#gonna go ahead and take my panic attack meds

[thezombieprostitute]

Not a good day. 9 AM and already not a good day.

[sixhours]

Chapter 11 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

You’re napping on your cot in the clinic when the walkie at your belt scratches out your name. You rub your eyes, fumbling for the switch.

“Here,” you mutter, sitting up.

“Got a situation, patroller with a busted leg,” someone says.

“Okay, bring them in.”

“Gonna need to make a house call, doc. Meet us at the east gate.”

“Copy that. Out.”

Shit.

Patrol was rough and sometimes things went sideways–Theresa told you as much–but you’ve never had to leave the settlement before. You pick up the med kit, double-check to make sure you have everything you need, and grab your down jacket.

There are two men on horseback waiting for you. You know one is Eliot, and the other…is Joel.

Well, this will be interesting.

Joel gives you a barely perceptible nod. “She can ride with me.”

You raise an eyebrow at the too-easy double entendre, and you swear you see the hint of a smirk before his face drops back into a gruff mask and he puts out a hand to help you up. You can’t ignore the flush of heat that courses through you at his touch, an embarrassing Pavlovian response. You know what those hands are capable of, and you remember all too well where they were last night. You wonder, in a flash of helpless depravity, if you could still smell your slick on his fingers. It doesn’t help that you’re forced to press your whole damn body against his back just to stay on the horse.

Fuck, this is going to be a day.

“You know how to use this?” he asks over his shoulder, holding up a pistol.

“I might.”

He scoffs as you take the gun, check the safety, then tuck it into the back of your jeans.

“Shouldn’t need it, but y’never know,” he says.

When the gates close with a thud , you feel your chest constrict. You’ve lived within the safety of Jackson’s walls for months, too used to its creature comforts. You tighten your grip slightly around Joel’s waist as he nudges the horse to a fast trot, Eliot riding ahead. Your ass is already starting to hurt.

“How far out?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light.

“Couple hours’ ride; we’re camped at the southeastern outpost.”

“What happened?”

“Allan’s horse got spooked and threw her.”

“...Theresa Allan?”

There’s a pause. “Yeah.”

“You said it was a break?”

“Uh-huh. Bone went through the skin…can’t move her until it’s set and splinted.”

“Shit.”

You shift in the saddle, trying to take some pressure off your tailbone, your thighs already aching from the effort of keeping your balance. Joel seems to notice.

“Woulda thought you’d have experience on horseback, comin’ from Nebraska.”

“I’m not from Nebraska. I grew up in New York. I was a city kid.”

“So…how’d you end up at the Omaha QZ?”

“It’s a long and uninteresting story.”

“We got time.”

You let out a deep sigh.

“Alright. I was finishing my residency at a hospital in Maine when the outbreak happened. Managed to get out alive with a…group.

“We protected each other. My medical experience was useful, so I guess I had more luck than some. Just happened to land in Omaha at some point, and that was home…until it wasn’t.”

In your defense, this is all true, save for the destination and the fact that the “group” in question was FEDRA. Your story is the same as countless others, and it comes so naturally, it doesn’t feel like lying…not exactly.

“You were right about the uninteresting part,” Joel says dryly, but there’s a teasing lilt in his voice. “I’m fallin’ asleep over here.”

You clamp down on a smirk, kicking the back of his leg with your boot.

“Asshole.”

~*~

Theresa is ashen and shivering under a moth-eaten wool blanket when you finally arrive at the outpost, which is little more than a shack in the woods. She greets you with a shaky smile through gritted teeth.

“Hey, babe. Fancy…meeting you…here.”

You wince in sympathy. “Can I take a look?”

She nods, teeth clattering as you pull back the blanket and a blood-soaked bandage to reveal the fracture, the jagged white shard of her tibia poking through the skin of her lower leg. You remember trailing kisses up that leg, her thigh, the taste of her on your tongue, and you have to stop yourself from going further with the thought. 

“Alright. Let’s get you fixed up,” you murmur.

You set your med kit on the floor and kneel, pulling out gauze, alcohol, wrapping, and a tiny bottle of precious painkillers. You hand her three of the small white pills and a canteen. “Take these. They might take the edge off.”

“Might,” Theresa snorts, but she swallows the pills with a gulp of water.

You kneel beside her, taking her hand, giving it a squeeze. “This is going to hurt like a motherfucker.”

“Wow, don’t hold back or anything,” she huffs. “Can…we get it…over with?”

“Give the pills a chance to work. I’ll be right back.”

Joel is waiting for you outside. “I’m going to need someone to help me hold her while I set and wrap the break, and someone to keep an eye on her vitals.”

“We’ve got four. Two on watch, two with you. Eliot’s got field medic training, he can handle the nurse stuff.”

You nod.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice suddenly low.

“Fine,” you reply automatically. Indeed, you’re not looking forward to the next part, but it comes with the territory.

He considers this, then nods. “I’ll hold her.”

~*~

It’s as bloody and painful as you expect. Theresa's screams are barely muffled by the belt strap in her mouth, but eventually, you’re able to get the bone back into place. The sun is setting by the time you’ve finished bandaging, wrapping, and splinting the leg. Your hands, jacket, and jeans are splattered in Theresa’s blood, and Eliot brings in snow and melts it over a camp stove to help you wash up.

Theresa is conscious, resting, covered by the wool blanket. Her blood pressure stabilizes and the painkillers are doing their work. Small favors.

Joel waits at the threshold, arms crossed. “We’ve got a sled fashioned up to take her out, but I don’t wanna risk it in the dark.”

You wince. It’s going to be a slow and painful journey back to Jackson.

He leans in, hand coming to rest lightly on your forearm. You’re glad for long sleeves that hide the sudden rash of goosebumps that pop up at his touch, the low timbre of his voice sending a pleasant shiver through you.

“Sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, giving him a tired smile to prove it. He studies your face, then nods slowly.

“Alright. Make yourself comfortable, we’ll ride out when it’s light. Be outside if you need anything.”

Then he ducks out in a whirl of cold air.

You roll out a spare sleeping bag and wrap yourself in your bloody jacket, easing yourself down onto the floor next to Theresa. Your fingers find the pulse point at her throat and she stirs, eyes opening to you.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, making a mental note of her heart rate.

“Like shit,” she croaks.

“Meds might make you nauseous. Think you can eat?”

She shakes her head, making a face.

“Water, then,” you say, picking up the canteen and putting it to her lips. She takes a few slow sips and swallows, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. This seems to sap all her remaining strength, and her eyes close, fluttering shut.

You think she’s asleep, but then she speaks again, voice rough.

“So…you and Joel.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she cuts in, blinking at you with drugged eyes. “Don’t even try, babe.”

You huff a sigh, and close your eyes. “Thea–”

“I care…about you,” she says, struggling to keep her eyes on you. “You know that…right?”

The sentiment is so foreign, so unexpected, your mouth goes dry and you cough to cover your surprise.

“You’re on drugs,” you remind her dryly.

“Good ones,” she agrees. “But I know…what I see.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, even though you’re not sure you want the answer.

She grins then, a brilliant and wry smile that reminds you why you found her so attractive in the first place.

“You’re…alike, you and him.”

“I’m ‘lethal?’” you scoff. “Isn’t that how you put it?”

“Untouchable.”

The word hangs in the open air like a warning shot.

“Look, Thea, don’t…don’t tell anyone, okay? It’s not serious, and his kid doesn’t know. Would make it awkward if–”

“Secret’s safe with me,” she mumbles. “But I meant it…what I said before. Be careful.”

~*~

You’re jolted awake from a cold and troubled sleep by the sound of gunfire.

“Shit,” you breathe, reaching for the pistol at your back. Theresa is awake, too, looking at you with wide eyes.

“What’s–”

“Shh.”

There’s yelling in the distance. You creep on all fours to one wall. There are no windows, just a boarded-up hole through which you can see slivers of moonlight. You try to peek through the slats but all you see are the shadows of trees on snow.

Where the fuck are the guards?

More shouting, sounding further away, and then…shuffling. A croak that is far too close for comfort.

Your finger flicks off the pistol’s safety and you turn to Theresa, putting a finger to your lips. You put your ear to the wall, trying to pinpoint the sound’s location, when a loud thud lands on the door.

Theresa lets out a startled shriek, and you whirl around, ready to tell her to shut up, but then the door begins to crack and splinter as the infected throws itself against it, pounding and pounding until the sound drowns out Theresa’s whimpering and the infernal racket of your heart between your ears.

You get to one knee and bring the pistol up, holding it steady with both hands, trying to slow your breath.

In. Out. In. Out.

The hinges give a rusty scream as they’re wrenched off the frame and the infected breaches the door.

You take the shot.

It goes wide, but it draws the creature’s attention. Its gaping maw hisses and croaks at you, and when it lurches in your direction, you fire one more bullet into the center of its bulbous forehead. It drops like a stone.

A shadow appears in the doorway, and you aim for the head, finger steady on the trigger.

It’s Joel, wide-eyed, breathing hard. He raises his hands. “Fuck–”

You don’t lower the gun; your muscles are trembling, locked in place by adrenaline and fear. You’re still seeing the infected in front of you, coming straight at you, mouth open and ready to feed.

In. Out.

Another moment passes. You feel your finger ease up, feel yourself standing slowly. Joel switches between watching you with concern and glancing at the gnarled body on the floor.

“Are there more?” you bark, not ready to give up the gun just yet.

Joel shakes his head slowly, hands still raised like you might change your mind and shoot him after all.

“Where the fuck were you?” you hiss, finally tucking the gun back into your jeans.

“Eliot and Ashbury had one to the south, I was watchin’ their six,” he says, looking down at the infected corpse. “Seems like you had it covered, though.”

The walkie on his belt squawks, Eliot’s voice staticky over the airwaves. “Joel, you there?”

“M’here. Found one up by the cabin…we took care of it,” he says, looking pointedly at you. “Clear.”

He steps outside to continue the conversation, although now that the door is gone, there’s not much point. You turn to look at Theresa, who has pushed herself to a half-sitting position against the nearest wall, pale and shaking.

It was already freezing in the shack, and now the wind coming through the open doorway makes it unbearable. The sweat that beaded on your skin in the heat of the moment has cooled, making you feel damp and slimy beneath your coat. You grab one of the scratchy wool blankets and look for some way to secure it to the door frame.

“That was…f-f-fucking impres-s-sive,” Theresa chatters, watching as you move about the shack, looking for a spare nail, a piece of wood, anything to pin the blanket up. “If it weren’t so…fucking c-c-cold in here I’d…b-b-be turned on.”

“It was,” Joel says. You hadn’t noticed he’d re-entered the cabin, but now he’s standing there, still watching you with something like trepidation. “Impressive, I mean.”

You shoot him a look. “Help me get this up. We need to get this place warm.”

~*~

It’s only a couple of hours until dawn, but the time crawls by in a bitter-cold haze. Joel drags the infected corpse into the woods and you manage to get the door covered. You spend the rest of the time curled up against Theresa’s good side under the blanket, trying to conserve body heat.

It’s a welcome relief to be up on the horse, arms anchored firmly around Joel’s waist and heading back to Jackson in the early morning light. Eliot and his patrol partner’s horses are hooked to the makeshift sleigh upon which Theresa is bundled, while Ashbury rides ahead as a scout. You gave Theresa another pain pill before you set off, but you suspect it’s not doing much good with all the jostling on the frozen, pock-marked ground.

It’s been an hour of this lurching, plodding cadence when Joel’s voice drifts over his shoulder. 

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“Picked it up while I was out there, I guess.”

You feel him shift against you, leaning back slightly. Even sweaty and bloody and in pain, his proximity is unnerving. The constant pressure of the saddle rolling between your legs doesn’t help.

“Looked like a FEDRA thing.”

“That so?” you say, trying to sound disinterested.

“Hell of a shot, though,” he says when you don’t elaborate. “For a ‘city kid.’”

“Mmm. Got lucky,” you sigh, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades, smelling the warm leather of his jacket. You’re so tired you could fall asleep right now, sore ass be damned.

“Right,” he says, drawing out the word sarcastically. “Well, remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Doesn’t feel so good on the other end of the barrel, does it, Miller?”

He gives a soft, knowing chuckle. “No, I s’pose it don’t.”

~*~

You finally ride into Jackson, exhausted and bruised and desperate for a shower. Theresa is set up at home with one of the clinic nurses as a caregiver, and you promise to check on her the next morning.

Joel disappears without a word as soon as you dismount, trotting off toward the stables. You’re too tired to worry about his suspicious questioning, although in the back of your mind, you know you should be.

When you finally make it home, you don’t have the energy to do more than stumble upstairs and fall into bed fully clothed, still bloody and sweaty. The shower will have to wait.

~*~

A feather-light touch draws itself down your cheek, and you startle awake in the semi-dark, pushing yourself up and reaching for the knife you keep tucked between the mattress and box spring.

“Whoa, s’just me,” Joel says. “Don’t shoot.”

You blink up at him, confused. “What–how did you–”

“Door was open.”

Shit.

In your exhaustion, you’d forgotten to set the lock. Christ, being in Jackson has made you stupid.

You realize his hand is still resting on your cheek, and you sit up abruptly to break the contact. 

“What is it? Is Thea alright?”

“She’s fine. Checked in on her before I came over. Just…wanted to see you.”

He leans in, capturing your lips with his, tongue sliding against yours in a sweet erotic dance, and you moan softly, instantly wet. After a full day of being so close, so fucking close without being able to touch him, to feel his lips on your sensitive skin, you’re like a woman starved.

You pull back with great difficulty, breathing hard. “I need a shower. I’m filthy.”

“Yeah y’are,” he growls, nipping at your ear, sending a hot shiver of delight straight to your core. But then he stands, reaches out a hand, and you take it.

The water feels amazing when it hits your skin, washing off the remains of Theresa’s blood, the dried sweat, soothing the ache in your muscles. He holds you under the stream of rushing water as his hands run the soap up and down your back, and he kisses you and bites at your neck until your legs threaten to give out. When he grabs your ass and presses you to him, nudging his cock between your thighs just out of reach of where you need it, you groan in frustration. 

“Not in the shower, Miller.”

“M’not that stupid,” he says, but you’re not convinced. He leans back but only slightly, forehead pressed to yours, panting through gritted teeth. “God, the things you do to me. Wanted you that whole time, out there. Wanted you to…to–”

“Show me,” you murmur, reaching behind you to shut off the water, not caring that your body is still slick with soap.

You’re going to need another shower after this, anyway.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2015 Might not finish this entry today, but to get started… I began to panic when Tom started to take off by himself to go to Walmart, so I stopped him and went with him. I guess I felt it was too soon to be left alone after Friday’s attack.

So we went out and didn’t have any close calls on the road like yesterday when some bitch in a Mercedes pulled out in front of us. Luxury cars are great at stopping fast, even at 12 years old.

I got Click My Hyperpink Megalast lipstick by Wet-n-Wild and it’s definitely hard to get off just like that girl said. It looks great, and lasts long, but is a bit dry and stiff, so I have to go over it with lip balm. I hate my lips overall, though. Too narrow, too thin.

Meanwhile, the first toilet is installed! It took almost 2.5 hours, and I didn’t even panic when he left me alone to go get longer hoses after I TOLD him 12” would be too short since these are taller toilets. Sometimes his wife really does know best.

Lifting toilets that weigh nearly as much as I do isn’t easy, but yes, I’m doing nearly as much work as he is. It definitely takes longer to pull the old one out than to get the new one in. The hardest part is setting the new one down because you don’t want to disturb the wax ring or the silicone along the base, yet you also want to set it down straight. We’re about to install the master bath toilet, so more details to come later!

Later…

Both our 32-year-old giant toilets that flushed super slow and took forever to fill are now gone. History!

I assisted with gathering tools as he needed them… Allen wrenches, crescent wrenches and a hacksaw to try to cut through the rotted bolt holding the tank to the toilet, but it just wouldn’t let go. He had to carry out both toilets as a whole using a dolly.

I thought it would stink like hell when the hole in the floor was opened but it didn’t. Actually, the silicone he applied around the base of the toilet stunk more.

They also don’t flush when you stand up like I thought they did. You have to wave your hand within 3 inches of a button on the side of the tank. It has 4 AA batteries and should last at least a year. The button has a blue light when it’s activated that glows red when the batteries get weak, and a small gray knob to do a manual flush. What’s amazing is how FAST they flush! The old ones flushed slower than I’d ever seen any other toilet flush. Even Andy said he’d never seen a toilet flush like that when he visited nearly a year ago. It took so long that sometimes it had to be flushed twice just to get the toilet paper down. These flush in just two seconds and fill up much faster. They don’t flush any louder than regular toilets, as Andy asked. Toilets only flush super loud when there’s no tank, like in public bathrooms.

I like that you have to wave the button to flush it rather than have it flush when you stand up because then every time we went near it the thing would flush.

I’ll go ahead and post this tonight, but pictures and other details have to wait. We’re just so beat. He’s already gone to bed.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 30, 2015 Very long, busy day, so I’m gonna update as quickly as I can as I’m getting a bit tired.

Had blood drawn yesterday and the nice Asian guy had to use a butterfly needle on my tiny veins. Wondering if skipping my meds last Sunday is going to really affect the numbers all that much or not. I hope not, or else I’ll have to explain that I skipped that day, but will probably just say I “forgot.”

I totally dread seeing her next Tuesday! What has to be said in person that can’t be said online or over the phone? I want to go back to 75 for now and that’s that. End of story. I like the woman, she’s fairly attractive for her age, she’s intelligent, but she also has a very commanding and somewhat intimidating personality. I know my body. Again, she may be the expert, but I know what’s normal for me to feel and what’s not, and I know I feel like shit on anything over 75. I’ll just tell her this and that I can always try 88’s again later on and see what happens, and hope she’ll be willing to consider how I feel and not her numbers (not that 10.61 was that bad anyway) and hope she’ll leave it at that. Some doctors have an all-or-nothing attitude where you either do as they say, or they won’t see you. I’m not refusing the meds altogether; I just can’t stay on a dose that makes me feel like I’m gonna die on and off. I just really hope I’m not going to have the hassle of having to find a new endo, even if one that’s closer would be convenient.

Either way, it’s been an overall good day health-wise. I felt a little questionable a couple of times where I thought my heart was going to race and as if it was thumping a little too hard, but nothing serious. It was probably just because I was standing out in the bright sunlight for a while and was dressed a bit warmly. My pulse was a little over 100 today like it was the day before yesterday. During the medication attack, it probably shot up to 140.

We first went treasure hunting at Goodwill. I got a small cute doll and a cat figurine for less than 2 bucks. He browsed the electronics, as usual, but didn’t find anything interesting.

Then we hit Carl’s Jr. I loved the girl’s lipstick that took our order, though that particular color would probably look like shit on me. It was very vivid and even and she said it doesn’t wipe off. It’s Wet-n-Wild’s Megalast. Looked it up on Amazon. Kinda like Pinkerbell.

Anyway, we got two deluxe motion-censored toilets with easy-to-clean bases that oughta be way cool. They’re American Standards and they’re supposed to have great flushing power because of the size of the hole that fills the tanks faster and all that. The only thing that sucked was that sure enough, a piece on the tank was broken and we had to return it. They were kind enough to switch it out for us, rather than tell us to return it for a full refund like Home Depot did, and then buy all-new ones.

We were going to get basic toilets for $100 each, but then realized it’s not like we do this every year or even every few years, so we might as well go all out. It’s going to cost close to $500 after the rebates, but should be well worth it for the 12-30 years we may be using them for. Wish us luck with tomorrow’s installation!

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 29, 2015 I have both great and shitty news. The great news is that my wonderful endo messaged me online to inform me that my thyroid numbers are now perfect. Perfect! My TSH is 3.71 and my T4 is 1.3.

She also let me know that they would retest me to check for accumulation but that she has labs ordered anytime I need them before our scheduled December test/appointment. Lastly, if my symptoms worsen, go to the lab and come see her sooner.

Well, yesterday I had mild tightness in the lungs and mild anxiety, but today’s the day it really got me, booming heart and all. As always, I was batshit terrified. No wonder I thought I was going to die the first time I experienced this and didn’t know why. It is the most scariest and miserable feeling I have ever experienced. I would rather have the worst period cramps in the world, puke my guts out, gain 50 pounds, and have all my teeth pulled at once.

I felt anxiety well up within me, then I felt warm and my heart started racing/booming, along with the other symptoms of lung tightness, the runs, low appetite, a little weight loss (despite not watching my calories or working out the last few days) and jitteriness. My legs felt like rubber and I could barely type the message I sent to my doc or Skype Tom.

I’m now virtually certain that the tightness is not something in the air and the IF diet isn’t what triggered my anxiety. I’m also sure there’s no way I can continue on this dose, perfect numbers or not. I’m going to have to dive back to 75s and try again in six months to a year or so. Sometimes the second time’s the charm for me. It was with the 75s and with endo docs, after all. I swear the more I learn from her, the more I realize just how much information my old doctor withheld from me.

I won’t be able to get in to see my doctor until November 3, but I am going to the lab today when Tom gets home from work. I was so terrified earlier that I almost had him come home. I’m surprised I started feeling better as fast as I did because it usually takes time to recover from this sort of thing, but this time around I was armed with lorazepam and a doctor who actually gives a shit. I didn’t have to resort to the beta-blocker, though.

I don’t know if it was caused by a pocket flare within the gland or what, but I just know I don’t ever want to go through this shit again. But it seems I do whenever my numbers dip below 8 or so. I would still rather be a little hypo than suffer. I respect the fact that the doctor thinks this is the right dose for me, and while it might be the right dose number-wise, it’s not the right dose for how I feel. I could kick myself for agreeing to go to the 88s when I had been feeling so good on the 75s. Again, maybe we’ll try again in the future.

Will write more later when I’m not as busy and not as rattled.

Later…

Doing another entry now because I expect to be busy over the next few days. We’re going to be picking up the toilets tomorrow and installing them on Saturday, and NaNoWriMo starts on Sunday. Still feeling stable after this morning’s terrifying scare, but worried it’ll get me again at any moment. It’s random and unpredictable.

Here’s a health update on Tom. He went to his doctor yesterday and he got right in in no time at all. As he said, he’s Middle Eastern so no one wants to see him. Female doctors are definitely way more sought out the male doctors, especially American ones because nobody wants to deal with the funky accents of foreigners that can be very hard to understand. As for me… while I do prefer females, as long as I can understand them and they know what they’re doing, any color or race will do.

His blood pressure is up even more so his doctor doubled the dose of this medication. This medication (I forget the name of it but it’s a very standard drug) doesn’t make him cough nearly as much as the stuff he was on before. It’s a diuretic so it should help the swelling in his feet.

I asked him why he has high blood pressure and he told me it’s because he has a family history of it, is obese, and isn’t getting enough exercise. He sits at the computer all day at work and then he works such long hours that when he finally gets home he has no energy left for working out. He just wants to eat, watch his show, and go to bed.

He’s determined to change this and lose 30 pounds before the trip. I’m the last one who would ever condemn, pick on, or discriminate against heavy people. Some people truly can’t help it, especially if they’re older or have certain medical conditions. But I’m all for him taking steps to a healthier him. Now that I know the IF diet wasn’t causing my anxiety (I figured as much) I may even eventually lose 20-30 pounds if I can, just not right now. One thing at a time. First I have to get my medication regulated so I don’t have the “heart attacks” from hell. It’s not as critical for me anyway because I’m just overweight whereas he’s obese.

He’s going to work on getting his passport next month, and next month we should definitely have vacation dates.

Marie happened to catch me on Facebook yesterday, which I use more for messaging than anything else, and she was going crazy due to her situation. I figured it was girl problems. I’m just glad I was there for her because she’s been there for me in the past. I guess Lori gets a little touchy-feely with men and she doesn’t exactly like it. I told her that no relationship is perfect so if she’s just flirting and not actually acting on any of her attractions/fantasies – which we all have – then I wouldn’t call it quits. As she said, Lori is really sweet otherwise. Besides, she’s not getting any younger, and she herself said she doesn’t want to die alone.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 28, 2015 Not much to say today. Tom’s got an appointment with his PCP and I’m still waiting for my thyroid numbers to be posted online.

Still doing my experiment too, to try to isolate the main cause of what was making me anxious. At this point, I’m still leaning toward the dosage increase, regardless of what the numbers may say, but will know for sure around mid-November. I’m skipping Sundays for 3 weeks, then I’ll go back to 88s every day. I want to see if it backs off by skipping (and so far it has), then returns when I’m on 88s daily. The IF diet may still have had a hand in it, but probably not much of one.

My lung tightness was minimal yesterday and I made sure I didn’t burn any incense. As Tom said, all it takes is one new ingredient I may be allergic to to have a negative effect on me. As much as I’ll miss it, once what I’ve got left is burned up, that’s it. No more. I don’t want it staining our beautiful new chandelier or other things. Smoke is smoke be it from cigarettes, incense or something else. I’ll still have the wax warmers.

I finally mapped out basic plots to 5 short stories for NaNoWriMo in which each story will be about 10K words.

Also, I finished categorizing thousands of pictures I’ve saved from around the web and am arranging boards on Pinterest. Then I’ll back up to Facebook and Amazon’s cloud.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 2015 Got through yesterday without tightness or anxiety. Today I feel a bit tight, though, and again I’m not sure what to make of it. I just hope it’s something in the air that will pass soon enough and isn’t connected to my medication. It’s supposed to be cloudy today and rainy tomorrow. Hopefully, it really will rain and that will cleanse the air a bit.

Today I have been keeping a journal for 28 years! Not bad, huh?

I dreamed I was in jail (I don’t know why) and went off on one of the guards for some reason. She had been yelling at me and I shouted back about doing the best I could or something like that. Then I wrote a letter to Tammy.

Then I was watching TV somewhere and a news report said some woman who shot someone in self-defense wouldn’t be charged as she was left to pick up all her scattered possessions in some field somewhere.

Then I got a text message or voice message from Paula to which I replied by asking her if she’d be ok with spending just a couple of days out here and not half a month. I doubt I’ll ever hear from her again, though, and personally, I don’t want to any more than I want to hear from Nane. I looked in on Nane's latest travel pics in real life and she still looks good, but the longer I go without hearing from her, the less I miss her. She was just too judgmental. People that bash fatties, then bash you for bashing violent groups of people is no one I wish to associate with.

In another dream, Tom had brought some bottles in to be recycled and he complained that loud music was blaring all around him every time he did. We were standing by the car as he told me this and I looked up and found an umbrella floating high above the car that was tied to the back bumper like a helium balloon.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 26, 2015 Going about my business while embracing myself for the inevitable storm to come. Sooner or later the anxiety will bite, my lungs will tighten up, and on top of that, I’m sure someone around here will annoy the shit out of me with their noise. If the tightness is due to something in the air, though, as Tom suspects, then why is this the first fall that I’ve experienced it?

I’m trying to think positive and hope for the best as hard as it is. I’m doing a test where I skip my meds every Sunday for 3 weeks. This will put me back down around 75 mcg. If the anxiety subsides, then it was likely that 88s were just a bit much for me. I will then ask my doctor to put me back down to 75 and try again at a later date to do the 88s. Sometimes the second time around works out. It did with the 75s. Meanwhile, my lab numbers should be posted soon too, but regardless of with they may say, it’s how I feel that counts.

