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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 5 months ago

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Valentía: Plain Sight

Season One Masterlist

Won't Get Fooled Again

Broken Mirror

Summary: Spencer Reid's twenty-fourth birthday party is interrupted when they are put on the "Tommy Killer", a serial rapist and killer in San Diego who rapes, murders, and glues his victims' eyes open.

Warning: Mentions of rape, Mention of Zoe's criminal ex-boyfriend; Spencer pining after Zoe but not admitting it; Zoe's emotional walls; Hints of past vague assault of main character; Season Six Arc References and Spoilers, Emily Prentiss Cameo; Mentions of a post-traumatic Trigger pushing on repressed memories; Vomiting

"Just be yourself. Let people see the real, imperfect, flawed, quirky, weird, beautiful, and magical person that you are." — Mandy Hale

October twelfth. Spencer Reid's birthday. His twenty-fourth.

They had a cake that Zoe had specifically baked but no one other than Alexander knew that.

"Make a wish!" Elle said and Spencer blew on the candles but them being trick candles, they came back on.

"Come on, man! Blow, baby, blow!" Morgan teased.

"I thought you were full of hot air, Reid." Elle joked.

"Come on, Reid!” Morgan teased.

"They're trick candles, Spencer, Okay? They're gonna come back on every time." JJ explained but that didn’t deter him from trying.

"Aww, mommy to the rescue." Morgan teased, tugging on Spencer's ridiculous but cute birthday hat... which Zoe didn't care about.

"Mommy?”

“Ignore him. He’s actually a mommy’s boy.” Zoe said.

“Hey, Reid. Does it make you legal yet? And how old are you turning this month, Zoe?”

“Twenty.” She said, blankly. “Twenty the thirty-first.”

“A whole year until you’re legal.” Morgan teased.

“In Mexico, the drinking age is eighteen. I could just go there, Mama’s boy.”

“Your birthday’s in nineteen days? Halloween?” Spencer asked her curiously as the cake was cut.

“Yeah.” She said, shortly.

“Doing anything special?”

“Yeah, will we meet your mama? I bet you were a mama’s girl.”

“Uh, no, she’s dead.” Zoe said, blankly and Morgan quickly shut up.

Behind them was Hotch, Gideon, and Alexander, “Isn't it amazing he knows what he knows and he's only twenty-four?”

“Imagine what he'll know by fifty.” Gideon said.

“Imagine what Zoe will know. She’s been smarter than me since she was three and she could beat David at the Sunday crossword puzzle in pen.” Alexander said, looking at his daughter. Gideon smiled, remembering how cranky Rossi had been.

“So how are we supposed to put these out?” Morgan asked.

Zoe had gotten a metal bowl and plucked the candles off and dropped them in.

“A little water will solve that. Trick candles relite due to the magnesium powder in the wick.”

“Magnesium is a highly reactive metal when powdered or sliced thinly. It can ignite at temperatures as low as eight hundred Fahrenheit.” Spencer said.

“Yes, it is, Spencer. And when the flame is blown out the remaining red ember relights it. Just cut off the oxygen supply with water.” Zoe added.

“How do you know all this?” Elle asked.

“My dad’s a big fan of trick candles.” Zoe said, glancing at said father before taking the bowl to the sink and dosing the flames in cold water as Alexander joined her.

"Hope you like chocolate." Elle said as Hotch was called by a fellow agent.

“You havin' fun?” Gideon asked.

“Yes. Definitely. I'm definitely having fun.” Spencer said, rather dully, not used to having so much attention of him as his mother often forgot his birthday due to her Paranoia Schizophrenic disorder, heck, she couldn’t feed herself, Spencer had to remind her since he was ten after his dad just left and hadn’t seen him since, but he’d have to be an idiot not to realize how much his mother loved him.

“Make a wish?” Gideon asked.

Spencer subconsciously glanced at Zoe who was smacking Morgan’s hand away from the cake and when he did it again, she sprayed him in the face like a misbehaving kitten with a spray bottle full of water. He looked back at Gideon, “Can I take this hat off?

Gideon’s eyes went up to the hat, he knew Zoe had specially ordered for Spencer’s birthday. “I wouldn't.”

“Hey, Spence. First piece for the birthday boy." Zoe called with a rare, sweet smile on her face that brought heat up to Spencer's cheeks.

Spencer started to head over before he turned to Gideon, “Do you know she's the only person in the whole world who calls me 'Spence’.”

Spencer came over to eat his piece of cake as Zoe smacked Morgan's hand again.

Hotch hung up the phone and announced to his team, "Sorry, guys. Party's over."

They met back up in the conference room.

"We're going to San Diego." Hotch said as he and JJ entered the room with the details about the case

"But not for the surfing, huh?" Morgan quipped.

"They're calling him the 'Tommy Killer'." JJ said, placing the files down.

"Six women raped and murdered in their homes in the last three weeks." Hotch said.

"Six in three weeks?" Elle asked.

"That's a short fuse." Gideon said.

"And getting shorter. First two were eight days apart, then the next four in two weeks.

"Rapid escalation." Spencer identified, "You think he's regressing to a psychopathic frenzy?

"No, he's too controlled for that." Hotch said. "See you on the plane." Then he got up to leave.

"Why the 'Tommy Killer'?" Morgan asked.

"You know the rock opera?" Hotch asked, turning back, "Well, this UnSub glues his victims' eyes wide open."

Zoe's memory went back to those eight months, it had almost always been pitch black.

"He wants them to see him." Spencer said.

"And feel him."

Zoe got up and left to get ready.

Then her phone rang, it was an unknown but from the area code, she knew it was from Italy. Only one person in Italy would call her today of all days.

"Come sta la ragazza più ribelle di tutto l'FBI?" Asked the undercover agent.

"È questo il saluto che ricevo dalla festeggiata? Non ti sento da otto mesi." Zoe said into the phone with a teasing tone.

"Non è il mio compleanno."

"Potrebbe non essere il compleanno di Lauren ma è il compleanno di Emily."

She chuckled. "I haven't been her in while."

"Where are you, are you safe?" Zoe asked.

"Yeah, I'm away from the villa right now. I don't think he suspects anything, I knew you might track me down if I didn't call."

"Damn right, I would, but unfortunately I've got a case so it will have to wait."

"Oh, you've been at the BAU for almost seven months now. How's it going?"

"Really, great. I already knew some and obviously Dad. But I've been dreaming of this since... forever. Even if they don't know who I really am."

"I know how that is." Emily said and then said, sympathetically, "How are you?"

"Since those six months or when I had to track him down?" Zoe asked.

"Either."

"You know how I am."

"Unfortunately I do."

"How close do you think you are?"

"I'm afraid I can't comment on it with you anymore. You already know more than you should. You shouldn't have done what you've already done."

"It helped, didn't it?"

"So, what's the case?"

"Uh, there's a serial killer in San Diego, he's raping women and killing them by strangling them with some kind of cord or wire and gluing their eyes open." She talked about it with Emily who was talented in profiling but she didn't often do serial killers.

Spencer left the conference room a little bit later and he saw Zoe at her desk on the phone with a smile on her face. He wondered who was making her smile.

When he got to the jet, he noticed something in his go-bag. A gift. A rectangle wrapped in gift wrap, it seemed to be a book.

———————————————————————————

French poet Jacques Rigaut said, "Don't forget that I cannot see myself, that my role is limited to being the one who looks in the mirror."

Hotch walked the length of the plane, handing photos of the victims to his team members, "Brenda Samms was found yesterday by her children when they got home from school. She had been strangled with a thin ligature, possibly a wire.

"No weapon left at the scene."

"Residue on the wrists and mouth indicate that duct tape was used, then removed." Spencer said.

"Also not found at the scene." Hotch added.

"Brought it with him, took it with him." Elle said.

"He also started leaving messages at the fourth scene, this was on the mirrors." Hotch said as Gideon was sketching eyes.

"Fair lady, throw those costly robes aside, no longer may you glory in your pride, take leave of all your carnal vain delight..." Alexander read, he frowned why did that sound familiar.

"I've come to summon you away this night." Spencer finished.

"It's a ballad from the late 1600s. A Dialogue Betwixt Death and a Lady."

"The Great Messenger of Mortality." Zoe recalled.

Morgan extended his hands like, how in the world do they know that? While Gideon and Alexander smiled with pride.

"A seventeenth-century ballad?" Elle asked.

"Yeah, essentially a woman begging Death to live." Spencer said.

"What kind of person knows this ballad?" Elle asked.

"People who read." Zoe deadpanned but Elle ignored her.

"Are we looking for a literature professor?" Elle asked.

"Well, anyone with an Internet connection, actually. You should see what comes up when you type 'death' into a search engine."

“Reid, no wonder you can’t get a date.” Morgan joked, Zoe noticed the shift in Spencer’s eyes.

“When was the last time you had a date after sex?” Zoe quipped.

“When was the last time you had a date?” Morgan countered.

“Depends what you mean by date.” Zoe said with a sudden darker undertone, looking over the file. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly.

"What?" Morgan asked, his demeanor suddenly changing.

Zoe’s phone beeped on the table next to her lighting up with M.D.

"Of course, I only know it because my mom was a big reader and she annotated books before, you know..." She trailed off, biting her lip.

Oh. Spencer's eyes softened. It seemed her mother's death still weighed on Zoe.

"Reid, Zoe you two stay on the messages. See if there's a deeper meaning." Gideon said, "Do you have the notes your mother wrote?"

"I might have scanned it so I could have a digital copy. She... you wouldn't believe how many books she wrote notes on for... me." Us. Zarah and me.

"Well, it definitely looks like he ransacked the crime scene pretty well." Morgan said, showing the picture they all had.

"A lot of damage, nothing taken." Hotch said.

"Well, the eyes are the thing. The signature. The behavior that isn't necessary for the murder, but necessary for the emotional release. That's what he's there for.

"There used to be a widely held belief that the eyes record a snapshot of the last thing a person sees before they die." Spencer said.

"Optography. They used them in Jules Verne novels but it's a myth." Zoe said.

"People used to write poems about talking to Death." Morgan said.

"Ballads." Spencer and Zoe said.

"Whatever." Morgan scoffed.

"You think they'll ever run out of new things to do to their victims?"

Zoe let out a nearly inaudible scoff, she knew more than anyone in that room that that what people they hunted were good at.

"Well, finding new ways to hurt each other is what we're good at." Gideon said.

———————————————————————————

Task Force Headquarters

SAN DIEGO POLICE DEPARTMENT

The team apart of from Hotch, Zoe, and JJ went past the detective in charge of the case. He held his hand out to Hotch, the first who didn't look right past him.

"Captain Griffith, Task Force Commander."

"Sorry. We all get tunnel vision." Hotch apologized for his team. "Um, I'm Special Agent Hotchner. This is Agent Jareau, our liaison. And this is Doctor Zoe Valdez, she's one of our special agents."

The girls shook his hand. "I appreciate you coming out."

"Thanks. Hope we can help." Zoe smiled, "Uh, excuse me." She went past him to get set up, going over to Spencer where he was looking at the pictures of the

"‘My name is death. Have you not heard of me? You may as well be mute’.” Spencer trailed off to reading silently.

JJ was looming over Spencer's shoulder.

"Creepy, huh?"

“No.” Zoe said, giving her an irritated look.

"Actually, uh, conversations between Death and his victims was a fairly popular literary and artistic theme throughout the Renaissance." Spencer said and JJ stared at him. "Yeah, creepy."

“Do you need something, JJ?�� Zoe’s tone was sharp, defensive. Then Zoe’s phone rang and she picked it up, “Hey, M.D.” She got up and walk off.

"What's her problem?"

"Her mother's death, I think." Spencer shrugged.

Zoe shortly came back, she had her laptop out and was going through files upon files of scanned books that were in no way organized.

"Who's M.D.?" Spencer asked, cautiously.

"A friend. I went to Harvard with her." Zoe said, vaguely.

"Were you talking to her before we left?" Spencer asked.

"Huh? Oh, no, that was..." Her smile faltered, "A different friend. She's... she's kind of unable to call very much because of her job. I can't say much but today's her birthday too, so she knows to call so I don't track her down. She's thirty-five today."

"I-I'm sorry about your mom."

"Hmm?"

"You mom. I'm sorry. I... I didn't have much of a dad, he walked out when I was ten, so my mom was all I had and I was a twelve-year-old in a Las Vegas public high school, so I didn't have many friends. So, I just... I'm sorry."

"It's no problem. It happened nearly two decades ago." She shrugged but Spencer could see her grief and guilt.

"But you're only nineteen. How old were you when she died?"

"Little." Zoe said. "These books are really all I have of her. Of who she really was as a person. I think she would've like you and she would've said to not hold back your passion for these things for anyone, not even JJ. But you are unequivocally you and as Oscar Wilde, 'everyone else is already taken'."

Spencer looked at her, his heart swelling for the closed off girl before he cleared his throat and said, "it looks like what he's written at the scenes are most of the first three verses of the same ballad."

Zoe pressed a button on her laptop, making the screen go black and locking it and scanned the lines. "It's only Death's lines." She realized. "Go tell Hotch."

———————————————————————————

Zoe had wanted to help the woman who survived a similar home invasion and rape attempt. She had found her file on the poem and printed paper copies of it.

Elle, Hotch, and Zoe entered the house of the survivor, Marcia Gordon.

"Lucky woman." Hotch said as they walked through the kitchen.

"Yeah, well, she's probably not feeling so lucky right about now." Elle said.

"Just don't tell her she's lucky." Zoe said with a note of disgust in her voice.

Marcia and her husband were surrounded by male officers.

The husband of Marcia repeated his description, "He was black and six feet tall. I watched him run out that back door."

Captain Griffith walked to them as he said, "Get a description out in the field ASAP."

"Interracial serial sex crimes are rare." Hotch informed them.

"Are they impossible?" Griffith asked.

"Uh, no."

"Then what's your point?" Griffith asked.

"Only to provide you with information." Hotch said.

Zoe and Elle looked past him to the woman who looked at them. They were the only other women in the house. Zoe couldn't remember much of the days after she was found again. Any of the times. But she knows why she's kept quiet about what happened. Because all the people who helped raise her were men. Even if she knew they wouldn't judge her, she knew telling them what happened would make her feel weak.

"I'm going to go talk to her." Zoe spoke.

"Me too." Elle said.

"May I ask why?" Griffith asked.

A note of danger appeared into Zoe's eyes. "She was nearly raped, and she's surrounded by men." Zoe said, simply and then walked past him.

"Mrs. Gordon? I'm Doctor Zoe Valdez with the BAU of the FBI but you can call me Zoe," Zoe said and Elle arrived, "This is my college, Elle Greenaway."

"Would you like to go outside?" Elle asked.

Mrs. Gordon hesitated.

"It's all right. We're just going to go some place quiet." Zoe reassured her.

Zoe and Elle took Mrs. Gordon outside to the patio, "I really don't know that much about him." She insisted.

"You don't have to." Zoe said, "Just take a little time to collect your thoughts. To just sit here. Breathe."

"You two don't want to ask me questions?" Mrs. Gordon asked.

"Not until you're ready." Zoe said.

"We'll be right behind that doorway." Elle said and Zoe got up and they started to walk to the sliding door that led them out of the house.

"I didn't even know he was in the house. Is that common?" She said.

Zoe and Elle came back and Zoe sat back down, "Very."

"He slapped me from behind, and pulled me down on the floor. I tried to scratch him and bite him, but he was so strong. And then my husband came home from work. He screamed, and the man ran out the door." Mrs. Gordon said.

"He was a black man?" Elle asked.

