#does this make sense???? no clue i’m half asleep

[dreamingthroughwords]

i love the xianle trio the sheer tragedy and angst of all of them. about how different the 3 of them are and how feng xin and mu qing are still working and care for xie lian in the present even though everything ended so messy and hurtful between them. how feng xin and mu qing still worked with each other - the fact they are connected by the one person, and that person wasn’t with them for a very long time and they still stuck with each other. they argue and butt heads but they care about one another and then at the end when there is so much going on, so much suspicion and chaos and the fact that no one turned their backs on the other, at the end of the story, and xie lian was the one to reach back and hold a hand to them, coming full circle to everything at the end. they started as a trio and then ended as one. there’s so much pain within the years past and misunderstandings and mistakes they made with each other. but they’ll grow more together and it’s so beautiful, a message of regret and forgiveness and moving forward

[kazelvr]

₊˚ෆˎˊ˗ let the light in

synopsis. relationship headcannons with 3 of my fav csm characters (strictly fem reader for quanxi, gender neutral reader for the rest)

cw. suggestive in quanxi’s part, im just absolutely in love with her lol, mentions of vomit in denji’s part, implied modern au in aki’s part

note. my writing may be a bit different, because i’m trying something new.. i apologize 😭. i also made this half asleep.. time check 4:11 am

denji (デンジ)

to be real, denji has no clue about healthy relationships. that’s putting it mildly, right? the only ‘relationships’ he’s had were all about manipulation and brainwashing.

but hey, he really does put in the effort for you! denji’s going to do whatever it takes to make you happy, such as going bankrupt for the sake of a gift.

despite being in a relationship, denji still feels awkward around you. his shyness towards you was evident from the beginning, and now it has only intensified. please bear with him, he’ll come around eventually!

but when he does get comfortable.. denji forms a deep emotional connection with you. he’s faced many challenges, and all he’s ever wanted is to feel loved. you have become that source of comfort to him, and that means the world.

at first, his kisses can be awkward, unsure of where to put his hands, and he might even keep this eyes open. you might need to show him how to kiss properly, which can be even harder if he’s your first kiss.

he always craves cuddles, day in and out. he’s a true cuddlebug. he likes feeling the steady rhythm of your breath against his skin. whether if he’s the little spoon, or the big spoon, his sole desire is to sleep while being in physical contact with you. he finds it impossible to sleep without you.

on those days when you’re super busy and can’t cuddle with him, denji gets all pouty. it’s quite dramatic, really, how he gives you the side eye and ignores you when you try to talk about it. but, he can’t stay mad at you forever. eventually, he’ll give in and cling onto you like a koala. he’s not letting go, by the way.

he is keeping you away from power at all costs, even if you two are friends. if she ever found out that denji has a partner, she will not leave him alone. power will definitely embarrass denji in front of you, telling you about all of his flaws while he tries to stop her from saying anything else… he was never able to stop her.

on your birthday, aki attempted to assist denji in preparing a meal for you. unfortunately, it was a complete disaster and the food turned out to be unappetizing… despite aki’s desperate attempts to persuade denji not to serve you his charred creation, denji, being denji, stubbornly refused to listen. when you took a bite, the taste was so revolting that your stomach couldn’t bear it any longer. you regurgitated the ill fated meal… it’s the thought that counts, right?

overall, he’s trying really hard to be a good boyfriend, please appreciate him.

aki hayakawa (早川アキ)

this man…. phewww…

aki is the epitome of a respectful boyfriend, always seeking your consent before engaging in any action, be it a simple kiss or a gentle touch.

if you happen to be someone who tends to be disorganized and messy, rest assured aki will gladly take on the responsibility of tidying up after you. regardless of the severity of the mess, simply tell him, and he will promptly begin cleaning it up, without any judgement.

bathing together has become a regular routine for the both of you, a frequent occurrence that follows a long day of hunting devils. aki, in particular, finds comfort in sharing these type of moments with you. the soothing warmth of the bathwater coupled with the gentle sensation of your hands massaging shampoo into his hair, while he rests against your chest, brings him a new profound sense of relaxation. it’s not always about being sexual, but rather the feeling of closeness with you that brings him a sense of tranquility.

aki is like a dad sending text messages. when he’s not around, he would text you to ask if you need anything from the store. when he receives your response, he replies back with a simple “👍” emoji. that’s it.

aki is all about being the big spoon— it’s just who he is. aki has experienced too much loss and he can’t bear the thought of losing you. he holds you tightly in his grasp, afraid that if he loosens his grip, he’ll lose you, even though that would never be the case. your presence alone brings him a sense of security, and all he wants is for you to be safe.

every morning, this man never leaves for work without giving you a gentle kiss, even if you’re still groggy. you’re the sole reason he can maintain his sanity while battling devils all day.

to aki, you’re like his home, his safe space. you are the one he can confide in, and shed tears without any guilt, and that is one of the many reasons why he loves you.

aki is tall, standing at 190cm (6’2). every time you talk to him, he lowers himself to your level so he can hear you more clearly. sometimes, you think he’s doing it to make fun of you, but in reality, he just wants to be close to you.

aki has a reputation for being aloof, but in reality, he is the complete opposite. he’s a dork. a dork who can’t help but smile whenever your name comes up, a dork who finds himself captivated by your every feature, analyzing them with great interest. a dork who’s madly in love.

quanxi (クァンシ)

quanxi has a deep admiration for her girls’ body, and it’s no secret - especially to you, who has personally felt her touch. every inch of your body is your favorite, from the curves of your breasts to the softness of your thighs. she revels in worshiping every aspect of you, leaving you feeling loved.

when someone utters even the slightest offensive remark towards you, quanxi’s protective remarks kick in, particularly if it comes from a man. she wholeheartedly defends you, regardless of whether you were in the wrong (gotta stand up for your girls), she becomes so defensive she almost resorts to physical confrontation, refusing to let anyone disrespect under her watch.

quanxi’s touch is ever-present. usually, it’s her hand on your waist in public, marking you as hers. behind closed doors, she explores every inch of you. it makes you wonder if she’s a different person outside of the public eye. but, who’s complaining?

i like to think that when quanxi gets drunk, she gets awfully needy and with you. she enjoys holding onto your arm and leaning against you, gently nibbling your ear, while softly expressing slurred compliments about your beauty.

quanxi is your ultimate protector, in every sense of the word. facing a menacing devil? before you can even blink, quanxi is by your side, fearlessly slaying the creature. your girlfriend takes pride in being your number one protecter, regardless of your strength.

making out sessions happen 90% of the time you two are together. quanxi simply can’t resist when you give her that irresistible look, with your lips appearing soft and pouted!

titty lover

[remotepixel]

Hey could I please request headcannons for how Marc and Steven would act as yandads?

Hi!! Thank you for requesting, and sorry this took longer than normal. I have mocks rn and some important exams in May and overall struggling to correctly manage my time lol.

Tw: Yanderes themes + off-hand mentions of kidnapping.

Steven:

-Panic is his main mood when dealing with you; he honestly has no clue what he’s doing.

-He’ll be the one you’re around most, and normally the one to deal out any consequences for your actions (the worst you’re getting is a ‘stern warning’ and a ten-minute timeout because he feels bad).

-He’s never risen a child before, and there’s not really any textbooks about how to parent a kid your alter kidnapped. I definitely get that vibe he would read mummy blogs though out of pure desperation (he’s trying his best </3).

-Steven is a big pushover. He’ll weakly defend himself if anyone accuse him - stating he’s just trying to make you happy - but it’s obvious enough that even he can’t defend himself properly.

-He’s pretty easily manipulated through your emotions. If you start crying, or even look slightly sad, the guy immediately backpedals on whatever it was.

-Since he’s super into Ancient Egypt, he knows how important interests can be. He’ll research into what like to try and make conversation. He’ll fully support any hobbies, skills, etc and try his best to support you if he’s able to.

-While writing this, I got this image of Steven, at like fucking 2am, half-asleep, trying desperately to understand all your ‘GenZ’ references like he’s studying some ancient literature. It’s an excuse to talk to you so he’ll take it, but god he wished you were a Ennead fanatic or something to make this a bit easier.

-He gives the vibe of randomly dropping some phrases that he hears you say to try and bond. He’ll probably give up after the first time though because you just stared blankly at him and he couldn’t deal with the embarrassment.

Marc:

-I guess it makes sense but Marc and Steven are both pretty similar in this situation, Marc just likes putting up a ‘i’m in control’ façade because he can’t correctly deal with his emotions (same).

-He’s even more scared than Steven, just better at hiding it. Obviously, his view on parental figures has been greatly screwed over by his own childhood, and despite vowing to himself he would never be the same, he always worries that he’ll cross that line.

-I think out of the two of them, he’d probably be the one to kidnap you, assuming that’s what happened, but he’ll be distant at the start.

-It’s not that he doesn’t want to comfort you, he just has no clue how to do it. And he will much rather show his love in his own way than mess up with his words.

-You’ll find little things you like around the apartment, or your favourite food just happens to be the one he brought for tonight.

-Honestly, I think he’ll also be a pushover. As much as he probably shits on Steven for being so, he can’t stand to see you disappointed, and he doesn’t have the ‘luxury’ (he never asks) of speaking to you everyday like Steven does.

-After a few months, he’ll start to be more open - small smiles, etc etc - but it depends on you mostly. If you seem happier, he’ll take over the body more, maybe for a movie night or a board game.

-If you’re just as or more angry/sad than at the start, he’s remaining firmly inside the headspace when you’re around. He’d rather live through Steven than have to confront the familiarly haunting look on your face.

A bit random but I have this cute thought of them putting more mirrors (or just any sort of reflective surface) around the apartment so both of them can hang out with you, even if only one can control the body.

[sawyer-is-not-my-name]

Requested: Nico di Angelo x GN!Reader

Request: Nico di Angelo x GN!Reader. How they get to know each other. After Nico realizes his feelings he goes to one of the readers siblings to ask for advice on getting to know them in a romantic way. and him “talking” Bianca about the reader

Nico couldn’t help but get lost in your voice, he was trying to listen but your voice seemed to put him in a trance. Or the way you’d curse in greek whenever something went wrong or you mad, he just got lost in everything you do.

“Are you even listening?” He shook himself out of the trance, “ Yeah of course I am.” You rolled your eyes at him muttering a ‘mhm’ not believing he was. He repeated back to you what you had been talking to him about, smiling at you. You couldn’t help but blush, you really didn’t think he was listening but he was, and a lot more closely than you thought he would.

Nico found himself avoiding you for a couple of days unable to face you after realizing his feelings for you. It was odd, he wasn’t used to this feeling. How was he supposed to go about this type of thing, should he hide it, try to pursue it. He wasn’t sure of what he was supposed to do.

What if you didn’t feel the same, what if you thought he was weird for feeling that way. What if you didn’t want anything to do with him after he told you. So many possibilities were whirring through his mind.

He found himself going to one of you half-siblings trying to figure out if they had any clue what he should do. “Well I’m certain they feel the same way” one of your sisters told him, “But how do you know?” he asked. “It’s simple, they look at you like you could do no wrong, like you’re the only thing that matters, they would gush about you for hours and hours if we let them. Gods, don’t even get me started on the fact they blush when you talk to them. Nico trust me on this, they like you.” He couldn’t help but smile at the fact you liked him too.

“How do you think I should go about telling them?” your sister thought for a moment before responding, “Drop some hints in conversation, casual flirting, compliments, maybe suggest taking them on a date, just don’t overthink it.” He was about to ask a question about what certain things were, when your sister excused herself, leaving to go by her friends.

He let what your sister sink in, before finally deciding on what to do. Praying to the gods that she was right and wasn’t deciding to mess with him.

He found you sitting by the lake, deciding to join you. “Hey stranger, haven’t seen you in a bit. Thought you got bored of me or something.” you laughed lightly making it seem like a joke not wanting him to hear the truth behind what you said. “Nope could never get bored of you” you smiled at him striking up a conversation. Neither one of you aware of the way time was passing, you couldn’t help but notice the confidence that seemed to radiate from him.

The way he was complimenting you, making you laugh, all of it seemed out of a dream the kind of affections you’ve been dreaming of receiving from him. You’re cheeks seemed to heat up as he dropped the nickname ‘angel.’ Everything seemed perfect you just couldn’t tell if he was flirting or if he was just being friendly, until he finally asked you on a date.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face from growing as you said ‘yes.’ He told you when before you heard one of your best friends Leo call after you to tell you to come to dinner. You stood up offering Nico a hand, helping him up. Walking side by side to the dining hall.

After dinner, Nico found himself in his cabin, talking allowed catching his sister up on his life. “I wish you were here to meet them, Bianca they’re so sweet, and they have the best sense of humor. Oh gods, they make me laugh all the time. I didn’t realize feeling like this was something i could actually have, but gods does it feel amazing.” He spent the next two hours just catching her up, before falling asleep with a smile on his face.

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love pt 4 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one Part two Part three Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part Nine Part Ten Part 11 Part 12

Chapter Four

Steve POV

1978

Steve carves his way across Lover’s Lake with an energetic front crawl. Okay, he’s got to admit—it’s a bit bigger than he judged.

He’s getting tired, though he can still make it. After all, he’s eleven years old, and the best swimmer in his grade. He reckons he could beat half the kids in the High School swim squad. What’s a puny lake to Steve Harrington?

The waters grow thick and deadly heavy. Soon, his arms flounder and his legs splash uselessly. He glances up to figure how far the bank is, mistimes his stroke, gulps a mouthful of water.

He chokes, swallows, discovers he’s no clue in which direction he should go. He swipes wet hair from his eyes and realizes he can’t see his parents. Can’t see anybody. Yeah, he’d deliberately swum off to prove his father wrong, because he’d said Steve couldn’t cross the lake, but… Oh crap!

He sinks, pulls upward with all he’s got left, and bursts through the surface, screaming: “Dad! Mom! Dad? I’m… lost… Heeeelp!” His legs have gone weak, and he doesn’t know what to do with his arms, whether to wave them or try to swim or… “Mommy? Da-ad? Daddy!”

His final efforts fail, and the dark waters suck him deep, closing seamlessly above his head.

1986

The scary dreams fade to nothingness, and Steve begins to wake. His head aches, and his bat bites manage to throb, itch and burn all at once. He opens his eyes, with a weary sense of having been through all this before, far too many times.

However, he isn’t in his parents’ living room, which is the last thing he remembers. He’s not a clue where he is. It looks like some dingy log cabin, and a stale tobacco stench catches in his throat. Robin’s nowhere to be seen, which alarms him further. Eddie paces the creaking floor, flexing and cracking his fingers.

“Eddie?”

Eddie’s hand flies to his chest. Then that electric smile that Steve’s getting way too fond of returns: “Hey, big boy. How ya doing?”

“Oh, never better.” Steve coughs. He doesn’t even try to rise from the lumpy old camp bed he’s lying on. “My body feels like goddamn heavy metal… and, uh, not the sort you dig.”

“Seen bodies I like less, Harrington.” Eddie smirks then cringes; Steve’s not gotten a clue how to read that. “Look, you've been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours.” He grabs a bottle of water. “You have to drink. Or we’re gonna have to get you to a doctor, and Buckley’s gonna ride my ass.”

“I’ll give it a shot.” Trouble is, Steve knows that Eddie will have to help, and it’s dead awkward. He does his best to sit, while Eddie plumps the pillows and helps support him. Eddie’s hair gets everywhere, way worse than Steve’s. Then Steve’s hand trembles so bad, Eddie has to guide the bottle to his lips. Even then, half the water dribbles down Steve’s chin, and it barely wets his parched lips. After a couple of slurps, his stomach performs an unpleasant flip. “Had enough, man.”

“Ooookay. We’ll try again later, huh?”

“Yeah, if you want me to vomit all over your… Hey, is that my Hugo Boss t-shirt?”

“Don’t worry, Harrington. It’ll look waaay better when I daub it with the sacred Hellfire Club logo.”

Steve’s beyond caring about that kinda stuff. What he really wants to say, but won’t, is that it looks great on Eddie. The short sleeves afford sizzling glimpses of Eddie’s tats.

Christ, get over it, Harrington.

He concentrates on what Eddie is telling him. Turns out, the three of them have escaped Hawkins, though not travelled far: “We’re in a deserted cabin, about twenty miles out. Robin can cycle back and get into radio contact with Dustin and the others, which is where she is now. They can sort out supplies, give us updates. It’s still total chaos in town, which has bought us time.”

“You need to keep moving, man,” murmurs Steve. “I know I said don’t go without me, but… Jesus, I’m slowing you down.”

Eddie gives a casual shrug. “Nah. We can wait for ya, Stevie.”

Stevie?!?

Steve snorts with laughter, then he sinks again fast. He’s so stupidly tired. God knows how long passes before Robin’s voice revives him. “Steve? Steve! Try to wake up. Please?”

He does. For her. His eyes are watery, and it takes a moment to focus. Then he sees her eyes are watery, pink-ish too. “Rob? W-What’s wrong?”

“Thank God, you’re back.” She leans close, attempts a clumsy approximation of a hug. When she pulls away, she unleashes way too many words for him to cope with. Dustin has updated her on tons. Max is hurt, and it’s really bad, and then she talks about Hopper. 

Hopper’s alive?

Steve raises a shaky hand to veil his eyes. “Hey, slow down. Max is gonna be okay, right?”

He peeps between his fingers. The look that passes between Robin and Eddie all but chokes him. He disguises a sniffle beneath another cough.

“Hop’s coming back, and that’s good news, right?” says Robin. “Maybe he can get you two off the hook. Although, right now, I believe we’re among the missing, presumed dead. Yay?” She underlines her false cheer with a tremulous smile. That’s when Steve notices the baggy yellow top she’s wearing:

“Hey, that top is mine! You’re both wearing my clothes?”

Eddie leans coolly against the wall. “Badge of ownership, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Steve. “Who owns whose ass?”

Eddie grins and… was that a twitch of his eyelid or a wink?!? Either way, it dizzies Steve. “Whichever way round you want, baby,” says Eddie.

“Ooookay.” Robin giggles, sounding as jittery as Steve feels. “Uh, Steve. We should probably check your bandages.”

He’s genuinely relieved when Eddie wanders off. He lifts his t-shirt and hisses as she pries the dressing from his scabbed blood. “Is it bad?”

“You’re not all stinky and septic, nor leaking Upside Down black goop, so… No, I’d say good. Does it hurt much?”

“Not as bad as it did.”

“You still seem a bit fever-y.” She gingerly drifts the back of her hand across his brow. “Not so gross and sticky as you were, though.”

“Lucky for you,” he snarks. He actually finds feeling so sick and weak far more intolerable than the pain. It reminds him of when he travelled with his parents, when he was much younger. And when he always got sick. A splash of ice bites deep. “Ow!”

Robin assaults him with an antiseptic spray.  “Sorry!”

“Don’t go into medicine, Rob.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Uh, Steve. One question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you ask us to leave town via Lover’s Lake?”

“Wha—” Steve blinks. His brain strains to retrieve whatever the hell she’s talking about and draws a blank. “I have zero memory of saying that. I mean, why the heck would I?”

“Oookay. You were probably raving.” That nervous laugh returns. “You sure you’re sure you’ve no idea?”

He blinks at her again. He really hasn’t.

He’s always loved swimming in Lover’s Lake. Then again, he likes swimming pretty much everywhere, particularly in open water. It gives him a rush, a sense of control that’s proven so difficult to grasp in pretty much every other area of his life. Okay, there was that one time he nearly drowned in Lover's Lake as a kid. Even that didn’t put him off for long. In fact, it fired him to get stronger, better, to learn lifesaving and CPR.

Robin’s brows are raised, as if she expects some bombshell revelation. “What do you want me to say?” he answers. “I haven’t a goddamn clue.”

She lets it drop. He fears he hasn’t heard the last of whatever’s bugging her. Perhaps, despite her protestations otherwise, she’s still fretting about rabies. “Hey, Eddie,” she yells, “stop skulking and come and help, will you?”

Robin and Eddie finish patching him up, and Steve struggles not to whimper like a candy-ass wuss. Then, as he feels too crappy to sleep, his mood plummets even lower. He can’t stop thinking about Max, and how he’d failed to save her. Maybe if he’d been there, he could’ve found a way, like he did when he saved Eddie?

That he was otherwise occupied feels like an excuse. He should’ve protected the kids better, and… Ugh, he detests being THIS DAMN PATHETIC, a total wimpezoid. He despises being seen like this, even by Robin, and she’s seen him brought low before, when they were captured by the Soviets. Plus, she’s his best friend. Steve Harrington is the big guy, the protector. Without that…

…I’m nothing. Eddie Munson’s gonna see that pretty quick. Uh… Why the Hell should I care so much about that?

His miserable thoughts drain him. He tries curling onto his good side, just as Robin comes at him with a bowl of cereal. “Get lost,” he mutters, and finally drifts back to a sick-feeling sleep.

Later, when he awakes, the fuss remains excruciating. Eddie props him up on more pillows and tucks up the blankets. Robin menaces him with the cereal again, and this time, he chokes down a few mouthfuls. Eddie checks Steve’s wounds, and wipes him down with a cloth, dabbing his scarred torso, hands and face.

Steve refuses to look Eddie in the eye, and chews his lip ragged. He waits till Robin goes outside then asks the question that is literally gonna kill him: “Eddie, I need the bathroom.”

“Oh.” Eddie palpably tenses. “Uh, pretty sure I saw a bucket somewhere.”

Steve groans. “Isn’t there plumbing inside this dump?”

“Noooot as such. There’s literally a brick shithouse outside. Reckon you can make it?”

“Sure,” says Steve, trying to sound casual rather than terrified he’s absolutely not gonna make it.

He manages to sit, and then Eddie helps him to his feet. They start off, with Steve leaning heavily against Eddie. To be fair, it goes better than expected. Steve’s dizzy and slightly nauseous, but the cereal stays down. While his legs are basically jello, they don’t give out completely.

Not until the way back, at any rate.

One of his knees buckles beneath his weight, and he flops into Eddie. He winds up clinging around Eddie’s neck, one foot sliding as if on ice, and staring up into Eddie’s dark, soulful eyes. Losing himself in them, like they’d drugged him or something; even giggling, and wondering fleetingly if that fizzle of attraction might still be real, despite his wretched state.

“I gotcha, Stevie.” 

Stevie… again?

The pulsing veins on Eddie’s face betray his strain in keeping Steve from falling. He’s also wearing a faintly amused smile, which touches Steve somewhere tender and deep.

But Eddie’s laughing at him, not with him, right? “Bet I’m hilarious,” mumbles Steve. “I guess with no TV you get your kicks where you can.”

“I don’t watch much TV,” says Eddie, placid enough. “Sure miss my Ghetto Blaster.”

“There was one in my room. If you were dumb enough not to bag it, that’s your loss.”

While bitching, Steve finds his footing again. Eddie helps him back toward the camp bed.  When, finally, Steve’s butt lands heavily on it, he’s still hugging around Eddie’s neck, so he tugs Eddie down with him. He slithers his arms free and shivers. He actually wishes he could keep clinging rather than go back to lying alone, feeling horrible. Christ, he’s hopeless.

He rolls to face the wall. Eddie pokes him. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” snaps Steve, the heat of his temper warming him. “I made it to the outhouse and back, didn’t I? If you two morons quit stalling, we can get moving again right away.”

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part Ten Part Twelve

...

tags: estrellami1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

[ash-isnt-writing]

{<*>} Aqua Blue {<*>}

Characters used/mentioned; Helix Vellen, Layna Ramirez, TS-0026, other unnamed characters

Writer’s note!!; Sudden impulse writing idk. Might make this a series if people like it, blah blah blah.

standard disclaimers apply, etc etc. you get the drill.

(not bothering with a border this time. i’m tired. i’ll add one later.)

TS-0026, confined to a glass tank filled with water and whatever else the containment team’d had the mercy of providing, surrounded by researchers in white coats and black button ups.

It was a particularly chilling sight to Helix, for whatever reason. More so than the others. Hell, they were only.. what, 17? It felt wrong, in every sense of the word. But he was tied down to this job. He had no other option.

