#i definitely wonder if i should be medicated again to take that into account

[otaku-hotgirl]

procrastination, as usual, had been beating my ass

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute, Chapter 4 - Law

Source for the pic

Word Count: 4487 (these just keep getting bigger!)

Warnings: Fem!Reader, This is going to be a series featuring Ace, Sanji, Law, Zoro and Kid.

Special Warning: English is not my first language!

Summary: You had your life in Grand Line City all figured out. A wonderful job, a fiancé and a shared apartment. Until you found out he was cheating. Your father, Shanks, had a horse riding accident and you decided that this was just the right time to return home. You were expecting a peaceful, uneventful life back in the Calm Belt, but, fate had other plans.

Notes: I'm really sorry if I messed up some medical expressions. I tried to Google everything first!

| Chapter 3 - Zoro | |Chapter 5 - Sanji|

Law:

Your dad's grunts and wails have been increasing both in volume and in intensity, so you let out a long breath of relief as you finally park the truck at the clinic’s - thankfully almost empty - parking space. 

“Hey, dad” you say softly as your heart clenches at the sight of your father’s sweaty face and scrunched up brows. “I'm going to grab you a wheelchair and some help, okay?”

You take his grunt as a positive answer and run inside the clinic, only noticing your dishevelled state as you catch sight of your reflection in the glass doors: your white top is not white anymore and there's a tear at the bottom; your shorts have dirt and oil all over them; you don't even want to get started on your knees and legs, which are bruised and scraped from kneeling on the dirt; and your once perfectly braided hair is no longer perfect and it is barely braided. 

You sigh as you enter the clinic and wince in pain as you step your foot wrong. You definitely sprained it when you were with Zoro. 

You drag yourself to the front desk and the blonde girl gasps as she looks at your state. “Oh, my!” She gets up hastily and goes around the desk to reach you. “Are you all right?”

You nod frantically. “I'm fine, I'm fine. I-... Kaya?”

The girl looks at you with a furrowed brow but it doesn't take her more than five seconds before her mouth turns into an ‘o’ and she exclaims your name happily. “You're back! It's been ages!”

You laugh and nod. “Yes, we should catch up. After we get my father inside. He hurt his back and-...”

“Again?” You swear this time your ears start fuming. This has happened more than once and this doctor keeps sending him home? Oh, he is going to get a piece of your mind. “Shachi, Penguin, can you be darlings and bring Mr. S. inside? He's had another incident.”

You cross your arms against your chest and frown as you watch two men go outside with a wheelchair to bring your father inside. 

“They'll take him to Dr. Trafalgar. How about you, sweetie, are you alright? You don't seem well.” Kaya was your friend from kindergarten to half of the middle school, until she went home to be home-schooled. You lost touch with her even before you left town, but she has always been such a nice friend that you actually find yourself sharing a soft smile with the blonde. 

“I've had a few mishaps with the car before getting here.” You sigh. “I'll go freshen up in the bathroom and then I'll meet my dad. Is that alright?”

She nods and points you to the ladies’ room. You stand in front of the mirror and, as you're passing your fingers through your hair, trying - and failing - to detangle its knots, you realise you should eat something. You discarded breakfast on account of that stupid asshole and his selfies, and you and your father didn't have a chance to eat lunch. 

But first, you let out a deep sigh at your appearance, you should try to make yourself presentable. You don't want to chew the doctor's ears out looking like a hobo. 

Washing up as best as you can, massaging your sprained ankle, and redoing your braid - there's nothing to be done about the state of your clothes - you deem yourself somewhat presentable and, as you leave the bathroom, you see your father being wheeled to a room so you follow him quickly. 

“Daddy!”

“Buuuuuug! The doc gave me the good stuff!” He slurs and guffaws, opening his arm and almost throwing himself off the chair to hug you. Then he turns his voice into a whisper. “He stabbed a needle in ma butt!” Shanks uses his hand to hide his cheeky laugh before he continues. “Imma stay here for a while because they'll put some more drugs in my arm. And then we can go.”

What? IV and an injection? That's the whole treatment? No. Not on your watch. 

“Yeah, that's good dad, rest.” You smile at him and then turn to the man with the brown hair who is wheeling him. “Hey, where's the doctor's office? I need to speak with him.”