"Bill was sure of it, but I... I only remember his eyes." Mrs. Gordon said and Zoe forced herself not to shift. "When we were fighting, I kept staring him right in the eyes. I remember thinking, if he's going to kill me, then he's going to have to look at me while he does.

Zoe's memory flashed back to when she was twelve years old. His eyes peered at her through the mask. They were hazel-brown but not like Spencer's, they were lighter in color but darker in soul. No empathy. No remorse. Still with the dark warehouse she was in and the shadows from the mask, she could still see the gold tint of them.

"And he just kept staring back at me through the ski mask."

Zoe almost didn't catch it but she did a double take, "Did you just say ski mask?"

———————————————————————————

When they returned to the station, Zoe made her way to the bathroom, she felt sick. Like the repressed memories, she wanted to keep repressed forever were itching to the surface, she made her away for the nearest toilet before throwing up into it, flashes of those eyes kept coming back. Not just in that moment but flashes of those eyes in her repressed memories. Those five days.

During the eight months, three years later, she was never allowed to see. But in those five days, he had wanted to see her eyes, to see if she ever showed fear. What Mrs. Gordon did was exactly what Zoe would've done. If he was going to kill her, he was going to have to look her in the eye.

———————————————————————————

They were ready for the profile, they had realized that he had started leaving the verses because the police hadn't connected his crimes yet, so he wasn't getting enough attention.

"The UnSub brought his weapons with him. Tape, glue, wire. He did not leave them at the scene. He took them when he left." Gideon told the room of cops, the BAU stood spread in front of them and in front of the victim boards apart from Zoe, Gideon had reassured them that she was fine and to continue on without her. "He has a kind of killing kit that he carries."

"Organized killers usually have a skilled job, likely technology related, which may involve the use of the hands." Hotch continued, "The crime scenes are far enough apart that he needs a vehicle. This will be well-kept, obsessively clean, as will be his home. He's diurnal, the attacks occur during the day, so the vehicle may be related to his work, possibly a company car or truck."

"We believe he watches the victims for a time, learns the rhythms of the home, knows his time frame." Morgan said.

"You're not going to catch him accidentally." Hotch added.

"He destroys symbols of wealth in the victims' homes. He harbors envy of and hatred toward people of a higher social class." Gideon said. "He feels invisible around them."

"Class is the theme of the poem which he left at the various crime scenes. At one point in the poem, the woman attempts to bribe Death, but he doesn't accept it." Spencer said as Zoe reentered the room, "He says this is the one moment when riches mean nothing. When Death comes, poor and the rich are exactly alike."

"So he's poor?" An officer asked.

"Probably middle-class. A decidedly lower-class person would stick out in a highly patrolled neighborhood." Hotch said. "This guy appears to belong there. He blends in."

"Why does he glue the eyes open?" An officer asked.

"The UnSub is an exploitative rapist." Zoe spoke up as she joined them, next to Spencer who looked at her concerned, "Most rape victims close their eyes during the attack, turn their heads. For some rapists, this ruins the fantasy.

"For this type of rapist, the goal is more related to the victim watching him than the act itself." Elle continued.

"The verses, the staging, the aggressive language, 'I am Death.' This is a guy who, while being in control at the crime scene, almost certainly feels inadequate in the rest of his life." Alexander said.

"That's why he couldn't wait for you to figure out what he'd done." Gideon said, standing back up. "Why he needed to make sure all his crimes were counted. His victims. They represent whatever it is that's controlling him, and he wants that control back. He is under the thumb of a powerful woman who frightens him. And a final point, he is white."

"We have witnesses that identify him as a black male." Griffith said.

"The attacker was black. He is not the Tommy Killer." Gideon said.

"Mrs. Gordon's husband came home at the same time that he always does. The Tommy Killer would have known that." Hotch continued.

"And Mrs. Gordon's attacker wore a ski mask." Elle added. "The UnSub knows when he walks into a house he's going to kill the woman who lives there. If you're not leaving any witnesses, why wear a ski mask?"

Zoe shifted her weight.

"And he wants the victim to see him anyway." Morgan added.

"Your attempted rapist is a garden-variety, disorganized young man." Alexander said.

"As the victim's age goes up, generally the attacker's age goes down. Mrs. Gordon is about sixty, which puts her rapist at about twenty." Elle said.

"And it takes years to develop the level of calm and sophistication that Tommy displays at a crime scene. And the rapist is far too young for that." Gideon added.

"Mrs. Gordon told me that there's a young man who delivers groceries to their home. He fits a lot of what we're describing here." Elle said.

"Great. So we're back to zero on Tommy." Griffith said.

"Not at all. May I see you in your office for a moment?" Hotch asked, already walking towards said office.

"Zoe," Gideon's voice said, approaching the girl who was like the daughter he never said, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She said.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off?"

"I don't need to take time off, Gideon." She argued.

Hotch walked over, "He's right, Zoe. You became triggered today, it's understandable just take the next few hours off and come back after the conference tonight and we'll be covering the tip line for the public."

———————————————————————————

They arrested Mrs. Gordon's would-be rapist and brought him back during JJ's conference, claiming him to be the Tommy Killer. Zoe was sitting with Spencer and Elle, Zoe was reading one of her mother's annotated books, Villette by Charlotte Brontë when she suddenly threw her head back and groaned, "God, I hate waiting like this. I hate waiting. I hate boredom."

"It's probably your ADHD." Spencer said.

"Obviously, doesn't make it better." Zoe groaned.

"Do either of you think it's weird that I knew that ballad?" Spencer suddenly asked them.

"No." Zoe said.

"I don't know how it is that either of you know half the things you know, but I'm glad you do." Elle said.

“Don’t listen to Morgan, Spence. He’s a playboy. He has sex with no emotional connections, he doesn’t really do... deep unless it’s explicitly pointed out to him. Typical guy. But you're not a typical guy and trust me when it's me saying that. It’s better to be smart and know things about what you do that saves lives than be a playboy of average intelligence who doesn’t know the things you know.” Zoe said.

"Do you think that's why I can't get a date?" Spencer asked.

"You ever ask anyone out?" Elle asked.

"No." Spencer said.

"That's why you can't get a date." Elle said.

"You don't want to be Morgan, Spencer. Just because you want connection over sex. Just means you're not a typical guy." Zoe said.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend, Zoe?" Elle asked.

Zoe went quiet for a moment, "I... had a boyfriend shortly before I joined the BAU, it was on and off for about four years, I mean, we didn't really go on dates when I was fifteen, something... really bad happened and he helped me through it and we bonded and suddenly we were dating and we didn't really break up but we both know that we're not together anymore."

"What happened?"

Zoe hesitated. "He was arrested. He's kind of a criminal, in a high-max prison. He's a hacker. Like better than Garcia level hacker."

"And you were dating him?"

"Like I said, we never properly got together. He was there when I needed someone and he had the unique requirements that he could relate in a way no one else could. He had a hard life. His parents died when he was ten and his life at his uncle and aunt's was less than ideal to say the least, on the streets by twelve, and then..." Her voice trailed off, looking off at the side. Spencer felt a twinge of jealous and sadness.

Zoe then cleared her throat, "If it makes you feel any better, Spence, you're more likely to get a date than I am."

"Why?"

"Women with higher IQ's have a harder time finding a mate. Men are fine dating a woman with a lower IQ than they do."

I don't think I am. Spencer thought.

"Here. This was one of my mom's favorites." She said, handing him a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.

The phone rang and Zoe cleared her throat, picking it up, "Doctor Valdez. This is the San Diego police depart..."

Immediately someone started screaming at her through the phone.

"YOU STUPID BITCH!"

She pulled it from her ear, making gestures and whispering Spanish to the others.

"Line six, Penelope. Line six." JJ said.

Elle put the call on speakerphone as

"You stupid incompetent sons of bitches! I don't make mistakes! I am Death! You hear me? I am Death! You'll see now. Tomorrow. Mark my words, you will see! And while I'm taking her, I'm going to be thinking of you!" Then he hung up.

"I kind of wish a guy had answered him." Zoe muttered.

"Anything?" JJ asked into the phone with Garcia. "She said she got nothing."

"Nothing?" Morgan asked.

"We missed him?" Hotch asked.

"What do you mean, that was long enough to get a location?" Zoe asked, "let me call her, we can figure this out twice as quickly."

———————————————————————————

"We have an undercover car for each of your teams and the entire damned department out there, too." Griffith said, walking to them, the next morning.

"Remember, a truck, maybe a work truck in excellent condition." Gideon reminded him as Zoe arrived with a Mexican hot chocolate and an extra sugary coffee for Spencer.

"Everyone knows."

"All right. He might make a mistake today. He's angry and he probably hasn't done the kind of surveillance he'd like."

"Yeah, well, neither have we. Let's go, Reid.

"Zoe, you go with Morgan and Reid." Gideon said.

"You want to spend all day stuck in a dude car?" Zoe groaned but followed.

———————————————————————————

"Why do keep moving back there?" Morgan complained to Zoe who was in the backseat with her laptop, she kept moving and laying in different positions.

"I don't like cars, they're too cramped, I prefer motorcycles." She whined.

"You do know motorcycles are statistically more likely to crash." Spencer said, disapprovingly.

"Eh." Zoe shrugged. "They're cooler and don't smell like dude."

"I do not smell like dude!" Morgan protested.

"Yeah, you do. I was raised primarily by men. I know what dudes smell like. You smell like dude, the gym, like you coat yourself in baby oil, and either baby powder or that that deodorant powder scent. Spencer smells like bookstore with a coffee shop."

"Oh... thank you?" Spencer blushed.

"It's ten-thirty already."

"All he said was tomorrow, he didn't specify morning." Spencer said.

"Reid, this guy's got to spend a lot of time in that house. A lot. He needs it to be morning." Morgan said.

"Are we sure this is a good spot?" Zoe asked.

"Three of the victims lived within a block of this street. It's the main artery through the neighborhood." Morgan said.

"True, but three victims in the same block could mean he's done with the area." Spencer said.

"Or that he's just really familiar with it." Morgan said.

"And comfortable in it." Spencer added.

"And if he's really familiar with it, he knows to what spots in the neighborhood to avoid." Zoe said.

"But then on the other hand, the other victims lived more than a mile in either direction." Morgan considered. Then he hit the steering wheel. "God, I hate not having a plan."

"Well, that's life." Zoe deadpanned, "You need to relax more. Try reading."

"I don't want to read, Zoe."

"Well, clearly, you don't know the difference between a poem and a ballad." She sassed back.

There was a snickering giggle coming from Spencer but when Morgan looked at him, Spencer was looking in the other direction.

"Shut up." Morgan said and sighed, "We're looking for a needle in a haystack here."

"Actually it's more like we're looking for a needle in a pile of needles." Spencer corrected.

"What?" Morgan asked, incredulously.

"A needle would stand out in a haystack." Spencer pointed out.

"Okay. And we're not looking for someone who stands out."

"No, we're looking for a particular needle in a pile of needles." Spencer said

"Elle tells me your ex-beau's in prison?" Morgan said in a teasing tone.

"Yeah, because he could hack circles around your beau, no offense to Garcia but it's true." Zoe said. Technically it was the truth, he was as hacker and a genius but not why he was arrested.”

"It's the eyes." Zoe suddenly said.

"What are you doing back there?"

"Helping Garcia see how many substations our exploitative rapist unsub routed his call through. That's why Garcia couldn't get a fix on it."

"What do you mean the eyes?"

"There's something off about the eyes." Zoe said.

"What that he glues them open?"

"No, it's just a unique signature for exploitative rapists to force the victim to watch.

———————————————————————————

Gideon realized that if he could reroute the calls through as many as twenty-five substations meant he was a phone technician. They got the name Franklin Graney and Zoe got her motorcycle out and was the first to get there. She spotted an open yellow gate and she stopped her motorcycle and could hear a baby crying. She leaned her bike against the yellow fence and took out her gun as she followed the baby's crying. She spotted a tool belt, one that a phone technician would have.

"AHHHH! AHHH! MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!" The baby was screaming.

"Hey, shh... shh..." Zoe cooed, picking up the baby to calm him down, when she heard raging screams and crashing. He was breaking the riches. She took out her phone and was about to dial Hotch or Gideon when it suddenly it stopped. She turned and saw him, looking at her.

Zoe took off, running up the stairs as Graney chased her but Zoe was much quicker from him, she ran towards the room she could hear the crying from the mother coming from and opened the door, twirling inside. He grabbed the door handle, fighting her for it and Zoe managed to set the baby down and grab it with both hands and she pushed, making it fly open and hit the Graney in the face, making him let go and fall over and she slammed it shut, locking it.

"Help me. Help me." The mother cried through the duct tape on her mouth.

Zoe ran over as Graney pounded on the door and she ripped the tape off and cut the binds.

"Help me barricade the door to save us time." Zoe whispered. Zoe did most of the work since the mother was still in shock. "We don't have much time. Do you think you could crawl out the window?"

"But my baby..."

"Right, of course. It's the suburb, no fire escape. I'm going to have to talk him down or something, I want you to take your son and hide in the closet." She said, "If you hear a gunshot and you don't hear me, get a clothes wire and fight like Laurie Strode. Go. Go!"

The mother ran into the closet with her baby, shushing him.

Graney started shooting and Zoe threw herself backwards, out of the way of the bullets.

He pushed through and pointed his gun at Zoe who pointed her's back.

"FBI! Franklin Graney, put the gun down and put your hands up!" She shouted.

"FBI? I must be a big deal."

"You're raping and killing women. The San Diego department had to call in my department, the BAU." She was stalling.

"What's that?"

"I'm a profiler. I catch people like you by studying their behavior."

"What does mine say?"

"All these women are surrogates for a dominant female figure in your life, based off their age, I'd say your wife. You force them to watch you rape them before you strangle them with a wire and then you glue their eyes open so their dead bodies can watch you go back up those poles, someone they see so often but never see. That gets you off more than the rape itself. But the police department weren't able to connect your signature, the eyes. It was too subtle to you left behind the notes of The Great Messenger of Morality. Only Death's lines."

"You're the girl from the phone last night, aren't you?"

"Yes. You're the one who called me a stupid bitch."

He was approaching her with a hunger in his eyes. "You're just a little girl. Imagine how famous I'll be after I attack a FBI agent."

"I wouldn't do that, Graney." Zoe said, backing away. "I will shoot you and you're out of bullets."

"No, I'm not."

Zoe nodded to his gun. "That's an M1911 pistol. A single-action, recoil-operated, semi-automatic pistol and it only holds seven bullets. You shot seven times."

Graney then grabbed a lamp and threw it at Zoe, making her miss her aim when she shot and he tackled her to the floor.

Her memory went back to that warehouse, those eyes. Those eight months. The countless nights afterwards, she would stifle her sobs into her pillow so her dad wouldn't hear.

Never again.

"Never again!" She grunted as she kicked her foot out, kicking him in the face, he fell back and she stood up, he had her primary gun but she still had her ankle holster, she stood up, pointing her first back-up gun, first of many. "You hear me? Never again."

"Franklin." Gideon's voice said, entering the room, he had spotted Zoe's motorcycle and came upon them.

"I'll shoot her." Franklin said.

"No, you won't, Franklin." Gideon said.

"Yes, I will. I have her gun."

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you." Gideon said. "And we'll just say we caught a low-life burglar. You didn't turn out to be Tommy after all."

"He will remain uncaught. After awhile, people will forget you. You'll be nothing." Zoe added.