I felt well during most of yesterday and became a bit anxious and tight toward the end of my day at which time I took a lorazepam.

We ate at Denny’s and went to Walgreens afterward. There I found a dual Chapstick, something I’ve never seen before. One side is banana and the other is strawberry.

For just a couple of bucks each, I got body mist in a pink glitter bottle and one in a purple glitter bottle. The bottles look nicer than the sugarplum and strawberry scents smell. It’s like the smell has been watered down or something. It barely smells.

Got a headband with clear gems and a similar-looking barrette wide enough to gather my thick hair. It’s not as thick as it used to be, but it’s still kinda thick.

Got pink glitter duck tape that was to be strung across metal bands we were going to string across the couch and dresser legs to keep Roomba from getting stuck under there, but then Tom read that all we have to do is just glue little knobs on top of it. So now I have all this beautiful tape, but nothing to tape, LOL.

After we came back home we took the bikes out and it was after that that I started to feel bad. So just maybe there is something out there. We’re skipping our morning ride today. I’ll hit the treadmill instead.

We decided that rather than get taller oval toilets with an overflow system, we’d just get shorter round toilets like what Jesse had. Our toilets seldom overflow anyway.

I asked Tom if he thought we stood a chance of ever moving to Hawaii and said that I didn’t think we ever would because all we could probably afford was attached living. Well, even if we were all on one floor with concrete foundations where you couldn’t feel the vibration of heavy footsteps, we’d still get the blasting TVs and other things that you don’t hear in houses. Old folks love to blast their TVs, and if there were cabinets along the dividing wall, you’d hear those being closed too. Unless there was a firewall between the units, of course.

I lived in a couple of different 4-story brick buildings back east, a common apartment set up there, and never heard these two sisters whose place ran alongside my kitchen and bedroom. That was because of the brick firewall between us. Meanwhile, I could hear the lady on the other side of me playing the radio that sat on her kitchen counter from two rooms away.

What was funny was the point he made in his response. He said, “I can’t possibly know what the future holds. Had someone once asked me if I’d ever move to Oregon, I’d have said probably not. If someone told me I’d drive a Cadillac someday, I’d have doubted that, too.”

LOL, I’d never have guessed I’d leave New England, learn so many languages, quit smoking, be happily married for so long, share my journal online for all the world to see, or publish books even if I didn’t make shit doing it, etc.

A large boat “crashed” ashore in my dreams last night, though I don’t know what beach I was on. It struck me that that was just how those kinds of boats “docked,” and I watched as people began to trickle off the boat.

Then Tom and I moved into a strange house that was in the shape of a long L. Its long corridors and polished floors suggested it might have once been used as a non-residential building. Tom’s bedroom was at the very end of the long part of the L, toward the left. Mine was further up the hall on the right. I was standing in the doorway of his bedroom where he was trying to sort blankets that were twisted around him in his twin-size bed as he readied himself for sleep. I asked him if he wanted me to close his door, saying I didn’t care if it was left open or not, but I needed to know so I could be sure the rats didn’t wander in there.

Then I ran up the hallway, shoes echoing off the painted brick walls, past my bedroom where my sound machine softly played white noise, and over to the rats’ cage on the left, straight across from the short end of the L in which the kitchen and then the living room were located.

In the last dream, I might have been in a therapist’s office. The woman, whoever she was, told Tom, who sat next to me, that when I called it “home” and not just “where we live,” I would then be in the right place.

The dream therapist then asked me to close my eyes, visualize myself in a nice place, and then describe it to her.

“I’m floating on a cloud,” I said. “Only that cloud is the ocean. I think it’s in Hawaii. There’s so much color all around me. So many pink flowers.”

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 25, 2015 Just when I thought my endo was going to blow me off, especially being a Saturday, I received a message from her confirming the lab for both yesterday as well as the week before I see her in December. So I’m back to loving Doc O again, just not her location, LOL.

As soon as I got the message, we got me to the lab and I not only didn’t have to wait long, but Kylie was my vamp for the second time. She always gets my tiny little veins on the first try.

It turns out she was Doc O’s patient as a kid before Doc O started seeing adults only. She liked her a lot, saying she was the only one that seemed to really care. I agree. I’m just not sure she always gets just how much a dosage increase really does affect my anxiety levels. I know levothyroxine is the same thyroid hormone our bodies are supposed to make anyway, but for some reason, normal or not, an increase seems to be a bit of a shock to my system. The extreme dieting may have had a hand in it, but dieting has never affected me to this degree while this medication has. I’m still leaning towards the medication as the main culprit.

Until it gets close to my next lab check-in, I’ve decided to skip the meds once a week to lower my levels just a teeny bit (this will almost put me back to 75 mcg) until I feel better. The anxiety has been coming and going. I’ll have a day without it and then I’ll feel anxious, and back and forth and back and forth… I’m not going to tell her that I’m skipping, of course.

It was great to be able to grab a bite to eat and have my coffee the instant I got up, just like old times. It sure would be nice to be able to have my coffee as soon as I got up on vacation so we could get going sooner, but I can’t go a whole week without it. I would feel horrible as my body began to crash. This can take months to recover from, too. I passed the point of no return a long time ago. Just a short break from this medication and I feel like shit, gain a million pounds that never comes back off, and retain enough water to solve all our drought problems.

I’m going to have mixed emotions if my numbers turn out okay. If it were the medication, it would be simple enough to adjust the dose. If it’s not, I may wonder if the diet really did screw up everything. I started the IF diet around the 8th of October. It was on the 13th that the anxiety kicked in. Seems a bit long if it was the diet. Shouldn’t I have felt anxious that day or at least the next day? I still think it’s the medication which means that after I’ve had time to adjust I can one day attempt the IF diet again since it works so well. I will probably wait until after our vacation.

Maybe the numbers don’t have to be bad, though, to make me a little anxious. Or maybe I have simply developed an anxiety disorder after last year’s trauma. I just don’t know for sure and not knowing is what makes it frustrating.

Receiving broken toilets is also frustrating. We were going to install them today, but when Tom pulled one out of its box yesterday he noticed it was broken. He called Home Depot and they said they wouldn’t replace it. Instead, he had to bring it in for a full refund and buy another one. Not trusting that the second toilet didn’t have cracks in it, he returned them both for a full refund and on Wednesday he’s going to go to Lowe’s for replacements. Hopefully, we’ll install them on his next three-day weekend.

Last night I had ratty dreams, but don’t remember much about them.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 24, 2015 Bob’s back to being loud and distracting. Yesterday he was hammering something at the lower side of his garage door. The only thing I can guess that’s in that area might be the gutter. My first thought was, great, he’s going to keep me up all day. But I didn’t hear anything when I got into bed. Either the sound machine did a good job of blocking him out or he stopped. Still, how many weeks is this new project going to take? I’m tired of having one of the noisiest people in the park being right next to us. Just totally sick of the computerless, restless outdoor neighbor who never wants to be indoors. The only thing this guy doesn’t have that Jesse had is the motorcycle and mutts.

Sure enough, the doctor didn’t confirm that it would be okay to go to the lab on Saturday, as I asked her to, and if she still wanted me to go to the lab the week before I saw her as originally planned. I'm sorry, but there's no excuse for this and I don't care how many patients she has. This may not be a matter of life or death, but she - or someone - should be able to handle that much. Her not having time to respond to my second to last message, as I was told by the nurse I spoke to, is no excuse either. If she had the time to read it, she could’ve jotted down a quick reply. Her answer didn’t require much thought let alone a novel. I mean what’s the point of the portal if you’re not going to use it?

Maybe the negative feelings I sensed in her the last time around weren’t in my imagination after all. It was nothing she said but just something I sensed like a dog senses fear. It was in her body language and while she may have a bit of a commanding personality no matter what and she might have just been having a bad day, I really think she dislikes me and doesn’t have much tolerance for dealing with anxious people.

She may be knowledgeable and she may be sorry that I was traumatized last year, but could it be time to look for a new endo? I have been considering it regardless because she is just too long of a stressful drive, and the valet parking is a real nightmare.

In last night’s dream, I had just woken up in the late afternoon. I stumbled into the living room with a yawn where half a dozen people stood waiting for me. I muttered something like, “Sorry. Been working graves online. Government project.”

Then I noticed one person was a woman wearing a long fancy gown which I complimented.

Next, I was back in the bedroom where the radio was playing and a new song came on that I liked. As I listened to it I looked at the window before me and noticed that the curtains were fading. Then the bedroom melted away and I was in a pool with some guy and what I assumed was his daughter who was in her late teens or early 20s. The water was cold at first but then it felt nice. Sitting on a nearby lounge was a naked girl of about eight years old. Ignoring the odd sight, I turned back to what was probably her older sister and said, “New curtains are definitely in order for the bedroom.”

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2015 After my last entry, my anxiety picked up to the point that I took a lorazepam, and even my stomach decided to get in on the action. I had the runs. So after having to be redirected FOUR times to endocrinology, I got a hold of a nurse who said the doctor had read my message but hadn’t had a chance to respond as of yet. Hadn’t had a chance? But I left the messages days ago and they usually say just 1-2 business days to get back to you. That’s how it usually is anyway.

When I got up there was a message from Chris saying that the doctor contacted me online and that I didn’t have to call her back. So I picked up the doctor’s message, and she still doesn’t seem to think that the dosage increase is affecting my anxiety, from what I understand, though she says extra labs can be done. At least I think that’s what she’s saying. I asked her to confirm that it would be okay to go Saturday to the lab and if she still wanted me to go to the lab the week before I see her as originally planned.

She also mentioned seeing my PCP. Not sure why, but I already have an appointment scheduled with her for early December.

Regardless, she may be an expert, but I know my body. I’m not saying it’s 100% responsible, but I really believe it’s got a definite hand in it. The timing is just too coincidental. I was right the first time around, so why would I be wrong now? I’m sure worrying about it doesn’t help either, but when they get me close to normal it does seem to affect my anxiety.

But fine. I’ll continue the 88s as she advised, I’ll go to the labs, and we’ll see what the numbers say. Worst case scenario, I can just skip one day a week and that’ll put me back to 75s. If the numbers are too high I’ll just tell her I may occasionally “forget” to take it.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2015 Tom upgraded to Mac’s El Capitan, but I’m still using Yosemite. El Cap just doesn’t seem to have any new and exciting features I really need. What would be nice would be if Firefox wasn’t so damn slow, but since it has more features I need, I’m kind of stuck with it for now.

No anxiety yesterday. My heart did race me awake, though, and today I’m borderline anxious but it’s backing off. Really starting to wonder just what the fuck it is I ever did to deserve this on-and-off suffering I’ve been going through for over a year now. As soon as I think I’m over it for good, back it comes. I’ll give it a few more days and see how I feel. I might call the doctor’s office on Friday or Monday. The wacky diet may have had a big hand in my anxiety, but I can’t rule out the dosage increase yet either. The biggest telltale sign of hyperthyroidism is rapid uncontrollable weight loss, a symptom I haven’t had. Nor have I had a booming heart, the runs, or a decrease in appetite, though my appetite is down a bit and I’m not holding weight as easily as I usually do.

So while it’s unlikely I’ve been flipped from hypo to hyper this doesn’t mean it can’t make me a little anxious. Or can it? That’s what I hope to find out. What’s almost as frustrating as the anxiety itself is not knowing for sure what’s causing it. It’s hard to help ourselves when we don’t know where to begin. Stopping fasting was a start, though. That definitely seems to help. If it is the meds at all, I don’t know if I’ll adapt and the anxiety will eventually go away for good, or if it will still go away if something else is causing it. It’s hard to believe, for whatever reason, that one could suddenly develop an anxiety disorder like this, but things do change with age.

Speaking of doctors, I got a weird message in which all that was said by automated voices was that the call was on behalf of (then they say my name) and that I could press 1 for customer service or call their toll-free number at my convenience. I would normally ignore calls like this but since my name was used, I first wondered if it was connected to whoever’s been using my name and number, according to that guy in Auburn.

But then I looked up the number, which is supposedly the payment center of my medical group, and other people wonder if it’s a scam of some kind. I think it might be because never in the message did they identify themselves, and I don’t know why they would be calling us about money. We either pay in person or online if they don’t send us a bill. I’ll run it by Tom when he gets up and see what he thinks. I only just discovered the message recently. Goes to show how much more I’m online than on phones.

I hope his leg is better when he gets up. He bumped his shin really bad while picking up the second 98-pound toilet. They’re sitting in the laundry room waiting to be installed this weekend with hopefully not too much drama along the way.

Still think it’s kind of weird that no one got back to me regarding my messages about the anxiety. You know I love to spy on people, and she’s been pretty consistent with her Facebook game-playing. Even when she was in New York she was playing games. But this daily habit has ceased to exist lately.

Given that she has only 13 friends, 3 of whom could have 2 accounts and be the same person, I wonder if she’s the loner type when she’s not working or if she’s just not a very well-liked person. Her tone and attitude on the job suggest she may be a real bitch in her everyday life.

I have always been a loner myself and have always enjoyed spending most of my time alone. Not all of it, but most of it. I’m more productive that way. But lately, I wonder if I would feel better and more secure if either Tom was home all the time, or a couple of people lived with us (that we both knew, trusted and felt comfortable with) and someone was always home. I don’t know, though, because sometimes the anxiety kicks in when Tom’s home. His presence certainly helps, but it doesn’t prevent it completely.

Andy's not doing much better either. He’s frustrated because he stopped losing weight, and within less than a 24-hour period, both his refrigerator and his washer crapped out. His washer is fairly new, too. I really feel for him. When we lived in Arizona it seemed that our stuff was constantly breaking. As soon as we fixed something, something else would break.

Not sure if I’m going to be doing this year’s NaNoWriMo because I’m struggling to come up with ideas. I’ve got 10 more days to figure it out if I’m going to.

Still having loads of fun creating boards and pinning pictures on Pinterest, as pointless as it may be. Then again, almost everything we do in life seems pointless at times. It’s just a fun thing, sort of like putting together a puzzle of a picture, only I’m putting together a “puzzle” that consists of many, many pictures.

During the millions of times I woke up, I remember bits and pieces of interesting yet senseless dreams. I was sitting at this weird desk in what almost looked like a giant warehouse. I was working at a computer when I looked up above me and saw several cobwebs and what looked like this strange fungus dangling from the ceiling. I hunted for a vacuum to suck it up with, but couldn’t find a vacuum hose long enough to reach them, or anything stable to stand on.

I know that I also had dreams involving Charlotte and Molly, but I don’t remember much of them. It seems like I might have been walking somewhere when I crossed paths with Charlotte. She kept asking me for a favor but I couldn’t understand a word she was saying.

The Molly dream might have had to do with us writing in paper journals.

I also had a dream that I was out riding my bike and rode by Andy's place. His front door was open and I knew he was hauling groceries in from his car. I stopped when he spotted me and said, “I know you weren’t expecting any company, but since I happened by, need a hand?”

I don’t remember what his answer was, but the most interesting dream was the letter sent from Stacey that she meant to send to someone else. That was the sexy bitch of an apartment manager Andy and I both had to deal with back in the early 90s down in Arizona. The letter contained about five non-digital photos. There was a guy standing by a pool in one where Stacy had written, “My friend Dave.” Then there was a picture showing these battery-operated fish swimming through her pool. Neat idea. :-)

I planned to write her back and ask if she wanted me to send her the letter and pictures back, or if she wanted me to forward them to someone.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 20, 2015 What a shitty night last night ended up being. It was absolutely horrible. After I ate the first time around the anxiety backed off, but then it hit me again and it eventually turned into frustration, which turned into depression. I was literally in tears. Then I took a lorazepam and laid down for about an hour but didn’t sleep. Naturally, I felt better when Tom got up and we discussed it. Both he and Aly think it’s the diet and not my medication.

I have totally stopped the diet altogether because one of us is right and I need to find out who it is so I can fix this. Again, before about a year ago, I never felt these kinds of emotions. I’ve been depressed at times, but I never had this kind of anxiety. I’m also not accustomed to feeling any negative emotions without a damn good reason either, like after losing a pet or something like that. Even when we were dirt poor I didn’t have this degree of anxiety. As I was telling someone recently, I’d rather be broke than go through this. Both are hard to deal with, but being poor was an easier kind of hard. It was more straightforward. There was no mystery to it and you knew that even if it may take time, someday it would end or at least not be so bad. But I’m not 100% sure what’s causing this anxiety and I don’t know if this is something I’m going to suffer with on and off for the rest of my life for what. Today’s been good so far, though.

Let’s just say that extreme diets make me sick or mess me up emotionally, and I have no willpower to stick to the reasonable ones. Alli messed up my stomach and skin, low carb makes me gassy as hell, and IF diets love to play on my moods/emotions. The so-called reasonable ones? They just leave me hungry and moody. A bit sluggish too, for the few days I can stand to actually stick to them.

I didn’t diet yesterday but the day before I did. Also, the day before yesterday I didn’t have any anxiety at all, while I dieted the previous day. So it seems to affect me the day after I diet. If I diet tomorrow then I’m likely to suffer the next day. Not worth it. Not worth it at all.

I’m kind of surprised the doctor never responded to my messages. I’m pretty sure that they’re obligated to respond to them, so I wonder if something’s up with her. Even if there was, why hasn’t any other doctor contacted me? Well, if stopping the diet doesn’t continue to make me feel better, I will call them and ask to go to the lab so they can check my numbers.

The only negative thing I feel today is an achy crown. It does that at times, but it doesn’t feel like it’s loose or anything.

Been using LiveJournal since 2008 and I'm still learning things about it. That number rating I’ve been going by is my all-time rating, not my daily rating. Today I am in the 7286th position while my all-time rating is now up to 12,785. And all because I started answering the daily questions I only recently discovered, LOL.

Yesterday evening was chilly, so I wasn’t out riding for long. I went out for 15 minutes an hour ago, and later I’ll spend 5 minutes strength training various body parts and then hit the treadmill for 10 minutes.

Last night I dreamed we just moved into this place and it was horribly cluttered. Tom went out to run an errand that had to do with something financial. Some financing or payment connected to the place. While he was gone I took the opportunity to try to sort through our stuff. A cat suddenly appeared and I assumed it was Simone. She was rubbing against me affectionately and purring away. I then said, “This time you’re here to stay no matter how much I suffer.” Then it suddenly hit me that Tom was taking an awfully long time to return.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 19, 2015 Didn’t sleep all that well. The traffic decided to wake me up this time around, and then I woke up to pee, and then for no apparent reason at all.

I was a little surprised to find that my endo never got back to me online. They usually get back to me in a day or less, and if they can’t, another doctor does. I had no anxiety at all yesterday but today I was borderline, so I ate earlier than planned. Tom thinks it’s connected to the diet but I don’t know what to think at this point. I’d rather stay fat and feel better if that’s the case, but rather than decide to quit or diet, I’m just going by how I feel day by day. I will say that the anxiety did pass in less than two hours after I ate a frozen dinner of cheesy rice with chicken and broccoli and had some fresh strawberries for dessert. So I got a good balance of carbs and proteins. Maybe my dear hubby is right after all. He is a very smart guy. So I guess it’s either be fat or be anxious. I’ll take the extra cushion, thank you.

My LiveJournal user ratings are now 12,921.

Again I had snippets of very strange dreams. In one I brought my PCP three or four vials of my blood supposedly for future blood tests. She asked why I brought them and I told her I brought them because she asked me to. Then she insisted that she never asked me to bring any such thing.

In another dream, I opened the front door of a house that seemed to be in a remote and mountainous setting. The mountains weren’t as steep or as green as they were when we lived in Auburn, but they gently sloped downward and off into the distance. I couldn’t see any other houses at all and I looked at a particular spot across the street and imagined Alyssa living there. I was thinking of her last night, so maybe that’s why I dreamed of her.

Next, someone was looking for somebody, and as I was telling them where to find them, I mentioned having a crush on them, not knowing that the woman I was talking about was standing right behind me. Who knows how well they took the news, whoever they were, because that dream only lasted a few seconds.

In the last dream, I opened a small box that was filled with bottle caps and Styrofoam peanuts and I wondered why the person(s), whoever they were, kept returning the caps of the bottles I gave/sent them.

I placed the box down and looked around the room I was in. There were about three twin beds side-by-side along one wall and my own twin bed was on the opposite wall facing the other direction. I realized the room was an absolute mess and I demanded that those who slept in the room put all their belongings on their beds because I was about to vacuum the floor.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 18, 2015 Just checking in to the sound of thunder. Earlier it was the faint strains of polka music coming from the clubhouse. Yes, once again we had a live band here (Oktoberfest), and once again I’m thinking about how I came here to escape what I just can’t escape. Someone drove by with loud music a few times yesterday, and today it’s the band. Fortunately, they don’t have live bands playing here as often as they do landscaping and other annoying things. It didn’t last as long as the last band they had.

I decided to try my best once again on the IF diet since I’m probably going to feel anxious at times anyway. Diets have never made me feel anxious. Only this damn evilthyroxine has. It got bad enough last night that I decided that rather than wait and call (and risk the nurse misinterpreting me), I’d leave the doctor a direct message online, and I did. That way it’s in my words and she can tell me directly if she wants me to go to the lab. I’m stable at the moment, but I just never know when it’s going to hit me. It turns itself on and off at random. At some point in the night, I realized I was no longer anxious. It just clicked off light a light switch. Maybe part of that is because I lost myself on Pinterest. I try to do things to distract myself and my mind from dwelling on it when it hits me.

Pinterest has been around a while now, yet last night is when I got really into it for the first time ever. At first it seemed pointless and I didn’t really get how it worked, but it’s a great way to create picture collections. Pics are one of my hobbies, especially nature and animal pics. They have every subject under the sun there to search for, plus I downloaded their tool to allow me to pin pics from all over the web.

Tom printed out a little holder for a thing that can recharge our trash bin’s batteries. This way we don’t have to keep going through batteries. I scold him and tell him he should’ve gotten just a basic pail. We don’t need a motion-censored one. :)

No new toilets this weekend cuz one of them isn’t due to arrive till the 22nd, and he would like to install them both at once. With me helping, of course. :)

Andy got kicked off of Ask and accused of using a bot. Well, not only would he never want to use one there, but he probably couldn’t figure out how to create one any more than I could put a Rubik’s cube together. That’s just not the guy’s thing. So we swapped messages and pics in chat on Facebook till he discovered his account was accessible again and we returned there. Because we sometimes make funny comments/answers, the system probably thought it was a bot cuz it seems like gibberish to outsiders. We’ll randomly grab half a sentence off the web somewhere and the other has to finish it in a goofy, funny way.

Tried Kiwi berries for the first time. They’re ok. Not bad, but not great. Aly recommended golden raisins for lightheadedness caused by low iron, so I put those on next week’s grocery list even though I’m not big on “boogers.”

Last night I had a dream I moved in with this family who had a girl of about 16 or 17. She was so unhappy about my moving in and had other family problems that she ran away. About 5 years went by and I overheard someone talking about finding her to tell her that her father was dying. I was glad the girl had run away because I knew we wouldn’t get along, but I was also worried about her as well.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2015 We got a pretty good thunder and rainstorm late last night at around 2am. It rained a bit today too, and we hurriedly took off on the bikes to go “rain riding.” We were hoping to ride through at least a little drizzle, but sure enough, it cleared up. The roads are all dry now.

Feeling flashes of anxiety again, but I don’t know what to make of it. I’m feeling it more emotionally than physically. My heart isn’t booming or racing up a storm or anything like that. I just feel odd feelings on and off that again, just don’t seem normal for me. I guess it is now, though. It’s hard to describe the feeling and it’s as subtle as it is obvious, but I guess it’s anxiety. It’s just that fleeting feeling of unease, dread or doom. That’s the best I can describe it.

Eating does seem to help, and at first I thought that since I was dumb enough to go riding on an empty stomach, I just needed to eat when we returned and I’d be fine. But I continued to feel it intermittently. It’s hard to believe this is all about food since starting the IF diet, but to find out for sure, I decided to swap eating times. I was to wait until I’d been up 8 hours before I started eating, but then I decided to eat during the first half of my day instead to see if that helped, but it hasn’t made a difference.

I still worry it’s the dosage increase. Coincidently or not, these are the same feelings I had several months ago, though I don’t see how my numbers could’ve been that far off every time I’ve felt this way. All I know is that I never felt this before last year and I sometimes worry that last year’s trauma has given me a whole new and permanent anxiety disorder. I just might not feel anxious every day, though. Tom doesn’t think it’s the meds. He thinks I’m just worried about the meds and that I’ll settle in after another month or so.

The only other symptom I feel at times is tingling in the lips and that’s another symptom of anxiety right there. But WHY? Is it me? My eating habits? The meds? Something else?

I know I’m not in any danger or anything like that, but this isn’t a very pleasant thing to live with, so I really hope it backs off. I’ll message my doc if it doesn’t.

Had a dream I was in an RV or some other large vehicle when we ended up lost at the end of a dead-end road tightly flanked by trees, much like we did when we moved to Oregon. As Tom got out of the RV to check out the best way to get turned around, the RV’s brakes released and started moving backward with me inside of it. Neither of us seemed too alarmed, though.

Did I expect to hear landscaping and projects here? Yes. Just not nearly every day. Did I expect to hear car stereos blast by the bedroom THREE times in one day? No, not at all. Really, if you can't escape this shit in a retirement community where CAN you escape it? I doubt most of them are people who live here but more like people visiting or who work here. Still, the owners should remind them that this isn't the ghettos.

Later…

No way. Just no way. This anxiety I’m feeling, which is worse today, is almost certainly connected to the new dose and not the diet I was doing. It’s got to be. I ate more yesterday and today, yet I’m still having symptoms of anxiety. I’ll be damned if I’ll put up with this shit again. I’m calling the doctor’s office on Monday as Tom suggested since even he can't be entirely sure of anything. Not even a lorazepam has helped. I should have known better. I was feeling fine on the 75s and that’s where I should have stayed. All that should matter is how I feel and not their damn numbers. When you don’t feel good, then screw the numbers. I really hope the booming/racing heart isn’t next.

What I’ve got to find out is whether or not this medication can cause anxiety even if your numbers aren’t bad. I mean not bad in a certain way. I can’t believe my TSH has dropped too low, but I wonder if my T4 could have gone a little higher. She will probably send me to the lab to find out, but I’m thinking I’m going to have to dose back down to 75.

Another reason I’m starting to suspect the medication (besides the fact that it’s getting worse) is that no diet has ever made me feel anxious before no matter how extreme it may be. It can make me sluggish and shaky, but it’s never made me anxious. I swear this isn’t normal for me. Not even in the worst of times in life. Things I worry about can be on my mind, they can mess with my sleep, and they can sometimes give me the runs, but these flashes of anxiety I feel well up in my chest… that just shouldn’t be happening. Not unless it’s possible to suddenly become this way for some reason.

I’m just tired of suffering on and off and wondering what the hell I did to deserve it. I was doing so well for months, and now it’s back. Again, being poor was easier. It’s frustrating and depressing to have to once again deal with anxiety I’m not used to. This isn’t like when we stress or worry over something that eats at our minds. This is worse.

One of the toilets hasn’t arrived yet, so we might just install one of them tomorrow.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 16, 2015 Got a lot done today… laundry, making out the grocery list, cleaning, etc. Now I can finally relax and do some writing. I could skip my workout with all the physical activity I’ve gotten today doing things around the house, but I don’t want to. I like riding and getting some fresh air.