“Er… I… Hum… Dr. Trafalgar doesn't like unannounced visitors…” He stutters but you silence him with an angry look. “But if you must know, it's that door.” He then chuckles nervously and wheels Shanks to a room. 

You take a deep breath and stomp towards the office the attendant pointed out to you. After one step, you stop stomping because your ankle hurts too much, but you still make it to your destination. You knock lightly on the door, because you're not a savage, but start to tap your foot on the floor when you don't get an immediate answer. 

As you raise your fist for a second round of angrier knocks, you hear a deep ‘come in’ from inside the office and you open the door, wearing a frown. 

Which is quickly turned into a stunned expression because you didn't quite know what to expect from the doctor you've been hearing about, but this was not it. 

He's hot. 

There's no other way to describe the man in front of you. His black hair is tousled to perfection and you have to swallow a lump when he fixes his amber gaze upon your own. The frown and the furrowed brows only add to his allure, as you notice the tattooed forearms and knuckles. What an interesting choice of tattoos for a doctor, you can't help but think. 

They spell DEATH. 

The rest of his arms are covered by his white coat but you can't help but wonder if he has more ink on them. But that wondering soon stops, because he's already asked you twice about what you need and you have been transfixed in the same spot, drooling at him. 

“Right, hi! My father. Shanks! He was just here.” You exclaim as if that explains everything. 

“Yes, I know. I'm his doctor.”

He stares at you. “Oh, it’s my turn.” You stumble with your words and, is that an amused smirk in the stoic doctor’s face? Couldn't be, since it disappeared as soon as it appeared. “What is wrong with him? I keep hearing that he needs to come to the clinic more than once a week because of his back. That's not normal.” You seem to regain your cool and remember that you are there to get some answers from this man. 

He leans back in his chair and gestures for you to sit but you're too wound up to stay still, so you decline and start pacing the office. You're having a hard time breathing, so you start to fan yourself with your hand. 

“You're right, it's not.”

“What is it, then?”

His fingers entwine with one another as his gaze follows your form. You're limping, fanning both of your hands now, and you look like shit. You must be quite a spectacle.

“Doctor/patient confidentiality.”

“Are you kidding me?” Does your voice usually sound so far away? Because everything seems super bright and all the sounds are blending together. You stop and grip the back of the chair tightly, your knuckles turning white from the strength. 

“I'm not. Your father is sane and, other than his back, of good health. I have discussed treatment plans with him. He knows what he has and he knows what he needs to do in order to recover. To you, I can't say anything without his explicit permission.” You see him tense up as he stares at you and your behaviour. His brows furrow further as he turns his body to the side, as if he's about to get up. 

“But I'm his daughter!” You let out a ridiculous whine and start to gasp for air. 

“And I'm his doctor.” He gets up and approaches you. “Sit. You're so pale I can almost see through you. When was the last time you ate and-...”

That's the last thing you remember before waking up in a bed next to your father. 

-*-

You blink as your eyes adjust to the brightness of the room and take shallow breaths. Your head is throbbing and the constant beeping noise from the machine is not helping you at all. You realise that the beeping machine is hooked to you through your finger, as well as an IV attached to your arm. 

You raise your torso with a grunt and see that the cuts and bruises on your legs have been tended to, and your ankle is now sporting a not-so-fashionable elastic bandage with a pack of ice sitting on it. 

“Bug! You’re up!” Your dad flails his arm in the bed next to you to get you to look at him. “Law! Kaya! Someone!”

Pressing your thumb and index finger against the bridge of your nose, you sigh deeply. “Dad, dad, there’s a button to call the nurse next to the bed, please don’t scream.”

But it’s not necessary to use the button because Kaya enters the room with a concerned smile and gravitates towards you. “Sweetie, how are you?” Her voice is so gentle and kind that it forces an immediate smile from your lips. 

“My head is killing me. What happened?”

“Well, Dr. Trafalgar said it’s probably hypoglycemia - low blood sugar - he had some blood tests done, the results should be in at any moment. Have you eaten anything today?”

You nod and are about to say yes, of course, but the words don’t leave your mouth because they are not true. You really haven’t eaten anything today. “No.”

“Then, that’s definitely it.” Kaya giggles. “I could hear you yelling at Dr. Trafalgar from where I was sitting. He looked kind of flustered when he opened the office door, carrying you in his arms.”