"Once every five or ten years they'll do a TV show and they'll ask, 'Whatever happened to that 'Tommy' guy?' 'Why did he disappear'?" Gideon said. "And then they'll stop talking about it altogether. Put the gun down. Come on, walk out of here with us. I'll make sure your face is splashed across every newspaper and TV in the country. Tommy Killer: Franklin Graney. Everyone will see you then. Bundy, Dahmer, Graney, the whole world'll know who you are."

"It's up to you, Franklin. You can be famous, or you can be invisible." Zoe said.

"You'll tell everyone?" Graney asked.

Gideon nodded, "I have a media specialist outside right now. It is your choice."

"Promise?"

"Yes, sir, I promise."

Then Graney put down Zoe's gun.

"Back away from the gun." Zoe said, "Hands behind your head." He did so as she side-stepped around him and picked her gun up.

Hotch and Elle arrived, "Where's the woman?"

"Closet." Zoe walked over to the closet, holstering her guns and opening the door as Hotch arrested Graney. Zoe crouched down to the mother and child. "It's okay to come out. You and your baby are safe."

The mother finally allowed herself to sob aloud, "Thank you. Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay." Zoe whispered.

———————————————————————————

Rose Kennedy once said, "Birds sing after a storm, why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?"

Zoe sanitized her gun after deciding against burning it to sterilize it of the rapist's touch. And she was now on the jet, continuing to read Villette by Charlotte Brontë as she had headphones on.

Gideon and Spencer were playing chess when Gideon said, "Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you."

"Oh, yeah?" Spencer muttered, somewhat distractedly.

"I forgot to give it to you at the party." Gideon said, handing Spencer a small, elongated box giftwrapped with blue paper and a red ribbon

"But you don't give birthday presents." Spencer chuckled. He undid the ribbon and tore the blue paper off and opened the box to see a pair of Redskin tickets.

"Wow. The Redskins." Spencer said.

"It's a VIP box." Gideon explained.

"Wow. Thank you so much." Spencer smiled.

"Ever been to a pro football game?" Gideon asked.

"No, I honestly didn't know this was football." Spencer chuckled.

"You're going to love it." Gideon said.

"We are. You're coming with me, right?" Spencer asked.

"No. There's someone else on the plane who is a huge Redskins fan."

"Who?"

Gideon looked past Spencer to the twenty-four-year-old blonde liaison.

"JJ?" Spencer blushed, he kept glancing past Gideon at Zoe, reading a classic.

"She's a huge Redskins fan." Gideon said.

Spencer frowned and looked at Zoe. He was not unaware of the effect that violent tomboy had on him. His heart raced when he saw her and he yearned to learn more about her but he also felt she was keeping things from him, but not just him.

Gideon was also not unaware of Spencer’s feelings for Zoe. Spencer was the least experienced profiler and while he was uncomfortable with emotions, he didn’t do a very good job at hiding the ones he had for Zoe.

Spencer looked at Gideon and said, softly, “JJ’s great and all but she’s just not Zoe.” This was the closest he had ever come to really acknowledging his feelings for Zoe.

Before he met Zoe, he had had feelings for JJ but… then he collided with Zoe and…

“Zoe’s had a hard life. She’s against letting people in easily. She likes to hide her emotions and prove she’s strong.”

“She is strong. She has ADHD and is still one of our best profilers.” Spencer said, almost defensively.

“I know that. But she’s from a culture that typically views mental health as a weakness. I know it’s not but because of that she likes to prove to everyone that she’s tough. She’s been through a lot and she’s not open to new relationships until she’s ready. She’s too guarded right now.”

Gideon phrased all of this as if it was something he had profiled from Zoe which was technically true but Gideon had also helped raise Zoe and knew this personally about her.

Spencer nodded. He had gotten this from her too, plus she was recently-ish out of an on and off five-year relationship.

"Wh-What should I say?" Spencer stammered. Gideon just looked at him. Spencer tucked the tickets into his lapel pocket, glancing back at JJ and started to get up when he moved a chess piece on the board and said, "Checkmate."

Gideon furrowed his brows as Spencer got up before smiling and chuckling as Spencer headed to JJ, still thinking about Zoe.

He awkwardly sat next to JJ across the aisle and cleared his throat

"Heard you're a fan of football..."

———————————————————————————

When Spencer got home, he remembered the gift-wrapped book in his go-bag and he opened it to find a nice edition of the 1967 classic, The Outsiders.

Spencer opened it to see something written in pen on the first page.

"My mom always said the message of this book is to always be true to yourself no matter what society tells you to do, no matter how touch it is, be who you are and not what people want you to be."

—————————————————————————-

Translations:

Come sta la ragazza più ribelle di tutto l'FBI? — Italian — How’s the most rebellious girl in all of the FBI?

È questo il saluto che ricevo dalla festeggiata? Non ti sento da otto mesi – Italian — Is that the greeting I get from the birthday girl? I haven't heard from you in eight months.

Non è il mio compleanno. — Italian — It’s not my birthday.

Potrebbe non essere il compleanno di Lauren ma è il compleanno di Emily. — Italian — It may not be Lauren's birthday but it is Emily's birthday.

*Personal note: I cut my finger with a potato peeler when I was making a deviled egg potato salad, like a deep cut but manageable, so while I have a bandage, my writing will be slower. I do have to the next few episodes written down (I'm writing LDSK now), but I want to slowly release them. So for the next few weeks, it'll be slower*

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dollofdeath · 2 years ago

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art summaries for this year >w<

template by @/Taxkha

(I / II / III is a comm i haven't posted anywhere / IV / V / VI / VII/ VIII / IX / X / XI / XII)

template by @/sabattons

more stuff under the read more, because there's quite a few stuff i actually liked this year!

january

this was a comm for kiz, but i think it came out pretty bomb. any hypsters who are into projmoon/projmoon fans into hypmic pspspsps --

actually i think this was my first ever piece this year, so it's interesting to see how much i've improved in over the past couple of months!

also i did some comms between feb and may to help raise some money for my relatives in the philippines, but i don't think i should post the ones i really like since the project isn't complete yet. but i think they came out bomb too, trust me -- (the volo art in my art summary is one of these comms lol)

april

i just wanted to post these two together since they're a set LOL thank u arb for giving me flowers that aren't roses to associate with hifugen....

also here are the unblurred versions of this set lol

may

this is just one of my fave hifugen headcanons KJFSDJKJKF

gentaro about hifumi: 🙄😒😑 gentaro about hifumi, when hifumi's fangirls are around: *draping himself over hifumi* excuse me ladies, do you have any business with My man?

KJFSJKDFSJKJH

august

i think i went rly hard in august. august was really a turning point for me this year too i think, so maybe my art reflected that haha, but anyhow. i really love these

everyone and their mom has done a religious jakurai art, but i wanted to do one too... the detail i rly like is the blood on his hands. because i like to headcanon that jakurai has vitiligo on his hands. i like how i incorporated that hc in this without making it too busy lol

THIS ONE. HELL YEAH. this is a redraw of an older art i made for thanatos' anniversary, and i thought the first one was cool but i was like "i think i have the skills to make this even better now" and I DID!!! idk, i'm glad i could capture the horror vibes more poignantly

september

this one is?? i don't think i made her a full reference sheet, i realized lol but i started streaming for friends because i have a bunch of game recs and no attention span to play them WKJGJKD so i decided streaming them so i could be held accountable for them would be the best way to do it LMFAO

anyways this is my pngtuber. they have no name, but she's a shopkeeper of a mysterious antique store. originally that doll on the bookshelf was gonna my pngtuber and i came up with a bunch of lore for her, but then i realized i had another oc design i really dig and was also simpler, so i revamped that for streaming FJKSDJKF but i would like to put that doll to use somehow or another. anyways if u can pinpoint all the references on the shopkeeper and their bookshelf and even her store's very existence, i love u --

catch me on twitch on sundays and mondays for mhyk and ace attorney respectively --

october

as much as possible, i try to do a vanistar anniversary art because noël is my baby boy... i'm so happy with how this year's came out!! ofc there's areas that could use work, but i like the colors and lighting c:

I'VE BEEN MEANING TO DO AN IBERIA AU FOR JAKUDO FOR SO LONG... probably as long as the koibito AU for hifugen, but i just haven't been able to put it into words... i'm glad i could at least do a bit of this year, and i hope one day i can manage the whole concept!! also this idea's been in my head for so long that arb managed to reveal demon designs for both jakurai and doppo, sparing me the effort of designing them myself FSJKJKKJH

this one is also a set, so i wanted to post them together hehe again this is based off a horror rpg concept me and gianna came up together back in high school that will probably never see the light of day lol this probably doesn't surprise anyone who knows us, but these characters are based on us FKJSKJH

wah... i think my artist wrapped really covers what i have to say! quantity-wise, i'm not too happy with how much i made... it can't really be helped considering how busy and tiresome it's been this year, and i really wish i could say i can do more next year, but it's likely i'll be posting less and less in the future TwT but as much as possible, i'd still like to share my work! i think this might be my time to start focusing on original stuff, but i still wanna do fandom related stuff because there's still a lot of ideas and concepts i wanna see realized!! also i just love my fandom blorbos a lot lol, so i'll find ways to do things for them >w<

quality-wise though, i think i'm pretty pleased! last year i got csp, so i was still figuring it out, but now i think i got a better hang of it! and that means my art looks more confident i think haha. of course, there's still a lot of room for improvement, but it's nice that i can look at my stuff and go "yeah i like this!" i'm excited to see where my artistic journey goes from here!!

but yeah, maybe it wasn't a plentiful year for me re: art, but i made some pretty nice stuff despite that! thank you all for the support, and here's to next year!!

#kai tries to art

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jodilin65 · 9 years ago

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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

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poorwhayfairingstranger · 2 years ago

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I'm in the mood for spooky love stories

Free Piano: Haunted - Part 1

When you drive by the piano on the way home from a job across town, you almost don’t stop. But your kid’s been wanting to learn how to play—a desire that’s stuck around for the last few months, a rarity—and this one’s free. It needs some TLC and while you’ve no experience with instruments, you’re good with your hands. On impulse, you pull over. Soon enough, you’re loading the free piano into the back of your truck. You barely give a passing thought to the “haunted” part of the sign.

Perhaps you should have.

Inspiration post: Haunted Free Piano Pic

Modern, enemies to friends to lovers, ghosts/spirits/specters, male monster x male reader, M/M, Part 1 of 8

Part One

You’re on your way home from a job across town when you see it.

You’re waiting at a busy all-way stop-sign intersection, counting your turn, when you see something big and wood on the side of the road. While people occasionally leave old or unwanted furniture out on the side of the road for either the garbage collectors, or anyone really, to take–it's not often.

The first time you ever actually stopped for one of these was with your grandpa, who was driving you home after baseball practice. He’d decided not to take the chair home that time—he said never take anything with upholstery because who knows what sort of bugs or vermin could be in it—but you two had stopped a few times after that.

You’d helped him take home an old record player cabinet, once. He’d even let you stick around while he fixed it up–the first time you’d ever done any work like that in your life. Even though all he had you do was hold things for him for the most part, it had earned his trust in your abilities, leading to a few other projects he’d drafted you for. It was the only project you’d gotten to work on with your gran, she was the one who knew how to restore the record player to functioning.

You still had it in fact, now that you had their house. Your parents hadn’t expected to inherit it, hadn’t really known what to do with it, but well, then came your divorce. It had made you feel like you belonged, that you weren’t just sneaking into their house–reminded you that you had contributed to the house with them. You’d still felt like a trespasser those first few weeks, there without Grandpa, but looking at the record player cabinet, and other spots you’d helped with at Grandpa’s side, helped ease that feeling.

You carried on with the habit, picking up an old TV stand for your college apartment with some buddies and a nightstand for your first apartment after that—easier to come by in the city you were living in at the time.

You pull yourself from your memories when your turn comes and on impulse, you go right instead of going straight. You’re just curious enough to want to take a closer look and it’s not like you have anywhere to be.

When you get close enough to pass by it, you’re surprised to see it's not furniture—it's a piano. Before you realize it, you’ve pulled into a driveway and turned around, coming up behind it on the correct side of the street. You don’t play, but your kid’s been wanting to learn. You’ve been considering getting an electronic keyboard, but they’ve never sounded right to your ear. Besides, while not as bad as a real one, any good instrument is expensive.

This one is free.

Well, you think as you hop down from your pickup to take a closer look, it doesn’t look like it's in great shape. The wood’s beat up and covered with what looks like water stains, discoloring and mildly warping the finish. But it's got a matching little bench, with a beat up, damaged design of what you think are supposed to be flowers or vines of some kind.

And then there’s the sign.

Ductaped together and to the piano itself is what looks like the side of a cardboard box with a piece of printer paper taped on top that in big, but neat print says “Priceless Antique”. Under that is another panel with very dark, large block letters merely saying “FREE”. Finally, under that is a third pane, looking even more hastily tacked on than the first two parts, stating “HAUNTED” in the same print as “FREE” but this word is underlined-twice. You appreciate the contradiction of “priceless” and “free”. The ‘haunted’ part causes you to raise an eyebrow: why would someone trying to get rid of something purposely label it haunted?

Restoration on this, even just the wood, will probably cost a fair amount—let alone any sort of specialist, mechanical restoration it’ll need.

But you’re a contractor by trade, which means you at least have access to more tools and supplies than most and you know the right people to ask for help—hell, isn’t there a youtube video for everything these days anyways? It's probably still cheaper than buying one.

You carefully flip up the lid to reveal the keys. They seem in better condition than the wood, only one or two looks damaged. You press a finger down on what you think is middle “C”. The note that rings out is clear and at the right volume, at least to your untrained ear. You don’t want to mess with it too much here on the street, but you hit two more keys at random, above and below, and they sound good enough—nothing obviously discordant or muted thuds from a hammer hitting wood instead of string.

You turn towards the house. No one’s come out to yell at you for messing with it, still… You shut the lid and reluctantly make your way over the house’s front door. It’s probably best to at least ring the bell and check with the current owners.

The bell rings louder than you expect and you’re already regretting deciding to voluntarily talk to strangers. You stand still, resisting the urge to fidget, until you start to think it's been long enough that you can just walk away when you hear footsteps from inside the house.

“Hi, sorry to bother you,” you say to the harried looking brunette a decade or so older than yourself who opens the door. “I just wanted to ask you about the piano?” You jerk your thumb over your shoulder in case she’s unaware of the free piano in her own yard. You’re glad when recognition blooms in her eyes before you can feel too silly for the gesture.

“Oh! Really? Great,” she says, sounding relieved.

“It’s still available, yeah?” You didn’t want for someone to have already claimed it, but just not gotten around to moving it. No way did you want someone to accuse you of theft of their free item. Not again.

However, the woman just nods. “Yeah, definitely. You can take it. We’re moving to another state and there’s just not enough room. Besides, none of us can play it—my mother-in-law used to, but the arthritis means that's not a good idea anymore.”

“What sort of condition is it in?” You don’t know how much that’ll change your mind, but it can’t hurt to ask. A quick question with the owner can save time down the road—like if a drawer is locked and the key lost or where it was purchased from or what they’ve used on it before. Any extra info is helpful with these types of things.

She frowns a little and you can’t tell if it's because you’re bothering to ask when it's literally free or because she’s trying to remember. “It got a bit damaged when the roof leaked a few years ago, but we made sure that the strings were alright—no rust or anything. I think it needs a tune and doesn’t look the prettiest, but,” she shrugs, “that’s why we’re just giving it away.”

“This the mover?” an older woman asks, her short white hair falling back from her face as she straightens from a bit of a stoop. She moves to stand in the doorway, the tennis balls on the four feet of her cane keeping her steady as she looks you over.

“No, but they might be taking that piano off our hands,” the woman replies, a bit of a warning in her tone.