Tammy left a message and I first decided I’d call back in a week or two when there was less going on. Remember, we’re installing new toilets this weekend. They’ve arrived at Home Depot and all we have to do is pick them up tomorrow.

But then I realized she’d be there for me if I wanted to talk. She always makes time for me as soon as she can, and I knew that a 10-15 minute chat wouldn’t kill me as much as I prefer Facebook to phones.

She had both good and bad news to inform me of. I’m thrilled to learn she and Mark recently quit smoking and I hope they STAY quit. Yes, she will suffer for a while, and yes, she will gain weight cuz her metabolism is about to take a hit, but the cravings will pass and the weight can be lost later on.

The bad news – and I didn’t know this – she’s had diabetes for years. I know of others who had it, changed their eating habits, lost weight and got rid of it, but it might not be that easy for her. She can eat right, but the steroids she has to take can cause both weight and water gain, and she’s exercise-challenged cuz of her knee and arthritis.

It gets worse. She needs an insulin pump and her damn insurance has denied her cuz her numbers are too high.

What. The. Fuck?

When it comes to state, government or medical insurance, I am sooo sick of them not taking care of their own. Meanwhile, if you’re a foreigner or you’re in another country, they’ll give you EVERYTHING. It’s totally beyond fucked up.

So she has diabetes, our mother had it, and our grandfather had it. That means I could be next, even though I’m not that big and I’m pretty active. Still, she inspired me to get a good 20 pounds or so off. I think I might be able to do it now that they’ve got my thyroid meds regulated and I’ve found that IF diets work for me so long as I don’t overdo it. They can make me weak, shaky and moody and therefore I sometimes have to eat earlier than planned. Still, like with quitting smoking, you usually have to suffer a bit to make changes in life.

She and Mark, like us, are doing projects around the house little by little. Their place is a lot newer than ours, but they still want to customize it to their tastes. I guess screens need to be replaced every few years there cuz of the storms. Meanwhile, we still have our 32-year-old screens, LOL. She isn’t worse than us in all ways. She’s never needed heat since she’s been there, the lucky girl!

She wants to go on a cruise someday, too. I think she’d love it. This will be our second one. After the first one, I thought it was a hectic pain in the ass since we lived in such a tiny town that we couldn’t fly to and from. We had to Amtrak to and from the airport. But after the shit we went through upon moving here, I realized how much fun it was after all, though yes, cruises are rocking with all kinds of wild and fun adventures. It’s like a giant playground in the middle of the ocean. If you want to relax, don’t go cruising.

Got some goodies arriving tomorrow, including a realistic miniature chipmunk. That was an add-on for just a few bucks. I can add it to all my other animals. I also want to get the skunk and possum.

The hairpiece came today and I wish it hadn’t so I could’ve gotten a refund. Dumbest waste of money yet, even if it was just $5. I can’t get it to stay in place.

My LiveJournal ratings are still rising. I’m now at 13,148. I changed themes and couldn’t find the old one afterward so now it has a new look.

I dreamed my cyber friend Christine adopted a baby, and the pill dreams are back, too. This time I went to shake a pill into my mouth and ended up with a whole mouthful which I was struggling to spit out. I’d never be so dumb as to shake a pill from a bottle full of pills into my mouth in real life, though.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 15, 2015 I couldn’t believe I was out well after dark riding my bike in shorts and sandals in mid-October, but I was. I’m loving this endless summer! They’re still claiming we’re going to get a lot more rain from January through March, but I’ll believe it when I see it.

Tom needed to get some vitamin C on Amazon, so we also got some goodies while we were at it. He got when he usually gets… Computer/electronics-related stuff. I got some wall stickers to replace a couple of wall stickers in the hallway. They’re silhouettes of birds on branches with a few flying around them.

When I went to apply a 31” sticker of a figure skater I accidentally “twisted” her ankle. She’s also got a kink in her knee. I also have a sticker of a giant eye that I’m kind of sick of.

I also got a couple of bronze lady figurines from this series I’ve been collecting. Got about a dozen now, all in different poses.

Every now and then I check Mary's pathetic tweets just for shits and giggles. This is the one that let her crazy ex kill her baby and that I stupidly let use me to type her “story” from jail. I worked my ass off and didn’t get shit in return. Actually, I did get something. I got falsely accused of bashing her in my blog (better be careful what you accuse people of lest they actually act on it in the future), she blocked me on Facebook, then she unblocked me, and that was when I told her I was done with her. All she does is suck whatever she can out of people.

Anyway, she’s ”overwhelmed” and “miserable.” Oh, poor baby. She must not currently have a bad boy to use to buy her things. I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gotten knocked up since her release.

She is otherwise intelligent and a great writer, so it’s too bad that she has to be so selfish and paranoid and befriend people under false pretenses.

No landscaping or wood chippers running today, but here we go again with the small plane circling round and round. I don’t understand why they do this at times, but when they do it’s kind of annoying.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 2015 It turns out that not eating was definitely what was messing up my moods. I guess my blood sugar got too low. Tom was wonderful about it after work. He let me whine all about it and then he took me out to eat. We just grabbed some fast food from Jack-in-the-Box, but it was sooo good. Never knew there was such a thing as vanilla Sprite before. Going to have to try their peach and raspberry versions in the future.

After Jack’s, we went to a grocery outlet where I grabbed some fresh strawberries and orange juice. I was already feeling a million times better. It seems that the better a diet works, the shittier they make you feel. One doesn’t need to give up on this sort of thing altogether, but it’s definitely best not to be so extreme about it. Maybe do it every 2 to 3 days instead of every single day.

When I researched IF diets it said that it helps toughen you up to hunger and makes you able to withstand going longer periods of time without eating. This is definitely true. I guess it’s like that with a lot of things. Having more pain can toughen you up to it, so this makes sense. You just gotta go easy with it and not get so carried away.

I really felt horrible yesterday and it was frustrating until I knew for sure what it was. When we lose a pet and we get depressed we know exactly why we’re depressed. But I wasn’t sure at first what was causing my anxiety and depression. I couldn’t help but keep thinking that being as poor as we once were was so much easier. That was straightforward. With anxiety and depression, there can be a number of possibilities. Usually, however, I don’t feel any negative emotions without a reason. But until you know what that reason is, it can make it seem even worse.

At the grocery store, I also got a wind chime with three little cowbells. I got this one more for sound than for looks. It sounds different than anything else I’ve got out there. We just have yet to have enough wind to move it.

Today has been amazingly and unbelievably quiet so far. The last two days were horrible with all the landscaping in tree cutting I heard for hours at a time. Today, though, is totally dead quiet. I don’t know that it’s ever been this quiet in the middle of a weekday.

Last night consisted of many quick and senseless, silly fragments of dreams. It was the other way around where it was Fran that was still alive and he was making funeral arrangements for his dead brother Rick. In real life, Rick is the one who’s still alive.

In another dream, I was excited that this woman who made a movie gave it the title I suggested. I was trying to get a copy of it to send to my parents, LOL, who seem to be alive and well and half my dreams.

In another dream, I seemed to have moved in with a woman I was attracted to (Nane?). I don’t know if we were in a relationship or if we were just roommates, but we were in a large room watching a movie when I decided to leave. She said something like, “Yeah, it’s down to just 50° in here.”

I mentioned calling my parents and she made the comment about it only being a few days since I last called them. I said they might be worried about me since I just moved in with her and wanted to let them know I was okay. I asked her how often she would call her own parents and she said every week to 2 months.

As I rose from the couch we sat on, I also mentioned the book I was writing and said, “If we did what I’m about to write about, you would cringe.” At least I think that’s what I said. I’m not entirely sure about the last part.

Then I was walking in high heels along the street and was surprised at how easy it was to walk in them. Some guy walked by and said I should walk closer toward the side of the road. Then he told some girl who magically appeared that her joke wasn’t funny and was suddenly holding a rat that I realized was mine.

My user ratings on LiveJournal are now up to 13,370. It’s listed on my profile page there. I’m probably getting more viewers because I just noticed they have daily questions that I’ve been answering, although my tracker isn’t reflecting much in the way of new activity. This is probably thanks to all the mobiles out there. Trackers are blind to them and since more and more people are using them I don’t see most of my blog visitors anymore.

I sincerely hope the video I shared on my Facebook wall of a rat attacking a pigeon grosses Andy the hell out because he is continuing to drive me crazy with the food talk and it’s more than obvious that he is not a true friend at all. The more I hint or even bluntly suggest he quit driving that subject into the ground, the more he discusses it. Well, that tells me something about him right there; that he’s not a true friend. So I wasn’t just paranoid in suspecting that he truly does enjoy annoying people. Well, anyone who can get off on doing that is obviously not a friend no matter what they may say, and therefore I’m not checking in as much.

I’m even fucking with him at times by using Ask’s constant technical issues as an excuse to delete his questions and comments to me about food. Obviously, I won’t delete them all otherwise it would be obvious, but I do delete some of them and just say that I never got them.

Regardless of the fact that he obviously enjoys annoying people, I still think he has a serious food addiction. His whole life is nothing but Facebook, food, canning and cleaning toilets. Well, I’m sure there are some porn and dreaming of young studs he can never have mixed in as well. Either way, if he’s stuffing the shit out of himself as I suspect he may be, I would be genuinely concerned for my health. He totally overdoes things. First it was cigarettes and pot. Then it was alcohol. Now it’s food.

Heard someone drive by with loud music. It was the black person who lives a few houses down. Figures. I thought it would be the young guy who visits, but nope. It was actually the old lady that lives there. They just can’t drop their ghetto ways no matter where they go, can they?

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2015 I didn’t have an asthma attack, but sure enough, my heart raced me awake at 1:30 AM. Well, I’m not sure if it raced me awake on its own or if the dream I had caused it to do so where I was in a crowded mall or something in some strange place, and lost track of Tom. All I know is that I had to take a lorazepam for the first time since last spring to help me fall back asleep.

I awoke slightly anxious and depressed but with no booming heart. I don’t feel jittery at all. I’m just frustrated because I don’t know for sure what’s causing what. Is it the dosage increase or is it just me? Every time I think I’m home free and I gain my confidence, something happens to pull my sense of security down a notch. Once again I am dealing with a kind of anxiety that I have never experienced before in my life and it gets to me at times. I usually feel confident and carefree, and hopefully I will be feeling that way soon enough and not progressively worsen. If I do then I will have to get to the labs so they can check my TSH, but especially my T4.

It’s frustrating because when I’m not experiencing something bad I spend too much time worrying that I will. I have been anti-psych drugs due to the fact that they can be addicting as well as carry side effects. However, if this keeps up and they rule out my thyroid dose as being the culprit, I’m going to tell that shrink in December to just go ahead and give me a full-time prescription regardless of the possible risks and the fact that it may make me drowsy. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to too, as that’s how they make their living. They’re licensed drug dealers, in a sense, only they spent time chatting with you while they’re at it. It’s still hard to believe that something that wasn’t normal for me in the past could now be normal for me, but I guess anything is possible.

The good news is that my lungs are like they usually are, crystal clear and wide open. I had a little bit of congestion when I woke up and I worried I might have an attack, but I didn’t. Fortunately, Tom was still home but my mind still went “what-ifing” on me. What if I have a severe anxiety attack when he’s not home or what if I have a severe asthma attack? That attack was the worst I’d had in 10 years. I’m keeping track of everything I feel and experience for my doctors, but hopefully, I won’t have to get in to see them sooner than originally planned.

I’ve lost a surprising 5 pounds in just 6 days. Fasting 8 hours a day may also be playing on my moods. Yesterday I felt both weak and shaky so I needed to eat a little earlier than usual.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 12, 2015 So I survived the night without another asthma attack. Sure woke up a million times along the way, though, but I feel rested enough.

It wasn't even 9 o'clock when sure enough, the weekday racket began. I heard a wood chipper running on and off somewhere.

Not much else to report on this chilly morning that is supposed to turn into a 94° afternoon other than that I had a dream that the cops pulled up to where I was living in the dream, and that appeared to be a strip of one-story apartments or condos. I must have either done something bad or thought the cops might believe that I did something bad because I was definitely not happy to see them. I woke up trying to decide whether or not I should answer the door when they knocked or if I should go run and hide and hope for the best.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 11, 2015 After a productive day of installing our beautiful new chandelier, bike riding and other things, I ended up having a rather scary night. I got into bed and was just about to knock off when I felt what I thought was a little glob of phlegm stuck in my lungs to cough up. But then I just kept coughing and suddenly started wheezing my ass off and felt as if my lungs were full of mud. It was the worst asthma attack I’d had in years and for a fleeting moment, I considered going to the ER since Tom said he heard they stopped selling Primatene Mist OTC. It shocks the shit out of me just how unexpected, sudden and fierce the attack was, but our little finger reader did say I was 99% oxygenated and my pulse was a comfortable 84.

Tom feels confident I just got too carried away with my obsession for good smells… perfume, incense, wax… and I hope to hell he’s right and that this isn’t the beginning of a whole new problem for me. As it is I’ll be a little nervous going to bed tonight. Pretty sure whatever it was was in the bed because that’s where it started and it eased up whenever I’d leave the room. Also, I did run out of Febreeze fabric freshener and I did spray some patchouli on the bed. So all the bedding will be washed today. All of it. Including the mattress pad.

Unless it keeps happening after refraining from my smellies, we doubt it was caused by my thyroid dosage increase. He found online that asthma can be an indicator of Hashimoto’s (I guess the whole auto-immune thing is connected), but if you’re going to experience an allergic reaction to the thyroid meds (rash, tightness), it should happen right away. Some people are allergic to the fillers that hold the meds together.

The only other thing he read was that adjusting your thyroid meds can affect your asthma meds if you’re taking any, and I’m not. Sure wished I had an inhaler last night, though, even though that might’ve made me more congested at first. If it happens again I’ll contact my doctors. I’m glad I have a better team of doctors than I had last year and that they deal with me in a quicker, more efficient manner, but hopefully, it won’t be one more thing I have to worry about in the end. I’m trying to be positive and not remind myself that most of my problems aren’t short-lived.

I’m still a little shaky, tight and congested, but I am recovering. Hot caffeine and a shower helped a lot. Gonna take it easy today and just see what happens. I just know I’m sick and tired of this fucking on-and-off medical drama.

Later…

Still alive but a bit shaken up both physically and emotionally over last night’s asthma attack. Tom was a huge help whacking my back (pulmonary cupping) to help loosen things up and kick up the congestion, making me coffee… that sort of thing. I just hope it doesn’t happen again! It was scary, but not nearly as scary as when my heart took off on a run last year. I still have on-and-off tightness and when I cough it tastes like shit. All the bedding has been washed, though, and I’ve stayed away from the perfume and incense.

When choosing a cheaper insurance plan that should save us a grand or two per year, Tom noticed I had a couple of notifications on the health site saying 2 of my 4 appointments have been canceled (ear and PCP). Tom suspects the doctors are either going on vacation at those times or there was a glitch in the system. The ear isn’t critical, but I would like to see my PCP so I can get an inhaler that won’t mess with my meds in case of another emergency. Even as a non-smoker, I’m bound to have occasional attacks, though 99% of the time my lungs are crystal clear and wide open.

We ordered new toilets that will hopefully arrive on Friday because Tom will have 3 days off. They’re just basic oblong-shaped toilets that are 16” high. The only fancy feature they have is overflow systems. It’s like what our dishwasher has. They were $150 apiece.

As Tom said, I’m getting to be a real home improvement expert. LOL, yeah, he’s taught me well. Not just in Phoenix and Maricopa, but here I learned more about how carpet is laid. I’ve helped change faucets, change ceiling fans, change chandeliers, and next, we’ll be doing toilets and then eventually floors.

A few nights ago I dreamed I called my dad and told him I had good news and bad news. The bad news was that we’d have to rent a place for a while, but the good news was that the house we were renting was nice and it seemed to be a quiet neighborhood.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 2015 I still have over 100 more lessons to take in my Dutch course, so I probably won’t finish this year. Dutch may not be that tough overall, but the spelling is the toughest of any language I’ve ever studied!

Came up nearly 200 places in LiveJournal’s user ratings today.

Chatted with Tammy on Facebook yesterday. She’s really having a rough time of it health-wise. She developed arthritis when she was only in her 20s and got 6 shots in her neck yesterday. That hurts just thinking about it! She also has Fibromyalgia, which I read was very common. It’s where your muscles swell around the nerves, and I guess she may need surgery to cut the nerves. It’s like something up there really has it in for her at least in that department. As tough as it’s been I’m glad she has a beautiful home and doesn’t have to suffer in some uncomfortable dumpy place in a shitty neighborhood with shitty weather. And she’s not alone either, since she has Mark and the girls.

My first 2 weeks on the new dose have been a success and my T4 is now where it's going to be. About 6 more weeks for the TSH to settle in!

I was a little shocked and even a bit worried when Tom told me his pulse was just 45 when he got up. The lowest it’s ever been upon waking up was 49. I told him to tell his doctor about it, which he will see soon. It climbed into the 60s in no time at all, but still, I wonder if that could be something to be concerned with.

I’m just the opposite. Even calm and relaxed my pulse can average about 90.

Later…

My period snuck up on me today without any warning. I’m amazed I wasn’t hungry as hell yesterday as is usually the case the day before my period. Especially since I started an IF diet. I guess I can write about that, though I won’t make this public just yet, since I have no reason to believe that the same thing won’t happen again where I continue to diet but my body refuses to give up more than a few pounds. I’ve been sticking to it religiously, too.

Experience has proven to me that I simply cannot stick to having 1000 calories a day long-term in order to lose weight. I’m up an average of 16 hours as are most people, and trying to spread a measly 1000 cals over that many hours is just way too hard. So I gave up on dieting and assumed I was simply meant to be heavy just like your average middle-aged person. I knew that I would have to resort to something a bit extreme in order to lose weight if I was ever going to. The question was what? I wasn’t about to take any medication and risk side effects, I didn’t have the willpower to starve myself indefinitely, and could never stand the thought of puking up my food, all of which is unhealthy anyway.

But then I read some other people’s journals about IF diets, which means intermittent fasting. This is nothing new and it’s not like I haven’t heard about this before, I just never gave it that much thought. Three days ago I decided to try a 16/24 variation where I don’t eat until I’ve been up for 8 hours. I’m on the third day of doing this. Yes, it’s very hard, but it’s hard in a different kind of way than it was when I’d try to stretch 1000 calories over an entire day. By cutting my stomach’s typical hours in half, which is what I’m doing in a sense, I only have 8 hours in which to consume those 1000 calories. I live 16 hours a day, but my stomach only lives 8 hours a day. This means that I spend those 8 hours eating hourly, and not feeling hungry at all. It sums up to me being asleep for 8 hours, satisfying my hunger for 8 hours, and spending 8 hours being hungry instead of 16 hours being hungry. I could still go to Denny’s or someplace like that every so often and eat all I wanted so long as I did it toward the second half of my day. I chose to fast during the first half of my day because that’s when I’m typically the least hungry.

I also learned that as long as you don’t get carried away with the fasting, no, you don’t lose your muscles and you don’t become dizzy or sluggish. In fact, I’ve had just as much energy as I usually do. I’m actually surprised at just how good I feel on this diet despite being hungry. As with most things, if you overdo it, then it becomes dangerous. Intermittent fasting is said by some doctors to actually be good for the body. It’s a sort of detox for the system. At least this is what research has told me.

Thursday, the day I started this, I woke up at 151.2 pounds. Yesterday I was 149.4 pounds. Today I’m 148.8 pounds. The big test will be to see if I can get under 147 pounds. The last time I was under that amount was when I was sick. My body usually holds its weight and refuses to cross that threshold under other circumstances. At least it’s been that way since 2009 anyway. I should know in a few days. If it keeps working I will decide whether or not to actually continue losing weight. There are pros and cons to both, and both need to be considered. I know I would be healthier if I lost 30 pounds, but now is not a good time to be getting new clothes since we want to save as much money as we can for vacation. I started this more out of curiosity than anything else, and being curious by nature, I am likely going to want to see how far I can take it if I continue to be a success.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 9, 2015 Yesterday I ranked 14,099 out of LiveJournal’s top 100,000 journals and today I’m at 13,949. Interesting tidbit of information.

We’ve got 3 insurance plans to choose from and we’re probably going to go with the middle one. They each have their pros and cons. The third plan is good for if you rarely see doctors or are sick, but our current plan isn’t the greatest if you need a couple of specialists like I do (ear & endo). The only way the middle plan could cost us a lot would be if one of us were ever hospitalized.

So yesterday I’m sitting at my computer when I hear Bob’s blower start up and I’m like, WTF? It hasn’t been a week since he’s blown his place. He never blows himself more than once a week. Then I saw him on the roof. He was obviously blowing leaves out of the gutters.

I stepped out front and said hello. I thought he might ignore me, but he and Virginia (who I didn’t notice right away) were actually very friendly. So I took the time to admit I probably shouldn’t have said anything before, since one does have a right to repair their walkways, they were here first, and I can’t expect my neighbors to be silent 100% of the time.

They were actually friendlier than ever and we had a pleasant chat as I swept down the patio. Can’t deny it felt good to know we were on good terms. I really thought they were mad at me, and well, no one wants hostility so close to home, do they?

They asked when I was going on vacation, which they thought was sooner. We talked about the weather, and Bob asked how my writing was going. He said if I had anything published he wanted to read it. “Good luck with that,” I told him, LOL. He’d need a Kindle for that. What I didn’t tell him was that I highly doubted I wrote the kind of stuff he’d like to read. :)

I haven’t published anything in ages. Just not enough money to be worth the hassle. The writing world is so all or nothing. You either make a fortune (and become famous which I wouldn’t want) or you don’t make shit.

I should finish Rainstorm’s visual editing today. Tomorrow I’ll start the electronic read-through. Then I’ll share.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2015 I caught the mailman yesterday and told him I accidentally gave him a DHL number when he asked if I ever got the package. Our money was refunded actually, and it probably didn’t even make it into the country before it got lost.

I mentioned the nice weather as he placed the mail into the boxes and how he must really appreciate the dryness doing what he does. He said that at least he didn’t have to mow the lawn. He also said he didn’t get why they won’t spend money to bring water down from Alaska while they have no problem sending money to other countries. I don’t get it either. Maybe someday the government will let us in on their reasons why it is so important to give so much money to other countries so that it can finally make at least a little bit of sense to us. There’s got to be some logic to it and it would be nice if they would tell us about it. No one throws away billions of dollars like that without good reason, or at least I would hope.

I walked through a bank in my dreams last night where they were searching for someone who stole 2 million dollars. I was heading to take a train home as I struggled to pull a hoodie over my head when I realized I didn’t have my purse with me. I raced off hoping to hell my purse was still where I left it and fearing I would miss the train.

In another dream, Tom and I were in the car and marveling over how we haven’t had any money issues for years now. I was polishing my nails red in the car of all places. I’d gotten 2 nails polished when we pulled up to one of my doctor’s offices. I sat on a stool in the waiting room and resumed polishing my nails, but after just 2 more nails the stool toppled over and I hit the floor. As soon as I hit the floor, the nurse came to call me into an exam room.

Later…

Andy is continuing to annoy me with the daily food talk. Really, I am so fucking sick and tired of having to know it every goddamn time he eats. He is either seriously obsessed with food or deliberately trying to annoy me. It’s probably a combination of both, but knowing that he knows how constant repetition bothers me yet continues to go on and on about it excessively, makes me question the validity of his friendship yet again. What the hell kind of friend goes out of his way to annoy others they’re supposed to consider a friend?

First he was saying that he was eating some chili that Marla, who’s returning to Cali tomorrow, made while she was there. I ignored it, as usual, by responding with a different subject. 45 minutes later he reports that he just finished lunch.

45 minutes to eat lunch? Obsessed with food or not, I highly doubt it took that long to eat lunch. I swear it’s like he just wants to annoy me, but that will be met with me checking in less and less. Maybe the dumb shit will put two and two together eventually.

He did say one thing that was funny, though. I told him I was proud of myself for figuring out why I lost sound on my computer, but was glad to know I had Tom here as a backup. Then I said, “Maybe you’ll want a BF someday and he’ll be a real computer techie.”

He replied with, “I couldn’t get that lucky. He’ll be a jobless loser living with his mother.”

LOL, I hate to say it, but it’s so true. This was all I used to get as well, and I wonder why that changed for me but not for him. Maybe because he never matured personally or intellectually?

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2015 Decisions, decisions. Do I work in the laundry room today no matter what? Or do I wait and see if Bob starts any shit out there first?

Sometimes I still think maybe it was silly of me to be bothered by the walkway work since he does have a right to do repairs, but then I remember his shit attitude and that wipes any guilt or regrets away.

I’ve been making a point not to run into him so he doesn’t provoke me in any way. If I assaulted someone between 18-70, they’d do a fraction of what was done to me for the “letter.” But an 86-year-old would get me imprisoned for at least a decade or so. Society has a “But they’re defenseless!” attitude. Not a “They don’t have much longer to live anyway,” attitude.

Then again, does he not really have much longer to live? He could easily be fit enough to use hammers and power tools for another 5-10 years, which would be like a lifetime to me, of course.

I hated to do this, but I realized that if something suddenly happened to Tom, I would be so distraught that I would have a hard time thinking clearly as I did what I wanted to do before killing myself and then actually killing myself. Therefore, I wrote out some final steps to take. I still think he’s going to die first, and that means I will almost certainly one day have to carry these plans out on my own, as terrifying as they may be. But death can suddenly sneak up on us when we least expect it. How can I be sure the pigs won’t knock on the door to say he was killed on the way to or from work? Therefore, I knew I needed a clear plan mapped out before my eyes because I sure as hell wouldn’t be thinking clearly as the sadness, loss, fear and anger engulfed and consumed me upon hearing such tragic news. Whether he dies younger or as an old man, no one will be here to calmly tell me, do this, then do this, and then do that. But the list I made will.

Later…

My goal has been to learn at least enough of the basics or beyond in as many languages as I can. But sometimes I wonder if I should perfect my best language instead, which would be Spanish since it’s so common here in the US.

Then I say naw, I don’t think so. If you come to my country, then my language takes precedence over yours, like it or not. You wanna cry discrimination for that, fine. But I’m from here and if you come to my land then you should be willing to learn my language. Besides, I still know a great deal of the language. I was stuck in a jail cell in Arizona with someone who only spoke Spanish and we got by just fine, as did the housekeeper and I who cleaned our hotel room up in Oregon. I don’t use the language every single day, but I still read things online in Spanish from time to time and can understand the gist of what I read. Speaking and hearing another language is always harder than reading, but let’s just say that I don’t expect any problems in Mexico any more than I expected them in Puerto Rico.

Anyway, we went out bike riding. It was chilly, slightly breezy, and very comfortable for a rigorous ride. I wanted to go even faster, but Tom always complains if I go too fast, LOL.

I got an idea on how to make my own treadmill desk so I at least have the option of using the laptop there if I ever want to. Taking two of the old fan blades and stretching them across the rails, I can epoxy them together. Then I can run cable ties through the screw holes to secure it to the rails. Then again, this may look totally goofy in the end, so I don’t know.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2015 Yesterday was fun, productive, loud and annoying. We went to Home Depot shortly after they opened to look at ceiling fans and toilets. Apparently, the Disabilities Act has caused toilets to go from a standard 14” in height to 16.5”. Not a very good thing if you’re as short as I am, but they do still have some 14’s and that’s what we’ll probably get. We decided on elongated bowls rather than round, but this is still a couple of weeks away.