The ginger sighed, and proceeded forward into the surrounding chamber, Layna, his assistant snd secretary, following close. “Does this thing ever sleep?” Helix remarked, more to himself than anybody else, but he wouldn’t mind an answer either.

“Apparently” A nearby researcher responded, Helix’s keen eyes darting over to the speaker. “It just finds a spot, gets comfy, and falls asleep right on the spot, straight into deep stage sleep.”

“…Huh.” Helix murmured, eyes drifting back to the tank. Straight into deep stage? How… weird. “Do we know how it does that?”

“Not a clue” Another passing researcher replied. “It’s harder to run tests on.. well, a merman, considering half our staff don’t know how to swim, and it’s generally quite hard to run exams under water.”

Ah, of course. Helix didn’t know why he hadn’t considered this earlier. He barely knew how the containment team had secured the subject in the first place. It would’ve been a feat in of itself. Actually trying to run tests on it was going to be a whole marathon.

“Well, find a way” He snapped after a moment. “I need answers, and I need them now. If it has some way to just snap into sleep like that… I want to know why, and I want to know if we can utilise it.”

The thing with Helix, Layna had come to learn, was that when he said ‘we’, he never meant himself. Sure, he did the paperwork, but it was rare to see him himself in tests anymore unless he felt he was the only one capable, or it was a test subject he was particularly interested in.

Either way, she found he’d refuse involvement with younger test subjects. Which didn’t seem to stop him when she and her siblings were younger, but alas…

“With all due respect, Doctor, we should probably consult Administration first” Layna cut in. “We really shouldn’t be running any sort of tests until we have their absolute approval.”

As much as Helix wanted to snap at her, she had a point. It would be a stupid idea to just go in and do whatever without authorisation. He’d tried that before, he wasn’t making the same mistake.

“..Right” He sighed, then turned to the younger researcher once more. “Keep an eye on that thing. If it does any shit while I’m gone, do not engage.”

“But sir-“

“There’s no buts here, damn it! Do not engage it at any point until we have greenlit testing approval, is that clear?”

A solemn nod. Helix grunted, and then made his leave. He fucking hated these meetings, but authority was authority, and he knew they were watching him.

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 2015 When I got up today I thought, boy it’s dark in here. Then as soon as I turned off the sound machine I could hear the rain. Yes, we actually got some real rain. I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but this is no five-minute drizzle. The only thing that sucks about it is that it’s so chilly in here. Gonna need the heat tonight for sure.

I wish we could go to Hawaii or Florida and not return till April (though we will be in Florida, Mexico, Jamaica and possibly a couple of other countries for about a week)! Because some people have asked… yes, this is a seasonal climate. Only it doesn’t get below the 20s or snow. Still, it gets plenty cold enough. The coldest night I remember in the 8 years I’ve lived here was 23° and the hottest day was 114°.

Anyway, I felt really rundown yesterday. I had to push myself to go out on the bike, and biking is the one form of exercise I never get sick of. I’ll be running indoors tonight. I felt rundown in the kind of way one does when they’re sick, only I didn’t feel sick. I wrote it off as not sleeping well, but I slept better this time around, so hopefully I won’t feel sluggish later on. Could be PMS, though I don’t feel very PMSy. I’m guessing my period will be late again as menopause sets further in. I hope that’s what it is, anyway.

I dreamed we moved to Europe, though I don��t know where in Europe. Nane might have been in the dream, too. Funny I should dream of her because I “sensed” her last night. Like she was considering contacting me or something. If she does, the smart thing to do would be to ignore her. The dumb thing to do would be to reply. Well, I would probably do the dumb thing because sometimes I just do dumb things. Warum würde das ändern?

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2015 No problem yesterday and today while I’ve been awake, but my heart raced me awake for the second time in three days. It took me a while to fall back asleep. I know it’s just anxiety due to the dosage increase, and it’s not scary like it was at first, but it is annoying. Either way, I’ve got this! This is still better than suffering while I’m awake. It’s a pain in the ass, but it stops after a few minutes. Before I would suffer for hours at a time either with my heart racing, beating hard, or the emotional twisters that having a good thyroid day can put you through on top of the medication you take. I have stood up to God (if there is one) and let Him know that I’m not going to take any more medical drama. I refuse to suffer and I’m not about to sit back and have Him allow me to do so either. Once I took that step, I began to feel better. I’m not perfect any more than anyone else is, but I certainly can’t complain compared to what I see many others go through, along with what I went through in the past.

I am much more concerned right now for my sister and Aly. My sister needs her other knee replaced, and Aly’s looking at once again dealing with radiation and chemo due to leukemia. As if they haven’t had enough to deal with between breast cancer, lung issues, and tons of other shit! To make it even scarier, so many doctors out there don’t have a clue as to what they’re doing. My first endo told me it would take six months to regulate my dose. Well, it’s been a year and a half and I’m still waiting. The more I learn from Doc O, the more info I realize Doc D withheld from me that could’ve helped me a lot.

I’m a bit surprised I haven’t had any negative dreams pertaining to my sister or Aly. Hopefully, that just means they’ll be okay in the end. They may have a rough road ahead, but they’re tough enough to pull through.

I did dream that I was at a dinner party with Lori, Lisa and June and gave them a piece of my mind.

Then we were living in some huge place somewhere that seemed more like a building than a house because the place seemed to have five or more bathrooms. I went into one of the smaller bathrooms to pour a bottle of water into the sink and noticed that the countertop was not only wet but also had a traditional toilet paper holder. I made a mental note to replace it with a handy bar holder.

Then I was in the living room where the walls were painted a teal color. Tom had pulled a tall piece of furniture about a foot from the wall (a hutch or a bookcase?) and behind it was a wallpaper pattern of some kind. I made another mental note to keep a tall piece of furniture in that area to hide it.

Then I was chasing a cat around the place (Simone?) that was trying to eat scraps of paper that had fallen to the floor.

In another dream, I was by a large pool. Several people surrounded it, but only these strange-looking penguins were jumping in and out of the pool. Even though it was a warm day and I wished I could jump in the pool too, I knew there was something in the water that was bad for people and that’s why no one was using the pool.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 2015 The older I get, the less often I get depressed. Yet last night I felt a little anxious as well as depressed. I’m on a new dosage and I don’t know how it’s going to affect me a few weeks from now, I have an ageless neighbor that likes to be noisy at times, and sometimes I miss being so far away from my closest friends and family. Not gonna lie, though. If we won the lottery today then we would be making plans to move further away (to Hawaii) the next day.

I thought about last year’s trauma and I realized that as horrible as the ordeal was, there was some good in it. For many years I have worried about how we would get by and what will become of us when we get old. However, when you are worried about how a medication may affect you in the present, it has a way of diverting your mind from what may happen in the future. That was definitely one of my biggest problems for a long time… I spent so much of it worrying about the future and all kinds of possible scenarios that may never happen.

My heart seemed to beat a little hard last night, but it may simply have been that my body was digesting all that chicken I had. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear Foster Farms put beta-blockers in their chicken! When I had some toward the beginning of my day, I felt very tired afterward and was suddenly freezing. Hypothyroidism can make you feel cold, but my numbers aren’t high enough to really get me that cold, I wouldn’t think. Finally, I perked up and warmed up. Toward the end of my day, I had some more chicken and the same thing happened. I even fell asleep early.

I went to bed worrying… Will Bob’s hammer wake me up? Will a loud vehicle wake me up? Will my heart race me awake? Will I have any nightmares? However, I ended up sleeping quite well and got up at noon for the third day in a row.

I made a few rounds around the circle on the bike just after 7 PM last night and the moon looked pretty cool from what I could see of it. It would probably have looked a lot cooler back out in the country. Part of me misses country living, minus Jesse, his mutts, the well, and a few other things. I never expected this retirement community to be quiet all the time, but I also never expected to be listening to so much traffic and landscaping this often either, along with motorcycles and power tools. It’s just ridiculous at times. At least there are no barking dogs or screaming kids, but I do hear car stereos at times. Most of those are coming from outside of the park, though. Today I heard about 10 seconds of hammering, but I couldn’t say if it was from next door or not. It has otherwise actually been a very pleasant day.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 2015 Made it through my first day on 88’s without any more than just a touch of anxiety. Couldn’t have been from the meds, though, since the new dose isn’t in my system yet. Two weeks to two months is the critical zone I need to get through. My heart did race me awake once, though, because I overheated. I got up, kicked the fan on, and fell back asleep a little while longer with no problem.

This hot day is full of car stereos and motorcycles, but only the motorcycles have come close to the house. Really REALLY wish the residents would start complaining about them, but I know they won’t with the way noise is so accepted and even encouraged in the West. Like I said, I dread the day they drop the mutt rules. What will be the point of a retirement community then? I mean I don’t care how old you are if you can’t shut up. Noise is noise and I’m not sure it matters if it comes from a stereo or a child’s mouth any more than a motorcycle or a dog’s mouth. At least Bob’s been quiet for several days now, and yes, I would rather the motorcycles than him. The motorcycles come and then they go. But when Bob starts up one of his projects, I don’t know how long I’m going to have to listen to it.

Love the weather we’ve been having. I prefer highs in the 90s because then it’s not so hot that the AC is always running, but not cool enough to let it get too chilly in the mornings.

I love routine and I love the things I usually do on a daily basis. But sometimes I just like to relax and do things that don’t require much thinking. Like coloring. Ever since I’ve gotten into adult coloring books I’ve been reading less and less. I even canceled my book deal subscription for now. I colored for hours last night and re-sorted all my pens and pencils. Love this Facebook page for adult coloring addicts, and even printed some of their free coloring pages and submitted some of my own work. They’re going to be having some kind of giveaway, but with nearly 25K “likers,” I don’t stand much of a chance. I miss the days when winning was easier!

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 2015 Aly noticed my schedule’s been flipping faster this last week. I love an observant person who cares enough to notice even the little things. But yeah, it’s been jumping fast. Tom thinks I’m just anxious. Well, now that I’ve got more levothyroxine in my body than ever before since I began 88 mcg today, I’d say that yes, I’m a little anxious. Still hoping for the best, though.

Aly should get the necklace I sent her on Monday, while I’ll have to contact the seller about my set of glow-in-the-dark nail polishes since I was supposed to receive them on the 22nd and never did. I also stupidly gave the mailman a DHL number, not OnTrac.

What I don’t get is why we have to see our doctors in person with the way technology is today. My endo’s a lovely person, but why can’t we “meet” online or via phone? Wouldn’t that save both the patient and the doctor a lot of time? I can see meeting in person at least once a year, but every 3 months?

So far today I’ve heard a loud car stereo and motorcycles tearing in and out of here while I was in the shower with water beating on my head, that’s how ghastly loud the fucking things are. It’s like I can’t escape Jesse. Bob makes the kind of racket he made, and now Jesse’s motorcycles are roaring in and out of this place.

“They can’t stop people’s friends and family from visiting,” Tom said.

Why can’t they stop them from doing so on motorcycles? It’s their park. sighs If only we could pick this house up and move it to a less active section of the park!

Speaking of the park, it’s asking for clothes to be donated, so since I’m 100% sure I’ll never lose weight, it’s time to weed out the clothes I’m too big for.

Now here’s something weird. I received a call from an Auburn number in which a guy left a VM saying, “Jodi, remove me from your phone list. Al.”

Curious as to what the hell he was talking about, I called the number back and he said someone was using our numbers to enter sweepstakes and stuff like that. I told him I was sorry they were doing this to him, but it wasn’t me.

Tom said it was our old number, but I don’t recognize it as our old cell number or the landline in the trailer from when we lived in Auburn. What I don’t get is why would they use BOTH his number and my current one???

No negative dreams last night. Just weird ones. In one dream Tom went down to Arizona on a business trip and happened to stay in our Maricopa house while he was there. I anxiously asked him what it was like nowadays upon his return and he said he didn’t notice.

I said, “They must’ve planted more trees then.”

Then I dreamed Simone was with us again and this time I magically had no breathing problems, couldn’t smell her shit, and she was oh so perfectly behaved.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 2015 Today is the last day of the 75s. Tomorrow my dose will be upped to 88 mcgs and yes, I am nervous about it. Trying to think positively and hope for the best, though. The thing is my body isn’t even going to know it for a week or two. This medication takes time to build up in the body.

I have enjoyed three days of peace and quiet, but that’s probably mostly due to the heat rather than the kindness of people's hearts. All I heard was the trash truck, and they were landscaping down the street at one of the houses.

It is very weird yet cool to now be able to read and comment on some Facebook posts in Dutch. I still know more German, though. I don't have any plans or desires right now to whip my Dutch and German up to serious fluency. Knowing a little more than enough to get by is sufficient enough for me. I do want to review some of my RLs, though. Consistency matters.

Tom has been doing some research on dieting since he wants to lose weight. Studies suggest it's best to eat the number of calories it would take to maintain your ideal weight, saying you would automatically lose weight if you did that consistently and then hover at your ideal weight. They say this is better than traditional dieting where you drastically cut your calories. To me, this makes no sense. I would think that each day you took in more than you put out, you would either gain weight or stay the same.

He can do what he wants, but I know I’m always going to be big and I can live with it as long as I don’t get any bigger. I’m learning, however, that it’s not all about my thyroid but also about age and genetics. I mean look at how many older people struggle to lose weight yet their thyroids work fine. The older body was just meant to have extra meat on it, even with a healthy diet and sufficient exercise. I don’t think there’s much we can do about that, but we can definitely prevent additional weight gain once we settle into whatever our middle-age weight is going to be. I have been approximately the same weight for about six years now.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 2015 Updated my passport. I was smart to have penciled in my old address so I could erase it and pencil in my current one. Why didn’t they stamp the Bahamas in when we were there? Puerto Rico was part of the US, and we didn’t quite make it to the Grand Turks, but it’s kind of strange that they didn’t stamp in the Bahamas. I thought it would be cool to have a “book” of all the countries I end up going to.

I dreamed we lived in Hawaii. Best. Dream. Ever. Still no negative dreams that might lead me to think I might be in for trouble on the new dose, but soon I will find out.

Had the runs for the second time this week, though I’m not sure why.

The air quality has been horrible here. I had a little congestion yesterday. We’ve been averaging 10° higher than normal for this time of year, but I’m certainly not complaining. It gets chilly in here in the mornings, and then the AC comes on in the afternoons.

There’s a really nice older guy who delivers our mail, and I went out to see if the nail polish that was supposed to get here two days ago had arrived, and it hasn’t. I told him OnTrac was supposed to deliver it to our regular carrier and he asked if I had the tracking number. So he backed up his truck, and I ran in to jot down the number for him. He said he would look into it but that he’s not going to be here for the rest of the week.

Next door is out now and hopefully won’t return before it's too hot for the GOM (grumpy old man) to go into I-don’t-give-a-shit mode (with his hammer) and make me edit the letter I already drafted up for Joy in hopes of jinxing him into silence.

I saw Jim pick Bob up yesterday for the second time and they took off somewhere for a few hours. Like I said, I love it when he’s out. I don’t care about his wife because she’s never noisy, but Bob can spend all the time he wants away from home.

I rejoined Tumblr for the millionth time because they have a “chat” feature that allows you to write stories in script form. I was going to try that just for something different, but it simply won’t work. There’s no way to capture unspoken thoughts and actions in the way that you can in story format.

Later…

I like to document as much as I can in my journals, not just about my life and experiences, but those I know as well. This is definitely not appropriate for public viewing.

I am always thinking of O lately. What is it with me and these doctor crushes? It used to be cops and now it’s doctors. What’re next, farmers? Real estate agents? Teachers? LOL crushes may be fun no matter who we love and are devoted to, but they can be frustrating at times. You wish you could see these people more often, but at the same time, you certainly don’t want anything to come of it. Besides, due to both age and having Hashimoto’s my libido is just about shot to hell. The bright side of that… you don’t miss what you don’t crave. Still, I can recognize something attractive when I see it and there’s just something about that endo of mine.

Let me guess… now that I have an established crush on O, she will retire, move, or something. All the hotties have a way of disappearing from my life rather quickly. Jane, the waitress moves. Liz, the cashier quits. Randy changed routes. My old doctors turn out to be less than competent. So what will happen to O? I’m guessing early retirement, though it’s possible she may move. Then I can send her a friend invite on Facebook that she won’t accept, LOL.

I’m just one of the few who can admit that no human being is attracted only to their soulmate. We are attracted to people regularly throughout our entire lives. It’s just human nature. Only difference is that with some it’s the opposite sex, some it’s the same sex, and with others, it’s both. In different frequencies as well, no doubt.

With me, it’s women with an occasional guy sprinkled in the mix. My last male crush (besides a few guys online) was one of the mailmen we had up in Oregon. There was just something about tall, wiry Randy and his alert blue eyes. I don’t have a “type” with men, though I have always liked both men and women who were older. O is a bit out of my type, just like my old PCP was because I rarely like blondes. O isn’t blonde, but she’s kind of smallish like I am. She’s Tom’s age and has light golden brown eyes with shoulder-length graying hair that is mostly dark brown. My usual type is tall with dark hair and dark brown eyes. Not big on blacks, but some Italians, Hispanics, Indians and Asians can be very beautiful.

Anyway, I got a couple of crystal heart necklaces that are identical and I have mailed one to Aly in Nebraska. She said she’d let me know when she gets it. We hang out daily on Twitter.

I am still connected with Mitch, Adonis, Christine and Eileen, though I don’t hear much from Eileen these days.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 2015 Leave it to me to get another story idea before I have finished editing Rainstorm.

Our insurance paid more for my last dentist visit than we thought they would. We thought they only paid for one of the two yearly exams, but nope. They apparently cover both. All we had to pay was the $20 the special fluoride toothpaste costs.

No bad vibes about increasing my dose, and no nightmares. Just a weird dream where somebody posted on Facebook, “Brenda drove off a bridge,” and I knew they were referring to the Brenda I dated for nearly a year in the early '90s.

As for the grumpy old man next door, Tom and I have decided that yes, if his racket escalates, we will contact the office. We took Jesse’s shit for half a decade because we had no choice, but we’re not about to take it here. I think – and seriously hope – that it won’t come to that. I really don’t want any trouble with anyone anywhere. I just want people to keep their projects, especially the unnecessary ones, for their ears only. Lately, he seems to get noisy every three days or so. If it gets to be every day or maybe even every other day, and he’s doing it off-hours more frequently, that’s what I’ll complain. I don’t want to complain unless it’s absolutely necessary. Being annoyed is one thing, but being driven crazy is another.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 2015 Just sitting here realizing I’ve come to have a little thing for Doc O… and a list of potential silly story ideas. What is it with me and docs lately anyway? That’s 4 out of the 10 or so docs and therapists I’ve seen in this state. I don’t know that I could count my dentist, though. It’s like she’s attractive, but she’s not. I think her sweet personality is more what I’m attracted to, and not her. I sort of liked Dr. D even though I didn’t, I definitely liked Dr. C, and now there’s just something about Dr. O. Like I said, there was just something about her demeanor, though she’s still friendlier than Dr. A.

After the doctor’s yesterday, we grabbed a burger and fries at Carl’s Jr., then went to Walmart to pick up my new prescription. I’m not starting this dose until the weekend.

I got a heart-shaped necklace that changes colors depending on how the light hits it and a new pair of pink slippers.

Tom did some trimming and blowing when we got home, and I wish to hell that others doing the same exact thing wouldn’t be so damn annoying to me. When he does it, it’s simply a sound in the background. When others do it, it’s a huge annoyance. I guess that when he’s making the racket, I know what’s going on and I know how long it’s going to last. But now that Bob has taken to hammering before 8 AM, I wonder how much more that’s going to go on before I am forced to go to the office to stop it.

Seriously, how many more decades of rude, inconsiderate neighbors can I possibly take before I snap? Totally, totally snap. Although it was only for about a minute, it was very loud and it happened at 7:45 AM. You’re not supposed to make noise before 8am. What I wonder, though, is whether or not it was in regard to my music. I did have it kind of loudish while I was showering, but since I could hear him hammering over the music barely 3 yards away from my window, my guess is no. It is possible that even an older guy who’s hard of hearing could have heard it, but I don’t think so. I would have probably heard it if I was standing outside the window.

Why do I feel like I am being spited for simply taking Virginia’s suggestion? She asked if I heard them. Well, I told Bob that yes, I could. I am coming to learn just what a mean guy this really is. Just totally rude and inconsiderate. He was never as friendly as Jim and a few others I’ve met around here, but I didn’t realize he had a blatant lack of respect and compassion for those around him. He is clearly one of those who is going to do what he’s going to do regardless of how it affects others.

I am so fucking sick of this shit following me every single fucking place I go. Yes, I have had much worse to deal with neighbor-wise, but nobody should be hammering outside your window that early in the morning.

Because I expect it to escalate, I have already drafted an email, which I will send to Joy if he keeps pushing me like this. I would rather an email that I can edit and that would be harder to deny than a face-to-face since there’d be a record of it. Yes, I know it is taking a risk should they be good friends with Joy or have connections in law enforcement like the freeloaders did, but sometimes we have to do what we feel is best. Life is about taking chances, isn’t it? I really hope it doesn’t come down to that, but just what did he absolutely have to hammer with such intense force at 7:45 in the morning? Tom said the walkway looks fine. I agree, from what I saw going to get the mail. There’s nothing wrong with it, so whatever he’s doing over there is not a necessary repair. This is an incredible display of rudeness and it has stamped out any last thoughts of trying to make peace with them. I’m sorry he reacted so poorly to my honesty and that he's such a sore loser, but I’m not sorry that I spoke my mind.

There is nothing to suggest he has dementia, Alzheimer’s or anything like that, which can cause a person to turn on you. I think he’s just plain mean and inconsiderate.

His upcoming actions will determine whether or not I contact Joy, depending on both the frequency and the time of day. It’s totally up to him at this point. I just wonder how I’m going to react when he finally starts waking me up. This isn’t 16 young people that could beat my ass in a heartbeat. This is 1 old man.

All I know is that I don’t care anymore how much longer they’ve been here than us. And that’s fine that he wants to do things and keep active, but it shouldn’t be at my expense. I want to do things too, but other than when we’re landscaping we don’t make anybody else listen to us and I really expect the same consideration and respect in return.

Just heard a few more bashes against something, this time softer and probably coming from the garage. It definitely wasn’t because of anything I was doing, because I don’t have any music on at all. It’s just his rude, “I’m going to do what I’m going to do and fuck the rest of the world” attitude. Really hope he does start hammering more often too early or too late because then I have definite grounds for complaint and then it will be more likely that I can do something about it.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 2015 Sure enough, Doc O feels I should be at 88 mcg. She said she can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do, but really believes it’s necessary since my thyroid only puts out 50% of what it needs to and that number will probably go down in time.

I asked her what the odds were of me being flipped from hypo to hyper, and she said the chances were very low. I told her I was going on vacation and didn’t want that playing on my mind while I was gone. She asked me when we were leaving and I told her January or February was most likely, and she said I had plenty of time to know how my body was going to tolerate it. She also reminded me that I could have an anxiety attack for any unrelated reason at any time. I agree, and as I told her, I believe the anxiety started with the levothyroxine, but other things in conjunction with it fed off of one another and I had a bit of a domino effect going for a while.

Her mood seemed a bit different this time. Like she didn’t really want to see me. Maybe I read her wrong and maybe she was just pressed for time or upset about something else, but it almost seemed like she wasn’t exactly glad to see me. She didn’t rush me, though. I doubt it’s got anything to do with me, and this is the way she probably is most of the time, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with my not being able to keep my appointment with the psychiatrist. Or maybe even my message to Doc C somehow got back to her and she finds it disturbing. Remember? People always seem to know my business as well as be connected to someone I’m no longer connected to. Like I said, I doubt it had anything to do with me personally. I was a bit surprised she didn’t comment on Tom not being present this time around. There were a few times she smiled and went off-topic, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she continues to do her job properly.

When we were discussing anxiety and whether or not the medication was likely to cause it, she reminded me that a lot of things can get the heart pumping that has nothing to do with it. An example she used was how much she hates scary movies.

“I love scary movies,” I told her.