The grandmother’s eyes sharpen as she stares at you. “Are they now?” She looks past you and spies it on the side of the road. Her eyes go a bit hard when they narrow back on the woman. “Did you just drop it on the side of the road?”

“Mike was careful when he put it out,” she retorts defensively. “And no matter what you think, no one’s gonna pay money for it. Even this guy’s asking questions, despite it being free—no offense.”

You smile, glad you have practice with acting like everything is fine while family members get passive-aggressive. “None taken.” You wish you hadn’t bothered to knock.

“Do you play?” the older woman asks while her daughter-in-law squints passed you at the sign taped to the piano, as if just noticing how long it is.

You shake your head. “No, but my kid’s been wanting to learn.”

She gives you a measuring look before nodding slowly. “It’s a good one for a beginner, given they’re polite.”

You frown, opening your mouth to ask what that means when the daughter-in-law cuts off whatever you were going to say with a muttered curse. Turning, she yells back into the house, “Emma! What did I say about messing with the sign on the piano!?”

“What?” a faint but defensive voice comes from deeper in the house. “Gotta warn the people!”

You can’t help but smirk at the joke. That sign makes a lot more sense if they made the teenager write it.

The daughter-in-law turns to point a finger at the now smirking grandmother. “This is your fault for encouraging her.” She turns back to you with a brittle smile, “Look, take or don’t. I’ve gotta finish packing this whole house and if you don’t want it, garbage will collect it Monday.” With that said, she walks off into the house.

You turn to the grandmother and raise an eyebrow. She raises one back. “You’re the one who stopped. I’ve had that piano for many years, my brother played it too. It’s been around since my parents’ got it. If you think you can spruce it up and have your child play it, please do. If not,” she shrugs, “I’m sure someone else will take it. A piano like that won’t end up in the trash.”

Before you can reply, there’s an indistinct shout from inside and she sighs. “I better go help. Be a dear and shut the door. Have a good day.”

“You too,” you reply as you obligingly close their door and head back to the piano.

You walk around it, and even take a look under it—mostly looking for anything like big holes or something—before you just sort of stare at it. Are you really doing this? What makes you think you can do fix it up? That it won’t still be too much money. That by the time you fix it, Kit won’t have moved on to some other interest. Even optimistically, you can’t finish this by his birthday—it’ll have to be for the winter holidays in a few months.

Will it fit in your shed? Will you be able to move it around without breaking it?

You shake your head, scowling as you try to banish all your second guessing. It’s free, it's right here. If you take it home and figure out after some research it’s too expensive or impossible for someone not a professional, you can throw it out yourself.

No harm in doing that much, right?

Decision made, you hop into your truck bed, moving things around until you’ve got enough space for it. It’ll be good for you to have a project again, you think. Now that the house is more or less fixed up, you’ve been finding the evenings on the days you didn’t have Kit too empty. You always feel better when you’ve got something to occupy your mind as well as your hands.

The space made, you frown as you try to get a feel for its weight. Just as you’re trying to decide the best way to move it yourself, a man comes jogging out of the house. “Hey!” he says as he raises a hand in greeting. “My mom says you’re gonna help take this off our hands—least I can do is chip in to get it into your truck.”

“Thanks,” you reply as you reassess how to do this with another person to help, “that’d be great.” What did the woman say her husband’s name was? Mike? Regardless, he’s taller than you and seems fit enough so with two people…

“You mind if we do the piano first? We can always squeeze the bench in wherever,” you say, glancing at the other man to see if he wants to take over the job of moving it or if he’s willing to go along with you. Frequently, when you go to work on a project, the man of the house wants to show he knows what he’s doing, that he’s only hiring someone like you because he doesn’t have the time to bother. Those types never seem to have a clue and are more trouble than they're worth.

Luckily, Mike just smiles broadly, “Sure, makes sense to me. I swear I’ve moved more furniture in the last month—even though we’re not taking much with us—than I have in my whole life before this.”

“I bet, moving’s never easy,” you reply generically, correctly guessing that Mike doesn’t need much from you to continue talking about the move, where they’re going, and why. All you need to do is grunt every once in while to show your listening and he fills the silence, which honestly is your preference—you’ve never been much of a talker.

You pick up your side, noting the wood feels noticeably cold, odd given it's been sitting out all day in the sun, but it feels solid enough that you focus on that instead. You’re more than willing to listen as Mike helps you drape a tarp over it, secure it down with bungee cords, hold things out of the way while you get everything all settled.

The only time he falters is when he gets a good look at the sign stuck to it. “What the…?” You see him mouth the word ‘haunted’ as he pales. Quickly, he reaches out and pulls the sign free, folding it up and then tossing it near the other trash they have out. “Kids,” he says vaguely when he sees you looking at him. “Always joking around.”

“Right,” you reply, not sure what else to say. You shrug and turn to check that it's not blocking too much of your rear mirror. Then you make sure everything else in the truck bed is secure before you gesture that Mike can jump down.

You follow, squinting in the sudden burst of wind that blows dust and dirt into your face. Once you blink your vision clear, you give the other man a nod. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem,” Mike replies, hands in his pockets, staring up at the piano. “Sad to see it go, but it’s not like anyone was playing it here. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” you say and after a moment of silence, head around to go. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Mike replies.

As you drive away, you see him by the trash bins, breaking down the cardboard sign surprisingly thoroughly before stuffing it under the lid.

Your eyes flick to your new, free piano. Possibly haunted? You roll your eyes as you focus back on the road. Nah, the only scary thing is how much effort (and money) it's gonna take to get this thing up and running again.

Well, you’ve got plenty of time for it at least.

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harley-sunday · 4 years ago

Text

Pool Boy

Summary: Are you really surprised when he jumps into a pool in October? No of course not.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language. As always.

Word count: 1k

AN: Did I watch the video of Chris doing that back flip more than once? You bet. For science, of course. Anyway, saw it again today and this popped up in my head. I’m sure it’s been done before, but here’s my take on what happened behind the scenes.

Chaotic Vibes Masterlist

You’re quietly humming along to a song playing on the radio while you try to arrange the flowers you’ve gotten at the Farmer’s Market earlier today into a vase but so far your attempt is unsuccessful. It looks like shit. You let out a frustrated sigh and take all the flowers out again, trying to remember what the lady told you about how to layer them to get the best arrangement. For a moment you glance outside, why, you’re not sure, but immediately a, “What the fuck?” escapes you.

Drying your hands on a tea towel that’s draped over your shoulder you stand on your tiptoes, hands now resting on the counter as you lean forward, nose almost pressed against the window. You squint, sure your eyes have played some sort of trick on you, but no. This is really happening in your backyard right now. Jesus Christ.

Grabbing the tea towel after you’ve pushed yourself back off you fling it onto the counter, muttering a quiet, “He had one fucking job,” under your breath as you march outside. It isn’t until you step off the deck onto the grass that you realize you’ve forgotten to put your shoes on and so now your socks are getting wet but it’s fine. For some reason you doubt you’ll leave this scene unscathed anyway.

His accomplice spots you first, letting out a quiet bark to alert his owner, but by then it’s already too late because there you are, standing just a few feet away from him, arms crossed in front of your chest for good matter, “Christopher Robert Evans-”

His eyes widen in shock when he sees you, a quiet, “Oh shit” whispered in Dodger’s direction.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He looks at the water behind him and shrugs, “I was just-”

“You were supposed to close the pool,” you counter, one eyebrow raised, daring him to contradict you while trying really hard not to get distracted by the way his swimming trunks are hanging from his hips but failing miserably. Fuck.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

“Uhu.” Shit. Still, you let your eyes slowly wander from his abs to his chest to that cheeky grin and that mischievous look in his eyes before you try again, “It’s fucking cold, what-”

“I have to get in anyway,” he tries, “have to clean it first, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, followed by a pointed nod to the table on your right, because of course you spotted his little set-up when you walked over here, “no need to record it though? Or what, you afraid you’re not gonna remember how to next year?”

He runs a hand through his hair and chuckles, sounding almost embarrassed, “Just wanted to do one last back flip.” He shrugs, “Maybe show you after-”

“Uhu,” you shake your head to let him know you’re not buying this bullshit story. Not saying anything else you just keep staring at him, knowing it’ll break him eventually.

“Fine,” he throws his hands in the air and looks at Dodger as if the dog will somehow help him out, but he’s just wagging his tail. Chris looks back at you, “I wanted to post it on Instagram. Just for shits and giggles, promise.”

You can’t help but laugh at his confession, remembering how, not even that long ago, he asked you to explain the app to him on a rainy Sunday afternoon. It took a while, but then he sort of got the hang of it. Sort of, yes, because then that happened and- You shake your head, trying not to think of it too much. Instead you unfold your arms and let your hands rest on your hips, a smile you’re trying your hardest to hide still forming around your lips, “Try to upload the right video this time, Evans.”

He hangs his head but you can tell he’s smiling too, and he stands up straight again then, nodding towards his phone, “At least hit ‘record’ for me, sweetheart?”

You do and then you watch him, shuffling backwards toward the edge, one last look over his shoulder to decide where he’s going to land before he lift up his arms, flexes his abs, and back flips into the pool.

Dodger runs around as though he wants to jump in and rescue Chris and so you call him over, “Come here, boy,” making him sit when he joins you.

Hitting the button needed on Chris’ phone you stop the recording and walk over to the pool where you look down at him with a mischievous smile, “You cold?”

“Not too bad,” he tells you, while a shiver runs through him. Liar. He holds out his hand then, “Help me out?”

“And have you pull me in?” You shake your head, although an idea starts to form, “Nah, you got in on your own, you can get out on your own just fine.”

He doesn’t respond and instead puts his hands on the edge starting to push himself up. Too focused on getting out he doesn’t see you pull your sweater over your head and it isn’t until he’s almost out that he looks up at you, his eyes growing wide when he sees you undo the button of your jeans.

“No fun in cleaning the pool all by yourself,” you offer with a wink before you push your jeans down and throw them aside. Closing your eyes you take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the cold you’re about to experience, and when you open them he’s there, on the other side of the pool, arms resting on the edge on either side of him, watching your every move. You take a step back, call yourself an idiot for good measure, and then run forward, jumping into the pool with your hands around your knees.

When you come up he’s right there, cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your lips before he pulls back and looks at you, grinning, “You are wild.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders you put your mouth close to his ear, grinding your hips for good measure, “It’s about to get a whole lot wilder, babe.”

#Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans Instagram #Chris Evans fanfiction #Harley Sunday x Chris Evans #Chaotic Vibes

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jessbakescakes · 4 years ago

Note

Oh oops I think I meant 98!

I love your writing :)

Thank you!

98. Take a deep breath from this post.

Post-series Josh/Donna for this one!

Josh arrives home just after six one Sunday evening with some take-out and a bottle of wine. The incident that necessitated the trip to the situation room and interrupted Josh and Donna’s afternoon plans ended up de-escalating fairly quickly; when he opens the door and sees Donna sitting cross-legged on the couch surrounded by books, magazines, and binders full of colored fabric squares, he knows that she didn’t expect him back so soon.

“Donna,” Josh starts, pushing the door shut with his elbow. “I thought we agreed --”

Before he can finish his thought, Donna interrupts him. “How much do you like Senator Benson?”

Josh puts the wine and food on the kitchen counter and walks into the living room. Donna has been dangerously close to a wedding planning meltdown for weeks, and Josh has been toying with the idea of taking a page from the Donna Moss playbook and drawing up some rules to keep her sane. He knows better than to answer, anticipating the can of worms that his response will open, but he does it anyway. “I mean, I’m not about to give the guy a kidney or anything, but we’re friendly enough.”

“Think he’d feel snubbed if he didn’t get an invite?” Donna asks, scribbling a note on a pad of paper in her lap before looking up at Josh, wide-eyed. “Wait, no. You need his vote on… well, I was gonna say 453, but you need his vote on most things. So if we invite Benson, that means we also have to invite Roberts and Winslow.”

Josh reaches for a book sitting to her left, but she grabs his hand before he can make contact.

“Don’t!” she practically yelps. “I need to mark the page first.”

He watches as she blindly feels around for a pad of post-it notes before peeling a few off the stack and sticking them on relevant pages. She’s muttering under her breath as she closes one book, but then re-opens it. She lifts the pad of paper and uncrosses her legs, letting out a sigh as she stands up, clearly looking for something she’s misplaced among the sea of wedding planning materials. “Look, Donna…”

“Have you seen my pen?” she asks, kneeling down on the ground and leaning over to peek under the coffee table. She looks under the table and around the couch, letting out a groan when she doesn’t locate it.

Josh kneels down on the floor with her, gently reaching for the pen twisted in her hair before taking her by the hands. “Honey? Take a deep breath.”

She does as he asks and gives him an embarrassed smile. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he laughs. “Quite spectacularly, I might add.”

Donna sighs. “It’s just… it’s getting to be more than I bargained for, I think.”

“Then don’t do it,” Josh insists.

She gives his hands a squeeze and looks down at her lap as though she’s giving the statement some thought before she answers. “You’re sweet. But we kind of have to. It’s just become such a... thing.”

“We don’t,” Josh insists. “Seriously. If this is what you want, then I’ll do it in a heartbeat. But if this isn’t what you want, then I don’t want it, either. Screw politics, I’d marry you at the courthouse tomorrow if you asked me to.”

Donna looks up at him, her blue eyes just a little watery now. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Josh insists.

He watches as the tension melts away from her shoulders, her jaw, her neck. She lets out a long exhale, then shrugs. “Well, I don’t know what I want, but I sure as hell don’t want… this,” she says, gesturing to the chaos around them.

Josh reaches for his phone and scrolls through a few contacts before selecting one and handing her the phone. “I think I can help with that. Well, I know someone who offered to help, at least.” Donna glances down to try to see who she’ll be speaking to, and Josh gently guides the phone to her ear before she can protest.

Donna looks at him quizzically, but she beams when she hears the voice on the other end of the phone. “Actually, it’s Donna, Mr. President. I’m calling from Josh’s phone.” She pauses, listening to what President Bartlet has to say. “I’m doing well, thank you, how are you?” Another pause. “You’re right, sir, maybe not so well, then.”

Josh moves to clean up the living room as he listens to her end of the conversation, smiling to himself as she gets what he can only assume is an in-depth recap of the chat he himself had with the former President just a few days prior.

“Really? Oh, thank you, sir, that… yes, sorry, that would be amazing! Are you sure? I wouldn’t… hi, Mrs. Bartlet.”

When the living room is cleared of all wedding planning materials a few minutes later, he opens the bottle of wine and pours them each a glass. He’s about to bring her a container of food when she walks into the kitchen, handing him his phone. He puts it on the counter and pulls her close for a hug. “Well?”

“The Bartlets offered us their farm,” Donna says, melting into him. “Mrs. Bartlet is going to do most of the detail work and vendor-wrangling, but we get the final say in everything. She and I are going to talk tomorrow after I get off of work to get some planning done.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You sound relieved.”

She looks up at him, her hands still clasped together behind his back. “I am. How much did you have to do in order to convince them to do that for us?”

“Almost nothing. I called for an unrelated reason, and he asked how it was going. I may have mentioned that you were a little overwhelmed, and that was all she wrote.”

Donna leans forward to give him a kiss. “President Bartlet made a pretty compelling case for doing it in October. With the leaves. It would make for some really nice wedding photos.”

“Yeah?”

“Is that too soon?”

“I seem to recall saying I’d marry you tomorrow,” Josh says. “You tell me when to show up and I’ll be there.”

She grins and reaches for a take-out container. “Don’t make any plans for the second weekend in October, then. Apparently, that’s the best leaf weekend, according to President Bartlet.”