They charge 100 bucks per toilet for installation, plus 25 bucks for each of the old toilets to be hauled away, so we decided to save $250 and do it ourselves. Except for the carpet, we’ve always been do-it-yourselfers.

We got a new ceiling fan for the living room. It’s the same 52” and the same brand as the old one, only this one is white and it has five blades instead of four. It was $70. Our living room is cavernous, so on really warm days the old one barely moved much air toward the corners. It has three thick frosted light fixtures that are sort of cone-shaped. We put the LED bulbs in it that were in the old one, which should last around 20 years.

While we were looking at ceiling fans, my eyes casually swung to the nearby chandeliers, and then I spotted one that totally made my jaw drop. I was just like, OMG, that thing is gorgeous! The original chandelier in this place isn’t ugly and it does go with the place, but it’s not me. Once our new gorgeous crystal chandelier I'm surprised was only $99 is installed, I’ll take pictures of the old and the new like I did with the fans.

After Home Depot we went to Walmart where we got a handful of goodies. He got some storage containers for electronic and computer-related parts that will help him organize things better, and I got Emeraude perfume, which has a unique fruity smell.

I also got a beautiful tropical calendar for next year and a semi-realistic-looking vinyl king snake that I placed by the door and wished my mother could come back to life long enough to visit, LOL. It’s not as realistic as my rattler, but it’s enough to jolt the heart of the unsuspecting. We would see these snakes every now and then down in Arizona. The way they move is really cool. There was an all-black king snake that one could easily mistake for an old tire scrap that used to watch us when we would be out and about on the land. It would usually stick its head up out of a hole in the ground. These were harmless snakes, but the Western diamondback, as cool looking as it was, was one to be careful of. Tom came as close to death as he’d ever gotten the night he started to go out and get something from the car only to be greeted by a rattlesnake right outside the door. With the hospital being nearly an hour away, that would definitely not be a good place to get struck.

I also got some scented wax cubes and the most sparkly eyeshadow I’ve ever seen in six different colors. It was the only one there. Am I too old to wear glitter eyeshadow? Yeah, probably. Do I care? Definitely not. Damn, I love being too selfish to care what others think! ;) I wish I had this attitude half a century ago.

Our Walmart purchases were free since we had gift cards.

I also have a couple of collectibles on the way to me from Amazon… a sexy “secretary” and an anime doll.

I’ll write about the shit we came home to later on.

Later…

So the shit we came home to. That would be the very loud process of a tree being cut down behind the house. Yeah, we can’t go much more than a month or two without something going on here, can we? And this is on top of all the landscaping and traffic noise I hear almost daily.

Heard about 6 whacks of a hammer somewhere too, but if it wasn’t Bob doing it just to make me hear him, then I don’t know where it came from. The only sound I’m sure he made was when he was blowing leaves for about 15-20 minutes.

Anyway, they worked on the tree for about 3 hours. Not the all-day event I thought it would be like when they took down a tree next door last year, but it was just as loud, especially the wood chipper. They sawed the branches down, then they tossed them in the chipper, then they blew leaves out of the road.

Unfortunately, I’m almost back on days, so I can just imagine what shit I’m in for today. If nothing else, it’ll be the Tuesday landscapers and God knows what from Bob.

I’ve had a few moments where I thought I felt a bit anxious, but I have otherwise had no problem on the new dose. I wish it were December already. If I can make it to then without incident, then I should be fine.

After dreaming about my dentist selling wallpaper and finding a huge bug with a strange paisley design on it, I awoke to find my hips oddly sore. After I get up after sitting for a while, it’s very uncomfortable. I don’t understand just what I did to get this sore. I helped with the fan installation, but I wasn’t the one climbing up and down the ladder. I just opened and handed him stuff so he wouldn’t have to keep climbing up and down. I did a lot of walking yesterday through the stores, so maybe I just need to do that more since biking works different muscles.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2015 As of this day I have been smoke-free for 18 years… yay!

As of yesterday, I decided the next series I would watch on Netflix would be Criminal Minds.

About 6 hours ago, we went out bike riding. There was thunder and lightning all around us in the distance, but not a drop of rain here. Not surprisingly, there’s no rain predicted over the next week. Just some clouds with temps in the 80s.

I had a dream I met Aly somewhere. First I was pissed because I forgot my meds. She searched her car but couldn’t find them anywhere.

She was then humming some tune while happily cooking something in the kitchen of what looked like a regular house in which I was standing just outside. Behind her stood a washer and dryer that looked familiar. I pulled out my smartphone and texted her that I think I once had that same washer and dryer. Haha.

Then we were at a hotel and I was pissed again because she brought along two other women she didn’t tell me she was bringing and they never shut up. Every time I tried to initiate a conversation with her, one of the women would butt in.

The following morning I woke up, turned the portable sound machine off that I had brought with me, and found that I was alone in the room. Then I got up to use the bathroom. The toilet lid was decorated with hearts and a little bookcase stood nearby. As I lifted the lid and sat down, I plucked what appeared to be a horror story off the shelf and tried to decide if it was worth stealing since we were leaving that day.

Later…

Many people on Facebook "liked" that I've been smoke-free for 18 years except for my sister and nieces. Figures, too. I mean I knew they wouldn’t. I started to make excuses for them in my mind from them being busy to them having too many posts in their news feed to read through, but that just doesn’t seem like something family should miss. Norma “liked” it and she’s just a distant cousin.

When Tom and I were talking about places we may possibly travel to in the future, we both agreed that Europe isn’t very appealing. Most of it is too old, cold, and crowded. I like tropical places anyway. The only country there that I might consider is Greece. It has some very beautiful sections that really stand out from your traditional European setting. I doubt we’ll go there, though.

It pisses me off just how tight so many of my clothes have become. A year ago, when I was temporarily scared off my thyroid meds, I gained a few pounds that I haven’t been able to get back off ever since, thanks to the incompetent assholes that didn’t care to help me. I keep whatever I put on, so that’s why it’s important not to gain any more weight if I can help it.

There is just no way I’m ever going to have the willpower to stand the hunger, irritability, dizziness, and sluggishness that would come with having 1000 calories every single day for the many months it would take to lose 30 pounds. I might be able to lose it on 1200 a day, but even that isn’t very doable. I really need about 1500 a day. I hate feeling so powerless when it comes to my body, but that’s just life for most people. Nobody chooses to get cancer, break bones, have heart attacks and so much more… including getting so damn fat.

There are things that are a normal everyday part of life, and then there are extremes that continue to make me wonder if there isn’t something up there that has singled me out and picked on me for reasons I’ll never understand.

I consider myself agnostic as opposed to atheist because I have no idea if there is a God or not. Every time I think of reasons that suggest there could be, I am then presented with reasons to suggest just the opposite, and that God is just a fantasy fabricated as a means of controlling others and coping with this thing called life. I don’t know if there’s an afterlife either, and if there is one, I don’t know what it is.

But let’s say there is a God. One that picks and chooses what happens to us, good and bad. What made me turn against God? some people have asked. What was it that finally made you hate Him so much and when?

My hatred grew and my faith faded in stages. Four stages, actually. Funny too, because there are four stages of cancer, the fourth being the deadliest.

Stage 1: When I was struggling to conceive a child back in the 90s was when I really began to stop and take a good hard look at things stemming all the way back to my childhood. The childhood abuse, the constant rejection, not being able to get a woman I really lusted for, sexual/infertility problems, and then money issues, all made me start to wonder. WTF? What is this shit??? Could I really be cursed?

Stage 2: Yeah, I could be. At the hands of a God or just because? Well, I may never know, but when I was legally railroaded in 2000, I looked back and saw a clear and frightening pattern emerge. Everyone who ever screwed me over had gotten away with it. Totally! It was as if something up there had been protecting them all along, and this was when I really felt myself start to turn against God. I’m sure you can imagine what it was like when we lost our home in Arizona and then our land up in Oregon a few years later.

Stage 3: From 2007-2011 we suffered immensely financially and this is what really drove my hatred for any possible God home. We were pushed within a fraction of an inch to having to choose between the streets or death. Both of them would have meant death either way; the question was whether or not we wanted to get it over with quickly or die a slow miserable death in the streets. Our answer was obvious, although we certainly didn’t want our lives to end that way and that young, knowing we still had another 30-40 years left. We lived in a bummy old trailer with shit for space, and we didn’t always have enough money for necessities.

Stage 4: Ah, the final killer. That would be last year’s medical scare. It was one of the most terrifying and traumatizing experiences of my life. Even though I didn’t technically have a foot in the grave like I did a few years ago, this was what drove the nail firmly into the coffin. If anything could be up there with more power than any of us could ever have and it chose to sit back and allow for us horror, then I have no respect for it whatsoever. So God… if you exist, fine. If you hate me, fine. But I will never ever forgive you for the pain and suffering which you have allowed to be unfairly and unnecessarily inflicted upon me. Ever.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2015 Sometimes I find that it helps to get my anger toward certain individuals out by fantasizing about violence against them. At my hands, of course, and without ever getting caught. For years I fantasized about taking a huge yacht out in the middle of the ocean along with everybody that screwed me in Arizona. There I would slowly torture them in so many different ways, letting them believe they would be killed in the end. Only I allow them to live so that they are forced to live with the memories of what I did to them unless they so choose to end it all themselves.

My latest mental target is Bob. I’ve been on nights, so for all I know he might have quieted down recently. Still, he really pissed the shit out of me. Not just with his racket being so close to our house, but with his attitude and the way he suggested I consider getting an office somewhere. That was just so incredibly rude. Why doesn’t he consider shutting up?

Because we’re neighbors, I have others do my dirty work in one of my fantasies. In it, I take advantage of the fact that they love to keep their front door open, and a small group of strange men they’ve never seen before suddenly step inside while they’re just a few feet away eating lunch at their dining table. One guy holds Virginia down so she can’t call for help (hey, she’s the quiet one after all) while the others surround Bob and accuse him of owing thousands of dollars in gambling debt which he of course knows absolutely nothing about.

Because he was supposedly ordered to pay up a few times and didn’t do so, the guy decides to go “Turkey” on him. In Turkey, they cut off the fingers of a thief. In this fantasy a guy places Bob’s right hand upon the table after picking up the heaviest object he sees and smashes his fingers, thus disabling him from ever picking up a hammer or a circular saw ever again, but allowing him to live so Virginia doesn’t move and possibly leave me to get someone worse over there.

My guess is they’ll be here another decade. The next people would certainly be younger, but their chances of having kids would be iffy with more and more women being pressured to work rather than have families. Dogs? I don’t know. I thought everybody but us would have dogs here, but given that this is the West and they must be brought in as pets only here, I think that’s why a lot of people don’t bother. They just don’t think it’s right to take a dog indoors.

Even though these are just fantasies, vicious or not, I don’t want to post this publicly. What if? Just what if somebody actually does something to them? Well, I wouldn’t want these fantasies sitting out there for anyone to see at that point. Other than Tom, I’m not even going to share this with Andy or Aly. Just my sister.

I don’t get it. I just don’t get it at times. So many people half his age can barely walk half a mile. I’m sure my parents couldn’t conceive of riding a bike by the time they hit their mid-70s. Yet here’s this 86-year-old who can do anything a guy in his 20s can do. He walks 2 miles a day, rides his bike, operates his little workshop, and goes out every day. Never ever have I seen him take a day off to just stay inside and relax at home. It’s like he has an endless supply of energy, and based on how often I see lights on over there, they only sleep about 6 hours a night. The lights seemed to go off at 11 PM and come on at 5 AM, another thing I won’t say in public. They don’t have a computer, but what if their kids looked me up? LOL… LMAO! “Mom! Dad! The lady next door wants to smash your fingers and she knows when the lights are on, too!” ROTFL

I had to laugh when I saw a Sex Positions adult coloring book on Amazon. But all you would need was just one color… flesh tone. LOL

Tom and I were both looking at different brands of colored pencils and who would have thought there would be so many! Not so many brands, but so many different types of pencils for so many different types of projects.

I have just one episode left of Law & Order SVU on Netflix, and then I will need to find a new show since they don’t have a steady stream of movies I want to watch.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 2, 2015 I was up longer than I thought I would be and didn’t sleep as long as I thought I would, so I was a bit tired today.

Cousin Norma shared an article with me on Facebook about these heroic African Pouched rats that can sniff out old landmines as well as tuberculosis. I’ve heard of this before but it’s still just as fascinating. :)

Doing laundry now and looking forward to Tom’s 3-day weekend. Some of it will be spent picking out a new ceiling fan for the living room and new toilets as well.

We visited Tom’s sister in my dreams last night, and on the drive home, I asked him why he thought her house smelled so good even though she had dogs. He said, “Some people use flowers.”

LOL

On with the laundry and grocery list now.

Last night I had that feeling again where my head felt a bit off, kind of lightheaded, and I even felt slightly tight. I know I had a little wheezing and congestion during one of the many times I woke up yesterday because I remember coughing it up when I got up to pee.

I felt slightly bummed too, and the more things go well for us, the more I will return to worrying about the future and who’s going to be there for us when we get old, and how much suffering we might have to go through.

The nights may be peaceful, but there is something that can be a bit depressing about it at times. I guess because it's just all wrong. It's just not normal to be up all night. I should be in bed along with everybody else, but I have been denied that basic human right for half of my life since I can only sleep at night half of the time. But then I would also hate always being on days because then I’d always have to listen to people’s shit around here. Almost always, anyway.

In regard to my sleep schedule curse, Andy really annoyed me with his big mouth by butting into that post Norma made with the rat article. He said something about me going to sleep but he was sure I would appreciate it once I got up.

As I told him in a PM, just like it’s nobody’s business what his work schedule is, it’s nobody’s business what my sleep schedule is.

I realized I don’t have as much of an I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude as I thought I had and would like to have once it hit me just how uncomfortable I am with discussing my sleep disorder. It’s the one thing I’m actually a bit ashamed and embarrassed of. Until people’s attitudes change or it becomes more common, it’s not something I can just easily up and talk about with just anyone. Despite the fact that Norma is a very open-minded individual and would never assume something doesn’t exist just because she may not get it, I have become a lot more private than I was years ago. There was hardly a subject I omitted from my public journals in the past. Not anymore, though. You just never know what information can be used against you in ways you can’t control. Yes, I’m still a big stickler for free speech, and if I’ve got something to say I’m going to say it. However, just because I’m not ashamed that I was in jail since I was innocent and didn’t deserve it, no one needs to know that, do they? Why disclose unnecessarily? It isn’t what they think I worry about with some subjects, but what they may try to do.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 1, 2015 It didn’t get as cold in here as I thought it would early in the morning, but it did drop to 72° and I kicked the heat on for a few minutes before going to bed at which time I slept horribly. First, a loud vehicle woke me up because I forgot to insert my earplug, and then it seemed I just kept waking up for no reason at all. No racy hearts, though.

Sometimes when I think how I’ve got a dozen or so more winters here, and in a place with so much traffic, it kind of gets me down. Today was gorgeous, though. Tom and I went out on the bikes early in the evening.

Aly does have the early stages of leukemia and I guess they’re going to continue with the blood transfusions for a few months and inject some kind of medication into the blood while they’re at it. I really hope this gets rid of it!

I had a series of strange dreams. Tom overslept because he didn’t feel well, and then I was getting dressed to go somewhere with my mother. I grabbed a high-heeled sandal and slipped it on my foot. When I was unable to find the other one, I switched to flats and said, ”These are much more comfortable anyway.”

Then I might have been staying in some fancy hotel suite where housekeepers were doing my laundry and changing the bed sheets.

It seemed there was a cat in my dreams, too. Lots of cat dreams since Simone left.

Then two of my doctors were in my dreams. In one dream I was seeing my PCP and I said something like, “It seems there’s one thing after another. As soon as you take care of one problem, you have a new one to deal with.”

In response to that she said, ”We never realize the time in between.”

Then I was in a large swimming pool with my endo and some guy. I was doing all kinds of intricate dives that I wouldn’t have a clue as to how to do in real life. That was the only fun and entertaining dream… watching myself flip, twist and spin through the air and into the water. LOL

[maddiwrites]

Family Troubles

Pairing: JJ x Routledge!Reader, mostly John B x Routledge!Reader sibling dynamic 

Summary: (Requested) After the death of your brother, you move to the mainland with a nice foster family. Months later, you get the biggest shock of your life that leaves you questioning what you want.

Note: I’m so sorry this took so long. I hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 4.6k

You peek your eyes open to another sunny autumn day as your alarm echos off the walls of your room through your phone. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t dread the day ahead of you. Because you feel like you’re finally living a life worth living. 

It’s been about three months since John B disappeared. The worst three months of your life. You never would have imagined living a life without your twin brother. It was lonely and heart wrenching. You didn’t think you would get through it. And living with the Cameron’s didn’t make your life any easier. Ward tried blocking you off from the rest of the world. He was afraid of what you could do to his reputation despite knowing most people wouldn’t believe you. You were just a Pogue with a criminal background.Your word means nothing to Kooks and cops alike. Nonetheless, Ward didn’t want to take any chances. 

It wasn’t until you finally got in touch with Cheryl, your social worker, that your life started to change for the better. You couldn’t believe the irony of running to your social worker for help when you’ve been running away from her all summer. Surprisingly, she did hear you. She listened to you. She believed you! Although there wasn’t much she could do about Ward, she could help you get out from under his neglectful guardianship. 

She placed you in a foster home with an eager Spanish American couple on the main land. Of course you weren’t ecstatic about it. Foster care was never something you wanted to be placed in. Especially without your brother. But at the time, anything was better than living with Ward Cameron. 

The worst part of the process was telling your best friends. Kie and Pope, although disappointed, were happy for you because they knew this was what was best for you. JJ, however, didn’t understand how you could be so cool calm and collected about moving. Losing you to Figure Eight was hard enough and now he was going to have open water separating you two? He didn’t cope well with the news. He barely talked to you as you gathered your stuff to leave, almost didn’t show up to say his final goodbye with Kie and Pope. But he came as you were about to get on the ferry with Cheryl. The two of you cried and told each other you were sorry. You kissed his cheek and slipped a small piece of paper with your new address into his pockets. JJ reluctantly let you go with a promise that he will visit you as soon as he could and you believed him. Because he was your best friend, your soul mate, and partner in crime.

JJ saves up every week to take the ferry to visit you. He usually comes every Sunday, respecting your foster parents’ wishes that he not stay the night. At first they were wary of him coming over - they know about your past from the social worker and the News and how JJ was a part of it. They wanted you to have a new beginning. A fresh start. They believed you when you said your brother wasn’t a murderer and that you and your friends did nothing wrong. They were just afraid that JJ would convince you to come back to the Outer Banks (which he’s tried), or make you regress to past trouble making behaviors. But you explained to Maria and Luis, your foster parents, how important JJ is to you and that he needed to be a part of you life no matter where you were living. So they allowed him weekend visits, always making sure to keep an eye on you when he was here. 

Someone lightly taps on your door until you say, “Come in.” 

Maria pokes her head in and smiles when she sees you’re awake. “Morning, honey. Your appointment is in thirty minutes. Will you be ready to leave soon?”

You offer her a smile and nod. “Yeah, I’ll be down in ten.”

Maria nods. “Okay.”

She closes the door gently, leaving you alone to get ready for your appointment with your therapist. You agreed with your new foster parents to go to therapy once a week. They thought it would help you move on and grow and get rid of the nightmares that sometimes terrorize you at night. You went because you felt like you owed it to them to make an effort. They weren’t like the other foster couples you hear horror stories about. If they were gonna be there for you, you were gonna be there for them too. 

The therapy sessions were working. You’re more open to talking about what you went through. The therapist never gave you any inclination that she was judging you or analyzing you. She just listened and asked you how you were feeling about everything. She helped you adjust to this new life on the mainland and taught you new coping strategies that didn’t involve getting into fights or arguing with the cops. She helped you through your anxiety about starting a new school and making new friends. She even prescribed you some anxiety meds that helped with your nightmares and panic attacks.

Both Maria and Luis drive you to your therapy appointment. You silently question why the both of them felt the need to accompany you to your appointment. You mentally list all the reasons as to why they both would want to come when usually it’s just one or the other. You’re too afraid to ask, thinking they’re about to drop a bomb on you and send you back to the island. You don’t want to hear it, procrastinating the inevitable for as long as possible. 

When Dr. Hildegard greets you in the waiting room, she waves not only you but your foster parents as well into her office. The three of you take a seat on the brown leather couch in front of her chair. You awkwardly glance between your therapist and your foster parents, trying to read the room. You dig your nails into the skin of your hand to keep yourself calm, focusing on the slight stinging pain it leaves you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. She takes notice of your fidgeting hands and smiles. “I know you must be confused and anxious right now. But Maria and Luis have something they want to ask you and felt you would be more comfortable having this conversation with me present.”

“Okay...” You say wearily. 

Luis and Maria hold each other’s hands as they turn to look at you. You feel a little better when you see a smile on their face, making you think it isn’t going to be bad news. 

“Y/N, how would feel about officially being a part of our family?”

You glance between your therapist and your foster parents and tilt your head in confusion. “I don’t understand...”

“Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. “Maria and Luis would like to adopt you.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Meanwhile, back at the Outer Banks, JJ is getting ready to leave his house to make the last ferry to the mainland. He had to pick up another shift to afford another boat ride and a date for tonight, which left him racing against the clock.

Someone knocks on his front door. “Shit,” He curses and looks at the clock. 3:04. He needed to leave twenty minutes ago. He doesn’t have time to talk to anyone right now. He figures it’s his dad’s probation officer or druggie looking for money. So he ignores it so he can find his wallet. 

But the knocking persists. 

“Fuck,” JJ grunts and storms to the front door. “He’s not here -”

JJ freezes as he rips the door open. He didn’t know who he was going to find, but he definitely wasn’t expecting his dead best friend to be standing on his door step. 

John B smirks up at his shocked reaction. “Hey, stud. Miss me?”

JJ’s brain is doing flips inside his skull, knocking around with so many questions and curses and phrases and shouts. But with that is the immense excitement and relief that takes over his entire body. 

JJ jumps on him and wraps his arms around his best friend’s shoulders. Tears inevitably prick his eyes and he physically holds onto John B. He’s in utter disbelief. He never thought he would get this opportunity again. To see and hold his best friend - the best friend that’s supposed to be dead. 

“Wow. Who knew JJ Maybank could get so emotional?” John B jokes, trying to hide his own tears through his laugh. 

JJ removes himself from John B and shoves him back by the shoulders lightly. He wipes his upper lips with the back of his hand and sniffles back the rest of his tears. “Shut up, bro.” JJ narrows his eyes at the dead man in front of him and asks, “What the fuck happened? Where’s Sarah? Is she -”

"Sarah’s fine. We’re trying to lay low right now. No one knows we’re back.”

“What -”

“Look, I know you’re confused and there’s so much I need to tell you guys, but first I need to see my sister.” John B says with a sweet grin on his lips at the mention of his sister. He was most excited to see her - his first best friend and partner in crime. “Is she here?” JJ’s face falls at the mention of Y/N because he doesn’t know how John B is going to take the news that she’s no longer on the island. John B notices JJ’s hesitation and immediately get’s worried. “Where’s Y/N, JJ?”

“She’s not here.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You trail behind Maria and Luis as they unlock the front door to their house. The car ride home was awkwardly silent. You didn’t know what to say.

“Oh...” You said. You weren’t expecting that. You thought they’d be telling you the complete opposite. Yet, you didn’t know how to feel about their proposition. 

Maria and Luis looked at Dr. Hildegard for some insight or ice breaker since you froze up on the spot. You looked back down at your hand and pressed your nails even harder into your skin, leaving half crescent moons indented in your palm. 

Dr. Hildegard kept her calm smile and said softly, “Why don’t Y/N and I speak alone and I’ll grab you guys at the end?”

Maria and Luis, although a little disappointed by your reaction, agreed and stepped out of the room.

When the two of you were alone, Dr. Hildegard asked, “How are you feeling right now, Y/N?”

“I uh...” You stammered. “I don’t know. Shocked, I guess.”

“Usually when kids in foster care are offered adoption, they’re excited. Do you like living with Maria and Luis?”

“Yeah, they’re great. It’s just...” The last time someone offered to take you in as part of their family, it didn’t end well. It changed your life for the worst, you lost your only living family member left, and is the reason why you were here today. Although foster care isn’t that much different, you didn’t expect to stay with Maria and Luis past 18 years old. 

“Rebuilding a sense of trust can be difficult after past traumas. But taking those necessary steps, of letting new people in your life, can help you over those humps.”

“Why don’t you get ready for volleyball practice? I’ll take you there when you’re ready,” Luis says as the three of you walked inside. 

You nod silently and quickly hide in your room. You fall back on your bed that suddenly feels different than it did this morning. Like a reminder that it didn’t belong to you.

But maybe it could. 

You get changed for volleyball in a pair of spandex and a t shirt. When you close the drawer, something falls on your dresser, catching your attention. 

You pick up the fallen picture frame of you, John B, and the rest of the Pogues on Memorial Day Weekend. Kie had taken a selfie with all of you making silly faces at the camera in the middle of the marsh. That day always brings back amazing memories for you. Oh how you wished you could have another day like that. 

You stare a little longer at John B in that photo. What would he say if he was with you right now? Would he say yes to Maria and Luis like he did to Ward? Or would he encourage you to be more careful about who you trust with your life?

Maria knocks on your door and says, “You ready, sweetheart?” 

You place the frame back on the dresser and walk out into the hall to meet her. “Yes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

“So this couple....” John B says as he follows JJ off the ferry on the mainland. 

“Maria and Luis,” JJ says. On the way here, he told John B everything. About how horrendous your life was after John B “died.” How Ward treated you like a prisoner. How you practically begged Cheryl to help you. How you ended up on the mainland with a lovely married couple. 

“Are they...nice?”

JJ shrugs. “They seem like good people. You can tell they don’t like me around, but that might just be because they associate me with all the bad shit that happened to us because of Ward.”

“Does she like it here?” John B says as he takes in his new surroundings. As he and JJ walk towards your neighborhood, which isn’t too far from the ferry, he thinks about what your life could become here. Nice neighborhoods, friendly towns. It’s definitely better than the Cut. But it wasn’t home. 

“She’s learning to, I think,” JJ answers honestly. “She doesn’t like being so far away from the Pogues.”

“Yeah, I can understand the feeling,” John B says. Although it was nice to have Sarah around while they were gone, he couldn’t help but feel like a giant chunk of his heart was missing. And that was the Pogues. 

“This is it,” JJ says as they reach the end of a short driveway on the outskirts of town. A two story baby blue home with white shutters and a rose bush. Bigger than the houses on the Cut and smaller than the houses on Figure Eight. 

“This is where she’s been staying?” John B asks. Something swarms inside his brain. He doesn’t know if it’s betrayal or jealousy. 

“Yup,” JJ says, popping the ‘p’, “Her room is on the side.”

JJ knocks on the front door and looks down at his watch while he waits. Somehow, he managed to be about ten minutes early. Probably because of John B’s hustle to find his sister as soon as possible. 