She said, “Okay, bad metaphor.” And then she said that she didn’t enjoy riding roller coasters or find watching videos of roller coasters entertaining.

I told her spiders could get my heart going, and she knew how I felt, saying she’d recently found a black widow in her vegetable garden. I told her that it so happened that we were bombing the house at the moment. “For black widows?” she asked.

“No,” I told her, “for any and all spiders.”

Anyway, she doesn’t think I have anything to worry about and reminds me that going from 75 to 88 isn’t much. It’s like standing by the ocean and throwing in a salt tablet. Well, can you find your salt tablet? she asked.

She also said she thinks I overthink things at times. I told her I think she’s right. :)

Still, I am a bit nervous about it and I’m not going to start until the weekend when Tom will be here, even though it’s going to take time to be a problem if it’s going to be.

She also said it makes no difference if you took two 75s one day and a 75 the rest of the week. It still equals 88 a day for a week, and no matter how you take it, it’s all the same. If I do run into any trouble, however, she said not to stop the medication. Just call her and get to the lab so they can see if there’s a connection to the levothyroxine or not. Past experience has taught me this is very important, too. I stopped the meds when I first ran into trouble and that caused me to test as hypo when I KNOW I was hyper. It just would’ve been nice if the bitch I last saw had warned me that could happen.

I mentioned the strange throat pain I’ve had a few times and she wasn’t sure what to make of it, but suggested allergies could’ve had something to do with it. Unless it becomes a regular thing, I’m not going to worry about it.

Out of curiosity, I asked her if the dose increase would affect my weight and told her that while I haven’t dieted recently, my weight still won’t respond to diet and exercise. She said it might help a little, but probably not much. I figured as much, but at least I don’t have to worry about gaining. Good enough for me for now, though she did say my weight was down from the last time. I was like, really? I thought it was the same. But it was down 2 pounds.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 2015 What I read yesterday about the throat pain I had, which was a lot like what I had when I was on Prozac, suggests I could have swollen lymph glands. It lasted most of the day and then it just turned itself off in an instant. Thanks to the shitty timing, I really thought the first time I had it that it was caused by the Prozac, and I even found some reports online complaining of that. New things really need to stop happening when other new things are going on so I can tell what’s what! It said that the most common causes are allergic reactions or infections. I don’t feel like I’m infected and I downed a yogurt before it came on. I’ve never had problems with these yogurts before, though.

I only heard about 12 wallops with Bob’s beloved hammer yesterday and it was softer than usual. I’m sure there will be more to come soon enough.

Yesterday we got a bill from my dentist charging me for the special fluoride toothpaste and part of the exam. Tom started reading off the items, saying, “Fluoride toothpaste, gum probe exam, speaks 6 languages, going on a cruise in January to see sister for first time in many years…”

At that point, I burst out laughing because I thought he was joking. He knows that we chat along the way and that I did mention these things to both Holly and the dentist. They were quite happy for me, especially at the prospect of seeing Tammy for the first time in so long.

Sure enough, though, it really was listed on their summary, LOL. I was surprised since that doesn’t have anything to do with my oral health. To be more precise, we may go cruising in February, and I actually speak more like 5 languages while I understand 4, and those I speak aren’t all up to speed. I’m fluent enough in ASL and Spanish, and of course, English, but my Italian is a little slow, and my German grammar is a nightmare. Still, I do well overall in Language Land.

The only dream I remember last night was living in a house in a rural setting. It was nighttime and I saw what I knew to be the headlights of Tom’s car approaching the house. Jesse magically appeared and for some bizarre reason, I was worried that Tom would get the wrong idea when he got in.

When Tom entered the house, however, he was all excited for me because he had this antique highchair of all things that I supposedly had been looking for.

Later…

We went to Target earlier. I got a pair of silk panties, some treats, pine-scented air freshener, a pack of 30 Twistables colored pencils, and a pair of pantyhose that snagged as soon as I put them on.

I'd say it's too hot to have to worry about Bob stirring up any racket for the rest of the day, so that's good.

Even though I shouldn't be, I'm still nervous about tomorrow's appt.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2015 Still nervous about Monday’s appointment. It’s like I want to just get it over with but I also never want Monday to arrive. I almost feel like a kid being sent to the principal, LOL. I know what she’s going to say and it’s not going to be what I want to hear.

No racket next door yesterday, but I’d be willing to bet just about anything that he’ll work on his damn walkway sometime over the next few days. This is a 3-day weekend for Tom, too. It’s going to alternate between 3 and 2 over the next few weeks.

Not sure what we’re doing this weekend, but I am sure we’re changing the rats’ cage later and going out on the bikes. Monday, as we go to leave for the appointment, we’ll be bombing the place. We’ve seen some pretty big, fat and scary-looking spiders in here. The day before, we’ll bomb the shed, as that’s where the rats go when we bomb.

Tammy called to ask what sweepstakes site I used to use. Not sure why she didn’t just ask on Facebook, but at least I got to hear that she sounds pretty good. It had been a while since I’ve heard from her anywhere. I knew she was busy with the new house, but didn’t know if she’d been sick or what. They do testing on her every few months and she has her good days and her bad, she says. I just wish she and Mark would get off the damn cigarettes. She’ll never be perfect if she quits, but she’ll be a million times better.

Later…

So we go out on the bikes (it’s freezing out!), pass Bob, I say hello, and he ignores me. Fine, cock. Be that way.

Either way, I know I could go over there and make peace with them, but I’m not going to apologize for what I’m not sorry for. I would rather disagree and not speak than speak after I told them what they wanted to hear. If we were the same age and both planned to be here forever, that might be different. For now, he makes more noise than he needs to being just a few yards away from someone else’s house. Other than the contractor, no one else has made a fraction of the noise he’s made, so there’s no need or excuse for a lot of it. He chooses to do what he does and not consider those around him. When Virginia told him to ask if we could hear them doing laundry in the early mornings, he didn’t forget to ask us. It’s quite obvious that he didn’t ask us cuz he simply didn’t care. A lot of people are just like that.

He’ll either move on in time or forever hold his grudge, probably the latter. The more I’ve gotten to know him, the more I see that they’re not the nice people I thought they were, especially him. I don’t need the “grumpy old man” shit in my life and so I’ll just ignore him back. I also don’t trust my temper either. If he says anything rude to me I’m gonna want to pop him, and I’m not going to jail for this cock just to lose my freedom, be denied my meds for who knows how long, and then have to pay a fortune. Really, I hate it when people get all pissy-assed when you let them know they’re annoying you. His wife wanted to know if they were disturbing us and I told him. I just don’t get that or why some people take things so wrong and act like you’re making an unreasonable statement or request of them. If I didn’t know any better I’d think the freeloaders in Phoenix were asked not to breathe. Meanwhile, this one’s old, it can’t be out and about that many more years, and I’m not going to let it get to me.

Jim did say hello to us as we passed him afterward, which kind of surprised me. I would think that Bob would be quick to tell him that he now hates me and therefore he would ignore us too, but I guess not.

Later…

Looks like we’re back to the afternoon net games. The net just cut out when I was trying to tweet about my throat pain. Oh, and sure enough, the cock next door just started hammering. It’s not as loud as last time, but I’m sure it’ll pick up in volume and annoyance soon enough. So far I only heard like a dozen strikes, but give it time.

As Aly pointed out, it could be that he didn’t notice me or was simply lost in thought and that may be why he didn’t at least appear to acknowledge my greeting. The guy is also hard of hearing, but I don’t care. I just don’t care.

I am a little worried that if he’s turned against me, he’s going to turn against Tom, too. It would be incredibly rude of him to ignore Tom should they see each other outdoors, but that’s not the main point. It’s not that Tom would fall apart with a broken heart if Bob failed to return a hello, but if Bob ignores him, he may think something bad is going on other than my being annoyed by the old fart.

Anyway, I have this mysterious throat pain when I swallow that’s similar to when I took Prozac. Swollen lymph glands and ear infections can cause this, I just read, along with some other things. It’s common. I don’t feel like I have an ear infection, though I can say I haven’t felt as energetic lately. At the same time, I’ve been up 18-19 hours the last few days. Hopefully, I’m just nervous about my appointment and Andy waking up for the second day in a row with a bad vibe concerning my health is just a coincidence. He told me about this before I even mentioned my throat pain. Chances are, nothing new is wrong with me and he’s just picking up on my appointment nervousness.

While I’m thrilled for Tom and Andy that their problems are minimal, and while I know it’s a waste of time comparing, I can’t help but wonder why. Why have they got 1-2 conditions while I’ve got 6 or 7? Andy has high cholesterol and sleep issues, and Tom has just high BP. But I have the ear, asthma, allergies, a sleep disorder, a dead thyroid and high cholesterol. I guess I won’t count the ingrown toenail since that’s no longer an ongoing thing.

Just saw next door’s SUV leave. Shit, it’s just Virginia. Figures. Let me guess… Bob’s about to get louder now, right?

I do worry about encountering a whole new health problem if they can ever safely get my thyroid stuff where it should be. The only issue I have with last year’s trauma (besides the PTSD I’ve suffered on account of it) is that I wonder if it was a preparation of sorts for something worse to come. If anything worse is to come it’s got to be OMG kind of horrible since what happened was horrible enough. I had that feeling when they threw me in Florence Jail, and I was right. It was as if it was to prepare me for Estrella. And was the hotel shit to prepare me for the unemployment nightmare?

Tom suggested I try to eat the number of calories it would take to hold me at 120 pounds, saying I’d lose weight if I stuck to it. He’s trying to lose weight himself, but I’ve totally given up. It’s hopeless and I know it. One site told me that for a woman my height, weight and age with moderate activity it takes 1993.5 calories to maintain 150 pounds, though with Hashimoto’s I’d gain on that amount easily. 120 takes 1797 and 110 takes 1732.5 while 100 takes 1666.5. They’re WAY off. I could maintain 150 on that last one, but I still say 1200 would hold me at 120.

Not. Very. Doable.

Another site says I need to eat 1150-1350 to lose (which is more reasonable) but doesn't tell me what I need to eat to maintain a lower weight. Maybe I'll go with 1300. Not super easy but more doable than 1000 or so. Or maybe I’ll just accept that I am the size I was meant to be.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 2015 I haven’t been sleeping well lately (probably because I’m nervous about Monday’s appointment). so I am kind of tired. I’m also still pissed over next door’s racket yesterday and his I don’t give a shit attitude. I went to bed deciding that was it. No longer would I be the considerate one. The quiet one. The respectful one. I’m giving it all back. As soon as the hammering starts, I will open the window and blast the shit out of my music.

But then I felt a little hesitant to do so because I don’t want to annoy innocent people around here who have nothing to do with it, not that anyone will complain on me since it would be the daytime and no one seems to mind noisy neighbors in the west. I also hesitate a bit because I want to be obvious without being that obvious. Maybe I should wait for two or three more hammering sprees before I give it back? I also don’t want to disturb his wife, who is always quiet. Then again, how could I? If she’s ok with his racket, she not only would be ok with mine, but she couldn’t hear my music inside their house anyway. Eh, they won’t care about my music even if they could hear it. Even Virginia said not to worry about that, to open the window, do what I want, etc.

I still can’t believe he suggested I consider getting an office because he’s going to be making noise from time to time over there. That is just so fucking rude and I don’t care what anybody says. I realized that just because most people wouldn’t consider him rude and would consider his racket normal daytime noise, as long as I consider it rude and distracting, then that’s exactly what it is. At least to me, it is. We all perceive things differently, and well, is there really any right or wrong way to perceive things? IMO, he’s loud, rude, distracting and annoying when he hammers and uses loud power tools, especially when it’s on unnecessary projects. I understand that replacing a damaged brick walkway is necessary, but just as I suspected it would, it’s going to take weeks, if not months, and it’s still annoying either way. Pretty sure I saw a bunch of bricks piled up against this back wall, too.

He wasn’t the only one pissing me off yesterday. Now that the leaves are coming down faster there’s been more landscaping. I heard scattered bursts of blowers on and off most of yesterday. Very loud and very annoying. I’m not going to open my window and blast music every single weekday, so maybe my best bet, since my laptop is portable, is to work in whichever room is quietest at the moment. Maybe I’ll just work in the laundry room when I’m up during the hours of 8am - 4pm. That contractor is easier to hear in there, but he’s easier to drown out than Bob is, and the laundry room is farther from Bob than the living room and bedroom. Besides, I haven’t heard any sawing from that guy in months.

All in all, Bob shouldn’t have the right to build unnecessary birdhouses unless he makes sure others can’t hear him, but he does have the right to repair his walkway, like it or not.

Meanwhile, he’s 86. How many more years could he possibly have the energy and strength of a 20-something? I should be glad for the noise they don’t make. They hardly ever have company. They don’t have brats over there that aren’t supposed to be there. They don’t have mutts. They don’t have a motorcycle or other vehicle that’s overly loud.

Got my new rat ring yesterday and I love it! It’s super cute and comfy.

Later…

Since I’m stuck in my secondary office and I’m limited as to what I can do right now, I thought I would just go on a private bitchfest. I try to keep positive stuff public and negative stuff private. I don’t need anyone judging me on the things that bother me. Like punching someone in the gut that has a stomachache.

I have equipped my laundry room office with a stash of water, incense and some mint lip balm. I even wheeled in my comfy chair. I took Alexa in here to play nature sounds and I also have an earplug in. Shitty way to have to live, but as long as Bob’s alive and able-bodied, he could go months without making a racket, or he could do it regularly. All I know is that right or wrong, I’m sick of hearing it.

Initially, I thought I would wait until he started his shit before running into the laundry room, but I would rather just work there during the daytime and not know when he starts this shit. Ignorance really is bliss at times, and what I don’t know can’t piss me off. On the other hand, if I could know exactly when he was going to act up and I could mark it on the calendar, knowing what was coming when would make it easier to deal with because then I would know upfront how many days it would be worth coming in here. This is still a better place in the daytime because it gets me further away from the landscapers. Some of them, anyway. The other day they didn’t even wait till 8 o’clock to start up.

A part of me started to think, aw, it’s too bad we’re not on better terms. We’re going to be neighbors for another decade or so. But then I remember his classic Western I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude and his rude comments about getting an office.

Yeah? Why don’t you pay for that office, Bob? And why don’t you even drive me there, too.

Argh! If it’s a sin to want to slap an 86-year-old man, then I’m going to hell if there is one.

Let me guess… Virginia is just as pissed as he is. No way she would say something like what Tom would say which would be something like, “Well, it is kind of loud.”

I’m just so pissed off because again, I’m limited as to what I can do. I can’t watch TV because of the sound machine, yet the TV wouldn’t be enough to drown out any hammering or sawing. Too bad I’m not into role-playing. I could just lose myself in fantasy for the next six hours, LOL.

I’m not going to be able to proofread this with the text reader because that too, requires a quiet background. I guess I will have my nighttime activities and I will have my daytime activities. This will have to be posted later on.

Did some surveys and read some other people’s journals.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 2015 Not much new to update on. Just that I had weird dreams instead of negative ones for a change. I dreamed that Tom and I were hanging out and I asked Alexa what the temp was to be that day. She said 128°, LOL.

Then I had a second dream where I was telling Tom about the first dream, and then I suddenly asked, “Is that the flag?” when I heard this rattling sound. He said it was, and I knew it was windy out by the way the pole rattled in its holder.

Then I walked into this small but sparsely furnished room supposedly in our home. It seemed to have hardwood floors. A rat was sleeping in a cage against the back wall, and the room’s single window toward the right was open.

Later…

I am so fucking pissed now. It was a horribly noisy morning. The landscapers are coming around more and more now that the leaves are coming down faster, and Bob is STILL working on the fucking walkway.

When I went out to ask him if he was still working on it (to see if he would tell me how much longer it would take) he asked if he was bugging me. I casually mentioned working and he asked where I worked. I told him I usually work in the living room but would take my laptop in the other room. Then he tells me that he’s going to be making noise from time to time over there and that I might want to consider getting an office.

Gee, thanks a lot, Bob. Really that is just so fucking rude and inconsiderate, even if most people wouldn’t think so. Ok, so technically, he does have a right to repair his damn walkway. He also has the right to do unnecessary projects like beat out some birdhouses for his grandkids. Rude or not, like it or not, daytime noise simply is acceptable. I can’t expect him to stop living his life just because he’s annoying the fuck out of me.

It was just his “fuck you, I don’t give a shit” attitude that got to me. At least that’s the way he seemed to come off to me anyway. Perhaps I would have the same attitude if I were here first, but that’s not the point at least in my mind. In my mind, it is just so fucking distracting and annoying, not to mention unfair. We don’t make him listen to us nearly as much. I just hope that now that he’s irritated with me (unless I’m reading him wrong) he doesn’t actually set out to make more noise. Even so, I know I should do what I should have done decades ago… accept that my neighbors are going to be noisy at times, some worse than others. I’m simply not meant to have lazy neighbors who like to sit indoors in front of a TV all day or online (they don’t even have a computer, as I suspected) any more than I was meant to be tall. I was meant to have outdoorsy neighbors who always like to do loud projects, and if it weren’t this, then it would just be noisy company. Even Tom said…I did know that the garage was there when we moved in here. Yeah, but I didn’t know that so many people around here were going to use their garages as little workshops.

I take some solace in knowing that this guy can’t live THAT much longer. Will he really be hammering away like this when he hits his 90s four years from now? I just fear that if we’re still here when they do die, the next people will be a lot worse. It just doesn’t matter what I get for neighbors. Whoever’s closest to me is the noisiest or at least runner-up. Doesn’t seem to matter what age, gender or color. You can be a young welfare bum, a middle-aged woman, or an old man and you’re still going to drive me crazy at times if you’re the one next to me. I always look around at different locations within the park when I’m out and about and wonder if that particular place would be quieter. But I know that if I lived there it wouldn’t be, and it might even be worse.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 2015 I had very negative dreams last night filled with much desperation. The question is, were they fueled by my upcoming doctor's appointment? Are they a sign that trouble is ahead? Or were they simply just because?

If I don’t hear from you for a long time on Facebook, I delete you. Two recent deletions were Jessie and Kim. Then yesterday Kim messaged me to say that she was not only still recovering and undergoing physical therapy for a car accident she was in two years ago, but she was just in another one and is hardly ever on Facebook. I think it’s time for her to spend less time driving and more time on Facebook in her case. This is the third accident that I know of. She rear-ended her boyfriend one time back in the 90s, LOL.

I caught Bob and Jim on their morning walk yesterday and gave Bob his mail.

We ordered some more bedding for the rats, plus I ordered a set of six glow-in-the-dark nail polishes, a tiny rat ring, and neon pencils. I got the pencils and they’re way overpriced and under-neoned. The pink is bright and the orange is somewhat bright, but the green and yellow look like barely visible pastels.

It’s supposed to drop to just 51° this morning, so I have opted to run indoors instead of ride outdoors. If it’s breezy out that makes it worse, and it is a bit breezy this morning.

When I looked at the map and the areas of the country they expect to be wetter this winter, we’re right smack on the edge of the line between wetter and warmer. So I guess it could go either way for us.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2015 I saw a movie about a happily married woman who was a sex addict. She had it all… Great family, great career, great everything. While I was never a sex addict, the movie brought me back to the 90s and some of the shit I went through back then trying to get more sex from Tom only to feel rejected in the end. Also, trying to conceive the child I once wanted so badly. There is nothing more humiliating than knowing you were considered attractive by society’s standards (would I have been a T&A dancer if I wasn’t?) just to have to practically beg your husband for sex.

Although I knew deep down from a logical standpoint that he was the one with the problem, it really has a way of making a woman feel less than attractive. I could have gotten just about any man in those days, not that I would want them, but the one person I loved enough to marry, definitely left me feeling deprived and neglected in that department a lot of the time until I got older and my own appetite began to fizzle out as my aging hormones died off. I know the Hashimoto’s has affected it as well.

There is nothing more frustrating and depressing than wanting something so bad that you can never have. Knowing that it was such a normal, everyday fact of life made me want to beat my head into the wall all the harder. I wasn’t asking for a million bucks. I wasn’t asking for a mansion on a private island. I just wanted a normal sex life and a child. That, on top of a lot of other shit I went through in life, is what convinced me that I was absolutely nothing in the eyes of God, should one actually exist. The legal revenge sought on me 15 years ago was the final straw. The poverty trip of the '00s really slammed the nail into the coffin as far as me ever forgiving any possible God up there. No matter how many good things await me in my future, I will always loathe the hell out of God. There is only so much we can forgive. He could’ve prevented a lot of what I went through, yet He chose to sit back and let it happen. Again, this is if he even exists. I understand that there is still a chance that there may be absolutely nothing up there and that the things that happen to us are simply random events.

If Helen hadn’t shown me that literature to prove that Tom really did have a genuine sexual problem, I may still believe to this day that he purposely allowed himself to get hard but made sure he didn’t cum most of the time. I totally believe without a doubt that he truly did have this problem; I just think that it was a problem he was glad to have. I think it was hard for him to say no to something he knew I wanted, and that if you wanted a kid as bad as I once did, he would’ve sought help for his problem. But the fact that he knew he had a problem and wasn’t willing to do anything about it, well, that pretty much tells you something right there.

I’m glad in the end that my desire for a child faded with time and age, but I will forever resent what I had to go through. Random event or a punishing God at work, it was utterly depressing and frustrating and it had a way of making me feel like a real freak at the time, no matter how much you know it’s not your fault. Tom led me to believe that it was at times, intentional or not, but I know it was nothing I said or did. He was the one who had a physical problem that affected him sexually. I’m sure he’s always had this and always will. Kudos to you, however, if you have a problem you’re okay with because I would think most people would go out of their minds if they could get excited but not get off. That would leave me personally feeling beyond frustrated and teased to hell and back.

It was like I swapped roles once I got with Tom. My exes wanted more sex than I wanted, and it was just the opposite with Tom. No matter whom I may or may not lust for, Tom is definitely the only one I have ever truly loved. You’ve got to love someone to stay with them given the way our barely existent sex life was. I think most people would have left him over it. Sex is more important to most people than it is to me. Sure it was much more important to me when I was younger, but I guess I just don’t see the world through the same eyes that most people do.

Tom and I have been more like damn good friends for many years now and I don’t know that I could ever get myself interested in having sex with him again if he suddenly wanted it. I don’t even know if a gorgeous woman (the gender I’m still predominantly attracted to) could do the trick for me. Sometimes it bothers me that that doesn’t bother me. But I guess in the end I’m just a little more willing to accept myself as I am than most people would be.

Later…

My dreams have taken a very negative turn and have been filled with lots of desperation. It’s the usual hotel and poverty bullshit. In the first dream, I didn’t know Tom and I was on disability again and about to be kicked off. But this time I had no loving husband to fall back on.

I asked to meet some guy over the phone that I knew as a neighbor-friend, but when he insulted me by asking if I just wanted to “hound” him, which I knew to mean burden him with my troubles, I didn’t bother meeting him.

My mother was in one part of the dream and I was also living in a hotel. The last of my money was running out fast and I knew I had to find a job and then miraculously figure out a way to hold my schedule so I could keep the damn job. I talked to one of the hotel staff (probably in the housekeeping department) and asked if she could help me out by giving me a job. She said, “What are you going to do? Expect to save enough to get a place of your own?”

I told her that I was planning on staying indefinitely at the hotel, knowing that the job wouldn’t pay enough to support a place of my own. I asked again if she could help me out and she said, “Yeah,” but before she could give me any details, someone came up to her with something urgent they needed to discuss with her.

At this point, I woke up for a bit, and then when I fell back asleep the damn dream continued. This time, however, I knew Tom. He was staying in the same hotel, just not in the same room for some reason. My body was getting weak with hunger and I went to the room in which I thought he was staying. I pushed the unlocked door open, but when I saw that both beds were occupied, I realized that wasn’t his room. I then ran back to my room to call Tom, but the call wouldn’t go through. Instead, I kept getting these weird messages. Frustrated and hungry, I went to the hotel’s restaurant and just as a waitress came to take my order, I managed to get ahold of Tom. I told the waitress to wait a bit, and then I was walking with Tom to his room an instant later. “Ever feel like something’s trying to keep us apart?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said.