You blush as your eyes widen. “What?”

“Well, you were unconscious, so he carried you to the examination room.” She giggles again and lowers her voice so your father doesn’t hear the rest. “Sweetie, you two looked straight out of a romantic movie. He was carrying you bridal style with a look of concern and you looked rather frail all curled up against his strong frame.”

You keep feeling your face getting hotter as the beep from the machine next to you grows louder and faster. Kaya has always loved romantic movies, so it’s no wonder she would think something silly like this. For all you know, Dr. Trafalgar was dangling you by one arm and you banged your head on all the thresholds before reaching this room.

It would explain the throbbing headache. 

“Nurse Kaya, I do hope you’re questioning the patient about medical history and the possible cause of this incident and not engaging in idle gossiping?”

You gasp alongside Kaya as Dr. Trafalgar approaches you both, a scowl on his face and his brows scrunched. How is his forehead not permanently wrinkled from all the pouts and frowns?

“No, I was just gossiping. I’m sorry.” Kaya giggles as you gasp at her truthful response. Is she allowed to speak like this with her superior? His stare at Kaya is so intense that, after a moment, she excuses herself and leaves you two alone with your father on the other bed, seemingly distracted by a soap opera on TV, until he spots the doctor next to you.

“Oh, Law! How is my baby girl?”

“Don’t call me that, dad.” You whisper between clenched teeth. Law? Is that the doctor’s first name?

“I’m going to examine her now, Mr. S. You can watch your show.” Shanks mouths a droopy ‘okay’ and turns back to the TV. He is still pretty high on drugs, apparently. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” His amber eyes stare at yours and you feel compelled to look at his name tag, instead, but then you are staring at his chest, and is that more ink coming out from the neck of the shirt he is wearing? Does he have a chest piece?

The beeping becomes faster and you switch back to the piercing eyes. “No, I haven’t.” You say, trying to distract yourself. 

“It’s certainly hypoglycemia, then. I will observe you.”

You nod and he removes the stethoscope from his neck, pushing it against your exposed cleavage. “Breathe in.” You take a deep breath. “Now out.” You do. He takes a step forward and tells you to lean forward as he repeats the process on your back. “In. Out.” 

He reaches for a small pen-like flashlight from his coat pocket and points it at your eyes. “Look up. Down. Now the other one, up. Down. Okay, that’s it.”

“That’s it? Aren't you going to say I'm a good girl?” You giggle for a second and then stop abruptly. Suddenly mortified as his eyes pierce into your own with an unreadable expression. “I'm sorry. That was stupid. Are there drugs here?” You point to the IV and as his stare doesn't waver, the beeping on the machine just keeps getting faster and louder. 

“That's just a dextrose and saline solution. No drugs. That was all you.”

The machine just beeps louder and louder and you grunt as you rip the monitor off of your finger, rendering the beeping into a continuous, even more annoying, beep.

“Stupid thing! I think that might be broken.” You snort, wail and hide your face in your hands. Can you be an even bigger idiot? Why are you acting like this? Aren't you supposed to be yelling at this doctor on account of your father? Where has all of your bravado gone? 

Out the window when you passed out and were carried like a princess by her knight in shining armour. As well as all your sane thoughts on feminism and women’s rights, apparently.

Crap. 

“Are you done?” He asks, deadpan as he turns off the monitor and the beeping stops. Now you’re frustrated again, but you simply pout and nod without making eye contact. 

He flips through some files and hums softly. “Your blood tests came out normal. This was a simple incident of low blood-sugar, next time try not to stay too long without eating anything, or, at least, if you’re going to fast, drink plenty of liquids, tea or water, preferably.”

“I wasn’t fasting.” You mumble between clenched teeth, your eyes locked on the chipped nail polish that had come out when you ripped the monitor that was attached to your finger. 

“Whatever weird diet you are on, then. Stop it. You look extremely healthy, you don’t need it.” Could that have been a veiled compliment?

“M’not on a diet.” Your mumble is even quieter.

“Sorry?”

“I’m not on any diet, or fasting, or anything. I just didn’t eat, that’s all.” This time you speak loud and cross your arms over your chest for emphasis.