Luis opens the door with a friendly grin that quickly falters when he sees who accompanies JJ. 

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Morales. Is Y/N, here?”

Luis looks between the boys and inhales a deep breath. He knows John B from the pictures on the News, the stories in the paper, and the cries of his name when Y/N was terrorized with nightmares in the beginning of her stay. 

Although the adoption process just started, he and his wife felt like they were finally forming a family-like bond with Y/N. Dr. Hildegard suggested starting over would be in Y/N’s best interest, encouraging new friendships, joining extracurricular activities at school, staying away from the Outer Banks for a while. Luis and Maria made an exception for JJ, seeing how happy he truly made Y/N. But they never expected to see John B. 

And he didn’t know what that meant for his family. 

John B notices Luis’s hesitation and politely holds out his hand. “I’m John Booker Routledge. Y/N’s brother.” 

Luis reluctantly shakes his hand, although apprehensive, never rude. He coughs awkwardly and looks back at JJ without saying a word to John B. “Tonight’s not a good night -”

“What do you mean? Sunday’s our day. She didn’t tell me she was busy -”

“I’m sorry, son. Maybe next week.” Luis shuts the door before JJ or John B could argue. 

John B knocks again and even rings the doorbell. “Mr. Morales! Hey! Come back!”

“Here,” JJ pulls John B by his arm. “Come here.”

JJ and John B round to the side of the house where your window sits right under the middle point of the roof. JJ find’s the nearest and smallest rock and tosses it up at the glass of your window. 

“What are you? Fucking, Romeo?” John B glares at his friend.

“You have a better idea?” JJ glares right back. “Trust me. I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Morales to call the cops if we kept banging on his door. They’re pretty protective of Y/N, which means they’ve never been truly fond of me.”

“Maybe she’s not here,” John B suggests. 

“She’s always -”

JJ freezes when he hears a car pull into the driveway. They both look at each other before walking back to the front of the house. JJ notices Maria first when she steps out of the car. She has a smilier reaction to John B as her husband which makes John B bounce on his toes nervously. 

You don’t see him at first, with your back turned to grab your bag. Then you spot him immediately. 

You stiffen when you see both JJ and....your dead brother standing on the lawn.  Suddenly your mouth feels dry and your heart is beating the crap out of your ribs. 

“Y/N...” Maria says wearily. 

“Hey, Dimples,” John B says with a smile, using the nickname he and your father use to call you when you were younger due to the deep pits in your cheeks when you smiled. 

Your eyes shift to JJ who looks at you with pinched eye brows. He was expecting a different reaction. One where you run into your brother’s arms and squeeze the shit out of him in a tight hug. 

But instead, you were feeling numb. You never expected to be face to face with your brother ever again. You convinced yourself he was really dead because holding onto hope that he was still alive was slowly killing you and even holding you back. You needed closure and that closure was accepting the truth that John B was dead and to never be found.

Yet, here he is. Standing and breathing and watching your reaction with a hurt expression. 

“Y/N...” Maria says again and lightly touches your shoulder. 

“I’m fine,” You finally speak, flinching at the way your throat feels scratchy. You swallow and turn to Maria and offer a polite grin. “I’ll be right in.”

“I don’t know...”

“Please, Maria,” You say, this time a tad more forceful but not rude. 

Maria hesitantly nods and blocks herself away with the front door. 

“I - I don’t - “ You huff. “How?”

“The Phantom...” John B licks his lips nervously. “Capsized...and Sarah and I...well...a shipment boat found us. Took us right to the Bahamas.”

“The Bahamas?” You repeat, taking two steps closer to him. 

“Yes. There’s so much I have to tell you -”

“Like the part where you couldn’t call?” You say accusingly. 

John B sighs. He should have expected it, but he didn’t prepare for it. He thought you’d be happy to see him, but now he’s realizing how hurt and confused he’s truly left you.

“It’s a long story -”

“Yeah, I’d expect the summary of your last few months to be a long one.” You look at JJ. “Did you know about this?”

JJ shakes his head. “He showed up on my way here.”

John B sighs. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t find a way to contact you, but we couldn’t! We didn’t want the cops realizing we were alive and we were looking for the gold -”

“The gold?” You laugh humorlessly and your hands run up your head to your scalp. Your fingers tug on the roots of your hair in frustration. “The gold’s gone!”

“It’s not! If you would just listen -”

“I don’t want to listen, John B! Because I don’t care about the gold. That gold took everything from me!” You yell as tears begin to build in your eyes, thinking back to what happened last summer. “I lost Dad, you, my home... I can only see my boyfriend once a week. And I was treated like a prisoner in the house of a murderer!”

“I know that it couldn’t have been easy for you but -”

“No. You have no idea what it was like for me when you were gone. Because you weren’t there!” You cry. “You left! You were living it up in the Bahamas, searching for gold, while the rest of us cried over your death and suffered the consequences!” Tears were now silently streaming down both John B’s cheeks and JJ’s as they watched you break down. “I couldn't sleep for weeks. I barely ate. Ward locked me in a room so I couldn’t tell anyone about what he did.”

“I’m sorry,” John B says. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Back home -”

“Home?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I have a home.”

“This isn’t your home,” John B says defensively. 

“It has been. For the past few months. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” You say with a glare. You look at the house behind him, noticing Maria and Luis snooping through the curtains of the window. You think back on what happened today and the options you had. At first it was a hard decision to make and now it’s damn right near impossible. “Maria and Luis offered to adopt me.” You say honestly.

John B inhales sharply and JJ furrows his brows. 

“What?” John B says.

“I didn’t give them an answer yet. But this is an opportunity to start over.”

John B glares at you. “Think about your family!”

“I am!” 

You suddenly feel exhausted and weak, like the day has lasted over twenty four hours. Your head begins to throb and your neck aches. 

You sigh, “Look, I’m happy you’re all right and safe and unharmed, from the looks of it. But...I just need some time. Okay?”

“Y/N...”

“Please, John B?” You’re practically begging. 

John B sighs and reluctantly nods his head at your request. At the end of the day, you owe him nothing and he owes you everything.

“Okay,” He agrees. 

You walk past him without giving him a hug or anything, afraid you’ll break down in sobs and follow his lead back to the Outer Banks. But you need to be strong and figure out what it is you need in life, tired of following the path that always leaves you broken and alone. 

You kiss JJ’s cheek as you walk by him. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

JJ squeezes your hand before you disappear into your house. When the door shuts behind you, you slid down it onto the floor, finally letting your sobs wrack through your body. Maria and Luis run to comfort you to the best of their ability, but they don’t know how to truly help you. 

Later that night, over a cup of tea, you tell Maria and Luis everything. From start to finish. How your dad was obsessed with finding the Royal Merchant, to the compass, to Ward taking you in, finding out he murdered your father and covered up Sheriff Peterkin’s murder by using your own brother. 

Maria and Luis glance at each other nervously. They know how important family is, which is why they want you a part of theirs so badly. But they never want to take you away from one you already have and love. 

“I think you should think long and hard about what you want over the next couple of days,” Luis says. “And we’ll help you in any way we can.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, wiping away your tears with a napkin. “I know you didn’t sign up for this.”

“Honey,” Maria says, wiping another tear with her thumb. “We don’t want you to worry about that. This changes nothing for us, okay?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The next day at dinner, Maria and Luis sit you down and offer eager grins. Just like they did at your last therapy appointment. 

“Y/N...we have something we’d like to discuss with you,” Luis says.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

With the help of JJ, you meet John B at the Wreck with the others for a civilized conversation. Now that you’ve had a few days to think and calm down, you’re able to really appreciate how lucky you are to have John B back in your life. 

When you see him standing in the middle of the restaurant, you run to him and squeeze him around his waist as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You cry into his T shirt, telling him how sorry you are for your outburst. 

“It’s okay,” John B cries into your hair. “You don’t have to be sorry. I should be the one apologizing.” 

You pull away and wipe away your tears. “I think we’ve both been through hell and back and did what he had to do to survive. Neither of us should apologize.”

After giving the other Pogues a hug, the five of you sit down and recap each other’s last three months. John B tells you about his time in the Bahamas, how Sarah is laying low until she gets her shit figured out with her own family, and you describe life at a new town and a new school.

“It’s weird. There’s no division. No Kooks vs. Pogues. I don’t know if I like it or miss my enemies,” You say.

When the five of you are ready to say your goodbyes, you pull John b aside and say, “Actually, I think there’s a couple of people I’d like you to meet.” John B furrows his brows and follows you to a park where Maria and Luis are waiting at a picnic table.

When they see the two of you approaching, they stand and reach out to shake John B’s hand, officially introducing themselves and apologizing for being rude a week ago. 

“It’s okay. I understand,” John B says. “Thank you for taking care of my sister.”

“Pleasure’s all ours,” Luis smiles. “We’re lucky to be able to meet you.”

“Y/N’s told us such great things,” Maria adds. 

You roll your eyes playfully and look at John B to read his face. He seems to be enjoying himself. 

“That’s a first,” He even jokes and looks your way.

“There’s actually something we wanted to ask you,” Luis says and takes his wife’s hand like he did at Dr. Hildegard’s. He looks at you to see if you want to explain. “Y/N...”

You take a deep breath and face your brother. “I have agreed to be adopted by Maria and Luis.”

“But -” 

“Let me finish,” You cut John B off. “We talked about it and the three of us are going to move back to the Outer Banks to be closer to you and the Pogues.”

“But...” Maria says like a song with an excited grin.

You mirror her smile and say, “But...Maria and Luis want to know if you would like to a be a part of their family too?”

John B’s brows jump up in surprise. “Seriously?”

“I know it’s a big decision,” Luis says.

“And if you need time, that’s fine,” You say. “But, I think this will be good for the both of us.”

John B looks between you and your foster parents, who he can tell care about you greatly. Of course he wants that too, but just like you were, he’s nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He says softly as to not offend the couple in front of him.

“Yes,” You nod. “I’m sure.”

John B inhales a deep breath and nods. “Okay. I’m in.”

[d0llpie]

prompt 16 ;; in your req rules you said this was okay so i hope its fine :,) could i have oikawa, iwaizumi and tsukishima finding their s/o's fresh (or old if you prefer) sh scars? the way it ends should be fluff lol, im only asking because this would bring me comfort </3 either way i love your writing ur amazing<3

Self Harm Comfort

oikawa x reader, iwaizumi x reader, tsukkishima x reader

Warnings: self harm mention, blood mention, this topic is very triggering so please do not read if uncomfortable, i add tags that can be blacklisted for this topic !

a/n: hi love, i hope this brought you some comfort, my messages are always open, have a beautiful day <333

prompt: “i know i’m not what you signed up for”

wc: 1.9k

Oikawa

~ You hadn’t been dating Oikawa very long, he never questioned why you always wore long sleeves and honestly he didn’t think much of it

~ You were proud to say that you hadn’t self harmed since your relationship had begun, he was always doting and caring while also being fun and a distraction for you. You loved him with all your heart and knew he loved you too

~ You knew you couldn’t hide them from him forever but you didn’t realise he was coming over to surprise you, wanting to take you on a date

You’d been in your head all day, you couldn’t help it, your thoughts spiraled and you were back in that dark place you’d been so happy to be out of for so long. You hated that you resorted to this but coping this way became to familiar that before you knew it, you found yourself on the bathroom floor, blade in one hand and bloody tissues in the other. Tears were rolling down your cheeks but you stared blankly ahead of you, you didn’t feel any better, your thoughts turning to tooru, what would he think? This only made your tears come out faster, shame creeping up on you, your thoughts spiraling darker and deeper until you were stuck overthinking and rolling your sleeve higher.

You didn’t hear Oikawa open the door or walk towards the bathroom, you did hear his gasp in the door frame as he dropped to his knees in front of you, cradling you in his arms, wetting your shirt with his own tears. “Y/n, why didn’t you tell me? What happened? What are you doing?” you were too shocked to answer, scared that this was the end of your relationship and you’d be trapped again with your thoughts, alone. “i-“ you tried to speak but it came out in a choked sob and Oikawa shushed you, pulling you to sit on the edge of the bathtub while he fetched your med kit. He was silent cleaning your wounds, occasional sniffles let out which only make you overthink even more. Once he bandaged your arm you held his wrist still.

“Tooru i wanted to tell you, i hadn’t done this since before we started dating, i’ve been doing well i dont know what happened and i know i’m not what you signed up for, i’m sorry i’m really sorry it’s just-“ “you are exactly what i signed up for. I want you, all of you, i just wish you felt comfortable enough with me to tell me, this scares me y/n, i need you and i’m sorry that i was to ignorant to realise how you were feeling..” you cupped his cheek “no tooru baby you don’t need to apologise..” “you don’t need to either y/n, i’m going to help you, please tell me when you feel like this...i don’t know what to do but i’m not leaving. i’m staying right beside you okay?” you nodded, tearing up again and burying your face in his chest “why are you crying my love?” you lifted your head, pressing your lips against his slowly “i love you tooru, i’m s-“ “don’t you dare apologise, i love you too.” you giggled softly, sniffling before returning back to his chest.

“C’mon y/n, let’s watch your favourite movie and i’ll let you braid my hair to distract you hmm?” you smiled up at him, you both looked a mess, red puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks but you were there in each other’s arms, safe and in love.

Iwaizumi

~ Iwaizumis love language was touch, it reassured him to feel you against him and showed you how much he loved you when he would absentmindedly trace patterns on your skin

~ He always had to have some form of physical contact with you, holding pinkies in crowded spaces, holding your hips while talking to people

~ It shouldn’t have surprised you that he’d eventually feel them

He’d had a long day, the team wasn’t listening to him and all he wanted to do was come home and fall asleep on your chest while you played with his hair. He hated staying late training the team but he knew you were going to be there tonight, waiting for him to come home. It was so domestic, coming back to see you in his apartment, wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of his boxers, the thought kept him going throughout the day and drive home.

Iwa was coming come home late again so you decided to take a shower and head to bed, you got out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body as you made your way into the bedroom to grab one of iwas hoodies. Iwaizumi walked into the bedroom to see you in just a towel, he smiled at you and wrapped his arms around you, breathing in deeply. You froze underneath him, did he see? would he think you were weak? disgusting? you tried calming your breathing but Iwaizumi obviously noticed your state and stepped back, running his hands over your shoulders and down your arms “what’s wrong?” he froze when his arms reached your forearms, running his fingers over the raised flesh so he knew he wasn’t imagining it. Your breathing only sped up, your throat felt like it was constricting. “y/n...” he was angry, not at you, at himself. You’d been together for so long and he never realised? He used to find the fact that you only wore oversized hoodies adorable, seeing you drown in the material warmed his heart, now it made him sick. Did you not want him to see? Did you not trust him? Why didn’t he notice?

“Ouch Haji..” your squeak shook him out of his thoughts and he released your wrists, not realising how tight his grip was getting. He then noticed your wide eyes and shallow breaths and realised you were having a panic attack “y/n-shit. i’m so sorry here, breathe with me baby okay?” he held your hands and led your breathing until you calmed down. You changed into one of his shirts and some shorts before sitting next to him on the bed. “Baby, please tell me none of those are new.” he pulled you onto him so you were sitting on him “they aren’t, i was going to tell you i was just...ashamed? i’m not sure it’s complicated, i know i’m not what you signed up for..” he held your arm out gently, tracing the scars with his fingers before pressing your wrist against his lips. He kissed along each of your scars, mumbling how much he loved you while a few stray tears escaped his eyes.

“If you ever feel that way again, i want you to tell me first okay? I love you, you’re so strong and beautiful, you’re my home okay? i need you and i want you to be able to rely on me too.” you nodded before kissing him, smiling against his lips “thank you haji” you began playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and he nuzzled his face into your neck, picking you up and lying you down fully under the covers “you don’t have to hide them around me y’know” you hummed, playing with his hair, kissing his forehead as he peppered kisses along your jaw “goodnight haji”.

Tsukkishima

~ you don’t know what exactly led you to feeling this way again, but you were back to feeling numb, wanting more than anything to feel

~ although you knew better, you still made you way to the bathroom, blade in hand like you were on autopilot

~ you hadn’t told tsukkishima yet, too afraid of what he’d say, what he’d do. He was rarely serious as it was and you didn’t feel the need to burden him with this

Tsukkishima wasn’t dumb. He was smart, he noticed when you were uncomfortable in public and would take you out of there without you needing to express your discomfort. He noticed advertisements for that show you mentioned a few weeks ago on the back of a bus. He noticed the clothes you wore and how you fiddled with the edges of your sleeves. He noticed the empty look behind your eyes sometimes and the fake smiles you’d send his way when he asked if you were feeling okay. He hated it. He felt so powerless, he wasn’t certain but he was almost positive and he wanted to help you but he didn’t know how.

You weren’t answering your phone so Tsukki let himself inside, making his way up to your room only to see your phone on your bed but you nowhere to be found. He walked down the hallway and noticed the light on in the bathroom.

You looked up from the floor, hearing a knock on the bathroom door. “Yes? I’m in here.” your heart leapt into your throat when the door knob started rattling and you quickly sat against the door. “Y/N? move, what are you doing on the floor?” You froze at the sound of Keis voice “Kei? what are you doing here?” you tried to push harder against the door but he pushed it far enough to let himself into the bathroom. You had rolled your sleeves back down but he saw the bloodied blade on the counter. “Take off the jacket” you rolled your eyes “I’m not in the mood right now Kei” he moved towards you “y/n.” the sad tone in his voice made your lip quiver, he knew. You slowly took your jacket off and looked away from him as you started to tear up “i know i’m not what you signed up for but please-“”dumbass, why didn’t you tell me...” you looked up at him to find him staring at the cuts, you tried to speak but you couldn’t.

Tsukki moved to the medicine cabinet and took out some bandages and alcohol wipes, cleaning and dressing the wounds while you cried softly. “y/n, i’m not leaving okay? you don’t need to cry, i’m here.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and he hugged your waist, burying his nose in your hair. “Kei i’m sorry i didn’t tell you i just didn’t want you to break up with me..” “i’ve known for a while now, i’m not mad but i will be if you feel like this again and don’t tell me. I’m you boyfriend, you’re one of the few people i can stand and i’m not gonna have you thinking i don’t care okay?” you nodded at him, burying your face in his chest “i love you kei, i promise i’ll talk to you more..” he rubbed your back soothingly “good, dumbass. i love you too..”

[lilcomfyfics]

Fredrick Chilton x male reader

Warnings: hospital setting, mentions of abel gideon, unprofessional nurse making assumptions, loopy chilton

Summary: A long time friend of Dr. Chilton's gets a call after his run in with Abel Gideon. Is this the push they both needed?

_______________________________________________

Dr. L/N was at his home when he received a phone call. Checking the caller ID, he instantly knew something was amiss. It was one of Fredrick's acquaintances who he had been briefly introduced to a couple months prior. With his anxiety already flaring up, he answers the phone only to be told the news that his long-time friend had been gutted by one of his former patients. The caller told him when and where he would be allowed to see him. Everything felt too quiet after the call ended. The nagging space was filled with pacing, the tapping of feet, pacing some more, attempting to read, and finally a sigh. How could he stay calm and patient in this situation? Really, he's doing everything he can to avoid thinking about how bad he's got it for Fredrick. The thought of losing him hurt him so much. Far more than any friend should feel. It downright broke his heart. Even calling him just his friend left a horrible taste in his mouth. There had always been this unspoken thing between them and this made that bag carefully holding all these feelings snap from the tension. They have been playing this game for long enough, the doctor decides as he grabs his keys to go see his long-time crush at the first opportunity.

There he was lying broken in his hospital bed. Looking far from the Dr. Chilton everyone knew and well, he wasn't known for being very likeable. Despite that fact, there were a few cards littered in his hospital room. More importantly, a very anxious man waiting was for him to regain consciousness. As soon as he had exited his house, the memories came flooding back. All those almost-kisses and lingering glances made his heart ache. On the way to the hospital, his mind drifted to the first time they met. Both in med school at the time, Fredrick thought y/n didn't notice his staring but he definitely did. He thought it was adorable and if he hadn't already been in a relationship he would have broken the ice first. Might have even asked him on a date on the spot. When they finally did speak, his girlfriend had arrived to interrupt the conversation which made Fredrick deflate right then and there. Neither had made any move in all these years and it was extremely frustrating on both ends. They'd get together for dinner sometimes and sometimes even end up cuddling on Chilton's couch. More than once they had been locked in a tension-filled moment and almost kissed each other but Fredrick always pulled away. He was always doing that, pushing him away when there was any chance he could be rejected. It was too much for his lonely heart to bear. This was his only friend after all. What if things got awkward? He would rather suffer crushing on him for eternity than lose his friendship. It's safe to say that y/n was gonna have to make the first move and after a scare like that? He can't wait another second.

Finally, green eyes blinked open with a groan. Everything that happened came rushing back to him. All of his emotions overwhelmed him and caused him to panic. As Fredrick is fighting a panic attack, his heart monitor picked up loudly. A nurse came in and checked on him. After being brought out of his panicked state, he finally noticed the other person in the room. His long-time crush was curled up in an uncomfortable chair and had slept through the commotion. Dr. Chilton's heart skipped a beat and the nurse followed his gaze. She wore a satisfied expression as if her suspicions had been confirmed. He shot her a glare, which she ignored, before informing him that his 'boyfriend' had been here the whole time.

"It's no wonder he slept through that, he's been waiting a long time. He's definitely going to kick himself when he realizes he wasn't awake for this." She jokes but Fredrick can't take his eyes off him.

The nurse left quietly after double-checking everything. Chilton relaxed a bit more and stared up at the plain ceiling. He really didn't want his friend to see him like this. His thoughts about being weak and pathetic came flooding in like an all too familiar tide. He clenched his jaw and dared to look at the sleeping man again. All the frustration washed away when he saw that the man had repositioned himself in his sleep. Fredrick could see his face much clearer now. The clear indications of exhaustion caught him by surprise. He pushed away even more thoughts that were just remnants of his upbringing and allowed himself to feel loved. Even if just for a moment, he allowed himself to feel cared about.

He remembered how entranced he was when he first met the man. They were in a lecture at university and the man had sat a row or two ahead. Dr. Chilton silently thanked whatever god was out there that he didn't notice him staring for weeks before gathering up the nerve to approach him. Bitterly, he's reminded that when he finally did get up the courage, his crush's girlfriend had appeared to steal him away. He shook those memories away, feeling better after reminding himself that he was the one who had his attention in the end. He was the one who would end up cuddling with him on his couch some nights. He was the one who got to see his handsome features up close. Even if he backed out of kissing him every time out of fear, his friend didn't seem to judge him. Truthfully they hadn't really talked about any of this and it made Fredrick unbelievably nervous. He felt like either way he was a burden. If there was something real between them then he's been holding it up with his anxieties. If it's all just imagined, he's made his best and only friend extremely uncomfortable. He sighed and winced at his injuries. How could he ever love him now anyway? He will undoubtedly have a very noticeable scar after this. Still, he recalled when he had no one else to celebrate with when he got the job as head of the BSHCI and he called this cutie. He sounded genuinely happy for him and immediately came over to celebrate. He'll never forget how amazing that day was.

Slowly uncurling himself and sighing, the man opens his eyes. Fredrick is staring at him like he's an expensive painting on the wall which causes him to blush. He's never looked at him like that so openly before. It caught him off guard. Maybe this really is the right time, the man thought hopefully.

"You're awake." the man remarked with a grin. "It's so like you to wake up the one time I was asleep." he teases.

Fredrick scoffed but stayed silent trying to cover up how much the action irritated his injury. This prompts the man to gently put his hand over Fredrick's and ask if he's alright. His heart monitor speeds up and as if on queue the nurse walks in. Seeing them holding hands, she's now completely certain her unprofessional assumptions were correct. Fredrick instinctively pushes the man away out of embarrassment. Sadly, he's far too used to it at this point to complain.

"Good to see you both awake for once." She joked, nodding toward the newly awoken man. "Now you can stop all that pacing, right? Your boyfriend is gonna be fine."

The remark made Fredrick simultaneously overjoyed and annoyed. He got butterflies but how dare this nurse be so unprofessional! She can't just make assumptions like that! Yet they both waited for the other to object and neither spoke up.

Only after the nurse left were they able to meet each other's eyes. Both unsure but hopeful as they tried to read the other's face. The man broke the silence but neither would break the stare.

"There's something I need to tell you." Fredrick tried everything to smother the concoction of emotions he felt at hearing that. "When I got the call and heard about everything, it broke my heart to think I almost lost you. I'm sorry if this changes things between us but I can't pretend anymore. I love you, Freddy."

Happy tears threatened to run down the broken man's cheeks as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing. Was he dreaming? It had to be the pain medicine, right? If that wasn't, the way his own confession slipped out effortlessly definitely was. He even admitted to having feelings for him before they ever spoke.

"Oh, was that what all the staring was about?" the man snickered causing the injured man to jolt more than he should have.

"YOU KNEW?!" Chilton exclaims in horror.

He just laughs lightly in response which causes Chilton to huff with his own little smile. They fall into a comfortable silence. Both hopeful with a weight lifted off their shoulders. They had questions and concerns about their future together but those could wait for now. With his hand holding Fredrick's, all his worries melted away. They would get through this, together.

[hellowkatey]

it's late night writing hours my guys. so here's a little bit of what happens before and after Echo gets absolutely wrecked by a cafeteria tray in Aftermath

2.6k words ~ CW: PTSD/panic attacks/medical trauma

For a glorious moment, Omega revels in the chaos she had started. She isn't quite sure what foodstuffs make up the greasy loafs that are served in the trooper's mess hall. Whatever they are, they make a satisfying splat noise when hitting armor, and get quite a bit of air when thrown.

Now, the revolting loafs are sailing through the air from every direction. Omega ducks behind Hunter as he decks one of the clones clear across the table. His other hand reaches back to lightly pat her upper arm, as though to make sure she's still there. Her heart soars at the gesture, and she grins as wide as her face allows while jumping on the table to chuck another handful of food at a trooper winding up to punch Echo. It smacks him in the cheek, distracting him long enough for Echo to land a left hook of his own.

Crosshair is still seated, ducking out of the way of projectiles while continuing to shovel food into his mouth. Omega watches with great amusement as Echo is kicked backwards— straight onto Crosshair's tray. His face begins cycling through the stages of grief, and ends on anger. She can't help but giggle at him slamming his fist on the table and whipping his ruined tray like a frisbee, hitting three separate troopers in the process. Though he seemed hesitant to engage earlier, he lunges at a clone that has Tech in a headlock, sending all three of them in a tangled heap.

Omega's adrenaline is pumping, heartbeat in her ears as she takes a running start and throws herself onto the shoulders of a clone. The room blurs as he whirls her around, hands trying grab her small arms. When he can't seem to whip her off, the clone suddenly bends forward at the hips, bucking Omega down onto the table. He obviously didn't expect her to be so light because she slips from his grasp and slides toward the end of the table, the air getting pushed out of her lungs. She lies still for a few seconds, breathing heavily.

What she's above makes her adrenaline high suddenly vanish. In the window that overlooks the cafeteria, Lama Su glares down at the food fight. Standing next to him is a military officer— high ranking by the looks of him. He sneers at the flying food and the troopers, saying something to Lama Su with his lip curled in disgust. She's seen his expression before on the faces of others that come to tour the facility. People revolted or offended by the very idea of clones. They're the type of people that seem little too interested in the decommissioning process. Omega has not idea who this is, but he looks official and that gives her a bad feeling.