Then I said something like, “All for trying to make things better.”

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2015 Wow, another house went up for sale down the street and they’re asking $170,000 for it. It goes to show we truly did move at the right time. You’d never get the kind of deal we got on this house now that the economy has improved as much as it has.

We got a piece of Bob and Virginia’s mail, which I’ll bring to them in the morning. I don’t know why Tom didn’t just bring it over when he picked up the mail, but I don’t mind bringing it over. I just hope that if anybody around here gets a piece of our mail they will care enough to do the same for us.

Yesterday my allergies were the worst they’ve been in the 2 years and 2 months we’ve lived here. I hadn’t had any problems and so I dropped my nasal spray down to once a week. Got to make that twice a week from now on.

I hate it when people make a statement without elaborating, leaving me to have to guess at the millions of possibilities the statement could mean. Really wish people would just come out and tell me things. Really, it’s like just say something if you have something to say, and do it with enough explanation for me to understand why you made your statement in the first place. You don’t need me to prompt you to go on. Tom and a few others I know are like that and as harmless as it is, it frustrates me at times.

He will say something like, “Work sucked today.” Naturally, I am expected to pump in for more information by asking how it sucked. And then I end up telling him, “Now couldn’t you just have come out and said ‘work sucked today because blah, blah, blah?”’

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 2015 Hard to believe my youngest niece just turned 25. The last time I saw her she was in diapers and couldn’t even talk. Hopefully, I am only a matter of months away from seeing her and other family members, and no medical drama gets in the way of that.

My dreams turned negative just hours before picking up my health test scores online yesterday. It’s the usual shit I have when things aren’t running smoothly… poverty, being stuck in places I don’t want to be, etc. As long as I’m not falling from 20-foot shower stalls, getting my throat slit, or stuck in riots, I should be okay. My experience, however, has been that the worse shit I go through in my dreams, the worse shit I am likely to go through when I’m awake. Everything else in life is fine, though, except for those damn numbers.

In last night’s dreams, it was noisy neighbors and a strange duplex with no solid wall between us. The noisy neighbor was repairing skirting around their home, but in reality, none of these houses have skirting because they’re set at ground level.

The duplex was weird. The wall that ran between the two stopped about 3 feet from the front exterior wall. I could peer around that wall, down a narrow hallway, and into their kitchen. I guess a couple with noisy brats lived there. I peeked in late one night and there was just enough light to see most of the room since they left a small light on, probably over the stove. It was a big kitchen and very orderly. It might have had blue wallpaper with some kind of design.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2015 My numbers were posted today and while they’re not bad, they’re not good either. My TSH is up to 10.61 from 8.35, and my T4 is down from 1.4 to 1.1.

I’m not surprised, as frustrating as this is. Just had a bad feeling, and I’ve also been a little more hypo lately… dry skin that goes beyond being older and living in the high desert, dry hair that breaks off or falls out, feeling cold at times even when it says it's 77° in here, struggling to keep my weight down, feeling lightheaded at times…

I can live with being overweight, but I do NOT want to get obese. Might not have much choice in the end, though. Hashimoto’s controls us more than we control it in some ways. I just wonder how many more years my antibodies are going to have these anger issues with my thyroid and feel the need to bully the thing as much as I bullied my poor classmates in grade school.

What scares me the most is knowing that the doctor’s going to want to bump me up to 88 mcgs. Tom doesn’t think I have anything to worry about, but I’d worry about all that horrible heart-pounding anxiety returning. It was literally artificial terror and not something you can just “turn off” at will, no matter how much you may come to understand what’s going on. It’s like smoking a joint and trying to tell yourself not to feel high. So telling yourself to “calm down” when you’re adrenaline’s pumping simply isn’t an option.

Tom saw next door’s walkway when he was out watering earlier and said it looked like Bob finished it while I was on nights. Hopefully, he’ll take a few months off before the next project.

My dreams were negative last night. Perhaps a sign of the bad number report? The only neutral one was a voice message from Bob P, who I knew when I lived in S Deerfield, MA in the '90s and who died in prison in 2006. I don’t remember what he was saying, though.

In another dream, we lived in a house that looked nothing like ours (as usual), and for some strange reason, I had fallen asleep on the floor by the front door. I was suddenly startled awake by the sounds of someone just beyond the door, and my first thought was that Tom had come home from work. Then I realized that they were making this ongoing struggling sound that suggested they were trying to break in, and I remembered hearing about a rash of break-ins in the area.

Torn between throwing the door open and surprising them or running out back, I decided my fists and my own anger issues would be worthless against any weapons, so I grabbed my cell and ran out back to dial up the bacon.

Then I had another negative dream where I was told that we might have to rent a place. I knew this meant we were in the poorhouse again and could no longer afford to own. The strange thing was that I seemed to live with my mother and not my husband. I totally hated the thought of returning to the mainstream where you hear a helluva lot more than you do in a retirement community even on its noisiest of days, so I tried to look at the positives to renting instead. No having to pay for things that broke and things like that. I still wasn’t happy with the idea of renting.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 2015 Sat down to make out the grocery list as I do every Friday, and I asked myself, “Which would you prefer… a menu closer to 1000 calories a day which will drop you the same few pounds you keep on regaining because you know damn well you can’t stick to 1000 calories for more than a few days or a nice comfy 1500 cals that’ll keep you 30 pounds overweight so long as you work out?”

I chose the latter… keep the fat, avoid the hunger/fatigue, and take the damn 400-500 extra cals. :)

Since Tom needed to take the six days of vacation time he has accrued for the rest of the year, we had to decide on six long weekends or taking it all at once. I told him that since we didn’t have any projects going on that would take more than a day or two to complete, it was totally up to him. He decided on six long weekends.

Although it’s not always perfect, I still can’t believe there’s a program that will type everything I say. I would have killed to have this in the '80s and '90s.

I had a dream that some younger woman who was laying on a couch and about to take a nap and that has been a well-known celebrity of sorts, said to me as I sat on the edge of the couch, “I have millions of dollars yet I still don’t have it all in life.” I somehow knew that she meant that she hadn’t yet found love. I leaned down and hugged her and said, “Te amo.”

Then I dreamed we lived in a place with two floors. Tom and Andy were upstairs watching TV and I was on my way out of the downstairs bathroom to go up and join them when I spotted a big gnat flying around on the floor. I wanted to kill it before I went upstairs but it kept getting away from me.

I wonder if Bob’s been working on the walkway while I’ve been asleep this week, or if something up there is “conveniently” having him wait till I’m back on days again.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2015 The blood has been drawn and the numbers are in, whatever they may be. I should know what they are before I see my endo on the 21st. What pissed me off was that they had an order in for a lipid panel as well. Really wish they’d told me this and that my PCP had been clearer to me on when she was having what done because I didn’t fast. The last time I had blood drawn I fasted because that was when she told me they were going to test for that, but they never did. Fine. I’m not interested in returning to statins any more than I want to up my levothyroxine dose. I just hate it when they confuse me like this because the only one put out by them not clarifying things, in the end, is me. Why don’t I just fast for every blood test I have? That way there’ll be no questions or problems.

Wish I had more to say other than that one communication rant paragraph, but I don’t. Nothing else is going on at the moment other than that my period was just 3 days late this time around, and that tomorrow I’m going to enjoy sleeping without the pressure of having to get up by a certain time. :)

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 2015 My period is late, not surprisingly. I start to get PMS as if I’m going to be on time, then some of the PMS backs off and my period ends up late. That’s the way it has been lately anyway, and I’m guessing it has more to do with menopause setting in than my thyroid.

My dentist appointment went great. Janet left, though. Some older blonde lady has taken over as office assistant. Holly liked my rainbow dress and the doctor liked my hair. Holly cleaned my teeth and did a gum probe instead of X-rays. You want your numbers to be between 1-3. Last time I had some 4s (I hate that number). This time I didn’t have any, though. I only had a little bit of tartar buildup in the hard-to-reach areas. The dentist, who was thrilled to learn that I’ve been flossing religiously for the first time in my life, said she also flosses every day yet she too, gets tartar. I was actually wondering why she lost so much weight. She was always thin, but she almost seems too thin now, a serious rarity for a middle-aged woman who’s had three kids. She still seems healthy, though. Who knows, maybe she’s got hyperthyroidism.

I got another tube of Clinpro 5000, which is a fluoride treatment that I use at the end of the day in place of regular toothpaste. I use my regular toothpaste at the beginning of my day and that’s when I floss.

They also gave me my goody bag, which is going on the cruise with me. That would be a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste along with a small thing of floss. We both use electric toothbrushes. I have five regular toothbrushes right now, so between Florida and the ship, they will come in handy.

Since the cracked filling isn’t critical right now, we’re going to wait until next year.

Because it was very hot here today, we went to the pool when we got back. I was surprised at how chilly it was. Way too cold for us, so we hopped in the Jacuzzi instead.

I am way behind in editing my book. I’ve got to edit future books as each chapter is written instead of after the entire book is written. It might seem less overwhelming that way. I will go get some editing done soon… to the thump, thump, thump of distant car stereos. Hate that sound.

Later…

Andy said several people in his NA meeting dumped him and he wonders what kind of gossip is going around that they believe. It certainly could be false rumors and bullshit gossip, but did he ever stop to think that maybe it’s him? His trust issues in paranoia can really get to a person at times. A lot of people have problems with people like that or that can’t shut up, though I will say that when we spoke on the phone he didn’t ramble nonstop as usual. I was able to get a word in edgewise and he even asked me if I had anything to tell him before we hung up.

His weirdness and inability to tolerate those who are different than him might be a factor as well, but I doubt it. I think it’s just the types of people that go to those meetings. I’m not saying they’re all bad news, but I think Andy has always had a tendency to gravitate toward people he’s better off without just like I once used to. He said he doesn’t really want to be friends with them anyway because a lot of them have done drugs that he’d never again touch. I personally would never want to be friends with a former druggie or drunk, especially in person, in case they had a relapse. Drunks and druggies don’t just hurt themselves. Their addiction affects everyone around them.

He said he might take a cooking class or go see a shrink because God knows he could use one now. I’m glad that he at least recognizes he has a problem and is willing to do something about it. Never be afraid to reach out for help, I told him. Not sure the cooking class is a good idea, though. He’s already a pretty good cook, and that might feed his obsession, pardon the pun. He hasn’t talked food for the last few days as much as he usually does, but if I’m right about him having even the slightest case of a food addiction, then he should probably avoid food-related activities.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 2015 Tom was telling me how contradicting they’ve been at work, saying “no more OT,” and then asking people to stay late, especially him since he’s the only one in his department capable of doing his job. Then they say they want people to take more time off to use up more of their vacation time by the end of the year, LOL.

As I’ve mentioned before, my logic says we’ll be here till he retires, but that’s not what my vibes say. We were talking about how much we’d get from the 401K (about 15K) if he were laid off and how many months we could get by, minus unemployment, and how we’d probably just sell out and leave Cali if that happened. Well, I realized that that’s probably why my vibes don’t go with my logic; because very few jobs last 12 years (which is how long he has till he retires) without a lay-off. And they do lay people off once a year at his place. They just let some people go, so he’s safe for a while.

So we will enjoy what we like about both the park and the house until he’s let go, and then we will take that opportunity to escape the state we never should’ve moved to given how expensive it is and how many terrifying moments we’ve had here. Oh, those childhood dreams of mine I just had to chase, LOL. Only they never included poverty followed by medical drama. But yeah, my guess is that unless we win big bucks or sue someone silly, a lay-off will cause us to relocate before retirement does, but that’s ok.

I go to the dentist tomorrow, and then the lab on Thursday. Really nervous about my TSH score, but trying not to be. The numbers are going to be what they’re going to be, and well, I can say “no” to any increased dosages she suggests, can’t I?

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 2015 Went out bike riding yesterday evening and could barely breathe when we got back. The day before it had been windy which stirred up pollen. I was wheezy and congested for the rest of the night.

At 9pm we went to Denny’s where I got a totally unhealthy and delicious meal of chocolate peanut butter pancakes, bacon, eggs and French fries.

Tom asked me if he thought I would want to go to the fancy restaurant on the ship. Haven’t really thought about it, as I told him. He said he doesn’t really care for fancy restaurants. To me, as long as the food is good, it doesn’t matter if it’s “fancy” or not.

After Denny’s, we stopped at Walgreens. I got new knee-high hose, Grape Shifter topcoat for nails, and another adult coloring book with flowers, butterflies, paisley designs, and stained-glass windows. It also came with six 2-sided colored pencils.

I had a dream that something really loud was running next door, and as I went to open the front door to see what was going on, a stairwell appeared before me as if we were in an apartment building. I headed down a few floors and looked out the window at an abandoned house across the street where a giant rat was moving about. Then I suddenly realized I was naked and ran back upstairs. On my way up I heard Virginia talking on a phone and saying, “Well, shit happens.” And then I heard her call my name. I threw something on in our house-turned-apartment, then went to talk to Virginia, only I had no idea which door to knock on.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 2015 Yesterday Andy told me he wanted to call me and that, “You’ll never guess in a million years who I just got off the phone with.”

I was frustrated at first because I hate it when people don’t just come out and tell me things. I jokingly said to him, “If it’s Stevie, I don’t care.” I’d be happy for him, but he knows I’m not into celebrities like he is.

He said if it was, he’d have already called me. My next guess was Shelley, but then I realized he wouldn’t get that excited if it was her since he’s pretty much gotten over her and her lack of interest in being his Godmother.

Then he gave me a hint by quoting a “famous” line from the edits I’d make of our days as prank callers. It still didn’t ring a bell, but my next guess was Fran’s brother Ricky. I guessed correctly.

I once wasn’t very picky and choosy when it came to friends, unfortunately, and didn’t do a very good job of filtering out those who weren’t quite right in the head. I was too tolerant and too forgiving. One of my “friends” was an older guy we dubbed “Nervous,” and a guy just a few years older than me named Fran. Both had emotional issues and both were outcasts, only Nervous was actually intelligent and reliable. He, unlike Fran, was independent and owned a car. Fran always lived in group homes. He was last living in an apartment where people like him lived and received daily visitors from their social workers. The social workers basically took care of everything… where they lived, where they worked, etc.

Nervous died of a heart attack in his 50s in the mid-90s, and I cut ties with Fran not long afterward. The final straw was when he billed long-distance phone calls to Tom and I. I’d basically had it with his lies and the grief he would give me. He’d steal little things from my apartment when I lived in Massachusetts where Andy currently lives, and well, there were just too many things that had added up to show that Fran wasn’t worth my time and that I had outgrown him. We all do stupid shit when we’re young, but most of us move on and mature while others don’t, and I knew Fran would always be Fran no matter what.

While I was still living back east, Ricky would join Andy, Fran and I on our prank-calling adventures whenever he would visit a friend. Ricky had a very fierce, commanding voice that would make for the perfect DJ. Using three-way, we would have him call and pick on Nervous.

Out of curiosity, I looked Fran up online as I do with almost everybody I’ve ever known at one point or another, and found he died in 2011.

So Andy wanted to chat live since we hadn’t done so since November. Even though I didn’t see the point since we’re in touch online every day, I know it’s not as easy for him to type, so he called at 8pm my time only to get a busy signal. My first thought was that he dialed wrong since as Tom said, cells don’t do busy signals. Then he got a message saying all circuits were busy. Finally, I called him and the call went through just fine.

It turns out that Ricky has been attending his NA meetings after 27 years of sobriety. They would chat here and there and he’s had his number for a while but hadn’t called him. The guy he wanted to sponsor him isn’t available, so he’s considering asking Ricky. Well, they got to talking on the phone when Ricky started mentioning his dead brother Fran. That’s when Andy started to connect the dots in his mind and ask Ricky his last name.

Then Andy said, “OMG, what if I told you I have you on tape making prank phone calls from back in the late '80s?”

At that point, Andy explained how he and I once knew Fran and the calls we would all make, and Ricky remembered everything. He did say, however, he didn’t want to hear them because he’s not like that anymore. This is no surprise. Most people do change after 30 years or more. Ricky, whose voice has changed a bit over the years, has been staying out of trouble and he’s an advocate for the homeless now.

He was the one who found Fran dead in bed, who apparently died of natural causes. Even though I knew I would never again want to resume our so-called “friendship,” I was always curious as to how he died. He had high blood pressure and diabetes, and he was obese. Andy said he didn’t feel it was best to tell me a friend died online and that was part of why he wanted to talk live.

“What friend?” I asked him with surprise. Despite his memory issues, which are both serious and annoying, I was surprised he didn’t remember that A, I cut ties with him years ago, and B, I was the one who told him a few years ago that Fran died.

Andy also told me that before Fran died he confessed to his brother about being gay. I clearly remember him being genuinely interested in some girls, though I always wondered if he could be bisexual. He was probably attracted to guys more often than he was to girls, but it was much harder to hook up with the same sex back then. It wasn’t as accepted, and the only place to meet was gay bars.

Nonetheless, Ricky assured Fran that he was still his brother and that he didn’t care about his sexuality. The only problem he had was when he stayed over at Fran’s place one night and Fran had a couple of guys over. Ricky slept on the couch and he awoke one night to find Fran’s guests getting it on on the floor right near him. I guess this made Ricky uncomfortable and he nearly got stabbed that night.

Anyway, we fixed my phone today. It somehow lost connection with the network and so we had to reset it.

I’ve had a sore throat all day and I don’t know why. Hot beverages and lozenges don’t seem to help, but my body’s kick-ass immune system should fight it off soon enough.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 2015 Made the rats an awesome hammock from an old, flattened pillow. I just used drapery hooks to hook the corners to the bars of the cage.

Not much else going on at the moment. I don’t know why, but there seem to be a lot of loud car stereos going down the freeway today. That’s usually something I mostly hear after 6 PM in the summer, so why it’s more obvious today is beyond me. Maybe because it’s windy. You even hear the traffic itself a lot more in the wintertime than you do in the summer.

I had a strange dream that we lived in one of two 6-story buildings consisting of apartments or condos for older people. I don’t know why, but we moved out of the ground floor of one building and onto the fourth floor of another.

A woman who lives there gave me a white rose in person and then added me on some social site online.

I swam in the pool and then turned and said to Simone, “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m just sorry we got rid of all your stuff.” Only Simone was solid black. I still miss that little devil at times and totally regret her not working out. Fucking asthma. I really wanted a pet that lives more than just a couple of years.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 2015 Tom reminded me that around here a two-bedroom apartment wouldn’t save us much money at all. That’s true. It’s not what I really want either because then I’d hear shit day and night instead of just in the daytime. I just want to stop hearing blowers, hammers and saws nearly every single day!

Still getting in as good of shape as I can for the trip. Bumped my speed up to 5 MPH even though I said I wouldn't. I sprint until I've torched 15 cals, then rest for about half a minute and then burn another 15. I do this every half hour to an hour until I've burned 300. I also work my arms and abs. Should make climbing those rock walls on the ship a lot easier!

As I told my sister, I will never again order a nightgown in size L. What the hell was I thinking? If I had a twin I could stuff half of her in the thing with me!

Tom and his group won a pizza at work yesterday. There were 8 groups that had to make freestanding structures from newspapers. The one who had the tallest won the pizza.

They’re building a giant FBI building across from him, too. They’re even giving the street its own name. Something like Freedom Lane. I guess it has to do with some government motto or something. Yeah, they really gave us a lot of freedom for a few years there, didn’t they?

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 2015 I don’t get some people at times. How can you complain that it’s mostly black people in prison when they’re the ones who are statistically responsible for committing most of the crimes in the first place? That’s like complaining that there are too many rapists in jail. Well, if they would just stop raping, there would be fewer of them in jail, wouldn’t there be? I just don’t understand why so many people have their heads in the sand where this violent, manipulative group of people is concerned any more than I’ll ever understand why they were so needlessly cruel to them 100 years ago. If you still think racial profiling is really that big of an issue, then wow, the blacks and media really have you brainwashed. My disgust for them is totally reasonable and justified as it is with the Muslims and I will never feel an ounce of guilt or shame for it.

I noticed that Norma was looking for Kayla’s Secret, a story I wrote several months ago and had on Blogger until I moved it. Wow, she would have had to scroll quite a ways down my wall to find that link, unless she bookmarked it.

Now that the guy on Prosebox has fixed some privacy issues, I was thinking I would make my storybook there public and just make the stories private that I don’t want to share. Then I will share the link on Facebook. I don’t want to share any links to Prosebox on other sites that Molly could see in case she becomes a problem again, though she probably already knows about my account there somehow, or could at least find out about it. Still, why make it easy for her?

Sarah sent me one of those stupid things that you forward to 15 other females so that something good would happen in 9 minutes, and all about God another superstitious stuff I don’t believe in, so I just ignored it. I don’t have 15 other females to send it to anyway, and I’m sure most of them wouldn’t appreciate it if I did. A lot of people hate those “chain letters.”

Virginia just took off for the second time in an hour or so. Unfortunately, she goes out a lot more than her husband does. Leave it to the quiet one to be the one to take off more often. I am seriously getting really fucking sick of hearing noise coming from over there every single day lately. But I found out what was going on and I was even in their house yesterday. No, he’s not beating out some new birdhouse.

When I went out to water the cactus plant on the table, Bob was right there. I mean literally right there between the side of his garage and the retaining wall. I asked what was going on and he said that he was repairing the bricks in the walkway running alongside there from the front of the garage to the back. He was beating on what looked like strips of wood and metal, but when I looked over the wall and down into the little walkway, I thought it looked beautiful, so I don’t understand what it is he thinks he has to fix. Tom said that years of rain can damage the cement. Well, I guess it’s a good thing it hardly ever rains here so that if he can ever finally finish this, I shouldn’t have to hear this particular project again for quite a while.

After I picked up our mail, I brought them a puzzle I didn’t want, preferring to go to their front door because I didn’t know if they would feel comfortable with me going through the garage. They do have the garage door open unless it’s at night or they’re both gone, but I chose the front door anyway. I called out “hello” and heard Virginia say to come on in.

I stepped inside, and wow! Their place looks pretty modern, even though I know it’s got to be almost as old as our house since they’ve been there since 1988. Obviously, they have remodeled it, and they’re just the type of people who would do that, too. Although Virginia said something about her place being white and mine being brown. “Not anymore,” I said and told them how we painted all the rooms a different color.

They have a very different layout than we do, making their place appear smaller than ours, but maybe it really is. It’s still gorgeous and it’s heaven compared to a dumpy old trailer. They also have a two-bedroom. We have a very open, spacious floor plan where you can see the living room, dining area and kitchen all at once. I had to step around the wall in order to see into their dining area and I could not see their kitchen at all. I couldn’t even see down their hallway as easily as you can see down ours. The place looked immaculate and not at all cluttered. Didn’t care for their ugly plaid couch, though, LOL. We have plain glass in the doors to our hutch, but they had cut, decorative glass that was really beautiful. However, I chose to use our hutch to display some of my doll collection and I wouldn’t want anything other than plain glass.

She and Bob were sitting at their kitchen table eating lunch. Looked like chips and sandwiches on paper plates which they were just finishing. I asked if they like to do puzzles, and Virginia said, “He does,” so Bob took the puzzle while I apologized for disrupting their lunch. They said I wasn’t disrupting them, but I didn’t stay long anyway. Then again, so what if I disrupted their lunch, LOL, when they disrupt my peace at times. Really, please tell me that this walkway project is going to be over soon and that we’re not going to go right into some whole new project that I also have to listen to despite the cooling temps. Even when he isn’t doing something loud, the general movement I hear from over there gets annoying and distracting… things sliding around, things clanking to the ground, etc. IDK, maybe we should just sell out and get an apartment. I mean, if we’re going to have to hear shit anyway, why not save a few hundred a month while we’re at it? I also don’t have much privacy sitting out there with him practically an arm’s reach away.

Fire and ambulance just went by but unfortunately, it wasn't because one of Bob's hands fell off. They came from further down the street.

Last night I had a dream that I opened a door somewhere and looked out into the corridor just as a woman stepped toward me, crying and rubbing her bruised wrist. Then I looked at the guy standing near her and knew he was responsible for it. I said, “If you ever do this to her again, I swear I’ll break your fucking arm.”