“What is it with you two and leaves?” Josh teases.

“I’m sorry that you don’t have a running joke with the former leader of the free world, Josh,” Donna says with a shrug. “Maybe he just likes me better than you.”

“Sounds about right,” Josh says.

Donna takes a seat on the couch, rattling off names for a much more exclusive guest list between bites of food. Josh just watches her and smiles, thankful that she agreed to marry him in the first place.

#josh x donna #my fics #this one got long whoopsie

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bakugou-jpg · 5 years ago

Text

Cherry wine || Single dad!Tsukishima

So hello! This is something i’ve been planning on posting for awhile now. Idk if i like it or not and Tsukishima might be a bit OOC since i haven’t been in the Haikyuu fandom for very long but oh well. Tomorrow i’ll try and post the masterlist for it and how many chapters it’ll have!

-Prologue-

“I’m pregnant”

The silence that fell over the room became deafening, not a single sound except for the distant students outside of the dorm building chatting and laughing together. The fan in the corner of the room buzzed, rotating left and right and rustling some papers on the desk. The wind softly blew through his hair, making the heat more bearable than it was before but at that very moment his thoughts and gone completely blank.

The girl in front of him leaned onto the desk that was placed behind her and knitted her eyebrows together, not in anger but purely because she had been lost in thought. Her arms were crossed and she looked at the boy's feet, biting her bottom lip while doing so.

To say it was a shock, was simply too lightly. I mean, yes, the two of them hadn't exactly done much to prevent it that night so it had been quite the possibility but it had never crossed his mind. She was pregnant, something he did. The clumb of cells that was currently busy forming into a little human was because of him.

"Tsukishima"

Tsukishima's head snapped up and for a moment his eyes widened slightly. They held eye contact for a moment, neither of them breaking it. They were both, confused. Neither of them knowing what to do know and neither of them knowing what to say.

The boy adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. He folded his hands together and fiddled around with them, something he unconciously did when he was nervous. "..Oh"

Its all he could think of at that moment. Tsukishima, a man who always knew how to respond to whatever situation with either a logic answer or a cocky remark now felt silent. He was a rational person, but now it seemed that his brain short circuited.

The girl sighed, her eyes falling down to the ground once again. She moved one of her hands to rub over her face and then started biting her thumb nail. "I found out on Sunday. I..wanted to think about it myself a bit first. Hope you understand" She said, her voice trailing off.

Tsukishima nodded. "Of course."

Another silence.

There was one question he was dying to ask, of course, the most obvious one. He was a strong believer of the belief that it was her body and her choice and that he didn't have ANY saying in what she wanted to do, but he was still curious. At that moment he didn't even know which decision he wanted or preferred. Would it be bad if he asked? Or was it too soon?

"What do you- " "I-"

They both fell silent, not wanting to interrupt one another. Tsukishima excused himself and nodded towards her. "Sorry, go on".

The girl in front of her looked a little anxious and bit her lip before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to calm her nerves. She breathed out and locked eyes with the boy standing in front of her. "I've thought about it..and decided what choice i wanted to make and i hope you can support me in that."

Tsukishima quickly nodded and waved his hand. "Your body your choice. Whatever decision you make i will respect it so do not rely on my approval" He said, something which made her worried expression relax. It felt as if there had bee a weight lifted off of her shoulders.

She nodded, letting her eyes roam around the room for a second trying to figure out how to put it into words.

"For the longest time i've planned out what i wanted to do with my life, with my future. Go to college, study to become an archeologist and become succesful and travel around..A baby can't fit into that plan, not yet."

Understandable. Tsukishima understood what she meant, for he too had a plan of what he wanted to do in the future. Work in a museum, it was something that he loved the idea of ever since he was a kid. She wanted to become something bigger, so of course a baby would only get in the way.

She cleared her throat and fiddled her hands. "I do, however, want to give it a chance of being able to live. For him or her to find out what joys life can gift to you and how wonderful the world can be..So i'm going to give them up for adop-"

"I'll raise them"

What.

The girl's eyes widened and she looked at Tsukishima in shock.

Tsukishima pushed himself off of the wall and looked at her for a second before taking a step closer to her. "I'll take responsibility and raise them."

What was he saying?

The girl blinked in surprise, her mouth slightly agape from the sudden response one that she had not expected in a million years. Tsukishima's eyebrows were slightly knitted, something which showed he was dear serious over this. "..please"

Why was he saying this?

The girl snapped out of her daze and ran her fingers through her hair, her other hand cupping her still flat stomach. "I-..Wh- Tsukishima..are you serious?" She asked in disbelieve, still taken aback from the reaction. "With all due respect, Tsukishima, but i really hope you understand i am not planning on raising this baby alongside you nor am i planning to hop in at a later age. I just-"

"I don't care for that. You won't have to be involved in any way, i'll make my own money, buy my own two bedroom apartment, raise my own kid. I'll work it out, if you want i'll cover half of all your medical bills" Tsukishima said while leaning back again, looking at her with his usual stoic expression again. Yet, his golden brown eyes held a mixture of confusion and fear. But that was something she would never be able to catch onto.

God what the fuck was he saying

The girl sighed and shook her head a little, trying to wrap her head around what was happening. "I mean..Medical bills won't be a problem, my family's wealthy enough to be able to cover that without a problem..I just..I thought you were passionate about this college course and wanting to succeed? Its not some kind of puppy you raise, can leave at home for the day and to come back at the end of the day and feed it and sometimes throw a stick around, Tsuki-"

"Do i look like an idiot to you?" Tsukishima said with narrowed eyebrows, tapping his finger on his other arm impatiently. Surely, he fooled around with her, but Tsukishima couldn't stand the way she thought she was better and smarter than him.

The girl rolled her eyes and sighed. "You know what i mean" She snapped back. "Its gonna be a big responsibility, its gonna get in the way of you making it big out there."

Once again, a silence fell over the dorm.

Tsukishima's thoughts were screaming at him. Telling him this decision was an impulsive one, how he had to think it through first and asking him over and over again what he was thinking. He knitted his eyebrows together and stared at the ground, slowly nodding.

"I know what i'm doing"

No he did not

The girl nodded and shrugged, her eyes glancing to the clock hanging on his wall. She looked back at Tsukishima and hummed, pushing herself off of the desk. "Well, okay then. I've got class in ten minutes, we'll discuss the details later on. Take care" She said, pushing herself off of the desk. Her hand reached out for Tsukishima's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, something which made Tsukishima just the slightest bit uncomfortable.

He didn't even say anything, simply too caught up with the sea of a void that suddenly washed over him. It numbed all of his thoughts, all of his surroundings as the thumping of his own heartbeat echoed in his ear.

The click of his dorm room falling back into its lock flew past him, not even having noticed the girl had left. Tsukishima stood there for about 10 minutes until he was pulled back to the surface, something which made him fall back onto his bed. He put his elbows on his knees, his hands raking through his hair as he looked at his ground with slightly panicked eyes.

He let out a long sigh, his hand running over his face as he threw his head back and leaned it against the wall. It was already dark, the only people outside being the ones going to their night classes. It was cold, after all it was October and the weather hadn't been exactly the nicest out.

Tsukishima glanced out of his window, his eyes following the form of the girl who was just left his dorm and was now running outside to arrive at her class in time. His eyes were locked onto her until she had turned a corner, now out of sight.

What did he just agree to?

He let his eyes slowly slide down from his window to his bed, a place where his phone was resting. Without really thinking about it, he reached out for the phone, pressing a few buttons before bringing it up to his ear.

"..Tadashi? I..i fucked up"

Nine months felt a lot longer than it usually did. While a school year usually felt like it flew by rather quickly to Tsukishima, these past few months felt like as if there was a chain with a heavy ball chained to his ankles. Every minute, every second felt like it took forever.

As the trees lost their leaves, the snow covered the ground. As the snow melted away, the flowers started blooming again. As the flowers grew higher, the temperature did too. With every transmission, Tsukishima's feet grew heavier and heavier. It all lead up to that one moment. One moment that would change his life forever, a moment he'd remember till' the day he'd die.

As the seconds ticked by, they turned into minutes. As the small hand of the clock moved forward made a full circle, the hours started moving by. Slow, very slowly. Tsukishima lost sense of time, sitting in that chair waiting for someone to give him a sign and to inform him of the slightest bit of news. Anything.

His thoughts even stopped at some point. Surely he was panicking internally and the fact that his phone kept buzzing in his pocket, his family and Yamaguchi repeatedly asking him how it was going, didn't make it any better. Hell, the fact Yamaguchi managed to leak the information to his old teammates didn't soothen the buzz in his pockets at all. But he just stared at a wall.

The ticking of the clock, the water that dripped from the tap, the foot steps from the nurses, the distant screams of agony and the phone that rang every 15 minutes in the nurses office started to feel like a pattern. A never ending pattern that had repeated itself almost a million times already.

"Mr. Tsukishima?"

Fuck

Tsukishima's head snapped up and his eyes met the one of an older woman who was wearing a long blue cover up and a mask hanging next to the side of her head. She wore a smile on her face, a tired one, but a happy one. She had discarded the gloves she wore and Tsukishima noticed some light blood smears on the gown she was wearing.

"He's here"

In the past 9 months that had passed, Tsukishima had never thought that his feet could feel more heavier. But in that moment it felt as if Medusa herself had locked eyes with him and stared into his golden brown eyes, drinking in his beauty before stiffening his body and turning it into stone.

He didn't notice how his lanky long body had gotten up from the chair he had been sitting at for the past few hours and how he was now silently walking behind the doctor, following in her footsteps as she lead him to a room.

"The mother told me to inform you she didn't want to see your son and that she'd appreciate it if you stayed away for a little while" The nurse said while holding the door for him open.

His son

Tsukishima looked around the room, noticing how extremely empty and silent it was. The beds that were there were empty, waiting for a new patient to arrive. The blind were closed, but it let the slightest bit of light through cascading down onto to the little bin standing in the middle of it, surrounded by two other nurses that were busy with what was inside of it.

The two nurses looked up at him and smiled, one of them walking towards the exit of the room while the other reached out for the bundle of blankets inside of the little bed. She picked it up, stepping towards Tsukishima with a very kind small. One he didn't notice, for his eyes were only focused on the very small baby she held in her hands. "Meet your son" She said while holding the baby out for him, adjusting his hands just slightly so he'd make the baby feel comfortable.

He held out his hands, taking the bundle of blankets into his arms and immediately holding him close to his body. Tsukishima made sure to support his head, remembering all the things he read in a book his mother gifted him after having announced the news. He wouldn't dare to cause the baby any discomfort, it felt as if he was made out of the thinnest porcelain in the world.

"We'll give you a moment, we'll be next door if u need us" Tsukishima heard the older nurse say before the door shut behind her, leaving both him and his son alone in the room.

The baby slightly moved around in his blanket, one of his tiny arms poking through and stretching out towards Tsukishima's face before returning back into the comfort of his warm cocoon. A small yawn left the baby's mouth, a sight that made Tsukishima's eyes soften.

"Someone's pretty tired, huh? Nine months of sleep ain't enough for you, buddy?" He whispered, peering into the little eyes that were slowly opening up revealing a very familar pair of golden brown ones although his appeared to be just a bit more darker. It also didn't Tsukishima long before he noticed the dark blonde hairs poking out of his hat, ones that almost matched his own but just being a shade darker than his own.

He grinned and stroked the baby's cheek, taking in every detail of his face. "Aren't you just a sight for sore eyes, like i'm looking into a mirror." Tsukishima said with a short snicker.

In that very moment, Tsukishima felt his feet get lighter. The heavy chain on his feet he carried around for months that got heavier and heavier broke, just by the single stare the boy had on him. He didn't care anymore, about what he was gonna do in the future. He didn't care about if he'd still be able to finish college or if he was gonna be able to pull through.

Every thing he did, was gonna be for him. Every decision he made, was gonna be with him in the back of his mind. Every thing decent nice thing he did, he did hoping he could be somewhat proud of his old man.

And so, from 7 years from that moment, on Tsukishima was going to have a succesful career. One he had achieved after graduating from college, something he couldn't of have done without the motivation he had after his son was born and he was going to make sure his son was always first with whatever he did.

"Welcome to the world, Kaoru"

#haikyuu!!#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #tsukishima x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #tsukishima x you

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the-bejeesus · 4 years ago

Text

To Those Who Say “I’m not gonna catch up on One Piece until it’s finished. Why would I watch/read 1000+ episodes/chapters when I don’t even get to know how the story ends?”

Now for the past few years, when I came across somebody who said this, my rebute would be something like “Well the series is great already. It doesn’t really matter if I don’t know how it ends, because the journey itself is enjoyable.” or “Man if that’s your excuse, who you gonna explain why you read/watch stuff like Berserk, Hunter X Hunter, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Hero Academia? Newsflash, they aren’t done yet.” But it came across my mind that I can now apply a completely different approach:

“If you start watching/reading at this pace right now, it will be over by the time you catch up.”

If you’re a fan of the series, you’ll know that for awhile now Oda has been saying that he plans to end the series in just 5-4 years. Now he’s made lots of claims in the past that turned out to be ridiculous. However, many One Piece researchers have compiled his claims and found out that they only get more accurate as time goes on, with the most ridiculous claims being found to be myths. And with the most recent claims of ending the series in less than 5 years, even his editors who are usually skeptical have started to trust that he can do this. After all, he has officially set there to be only one more saga (which isn’t necessarily one arc, but it’s either going to be 1-2 major arcs or an anthology of 5-6 shorter arcs). And now that we can trust this claim, we can essentially extrapolate how many chapters/episodes are left and what pace we have to binge to catch up at just the right time.

If you plan to read the manga (black and white):

The manga in black in white is a perfectly fine way to enjoy One Piece. It’s what Oda draws, it’s how he intends it to be viewed, and best of all, it will be the first version of publication to finish.

Out of the 1223 weeks since the first chapter published in July 19, 1997, 1000 chapters have published, meaning on average he publishes 42 chapters per year, or in other words, there are only 10 hiatuses per year (including holidays where WSJ does not publish). Now if I wanted to be more accurate, I’d only look at the chapters published this year, to exclude outliers like how he had no hiatuses for the first 200 chapters, or how he had a 4-week hiatus during the timeskip, but 2020 has been a bit crazy, so we’re not doing that for this or any of the others.

Going off of this, the final chapter would be chapter 1212 in December 28, 2025 (yes, the 28th would be a Sunday again.) So here’s how you’d calculate the pace in which you need to read One Piece, and really this is how we’ll calculate it for every version)

Now I know math is boring, but the reason I’m showing this to you is because the amount of weeks until One Piece ends will vary based on when you start this binge. Chances are you aren’t going to start the day you see this post, and there’s an even greater chance you won’t see this post the day it’s posted. For every example I’m going to assume you started binging on December 28, 2020. Now let’s try to use it for this example.

And there’s your answer, just read 4-5 chapters per week. By the end, One Piece should be nearly over or have very recently ended. To put that into a different perspective, you could purchase and read just two volumes per month and you’ll be at prime pace. Or you could read one chapter every day, but only on weekdays. If you want to, you can see this calculation in action in graph form.

While this is a very rudimentary graph, it’s a basic visualization of what we’re calculating here. We’re calculating what speed we need to binge to catch up at exactly the right moment. I say exact, but ultimately no one can predict how many chapters there will be exactly, nor how many hiatuses Oda will go on during it. It will be important, as you’re nearing the end, to find a spoiler-free way to keep up on how close One Piece is to ending. To know whether you ought to speed up or slow down.