With her breath back in her chest she rolls to her stomach just in time to see Echo sitting on the floor in the midst of the fighting. He also stares up at the officer and Lama Su, disgust across his own pale face. Does he know him? she wonders.

But as he is distracted by their spectators, the clone he knocked to the ground picks up an abandoned tray and raises it above his head.

"Echo, watch out!" Tech yells, reaching out to the cybernetic clone, but getting tackled to the ground before he can do anything. Omega's eyes widen in horror as the trooper puts his entire strength behind the tray as it swings, slamming into the side of Echo's head.

"Echo, no!" Omega screams as he pitches to the side, eyes already closed and mind dead to the world before he even hits the ground. She quickly presses a button on her commlink that alerts medical to her location and jumps off the table to weave through the troopers that have been momentarily distracted by the jarring sound of a metal tray hitting cybernetic implants.

Tech has fought his way to Echo's side, two fingers pressed against his neck as he yells out his name. The rest of the Bad Batch has taken notice of their fallen brother now, and suddenly the entire atmosphere turns serious. Wrecker isn't laughing anymore as he picks up clones and literally throws them out of the way to clear a path. Hunter and Crosshair, who were displaced to the other side of the caf, now run across the top of the tables, landing punches and throwing trays without breaking stride. Tech has hoisted Echo over his shoulder as the rest of their squad form a protective circle facing outward. Omega slips behind Hunter, unable to take her eyes off Echo's unresponsive face.

"We need to get him out of here," Tech says, his eyes flickering to every one of the cafeteria entrances. Probably doing a calculation of some sort for the quickest way to the med wing.

"Medical is on their way, we can meet them in the corridor," Omega offers, but the others don't seem to process that she's even there. She cowers at Wrecker's side, anxiety that they're upset with her eating away at her heart.

"Keep tight, let's move," Hunter says, and they all seem to know exactly what that means. Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair flank Tech on both sides and at his back as they run toward the exit.

They nearly pass the medical droid rushing toward the caf with a stretcher.

"Wait!" she yells, louder this time. Even if they're mad at her, at least she can try and make it up to them. This time, they actually listen to her. "This stretcher is for Echo,"

The boys look at one another and then seem to accept this. Tech gently places his unconscious brother on the stretcher as Nala Se comes rushing around the corner. The medical droid wastes no time and performing a quick scan.

"CT-1409 preliminary assessment: head trauma resulting in loss of consciousness. Patient is stable but require further testing."

"Echo isn't going to like that," Wrecker mutters.

Nala Se's blank eyes flicker from the unconscious clone to a food-covered Omega a she comes to a stop at the foot of Echo's stretcher. The medical assistant can already tell she is in for a big lecture after this stunt.

"Take CT-1409 to the medical-wing," the Kaminoan scientist says in her airy voice. "Omega, assist in the transport."

Omega places her hand on the side of the stretcher, avoiding the hard gaze of her mistress. "Yes, Nala Se."

The Kaminoan now looks at each of the others. "All clones involved in the cafeteria incident are required to be assessed for injuries," she says. "You will report to the lower level medical wing immediately."

A weak chorus of "Yes sirs," rings out and the Kaminoan continues down the hall toward the caf.

Omega starts pushing Echo's stretcher toward the medical wing, feeling the heavy footsteps of four shadows trailing behind her. Apparently a direct order wasn't enough for them.

"They won't let you guys in while he's getting tests run." Omega says while staring straight ahead. Looking at them now will fill her with too much shame.

"We're staying with him," Hunter replies as-a-matter-of-factly.

"You'll get in trouble."

"We're already in trouble, what's breaking one more rule?" Wrecker says.

Omega suddenly stops, forcing herself to look at them. They all have varying degrees of worry etched across the faces. She locks eyes with Hunter, hoping she can at least get him on her side. The last thing she wants is to be the reason they get in trouble again. "At least go get your check-up and clean the grease off your armor. If you show up with me, covered in food, then you'll have to change into medical gowns... and I'll get in trouble." Hunter's eyes soften slightly, but she can still see his hesitation. He doesn't want to get her in trouble, but this is also one of his brothers she's telling them to leave. She knows how deep loyalty runs for these men.  "I promise I won't leave his side until you come to see him."

"We'll be back in ten minutes," Hunter says after a heavy sigh. "If he wakes up before then, comm us."

"You got it," Omega nods in understanding. Though the others don't seem too happy about leaving Echo, he gives him a pointed look and their shoulders slouch with compliance. Omega starts pushing the stretcher again and is halfway down the hall when Tech appears at her side.

"Echo does not do very well with medical tests," he explains, staring at Echo's prone figure rather than directly at Omega. "I recommend, from experience, to wait until he is conscious and aware of what is being done to him before performing any procedures outside of contactless scans."

Her eyes wander over the complex configuration of wires and tubes that wrap around Echo's head and body. She looks back to Tech, nodding.

"Thank you for telling me. I will do what I can to make sure he's okay."

Tech gives her a small smile, turning around, but then pausing. "Oh, and when he does wake, he might start swinging. So keep your distance and remove any possible projectiles." With that, he starts jogging after his brothers. She cannot tell if he was joking or not.

Omega lets out a shaky breath, holding back the urge to cry as she pushes Echo into the medical wing. AZ takes over as she ducks into the scrub room to change her soiled clothes.

Somehow trying to stand up for her friends has turned into one of them getting hurt— she didn't want that to happen she just... wanted to show them she was on their side. For a little while she did feel that incredible rush of belonging. But was it worth landing Echo in the medical bay?

Of course not. They'll never let me be one of them now.

It was dumb. Provoking a room full of troopers that already have it out for the Bad Batch was a thoughtless act. Nala Se is no doubt going to remind her of that and use it keep her sequestered from now on.

Omega emerges in fresh clothes as AZ is completing the brain scan. Echo is still unconscious.

"Is he gonna be alright, AZ?"

AZ's bug eyes always make him look like he's pitying whoever he's looking at. "CT-1409's"

"Echo," Omega interrupts him. "You can call him Echo."

The droid pauses, taking a moment to process that request.

"Patient CT-1409, a.k.a. Echo's scans are clear of skull fractures or bone contusions. My preliminary assessment is that he has sustained a mild concussion consistent with blunt force trauma. He will require a brain tissue scan to ensure there is no bleeding or clotting,"

"Good," Omega lets out a sigh of relief. "That's good."

"Your services will not be required further, Omega. You are free to return to your assigned duties."

She glares at the droid, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm staying, AZ. I promised the guys."

"But mistress Nala Se summoned you to the sub-level medical wing. You must go."

"No!" There's no way she's taking orders from a AZ. Even if he is her friend. "I'm staying here until he wakes up."

AZ shakes his head, his unexpressive droid face somehow looking disappointed. He hovers over to Echo to begin performing the tissue scan, and Omega goes to look for a blanket or something to make their patient more comfortable.

The distinct whirring of the scan is interrupted by a sharp gasp. Omega turns as Echo starts to flail.

"No! Get them off," he gasps, his arms swinging but hitting nothing. There's a clouded look in his panicked eyes as they frantically search the room.

"But my tests are not yet complete," the droid tries to explain while continuing to move closer. Omega is already running across the room, shoving AZ to the side.

"Echo, Echo, it's—" his unfocused gaze shifts from the corner filled with bacta tanks to her. "It's okay. It's me, Omega." His chest rises and falls as though he's been running for miles, and she raises her hands so he can clearly see them. "I understand." As his breathing slows, she realizes that AZ must have attached a heart and respiration monitor to Echo while she was changing. She slowly reaches down to pull them off of him. "I don't like being hooked up to their machines either."

A few brief memories float passively through her mind. Wires and needles and tubes coming from various places on her body. The sticky feeling of bacta on her skin and gathering between her fingers and toes. Silent tears streaming down her face every time she saw the instrument cart was full for the day.

Omega releases him from the monitors and looks up at him. Echo is still coming out of his panic, but he seems calmer now. He looks at her as though she has seven eyes and two noses, but at least he finally sees her.

"Hello CT-1409," AZ pipes up.

"His name is Echo," Omega reminds him.

"My name is AZ-34521189..." as he drones on with his serial identifier, Echo and Omega exchange glances. She offers him a comforting smile and though he doesn't really react, he does scoot himself further from AZ and closer to her, which is good enough for now. When AZ finishes, his body spins around on its axis, and Wrecker's voice suddenly rings out through the med wing.

"Ha! Told you he's alive!" The rest of the squad, now clean of grease, stroll in. "You owe me two credits," Wrecker says, jabbing a finger at Crosshair. They seem surprisingly relaxed, most of them nodding or even smiling at Omega as they gather around the foot of Echo's bed. The fact they even acknowledge her is unexpected.

AZ turns to the rest of them to give his assessment. In the mean time, Omega turns her attention back to Echo. His eyes aren't glazed over anymore but he still seems uneasy. Definitely uncomfortable sitting on a medical table. Omega has overheard the rumors of what happened on to him— how Echo was an ARC trooper that got captured and experimented on. It's obvious from his chemically bleached skin and the complex assortment of cybernetics that he's been through a certain kind of hell. But judging from how he reacted to a simple scan and heart monitor, she cannot imagine how bad it must have really been.

She decides to take the risk and lays her hand gently over his. His wide brown eyes look from the rest of his squad to her hand atop his, and then finally to her. Echo gives her an appreciative nod and a slight smile. Warmth fills her body again, stronger than it was when they were joining her in her food fight pursuits.

The young medical assistant looks to the others now, only to find Hunter has been ignoring AZ's grand reveal that they are genetically defective and is instead watching her. The sergeant's lips form a curious half-smile as he watches her pull her hand away from their injured brother. The giddy warmth in her chest builds even more. They aren't mad at her after all. In fact, she gets the feeling that they might even like her. Or, at least, acknowledge her existence-- which is progress from earlier.

Omega realizes that maybe grand gestures shouldn't be her approach in trying to get them to notice her. Maybe just showing them how much she truly cares about them is enough.

Definitely no more food fights... unless one of the others is the one to initiate it, of course. If that's the case, Omega will be the second one to throw the greasy Kamino caf loafs.

[lady-himbo]

Roommate Blues

Roommate!Ethan x F!Reader (platonic)

Reader isn’t doing great with COVID, college, and Christmas.

Word count: 1255

Warnings: cursing; hecka stress; mentions of coronavirus and travelling; panic/anxiety attacks; mentions of being nonverbal; mentions of ADHD; mentions of medication, forgetting to take medication, and medication effects

Notes: Despite this being the first written thing I’ve posted on this account, it’s purely self indulgent. It’s based almost entirely on my life situation right now, which is… dope. Also, the gif is mine. Please do not repost without credit.

“Goddamn it!” The sound of the space bar being slapped several times has Spencer lifting his head from his position on the living room couch next to her with a confused little tilt that flops his ears. Any other day, it would’ve been adorable, but she wasn’t having it. “What the motherfuck?!”

Spencer whines, pressing his nose into her wrist, as if telling her to take a deep breath. She almost accepts, but during her inhale, her browser refreshes just as her document loads to save, which crashes her computer.

Her scream of exasperation is so loud it carries into Ethan’s office. He’s blissfully unaware, his headphones snug over his ears as he chatters to himself, streaming a new game. Twitch chat, ever observant, picks it up before he does, and concerned messages start to flood in. He notices after a couple minutes, when chat has sufficiently worked itself up.

“You guys heard a sound? What was it?” He pushes his headphones off just as a muffled “FUUUCK!” comes through the walls.

“What the f- Uh, I’m not sure what that is.” Chat is freaking out, telling him to go check. “It might be my roommate; she’s having some… everything troubles right now. Hang on, guys, I’m gonna make sure everything’s okay.”

He switches to the ChairGameplays screen and actually sprints upstairs. Spencer is at the top of the stairs, his little feet tapping impatiently before he takes off, looking back to make sure Ethan is following him. Spencer leads him to the living room, where his roommate’s laptop is blue screening on the coffee table, a mug is laying on the floor in a puddle, several books and piles of papers are scattered across the room, and a quilted lump is curled up behind the couch. He closes her laptop, picks up the mug, and quickly piles the papers onto the couch, before carefully kneeling down next to the shaking lump.

He taps the floor a couple times to indicate he’s close to her, then gently pulls a little bit of the quilt up. She’s laying on her side with her knees pushed up into her chin, holding her phone close to her chest; he can hear soft music coming from the earbuds she has in.

When she opens a single red, puffy eye, he gives her a soft smile. “Hey bug, what’s the matter?” A moment goes by, and then she pulls herself up, wiping her wet cheeks and pulling out an earbud.

“Everything,” she mutters, and he gives her a sad, knowing smile. She’d visited her family a few weeks prior to keep the peace during the holidays, but given the state of the world, she’d been feeling guilty about it ever since. After she’d gotten back, quarantined, and taken a negative test, her first time actually going around the house without a mask was to take down Christmas decorations, which had put a damper on her already sour mood. Shortly after, she dove headfirst into college (even though the semester hadn’t started yet,) which meant working on a paper she hated, trying to iron out some wrinkles in her schedule through email, and preparing for a class she was TA for. 

Between the guilt of travelling to appease her family, the loss of the holiday cheer, and the looming presence of a new semester, she’s so stressed she’s barely functioning. Her glassy look and trembling figure are a sign that function is... minimal. Ethan sighs, pulling the blanket up enough that he can slide in next to her. “Do you want advice, comfort, or both?” he asks softly.

“Both.” She’s almost whispering as she drops her head down onto his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. There’s the soft  click of nails on the floor, and Spencer nudges his way under the blanket as well.

“What do you want advice about?” He’s done this enough that he knows how to be selective with his advice. He knows she doesn’t want him to solve her problems, but she knows he’ll help if she needs it. It’s a balance.

“College.” He’s glad she’s speaking; it’s much scarier when she’s nonverbal.

“Okay.” He strokes her hair for a moment while he deliberates his words. He wills any ADHD back for just a moment so he can help her. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to take a day off.” She grunts and squirms in protest, but he continues. “You’ve been working really, really hard, and I’m super proud of you, but you need to breathe. You’ve still got a couple weeks until anything starts, and you’re so ahead of schedule. It’s really scary to watch you beat yourself up and you don’t even notice, because you’re so strong but you forget you need breaks.” He gives her a minute to process. “You take your meds?”

She shakes her head ‘no’, and he tries to contain his disappointed sigh. “You forget or not want to?”

“Forgot.”

“That’s what your meds are for, goofus!” This makes her laugh, which makes him smile and Spencer’s tail wag softly. She’ll be okay. “Here’s the plan. You go take your meds, and you’re taking a break. It’ll just be for the rest of today, if you want. That’s the minimum. Today.” He can feel her nod hesitantly. “We can make some food and watch a movie, go for a drive, take a nap, you can come stream with me, or-”

She goes stiff. “Wait, were you streaming?” He hums in confirmation. “Oh, did you leave chat? I’m sorry, go back to streaming, I don’t wa-”

He shushes her and tightens his grip on her shoulders. “Chat told me to come check on you. Even if they hadn’t, I would’ve still done it. You’re my friend, bubs, and I gotta look out for you.”

She turns and tightly wraps her arms around him. “Thanks, Eef.” She pauses, before huffing out a small laugh. “You sap.”

He gasps, feigning hurt. “Names? How dare?! I’ll tell chat on you! Well, if you want. I don‘t want to make you uncomfy or anything.”

The glimmer returns to her eyes. “Only if I get to sit with Spencer and watch the aftermath.” She holds up a pinky.

He takes it, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance. As if he could ever be annoyed by a pinky promise. “Deal.”

After grabbing food (and medication) from the kitchen, they parade back down to Ethan’s office. She makes a cozy nest of blankets next to Spencer on the couch, who snuffles happily at the presence of his human housemate.

“I’m back!” Ethan sings excitedly to chat. “And we’re all okay! College was being stinky. … Why are you guys talking about toothpaste brands? Actually, I’ll leave that to you.” He waits a few seconds for replies to roll in. “Yes, yes, she’s fine now! Just a little overwhelmed. … ‘What happened?’ For those of you who just joined or joined while I was gone, my friend and roommate, friend-slash-roommate... froommate!” He giggles at the new word. “Froommate was having a bad day upstairs and I went to go check on her! She had the roommate blues… froommate blues! She okey now.” She gives a thumbs up from her spot on the couch, which Ethan confirms to chat.

Spencer licks her hand as she pats his soft fur, Ethan relays chat’s messages to her, and, from her spot on the couch, she feels a little less awful.

[massivedrickhead]

Survival Comes With Sacrifice

The Stowaway/Bechloe AU no one asked for and no one wants to read.

This will spoil the shit out of the ending of Stowaway so be warned!

Angst ahead. I mean… you’ve seen the film, you know what happens…

Thank you to @zoe-levenson for being my beta for this 💖

Read on AO3

With her hands resting on the back of her head, her elbows digging painfully into her thighs, Beca forced herself to slow her breathing down.

In. Out. In. Out.

If she didn’t prevent a panic attack - and quickly - then it would be too late. She wouldn’t be able to do what she needed to do.

In. Out.

Just like she’d taught Chloe.

Chloe…

No. If she thought about Chloe now, she’d lose any resolve she had.

She could hear the muffled sniffling of her crew around her, the heavy breathing of Stacie, who had just returned to the ship with her.

No one wanted to say it, but she knew they were all thinking it.

“I dropped it,” Beca said, voicing that collective thought. Her voice catching despite every effort to keep it steady.

“It was an accident,” Chloe said, her own voice calm.

Beca had no idea how she could be calm right now. The second they received warning of the solar storm and Beca and Stacie had had to abandon their mission, Chloe must have known that was it for her.

“And someone’s going to die because of it,” Beca said, not meeting her eye.

“We still have one canister up there. Maybe… if we could get to it, three of us will make it,” Stacie said.

“The storm will last hours,” Commander Aubrey Posen said, clenching the fist of her broken arm, hoping the pain will keep her grounded. “By the time it’s safe to go out there, there’ll be nothing left.”

“But-”

“We’re talking deadly radiation. A guaranteed death sentence.”

“I’ll go,” Chloe said. “It’s my fault we’re even in this mess.”

“You aren’t trained for this,” Aubrey said. “I know you want to help, but if you don’t make it back, another one of us will still die.”

Chloe let out a huff of frustration. “I can try,” she said.

“You aren’t throwing your life away on the off chance you’ll make it,” Stacie said. “I’ll-”

“No,” Beca said, cutting her off. “You have a partner back home. A family. We... I lost one canister. That’s one life gone,” she said. She looked up and made eye contact with Aubrey, her commander. Her friend. “If we don’t get the other, that’s another life gone.”

“No,” Aubrey said.

“I’m the one who dropped it.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“I can do this,” Beca said, smiling now. “It should be me.”

“Beca,” Chloe said, her voice finally showing some fear. “Please. You can’t do this. I can’t let you do this.”

“I’m not asking for permission,” Beca said, still trying not to look at her. She looked at Aubrey again. “I can do this.”

Aubrey blinked back tears, and nodded. “You know I’d have done it if I could.”

“I know,” Beca said, standing and pulling up her suit.

“Beca, please don’t do this,” Chloe said, sobbing now. “Please don’t leave me. We’ll think of something else.”

“If I do this, all three of you live. If I don’t, two of us will still die,” Beca said. “Think about your sister back home. Think about Stacie’s family. Aubrey’s family. There’s no one waiting for me to come home. It should be me.”

“No!” Chloe said, shouting now. Angry tears spilling down her face. “This can’t be the only way. You can’t throw your life away.”

“I can,” Beca said. “If it means you all live, then I can. And I’m happy to.”

“Someone say something! Aubrey? Stacie? You’re going to let her do this?”

“Chloe,” Stacie said, softly, “this is the only way.”

Chloe let out a scoff.

“I know this is hard,” Aubrey said, putting her hand on Chloe’s arm.

“I don’t want to do this without you, Beca,” Chloe said, pulling away from Aubrey. “I love you.”

“Please don’t make this harder,” Beca said.

“You aren’t going to say it back?”

“Of course I fucking love you,” Beca said, closing her eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks. “That’s why I have to do this.”

Stacie stood up and gave Beca a hug, their foreheads resting against each other.

“Send your kid to Yale,” Beca said, causing Stacie to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Asshole,” she said, sniffing. “I’m so sorry, Beca.”

“I know,” Beca said. She turned to look at Aubrey.

“It’s going to be rough out there,” Aubrey said, trying to keep her composure. “You’re gonna start feeling sick, tired, and you’re gonna be pelted by stuff that’s going to burn your skin.”

“I’ll try not to die before I get the canister back,” Beca said.

“You know you won’t be able to come back in,” Aubrey said. “And we won’t be able to communicate once you go outside.”

“I know,” Beca said.

“So she dies alone too?” Chloe said.

“Chloe, you aren’t helping,” Stacie said.

“Fuck you, I don’t want to make this easy. I don’t want this to happen at all,” Chloe replied, her voice laced with fury.

“Nobody wants this,” Aubrey said. “If there was literally any other option we’d be doing this.”

“Chloe, I killed someone when I dropped that canister. If I do this, you live. Stacie lives. Aubrey lives.”

“But you don’t,” Chloe said, her voice breaking.

“I know,” Beca said. “But I fought so hard to keep you alive. So that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“Baby, please.” Chloe cupped Beca’s face with her hands and kissed her.

“I need you to make it, Chlo’,” Beca said, closing her eyes as Chloe’s thumbs stroked along her face. “You need to survive. You can’t give up once I’m gone.”

“Beca, it’s time,” Aubrey said.

“Okay,” Beca said, taking a deep breath. “Okay. I love you all.”

“No,” Chloe said.

“Please make it to Mars, and make it home. Get them to make a statue of me or something.”

“Beca, please.”

“It’s okay, Chloe.”

“No it isn’t!”

Beca took a step back, out of Chloe’s embrace, and put her helmet back on.

“I love you,” she said, moving towards the airlock.

“No!”

She grabbed Beca’s arm and pulled her back.

Aubrey and Stacie each took one of Chloe’s arms and pulled her away from Beca.

Beca rested her hand on the airlock door, and took one last look at them.

Chloe was fighting to get away from the others, and had even managed to remove her arm from Stacie’s grasp.

Beca pushed down on the handle, opened the airlock, and stepped inside. Chloe broke free as she closed the door behind her.

She couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she could see Chloe screaming and banging against the glass of the door.

Beca gave her one last look, and climbed the ladder up and out of the hatch.

The journey up the tether was worse this time, but she felt less afraid. Her fate had been sealed the second she stepped out into the storm, and now all she had to do was make it up and down without dropping the canister.

As she climbed up to the halfway point, the canister attached securely, she really began to feel it. Her head was throbbing and she was nauseous and tired, and her body was sore and burning. She licked her dry lips and felt a sharp sting. They were already chapped and blistering.

Going down was easier, but she took her time, knowing she couldn’t drop this one.

She landed gently, the canister safe in her arms, and walked back towards the hatch on shaky legs.

She saw Chloe watching her through the window, her face tear streaked.

Beca held up the canister in triumph, and carried on her walk.

She opened the hatch and lowered it back into the airlock.

She wished she could go back in. She knew she was done for. She couldn’t be saved. But she wished she could die with her friends at her side. With Chloe holding her hand. Maybe with an extra dose of pain meds to ease her off to sleep before she died.

But she supposed it could be worse.

Better this than slowly suffocating.

Better this than having to watch Chloe die. Or Aubrey or Stacie.

She sat down on the edge of the walkway, her legs dangling off into open space.

Her breathing was getting ragged now, and she was still being peppered by bursts of radiation.

But at least the view was good.

Her eyes remained fixed on the bright red star ahead, and her last thoughts were of home, and Chloe.

[desolationlovers]

ughhhhhhh somebody fucked up at work and a bunch of frozen stuff got left out of somebodys order and has been sitting out for an hour so it all has to be thrown away and it was a lot of shit. and im worried since i took the order out im gonna get blamed even tho i looked for that frozen stuff for a solid 15 minutes and my coworker that was in charge said just go ahead and take it out. and my boss has been getting really mad about that bc its been happening a bunch but this is one of the only times i was actually involved with the order that got messed up. i feel like everything i screw up on im gonna get fucking fired for. but this is one of the most costly screw ups ive been involved in. so like im WORRIED worried. and i dont have anxiety meds on me and i dont get off till 9 and i drank caffine this morning and its been really busy anyways so we are nearing panic attack levels. not there yet but :(((( and now were SO behind bc of dealing with that aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[honesthammie]

From my prompt list:

4) After reaching your 16th birthday you gain the ability to see everyone's red strings of fate and on your 18th you finally get to see yours, except yours dissappears into the ground/sky.

Fandom:Doctor who

Pairing: 13 x gender neutral reader

This is my first fic on tumblr. I know its hella long and not all of my fics will be like this. This came to me from a dream I had recently. I love Jodie and I decided to write the spider episode from a different perspective. I may have change the episode slightly to fit the reader. I am thinking of doing a part 2 but it may be a while before I do as I have deadlines and stuff to keep up with. The next part may be more fluff between 13 and yourself. I know this didn't have much but it's something. I'm also sorry to any Americans reading this, I love yas but its just the personality I put to go with the readers personality. I'm also sorry for any spelling mistakes as I'm doing this on my phone.

Summary: spider episode with a small change I'm plot to accommodate your beautiful self in this fic

Warnings: slight description of a couple of panic/anxiety attacks, swearing and a bit of angst. Long intro for small fluff. And it's a part 1 do I guess a small cliffhanger is a warning?

Beep beep beep. Your alarm starts blaring in your ears, waking you up with a start. You glare at the interrupting machine before turning it off. After such a crazy night, you did not want your sleep so rudely interrupted. Why did you have a crazy night? It's your 18th birthday today and your friends decided to visit your place for a little house party, last night, to celebrate and now you have a pounding headache.

You groaned as you realised, you would need to take some pain meds before you even think about going back to sleep. Slipping out of your bed, you walk to the bathroom and find the cupboard with all sorts of medicinal and bathroom bits and bobs. You then grab the glass that you placed there in preparation for the definite hangover. The glass was a little cold to the touch but you filled it with some cool water from the sinks tap.

You took two, just so you could have a longer sleep. You waddle back into your bedroom and just as you get comfy, you widen your eyes at the memory. You needed to see your mother today, she said she had a gift for you but she would only be at home until 11. You looked at the machine that you hated for the time. It was currently 10:05. You jumped to your feet and rush to get ready.

As you walked outside, you saw the regular red strings that you saw everyday. Why do you see strings? You honestly didn't know, but you knew their purpose, it helped match 2 soulmates together. But something seemed a little off, there was no one on the street anymore, so why could you still see one line of destiny? You decided to follow the string south, down to your own (s/c) hand which was now slightly shaking at the sight.

"Fuck. Fuck,fucky fucking fuck. Why now? Why me? What the shit is going on with me?" You curse to yourself. You could feel your breath getting rapid and your head started spinning slightly. You quickly unlocked your car and sat down to help calm you down. You took a few deep breaths and focused on your senses.

When you eventually calmed down, you decided to look at where the string led. Oh, how you shouldn't have looked. It didn't go in any way of a compass, it went straight up and past the clouds. How? You had so many questions but you had to focus on the day ahead.