I slammed the door and turned around to where Tom and his family were seated at a long table and repeated what I told the guy. Instead of commending me for sticking up for the woman, I got condemned for swearing. They would do that, too.

Then I dreamed I was going on a cruise by myself, something I would never do in real life. Any kind of vacation by myself would be utterly boring. Vacations are meant to be shared with the one you love. But I was going on this cruise by myself in the dream when I realized the ship I was to be on that was present a second ago had suddenly disappeared. I asked this guy where the ship had gone and they said, “It’s over there now.”

My gaze followed where they were pointing and the ship was now a couple of hundred feet away. For some reason, I was desperate to get on the ship, and I literally dove into the water and began to swim toward it as the guy was shouting out my name.

Later…

I am so on the verge of dumping Andy! Really I am getting so totally fed up with the same old cycle of bullshit. Instead of any thank yous or gratitude for trying to boost his insecure spirits last night, I get insulted instead and now I am even accused of causing him to have dreams about his insecurity. So now I’m supposed to be responsible for his dreams as well as all this other shit he’s imagining? Maybe he’s having dreams of insecurity because he IS insecure. He himself said he was. I’m tired of this guy blaming everyone but himself for his problems.

I once read a long time ago on an old Twitter account of his under a bogus name something to the effect of “It’s okay to throw in the towel at times.” He’s right. Our friendship is getting to be a lot more work than it should be because I have to spend so much time reassuring him in correcting his misunderstandings, false assumptions and paranoia. I know some people think the whole world revolves around them and that everything is about them, but that isn’t so. The old Jodi used to fuss, fight, kiss and make up with certain types of people, but the Jodi of today tends to avoid negative individuals. No one’s worth the time and energy when there are so many positive people out there.

Supposedly I was leaving comments on Facebook pertaining to conversations I’ve had with God knows who in order to avoid a confrontation that is supposed to be aimed at particular individuals. Yes, some chats have inspired certain thoughts about which I have made statements, but there is absolutely NOTHING that bothers me about him that I haven’t already told him directly. The only difference between the two of us is that when I ask him politely not to do something or I point out that something in particular he does is annoying, he does it more, whereas I tend to respect and consider other people's feelings unless they’re asking something totally unreasonable of me or something I couldn’t possibly deliver even if I wanted to.

There are basically two reasons I’m getting fed up. One is because I’m tired of spending so much time having to defend and explain myself, and secondly, I don’t care for his personality. When I pull back and look at him objectively, and ask myself if he’s someone I would want to strike up a friendship with these days if we were just meeting now, there’s no hesitation. The answer’s a quick, “no.” We’re just too different these days. We used to have more in common, but it’s like nothing’s changed with him over the years. Yeah, he’s got his own place, he’s got his own business, he’s drug and cigarette-free, but he’s the same person I’ve always known… immature, selfish, accusatory, paranoid, insensitive, repetitious and very annoying at times.

Although they are mostly not his fault, his memory issues and his stupidity get old at times as well. I have to constantly repeat myself and explain things to him like I’m talking to a child. No wonder he’s never been able to acquire any real skills, though he was once an avid keyboardist. I just wish, as I’m sure he agrees, that he didn’t smoke pot for as long as he did. It has really stunted his maturity and his intellectual growth as well as fucked with his memory. Even cigarette smoke can lower one’s IQ/learning ability.

Unless I’m being just as paranoid as he is, it really truly does seem that he gets off on annoying people at times. IDK, maybe deep down in his subconscious, he’s hoping to drive me away. Some people are like that where they want to end a friendship but they don’t want to be the ones to do it. Well, again, I’m getting very close to being the one to take the honors because I’m getting frustrated. When I think of all the shit I’ve had to put up with from him over the last five years, it’s all starting to really add up. I only held on this long because I felt guilty for dumping him back in 1999. I realize, however, that I have the perfect right to decide who I want to be friends with. No one, including me, should ever feel obligated to be involved in a friendship that they feel their heart is in less and less as time goes on. I have a right to be with people I feel I’m more accepting, tolerant, positive, intelligent, and that I have more common ground with.

Had I known for a minute that he was going to say and do a lot of the things he said and did over the last half a decade, even though he has apologized for most of these things, I never would have contacted him five years ago in the first place. First he prank-called the shit out of us when we didn’t have money to spend on minutes to delete all the shit off our phone.

Then he insulted us in numerous ways online. He knew virtually nothing about why we haven’t had any contact with his family, yet he was making all kinds of comments in their favor as if he were an expert on the situation. The same with the freeloaders next to us in Phoenix. He knew some of it, but the things he said were incredibly cold. Just totally mean and cruel. Imagine, for example, that someone just raped you and then your best friend turns around, only knowing part of the story, and made YOU out to be the perpetrator, all the while defending them and accusing you of things along the way you knew absolutely nothing about. Yet I supported HIM 100% when he told me about his own past legal battles.

Imagine being told it’s sad that you don’t want to have more friends when it’s even sadder that you’re stuck having to clean toilets for just a few grand a year and even sadder that children die of cancer every single day. Really, if you cry tears for the happy, can you possibly have any tears left for the unhappy? All I know is that as soon as people start pushing me to be someone I’m not, I’m gone. No one has a right to sit in judgment of me any more than I have a right to judge them.

Imagine being called fat when you’re not that fat yet the other person is seriously obese.

Imagine being called an “excuse queen” for your sleep disorder when he has a sleep disorder as well (sleep apnea).

Imagine being laughed at and called a chicken because you have a driving phobia. See, that’s the wonderful thing about him… If he doesn’t have or understand a particular thing, then it can’t possibly exist. His way is the only correct way, in his mind. Oh, the power some people falsely flatter themselves with believing they have at times. Again, he has apologized for this and knows that I wish to hell I didn’t have this sleep disorder, but no one in this world has this amazing power and control over me that would cause me to lie about it. If the truth was that I really didn’t want to work, I would come out and say so. No one can spank or punish me for the truth. I’m not a child.

Again, he’s apologized for most of these things, but that’s not the point. The point is he did these things and it’s not something one can just forget even if you’d like to. Just the fact that he’s done this as little as a few years ago tells me how little his personality has changed over the years and just what kind of person I’m dealing with. He supposedly did some things as a form of revenge against me for dumping him back in 1999, and later claimed to regret doing this, saying that he had become anti-revenge. Yeah, but the snide remarks and taunts about my driving phobia, along with a few other things, came after our friendship had been re-established. I wish to hell I could jump in a car every day and go to work, even if it was to some nothing little job that paid minimum wage, but then again, do I really need to defend and explain myself to anyone? Even my sister once told me a long time ago… “When you know the truth and that’s all that matters.” Damn right!

I also get tired of him claiming how he loves to be unique in one breath while equating others to himself in the next breath, most of the time in an inaccurate way. If he’s miserable, then he wants the rest of the world to suffer along with him. If he’s jealous, then you are too. If he’s broke, then you are too. No matter how many times I have tried to tell him that he’s him and I’m me, it’s in one ear and out the other. Lately, giving him any kind of advice (I told him not dwelling on food so much might help when he was saying on Facebook how frustrated he is with not losing any more weight) is like talking to the wall.

To continue down the list of things that have pissed me off over the years, not only have I been called a liar when I have been telling the truth, but he has jumped the gun and made false accusations numerous times, and has even used pictures to offend and annoy me on Ask. Yeah, I wasn’t stupid. He sure thought I was, though, until I spoke up about it. So yeah, I can see where someone as paranoid as he is may think things are aimed at him. He admits that he has been very insecure this year, but people can only be so patient, understanding and supportive for so long before they finally throw their hands up in frustration and have had enough.

His lack of sensitivity and compassion says a lot about him as well. Then again, he’s kind of strange where that’s concerned. He can be as compassionate as he can be insensitive. He has provided coats for the homeless during the winter and has had cheesecake desserts sent to me to help take my mind off of the medical drama I was going through last year. At the same time, he rarely commented on any of my journal entries that covered those horrible times and believes that Robin Williams “chose” to throw it all away.

Sorry, but you are totally naïve if you believe there is a single person out there who is so damn happy they can’t stand it and can’t wait to “throw it all away.” I understand that it may be hard to accept and imagine that there really are medications out there like what he was on and like the Prozac I was on that can make you suicidal, but that doesn’t make it untrue. I can’t imagine living in Alaska. Doesn’t mean some people don’t. Anyway, some people can be helped, while unfortunately, some are beyond help just like when it comes to certain cancers and other things. I know the guy has a right to his own beliefs and opinions, but I prefer people who don’t think the way he does because they tend to have the kind of personality I prefer.

I’m no genius myself and I’m not always the perfect friend, but I would never defend my friend’s perps, or insult and pick on someone for a lifestyle that was harmless, or their fears and phobias. That was OMG kind of insulting, apology in the end for it or not. I hate people like him who expect to be accepted (for being gay and other things) all the while they think they have the perfect right to judge and critique others. Because he’s so miserable himself, it’s like he wants to believe that others are as well, saying he feels “sorry” for Tom and me because we choose not to have a lot of friends. Yeah, and we feel bad for a guy stuck having to clean toilets and who is forever single. Funny, that he should say this because as he himself admitted, he likes being a loner and doesn’t have many friends either. I don’t think that’s his choice, though. I think he has a hard time hanging on to people because he just doesn’t get along with most people.

Since Facebook shares our interactions with our other friends, I once saw him telling someone that guys can’t wait to get away from him when and he starts talking to them. Did he ever stop and think that maybe he needs to just shut up and listen for a while? If you came up to me with nonstop ramblings I’d want to get away from you, too. That was the one negative aspect of his visit. He went on nonstop about his celebrity fantasies.

As I told him, we all have our passions and obsessions, but most of us learn how to control them at least to a degree. First I constantly had to hear all about God and Stevie Nick’s, and now it’s nothing but food, food and more food. No wonder he’s not losing any more weight, older or not. He’s obviously developed a serious food addiction. Any idiot can see this based on how often food is on his mind and how often he mentions it. I have pointed out that this is annoying, and I shouldn’t have because now he is mentioning it more. Yeah, that’s how considerate my dear “friend” is at times.

He admitted that he’s been very insecure this year, but no matter how many times people try to tell him that all that matters is how he feels and what he likes/wants and that he should stop worrying so much about what others think, it doesn’t seem to help the guy. All I know is that it has to do with something bad happening when he visited family in Florida. I guess they are annoyed with his immaturity at times as well, including his hobbies. They call his imaginary band tours immature, and technically they are. Most people in their 50s don’t live in a fantasy world. But in the end, it is totally harmless and it’s not like he can’t distinguish fantasy from reality. Well, then again, that’s debatable if one person believes in God and the other believes that’s just a fantasy passed down from one generation to another as a means of coping with this thing called life. Still, it’s annoying and it’s immature, but it’s harmless. I think there’s something else going on I don’t know about. I don’t like to pry or make people feel like they have to tell me things they don’t want to tell me.

Yes, he’s immature, and yes he can be annoying at times, but I would rather be annoyed than cruelly insulted. Also, if someone can’t handle the little things we ask of them, I’d hate to see them try to take on anything big.

“Sounds like I’m about to get dumped,” I just saw that he said on our private Ask account. Is that what he wants? This isn’t the first time he’s said that, so this reinforces my suspicions of him trying or at least hoping that I’ll dump him. sighs with frustration At this point I’m not sure what I’m going to do, though walking away would probably be the smart thing. Again, I’m experiencing more frustration than anything else lately. Friendship shouldn’t be that way. Now I’m afraid to post anything on my Facebook wall viewable to him, knowing he may very well take it personally. Again, yes I’ve made comments inspired by conversations with various people, but that doesn’t mean everything’s aimed at him or all about him. I actually prefer to voice my frustrations about people on Twitter, though absolutely none of it is stuff I haven’t said to the person directly.

Part of me wishes I had someone to talk to about the situation who knows as much as I do about it, but the only one who knows a lot about it is Tom, and he doesn’t even know every little single thing. He’s always told me to do what I felt was best and never that he was leaning toward not dumping him or dumping him.

I also don’t think it’s right to go to others about your problems with people. I’m sure most levelheaded people would tell me the same thing… got drama in your life? Remove it. Got paranoia in your life? Remove it. Not that I would ever wish him any harm or that all problems can be removed easily enough from our lives. But not contacting him would be plenty simple. Oh, I’m sure I would get a barrage of emails and phone calls, and maybe even a postal letter, but I know how to mark email as spam without reading it, I know how to delete messages, and I know how to write “return to sender.”

Tom suggests not worrying so much about what he says and just ignoring any comments I don’t agree with. That’s not always very easy to do with him, but it’s better than being all or nothing. For now, anyway. Like he said, though, it’s easier to ignore 100 emails than just 1 person who’s literally right in your face.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 2015 My nail decals came in the mail yesterday. I like them a lot but they don’t last long. It’s one of those things that’s only good if you’re going to a party or some other event because, in less than a day, they start flaking off. There’re more raised than I thought they would be so even with a topcoat you can get a few hairs caught under them when you run your fingers through your hair, peeling the petals of the flowers off one by one.

I moved my laptop into the bedroom by the kick-ass sound machine shortly after 8 o’clock. As I was raising the shade in the window by the closet, I saw him go into the back of his garage, not surprisingly. I just never know when the banging will start. It has started as early as 8:30 and as late as 1:30. Really wish he would do this shit after 8 PM or before 8 AM because then I could do something about it. Then again, maybe he will be perfectly quiet today. The point of working in the bedroom in the daytime is so that I don’t have to know what’s going on and be distracted from what I’m doing. It’s good to be in here for other reasons as well. Once those leaves start coming down, they’re going to be out there with the flowers every single day. They don’t want someone slipping on a pile of leaves and suing them.

Worked out hard yesterday, but could only burn 240 of the 300 calories I planned to burn because my hips got stiff and then I got a cramp in one of my calves.

One thing I have learned about working out with Hashimoto’s (or any other condition that prevents you from losing more than just a few pounds) is that you will always look like you have more fat than you actually do. I was lying on my back and I had my right arm extended above me. My elbow was bent so that my hand was over the middle of my chest. Towards the left of the crook of my arm, just above the elbow, was a little bulge. I touched the bulge and clearly, it was muscle. But to an outsider, it looks like fat. When you have muscle underneath a thick layer of fat, all it does is push that outer layer of fat out. It’s very hard to tell just how much muscle I have, though you can see some of that in my shoulders, upper abs and calves.

One person mentioned their legs rocking from the knees down while above the knees looked frightening. I can say the exact same thing about mine, and even my arms. It’s like the lower part of my limbs doesn’t go with the upper part of my limbs. I have slender forearms with these sausage upper arms that look like they exploded on one end. My upper abs are somewhat flat while my lower abs look like they’re trying to run away from me or something.

LOL, Alison seems to be pretty convinced that I’m tracking Ask. I wish I could track that site as well as a few others. This explains why she hasn’t come around lately. I still think she was in on some of the trolling way back when, knowing I would automatically assume it was Kim or Molly.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 2015 My LiveJournal reader is back.

It wasn’t even 9 o’clock when Bob started his fucking hammering. Had a bad feeling about today too, when I got up. Maybe we should just forget Hawaii or Florida and just go rural again when he retires, getting a chunk of land in a cheaper state, which would probably have to be in the west somewhere. The closer we are to people, the more we hear them. Meanwhile, the guy is 86 years old. How many more years could he possibly have the strength to do this shit? I just don’t want them moving or dying before we do because I fear something a lot worse ending up over there. This isn’t the 70s. Noise is just as accepted here these days as it is in the mainstream. I dread the day they start allowing big dogs in the place and okaying them being left outside round-the-clock.

It seems the West in general has a totally different attitude when it comes to noise than the East, same as it does with dogs. Most people out here think it’s wrong to take a dog indoors while most people in the east deem it cruel to leave them outdoors 24/7. I spent 26 years in the East and almost the same amount of time in the West, so I am familiar with both cultures. It’s like it’s more “ok” to be obnoxious and noisy in the West. I mean, look at Tom, a native Arizonan. He doesn’t think Bob is being rude at all and says this is simply what people do (though Tom’s not noisy and no one else in our immediate surroundings is out there beating and banging on things). The West has more of a live-and-let-live attitude when it comes to noise. People expect it, they accept it, and complaining about it is like a sin. Well, my dear husband whom I love very much is entitled to his own opinion, but I find the racket very annoying and distracting, “normal” or not. People just don’t care, though.

Andy asked me if there was any way I could be just as noisy in return. Well, yeah, I could sit out there and beat a hammer or a stick or something on the patio table or blast my music with the door open, but I have better things to do with my time and I don’t care to be just as rude as he is. Would two wrongs really make a right anyway?

Instead, I unplugged my laptop from the 30-inch monitor in the living room and I took it into the bedroom. Because the living room is so huge it’s harder to mask sounds in there with the sound machine, unlike in the bedroom. The master bedroom is huge too, but not cavernously huge. It’s a pain in the ass because the laptop key functions are limited as opposed to my other keyboard, but this is the only way to escape it when I’m on days until he either dies or gets too feeble to do this. As mean as I know it sounds, part of me wishes he would have a stroke that would limit his mobility. But this guy has just as much strength, energy and stamina as a guy in his 20s. He still walks and rides his bike almost every day. Of all the lazy guys out there that would like to sit in front of the TV all day and do nothing, we just had to get stuck next to another project junkie. I’d be willing to bet almost anything that he and his wife don’t even own the computer. Maybe not even cell phones. The research I did on them shows they have a landline. I respect the fact that they’ve been here a lot longer than me, that they’re very nice people otherwise, and that the guy’s only got so many years left to do what he loves to do. I just wish it didn’t have to be at my expense.

I hate that it’s already September. We’re already starting to have highs down in the 80s again. Before the month is out I’m sure I will get to be a penguin or a leopard at night. Sounds scary? Relax, I’m talking about my 1-piece fleece pajamas. One has skiing penguins all over it and the other has a leopard print.

I’m usually good at figuring out my own computer issues, along with things I want to do, but when I can’t… It’s Tom to the rescue. The Kindle cloud reader doesn’t support a text reader, so he helped me find one that does. Now I have the option of listening to stories as well as reading them.

I have been setting my little windup timer to go off every half hour at which time I run at 4 MPH for two minutes, burning a total of 20 calories. I do this until I have burned a grand total of 300 cals, which is about 15 sprints and 30 minutes total. I also worked my arms and abs. I would like to have 1200 cals a day but I still usually creep up closer to 1500.

[twilightpony4]

Backwoods: 9. Are They Asleep?

Michelangelo already had his playstation up and running in the living room. The farmhouse lacked a TV before 2007 so he ‘borrowed’ one from the truck. Truthfully, Raphael helped him snag it as he wasn’t too sure about how fun or long farm life was going to be. 

“You’re up early.” The commenter was Mona Lisa. She walked hunched over and drowsy. Mikey paused the game.

“It’s like noon.”

“Still.” She continued her path towards him. He scooted over on the couch for his sister to be beside him. The lizard lady sat with a huff. Her loose baby hairs floated for a moment before settling annoyingly on her face. Michelangelo used his large hand to wipe those hairs back. Her head tilted upwards and she smiled. “Ah. Waking up to the sun. Even if it is too bright.”

“Yeah, no. It’s weird.” The game was unpaused. Mona gasped in disbelief.

“What do you mean ‘It’s weird’?”

“Waking up and there’s light everywhere?! Not a fan.” Right. Those boys have lived in the sewer for the majority of their life. Some people, or mutants, grow up differently and develop different perspectives. “I need it darker. I tried to close the blinds but it wasn’t enough.”

“Put blankets up in the windows like Angel does.”

“I guess that could work.”

“Is anyone else up?”

“Not a peep from anyone.” Mona sat up. She stared at Mikey, but he wasn’t too concerned to look back at her. “I’m not expecting anyone to be up. Even Leo.” 

“Are they asleep?” She asked. The orange clad terrapin was quick to nod, but Mona was quick to interject.  “No, Mikey. Are.. they.. Asleep?” The turtle continued playing until the idea became more clear. The game paused.

“Shell.”

The two mutants hustled quietly to where their family were resting. By default, Venus was ok as Mona actually took the time to check on her siblings when she woke up. Understandably, the female turtle wanted to continue resting. Mikey knocked on the door and opened it. He looked around the room before giving Mona the clear to come in. She moved quickly to get to Raphael’s side.

“Yeah, you deal with his stank breath.” Mikey half-whispered as he made his way to Donatello’s bedside. He slept on the side that wasn’t hurting with pillows stuffed under his plastron. His mouth was open, making his jowls large as he breathed in his sleep. “Don don don don donnn…. Donnie….” he whispered in his ear. As soon as there was an inkling of him waking up, Mikey was quick to warn. “Don’t move. You’re hurt. It’s over here.” First, he pointed to where it hurt but then he thought that maybe his brother didn’t see him. His glasses weren’t on afterall. In an attempt to help, he thought maybe he can lightly touch the surrounding area to help him get a better sense of where it was. He didn’t want him to move too fast and hurt himself. A fractured rib sounded terrible.

“Ok don’t touch. Don’t touch.” Donatello winced. Mikey drew his hand back quickly.

“Did that hurt?”

“Reflexive,” he admitted. “Thank you.”

“Ewww…” Mikey’s whines caught him off guard. Donnie may have one of the worst visions to exist, but he can tell those two shapes were his brother and his girlfriend. Mikey’s commentary also helped fill in some context clues. “Mona’s way too pretty to get greeted like that.” He mumbled to himself as his brother continued with his morning kiss. Mikey turned his attention back to the brother he wanted to care for.“Do you wanna sit up?” Donnie shook his head.

“Not yet. Let me sit here for a sec. Can you grab my tablet for me?” He pointed off to where one of his bags was still sitting. He didn’t want to bother trying to unpack. He was in so much pain and so tired from having to sit on that car ride up here. As soon as he was given a bed, he was out for the night. His younger brother went over to retrieve it to him.

“Imma sit too.” Raphael added as he grabbed Mona’s hand to imply that she stay with him.

“If you are, can you grab my headphones too.” Donnie asked and pointed to the same bag. The young turtle found what he needed and handed the items to his brother.

“Here, man.” Donnie smiled and put on his headphones to not hear whatever those other two were gonna go on about. When it seemed ok, Mikey took the chance to go check on his last brother.

“L-l-l-l-leeeoo.. Leo..” Michelangelo used the same approach as he opened the door of his eldest brother. Unbeknownst to him, Leonardo was already up. He had been up for hours. His leg was keeping him up and he had to sleep so awkwardly to aid his leg and conform to his anatomy. Truthfully he would have rather liked to be ignored and pretend to continue sleeping, but Mikey getting closer and closer to his ear with his harsh whispers were enough to make him crack. 

“Mm?” He responded. Mikey gave a big sigh and clutched his cowrie shells.

“You alive?” he smiled. He wasn’t sure for a second there since there was so much delay.

“Pretty sure.”

“Ok good. Imma lil new to the super nurse thing so.. Sorry I didn’t check on you sooner. I actually wasn’t up for too long-.”

“It’s ok.” Leonardo cut him off before the young turtle could drone on.

“You wanna get up?”

“I don’t think I want to.”

“You need anything? Hungry?”

“Not yet, thank you. Can you close the door?” It was his signal to get him out of the room. Mikey was quick to take the hint but wasn’t hurt by it. He knows broody Leo all too well.

“Yeah, yeah.” With that, the orange clad turtle fulfilled his wish and exited the room with the door closing behind him. Leonardo leaned deeper in the bed, groaning. 

He wanted to get up so bad. He wanted to fight someone. He didn’t want to be here. It is yet again another instance where they play with their father’s presence in their lives and the mission to get him back was a failure. It has been years since Splinter was first on the brink of death when the Shredder and his Foot clan stormed their childhood home. Leonardo has grown since then. He briefly reflected on how he would go out of his way to find him. He thought about how he would scratch and claw to get back his father. He had to be less childish, less reckless. His sensei means everything to him, but it has been made clear that somebody in this family is required to keep them all together. If he were to be so reckless, he would not only be hurting himself. Then there were the teachings of the Ancient One.