If you plan to watch the anime (subtitled):

For years now people have hated on the anime “terrible animation!” “terrible pacing” but at the end of the day, it’s the more popular version. Or the more viewed version I should say. And personally, I think that once you acknowledge its problems and learn how to deal with them, it’s a perfectly fine experience. There’s enough good voice acting and enough good storytelling that you’re easily able to ignore the problems. Plus, the animation has substantially improved since Wano.

Now for this we’re going to have to change a lot of variables to get this right. We’re going to have to adjust when publication started, and recalculate when One Piece will end by looking at how slowly the anime adapts the manga, and how behind it is. The anime aired on October 20, 1999, and has aired 956 episodes since then. This means on average they air 44.9 episodes per year, meaning there is pretty much only 7 breaks the entire year. With these 956 episodes, they have adapted 955 chapters, making the pace almost exactly one chapter per episode. However this is really inaccurate, considering all the better-paced arcs earlier on in the story. Looking solely at episodes 2012 and onwards, the anime adapts at a pace of 0.65 chapters/episode.

Knowing that there are roughly 212 chapters left, and Toei adapts at 0.65 chapters per episode, we can assume that there are going to be roughly 324 episodes left. That sounds like too many, but keep in mind that there will be several, several instances where the manga will be on hiatus whereas the anime will keep on airing. Knowing there are approximately 324 episodes left, and that the anime only takes about 7 breaks a year, we can assume that it will take 7 years, or 374.49 weeks before the anime will end. So now we have the information we need to do the math again.

x = 1280/374.49

x = 3.417 episodes/week.

It may seem like a more relaxed binge, since you get a whole 2 extra years to binge, and you only have to do 3-4 episodes per week, compared to the 4-5 chapters. But keep in mind that these episodes are 24 minutes each. Still not at all bad, but you will be spending more time on it overall.

If you plan to watch One Pace:

One Pace is a fan project that edits the anime so that filler and padding is cut, other edits will be made to make the anime more manga-accurate, such as reorganizing scenes, or adding title cards where absent. Originally only used by a niche number of One Piece fans, One Pace has grown in popularity, and has tried to improve its quality to accommodate more fans, such as making their episodes Dual Audio (meaning you can switch between the dub and original Japanese audio tracks), and including Spanish subtitles.

You’d think we’d have to adjust for when One Pace began, how slowly One Pace catches up, and the works, but there’s not much to calculate. Fortunately for us, no matter how far behind One Pace is on editing the current arc, they always like to wrap things up just a few weeks within when an arc ended, if not the very same week. So really all we have to calculate is how many One Pace episodes there will be by the end of all this, so that we know how many you’ll need to watch per week.

Looking solely at what they’ve covered so far, One Pace has taken 573 episodes and condensed it down to 259 episodes. That’s a pace of 2.21 anime episodes/ paced episode. Earlier we calculated that there would be 324 episodes of the anime left, making for 1280 episodes total. This would mean that there would be around 578 One Pace episodes by the end. And One Pace would probably wrap up in, let’s say 376 weeks, because as I said, they’ll probably finish editing the final arc a week or two after the last episode airs.

x = 578/376

x = 1.53 episodes per week

Now that’s a relaxed pace. 1-2 episodes per week? That’s so slow, I’m not even sure if I’ll remember what I watched last week next time I watch some episodes. The only problem is some of the pre-timeskip still haven’t been edited. They’ll probably be done by the time they finish the final arc, but that’s not gonna work out fast enough. You’ll hit your first roadblock about 7 weeks in when you need to watch the Baratie arc and it’s not done. And don’t even get me started on how many arcs aren’t done in dub or Spanish sub yet. Hopefully you could just switch to the anime or manga when you hit these arcs, readjusting how many episodes/chapters you need to watch/read when you do. But that’s a bit of an excessive amount of math for something that’s supposed to be fun. So yeah, if you’re still convinced you shouldn’t get into One Piece until it’s ended, maybe this is the option for you.

If you plan to read the manga (Colored):

Since 2012, Shueisha has made a colorization of One Piece. It’s not a fan coloring, it’s as official as it gets. Many consider the color schemes portrayed in this version as the most canon, as the majority are pulled straight from whatever colored illustrations of Oda’s they can find. And quite frankly it makes the manga at least 10 times more beautiful. It’s especially great if you have trouble interpreting dense, small black and white panels.

This one is a doozy. You’d think all I gotta do is calculate how far behind the colored manga usually and just adjust from there, right? Wrong. Because how far behind the colored manga is, or how frequently they release volumes in full color, is one of the most inconsistent things I have ever seen. You wanna see what I’m talking about? This is how they’ve chosen to release each volume since 2012:

Volume 1-12: July 15, 2012

Volume 13-23: September 28, 2012

Volume 24-63: December 4, 2012

Volume 64-65: April 4, 2013

Volume 66-68: December 20, 2013

Volume 69-70: August 25, 2014

Volume 71-72: September 16, 2015

Volume 73-75: October 4, 2016

Volume 76: December 2, 2016

Volume 77: March 3, 2017

Volume 78: July 2, 2017

Volume 79: September 4, 2017

Volume 80: December 4, 2017

Volume 81-82: March 3, 2018

Volume 83: October 4, 2018

Volume 84-86: August 2, 2019

Volume 87-92: September 16, 2020

How I am supposed to find out how long it will take for Shueisha to colorize the final volume of One Piece is beyond me. I guess the first step would be to look at how far behind the manga each release was on average, but I’m going to ignore all the ones before 2013, because those were clearly just Shueisha catching up really fast cause they just started and didn’t want to be dozens of volumes behind forever. So of the 14 publications between 2013 and now, on average the last chapter of the last volume they colored was 97.78 weeks after that chapter had published in Weekly Shonen Jump. This means that if the final chapter of One Piece is chapter 1212 on December 28, 2025, then you can expect the final colored volume to publish November 14, 2027.

x = 1212/359

x = 3.37 chapters/week

So if you prefer the manga but don’t want to read 5 chapters every week for 5 years, this might be a better option for ya. But yea, I have no doubt my prediction is at least a little off for this one.

If you plan to watch the anime (dubbed):

Unlike the 4KidsTV and Odex dubs of One Piece, the FUNimation dub is a perfect way to enjoy One Piece. The DVDs come with enjoyable commentary and a marathon mode, great for binging.

FUNimation’s releases of the dub are inconsistent, although not nearly as erratic as the colored manga release. However, there was recently a 2-year hiatus we only just got out of. Since Episode 1′s dub in May 27, 2008, the dub has gotten as far as Episode 614. But that’s only looking at the DVD releases. If you’re willing to stream on FUNimationnow, the dub is as far as 641, and if you’re willing to digitally purchase it from an e-shop such as the Microsoft store, it goes all the way to Episode 654. With that being said, that would mean that on average, FUNimation dubs 1.004 episodes per week. Although if we go back to before the two-year hiatus so as to exclude it from the average, it’s actually 1.10 episodes per week. Not a huge difference, actually. And then if we look solely after the two-year hiatus, it’s actually 2.25 episodes per week, which is insanely faster. It’s hard to tell what the future of the dub will be. I can’t assume they’ll go this fast forever, so I’m just going to take the average of all 3 and say it’s 1.45 episodes per week. Don’t know if that’s the best mathematical approach, but the number seems about right.

So knowing that the dub is at Episode 654 and looking at our previous guesstimation that the anime will be 1280 episodes long, we can predict that it will take 431 weeks before the dub catches up and ends. That would be in 2029! Sounds quick at first until you notice it’s 4 years behind!

x = 1280/431

x = 2.96 episodes per week

Looks like it’s almost exactly 3 episodes per week. Not as much less of a workload as I expected, compared to catching up to the sub. You know, I figured those 4 extra years would make you binge a lot slower.

Final Thoughts:

There’s a lot of my math that was estimation, approximations, extrapolations. Feel free to correct me or fact check me, especially if you plan on using this. I figured this would be a fun thought excercise. There’s also a lot of smaller variables I simply didn’t want to take into account because of how long this is already. For example, reading the black and white manga. The calculation can vary slightly depending on if you read it the day it’s published (which I assume would have to be a fanscan unless you can read Japanese), reading the weekly publication legally on Viz.com, waiting for the physical volume release. The dub can also vary depending on whether you buy from Microsoft, wait for the FUNimationnow release, wait for the DVDs, or wait for the Collection sets. So feel free to take this into account.

#One Piece #OP #ワンピース #Wan Pīsu #anime #manga #FUNimation #dub #One Pace

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wherevermyway · 4 years ago

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beside you in time // seungbin // horror // 16+

❄ part of yuki’s favourites! ❄

⚠ POTENTIAL TW: READ WITH CAUTION! ⚠ pairing: seo changbin x kim seungmin rating: mature! 16+ warnings/tags: major character death, mental instability, paranoia, insomnia, suicide, character study. word count: 2,148 also on AO3

originally posted: 17 february 2021

"Come back to me."

Things always got bad from hours twenty-four to thirty-six. From thirty-six to forty-eight, however, was more akin to running a chainsaw through an industrial-sized tin of diced tomatoes.

There was always one person that kept Changbin grounded, however.

"Come back to me, Changbin."

And that person was Seungmin. Seungmin was always there to guide him back to some semblance of normalcy.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

“Come back to me.

I just want you to come back to me. Not this shell of you, but the whole you.

The entirety of you. The old you.

Come back, Cha—”

31 October 2005 Monday

—

It was Monday. Monday at midnight. Changbin stared at the bright red of his alarm clock, staring the 00:00 directly in between the empty spaces of the square zeroes.

It was the staring contest he had every night.

Right on schedule, he lifted himself out of bed, sliding his feet against the cold wood of his bedroom floor, careful to not make any noise so that he didn’t disturb his boyfriend. Quietly, he slipped his way around the floor, out of the open doorway and into the kitchen. He flipped the switch on the wall, the halogen lamp flickering four times exactly before its sickeningly bluish rays illuminated the off-white kitchen walls and the grey cabinets.

Changbin took a step forward: the sink on his left-hand side, the stove on his right-hand side. He stared at the white wall in front of him, his expression empty as he stared at twenty-nine red Xs marked through each day prior. His left hand reached out to the drawer, not breaking his gaze from the calendar as he rummaged through until he recognized the way the red permanent marker felt in his hand. He continued to eye Sunday, as if it was prey, and his permanent marker was the hunter.

He licked his lip, biting it as he removed the cap from the marker, taking a few steps forward until he was face-to-face with his archnemesis: the constant reminder that time was limited, that he couldn’t even fucking remember what day it was without the stupid fucking calendar staring at him in the face.

Two diagonal lines from end-to-end of the damned square.

The 30th of October could join the twenty-nine days prior in hell.

Changbin paced around the living room, his footprints brushing over the rug in the middle of the room, leaving worn treads in its fabric. This was his routine as he waited for Seungmin to come home. He wasn’t able to focus on anything for too long before—

Time, time, time.

“Would you fucking shut up? I just told you to leave me alone.”

Before the voices came back.

Changbin knew he sounded unstable as he shouted to himself in the empty living room. He couldn’t stop it, though. The words always left his lips before he could stop himself from saying them.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Things always got bad from hours twenty-four to thirty-six. From thirty-six to forty-eight, however, was more akin to running a chainsaw through an industrial-sized tin of diced tomatoes.

“Just stop, just fucking stop.”

He knew eyes were watching him, he could feel the stares boring into the back of his skull, eyes running all over him. Changbin gripped at the tops of his shoulders, repeating to himself that he wouldn’t turn around — he couldn’t turn around.

“Go away,” he whispered into the crooks of his elbows as he embraced himself, “go away, just go away.”

Why are you here? Fade away, Changbin.

The creaking of the floorboards startled him, unsure if it was his mind lying to himself, creating something that wasn’t there.

Tick—

“Changbin.”

But there was someone there. The energy that came from the words was different, warmer than the way the other voices that circled his mind. The voices floating in his head were never so—

“Come back to me, Changbin.”

There he was, right in front of his face. Seungmin was tangible, unlike the hallucinations in his head. Changbin hadn’t slept in days, yet Seungmin somehow looked far more fatigued than him.

“I’m so sorry, Seungmin, I just—”

“I know,” Seungmin sighed, gently dancing his fingertips against Changbin’s clammy skin. He was gentle as he pulled the shaking man into his arms, and even gentler as they sank to the ground together. “We need to get you back on your medication. Get you back to who you used to be before everything got bad again.”

“No,” Changbin shook his head against the younger man’s chest, “you know what happened the last time they put me on those fucking pills. I can’t lose myself again.”

Seungmin gently stroked the top of Changbin’s head, shushing him and rubbing small circles in between his shoulder blades. “Okay, okay,” he relented, his voice quiet and calm. “We can talk about it more later. Does that sound okay?”

Changbin nodded once, grabbing at Seungmin’s woollen sweater, hiding his face away from the world. “I just don’t want you to leave me because I’m losing it.”

A quiet chuckle came from Seungmin before he pressed a quick kiss to the top of Changbin’s head. “I’m never gonna leave you, baby. I love you. I’ll be here with you until the end of time.”

“You promise?”

“Always.”

14 November 2005 Monday

—

Until the end of time. Always.

Seungmin’s voice was soft as it echoed in Changbin’s head, pulling him from the darkness.

It was Monday. Monday at… nine in the morning?

Time, time, time.

Changbin rubbed his eyes, starting to hyperventilate as he stared at the clock. He turned to the side of his bed, expecting to see Seungmin there, but there was nothing but wrinkled sheets in his place.

“Work,” he muttered to himself. Seungmin had to be at work. It was Monday, which meant that Seungmin was back in the clinic. His breathing calmed down as he mentally prepared himself for another day. He would get through the next few hours until Seungmin got home.

Changbin haphazardly made his way to his feet, his footsteps padding against the cold wooden floor. His footsteps were so loud, echoing against the empty walls of his apartment. He flipped the light switch at the entrance of the kitchen, letting the halogen lamp flicker four times before it steadied itself.

No.

Changbin’s eyes went wide as he stared at the calendar, red Xs missing from the days prior. He stared over the entire month of November before he ripped the calendar off of the wall, rapidly flipping through every page of every month, trying to check for the marks through his days.

Nothing.

From January to November, there were no marks, not a single mark through any of the days he had lived through.

Tick, tock.

Changbin dropped the calendar, letting it collide against the floor as he ran to the landline they kept in the living room. Seungmin would reassure him that, yes, the marks were on each day, that this was just his brain playing tricks on him yet again.

His fingers trembled as he entered seven digits into the phone, the number of Seungmin’s clinic the only thing he could keep memorised after all of these years. Changbin called him at least twice a day whenever Seungmin was at work, often many times more.

The number you have dialed is no longer in service.

“What?”

Changbin shook his head, staring down at the phone as a dial tone filled the air. It was possible he had made a mistake, sure, fumbled with the wrong numbers since his hands were shaking, but—

The number you have dialed is no longer in service.

It had to be a lie.

The number you have dialed is no longer in existence.

The tick you have tocked is—

He threw the phone at the wall, the cheap plastic shattering as it collided against the drywall. Changbin screamed at the top of his lungs, tears falling from his eyes as he tugged desperately at his hair.

Why wasn’t Seungmin’s line working?

He needed Seungmin, but he couldn’t—

“I love you, Seungmin,” his own voice echoed in his ears, the voice trembling and shaking like a small child.

“Seungmin, come back to me.” Changbin blinked once and saw a wrecked car in front of him, blood splattered against broken glass.

He stared at the accident, the car totalled up against a brick wall, another severely damaged car in the distance. The car he was staring at was familiar, the shouting of the voice haunting him as he approached. With his breath hitched in his throat, he stepped closer and closer to the front of the car, each step allowing him to make more and more sense of the wreckage behind the spiderwebbed windshield.