You had been to your mothers house and collected your new (fave game series) and your card. You were incredibly thankful as you have been saving up to buy it for yourself one day. You had played the previous games and loved every one of them and to say you were excited was an understatement. You almost ran back into your place if it wasn't for needing the key to access the gates.

Living in a gated community helped you feel a lot safer but it did also make you a big target for thieves to practise picking locks. No one had figured out where the hidden camera that kept alerting the authorities was though. Even you have tried put of plain curiosity but you got stumped after the 10th day of searching. You were sure you looked in every possible hiding spot, yet the camera always seemed to evade you in the pointless game of hide and seek.

As you unlocked the gate, you felt a twitch on your finger. The string was moving down and at a very fast pace, almost falling speed. You looked up and saw a small black dot heading towards the ground, if thats your soulmate, they would certainly be dead the second they meet their fate. When you could no longer see the dot, you kept your eyes glued to the string, waiting for it to disappear like everyone else's did when a soulmate died.

After five minutes, the string was still there and was still as red as ever, like no harm had come to them. But thats not possible. No creature could survive that especially from that great a height! You were beyond curious and quickly went into your living room and searched on all your social media for anyone else that may have spotted the dot in the sky, yet no one had but you knew (b/f) had another massive fight with their roommate, Stella, over whose turn it was to do the dishes again.

If you didn't know that Stella was in a relationship with another, you would have sworn those two were in a relationship. You giggled at the silly thought, "if Stella ever goes through a break up with her, I'm totally gonna set those two up."

You give up on finding anything out today, maybe it'll be on the news tomorrow and you set off to go on an online shopping spree, you had a few codes and now, thanks to your wonderful mother, had a little cash to spare and you did see that gorgeous top on sale. Once you had spent the day either shopping or gaming you decided to head to bed but you couldn't stop thinking about that dot and what the red string meant for you.

When your alarm had went off, you hit it and got dressed for your new job at some hot shot posh hotel run by an aspiring American with High expectations and little experience with Sheffield. You had been told you wouldn't get to meet him much and you were beyond fine with that, you hated Americans, simply because you hated violence and guns were the big no on your weaponry list of avoidance. You didn't mind weapons in video games, those were harmless to the outside world. You didn't mind verbal violence though, it was all you had to defend yourself with and in Sheffield, that was better than nothing. You were very short tempered when it came to your anger but you found that it was either verbal or physical, you chose to be verbal.

You looked at your phone for any messages from (b/f) and had a good luck message. You replied with a smiley face and a "ill need all the luck I can get. I've heard from a few employees that he can be a real asshole for no reason and fires people just because they made eye contact for too long. It's like he suspects someone is out for his blood."

After 2 minutes you received a reply from from them. "You better be on your best behaviour then, young lady!"

"That's the problem. I wonder what the record is for the quickest a person has got fired? Because I may break that, you know me! I don't exactly do as I'm told, that's why finding a job has been so hard. Anyway, I best get ready, gotta look the part! First impressions and all!" You replied with a nervous face. What you failed to notice was the red string no longer pointing towards the sky and you were making it shorter with every step you took. You did give up on finding out about the strange dot and came to the assumption that it fell in a lake, there were plenty of them around.

You walked into the swanky looking hotel and noticed the cobwebs that definitely were not there two days ago when you had your interview, yet they looked like they had been there for weeks. You would have put it down to Halloween decorations if it wasn't for the fact that it was June. You decided to not ask in case this was some sort of strange new American trend that your boss was following to help bring in the youth. It does help make it fit into Sheffield a lot more with the run down and abandoned look. It would need some rust, water damage, mold and cracks to finish the look but it was a start. If you had to be honest, the spider webs helped bring the place together. It was way too posh for Sheffield but you had to lie and say you love it in order to get hired. Just from that lie alone you knew exactly the personality of your boss, arrogant, vain and ignorant.

"Hello, you must be my new helper! I'm Najia, your second in command here. As you can see, there are loads of spider webs so they should be priority. If you could start cleaning in the south west second floor and continue that floor, that would be amazing. Now here's your cleaning trolley and if you happen to finish the floor early, send me a little message through the walkie talkie and I'll give you another room or floor. Do you have any questions?" Najia spoke softly. She seemed lovely and it was shame that she had to be in a place that would get more damage than its worth.

"Just one question: why so many spider webs?"

"I don't know, they just seemed to have appeared, I thought it was silly string from some teenagers that managed to break in somehow but it is actual spider web. It wasn't here when I left last night. I guess I'll have to ask someone about that."

And with that you separated and got to your floor when you finally noticed a slight burning sensation on your finger, it wasn't hurtful. It was like putting the finger in a really hot bath. You looked down and noticed it now pointed downhill and seemed to be glowing a shade of gold ever so gently that you would miss it if the weird sensation didn't make you look.

You left your trolley outside a toilet to make it seem like you were in there when really you had wondered off to follow the string. You would probably lose yourself in the maze of hallways that all looked the same as the last if the string didn't help lead you to a ballroom. You opened the door and instantly screamed. A giant spider was walking towards you, however you couldn't get out, you had used a staff door which needed a key card to use from this side as the other side still needed to be fitted and you left yours in the trolley, near the toilets. And the massive spider seemed to be blocking the other way out so you were trapped.

You weren't scared of spiders but seeing them at the size of a van did intimidate you. You started shaking from fear of what it would do to you. Out of pure instinct, you put your hand out to protect yourself and the sound of 8 legs against wooden flooring had ceased. The only sound was your laboured breathing. It stayed like this for what seemed like hours but in actuality was only 5 minutes. You opened your eyes slowly to see 8 more stare right back. 8 eyes that showed fear but no intention of harm. Instead the spider gave you space to breathe by walking back a few feet. Then it seemed to be watching you, studying your next move to see if you were a threat and whether or not it should kill you.

You stayed still for a moment, wrapping your head around what had just happened before gently walking towards the creature with both hands forward to show them clean of weapons. You decided to try and speak to the spider to see if it can understand you.

"Hello. I'm new around here, I'm sorry if I'm trespassing on your area, I wasn't aware of you being here to be honest. I mean you no harm, if anything, I want to help you but unfortunately, I'm stuck in here aswell." You spoke carefully as if it was a child that was afraid. You gently put your hand in its head and it seemed to understand your good intentions and your situation as it let you pet it. Now you were close, you started to admire it and realised it wasn't poisonous or venomous, it was just a regular house spider. But you couldn't figure out how or why it got this big but it did explain the cobwebs everywhere.

You had been with the spider for hours and it seemed like Najia either didn't care or has gotten fired as she hasn't asked about you. You had spent the time talking or singing to the spider. She, as you found out after looking it up, seemed to put her body around you to protect you. You had even met a couple of her children as they gave you food from the cafeteria to nibble on when your stomach growled.

Eventually the burning on your fingers turned up massively and was causing you pain. The spider seemed to sense this and wrapped her web around your finger to help cool it down a little. It didn't help but you showed gratitude anyway as she was only trying to help in anyway she could. You gave her a small smile and her eyes seemed to show sympathy in return.

Then the doors opened again and the sound of several feet walked in. "Oh thank god. I thought I was never going to be found in here." You thought to yourself as you heard the voices mumble to each other and probably about Betty and what's the best way to get rid of her. You would have paid more attention if your finger didn't feel like it had caught fire and was tight as if your soulmate was amongst those that had walked in.

Now you were nervous. How would you introduce yourself? What did they look like? Were they male or female, not that you really cared? So many questions made you feel lightheaded so you grabbed onto Betty to keep yourself planted.

Then the door opened again and a familiar voice echoed in the hall and you knew exactly how he'd want to deal with Betty and after your bond today, you would rather die than her. She was obviously innocent here and maybe the others could see it. Then you heard the familiar click of a gun safety being taken off and your body reacted before your mind did and you jumped in front of her to stop him, although you had a feeling it wouldn't, but it was worth a shot for the others to stop him.

"Don't you fucking dare shoot that gun Dickhead! Not without going through me!" You spoke with fire in your eyes and maybe a slight mix if fear aswell. That's when you looked over at the new group of people. They all seemed trustworthy enough.

There was Najia, who welcomed you here earlier and she looked sad, so she had definitely been fired. Then there was another woman who looked a lot like her, you guessed she was a daughter or something and she was pretty and definitely somone with authority with the way she stood and held herself, maybe she is a police officer? A man who looked as though he was in his 50s and definitely did not belong in this weird group. A young man who looked of a similar age to the police woman, maybe they are friends.

Then you laid your eyes on one of the most beautiful woman, no, human, you had ever seen and would probably never see again. She had short blonde hair in a bob. They seemed to be brunette at the root. She had beautiful chocolate honey eyes that glimmers with so much emotion and age well beyond her years, like she had experienced thousands of years before this moment. You also noticed her odd sense of style but you admired her boldness and it did look amazing on her. You decided she could only be described as sunshine and rainbows.

Then you noticed her hand And a familiar red string that was also glowing a beautiful subtle gold. Like millions of tiny golden stars circled around the string in a beautiful dance of love. Your eyes started to follow the string down and back to your own. She was your soulmate. That goddess that stood before you, was to be yours forever some day.

Then you looked into her hypnotic eyes before you remembered where you were and what situation you were in. And you realised everyone was staring at you for your previous action towards a spider.

"If you want to keep your job, I'd suggest you move out of the way silly girl!" Your boss grumbled in a threatening tone.

"Nope. You are about to hurt an innocent creature that is stuck and terrified. You built on top of landfill and didn't bother to check and thought of no consequences. This is your fault. Is this how you would treat a child that was a mistake after a one night stand or something? Would you shoot a child that had no choice?" You spoke with confidence yet more nerves now she was there listening to every word. When he didn't answer you shouted "Answer me! Would you shoot your mistake of a child?"

He glared at you. "This is different. This is an animal. A pest. It needs to be killed so more can't be born! I made my mistake and now I'm fixing it!" He bellowed just seconds before a shot was made from his gun. You had expected pain but instead you heard a horrible shriek from behind you.

You quickly turned around and petted her whilst whispering sweet words as she took her last breath. You stood up and made your way over to the murderer. You couldn't stand him and you were so tempted to take his gun and shoot him with it, but you didn't. With fire in your eyes and pure hatred, you slapped him hard enough to leave a mark and maybe a bruise as a reminder of his shitty choices. "You can't fire me because I fucking quit you arrogant dick! She had caused no harm to you or I and I'm sure if you would have sorted it sooner, so many more lives could have been saved as she only had humans because flies didn't fill her anymore! She was so kind and just so afraid. I hope you lose everything you pathetic sad sack of boiled shit! You are truest one of the lowest excuses for a human I have ever met and if we meet again please be very afraid, because next time, it won't just be a slap you have to worry about! It'll be your balls as I cut them off beacuse men like you shouldn't repopulate the planet! You horrid scum! I hope your empire fucking collapses!" You spoke with venom lacing every word. You were seething and boy did his face look punchable. Instead you walked away with your middle finger proudly being the last thing he sees as you walk out the normal doors.

Once you were outside, you sat in the steps and finally let out all the emotions. You cried so hard, over your loss of yet another job and a newly found friend. You screamed at him with a string of curses that would offend just about anybody. You suddenly felt somone sit at the side of you. You knew who it was when the string was burning more than ever before and yet you couldn't feel it over the pain your heart.

"You did brilliant back there. You chose, not just your job, but your life over a creature you barely even knew! If you wouldn't have jumped in when you did, I don't think her children would've had a chance to escape to my TARDIS because he's going on a hunt right now for the rest of them. Sure, you didn't save her but you saved so many more lives than you think. And I know each one is eternally grateful for what you did. I know I would be." Her words were certain and sympathetic. They seemed to calm you down instantly. Or maybe is was the way she talked that helped with her soft but strong voice and you knew you already couldn't get enough like it was the best drug ever. You could listen to her all day and yet, she had said very little to you. It was a strange effect but you liked it.

She fell into a silence for a while just keeping you company as you came to terms with had happened.

[icaruspendragon]

Hey friends! After months of therapy/new meds, I’ve finally found the motivation and inspiration to not only start reading again, but start writing! I’m pretty excited, so here’s a snippet of my newest project.

Not a lot of her stuff had made it with her from California to New York. But that was okay she kept telling herself. A fresh start and whatnot. No one knows her here. No one knows what happened to her. She can just go to class and go home and focus on graduating and getting a job and maybe moving out of the country. Maybe to Italy or to Greece or England. That was her plan at least. And everyone knew that Annabeth was big on plans. Naturally, this plan seemed to go awry almost instantly while she was trying to move into her brand new one bedroom apartment. She had thought about trying to find a roommate, but the thought of being in close quarters with a stranger made her chest feel tight and her palms sweaty, so she had decided that this would be a solo adventure.

She had told her dad and stepmom over and over again that she could make the move by herself, that she wouldn’t need them to help her move, they didn’t need to spend the money to travel and to take time off of work and who would watch her brothers? Even though she didn’t have that much stuff she was starting to get overwhelmed at the boxes the movers were bringing up in what seemed like an endless stream and setting just inside her front door. The apartment had come pre-furnished, so that was good at least. She didn’t think that she would have been able to bring most of that stuff with her, anyway. She had been sleeping on her couch for months and didn’t think she’d be able to keep that up for much longer. She was trying to make a mental list of everything that she would need to go out and get tonight. New pillows, blankets, sheets, curtains, etc. She would need to find a place to get that stuff, hopefully somewhere that also sold groceries. She didn’t want to have to spend all day running around a new city and trying to unpack and trying to keep herself from having a panic attack.

She was trying to keep her mental list running and keep an eye on the movers and keep inventory of what was in the boxes and what she would need to unpack first and where they were putting the boxes that she would need to unpack first while standing out in her new hallway, trying to stay out of the movers way when she heard laughter. She looked over and saw two girls. One tall with olive skin and dark choppy hair and the other a whole head shorter with wild curls and tawny skin, both chatting animatedly about something. Annabeth was trying to tune them out and hoping that they wouldn’t notice her, and if they did, that they would just keep on walking. She wasn’t in the mood to be social. She hadn’t been in the mood to be social in quite some time. She wasn’t sure she remembered how to be social anymore.

“Hi! Are you moving in?” The shorter one asked. Of course they noticed her and of course they stopped. Annabeth swallowed and turned to face her, trying her hardest to plaster what she hoped was the approximation of a friendly smile on her face.

“Yeah.” She responded, hoping that the conversation would stop there.

“Oh, cool!” The girl responded. “Looks like we’re going to be neighbors. I’m Hazel, this is Piper, my roommate.” Hazel, apparently, gestured towards the girl standing next to her.

“Annabeth.” She introduces, nodding at them, hoping no one wants to shake hands.

“Nice to meet you.” Piper offers, a small smile on her face.

“Likewise.” Annabeth responds even though she doesn’t feel the same. Now that they’re closer she can see just how beautiful the two girls are and sense the ease with which they’re navigating this new situation. Annabeth feels a pang of jealousy. It doesn’t matter, she tells herself. She’s just here to go to class and get out of her. Not to make friends.

“What’s your roommate’s name?” Piper asks, one beautifully sculpted eyebrow raised.

“Oh, it’s uh, it’s just me.” Annabeth tells them, resisting the urge to avert her eyes to the floor. She knows deep down that these girls are just trying to be nice and warm and welcoming and whatever, but she really doesn’t want the reminder of just how alone she is. Not right now. Not right here.

“Where’d you move from?” Hazel asks, eyes following the mover bringing more boxes in.

“San Francisco.” Annabeth tells her, trying her hardest not to be short with this girl who is trying her hardest to be nice to a stranger, it’s not Hazel’s fault that Annabeth’s stomach drops at the mention of it.

“That’s cool. I’m from Malibu. Are you here for school?” This time it’s Piper who speaks.

“Yeah.” Annabeth responds. She knows that she should be giving them more than one word responses, but she wants nothing more than to hide in her new apartment and not come out for the rest of the night. She didn’t think that interacting with other people would have this kind of toll on her.

“I’m from New Orleans, so Piper and I both know what it’s like to be far from home.” Hazel tells her sympathetically. Annabeth offers her a tightlipped smile in return.

“Pipes, are the boys doing anything tonight?” Hazel asks, turning to her roommate.

“Are they ever doing anything?” Piper responds, laughing.

“Be right back.” Hazel tells her and then sets off down the hall.

They both watch her walk down a few doors, stop at one, and then enter without knocking.

Annabeth finds herself looking at the floor, trying not to feel too awkward in the silence and trying not to get overwhelmed. She’s never been that great at small talk and she hadn’t really planned for all of this to happen. She’d been going and going since yesterday, thinking about the next task ahead, not stopping to think about anything else. If she starts to think about literally everything else going on she’ll start to spiral.

Piper speaks up before Annabeth can get too in her head, “What are you studying?”

“Architecture.” She responds and then a moment passes before Annabeth remembers that it’s the polite thing to do to ask Piper the same. “What about you?”

“Communication and environmental studies.” She tells her.

“Interesting combination.” Annabeth responds, because she really thinks that it is but then she’s afraid that it came out snarky and even though she doesn’t want to be in this situation, she doesn’t want to be seen as rude.

“Oh yeah,” Piper tells her, smiling, “I couldn’t make up my mind and I wanted to do something that would end up helping people one way or the other so I decided to do both.”

Annabeth just nods because she can’t think of a way to respond. She’s saved from having to try and come up with something else to talk about or standing in awkward silence when she hears a door open and sees Hazel come out with four boys in tow.

“Ah. Reinforcements” Piper says but Annabeth has no idea what that means and the prospect of meeting even more strangers makes her want to vomit.

“What?” She asks, but before Piper can answer her, Hazel is calling down the hall.

“Annabeth, this is Jason, Leo, and Frank. Boys, this is our new neighbor, Annabeth.” Hazel states, pointing at each boy is turn. Jason is tall and stocky, Leo is wiry and thin, Frank is just big.

She is assaulted by a chorus of hellos and heys and smiles from all directions. Annabeth has no idea why her new neighbor has brought out what seems like half the building, but she really doesn’t want to stay to find out. Thankfully, one of the movers calls her over to inform her that all of her boxes are now in her apartment. She signs a sheet of paper and thanks the man for his work. She turns back around and sees five pairs of eyes on her.

“Did they bring everything up?” Hazel asks her.

“Uh, yeah.” Annabeth responds, wondering why they’re all still standing there. She really just wants to get inside and sit in silence for a few minutes before getting to work on her next plan.

“Where’s Percy?” Piper asks, turning to the boys.

“He’s at his mom’s watching Estelle.” One of the boys, Jason, tells Piper.

“Well then, I guess he’s excused.” Piper says.

Annabeth notices the playful banter between the two, between all of them, really. The ease with which they are all interacting. She’s never had a big group of friends like what they have. It had always been just her and Thalia. And she had always thought that she was okay with that, but now she and Thalia were separated by thousands of miles and one impenetrable secret, as she observes the five strangers in front of her, she feels the snarls of jealousy growing in the pit of her chest again.

“Percy can make it up to us later, we need to get started.” Hazel tells the group.

“Started?” Annabeth asks.

“Yeah. We’re gonna help you unpack. It’ll take you forever by yourself!” Hazel responds, the excitement in her voice palpable.

Panic instantly rushes through her veins. This was not on the list of things that could potentially happen today. Annabeth didn’t have a plan for this. She had one for if her stuff got lost, if the movers were late, if all of her stuff arrived broken, she even had a plan for if something happened at the leasing office and she wasn’t able to pick up her keys for her apartment. She had made zero plans that factored in overly polite neighbors and their squadron of male helpers.

“Oh, you really, I mean, it’s fine. You don’t need to. I can, I can handle this.” Annabeth tells her, floundering. Trying to find a way out of this.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Hazel responds. “I saw how much stuff they were bringing up, and it’s already pretty late in the day, between the six of us, we’ll all be able to get it knocked out in no time.” And dammit, she’s still smiling. Annabeth doesn’t think she’ll be able to get out of this one. Not without being considered a huge bitch. And she knows that she should be grateful, she really does, and she’s trying very hard to be, to be grateful and thankful and a whole host of other nice feelings and words that these five perfect strangers would be so willing to give up their evening to help one imperfect stranger unpack the boxes that have weighed her down all across the country. She is trying very hard.

“It’s really no big deal. I had planned on doing it all by myself, anyway.” Annabeth tells them.

“Well, now you can plan on having some help.” Piper tells her, gentle smile resting on the corner of her mouth. “You can try and fight Hazel all you want, but once she makes her mind up about something, it gets done.”

The big guy, Frank, laughs and Hazel shoots him a look.

“What?” He says, raising his hands in defense, “You and everyone else knows that Piper is right.”

“Whatever.” Hazel responds, rolling her eyes, but there’s no malice in the word or the gesture.

“Welcome to the building, Annabeth.” Leo tells her as he opens her door and just walks into her apartment.

[spaceskam]

For the fanfic mash-up thing: how about 10 and 72 for Malex?

this prompt is literally like a year old whoop. from this prompt list 

10. airport/travel au & 72. stranded on a desert island

warnings: plane crash, anxiety, injury, open ending

ao3

Michael Guerin hated planes.

He spent most of his life avoiding them which was easy. His childhood rendered them virtually nonexistent and his adulthood had always carried the excuse of poverty. It worked out. Until now when he found himself five seconds away from throwing up on his ex-something as they waited to board the plane.

“Are you sure you don’t want to even half of one?” Alex asked. He’d basically been trying to feed Michael his anxiety meds from the moment he realized Michael was nervous. It was painfully attractive and annoying of him to try to take care of him like that.

“You need them more than me, that’s why they’re prescribed to you,” Michael argued.

“You’re going to have a full blown panic attack if you don’t calm down,” Alex said, “Why didn’t you tell Isobel you were scared of planets?”

“And ruin her dream destination wedding that she can finally have because it’s her second one and she doesn’t need to have everyone come out, just the ‘nearest-and-dearest’, and that your brother took off of work for, and that you pulled strings to get me a last minute passport for? Absolutely not,” Michael said. He didn’t have to look at Alex to know he was rolling his eyes.

“You might ruin it anyway if you show up having a full blown breakdown,” Alex said.

“Shut up, I’m fine. I am perfectly and entirely fine,” Michael said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t need your help.”

“Okay,” Alex sighed.

And he was able to pretend that that was the truth until they called for them to board the plane.

Michael was shaking and sweating and already looking for exits. He didn’t know why he was so fucking scared. Nothing bad was going to happen. The plane was going to land and he was going to be absolutely fine. Fine, fine, fine.

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, buckling himself in immediately and identifying the little oxygen mask. Alex sat on the side near the aisle and Michael sat by the window. He didn’t look out of it though, instead choosing to look straight ahead.

Isobel was already there, ready to have her lovely wedding to Gregory in Cabo and Michael was going to be there if it killed him. Max and Liz were flying there from California and that was their wedding party. It was small and just about immediate family. And Michael was going to be there.

The plane started to move and Michael was gripping the arm rests like it was the only thing saving him. He hated this. All the way up until Alex reached over and laid his hand on top of Michael’s. He fiddled with it until he locked their fingers and squeezed.

“You can crush my hand, it won’t hurt me,” Alex promised him. And if it were any other situation, Michael would’ve sat there and let himself overthink every tiny thing about the fact that Alex was holding his hand. However, he was way too scared for all that and just squeezed and ignored Alex’s soft laughter.

Even after the plane took off, Michael didn’t let go. He clutched Alex’s hand until his started to cramp up and then he powered through the cramps to keep holding onto it. He just stared forward and tried to will away the bad feelings.

And it was all full and games until the plane shook.

“It’s just turbulence,” Alex said, voice soft and promising. Michael swallowed harshly.

“You promise?”

“Yeah, it’s normal.”

But then it happened again and worse.

Alex didn’t say anything that time, just rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of his hand as the flight attendant asked everyone to put their seat belts back on. There was rough winds, they said. Michael swallowed harshly.

“It’s okay,” Alex said, giving his hand a little squeeze.

Except it wasn’t okay.

Things started to move too fast, the plane was shaking and waving through the air. People were screaming, the flight attendant requested they put on their oxygen masks. And Michael knew this was going to happen. Bad, bad, bad.

Alex held onto him and stayed completely stoic. Michael almost felt guilty about that. He was staying calm because he wanted Michael to stay calm. He should get to freak out too, right?

Then they were going down.

-

Michael Guerin hated planes.

And now, in the middle of the woods, with the plane suspended amongst trees in the middle of nowhere surrounded by people screaming and hurt and dying and dead, he felt like he had a completely valid reason to hate them. He hated them more than anything in the entire world. Higher than Jesse Manes and snakes.

With a little unconventional use of his power, Michael had gotten himself and Alex safely to the ground. Sort of safely. There was a doctor on board and a couple other soldiers assessing everyone and trying to help them, triage them. Michael didn’t feel bad putting his full focus onto Alex.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Alex breathed, eyes closed as he laid on the ground. Somewhere during the plane going down and him trying to keep Michael calm, he’d taken a dislodged tray to the thigh. It was stuck in him and he was still trying to act calm.

“Alex,” Michael breathed. He’d thrown away his panic for the time being. He was still a little shaky, but he had his priority set on this man as it always should’ve been. “Alex, hey, I’m gonna get it out.”

“What? No, no, don’t do that,” Alex said, shaking his head. His hair was matted to his forehead and he was pale and he was bleeding and this was unfair. “Could make it worse.”

“No, look, I’ll make a tourniquet,” Michael said, already ripping his shirt to tie around his thigh.

“No,” Alex said, shaking his head and pushing at his shoulder, “No.”

“Alex,” Michael said a little desperately, “I need to get it out so I can try to heal you.” That got his attention.

“What? No, no. No, no, no. There’s people.”

“I don’t fucking care, Alex, you’re hurt!” he argued. Alex shook his head.

Alex was able to keep his stoic composure up until he tried to move a little to show he was fine. He let out an involuntary groan of pain and then gasped as it moved another way. A few heavy breaths later, Alex nodded.

“Okay, heal it,” he whispered. Michael nodded and immediately tied the fabric around his thigh and went to remove the tray. He moved slow and Alex did his best to stay calm. He had to admit, it was impressive how calm he stayed.

Blood gushed as the tray was removed and Michael hated it. He immediately covered it with his hand and was preparing to try his damnedest to heal him. Alex grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait,” he said, "Wait.”

“What?”

“Just, wait,” Alex said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, “If you do this, will you be able to feel my feelings?”

“Only if you want me to,” Michael assured him. That was, at least, what Max had said. “But I can’t promise you won’t be able to feel mine even when I don’t want you to. So, if you’re, like suddenly in love with me after this, don’t trust it.”

Alex gave a breathy laugh, squeezing his shoulder before he moved his hand to his jaw. “I’m already there, I’ll let you know if I feel anymore.”

“Okay,” Michael said, taking a deep breath as he pressed his hand over the wound. He felt like that just added fuel to the fire already brewing in him. “Okay, thank you.”

He’d been practicing for awhile now with Isobel and Max and he’d been getting pretty good at it. The main problem was that he usually didn’t do it when he was this stressed out. Alex was hurt. Actually hurt. He could’ve died. And they hand’t even fixed their bullshit yet.

It took a few seconds, long seconds, almost a minute, but eventually his mind swirled and blurred and he slowly pieced Alex back together from the inside out. He didn’t scream, not wanting to draw any attention to himself, just fed on Alex and the fact that he loved him more than anything.