“If it’s not your fault, then why do you treat yourself as if it is.” Just at the thought, this line did not settle well into Leo’s mind. He knows what the Ancient One is intending to say, but he couldn’t get over the guilt he was feeling. His lack of a plan failed. For once, he felt confident enough in his family’s abilities to overpower their enemies. The Foot Clan were generally fierce but as of late, they didn’t have such powerful connections. How were they able to obtain warriors such as the ones he’d seen? Not the typical Foot Soldiers. The women. That woman.

If he hadn’t underestimated her even the tiniest bit as he swears he treats every villain with the same amount of care to defeat… He was slipping. Making no plan was way too out of his character. Had he gotten so comfortable after so much ‘quiet time’? A good leader wouldn’t allow that to happen. It’s not like they never stopped training, but had his attitude changed towards their enemies? Does his team think similarly or is it just him? How do you even bring something like this up to your team? It was already too embarrassing to think that such a simple staple that Leonardo lives by to a Tee was forgotten. 

Let's try to stop thinking about that. Besides, he already got the most annoying turtle out of the way. The others shouldn’t bother him too well today anyways. Especially if he continues to pretend to sleep when they come in at a bad time. Leonardo bit his lower lip and tried to redirect himself. He’s hurt and they’re hurt. Splinter is missing and it is frightening, but what can be done? He had to accept that at this point there was nothing that he could do. This fractured ankle is not doing him any favors. The doctors told him to stay off of it anyways. Therefore, he sat there trying not to think and hearing every other word of Michelangelo playing video games downstairs.

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

Idk how long this is going to last but I’ve grown very tired of constantly having to “have proof” in my scientific background and hope that I can get back to how I used to with my imagination. I’ll tell you what, it feels good to just write what I want and just have things happen and “make sense” because I said so :) 

[bored-storyteller]

Hello! I remember you said you could write for Sally Face even though it's not on your list (if I dreamed of it, excuse me 🙏), since you still look like you're in the fandom... How about the #4 of the prompt list with Sally Face? If you do not write for him I apologize 😭

Hello dear Anon! Yes, Sally Face maybe is the video game I'm most fond of, I can write for him, I just don't always feel like making the requests that come to me about this game. But don't worry! Asking is always fine! Thanks for the request!

P.s. This is more fluff than angst I think, I apologize, is that there is already a lot of angst for him

73- Sally Face, Sal Fisher x Reader

From the prompt list

4- “Do you know what it’s like?”

Gizmo's purr lazily fills the silence in the room, the big cat is taking his ration of free pampering perched in your boyfriend's lap.

His fingers glide absently on the white and tawny fur of the half-asleep feline, while behind his mask you catch nothing but an absent gaze directed at the void between his knees.

By now that beautiful sky-colored eye of his communicates with you without the need for words, and you see how much it seems dull and lost, so much so that it appears almost glass like the one on the right.

Sal is always so sweet and so strong. He has so much weight on his shoulders, yet you always see him accepting everyone else's too. He never complains, he doesn't fidget, and he doesn't scream, not even when he gets angry, and if he does he apologizes as if he's at fault.

You love him, you really love him. You feel it in your guts, especially now, that he is like this.

You don't really know what's troubling him, yet you see how sad he is. His shoulders are bent slightly forward, and his blue hair slips free, covering even more of his usual mask.

Even though you know you are free with him, you are terribly afraid of hurting him. You're afraid of saying something too much, something he doesn't deserve.

As you leave the book you were reading by your side, you try to remember when Sal began to wither.

You noticed it after the last outing you did with the others, but you have no idea if those thoughts that seem to be spinning in his head were already floating around before, and you curse yourself for being so inattentive towards him.

"Give me space Gizmo" you mutter with a playful pout, picking up the lazy cat to move it a little further "I want the cuddles too."

Sal just cooes as his hands remain motionless, letting you nestle your head in his lap.

Once you are comfortable in your new nest, his fingers gently touch your forehead, while you are busy trying to come to terms with the big cat who insists on trying to stay on his master's lap too, at the cost to sit on your face.

“Come on Gizmo. Let me be a little jealous every now and then. " You snort, pushing the royal furry butt away from your nose.

"Are you jealous?" Sal's question is surmounted by the meow of the fake tiger who decides to snuggle in the hollow between your shoulder and your neck.

Your eyes roll up into his gaze and for a moment you don't know how to read that question. You feel him terribly serious, and in a way, you don't know where he is going.

"Yes ... I'm jealous of you ... that is ... is it normal I think?" You know that sincerity is always the best choice with him, but you still bite your tongue, wondering if you are giving the wrong idea.

His caresses have stopped while he silently looks at you, and you don't know what he's thinking, you don't know if you've unknowingly touched a nerve or if you just added a new thought to him.

"Why?" His question comes out as a surrendered sigh "You have no reason ... I say ... it is you who can make others love you, not me."

His words take your breath away for a moment.

"What are you saying…?" You murmur, as you raise a hand to touch his turquoise locks "you know how to make yourself loved even by those who don't even know how to love ..." you whisper softly, yet you don't seem to convince him.

His sigh becomes more impressive in the rumble of his mask, and you look at him patiently, while his hands undo the hooks that block it to his face.

Few people know what lies behind that prosthesis, and it hardly ever happens that he leaves himself so spontaneously in the sight of others. It's because it's you, you know, and it flatters you, yet something so immediate still surprises you.

You believe that his face is something magical, because no matter how grotesque it is, how almost you could say that there is no face, but you love it, you loved it from the first moment you saw it. Maybe because you were already in love with him.

"You were beautiful that night." His words still confuse you, and you force yourself to accept the idea of having entered a minefield. So you were right, was it your last outing that upset him?

"Sal ..." you get up, and now even Gizmo has realized he has to leave space for you, moving to the next pillow.

He doesn't look at you, his eyes are closed, but he continues to keep himself completely exposed to you.

"I really mean it. You are always beautiful to me, but that night ... that night you felt beautiful too, didn't you? You were, you really were, and ... "his shoulders give way a little further forward, as if he were about to collapse under an invisible weight. "And if you hadn't been with me, someone would have come to you. Maybe he would have offered you a drink and then ... "

Your lips part for a few seconds, looking for something to say, but you really don't know what ground you're walking on.

"I'm not really beautiful Sal, I'm just-"

"A normal person. What else do you want?" His abrupt interruption silences you.

In a moment his eye is on you again, alarmed: “Sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me, I didn't mean to be bad. "He whispers softly.

Sal Fisher, always so attentive to others even in his moments of despair.

"Only that ... you ... do you know what it’s like? To be like that…"

His voice just trembles, and you forget to breathe. You would like to remove all doubts and insecurities from him, but you cannot do it.

"No ... no Sal, I don't know ..."

"That's okay ..." he murmurs, trying to console the guilt of your tone "I don't know what it is like to be you either, but ... it can't be so pleasant to kiss bare teeth ... right? It must not be pleasant to feel this dead flesh against your skin, and it must not be pleasant to wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and find this monster a few inches from your face ... I just think ... I just think you should know that you can certainly find someone else ... someone else other than me. "

You have always admired him, also for all the strength he has to live with that weight - one of many - that he carries with him. Perhaps subconsciously he has always found a way to make his flaws simply characteristics, his style. With or without his ponytails, Sal was always recognizable and, in a sense, charismatic.

But you know that even if he is so strong, so resilient, the weight does not disappear.

"Sally Face ..." you murmur softly, as you move your legs to be able to sit astride his lap.

"You know ... I've always looked for many things from life." Your fingers casually play with his tufts of hair "And I swear to you I never thought I'd find what's really essential to me right here."

Your palms rest gently on his rib cage as his slowly brush your hips.

"You might find someone different from me too, Sally Face, but I don't want you to, please." You just smile "Also because ... after a nightmare you are the first thing I look for, and when I find you ..." leaning forward you are greeted by the loving arms of your boyfriend, while you take refuge in his chest, snuggling up to his heart "I do this, and I stay listening to you until I fall asleep again. When you sleep peacefully you never notice, but you always welcome me. "

Curled up there on his chest like now, you have no idea what's in Sal's eyes. All you see are a few blue locks of him falling over your cheeks, while he lets you relax under his chin.

His silence leaves you on alert, and even if you don't move, you look for any clues that might tell you something about his emotions.

A slight tremor in his chest and a restrained sob from him make your heart tremble, but his slowly calming beat just makes you snuggle closer to his body.

"I-" he starts off lightly, but then stops immediately, and when he resumes, you're sure he's changed the subject, but it doesn't matter anymore. "Am I such a heavy sleeper?" He asks, with a shivering chuckle amid the slight gasps of silent tears.

You laugh lightly as you lift yourself up to look at him. In your hands, his cheeks are rough and wet, but even as tears flow from his eyes, he doesn't look agitated or hurt.

"Well, you recover the sleep that all your nightmares take away from you."

Your fingers slide gently under his eyelids to collect his tears. You don't ask him why he cries; you know that in his chest he has a reservoir where he keeps all his emotions and, every now and then, they pretend to come out.

"Wake me up next time you have a nightmare, you're always there when I have mine."

You smile softly as you rest your forehead against him. You wouldn't change him for the world.

"For once, let me take care of you Sal."

His sigh hits your nose as he snuggles a little more against you. Calmly it seems that he can channel his emotions into a single torrent.

"Take care of me?" He murmurs against your lips “How about picking up the phone and ordering a pizza for the two of us? It would make me very, very happy. "

Your cheerful laugh fills the room, while your lips touch what remains of his: "And the ice cream?"

"And the ice cream." He confirms as he accepts your sweet kiss.

There seems to be a long night of pampering with Sal and Gizmo ahead of you, what more could you ask for?

You gently kiss his cheek one last time, before getting up in search of the device to order your dinner.

"Hey ..." before you're too far away, your hand is lovingly held by Sal's "I don't want anyone else next to me."

Your eyes dive into him for a moment, and what you find is nothing but a clear and sincere sky that takes your breath away every time it lands on you.

"Me neither. I wouldn't want anyone else even for a single day of my existence. "

[thewertsearch]

TT: If my dream self is asleep, does that mean she's dreaming, and if she is, who's dreaming the dream, her or me?

Excellent question. Despite half-serious speculations to the contrary, I don't think either of them is 'unreal'. This is a clear case of one mind inhabiting two bodies, swapping between them to maintain continuity of consciousness. 

The robo-slap woke Jade up, rendering her robot, and therefore her Dreamself, inert. Trying to wake them both at once would probably just disorient the target, as they rapidly alternated between Dreamself and realself.

GG: shes most likely lying in your bed troubled and restless

She’s not the only one.

GG: about things burdening her [...] GG: things about who you really are and what your purpose is GG: but you cant start figuring those things out yet because youre not awake because youre not ready yet GG: thats why you have such terrible dreams all the time rose!

Are these kids born knowing they’re destined for the Incipisphere? A part of them is already there, after all, and it sounds like that part yearns to be heard.

Dreamselves know who their Players ‘really are’, and what’s waiting for them in this game. John's is basically being taunted by that Jester doll - he knows he'll be fighting his mortal enemy, clowns, but can’t express how that makes him feel because he’s not properly connected to his realself yet.

While John’s realself sleeps, his Dreamself is probably closest to waking. That’s when it can express John’s subconscious fears, which come out as messy scrawlings on the walls of both bedrooms. 

That’s my theory, anyway. It pays to hedge your bets with this comic. I mean, the jester scrawlings make sense when viewed through that lens, but I’m still baffled by ‘LAME KID’.

GG: maybe the stuff you wrote on your walls can give you a clue?

Enough about John. what are you scrawling, Rose?

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

[hops-hunny]

When He Sees Me

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Chubby!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.3k

Request: N/A

Summary:(Y/n) always thought she was too rational for love, until she wasn’t. (Based off of the song When He Sees Me from Waitress)

Warnings: Slight negative thoughts and angst but vast majority fluff and pining! Oh and positive use of the word fat.

A/N:  Fred is a little OOC in this?? But I honestly just imagine him as the type of guy to be sorta whipped if he really falls for someone.

I stick with real things

Usually facts and figures

When information's in its place

I minimize the guessing game

(Y/n) had always been a rational girl. In her younger years at Hogwarts, as all her friends began to giggle and blush at their crushes, she kept her nose in her books. Although she was curious of what they were experiencing, the thought never lasted long in her mind due to what her mother had told her from a young age.

(Y/n) was about the age of 6, sitting on the floor near the couch as she colored humming to herself softly. She had noticed her mom was in a bad mood due to her being sprawled out on the couch many upon many empty bottles of alcohol littered the table. She wasn’t sure why her mother was so upset but ever since they had seen her father at the park with her babysitter last week her mom had been in this mood and her father hadn’t been back.

“(Y/n) dear, promise me something.” her mother muttered to her half asleep. The girl turned around smiling at her mom. Her mom gave her a weak smile back as she pet the top of the girls head. “Never give your heart to a man. He’ll only leave it in pieces.”

At the time, the girl obviously had no clue what she meant but the older she got and the more she saw the people in her life get their hearts broken time and time again she had developed a clue. So, she simply focused on anything that wasn’t romance. School, plants, knitting, you name it and that’s what she gave her attention to. Even though it wasn’t a conscious action, it still affected her deeply.

I don't like guessing games

Or when I feel things

Before I know the feelings

How am I supposed to operate

If I'm just tossed around by fate?

Like on an unexpected date?

Although her friends described it to her many upon many of times, she still found herself absolutely clueless of what feelings of love was like. That's why when she saw him, she was confused by what was happening.

“Oh he’s simply lovely! He does this funny little things with his hands where-” Although (Y/n) was focused on her coursework, she was still listening to Diane as usual. She liked to listen to her friends retelling of experiences with lovers, soaking it in like a cheesy romance movie. She looked out the window needing a quick break from her work. Her breath hitched quietly as she placed a soft chubby hand over her heart feeling as it raced wildly in the chamber of her chest. Her body had a tingling sensation all over that she had never felt before as she felt herself get dizzy.

“W-who’s that?” she said in an airy tone, causing her friend to follow her gaze. There he stood, laughing and joking around with his friends pushing each other around. His ginger locks blew in the wind slightly and his skin glowed in the soft afternoon sun. 

“You mean you don’t know who that is? That’s Fred weasley! He’s like one of the most popular guys in our year. I can’t believe you just asked that.” She snickered some, teasing her friend. She stopped once she noticed the girl who was usually quick to snap back was unusually quiet. She smiled softly at her expression, noticing that look in her eyes. Whether (Y/n) knew it or not yet, she was absolutely enamoured with none other than Fred Weasley.

“I don’t like him. He makes me feel funny.” she said, however the way she looked out the window still said otherwise.

“Funny how?”

“I don’t know, just funny.”

“Like laugh funny or like funny funny?”

“Obviously not laugh funny, are you an idiot?” She asked, glaring at her blonde friend. She looked out the window once more. She noticed him look back causing her to gasp, eyes wide with shock. He winked at her causing her to scoff, pick her things up before shutting the library blinds and run off to who knows where.

Diane laughed to herself as she began to pack her own stuff up to go after her friend. She sighed before running quickly out the library to catch up.

“Ah, young love!”

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

With a stranger who might talk too fast

Or ask me questions about myself

Before I've decided that

He can ask me questions about myself

He might sit too close

Or call the waiter by his first name

Or eat Oreos

But eat the cookie before the cream?

“For the last time Diane, I’m not talking to him!” she said, slamming her book closed as she tossed it on the table in front of her. Her, Diane and a few of her other friends found themselves in the common room as they usually did on friday nights talking and gossiping about anything that came to mind. Today’s topic of discussion was the girl’s apparent “crush” as they called it. Considering she had nothing to base off of whether that’s what the funny feeling she had mentioned earlier in the week was, she decided to trust her friends in them saying that’s what it was.

“What? Oh come on, give me one good reason why you won’t.” Molly said, facing her friend her sharp green eyes boring into (Y/n)’s (e/c) ones. 

“Oh I can give you a PLETHORA of reasons why not!” the (y/h/h) girl exclaimed as she stood up. She began to pace, trying to rack her brain for good reasons on why not. “Aha! What if he butters both sides of his toast? Or-or what if he asks me too many questions on why I’m talking to him? Or if he’s as popular and well known as you say, what if he takes that as an excuse to ignore personal space boundaries and gets handsy?” 

“He’s a teenage boy, not a serial killer. Someone’s been watching too much muggle crime specials.” Molly said as she rolled her eyes, sighing as she leaned back into the couch. (Y/n) glared at her friend, letting out an exasperated sigh as she facepalmed. It wasn’t like she didn’t wanna do anything about these feelings. She most certainly did. Whatever would get rid of them the quickest is the route she wanted to take.

“Well, you could always let him know another way!” Ronnie said as they looked up at their friend. “You’ve got so many skills and talents, why not take advantage of it?” Although Ronnie wasn’t very talkative, whenever they opened their mouth they always said something that made perfect sense.

“As per usual Ronnie, you’re the voice of reason. Merlin bless Ronnie for all of eternity!” (Y/n) exclaimed dramatically as she got on her knees, pretending to worship her friend like a god. 

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

(Y/n) had been doing just that, making herself known to Fred without making herself known. The (y/h/h) girl had wanted to be anonymous about it, leaving things without her name however Diane pointed out the fact that (Y/n) had “the presence of a ghost” and that “even ghost had more of a presence then her” which meant that even if she did attach her name to the things left Fred would have no idea who it was. Because to be frank (Y/n) was, well, a nobody. 

She noticed this little ‘talent’(if you could even call it that) first year when her teachers would mark her as absent despite her being in the front row of the class and having some of the highest marks. She seemed to fly by unnoticed by all but her small group of friends which they all found funny, especially with Diane being one of the most popular girls in their grade if not all of Hogwarts. 

So, she started off small. She’d leave little notes for him in places she knew he’d find them, usually his first or last class of the day, and his seat in the great hall. She would watch him as he’d read them, flushing sometimes as he read them. However, his usual response was to read them out loud to George, bragging about how a pretty girl was leaving him notes.

“Ah listen to this one, Georgie! ‘Here’s a quidditch tip for you Fred. I noticed that when you’re on your broom you have a habit of going to the right which is why you often get stopped. Try switching it up sometimes! However, that’s not the only thing I’ve noticed. Somehow despite being in that dorky quidditch outfit, you still look just as fit as usual. Yours truly, (Y/n).’” He smirked at that part, a chorus of ‘ooo’s from his friends.

“Although she may be blind to say that, she does know her quidditch! Sounds like a catch if you ask me. I’m surprised she didn’t go for me, the better twin.” George said, choking on his toast as Fred smacked him on the back of the head.

Diane nudged her friend, glancing at her. She laughed as she saw her friend’s round face buried in a book to hide the overwhelming amount of shyness that was overcoming her. Even though this had become a regular thing, she still couldn’t stop the way her heart would race every time Fred would read one of the letters aloud. 

To avoid the notes becoming repetitive, she started to switch it up every once in a while. Baked goods, hand knitted scarfs and gloves, even flowers with meanings behind them made their way into Fred’s ownership. However, the more things he got the more not only him but other people became curious. Who was (Y/n) (L/n)?

But what scares me the most

What scares me the most

Is what if when he sees me, what if he doesn't like it?

What if he runs the other way and I can't hide from it?

What happens then?

If when he knows me, he's only disappointed?

What if I give myself away, to only get it given back?

I couldn't live with that

Molly was currently trying to catch up to her soft friend, a sympathetic look on her face. “Why not? I think you should just go up to him and tell him! So many other girls have tried, claiming to be you.” she said, catching the other girl’s attention. She bumped into her as the (h/c) girl abruptly stopped. She turned to look at her friend with tears in her eyes causing her to look down at her agape.

“Do you wanna know why I haven’t just gone up to him yet? Do you really?” She said above a whisper as she looked up at her tall friend, silent tears making their way down her cheeks. “It scares me. It scares me even fucking more than what I feel for him does. Fred is just so..he’s funny, talented, popular. Who wouldn’t want him?” she choked out, looking away. “What if when he sees me, he doesn’t like me? Whenever he reads my notes or gets one of my gifts he always mentions how beautiful (Y/n) must be.”

“(Y/n)...”

“Let me finish Molly. When he says that, he probably means some tall leggy blonde like Diane. I’m just me.” she lets out a dry chuckle, sniffing as she wipes at the tears streaming. “Sure, I find me beautiful, you guys find me beautiful, but the world doesn’t. I don’t look like anyone he’s ever been with before. Fred is always surrounded by tons of gorgeous women. If he saw me, he’d only be disappointed. If I gave myself to him and he rejected me, I couldn’t live with that. Now I see what my mom was talking about.” she said as she walked off leaving Molly confused by the last part of her statement. She frowned hearing her friend’s words but she knew her better than to chase after her when she was upset. She turned the other way, walking quickly in hopes she’d make it to her lecture not too late. However, a flash of red hair out of the corner of her eye didn’t go unnoticed but it did slip her mind when she saw her friend later.

So, I'm just fine, inside my shell-shaped mind

This way I get the best view

So that when he sees me, I want him to

(Y/n) sat in the library at a table by herself. It was a friday, usually she’d spend this time with her friends in the commons. However, after the never ending pestering to just talk to him, to face him she told them she wasn’t feeling well and that she’d be retiring early. It wasn’t a lie, she had completely planned on getting some much needed rest but as she lay in bed tossing and turning her restlessness turned into frustration leading her to read a bit to clear her mind. Reading was what she enjoyed doing when she wanted to clear her mind or simply escape the insufferable reality she was living in. But after she found herself reading the first line to chapter three 10 times she placed her bookmark between her pages, looking out the window.

It was if the universe was taunting her from the sight in front of her. There he stood, talking to another girl from their year. She couldn’t recall the girls name but it wasn’t that important, she was beautiful. She sighed as Fred laughed at something the girl said, patting her head before walking away. ‘It’s better this way. He can’t see you which means he can’t reject you which means you won’t get hurt’ is what she kept telling herself. However if that was the truth, then why did she feel so empty inside?

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

(Y/n) laughed along with her friends as they sat in the empty common room. Everyone from their house was Merlin knows where at this time as they all shared their intimate horror stories.

“Oh come on, that did NOT happen.” she said through laughs, eating another chocolate from the box on the table. Her cheeks hurt from the amount she had been laughing. Diane was in the midst of telling what happened during her recent sexual endeavor with some guy from her herbology class.

“I swear he did! His face was green and everything! Next thing I know he was blowing chunks off the side of the bed. I offered to take him to the infirmary but he didn’t hear me through his tears so I just made my exit as swift as possible!” she said laughing as well, face red from how much she had laughed through the telling of the story. They all continued to howl with laughter, someone else’s laughing triggering someone else to laugh even more. (Y/n) was the laugh one left laughing as her friends all began to grow quiet. 

“G-guys? Why’d you stop? Who’s next?” she said, looking at Molly who was on her left and Ronnie who was on her right. 

“Um, don’t look how (Y/n) but Fred Weasley is coming this way.” Diane said, causing the girl to stop breathing briefly.

“W-what?!” she whispered loudly, eyes growing wide.

“Yeah and um don’t freak out, but he’s looking directly at you. No pressure though!” Molly said, giving her a rough pat on her back as she offered the girl a smile. The (h/c) haired girl glared up at her. As Fred grew closer, their voices grew quieter.

“Why wouldn’t that make me nervous?!” she said through gritted teeth as she pulled on Molly’s curls causing the girl to let out a quick ‘ow!’. She chuckled nervously. “Well, we have nothing to worry about! It’s not like he knows who I am!” she said as she relaxed some, closing her eyes as she leaned back. She heard footsteps stop in front of her causing her eyes to shoot open as she looked at the ground. Huh. Those shoes didn’t look like Ronnie’s shoes. Matter of fact, they didn’t look like Diane’s either. Or Mo- oh no. She looked up, arms folded across her abdomen self consciously as she looked up at the man in front of her. She couldn’t help but take in his appearance.