“You didn’t eat the breakfast I cooked, bug? Is this still because of that jackass fiancé that cheated on you?” Shanks is literally screaming so you know that, by now, the entire clinic knows you’ve been cheated on. Yet you simply inhale, use the back of your hand to wipe away a stray tear and nod.

“I'm going to kill him.” Shanks simply declares as he tries to get up from the bed. “Law, help me kill him.”

You glimpse that amused smirk on the corner of his lips as he watches your father struggling with the bed covers. 

“I would really like to be your partner in crime, Mr. S. But, you see, I took an oath.”

That statement makes you giggle and he turns his gaze back at you, smirk still in place, and your heart does a weird thing that makes you catch your breath. 

“Shove that oath up your-... Ouch, dammit!” Shanks’ legs get tangled in the sheets and he almost falls as he tries to get up. 

“Mr. S. please calm down. We're not killing anyone today okay?” Dr. Trafalgar turns to you. “He seems pretty determined, maybe you should distract him with something less illegal?”

Is he funny as well? He seems so stoic and uptight but he's responding to your father's shenanigans with a dark humour that's making you laugh. 

“Daddy, lie back down on the bed, we will schedule another day to kill him, I promise.” You use your commanding tone and your father grunts before settling back down again. “Besides, since it's the three of us together, I would like to ask you, Shanks, what's the treatment that Dr. Trafalgar recommended for your back because the Dr. doesn't want to share that information with me.”

Your lips turn thin as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“That's a good lad, Law. Thank you.”

You glare at both of them but Dr. Trafalgar just raises his arms defensively. “Doctor/patient confidentiality!”

“Dad!” You huff at the same time as your father groans loudly.

“Just tell her, Law. Or I'll never hear the end of it. And I still have a murder to commit.” He mumbles. 

You turn your attention back to the doctor and try your best not to give him your ‘see you could've told me earlier and we would've avoided this whole situation’ look, but you definitely give him one of those. 

“Your father has a herniated disc in his spine. This occurs when the soft inner core of a disc between the vertebrae protrudes through the tough outer layer, putting pressure on nearby nerves.” 

Your brows tighten at all the medical jargon but you're understanding the essentials, so you nod for him to continue. 

“Mr. S. experiences stabbing pain that radiates along the path of the affected nerve and can lead to episodes of intense pain and sometimes a feeling of weakness or numbness in the affected area. Activities that cause strain on the spine can make it worse. Something like bending down or lifting stuff.”

You turn to your father with a glare in your gaze, your frown heavy and your eyes watery. “I told you you should rest!” Your words are but a sliver that escapes your lips. Dr. Trafalgar continues.

“When the medication hasn't provided enough relief, as it's your father’s case, surgery may be recommended. The procedure typically involves removing the herniated portion of the disc to relieve pressure on the nerves and alleviate symptoms.”

The silence stretches and evolves into a thick fog that encapsulates the three of you within. Your next words are measured carefully, but need to be asked. “Is it a complicated procedure?”

Of course it is! It's on the spine! 

“Each case is unique on its own. The complexity can vary based on factors such as the location and size of the herniation, as well as your father's overall health.”

“And the risks?” Your gaze alternates between the doctor’s professional stance and your father's slumped and defeated form.

“Like any surgery there are inherent risks of infections or allergic reactions. Specifically to this surgery, there's always the chance of the symptoms remaining or that another surgery might be necessary. There's also a more severe risk of nerve damage, which can cause temporary numbness or weakness. Yet, in this case, I would argue that the benefits far outweigh the risks.”

“Dad…” You start. 

“I don't want to discuss this right now.” He discards the use of your nickname and calls you by your birth name, declaring his seriousness of the matter. 

Your lower lip trembles and you nod at him letting out a very soft ‘okay’. Suddenly, realisation hits you. This was probably the reason why he had the horse riding incident. It was the cause not the consequence. 

Dr. Trafalgar places a very gentle hand over yours and you gasp at the shock of his touch. “I will send nurse Kaya to remove your IV and your father's so you can both be on your way and discuss this properly.” You nod. “If you have any questions, you can always call me or visit the clinic.” You nod again, suddenly exhausted as your body starts to complain of all the abuse it suffered today. 