“Come back to me,” the voice pleaded again.

Changbin’s voice. Changbin’s very broken, raw voice.

“Seungmin, please, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see—”

Blood. There was so much blood all over the inside of the car, all over Changbin and all over Seungmin. He stepped backwards, nearly colliding against the asphalt as he recoiled in terror, the memories of that day flooding his head.

Can’t go through this again. Can’t.

Changbin looked down to his hands as he shook in fear, his hands caked in rapidly-drying blood that was turning from crimson to brown. The scent of copper lingered in his nostrils as he shook his head, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Again.

Come back to me, Seungmin.

Let me go, Seung—

Changbin blinked his eyes rapidly until he was back in his apartment, warm arms wrapped around his torso. He stared at the broken plastic littering the floor and simply felt nothing, like the switch to his emotions in his brain had been turned off.

“Come back to me.” Seungmin’s voice was so gentle, so soft in his ear. “It’s time for you to wake up and come back to me, Changbin.”

The switch was ripped off of the wall, there were no emotions to feel anymore.

“Let me go, Seungmin,” he weakly whispered, reaching up to the arms that weren’t there, yet still felt so real.

“Come back to me,” the voice was louder as Changbin lifted himself up off of the floor, haunted by the way that the ghost of Seungmin’s touch lingered on his skin.

He slid his feet against the bare wood floor, unable to register that the smooth texture was cold, only recalling it in memory. Like an empty shell of a human, he drifted into the kitchen, where Seungmin stood in front of the wall, calendar in his hands.

“It’s Monday,” he whispered, pointing at the date. “The thirteenth of November. You wondered why there were no marks, right?”

“Leave me alone, Seungmin,” Changbin’s voice was weak, his voice expressionless as he stared forward.

“It’s time to wake up, Changbin. It’s not 2005.”

Can’t go through this again.

“You know it’s not 2005. You’ve been wading through this year like it didn’t exist.”

Life and death, teetering on the edge of it for a year straight. It was ironic, really, that Changbin only slept on the anniversary of the day that he killed Seungmin.

It was an accident.

“It was an accident. You should have been on your medication again.” Seungmin repeated, as if he could hear Changbin’s thoughts. “But every action has a reaction. You know this. You cost me my fucking life.”

Changbin snatched the calendar from Seungmin’s grasp, ripping each page from the calendar and letting them scatter about the floor. Alone he stood, like some fucked up sculpture in the midst of chaos — the chaos of three hundred and sixty fucking five days staring right back up at him, laughing and taunting and driving him insane.

“Come back to me,” Seungmin took a step forward, grabbing the sides of Changbin’s face and pulling him in to kiss his forehead. “Wake up and come back to me, Cha—”

Changbin reached his right arm out, until his hand wrapped around the handle of his chef’s knife, pulling it from the block.

“Make it all stop,” Seungmin taunted. “Come back to me, be with me forever in time, right where you belong, and it’ll stop.”

A tear rolled down Changbin’s empty face as he stared forward, at the empty wall. Seungmin wasn’t there, but it felt like he was there. “I’m so sorry, Seungmin. I loved you so much, I loved you and I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

A cold hand wrapped around Changbin’s hand, helping him bring the knife to his own throat. “I know you are,” his voice was soft, soothing. “And I still love you. So, make it stop. Your time is running out.”

Time, time, time.

“Tick, tock, Changbin. Make up your mind.”

Sweat started to bead in Changbin’s palm as he whispered endless apologies. Tears streamed down his face, his eyes clamped tightly shut as he quickly undid the flesh of his throat with the knife in his hand.

Come back to me.

There was a thud.

Come back to me, Changbin.

The white wall of the kitchen was stained in splatters.

Come back—

The days of the calendar were finally marked in red.

“Changbin—”

Keys fell to the floor.

#beside you in time #skz fics #horror #skz horror #seungbin #seo changbin x kim seungmin #kim seungmin x seo changbin #changbin x seungmin #seungmin x changbin #wherevermyway

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chimtaera · 5 years ago

Text

imagine model namjoon.

ok let’s not kid ourselves

boy’s already a model

he’s got the body.

got the looks.

what can i say, he’s no super model (too clumsy), but he get’s around with the more diverse castings yanno

probably got started on instagram,

with his #kimdaily outfits

which are sometimes just chill, pretty, sporty, casual, cool

and other times completely wacky and just ??? how did you even think to wear those ??? at the same time?? together ???

he always looks good tho

but some looks will give you whiplash. ur warned.

but that’s part of his appeal tbh

hhhh probably gains a lot of popularity when one of those more ‘out there’ outfits circulates on twitter or reddit and people are like “hOW does he make that work??? why does it look good??? is he just that hot??”

the answer is yes.

from there he builds a solid following.

for his great looks, great fashion sense, and his 4am instagram stories that are just a black pic with like a three paragraph text about how rain might feel if it had feelings.

also, solid music recommendations omg

you probably make ur own spotify playlist with just his recommendations.

ok ok so you best bELIEVE when this boy finally gets cast for a show he’s gonna fall on his ass and go viral

claim to fame baby

probably becomes a meme and rolls with it tbh

like he’ll share the memes in his story, so as not to ruin the ・ﾟ:*aesthetic*:・ﾟand react to them and shit

but then also get on live and talk at length about how faceplanting on the catwalk impacts your self-esteem, how he’s habit he could benefit positively from such an embarrassing moment, and how there’s a lesson for everyone here, and that he hopes all our embarrassing moments may in some way benefit us one day.

he’s such a sweetheart im-

so you might be a stylist?

a hair stylist?

makeup artist?

fellow model?

whatever you’re comfortable with.

you definitely see him on instagram first tho

you came for the memes but are super impressed with his profile and end up staying for the music.

...... and him.

he’s hot, come on.

also 90% of networking is done on instagram these days let us be real.

okay so oNE DAY, or like late evening, who cares

he post a music recommendation and you’re like !!!!!!!!

it’s that low key indie band with like only one EP out that you found on some obscure spotify playlist and you’ve been jamming to since october

and apparently namjoon has too because they’ve released a new single and you didn’t even know ????

and you’re so excited your fingers slip and oopsie you’ve sent a short but rambling message explaining exactly that into his DM’s

instant regret.

then the anxiety bubbles up in you.

and then you calm yourself and convince yourself that he gets a LOT of messages he probably won’t even see yours, so it’s fine it’s fine it’s-

next morning you have a reply

a new follow

and a mcfUCKING LIKE ON A PICTURE OF YOU FROM TWO WEEKS AGO

yikes, you didn’t even have time to give your feed a spring cleaning

you just like his short “ikr!!!!”, too mortified to reply.

alas, the regrets!

but also

the butterflies.

then you see him at an event one time.

it’s fashion week, you’re hecking busy and about to leave because it’s like midnight and you’ve got places to be tomorrow

but it’s always so strange to see people from insta irl like ??? all those dimensions??? you really be lookign like that ??? damn.

once you’ve stared long enough to be certain that’s actually what he looks like (so handome!!! so tall!!!! wtf!!!! who allowed this??) you turn to leave just as he glances up and cetches your eye for like the tiniest fraction of a second

and you hightail it outta there and hope to heaven he doesn’t know you were staring.

but he likes your pic from the party the next morning and you almost choke on your coffee and the lump in your throat stays there all day

and you’re like, am i?? catching feelings ??? for the catwalk faceplant guy??? you’ve never even talked to the man smh

he’s fucking hot tho.

so, fashion week ends and with it comes another party

you can finally relax, celebrate, wind down from the long week.

yA THOUGHT lmao

you’re talking to some designer about their next project and they’re going on about this instagram dude who’s already on board when they start waving someone over like “hey hey, there he is, y/n have you met kim namjoon yet?”

you turn around you’re like !!!!! fuck. he’s so much taller up close.

“hey, no, yeah, no, but i’ve seen you on, uh, on instagram. i think.” smooth, y/n.

after introductions, the designer gets pulled along into some other conversation and you and namjoon are kinda awkward for a minute.

you just sip your drink like ‘fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck aaaaaaa’

but then he asks you easy questions about what you do and what you’ve been working on this week and it’s the same thing you’ve been talking about with everyone you’ve met this week so it goes pretty smoothly

he makes it easy for you, like he’s very attentive, nods along enthusiastically asking follow-up questions and seems genuinely interested in your work it’s so nice! he’s so nice!

and you ask him the same things you’ve asked everyone else this week like you haven’t seen everything on his instagram already.

actually you’ve missed a few things since you’ve been so busy and your interest is genuine, before you know it the two of you are at a table and getting along like a house on fire, showing each other pics from the week.

he asks you send him a pic from one of the shows he didn’t get to see and when he do he’s sees your old messages and is like ?? oh !!

i mean, he totally knew it was you, but he had forgotten the part about that obscure indie band and the new single, so he shows you!

you’ve been following them even closer since then so you know they’re playing a gig in like two weeks and you tell him.

turns out he’s missed this info because of fashion week and he’s super excited!! you guys have to go together!!!¨

“i mean, we don’t have to- it’s just, i don’t know anyone else who listens to them, i could probably go alone, but, you know, it would be cool-”

and of course you’ll go with him, so you two exchange numbers and end up texting the next two weeks.

at first you’re just making tentative plans to meet and go to to the gig, but then there’s a gallery opening the same day, and you know this realy good thrift shop nearby that he should check out, and you guys should get dinner before because namjoon knows this really cool place and-

and it’s a date.

namjoon has every intention to kiss you that night after the gig, but he wants to ask you first and he’s not sure exactly how so he’s just like “um ??? can i ??? uhhh ?? do you ??? uh”

and ur like, “hey, namjoon, i really want u to kiss me, please?”

the rest is history.

you two are too cute, with your instagram aesthetic and lowkey couple outfits, and highkey couple pics, i’d follow.

you two would be gOALS, and it does wonders for both your careers tbh

omg imagine all the cool collaborations you two could do.

and eventually namjoon would go viral again when the paparazzi captures him spilling his coffee and your cute reaction.

but the best thing about dating model namjoon is he makes you your very own playlist.

and you get your very own story highlight with all the aesthetic pics he snaps of you just like buying milk and stealing his fries, and exploring the city on sundays afternoons, going vintage shopping and reading in the park, titled: “bae.” with every colour heart.

hyping each other in the comments always.

and the thirst omg

anyway, nsfw under the cut.

so you take it kinda slow at first because turns out namjoon has a huge crush on you and he lowkey can’t keep his hands off you but also wants to “date you properly”, whatever that means.

props to you if you get impatient with him and tease him a little, a thirst trap here, a netflix and chill there, sending a sexy song his way, or even better post it on your story for him to see.

if it doesn’t provoke him to action it’ll at least get him hard flustered, which is cute.

in the end joon is a soft boy and you can sit up all night talking, so you end up talking about sex long before having it.

and that just makes it all the more special tbh

and when it does happen, it’s like everything else the two of you do, a little awkward at first, a little clumsy, fumbly, but a lot of fun, and it’s namjoon, and you love namjoon. so, so much.

like it doesn’t matter if he accidentally bumps your nose, because he’ll apologise and the two of you will just giggle and continue.

and he might pull your hair on accident, but that way you can admit to him that it’s.. kinda hot.

and when your teeth collide when you kiss it’s only because any amount of distance between you quickly becomes unbearable, and you both need each other so, so much.

imagine slow, lazy sunday morning snuggle fuck with namjoon.

and then later when you’re on a blanket in the park reading both your books he’ll get distracted, thinking about it, lean in close and tell you something ridiculous like he wishes you would wake him up by sitting on his face.

and imagine backstage heavy petting after a show, leaving the afterparty early, because you’re both buzzing with unrelieved tension and namjoon is very hard in his pants, pressing himself against you as you try to have a polite conversation with some influencer.

love, love, loooooves, watching you ride.

and he’ll go down on you for hours if you let him, honestly.

anytime, anywhere tbh

how did you get so lucky?

#namjoon smut #namjoon scenario #namjoon #namjoon imagine #bts scenarios #bts smut #BTS au #bts imagines #bts reactions #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop imagines

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its-pronounced-quoassoint · 5 years ago

Text

Power Rangers AU-Chapter 7

Pairings: romantic Logicality, Prinxiety, Demus, Remile

This Chapter Features: Patton centric storyline, YouTuber!Patton, discussions of a fake fanfiction about Reddie

This Chapter Warnings: swearing, falling from a building, fighting, allusions to anxiety, a transphobic comment, fainting/passing out, use of the word slut(1 time), sympathetic Deceit and Remus

Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post)

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic please let me know in reply!

This chapter is long, I didn’t expect it to be so long and to take so long, but this quarentine is not going so good for me. I’m gonna try and get another chapter out soon, but we’ll see. Sorry it’s so long, but I don’t want to split it in half. Anyway, please all of you stay safe and virus free!

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Chapter 7-Blank

"Okay, this is our last shot to figure something out about Virgilius before we can't predict when he's gonna show up again!" Thomas yelled.

"Correct. We have to make this count!" Logan agreed.

Patton and the others nodded and continued running to the sight of the breach. It was a nice Wednesday afternoon and Virgilius had apparently decided to let them finish the school day before attacking. As October drawled on the nights became just a little chillier with the ocean breeze swirling through town. Patton was naturally a faster runner than the others so Logan had assigned him to racing ahead, getting to a high vantage point, and helping him assess the situation.

Patton rounded a street corner and arrived at the little crossroads in the city where many restaurants had outdoor seating and a lot of public activity. Now, the usually quiant area, had a giant rip in space and time the was pouring out monsters like an open wound. Patton summoned his bow, spotted a perfect building roof just next to him, and shot and arrow. As the arrow flew to the roof, a pink lasso type of string extended from it, and once the arrow landed, Patton was pulled into the air.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, when the heck did you get grappling hook arrows?!" Remus shouted.

"Training on Sunday. I found out I could summon them!" Patton replied.

"If you had been there you would have seen it." Roman remarked.

Patton reached the roof and climbed over the ledge, running across so he faced the square. Monsters were piling out of the breach and pedestrians were all around, cowering and screaming. Patton knocked an arrow back and began firing at the breach.

"Yeah well," Remus paused. "I was busy."

"What could you have possibly been doing?!" Logan asked.

"More like who could you have been doing." Roman mumbled.

"Heard that." Patton chastized.

"Are you slut shaming me right now?" Remus asked incredulously.

"I dunno are you being a s-"

"Shut it you two!" Dee barked.

"What do you see?" Logan asked.

"Pedestrians are everywhere, it doesn't seem like the minions are engaging with them, but if we don't hurry I think they might." Patton explained, firing another arrow.

"What's the call?" Roman asked.

The rest of the Rangers entered the square and looked to Logan expectantly.

"Are they looking to leave the square or are they staying here?" Logan asked.

"Staying here."

"Alright. Here's the plan. Green and Yellow, you two handle the minions around the outside, any of the ones that look like they're ready to attack civilians or ones that might leave the square. Black and Red, you two cover the breach. I'm going to try and direct civilians out of the square and behind the Twisters. Pink, I want you to cover my flank so the others don't have to worry." Logan explained. "Got it?"

Everyone gave an affirmative response.

"Okay." Logan nodded back.

The Rangers broke off. Remus and Dee ran in opposite directions, handling any straggling monsters that strayed from the rest. Roman and Thomas ran forward, slashing through the monsters that hoarded around the breach. Logan raced to the restaurant side of the sqaure, and began helping pedestrians up and getting them running to the alley that let out behind Twisters.