He was in a white shirt, some spots see through from what she assumed was a mix of sweat and water. His flaming hair was mostly dry but damp in some spots and he adorned a pair of sweatpants that made him look quite godly in her opinion. If she had to guess, he had just gotten back from quidditch practice. It was weird for her to be this close to him intentionally. The only time she found herself close to Fred was when they’d walk past each other in the hall or when their classes would go by each other due to a required location change for the lesson. Therefore she had never been able to see the freckles on his knuckles, the barely noticeable acne scars that adorned his forehead, or even the way his Irish spring’s shower gel smelled oh so heavenly.

“I’ve been all around the castle for weeks, months even. I think the main reason it took me so long was not only the fact that I haven’t really seen you up close before, but all the other birds claiming to be you. It was like that one muggle film, what’s it called? Cinderfeller?” he pondered for a moment looking off.

“I-it’s Cinderella.” Ronnie chimed in, giving him an awkward smile. They were all quite stunned. Although they all knew that this wild goose chase couldn’t go on forever, they didn’t expect it to be Fred of all people to approach first. They were sure (Y/n) would reveal herself on her own time but it seemed that they weren’t the only one’s getting impatient with the girl’s excuses and whys.

“Right, thank you. So I set off, making a list of every girl in our year in the castle- with the help of George and Dean of course- and we spoke to quite literally all of them. It was easy to weed out the fakes because they couldn’t answer questions related to some of the gifts I had received. So by the process of elimination that leaves you, love. Are you (Y/n)?” He said, crouching down to her level. As hues of brown met hues of (e/c) it was much too intimate for the girl to handle. She sat there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“W-well I am a (Y/n). I’m sure there’s plenty of others in the castle!” she retorted letting out a forced laugh, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt. Was the common room always this warm? 

“If I recall correctly, weren’t you bragging the other day about being the only (Y/n) in the castle? You said and I quot-” a quick stomp of (Y/n)’s foot on Diane’s caused the blonde to quickly stop whatever she was in the middle of saying. Fred looked down at the (h/c) hair girl with a quirked brow and knowing smirk. She was caught red handed. Without another word, he quickly pulled her off the couch with ease, dragging her along with him. She tried protesting and looking at her friends for help but they all simply waved and smiled at her, making kissy faces and noises. ‘Idiots’ she thought as she rolled her eyes. Fred continued to guide her, the path to where they were going looking awfully familiar until they arrived at the astronomy tour.

“Listen Fred, I just wanna say I’m sorry. I know you were probably expecting (Y/n) to be someone who looks like Diane, or hell, even Molly’s dumbass but I’m not. I’m just me.” She began as she walked to the edge, looking off the balcony. “I know now that you’ve seen me you’re probably disappointed. I’ve seen the girls you hang around all the time and they’re bloody gorgeous and-”

“So are you.” he whispered, causing her to whip her head around quickly.

“Pardon?” she responded with glassy eyes. The girl wasn’t too sure why her eyes began to water from three simple words. They weren’t the usual three words that cause or evoke such an emotional response but they felt like the missing piece of a puzzle. Her eyes followed the lanky guy as he walked over to her, tucking a few pieces of hair behind her ear as he interlocked their hands. Long, skinny and defined calloused hands meeting her soft thicker but smaller ones.

“So. Are. You. Beauty is such a fluid thing. There’s no one way to be beautiful, lovely. Museums have many unique and beautiful forms of art and so does life.” He let his hands wander on her sides, gliding up and down her love handles, waist, and hips. He took one of his hands to tilt her head up oh so gently. “If you were a sculpture, you’d be made of the finest of marble by the most talented of sculptors. Hell, if I wasn’t so bloody bad with art I’d sculpt you myself but I don’t think I’d be doing you much justice. It’d be a monstrosity.” he said, shuddering at the idea of him doing anything art related. (Y/n) found herself giggling at that.

“If only you applied this verbiage to your coursework. Perhaps you’d actually be doing decent.” she remarked as she continued to laugh. Fred gasped a bit before joining in as well with his own laughter. As the laughter died down, he lifted a hand caressing her cheek, thumb sweeping across the smooth skin. She found his eyes to see they were filled with adoration. “Fred Weasley, are you whipped for me?” she spoke softly as if she had said it any louder, that he’d simply disappear.

“I have been since the first time I saw you.” He responded, his own cheeks flushing a bit with a light crimson. She looked at him puzzled a bit before her eyes widened slightly.

“You remember that? That was months ago!” she noted. He grinned at that, pulling her closer.

“Of course I do. Imagine my delight when I found out that beautiful girl who slammed the blinds shut on me happened to be the girl my heart was slowly going out to with every note and kind gesture you sent my way. Merlin is definitely on my side.  Although I must be honest,” he looked away for a bit before lookin back at her. “The list was a huge help, but I also couldn’t help but overhear your conversation in the hallway that day. However I knew then wasn’t the right time to approach you, I assumed you would’ve just been more upset over the fact I was eavesdropping a bit.” he mumbled. She opened her mouth to question what conversation before she recalled what she had said to Molly that day in the hallway.

“Let me finish Molly. When he says that, he probably means some tall leggy blonde like Diane. I’m just me.” she lets out a dry chuckle, sniffing as she wipes at the tears streaming. “Sure, I find me beautiful, you guys find me beautiful, but the world doesn’t. I don’t look like anyone he’s ever been with before. Fred is always surrounded by tons of gorgeous women. If he saw me, he’d only be disappointed. If I gave myself to him and he rejected me, I couldn’t live with myself. Now I see what my mom was talking about.”

“Hearing you speak so lowly about yourself upset me quite a bit. I wanted to plan out what I was going to say a bit more and also make sure it was actually you.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear me say those things about myself. I usually don’t say such things like that, I’m very confident in the way I look. To me, fat and ugly aren’t synonymous but I know everyone isn’t so open minded.” she admitted, dropping her gaze to the ground. “I’m also new to this whole feelings thing. You’re the first guy I’ve ever had feelings for.”

Now, it was Fred’s turn to become speechless. He couldn’t believe his ears, he had the honor, no, the privilege of being the first guy to be such a sublime goddess of a woman? He felt his ears heat up and he knew he had to look absolutely ridiculous. “I don’t blame you, I am one hell of a guy!” He said, flexing his arms as he flashed her a cheeky grin. (Y/n) scoffed some, shoving him away as she rolled her eyes playfully. She pondered for a second before standing on her tippy toes planting a kiss on his cheek...or at least that’s what she had planned. Fred being Fred turned his head last moment wrapping his arms around her waist as he pressed his lips into hers. She gasped softly, chills running up her spine again as her body tensed.

Even this was her first time having a kiss, she could tell this was a feeling she’d be craving nonstop. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling Fred down to her height. The ginger boy smirked into the kiss, trailing his hands all along her soft frame practically melting at the feeling. His hands snaked their way down to her ass, cupping the pillowy flesh between his large hands causing the (y/h/h) to moan softly. The Gryffindor pulled away, biting and pulling her bottom lip along with him.

“So, I have a question for you then…”He started, pressing his forehead against hers. She felt the warmth of his minty breathe hit her face as she looked into his eyes expectantly. “Do I really have a tendency to go to the right when I play quidditch? Because in my opinio-”

“Fred! Really?!”

[cattyanon]

Well shit guess I gotta talk about the AUs now.

Okay, so ones a Werehog AU (less developed) and an ‘exe’ inspired character based on a concept I found neat.

Since I don’t got much on it since it’s more recent I’ll start with the Werehog AU. 

So the premise is that after Chip seals Dark Gaia away and gives Sonic the bracelet it basically becomes an inhibitor to his Werehog form.

Ya see, I never really liked the fact that Dark Gaia, even though it does make sense, just took all the Dark Gaia energy outta Sonic. In this case I’d like to imagine that after spending so much time trapped inside Sonic the Dark Gaia energy bonds to him. 

So basically the bracelet keeps him from turning into the Werehog but I also would like to think he’s still got a few quirks even with the bracelet. Like him having longer fangs and a longer tail. He’s probably also slightly poofier which is unnoticeable until you touch him and since Sonic isn’t a touchy person nobody notices except maybe Amy. Plus his quills are slightly darker.

The ‘story’ would start off with Eggman accidentally breaking it. It probably happens in the afternoon which makes Sonic more prone to lashing out. Which he then proceeds to do since Eggman broke his only keepsake of Chip.

Anyways this makes things extremely harder on Sonic, the main issue being a Werehog 24/7. Then there’s also the fact that he’s more prone to sleeping during the day than at night which is a problem since literally everybody else is awake during the day. This kinda fucks with his sleep cycle as he tries to stay awake during a time where his body thinks he should be asleep.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

Second AU is inspired by the FNF Below the Depths mod. I thought the eternally drowning thing was such a cool concept and since my brain refuses to give me an original idea I’m stuck with being inspired instead.

For those who don’t know about the mod, basically in the first game while going through one of the underwater zones Sonic manages to get himself stuck in one of the giant spike ball traps and sinks to the bottom. Due to... something... he keeps reviving every time he drowns. The catch is that when he revives he gets to drown again. Also after being stuck so long Sonic starts forgetting things. TL;DR It’s basically a never ending cycle of Sonic drowning with some eventual memory loss.

I mostly just took the “eternally drowning” and “Starts losing his memories” concept and expanded on it.

So, during Sonic Forces when Sonic is captured he gets tortured almost every day by Infinte by using the Phantom Ruby. At some points a few loss of limbs happen. First a leg, to hinder his running. Then some other time he cut off one of Sonic’s arms and half of one of his ears.

Eventually Eggman decides that it’d be best to get rid Sonic altogether instead of risking something happening. So then, what better way to off your worst enemy then by one thing they fear the most? Water!

So Eggman proceeds to chain up Sonic in a special chamber and waits for him to wake up. When he does, Eggman explains the situation and what he’s about to do. At first Sonic doesn’t believe him, but the more the water fills up the less confident he becomes that Eggman is bluffing.

Eventually, when Eggmsn confirms that Sonic is dead, he leaves the room and turns out the light. Then he proceeded to just... kinda forget about Sonic being there due to being so focused on winning the war. Aka he has no idea what happens with Sonic (which I will get to).

Anyways, they eventually win the war thanks to Silver’s interference. Shortly after Silver leaves they go on a search for Sonic. The thing is, they have no clue the place Sonic is trapped in even exists due to it being in space. Plus Eggman never really mentions it even in his database.

So despite everybody’s best efforts they just can’t find Sonic. Years go by with no sign of Sonic and most presume he’s dead. Tails still has a small flicker of hope that somehow Sonic is still alive.

Now here comes the juicy part...

One day, Shadow is tasked by Gun to investigate Eggman bases. Especially the super obscure one they managed to find out about not too long ago.

You can probably see where this is going but eventually Shadow stumbles upon the room Sonic is in. At first he thinks he might be imagining it but once he manages to turn on the lights in the room it’s painfully clear it’s Sonic.

Shadow, assuming this is Sonic’s corpse, decides to take him back to Earth for a proper burial. Imagine his surprise that not long after freeing Sonic he’s somehow still alive. This is where the story really takes off.

I bet at this point you’re going “But how is he still alive?” and the answer is Chaos Energy. Despite after so long his Chaos Energy managed to barely keep him alive. Every time he’d drown the Chaos Energy would basically revive him again and again.

Much to Sonic’s dismay, this gives him an affinity for water that he had no idea about until sometime after Shadow rescues him. One of these things include water limbs that replace what was torn off him.

Despite this fact, Sonic still hates it. Mostly because it reminds him of what happened.

I kinda wanna make a fic about it. Though I’m not sure what the end goal of the fic would be. Maybe Sonic recovering? Yeah let’s go with that.

[eligaxy]

Wind

☆ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 : Venti x gn!Reader

☆𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 : near death experience, you’re confused asf about everything, bad writing cause i suck, spoilers for the we will be reunited quest!! And also for venti’s backstory, venti is serious for once (yes it’s a legitimate warning🤚)

☆𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 : Some angst, some fluff? Idk bye🤨

☆𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 : "It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask." (2.8k words)

♪𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 : i’m an idiot simp, i did this in one sitting and half asleep, english isnt my first language BLA BLA IM SORRY FOR MY POOR WRITING BUT HAVE THIS

basically you don’t know if you can trust venti or not, head says no, heart screams yes

Also, I was listening to stormterror’s lair ost while writing it, just because its fucking amazing, you might wanna listen to it too

I’m nervous to post this?/&:! This is the second fic i’ve ever finished in my whole life

i love venti and he’s hot in his god outfit i don’t make the rules

KAY ENJOY <3

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

Saying you were exhausted would have been an understatement. After reuniting with your sibling, you had been frantically searching for clues about khaenri'ah and ways to Inazuma. With no luck, you couldn't find any traces of Dainsleif or of your twin. The ruins had been sealed and you had no idea what happened to the inverted statue or the corpse you had found there. Desperately, you clung into every little information you had, you would have turned every rock on this archon damned continent if you had to, which is what led you into those ruins near Guilli plains.

Walking along the destroyed buildings your eyes caught sight of a dandelion and you froze. You missed them so much, why couldn't they go back home with you? All you ever wanted was to be by their side why, why were they running away from you?

You remembered your travels, the moments you shared together, their protectiveness over you, the fondness in their eyes when you smiled at them. You remember the times you got hurt and healed one another with your now missing powers. You remember sleeping by their side and being grateful to the universe to let you keep your ray of sunshine everywhere with you. How ironic.

What had they meant 'once you reach the end of your journey' ? What does that even mean? Stupid twin, if they knew you were here the whole time, why hadn't they come to you? Why were they always leaving just when they were within your grasp? Why? Did they know how much you missed them and how much your heart broke when you finally saw them? Did they?

You only realized you were crying when a small gust of wind had your wet cheek react to the cold, breaking your train of thought. Wind.

The wind is everywhere, you think, free as a bird, always accompanying every citizen of this world, never truly alone. With this in mind, you resumed your exploring, slower this time.

A sigh escaped your mouth. You didn't want to admit it, but the wind did comfort you a little. Almost as if he was here. God of freedom and of the breeze, he was more a singer than a protector and you couldn't bear to think about him. Was it true? What Dain said... Did he destroy this nation? Was he the cause of the scenery that still haunted your nightmares up until 500 years later? Your brain simply couldn't accept that Venti, your Venti, you catch yourself thinking, could have made such an act of wrath. He was the epitome of freedom, why would he take the very thing he based all of his existence on from mere mortals? Barbatos simply couldn't be afraid of being overpowered, he didn't even care about power. All he wanted was freedom and happiness for his people. Surley this couldn't be right?

But then again, who were you to deny the wipe out of an entire nation? The gods did it. They were afraid that Celestia would be overthrown by the pride of humankind, the destruction of khaenri'ah by divine beings was a fact. There was no misunderstanding about this. That was the one thing you were sure of. So why did you feel like crying even more now?

The mere thought of a gentle soul such as Venti committing innocent people to an eternity of suffering didn't sit right with you. Even when his dearest friend Dvalin had turned against him, he didn't try to stop him, didn't even ask the dragon to save him. He healed and helped him, gave him a choice.

'What is freedom if demanded of you by a god?' was the same person that asked this question the same one who committed mass murder? Genocide?

Did the little wine-lover bard you had grown fond of destroy all hopes and light your kin had?

You remember that night when he freed Stanley from his burden, freed his and his friends' spirits. You had marveled at his action, in that instant he was a god, and he definitely hadn't struck you as a murderer. You remember that look of silent pain and grief in his eyes when he sang the tales of the nameless bard he had taken the appearance of. You knew he trusted you enough to share his story, something so personal, you could almost feel the war that took down the tyrant of Mond. Oh how much you cherished that evening, treating him to some well deserved dandelion wine afterwards, his favorite, and asking him to sing you more about the time where was nothing but the spirit of a breeze.

Your heart broke a little, remembering his rosy cheeks and drunk smile, you wish you could talk to him, ask him what happened. What did he do, was he really as dangerous as you had been told? If so, then why did you feel so good around him? Why did you feel like you could give hi-

You stopped walking upon seeing a ruin guard up ahead in the distance. You're so stupid, you think. Feeling this way is not gonna get you anywhere, especially with how the bard had been missing for a few weeks now. Ever since you had last seen your sibling.

Where was he, where was he wandering off to? You walk towards the disabled ruin guard, not really paying any mind to it, still thinking about the god you longed to meet with. If you could see him, what would you even say? Would he even answer your questions? Why did your stomach feel so light and funny when you thought about seeing him, why aren't you angrier?

You're almost at the killing machine's level now, so lost in your thought you don't notice the five other similar robots hidden behind a wall next to it. You notice them only when it's too late and you've already turned them on while thinking about examining them and collecting their serial numbers. When you hear the familiar tick of the mechanism turning on, you internally panic and think about running away only to calm down moments later and think to yourself that you can simply beat it and take what you came here for. Even if you are emotionally and physically tired, you can manage, you think.

That was before hearing five other consecutive ticks right after it, and all around you.

Turning around, your gaze falls upon the small army of field tillers. Fuck.

Paimon wasn't with you today, you had asked for some time alone which she hesitantly accepted, so you couldn't ask her to go fetch help. You would have been worried if you had all your capacities but with the state you were in, you were wondering how you were going to survive this fight. You were alone, none of your companions with you, and deeply weakened by the busy day you had and the few hours of sleep you had managed to steal away from the night. Was it today you would meet your doom, with all your questions and uncertainties unanswered?

You tried your best to fight with the strength you had left, but quickly grew desperate after what felt like hours of efforts to swing your blade and being able to only take one monster down out of the six. It didn't help that you got injured along the way, their blows becoming harder and harder to dodge. After being thrown on the grown for the third time, you understood you had at least two broken ribs and that your shaking legs would soon fail you as well.

Fear crept upon you, you would die here today, alone. Alone. You couldn't talk to your sibling after all, couldn't understand. You didn't even get to talk to him one last time. Him... You would die without the knowledge of the truth about your bard. You would die alone. You didn't want that, you couldn't look death straight in the eye.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

-

In Mondstadt, there was a musician, a weird singer everyone had heard about at least once. He lived off of his songs and was mostly known for having a great story-telling and being an alcoholic.

The number of people who knew the true nature of his identity were few and he was perfectly content with that. He didn't wish to be a god anymore, his gnosis had been taken away anyway and it's not like he had any power over the city of wind nowadays. Even if his people still worshipped him as Barbatos, it didn't sit right with him to be called a god anymore. It actually never did, he thinks to himself with a smile, he never really took any responsibilities that came with the divine title which is why he was so weak today. But it didn't matter to him, his smile turns into a soft giggle.

Sitting on a mill that was once born from his steps he looks fondly over the city he founded. Even if they were godless, the citizens were still thriving and free. He cared oh so very deeply about the place even if he rarely, if not never, showed the affection within his heart. He remembers the day he grew strong enough to dispel the storms over his actual Mondstadt, and made the weather gentle enough so that there was no need for fireplaces. Nowadays, he loves watching birds nest into the chimney tops and seeing them found their own home. It gave him a sense of belonging like no other, not above his people, but walking among them and watching them nest into this cocoon he created. He was proud of what happened to his land and would do it all over again if he had to.

Especially since it led to him meeting you. This thought doesn't catch him off guard, you often roamed around in his mind after all, and it's not like he didn't write at least three songs about you and your feat, your smile, your courage...

Ah there he goes again, rambling about you in a whisper. He turns around to the statue of him his people erected in his honor, chuckling at how they never made the connection with his signature braids. His, but not really his, since he had stolen this form from someone who was much more deserving of this power than him. Seeing his friend being honored with the statues of the seven around the land made him happy, he hoped that it was a good enough thank you gift in return for everything that the bard whom he couldn't even remember the name of anymore did for him.

Upon gazing at the statue, he remembered telling you of his long gone friend. It was the first time he had talked about him to someone else, he didn't even mention it to Venessa, she who made him believe in himself again. He could ask himself why, but he simply knew that you had something different, more than meets the eye. Perhaps it was because you weren't from Teyvat, or perhaps it was just you being as simple as your natural self but he was simply and utterly captivated by your being. You inspired him to no end, at first he thought it was because he had never met someone like you and he loved new things! But as time grew and he got to know you, he understood quickly the meaning and depth of his passions. He thought of it with a light chuckle, content with your presence alone. He really did need and want you around.

So why did he purposely avoid you like the plague?

The wind had brought to his ears that you had met with Dainsleif.

And your twin.

His first reaction was to search for you, talk to you, he wanted to be here to know what happened! You had searched so long, he couldn't contain himself, still listening to what the wind told him, he started running with excitement but... But wait, Dainsleif was... He told you what?

Oh.

So you heard about Khaenri'ah. He had stopped dead in his tracks and turned back, only sending a warm current of wind your way, hugging you from afar.

He wasn't ready to talk about this yet, not ready to face you and absolutely not ready to answer your questions. He was a coward, he thought, running away like that but what else could he do, really. It was only natural for him to be as uncatchable as air.

A sorry excuse to avoid the fact that even if his past had marvelous story like the one of the nameless bard, it also had its share of darkness, something he wasn't ready to dive back into. Especially not now when your arrival has been shaking this world up like it hasn't been since at least 500 years.

But oh, how he longed to see your face or to hear your voice. So he asked a breeze to report to him what you were up to, and where you were. Just in case! he tells himself, what if you needed help ehe? But he knows you're competent and you won't need the help of a weakling coward like him anytime soon. Or so he thought.

Because when the breeze only gives him a few words back, his blood runs cold.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

-

As you murmured these words in your desperate state, not really for anyone but yourself as a last resort, a prayer of some sort, you tried to stand by leaning yourself on your sword and failing miserably. You didn't dare look up as you heard the loud footsteps of the metal giants coming your way. It was over, and you barely managed to accept it.

As you rested your forehead against the cold handle of your sword, you closed your eyes, tears starting to make their ways out of your closed eyelids. All you could feel was remorse.

A soft breeze moved your hair slightly and your chest felt like a black hole had taken place where your heart used to be, regretting to not have been able to meet him under the tree at Windrise one last time.

The breeze quickly grew stronger, until it felt unnatural and you looked up from the ground, only to close your eyes again immediately when you realized the wind was too powerful for you to keep them open. If you had struggled to see though, you would have been blinded by the white light that soon illuminated the whole ruins. You didn't have enough time to register the situation when you felt a hand being laid atop your shoulder, snaking around your collarbones and pulling you back into... nothing? Another arm circled your weak form and a voice you immediately recognized said

"I've dealt with things worse than you, now crumble."

You realized that if you couldn't feel a chest behind you while still being embraced by his arms, it was because he was floating above you, and not standing behind you. A look in his direction confirmed your suspicions but what stunned you wasn't the fact that he was flying, but the attire he wore. Barely covering his body, a white set made of materials that seemed like clouds and liquid gold contrasted perfectly with his regular green clothes. His hair was glowing green and his eyes that were focused on the ruin guards up ahead had a marvelous shine that you had never seen before. He had that same aura he did the night he freed Stanley, but there was also something different about the way his hands gripped you a little too tightly or the way his voice sounded.

"Venti.." You muttered his name, relief and affection flooding you all at once, in his presence you felt as if nothing bad could happen to you. How foolish could you be, just a few hours ago you were speculating wether or not he had wiped out an entire civilisation and now here you were, being saved by him and feeling safer than you had in months.

"Close your eyes, I don't want give you a headache" he said, slowly floating legs first towards the ground. His unusually serious voice surprised you (and him) but you did as he told you. Letting go of your sword and leaning back into him, you let him deal with the monsters ahead of you.

"It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask."

Being protected by a god really didn't feel that bad. Especially when you were in love with said god.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Thank you so much for reading whatever this is until the end :’)

Don’t hesitate to comment or reblog, tysm <3

Ps: venti loves u and so do i do pls take care of urself mwah

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Sovereign Talks (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil Genre: Bit of angst sandwiched between two pieces of fluff Rating: T for language Notes: Another partially/selectively mute reader story! Again, this is somewhat self indulgent, essentially being a self-insert story with edits to make it better for a wider audience. PS Daniela says some stuff that's kinda insulting, though it's out of misunderstanding rather than poor intentions, and she tries to make up for it. Also, some of the descriptions of the reader's muteness might not make sense to everyone, as I'm essentially describing how it feels for me, personally. Summary: Daniela's favorite servant is sweet, charming, eager to please, all the things she wants from a romantic partner. But there's one detail she's never quite understood. An argument, a discussion, an inevitability.