He leaves calling out a ‘take care, Mr. S.’ to your father at the door. Silence permeates the room as you turn and let your feet dangle from the bed, your eyes focusing on the lying form of Shanks. 

“Dad,” you start. “I know you don't want to talk about this, and I will respect your wishes, but just hear my opinion, you don't have to say anything!” You add and your father takes a deep breath but doesn't say anything so you take that as consent for you to continue. “You're young and very active. These episodes keep you from living a normal, fulfilling life. Dr. Trafalgar said that the benefits are far more than the risks and I think you should consider the surgery.”

The door opens up and Kaya comes in with a bright hello and a smile. “Think about it, dad.” You finish as Kaya stands at your side with a tray of equipment to relieve you of all the paraphernalia attached to your body. 

“So, how are we feeling?” She asks you as she swiftly disconnects the empty IV from your arm. 

You sigh and give her a lopsided smile. “I'm feeling better, Kaya, thank you.”

“Aaaaaand?” She giggles at you and your brows scrunch at her. “Dr. Trafalgar?”

You feel your cheeks grow hot, even if you will them not to. “He's very competent. He explained to me everything about my father's condition. He's very professional. I'm impressed.” As you admit this, you realise that maybe you should apologise to him for your earlier behaviour but maybe he's with another patient now. 

“That's not where I was going.” She pouts at you. “He's single, you know?”

You wince as she takes out the needle in your vein and puts a bandaid over it. “That's… okay, I guess.” You don't really know what to say. Kaya seems to be trying to set you up, but you really don't want to think about men at this moment. 

“You're impossible!” She mutters your name as she shakes her head and removes the melted ice pack from your ankle. “There, you're done. I'll take care of your father and you both can leave.”

-*-

Penguin and Shachi insisted on taking your father to the car themselves and you were at the desk with Kaya, settling the payment and documents. You were exhausted. Physically and mentally. The news about Shanks had left you preoccupied and you were having trouble processing. 

As Kaya finished inserting some data on the computer, you sighed deeply and pressed the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb, closing your eyes and trying to suppress the growing throb in your head. 

Suddenly, you feel a presence on your side as a deep voice fills the air. “Are you feeling well?”

Opening your eyes and forcing a weary smile on your lips you slightly nod. “Just the culmination of all the exciting events of today, I guess. A throbbing headache.” You shrug. 

Dr. Trafalgar takes out a set of keys from his pocket and goes behind Kaya opening one of the cabinets and taking out two pills from one container. Then he goes to the water dispenser and fills a cup. 

“Give me your hand.” You open your palm as he sets the pills there, lightly brushing his long fingers against your skin. “Take them. It will relieve the pressure on your head.” You set the pills in your mouth. “Water.” He hands the cup to you and you drink it. Then he reaches into his pocket and takes out a wrapped onigiri. “Then eat this.” You reply with a meek ‘okay’. “Good girl.”

He smirks and you nearly choke to death on another sip of water. Then you burst out laughing and you notice that the smirk is still adorning his lips. Surprisingly, he laughs along with you and you are forced to admit that the way his deep voice slurred with the words ‘good girl’ made your knees buckle and your body tingle in very unholy places. 

“I'm sorry.” You start, as soon as the laughter dies down. “For overreacting earlier.”

“It's alright. I will blame your reaction on your abnormal state.” He says cheekily and you smirk back at him. 

“By the way, do you carry all your fainting patients in bridal style?”

He scratches the back of his head and looks down, seemingly embarrassed. “Just the cute ones.” The blush spreads from your cheeks to your nose and you're left speechless. Where had the stoic doctor gone? There seemed to be a cheeky flirt in his stead, did he have a twin?

“Thank you, Dr. Trafalgar, for everything.” You decide to finish the conversation there since you're liking it way too much, which can turn very dangerous. 

He nods. “It's Law.” You raise your brow at him. “My name, call me Law.”

“Law. Thanks.” His smirk turns into a slight smile that traps your gaze as you breathe slowly. Single, right? How? 

Kaya’s soft harumph seems to wake you both from your trance and Law excuses himself with work he has to do. “Don't be a stranger.” He adds and then wishes you and your father well before leaving. You sigh as you turn to Kaya, who's watching you with a knowing look and a very silly smile. 