Megan's working today. Patton remembered, his stomach dropping a little. She's in that Twisters. Patton didn't want to think about her possibly getting hurt and continued to try and focus on helping Logan safely transport the pedestrians, but he found it more difficult than usual.

"Hey, so, did you ever come up with a new name for these things?" Remus asked.

"What?" Logan scoffed.

"I hate the word minions, you know that. Those yellow demons plague my nightmares. So, can we please think of something else!" He whined.

"I think just referring to them as monsters is fine." Logan replied.

"That's because you have no imagniation!" Roman, ever the one for dramatics, accompanied him saying this with a slash of his sword and triumphant stance.

"I have-" Logan stooped down to help a small child and their mother out of their hiding place and directed them to the twisters. "an adequate amount of imagination."

"Thinkin' about Patton without a shirt on, is not imagination." Remus sighed.

"Green!!" Thomas, Roman, and Dee scolded.

Patton tried his best to stay focused on helping protect the pedestrians, but he found it more and more difficult, however he didn't think the others' conversation had to do with it.

"Anyway, back to what I was saying earlier, I hate the word minion I say we call them something like, Witchlings!"

"Witchlings?" Thomas asked. "Explain."

"Well ya know, Dragon Witch, Witchlings. It sorta works." Remus shrugged.

"Can't we just stick with monsters?" Logan sighed.

"No!" Remus practically howled.

"Patton how does the breach look now?" Roman asked.

"Um," Patton turned. "Monsters are coming out much slower, and you've lessened the amount quite a bit, but I wouldn't take any chances."

"That was the last of the pedestrians." Logan informed. "Green and Yellow, join me and close in around the breach. Pink, I want you to take over for those two."

"On it!" Patton replied, lowering his bow and searching the sqaure.

He assumed the others were following Logan's orders and tried not to worry. Patton found a monster and pulled an arrow back, firing directly between its shoulder blades. The monster turned to ash. Patton looked around again and found another straggler heading for one of the restaurants.

"This looks like the last of them!" Thomas called.

"Okay, stay on your guard everyone, we all know what happens next." Roman said.

"Do your best to recall anything that happens, all of this interaction could be important." Logan reminded.

Patton affirmed the directions and turned his attention back to lookng for any monsters that left the pack. Then a chill went down his spine. Patton stiffined, the hair on his neck stood up and a bad feeling washed over him. Something is wrong.

"Heya Pink. We don't really get to talk much do we?" A dark voice said behind him.

Patton whipped his body around and came face-to-face with Virgilius. His crown even more daunting up close. The bad feeling only got worse. It was unnatural. Wrong. Patton wanted to get away as fast as he could. To his legs that apparently meant stepping back far too much, tripping on the side of the building, and falling.

He screamed. The wind rushed by him and he felt weightless as he fell. He wasn't thinking. All that ran through his mind was that feeling of uneasy wrong that hit him in the chest. It spread and overwhelmed his senses. His unfocused manner and inability to grasp the situation only made him more worried.

Then the wind stopped. He was in someone's arms so quickly he felt whiplash in his neck. His eyes were still unfocused but he could see and register Remus's green armor. Patton pulled in closer to Remus and grasped what he could.

"Pat are you okay?" Remus asked.

"I-" Patton paused. "yeah, I-I think I am."

Patton released Remus from his hug and allowed him to set him down. The feeling was lessened, but not completely gone. It was almost like phantom pains, not his feelings, but the affect someone else's feelings had on him.

"Aww Pink, why'd ya leave so soon. I was just getting started." Virgilius practically cackled from the roof.

Patton turned back up to him. His eyes caught the gaze of the six purple ones and he tried to read any emotion behind them. Nothing. Unable to see any of Virgilius's other features, Patton tried to focus on his posture. Relaxed, almost lazy.

Patton's attention was torn away. He felt a content and calming feeling push into him. It was frantic though, as if someone was trying desperately to make him feel good again. To take away the fear that Patton worried could consume him. When he registered the arms wrapped around him Patton turned to face Logan who was holding him tightly. Logan buried his head into Patton's shoulder. He wasn't used to Logan hugging him. Typically in times of distress one of the two would place a comforting hand on the other's forearm. This hug though, it was new and certainly welcomed. Patton realized he should proabably hug back, and did so with great enthusiasm. However, almost right away Logan let go.

"I'm sorry." He said, his voice level, but on edge. "I-I suppose I was scared. I'm not entirely sure why though, even if Remus didn't catch you, with your armor being so protective you would have suffered a broken bone or two at the very worst. It's illogical for me to feel so worrisome over such a fall."

"Aww." Patton reached out to hold Logan's forearm like he had done so many times before. "Guess I'm just turning you into a big ol' hugger huh?"

"I wouldn't have phrased it like that, but I guess more physical affection is something I have been growing more accomadated to. Especially with you." Logan's voice had grown more shaky as he said this, but it only made Patton's heart melt.

"That's friendship my dear Blue." Patton chuckled.

It was quiet for a little bit too long.

"I'm sorry am I too far away, or did Kirby here just friendzone this poor guy?" Virgilius yelled from his vantage point.

"What?" Patton squeaked a little more than he would have preffered. He looked over to see the other Rangers in various states of frustration.

"We don't have time for this." Logan scowled. "Red!"

"Right!" Roman let his hand fall from where he had it on his forehead. He looked up to Virglius. "Prince Virgilius! Your reign of terror ends here! You've done nothing but wreak havok. The terrorizing of these people stops today!"

"Uh-huh, okay, and what makes you think that? Hm? You haven't stopped me in the past, and nothing about today makes your odds any better. What could possibly make you think today is the day?" Virgilus yelled back.

"Well-"

"What did you think about Richie and Eddie leaving?!?" Remus called up to him.

"What are you doing?" Roman turned on his brother.

"Trust me." Remus said.

"What?! No, why would I trust-"

"Roman, trust him." Dee cut in. "We talked about this we know what we're doing."

"I'm sorry what?" Virgilius asked.

"The last chapter was posted yesterday. I'm sure you read it." Dee stated, Patton didn't like how calm he was.

"Richie and Eddie left Derry, together. With the others." Remus began explaining. "It came out of nowhere. What did you think of it though? Be real."

"I-I-" Virgilius pulled his hands to his chest and stepped back. "I don't know what you're-"

"Yes you do." Dee stopped his rebuttal. "Downright ended and we know you read it. Just tell us what you thought."

It was quiet.

"Guys, this isn't-" Roman started.

"I liked it." Virgilius said, albiet hesitantly. "I know a lot of people in the comments weren't too pleased because it seemed like leaving Derry diminished the whole point of their recovery together. If they were just going to leave anyway, why spend so long trying to regain the love for the things that they had before."

It was silent again.

"But I thought it made sense." Virgilius continued. "Richie and Eddie spent a lot of time trying to reconnect with their town, but it only really made them want to go back to the past. When things were easier. Not go forward with the new lives they wanted to start together. Being together made it different. It made them realize how moving on and away from Derry wasn't running from their past, they had already accepted the past for what it was. Instead, leaving Derry together was a way of starting a new. Not burying the past, but no longer letting it affect them."

The air was still. Patton had no idea what to do other than think, I need to read this fanfiction apparently.

"So you figured me out!" Virgilius stirred them from their dazes. "What was the point of that? You got me, good for you, what are you doing just rubbing it in?!"

"No!" Dee stopped him. "I swear we're not. We-uh-we were curious. I mean, I never read fanfiction, but the ending to that one stuck with me and I've been trying to figure out why. It just seemed like a pointless build up to some kind of half-assed epiphany. Like the writer had tossed the last six chapters out the window. I was so confused about why she went that way."

"And I thought about the same thing as you!" Remus cut in. "It made sense to me when they left, it just felt more like they were leaving becuase they didn't know how to be together in a town where they didn't feel loved. Derry didn't love them and they loved each other too much to let the town get in the way. Leaving was their best chance at being with each other, being where they wanted to be."

"They just wanted to be happy together." Virgilius seemed to agree. "It didn't make sense to stay somewhere that was training them to stay apart. Being together was what made them happy. All they really wanted was each other and the rest of the Losers' Club."

Another beat of silence.

"Virgilius!" Dee got his attention. "I know we're supposed to be fighting, but I don't want to. Whatever you've been told about us, about how we're liars and cheats, it isn't true. Uh. . . to an extent. We're not perfect, but I'm sure whatever is going on up there, we can help you with."

"He's right!" Patton decided to step in. "We aren't always the best, but we try to be. I don't know what's going on with you, but I can tell that something isn't right. He means it when he says we can help. We help each other, and we help ourselves. We'll be here to help you too."

It was still again. Patton thought he could feel the exhaustion coming off of Virgilius. The weariness grew as they talked to him. It was ridiculous though to think that, how could he sense the prince's emotions from that far away. Patton couldn't see his face, so why did he feel so tired of the fighting. It wasn't his tire though, it wasn't like Logan's exhaustion, or Roman's, or any of the other Rangers'. It was foreign, and strong.

Virgilius screamed.

It was close to hellish. All of the Rangers went to cover their ears and block it out. Patton kept his eyes trained on the prince. He tried desperately to see what was happening, only to find a thick, black, inky aura beginning to surround him. It pulsed and expanded, circling Virgilius's body. Virgilius began to rise into the air, his arms and legs limp, his face still shrouded in the shadows of his crown. His eyes were no longer a glowing purple. Virgilius's body began floating to the ground, slowly and steadily, moving with the aura.

His feet his the ground and the aura exploded. It covered the entire square, encompassing everything in a shroud of blackness. Patton could still see, but it strained his eyes as he tried to find Logan's arm to hold. The screaming stopped suddenly.

"You insufferable brats!!!"

Patton looked to the source of the voice and realized he was no longer standing. None of the Rangers were. The only one standing now was Virgilius.

"Do you know how long it has taken to perfect this thing?!! Perfect my army?!!" It was a woman's voice Patton realized. The voice was domineering and overbearing with a lower undertone that followed, like it was being echoed by a demon.

Finally Patton got the strength to look up at Virgilius. He sucked in a breath of shock as he saw the hood had falled, the crown now being the only thing on his head. He could see Virgilius's face! Patton began attempting to burn it into his memory. His jaw was round, not very defined, his cheeks were a little puffy, but not as much as his own. His cheekbones were very defined however, almost unnaturally so. The first pair of eyes were small, they sat about eye brow level, then the main set of larger eyes, and finally the smallest set right below the middle ones. The outline of his eyes was like his cheekbones, unnaturally sharp. His hair fell to the left of his crown, down to the center of his middle set of eyes.

Virgilius's eyes aren't glowing purple, Patton remembered. He stared up into Virgilius's eyes. His irises were a bright angellic white and his pupils a darker than night black. It was just as unnerving as before.

"Oh I thought I had seen the last of you but you're just so persistant aren't you! It's stupidity is what it is!! It's not human nature, it's not being good people, it's not trying to help those who can't help themselves!! It's stupidity!!!" The voice screamed. "You're all so stubborn and stupid!!!"

"Ngh-" Patton heard Thomas from just a few feet away. he was shuffling around, likely trying to get to his knees. "You're going to lose! And this boy that you're using as a little pawn isn't going to be yours much longer. He's not weak and you're not in control."

"Oh . . . you're not new." The voice replied, almost bored. "How dissappointing. You won't last very long you know. And these kids you've got as the new Rangers, they aren't going to last either. You may be stubborn enough to stay alive, but you're stupid enough to keep fighting."

"And you're weak." Dee said with a strength Patton wished he could muster for himself. He begged and pleaded for his body to do more than look on.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me you sick bitch!" He yelled. "You're using him! Forcing him to fight us because you can't do it on your own. He's going to leave the twisted hold you have on him one of these days and there's nothing you can do about it. You won't even get down here yourself to fight us!!!"

"Dee-" Patton heard Remus struggle to speak.

"Boy, do you know how many worlds I've conquered? How many civilizations I've made my own?! Believe it or not, I don't care all too much about handling this planet on my own. There are other, more important places for me to be." The voice cackled, it sounded so much like Virgilius, Patton wanted to shrink away. "I don't care about Earth enough to fight for it in person. I can leave that to my little Works-In-Progress. Like this one. This place is perfect training for things like him."

"You can't keep doing this very long." Roman grunted. "We will stop you!"

"Oh please kid. I've fought much worse than you. You're nothing! At least the last Red Ranger was something worth fighting. She was certainly an opponent for my experiments. You though, you don't even come close." She snarled in return.

"Then why are we still alive?! Why are we still here, fighting you!" Logan huffed, clearly straining.

"Now Blue, your Ranger has always been something. Never the same really. I have to say, having a level headed one is a change of pace, but being the smartest in a room means nothing if you can't command respect! You hold yourself like even you can't stand the way you are. You act like you're on a higher level of thinking than others, but really you're just as much of an indiscisive mess as everyone else on this pathetic planet! You don't understand your feelings, you pretend you care only to know deep down you would do anything to be known as the smartest in the room, and to top it all off you're not even a real boy!!"

"Shut up!!!" Patton let out the words, not even realizing they were his own, but it was how he felt.

"Now here's our fighter. Pink. Unexpected sure, but then again, the hell you put yourself through in our own mind is much worse than I could ever really do. I'll give you props for that." Her voice was drowning Patton's ears. He was so angry, he just wanted her to shut up. "In fact, I'll give all of you a little credit. I've certainly thought about going the tear-them-apart-from-the-inside route, but you all are so self-destructive, you do it on your own!"

She was going on, but her words were muddled in Patton's head. He didn't know what she was saying and didn't want to. Then an idea came to mind. Patton tried his hardest, pulling all of his strength and will, he just needed to shut her up. He needed to do something other than sit there. He felt the determination bubbling inside of him, he felt the fear but he channeled, tried to force that fear to make him fight, not run. Patton summoned his bow. It felt so heavy in his hand. Everything was heavy, pulling him down, prying to keep him down. He lifted his torso, fighting the aching it gave him. Patton pulled his arms up, summoning an arrow, and knocking it back.

"Sorry Virgilius, but you gotta go for now." He said, it felt like he was yelling but only a whisper came out.

Then he fired, straight for the crown. In the blink of Patton's eyes the crown had been knocked to the ground. The black aura was gone, Virgilius collapsed to the cement, his eyes purple once again. Patton watched as the world tilted to the side, dimming. His head hit something hard, but he barely registered it.

It was black.

Virgilius scrambling, grabbing for the crown.

Black.

Virgilius again, until the boy disappeared.

Then fuzzy black again. Not like the ink. This blackness was welcoming, not overwhelming.

Patton felt a hand on his arm. He opened his eyes again and saw Logan, his mouth was moving but there was no sound other than the ringing. When did the ringing start? Patton asked himself. Logan looked so terrified. Patton didn't like that expression. Suddenly Thomas came into view, he was also speaking, but it was nothing Patton could hear.

Then finally, the fuzzy black. Patton realized he didn't like calling it black. His world wasn't black. That black, inky terror wasn't in his vision. It was more blank. That's the word, blank. Blankness. A blank world.

Patton let a smile fall on his face. He was okay with everything being blank. Just for a bit.

Taglist:

@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors @maddarc @pheonix-inside-reblogs @thisismysanderssidesblog @almost-all-my-ships-are-gay @mostpeopleannoyme @the-smol-est @i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake @nadja-chamack16 @too-bi-too-function @rainbowbowtie @mistypelt1234 @tricksterangel25 @authorized-trash @echocw @stripestar128128 @coffee-mugz @slitherynchicken

#patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #logicality #thomas sanders #power rangers au #virgil sanders #prinxiety #sympathetic dark sides

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