Try as you might, it was nigh impossible to please your employer. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong, and Daniela Dimitrescu was more than pleased to point it out to you. At least her intentions weren’t severe. It didn’t really bother her if you missed a spot while dusting, or if you accidentally stumbled upon a ‘private’ conversation. What mattered to her, at the end of the day, was having material to tease you with, or ‘bargain’ with. She’d approach you slowly, musing out loud about your chores. Then she’d point out a flaw, smirking ever so slightly, before placing a finger beneath your chin. You’d make awkward eye contact, desperate to get out of the situation.

And then she’d tell you exactly what she wanted from you.

Most days it was simple enough. Or at least it had been at the start, when she first sought you out. ‘Carry these books for me’, she’d say, beckoning you to follow her. ‘Make a copy of this poem so I can return the book to Duke’, she’d command. Every single time you were powerless to refuse. Hell, you couldn’t even say anything if you wanted to. So you did as she asked. In time, you came to realize the truth behind her actions, the center of her motivations: She wanted to spend time with you.

You had been baffled, at first, to connect the dots in such a way. But Daniela made no attempt to hide her feelings, letting her touches linger on your skin, smiling without any cruelty when you were near. Once, she had even covered for you after you broke a vase. When you had tried to protest, hands waving, mouth refusing to speak, she had shrugged you off with a simple ‘you are worth the price’. Ever since then, the two of you had been rather close. Sure, she had never officially asked you on a date, but she had held your hand while the two of you read. And she had held you, swaying back and forth, as music played in a distant room. Then there were the times she caught you in the corridor, pressing you against the wall for a quick kiss… or a long one, that is. Certainly that meant something? Otherwise you’d look quite silly, blushing as hard as you tended to.

Eventually your concerns subsided considerably. It took a long, difficult conversation, however, and an argument you’d never forget…

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

“Have you read Crier’s War yet?” Daniela asked, looking at you over her own book. The two of you were in her personal study, near the library, lounging in peaceful quiet. Well, it had been quiet. At her question you glance up, ensuring you made eye contact before shaking your head no. “I think you’d like it. Impossible love between two people from vastly different cultures, who start out opposed… sounds familiar, hmm?” This time you nod, laughing a little under your breath. Then you’re returning to your novel, oblivious to the way your partner is watching you, her eyes narrowed. When she catches your attention once more, it’s with a question you had hoped she would never ask. “Why don’t you talk?”

Trying to hide your discomfort, you practically bury your nose in your book, refusing to look up at Daniela. In response she grabs your notepad, slowly sliding it closer to you. For every second of silence she moves it another centimeter. With a slight groan you give in, snatching it from her hands, but sending her a glare as you do. Quickly you grab your pen and scrawl her a note. Not an answer, rather a question of your own.

“Why does it matter?” Clearly that wasn’t what she was looking for, as she leans back and gives a groan of her own.

“Seriously? I’m just curious. You can laugh, groan, make other, nice little noises… I just want to know how you work,” Daniela explained, frowning all the while. Admittedly, you understand where she’s coming from. But that didn’t mean that you were terribly comfortable with this conversation. In fact, it’s a subject you’ve been dreading ever since the two of you started ‘dating’. How exactly were you supposed to explain your condition? Especially without being able to talk directly through it?

“It’s complicated,” you write, angling the paper so Daniela can read it from her side of the table. But she only spares it a quick glance, before staring hard at you again. “Fine, babe. My mouth feels like static. My tongue is heavy, and trying to talk is like walking when both your legs are asleep. There’s never not a lump in my throat.” Now she’s reading attentively, frown vanishing, replaced by a confused expression. Shifting awkwardly, you internally pray that she doesn’t have any follow up questions. Alas, there are no gods on your side this day.

“Did something happen? Or were you… born like this?” Daniela asked, watching you closely. Frustrated, you give her a pleading look, hoping that she’d get the message and back off. Instead she doubles down. “We could arrange for a doctor to come out here, if that’s what you need. All you have to do is tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t expect you to understand. It’s a multifaceted issue, and-” you have to turn the page to continue writing at this point- “a very personal one. But if you must know, it has to do with my anxiety.” There’s a pause, and for a few seconds you think the conversation is over. The relief that floods your chest only lasts a single moment. Then you’re face to face with Daniela, who’s leaning across the table, eyeing you with an expression you can’t make sense of. Now your heart is racing, leaving you trembling.

“So… it’s not a matter of whether or not you can talk at all? It’s a choice?” Daniela questioned, sounding aggravated. Instantly you’re shaking your head, scowling at her interpretation of your words. “What, you’re saying you can’t even relax enough to talk around me? Your fucking girlfriend?” This was exactly the sort of thing you had been worried about. How could you expect Daniela to understand the way your mind locked your jaw in place? How could she ever realize how terrifying the whole castle was?

“Calm down and let me elaborate, please,” you write, as fast as you can. But Daniela yanks your notebook away from you, tossing it to the side. All you can do is stare at her in shock. This was more than just a misunderstanding, this was her actively sabotaging your only reliable method of communication.

“You want me to calm down? Can’t you see why I’m upset? I just found out my partner isn’t comfortable around me. We could have been talking all this goddamn time! Why haven’t you told me this before? Why haven’t we worked on this?” Daniela was practically yelling now, and both of you had risen to your feet. You’ve backed away a meter or so, only for her to close the space between you, one hand cupping your cheek. No matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to look her in her eyes. “C’mon, please,” she whispered, voice barely audible. Tears are starting to cloud your vision. “Say something. Anything.”

Wordlessly, you pull yourself from her grasp, too overwhelmed to do anything other than let your feet carry you out of the room. Half to your relief, half to your misery, Daniela doesn’t lift a finger to stop you.

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

Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since you ‘talked’ to Daniela. Ever since, she had been avoiding you, and you her. Hell, for three days you struggled more than usual to communicate with anyone because you hadn’t dared to go back for your notebook. In the end someone had found you a new one. It didn’t quite feel the same though, considering your normal one had been a gift… a gift from the very person who had taken it away from you. For two weeks it had felt like every single thing was another reminder of your loneliness. You wanted desperately to fix your situation, but had no clue where to even begin. Until an irritated Cassandra hatched a devious plan, that is.

You weren’t privy to the specific details of her scheme, and could only guess as to her motivations (presumably being annoyed by Daniela’s sulking). All you really knew was that one moment you were following the middle child, supposedly to assist her with organizing something, and the next you were being shoved in an unfamiliar room. Inside, Bela was trying to stall Daniela, making up a ridiculous excuse for her to be there. As soon as you entered, the eldest daughter made a beeline (flyline?) towards the exit. Before either you or your girlfriend could process what was happening, the door had been shut and locked, trapping the two of you within.

“What the fuck?” Daniela asked, temporarily ignoring you in favor of pounding on the door. It didn’t budge, unsurprisingly, but someone outside did yell in response. Not that you could make out what the muffled voice was saying. “Ugh, I swear I am going to kill them for this.” Unable to get out, she finally turns to look at you. In an instant the anger drains from her face, replaced with a bittersweet smile. There’s enough tension in the room to weigh the corners of your lips down. It’s getting harder to breathe, and you can’t quite look Daniela in the eyes. “Hey. Hey, c’mon, if they’re going to be assholes, we might as well make the most of it, right?” She asked, voice a million times softer than you would have expected, considering your previous conversation. With that she moves to sit down, gesturing for you to join her.

“Mmm?” You ‘say’, really just making a confused humming sound. For once, you do want to talk. More than any other time you’ve wanted to. But your tongue was caught in the bear trap your teeth represented, preventing almost any sound from escaping. Still, this is a side of Daniela that you do not often see, with how prideful she tended to be. All it takes to get you to move is for her to pat the spot next to her. Then you’re shifting, blushing hard as you lower yourself onto the couch. Not quite ready to meet her gaze, you stare at your thumbs, twiddling them like an anxious child.

“Bela seems to think that I’ve made a fool of myself in front of you,” Daniela mused, more to herself than to you. One of her hands slides towards you, however, eagerly intertwining her fingers with your own. After two whole weeks of isolation… it’s an amazing feeling. “I said something stupid. It’s been driving me mad, and I have no clue what to do about it. Fuck-” she flinches as she speaks, eyes clamping shut- “I just want to fix this. I want you to feel good around me. I want you to feel the same way I do. More than anything, I want to be your safe haven.”

Your eyes meet, finally, as warmth floods your chest. Words fail you, as they are wont to do, so you leave them behind. Instead you reach for your stars- the body of your girlfriend, pulling yourself into her arms. Even as tears drip down your cheeks, you are smiling softly, overwhelmed by the embrace. Soon enough you can feel Daniela rubbing soft circles into your back with her fingers. She presses a gentle kiss to the side of your head, enjoying the hug too much to pull back even the slightest bit.

“Is there anything I can do? Anything to make you more comfortable?” She asked, for a moment not even realizing the difficulty you would have with responding. Finally connecting the dots, she changes the position of her arms, ensuring that you could stay in her lap while still being able to gesture with your hands. Instead of replying, your first concern is to gently cup your girlfriend’s cheek. Then you place a kiss on her forehead. “You’re my everything, you know that, right?” Daniela whispered, sounding almost in awe. Suddenly you’re possessed by a rush of courage, clearly bolstered by her affection, and you move without thinking. You lean back in for another kiss, hand moving to the back of her head for stability.

Both of you are smiling now, even as your kiss gets more intense, the two of you pressing against each other as best as you can. One of Daniela’s hands runs itself through your hair, before taking it in a loose grip. All you can think about is how right this feels. Your heart is racing, especially as your girlfriend switches to an open mouth kiss, letting her tongue slide across your lips. It catches you off guard, and you need to pull back to catch the breath she had so eagerly stolen. Even then you swear you can feel her pulse pounding just as hard as yours is.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” Daniela murmured, embarrassed, worried that you had stopped for a very different reason. In response you shake your head a little, then practically smother her face in tiny kisses. She’s giggling at that, grinning, all of her anxiety fading away. Most of yours does too. Everything feels perfect. So much so, in fact, that you feel something you haven’t felt in almost an entire year: The loosening of your jaw muscles. Clarity unstiffens your tongue, making age-old static clear up. Can I…? You wonder, wanting so desperately to use this opportunity as best as you can. After all, who knew when you’d ever be this comfortable within the castle again. Hell, the thought alone makes you more nervous, and you struggle to think of something, anything, to say.

“L-l… Love,” you stuttered, barely getting the syllable out, mouth feeling incredibly dry, mind racing, hating how it sounds because holy shit you haven’t talked in a year and was Daniela going to hate your voice and forget all about what you were saying and ruin the moment or worse was she going to hate you or thoughts thoughts pounding in your head like a hurricane, because because because-......................... Anxiety, above all else, was an asshole. One that had prevented you from hundreds of conversations, and limited a thousand more. Now, moments after finally speaking, your mind is on the brink of a tear-worthy breakdown. But you’ve said your piece, and by God has it been received.

“Yes, absolutely, fuck baby, I love you so much!” Daniela cried, equally overwhelmed, for a far different reason. She’s holding you as close as she can, burying her face in your neck. Likewise you rest yourself against her, letting your eyes drift shut, happy beyond description. There were still things you had to talk about, yes, and you would once more have to rely on your trusty notebook. Daniela had a lot to learn, to understand, but this was a start. More than that, it was the first step after the mending of a broken bone. Everything to come would be far, far easier, a labor of love done fearlessly.

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

“Should we open the door now? Or at least unlock it?... How long does it take two idiots to stop being mad at each other?” Cassandra asked, leaning against the hallway wall. Meanwhile Bela had her ear to the door, straining to hear what was going on within. Sure, she had gone along with her younger sister’s plan, but she hadn’t been entirely convinced that it wouldn’t end in disaster. Then again, so far so good. No yelling, no (loud) crying, just some quiet words from Daniela. Maybe they’re working things out, Bela thought, starting to smile. And then she heard something she’d never forget…

“Yes, absolutely, fuck baby, I love you so much!”

“We are not opening that door,” Bela replied, suddenly, her ears burning red. She didn’t know how things had gone from so quiet to so potentially dirty in such a short amount of time, and she did not care. Without even a hint of an explanation, she turned to leave, desperate to get certain mental images out of her head...

[afriendlyblackhottie]

P*$$Y Fairy

Summary: you and Chris just like to enjoy each other’s company away from LA sometimes. Part 2 of Risk.

Pairings: Chris Evans x black!popstar!reader

Warnings: Smut, fluff, daddy kink, oral sex (female receiving), weed use

Ask 1: um i just found out that chris evans used to smoke weed 😳 but like the sex tho?? 😩😩😩

Ask 2:  how are black!popstar!reader and Chris Evans doing because I loved that one

(A/N: this is like four WIPs combined into one because that second ask really helped me figure out what direction to take the first one in because for some reason I was str.ugg.ling. Apparently all the ideas I had were meant for Chris and black!popstar. Based on P*$$Y Fairy by Jhené Aiko and Positions by Ariana Grande. I also listened to the whole Confessions album while writing this because I don’t care that it came out when I was 11 it’s still so good. Anyway, reblog always 💜 ✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee​ @iam-laiya​ @zaddychris​ @hqneyyincc​ @mariahthelioness29​ @olyvoyl​ @liquorlaughslove​ @harrysthiccthighss @donutloverxo​ @queenoftheworldisdead @whiskey-cokenfanfic​ @night-of-the-living-shred​ @buckyownsmylife @blackmissfrizzle @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression​ (Just tagging people I know that read the last one)

——————————————————————————-

Things were hectic for sure. You had your career and he had his. Yet the romance was still enough to where you got swept up in. You felt like you were living in an old movie. He was always sending you flowers. When you couldn’t see each other he’d send you cute texts like they were love notes.

No one knew about what was going on, though. Sure everyone had fun on Twitter for a few days, but it quickly became yesterday’s news when everyone thought that was it. You’d sworn to secrecy to the point where your friends had no clue who your mystery man was. When anyone would ask you who sent the flowers you’d just shrug. Even on the card he’d sign with his middle name instead of his first.

He wanted to keep you to himself and vice versa. Like you were each other’s dirty little secret. It didn’t matter that everyone saw the chemistry between you. You like sneaking around with him when the both of you were in town. Sometimes even escaping the craziness of LA to just be together.

Like right now. It was stupid maybe. Everyone was bound to be worried because this was last minute and you’d left your phone at home and yet it still sounded like the best idea ever. You’d been so stressed about your newest album when he’d asked you to go away with him. You weren’t going to turn spending the weekend with him down over stressing and arguing with your producers.

As you laid in bed tangled in the sheets beside him it felt so worth it. The polaroid camera you’d picked up flashed as he took another picture of you as you let out another puff of smoke, you giggled throwing your head back making him do another one. “I think this one is my favorite,” he said, looking down at it with a smile on his face.

You raised up letting the sheet fall from around your breasts so you could look at it. “I love it,” you said, resting your chin on his bicep. He kissed your forehead before moving his lips to yours. He pushed you onto your back getting on top of you, tickling you at the same time until you were giggling again.

“Stop!” You tried to push his hands away still laughing as he took the blunt from your hand flipping over so he was beside you.

You rolled over so you were nestled into him. He was letting his hair grow out for a movie. He looked so damn good with that beard and that hair. You kissed his shoulder needing to feel him against your lips. He shivered looking at you before turning his head so you could kiss him.

He grabbed your hips so he could pull you on top of him. The way he was touching you, made your skin prickle. Your breathing heavy from how intense it felt to have him this close. Your head felt overwhelmed from all the sensations yet somehow it was like it wasn’t enough.

You laid on top of him. Enjoying the feeling of his chest moving up and down against yours. You bit your bottom lip feeling like you could fall asleep like this. He kissed your forehead again before peering up at him through heavy lidded eyes.

You don’t know you let out another giggle before kissing him. Were his lips always this soft. Yet his beard scratched against your skin. It felt so warm and inviting. Probably why you deepened it.

He wrapped his arms around your waist as you got better situated to straddled against his abs. He traced patterns into your skin with his fingertips. The soft lightening of the room only making you feel deeper into this haze you were in.

“I love you,” he mumbled.

“Yeah?” You asked him with a lazy smile spreading across your face.

He nodded, sitting up making you sit with your ass against his suddenly growing dick. “Yeah,” he breathed, looking down at your lips before nuzzling your face.

“I love you, too,” you replied, you put your head on his shoulder needing to feel him as close as possible. It never felt like it was enough.

All the flirting you’d done at that interview and this is how you’d ended up a few months later. Heads in the cloud in love. You never wanted to come down. When it was like this, it felt like nothing else even existed.

“Fuck that sounds so pretty,” he said, he smiled against your temple. “You’re so goddamn pretty, Baby. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

You started kissing again except this time he sank you down on his dick. Making you feel so full you thought you might actually explode. He still had the blunt in his hand even as he helped you ride him, through no longer lit.

Your nipples were aching for his lips, but you were too lost to ask him to pay attention of them. His deep breaths tickling your neck yet making you feel more tingly. It was like you couldn’t think anymore. Just feel. Feel how good he always did you.

Combing his soft hair with your fingers. Tugging on the ends every time he went a little too deep. He was already stretching you out so good. It didn’t make sense how deep he got inside of you.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That’s my girl,” he panted. “Yeah you like Daddy’s dick, huh, Y/N?”

You nodded. “Uh huh.”

“You love me?” He asked bouncing you up and down on top of him.

You nodded this whimper coming out of your mouth. Fuck you were getting so close. He was making you feel so good. You don’t think you ever felt like this before.

“Say it,” he demanded, moving you so you had to look in his eyes.

“I love you.” As your pussy clamped around him he forced you up and down his cock. “Fuck,” you cried, “I love you.”

“That’s my girl,” he said grabbing you so he could put you down on your back. He fully put out the blunt in the astray on the nightstand. He climbed back on top of you, spreading your legs out so wide as he started licking your pussy.

You gasped running your hands through his hair. “Fuck,” you repeated quivering as he tongue fucked you. The grip on the back of your thighs so strong as he had them in the air. His beard burning into your thighs.

“Oh, my god- Daddy!” You gasped as another orgasm creeped onto you. He was quick to move up so he could use that time to push into you. Moving his hips so he was deliberately brushing into your spot.

It was already too much. Why did he have to be doing this to you. “So good for me,” he whispered in your ear. “My girl, huh. No one else’s.”

“Never.” You tilted your head back and be took advantage, kissing prepping your throat with kisses. Then wrapping his hand around your throat gently.

“Love you so much,” he said, before finally bathing your tits in attention as if he was reading your mind. His mouth hitting this spot you’d desperately needed to be touched.

“I’m gonna,” you squeaked out like a warning, “I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s okay, Baby,” he panted. “Cum for me. Don’t you ever not cum for me.”

You started to nod when you felt it. Starting deep in your abdomen before spreading with this warmth over your lower half at the same time that this tingle sparked all over. It felt like you could turn inside out. Or like if he wasn’t on top of you, you might float away.

“That’s it.” He smiled lazily taking in how pretty you looked, your mouth open all wide as you squirted just for him. “Fuck,” he hissed as he began to reach that point soon after.

He’d fucked it into you until he couldn’t anymore before slumping on top of you. Drawing his hands around your waist so your back was arched, head buried in the valley between your breasts. You were pretty sure you could stay like this forever.

—————

At some point you had to get back to life. Inspiration seemed to hit you out of nowhere. Everyone thought you were crazy when you’d told them you wanted to scrape the album, but you couldn’t let the feeling go. You needed to capture those thoughts in your lyrics.

You didn’t want to admit that a huge chunk of the album was about him. About the things you did together. How he’d hold you down and fuck you just the way you liked. How no one else has ever been able to do you like he does.

He’d left to Boston to film another movie. It was kind of lonely in LA without him. It was crazy. You barely got to spend time with him as is even when you lived in the same city. Yet when he was away you missed him. Even the calls every night weren’t enough.

Which led to you sneaking off to Boston. You could try to keep a low profile. At least until you got to the safety of his home.

He picked you up in his Audi also you guess trying to keep a low profile in his baseball cap and sunglasses. Taking your bags after giving you a quick hug and a kiss hoping no one would notice the two of you. It was getting harder and harder for you to sneak away from everyone, but somehow you managed.

Dodger greeted you as you walked through the door. You got down to pet him while Chris went to set your things in his room. When he came back he pulled you into another hug, savoring this one.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said kissing you all sweetly. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” you sighed into him.

After washing the flight off of you and changing into something comfortable. The two of you enjoyed glasses of wine over the pad thai you’d ordered since neither one of you felt like cooking. You talked about finally maybe going public soon. About not wanting to hide it anymore.

You poured another glass of wine as he started kissing down your neck, pressing your stomach into the kitchen counter. He was so hard against you. He’d made you take him right there. First from behind and then turning you around so he could fuck you while you were sitting on top of it.

You scratched at his back as he carried you to the living room, bending you over again over the back of the couch. Somehow that led to you riding him on the stairs. Each time he’d made you cum so good yet still held on.

Finally he’d led you to his bedroom where he fucked you all night. Made you call him Daddy while he was deep in your stomach. Alternating between the intensity of his thrusts or pulling out to put you in all these positions so he could hold out longer.

When it was time for him to finally fill you he didn’t hold back. Cumming into you so deep that if you weren’t on birth control you were sure he would have just gotten you pregnant right then. The thought of it only made it so much more intense.

You’d finally fallen asleep all curled into him. Not being able to keep going any longer. He’d left you worn out barely even able to think. He whispered I love you against your skin.

When you woke up the next morning all wrapped up in him, both of your phones were loud going off. The buzzing noises against the wood of the nightstand made you jump. “What the fuck,” you groaned sleepily as you reached behind you to grab your iPhone. “Hello?” You asked with your voice feeling like it was all worn out.

“Y/N, where the hell are you?” Your agent asked. “And do not lie to me.”

“What?” You asked looking over to see Chris looking at his phone.

“Oh shit...”

“What?” You asked him.

“You’re with him right now?” Your agent asked and you groaned.

You wrinkled your nose as she kept talking because your brain kind of wasn’t turned on yet. “I’ll call you back.”

“Do not ha-“

But it was too late. Chris held out his phone showing you whatever was on his screen. “I’m not gonna lie I have no idea what’s going on right now,” you said putting your face into shoulder.

“Babe, they fucking got a picture of us,” he finally said.

“What?”

“Mhm. At the airport yesterday. Even got a good one of us kissing.”

You groaned. “Wow, we suck at disguising ourselves.”

He laughed bringing you close to him so you could lay on his chest. “I know.” He kissed the side of your head. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good.” You yawned into him. Your phone was still going off, but you just wanted to sleep.

“So I take it your team isn’t really happy that you’re here with me?” He asked.

You shrugged. “To be honest I don’t know if I actually care to even find out.”

He chuckled. “Good. Maybe this was a good thing?”

“Mhm. Now we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” You sighed contently. “I bet Twitter is having fun.”

“Oh definitely.” He laughed.

“I think you broke me,” you told him. Your legs felt all stiff and sore. Liked you’d just come back from a workout.

He placed more kisses on your face. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

“Why so you can break me some more.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Who do you think is going to be the most mad at us for this?”

“Hating ass people on Twitter,” you said with a chuckle. “Who will also be the happiest. I can imagine all the comments now.”

He laughed. “Oh, we’re definitely going to be reading them over breakfast.” He started rubbing your back trying to soothe you back to sleep even as you whispered to each other. You could worry about the outside world later. For right now you wanted to enjoy the cloud the two of you were alone on.

As he laid there, he promised himself that things would be different with you. That no matter what happened he’d stick beside you. Because as Chris looked down at you, your eyes closed all nestled into him he realized he didn’t want anyone else. You were it for him. And it didn’t matter what Twitter or your teams had to say. He didn’t care how crazy life got or how busy the both of you were. Now that he had you, he wasn’t letting go.