After draining himself into Alex, he tipped forward a little and caught himself on the ground. So he sat there on all fours over Alex’s lap and just breathed and tried not to focus on the fact that this was bad. Alex getting hurt was just the tip of the iceberg. There were in the middle of nowhere after a fucking plane crash and Isobel’s wedding was still happening.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked.

“Are you?” Michael asked right back. Neither of them really gave appropriate answers.

Alex swallowed and grabbed his head, pulling him into his chest. Michael let himself fall and breath him in.

They were going to be okay.

There weren’t any other options.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

When He’s Sick

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: sick!dean (it’s a thing, trust me), man flu (most women in relationships, also maybe some gay men would know the constant struggles when their man is sick the ‘man flu’ (usually it’s a cold)), mentions of depression, mentions of panic attacks, fluffiness

Word Count: 2,466

a/n: was reading @supernatural-jackles​ preference list, the title is same as her preference when the boys are sick. Here’s my imagination running wild when I should be preparing to post 7 Days to Die. But, Dammit Jen’s so good, plus, Jen, I hope this is okay...I never talked ahead of time with you about it, this happened spontaneously....I guess read and let me know if it’s all good. If not I’ll remove it.

~

They had been in the town for a number of days. Hunt finished, long finished. But it turns out, someone, somewhere, somehow, the boys got sick with a nasty virus.

Sam was the first down and out. Not throwing up, but heating up with a fever. But his gut feeling like he isn’t going to last. Even if he ate something light on his stomach.

Y/N offered a small variety of foods to the giant. Saltines, applesauce, banana, toast, mashed potatoes, soup, anything light. But he turned it down.

She heard retching in the bathroom. That leaves with the older Winchester. Now when he’s sick, he’s sick. Really sick. Hearing him lose the contents of last night’s supper told her he wasn’t going to be able to keep anything solid down. At least not heavy. But they need to eat something.

He came out after washing up, pale as a ghost. If not dead already. It worried her, seeing how pale he was.

“Any leads on Dick?” He asks, words slurred. A garbled burp escaped. Only to turn into another throw up session. When he felt something coming up, he turned at his heel to make it to the toilet.

It had been weeks since Bobby’s death, Dean was running himself ragged finding Dick. Both him and Sam both wanted revenge. But at least, Sam knows when to stop to sleep and eat. But Dean, has one speed. Go.

She could only shake her head. He needs to take a break.

“You are in no condition to keep this up Dean.” She says from the door.

“Rain or shine, I’m hunting Dick.” He says. He hears her snort. “Oh grow up.” he groans as another wave hit him. Only making him groan louder, unable to throw up.

She took the time to head out to grab some supplies for them before they leave to head to the hunters cabin where they hid out, but also primarily lived.

Grabbing canned soups, broth, and even grabbed a thing of potatoes to mash up. She had weird, not so traditional ways of getting nourishment when sick but also something to be easy on the stomach.

Driving back she heads to their room. Sam still in bed, sound asleep. She hears a moan from the kitchen. To find Dean on the floor.

“Dean!” she says, concerned. Dropping the groceries on the table before rushing over to help him up.

“I’m fine.” He slurs.

“You’re not fine, you’re on the kitchen floor for no reason.” She says, helping him up.

She could feel the muscles in his arms trembling, they were fatigued.

“The floor moved on me.” He mumbles.

As she struggles to get him up right, she had his back at her chest, so his head fell back on her shoulder. He was out of it. But she wraps an arm around to touch his forehead.

“Dean, you’re burning up. We need to cool you off.” She says. Pushing him up to his feet.

“Seriously, I’m fine.” He continues.

He’s up, but knees weak nearly gave out. She has his arm around her shoulder as she practically dragged him to his bed. When his but landed on the side of the bed he didn’t stop the rest of his body to fall onto the bed with a significant bounce.

“No you’re not. You got something, you and Sam both. You threw up, and are running a fever. You need to stop and rest. It’s not gonna kill you.” She says.

He didn’t have the energy to fight her. He doesn’t even fight her when she takes his boots off. Undressing him down to his t-shirt and boxers, tucking him in bed under a thin layer of sheets.

I’m gonna have to play nurse. She thought.

Pulling the thermometer out on the boys. Sam rang a temperature in the hundreds, but it was easily manageable.

“102, just rest up Sam, ‘kay?” she says.

Sam nods. “No problem, this sucks.” He groans.

“I’m making some soup and mashed potatoes. It’s cream of chicken and veggie soup. What’s best is you could also put some of the soup on the potatoes.” She suggests.

“Sounds good, my stomach has calmed down some, so I’ll try some.” He says.

“That’s good.” She says.

“How’s Dean?” he asked.

“His fever is nearing 104, he ate a few saltines before taking the fever reducer. He’ll try to throw up, but it just turns into dry heaves, I can tell they hurt. Whatever he got, it’s worse than what you have.” She says.

“If he gets worse?” he asks.

“He might need to go to the hospital then. For all I know it’s just the flu.” She says.

“The flu can get bad though.” Sam goes.

“In kids and the immunocompromised. And the elderly…And the uninsured…” she listed.

Sam chuckled. “It’s so sad how it’s preventable, but the government makes it a fucking hassle to just take care of your own health.” He says.

“And they die as the end result, because the meds they need or the care they need are too much for them, and they can’t get them. It’s wrong on so many levels. It’s like they’re bullies stealing our lunch money, they’re holding it out of reach and we’re too short to grab it.” she says.

“That’s what I was thinking of saying. But I’m not thinking straight.” He says.

“It’s the fever. Rest up Sammy. I’ll tell the caretaker we’re staying until you two are a little better. At least better enough for the road trip back to the cabin.” She suggests.

“I know I could, him I’m worried about.” Sam says. She nods, agreeing.

 She was only able to get them the room for a couple of more hours before they had to move out. Sam was able to eat her soup and potatoes, Dean not so much. The smell of the food made him gag.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I just made it look like your food smells awful, and it don’t. it smells amazing, my stomach is just in knots.” Dean whines, rolling on his side in his bed.

“It’s okay Dean, I know. I could tell you wanted to try but your stomach is making it rough. I’ll just pack it up in some topper wear and I’ll pack us up and drive us back.” She says.

“Um, no, you’re not driving my car.” Dean says, trying to get up. Only to dry heave while getting up, lurching forward, nothing coming up.

“Dean, you’re in no condition. Neither is Sam. I couldn’t get us to stay longer. You’re just going to have to deal with it.” she says. “I’ll help you out to the car when we’re ready.” She says.

 The drive was smoother than it could have been. Dean passed out in the back seat; Sam curled up in his usual sleeping position when it came to sitting in the passenger seat.

She didn’t like driving older vehicles. They drove like boats, and this was worse, it was a truck. The year wasn’t that far off, but it was old enough. The four door truck had comfy, inviting seats that took Sam and Dean into dreamland in the instant they got comfortable.

She managed to get the cabin just fine, unpacking without jostling them awake. She got their beds ready with cleaner sheets, Sam was easy to wake up. He was eager to get into a bed. Dean was reluctant, already cozy and relaxed he was content with sleeping in the truck.

“Dean, you can’t stay in here. You’ll make your fever worse.” She says, nudging him awake more.

“Fine.” He mumbles, sitting up sluggishly. Shoulders slumped.

“Come on Dean, I’ll help you.” She says.

“I can walk myself.” He snaps. He’s grumpy.

She snapped her hand away from him, letting him walk himself. But kept to herself after that. But it didn’t really stop her from checking in on him.

Cleaning the cabin she put on her phone her music she’d sing to while doing such chores. Grew up on country music she listened to some old Keith Urban Music, from his albums Defy Gravity, Love, Pain and the Whole Crazy thing, and Be Here, she dusted singing along to Standin’ Right in Front of You.

“Y/N, please stop singing! I’m trying to sleep!” she heard Dean shout from his room.

Feeling guilty, she just hummed the song as she cleaned. She felt bad for a minute, the feeling sticking with her throughout her cleaning.

She cooked up more soup for the boys, cleaned, and once done she just jammed out on the couch with the TV on Spanish Soap Operas. Trying to shake the guilt feeling she had early, as it crept back up on her.

 That night, after the boys ate and got situated for bed, one Winchester had something on his mind.

She was watching cable television, surfing here and there trying to get away from Spanish Soaps, but always finding her way back when finding nothing else on. She heard the floor creak behind her.

Her headphones were off, music off, just relaxing watching TV, she turned to see the older Winchester standing adjacent of the couch. Looking exhausted.

“You’re not coming to bed?” he asked. Voice still rough from being sick.

“I’m not tired. Besides, you need the bed. You’re still sick.” She says softly.

“You’ve been cleaning all day, taking care of me and Sam, you’ve got to be exhausted.” He says, something off about his tone.

“Dean, it’s fine. Just go back to bed, rest.” She says kindly.

He doesn’t say anything to that, but sits on the couch with her.

“Do you even like Spanish Soap Operas?” he asks, hiding a chuckle.

“I don’t like Soap Operas period.” She says. “But we got only cable TV, and it’s 2 in the morning. There’s nothing on.” She says.

“I’m sensing there’s more going on.” Dean goes.

“Dean, why are you up in the first place?” She asks. “You’re sick, you need to rest to get better.” She adds.

“Well see, there’s this girl. She’s more than a friend to me. I’ve been kind of a dick to her lately.” He says.

“Dean, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have babied you; I should have kept it down when I was cleaning. It’s fine.” She says.

“And I know how sensitive you are, and can be. You love to take care of those you love. I’m the same way.” He says. “I guess I was more mad at myself for getting sick, I was so fixated on finding Dick I even didn’t care how sick I got.” He adds.

“You got a drive in you it’s scary, but it’s fine Dean. You’re only human. You have limitations, we all do. But you got to recognize your physical limitations and give yourself a break, and then get back at it again when you’re better.” She says.

“Back at you sweetheart.” He goes.

“Huh?” she asks.

“You got to know your mental limitations too. I’ve noticed how quiet you’ve been getting since we got sick. Plus, in the past, I’ve seen it happen. Sam mentioned it to me, Bobby knew it. Depression. It’s no joke Y/N. You got to take care of yourself mentally too.” Dean says.

She locks up, her walls going on. And he sees her tense. “And it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. but you can’t bottle it up. You got to deal with it. But you don’t have to do it alone.” He adds.

She nods, fiddling with her fingers.

“What has that demon told you in your head lately?” he asks.

“I’m not doing good enough to care for you or Sam.” She says quietly. Voice beginning to crack. “Stop trying.” She adds.

“You know that’s bull shit right?” he asks. He can see her shake her head.

“You snapped at me, yelled at me to keep it down.” she says. “That’s when it started getting bad.” She adds.

“And now?” he asks.

“It’s saying he’s going to throw you out; he doesn’t want you or your issues. You’re too much for him.” She says. Her throat holding back a sob.

“I’d never do that to you. You’re more than my friend, you’re my girl. I know I haven’t been the best friend lately. But I’m here now. Yes I’m sick, but I want to be there for my girl.” He says. “I’ll kick this demons ass for you, just tell me what you need.” He adds.

“I’m about to have a panic attack, I can feel it come on, can you hold me through it?” she asks, her voice disappearing.

Not saying a word, he invites her in his arms, and the two cuddle on the couch as she cries her eyes out, shakes and trembles, and works to get her breathing under control.

After a while she fallen asleep in the Older Winchester’s arms, when a wooden creak can be heard in the living room.

“How is she holding up?” Sam asks, walking in.

“She’s asleep now, that was a bad attack from the looks of it.” Dean says.

“How are you feeling by the way?” Sam asks.

“Better, but still a little under the weather. You?” He says.

“A bit better. Just a sore throat now.” Sam answers.

“I say we take care of her tomorrow, even if she’s not sick, but she needs us.” Dean says.

“I agree with that.” Sam says. “You up to carrying her or?” He asks.

“Dude, I’m exhausted. And I really don’t want to move her. Just grab us a blanket and some pillows, we’ll crash here.” Dean says with a groan.

“Sure thing.” Sam says with a tired smile. Heading into Dean’s room, grabbing a few blankets, a couple of pillows and heads back to the couch covering them up, and handing Dean the pillows.

“Night Jerk.” Sam goes.

“Night Bitch.” Dean says.

 Sun rose high that morning. Dean woke up with, feeling a warm spot on his chest. Seeing her still asleep, not moving from her spot.

Brushing a strand of hair back, his fingers grace over her forehead. His brows furrow when he feels how warm she feels.

She moans, waking up, causing a dry cough.

“Sounds like someone got sick.” Dean says.

“I feel sick too.” She says, her voice rough and scratchy.

“I finally get to return the favor, and take care of you for a change.” He says with a big grin, hugging her close making her giggle.

“I’m loving it so far.” She says hugging him back.

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 10/2/2020

~

Dean Taglist:

@pandazombie69​, @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​

[one-boring-person]

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned (Part Nine)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: violence, blood imagery

Context: The first of the SRS has arrived, but thankfully not in large numbers.

A/N: hopefully I'll have a more Halloween-esque part to this out next weekend, so stay tuned for that!😁💛

Masterlist

A shiver runs through my body as I move silently through the back streets of Santa Carla, my hand resting on the gun holstered at my hip, gloved fingers tapping lightly on the deadly weapon as if in anticipation, my muscles taut and ready to spring into action. Unsurprisingly, a cool wind is blowing through town, the late October chill easily seeping into my new, stolen black denim jacket, the new outfit the boys found for me acting as a suitable disguise, seeing as the SRS uniform from before is a little too conspicuous, though the chains rattling quietly by my thigh are a little distracting, and the studs adorning the variety of clothes are a little superfluous, but it does it's part well enough. Thankfully, I got to keep my boots, so at least I'm not getting blisters from any new ones.

Biting my lip, I turn down yet another deserted alley, quickly scanning it for danger, noting the lack of people instantly, though there are a few cars and bins sitting by the surrounding walls here and there, each of them providing sufficient cover for a person, or multiple persons. Slowly, I edge forwards, watching the surroundings for any movement, aware that there could be danger at any moment, my heart pounding as I clock the lack of sound in the area, suddenly aware of the fact that there are no working streetlamps on this particular strip of alley, leaving it completely cloaked in darkness. Uneasy, I stop still, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Very carefully, I take off my gloves, placing them in my pocket as I listen closely to the eerie silence, watching the dark space in front of me, hoping to catch anything, should it come closer.

My head snaps round in the direction of a muted footstep, my fingers wrapping around the stock of the gun, pulling it from its holster and smoothly cocking it, flicking off the safety as I turn towards the noise. Mechanically, I lift the weapon a little higher, calming my racing heart before I step over towards the car the noise came from, holding my breath as I try to make out any shapes in the suffocating blackness, finding it nigh-on impossible to do so.

As I approach the car, I lift the gun higher still, edging around the seemingly abandoned vehicle, keeping my eyes trained on the space in front of me, my training kicking in as a dull calm spreads through me, keeping me from moving erratically, everything around me filtering out as I round the bonnet of the car.

A sudden blow to my upper back throws me forwards into the wall ahead of me, the air leaving my lungs as I collide with it painfully, tears springing to my eyes as my nose makes contact, the gun falling from my hands. Recovering quickly, I duck down before the second punch can come, a stifled yelp of surprise escaping my attacker as their fist connects with the hard surface, their knuckles most likely cracking from the force, causing them to reel back a little, leaving me time to spin around and jump back upright again. Without pausing, I swing my fist round into their exposed ribs, feeling the bones give slightly under the impact, my other hand coming round to land a hard blow to their descending face, their body whipping to the side in response. I move closer, intending to grab them, only for them to suddenly lunge forwards and shove me up against the wall, fists pummeling my sides, low grunts of pain leaving my lips as I grab their shoulders, but to no avail.

After a particularly well-aimed punch to the centre of my collarbones, I have to suck in a sharp breath of air, wincing as pain explodes through my chest, rendering me momentarily incapable of retaliating, giving my attacker the perfect opportunity to grab my hair and throw me away from the wall, my body violently crashing into the car bonnet as they drop me there, pain quickly spreading through me as I make contact. Under my weight, the windscreen cracks and shatters, shards of glass digging into my back as I skid over them, my attacker advancing on me with a newfound confidence, my eyes swiftly spotting the knife in their hand. Ignoring the blood pouring from my nose and mouth, I quickly roll to the side to avoid a sudden downwards thrust of the blade, dropping off of the car and onto the floor, going to get up, only to be stopped by a hand grasping my hair again, yanking my head back and pressing the knife to my throat. Eyes going wide, I take hold of their arm and press against it, feeling the icy sting of the blade just cutting into my skin, panic starting to well up in my body as I fight against their strength, only to find them slowly overpowering me.

With one last push, I drive an elbow backwards, catching them in the knee with enough force to make them buckle a little, giving me the chance to duck out of their grip and throw them onto their back on the floor, swiftly pinning then down as I grab my own knife from my pocket, wincing as they manage to use their's to leave a long gash down one of my arms. Putting my knife to their throat, I press down until they stop struggling, the two of us breathing very heavily as we calm ourselves, both waiting for the next move.

When nothing happens, I go to lean back slightly, only for my captive to suddenly write underneath me, kicking me backwards a little so that I have to stretch out my arms to keep myself upright. In doing so, however, I manage to lodge my knife in their thigh, a scream of agony tearing itself from their lips at their self-inflicted wound, blood starting to ooze out from around the base of the weapon, colourful curses and swears aimed at me accompanying the whines and whimpers of pain that follow. Climbing off of them, I swiftly grab their wrists and use the rope at my belt to tie them together, ignoring their pleas and begging, the voice now distinctly male as they try to appeal to my better nature, seemingly forgetting that they just tried to kill me.

I don't look at their face, turning to their newly sustained wound, thinking things over, before making a split decision. Pulling another rope from my belt, I tie it around the top of his thigh, pulling it tight to stop the bleeding, choosing to leave the weapon in place as I work, eventually telling him to shut up as he continues to ramble on.

*

"Who the hell is that and why the fuck is he here?!" David growls at me as I eventually manage to drag the Scout into the cave, a trail of dirt mapping out the path I used as I manoeuvre my way around the messy interior.

"This," I start, dropping the man's legs as I find a better source of light, "Is a Scout, someone sent to find me before the rest of the Clean-up Team arrives. He's here because we're taking him hostage."

Kneeling down beside the now-unconscious man, I turn my attention to the knife protruding from his leg, quickly deciding how to go about this. Taking hold of the Scout's knife, I carefully cut away the fabric of his trousers around the wound, gently testing how tightly the knife is wedged into the muscle, before dropping the weapon in my hand and grabbing a piece of nearby cloth.

"A hostage? Why are you taking a hostage?" David continues to interrogate me, scowling at me as I yank the knife from the wound and use the fabric to staunch the flow of blood that rushes out.

"So that I have some leverage over them when they come for me, though I'm not too sure how well they'll react to this." I muse out loud, only now realising that the platinum blonde vampire across from me is having a hard time controlling himself, "Sorry, I forgot that this would be difficult for you guys."

A small part of me is glad that David is the one who volunteered to stay behind tonight to keep watch with me, given that he seems to have the most self control (apart from Dwayne) when it comes to blood; if it was Paul, the Scout would be dead by now.

David just huffs, sitting in his wheelchair sullenly as he waits for me to finish, blue eyes watching me as I examine the wound.

"Hey, do you think you could get the med-kit from my rucksack, please? I need to stitch this or he'll bleed out." I ask him quietly, hoping he'll agree.

The vampire rolls his eyes, but stands and gets the kit anyway, handing it to me with a grunt. Thanking him, I take out a needle and thread, sterilizing them both as I prepare them for use, removing the makeshift bandage from the wound and leaning in to start sewing the edges shut.

"Where did you learn to do that?" David asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

"This? I learnt on the job, a few years ago. Some werewolf caught me with its claws when I got too close. I had to stitch myself up, so I learned from the experience." I explain dismissively, remembering the incident well.

"A werewolf?" The vampire questions, seemingly confused, "Where was that?"

"Somehwere in Texas, I think. I don't really remember the specifics. Why?"

"Oh, I wasn't aware that there were still werewolves in this country."

"Really?! You can't possibly think you're the only supernatural beings left in the U.S?" I ask, incredulous.

"I've been stuck in Santa Carla for as long as I can remember, so I wouldn't know." He chuckles in response, "What're you gonna do with him when he wakes up?"

I shrug.

"Talk to him, interrogate him. I just need to know how close the SRS are to finding me."

"How close do you think they are?" David queries quietly.

I sigh to myself, sitting back on my heels as I finish the job.

"Honestly, I'd rather not think about it."

Part Ten

[home-and-having-tea]

umm klaus, "dont judge me, but i may have murdered someone"

 Ok, just a fair warning, I’m kinda in the mood for dumbass-wholesome-family fics rn so....

Allison started awake to a loud rapping on her door. Blearily squinting at the time blinking red on her alarm clock, she quietly cursed whoever decided to loudly wake her at 3:28 in the morning. She slowly rolled out of bed, the pounding on her door making her head throb. Bundling her blanket around her shoulders like a cape, she stumbled to the door. Opening it, she nearly got a punch to the face as the person kept knocking, momentarily not noting the absence of door. Their green eyes lit up when they noticed Allison slumped in the doorway.

Klaus grinned sheepishly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t judge me, but I may have murdered someone.”

“Allison! How is my most dearest sister this lovely-”

“Goddamnit Klaus, you know it’s the middle of the night? Someone had better be dying.”

Allison’s eyes widened and she rubbed her thumbs against her temples, dropping her blanket to the floor with a soft whoomph. “Klaus, for Christ’s sake, you better be joking.”

Grabbing her car keys and locking the house behind her, Allison followed Klaus out to her driveway. She silently started the car, Klaus sliding into the passenger’s seat. Before she left the house she sighed, tiredly resting her head against the steering wheel. She loved her brother, but god, he was an idiot.

“Who do you think you killed, Klaus?” she asked, her words muffled by the wheel. He laughed nervously.

“Well, tonight was boy’s night out, y’know, all the Hargreeves bros out on the town,” he explained, waving his hands around as he talked. “And we all got kinda tipsy, and well, we got to, erm, practicing those weird little jujitsu moves Dad taught us. And, it turns out fighting little Five isn’t a great idea now that he’s... little. He, uh, might currently be unconscious” Allison groaned into the wheel. She took it back. All of her brothers were idiots. 

She slowly peeled her face off the wheel, starting the car as she glared ahead. “If Five isn’t dead, I’m going to make you all wish you were,” she muttered, adding something about how doing martial arts drunk was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard of. They drove in prickly silence, Klaus occasionally tapping quiet beats on the window with his fingertips, his sparkly pink nails picking up the light of passing neon signs. 

Allison looked over when they stopped at a red light. Klaus looked, if anything, scared. She gently tapped the back of his hand. Sure, she was still a little mad and very worried, but she knew Klaus would blame himself endlessly if anything happened to Five. Since they’d gotten back from the sixties, the whole family had silently agreed that they’d look after Five, who desperately needed safety, love, and most of all, a nice three-day nap.

“Hey, Klaus, I’m sure Five is alright. Don’t beat yourself up.”

He smiled weakly. “Beating myself up? Who, me? Never happened, missy.” Allison smiled back reassuringly, turning her attention back to the road as the light turned green.

“Knowing that tiny old man, he’s probably bitching about how you must have cheated to beat the incredible Number Five in a fight,” she said teasingly. It would probably take a lot more than bad judgement and poorly thought out jujitsu to kill him. Klaus drily chuckled back.

“It’s like trying to kill a cockroach, right?”

Allison nodded as they pulled into the bar’s parking lot. “Exactly. He’s gonna be okay, you’ll see.” She quickly parked the car and grabbed the first aid kit from her trunk before hurrying in. As soon as she entered the bar, her still-slightly-intoxicated brothers waved her over to a large booth near the back. Just as she’d suspected, Five was nursing a bleeding cut with a developing bruise around its edges, snapping bitter comments under his breath.

She set down the first aid kit. “Okay, is everyone alive?” Half-hearted mutters met in response. “I’ll take that as a yes. Right, everyone but Five go wait in the car with Klaus, and no damn fighting.” The boys shuffled out to the parking lot, occasionally stumbling against each other as they moved. 

Allison slid into the booth, taking an alcohol wipe out of the kit. Five shrunk back, mumbling something about how it would hurt to clean the cut. She placed the package down. “Five, look, it’s almost four in the morning. I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted. Just let me clean this and we can go home and sleep this all this shit off.” He crossed his arms, but at least stayed still while she wiped off the blood and covered the wound with a thick square of gauze. “Right, that should hold you until morning. I’ll check you for a concussion once you’re a little more sober.” Honestly, what kind of bar did the boys go to where no one noticed a child knocking back a few pints? Good lord. “Ready to go?”

Five nodded, still sulking. They both stood, only to have Five almost immediately trip over his own feet. Allison sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Once they were all sober, she was going to actually kill them. “Just... lean on me. You can sleep in the car on the way back to my house.” Five quietly exhaled, leaning lightly on Allison’s shoulder as she packed up the kit and the two made their way outside at a snail’s pace. 

Once they made it to the car, her three brothers moved from where they were leaning on the doors. Klaus walked up to them nervously. 

“Is Five ok, Alli?” he asked, rubbing his nails like he always did when he was suffering anxiety. She nodded, smiling drily, before opening the door to the backseat. Five slumped in, falling asleep the second his head touched the headrest. Allison pinched the bridge of her nose, her head aching from the stress of trying to take care of her brothers.

“Everyone in. Since you possibly gave Five a concussion, we’re having a family lockdown at my house to look after him. Someone call Vanya...”

The ride back to her house was uncomfortably silent, save Klaus calling a very disgruntled, tired Vanya about the impromptu sleepover and the bumper of her car scraping the road due to Luther’s weight. Pulling into her driveway, she piled her brothers out of the car, picking up an exhausted Five. She fumbled with her keys for a moment before Diego offered to get the door for them. Her bones feeling like lead, she led the boys to the carpeted living room. Gently laying Five on the couch, she made a mental list of what she’d need to take care of four boys with no self-preservation.

“The blankets are in the corner, and I’ll go get water and Advil. You guys are absolutely going to need it in the morning.”

She returned minutes later, her arms loaded with pillows, water bottles, and a bottle of headache meds. Placing them on the coffee table, she unpacked a half dozen blankets, laying a few on Five and leaving the rest for Diego, Luther, and Klaus to divy up. Feeling a major panic attack from overworking coming on, she sunk into an arm chair, letting the night catch up with her. Before she could actually get any rest, the doorbell rang and she scurried to the door to let in Vanya. Who Klaus had apparently told very little about their situation.

“Is... is everything alright? Klaus sounded pretty worried on the phone,” Vanya inquired, her eyes filled with concern. Allison groaned, quickly running through an explanation of the night. Vanya’s eyes widened even further. “Allison, you look exhausted. Why don’t you go get some rest? I had some experience looking after Harlan when he got hurt, and I doubt Five will be too different.”

“Oh my god, thank you Vanya. I feel like I’m either going to strangle them or fall asleep standing up. Or possibly both...” The two sisters giggled as they made their way back to the living room. The boys were quietly bickering over who got which blanket. 

“No more fighting,” Allison yawned. “You guys owe me big time.”