“This was rom/com happening in real life, I swear. Girl, I'm dying here. You need to go on a date with him!” She squeals. “I don't think I've ever heard him laugh!”

“I'm not going on any date, Kaya.” You say, deadpan as you accept the receipts she hands you. “I'm off men at the moment, thank you very much.”

“Yeah we all heard your father. Sorry about your fiancé thing… Though maybe it was better to find out before the wedding actually happened!”

You nod. You couldn't agree more, actually. “I'm going to go now. Dad and I both need rest.”

You and Kaya exchange phone numbers, not wanting to fall out of touch with her, and wave goodbye. The exhaustion is taking its toll on you and you still have to try and convince your father to agree to the surgery. Maybe you'll leave that fight to another day, though. 

As you walk to the truck you unwrap the onigiri and take a small bite. It tastes homemade. Delicious. 

As scrumptious as Dr. Trafalgar Law, actually. 

No, nope. Not gonna happen. You shake your head as you take your seat ready to face the challenge of driving with a stick yet again. And somehow, between driving with a stick and trying to avoid thinking about Dr. Law, the first one seems like an easier challenge.

[torialefay]

☀️ Everyday Idol 🌙 (Chapter 1)

✨ possible bangchan x reader (f), possible jungkook x reader (f); (however, this is a bangchan-focused fic)

✨ friends to lovers? possible love triangle? future angst and smut??? definitely fluff.

✨ summary: JYP Entertainment launches a new show and y/n somehow gets recruited. Even though she doesn’t particularly care about the outcome of the show, she does particularly care about one of the artists she met: Chris from Stray Kids. Does Chris feel the same or will a potential relationship with one of his friends overcome what y/n feels for him?

✨ author’s notes: this is my first ever post, yay! i know i have a lot to improve on, so bear with me as i figure out all of the fun stuff. leaving this as a stand alone for now until i find out if anyone is interested in this becoming a series. any feedback is super helpful! taking suggestions as well 💜

✨ warnings: cursing from time to time. gets a little emotional towards the middle. that should be about it hehe.

“Holy shit.” You stared down at your phone. A notification highlighted in tones of pink, yellow, and purple clued you into the fact quickly that it had been an Instagram notification. But the words you were reading seemed to not register.

Message request from abcedfghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz.

Wait, hold up. That’s weird. There’s no way this is his real account… Hold on.

You hurriedly clicked on the notification to open the app. It brought up a white screen with a short message surrounded by the grey Instagram text bubble.

Hey! I was wondering if you’d want to hang out sometime before you go back? We can do whatever you want. I’d just like to see you again.

You hurriedly screened your eyes back to the top of the page. In bold letters: JungKook. Right underneath, the username sprawled again: abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz.

You clicked the name and went to their profile. As bright as the sky and as plain as day, a blue checkmark next to the username. What the fuck?! There’s no way. You felt your heart start to race and your eyes shot up, looking to see who was around. You went back to the message, clicked again, and sure enough, it took you back to the same verified account. You felt your breathing start to quicken and the nerves set in. The nerves- what were they from? Excitement? Nervousness? Confusion? A mixture of them all?

“Oh God, what do I do?” You whispered to yourself while shooting your head up. Skittish all of a sudden, you examined your surroundings. You had been in the JYPE dance practice room. Light wood-colored vinyl flooring laid underneath your feet, while red walls surrounded you all the way to the ceiling, where a huge JYPE logo was attached and acted as the bright overhead lighting. You still aren’t really sure how you ended up here. Well, I guess you were, but you still couldn’t believe it. One minute, you were on a 4-week vacation to Korea, and the next, you were here- standing in a practice room for JYP Entertainment.

Merely 2 weeks ago, you had been walking along one of the busiest streets in downtown Seoul with your friend Anna. The two of you had been inseparable for the past 2 years, meeting each other in medical school in the States and relying on each other and your friend group to get you through every waking moment of it. From exam study sessions to making sure the other had woken up in time to make it to the lab, you wouldn’t find one of you without the other. Which is why you were extremely thankful that both you AND Anna were politely paused on the side of the street, being offered the opportunity of a lifetime. JYP Entertainment planned to make a new show, Everyday Idol. The concept of the show was to recruit everyday people- people in various different jobs with various different lives- to spend one week as a JYP trainee. After 2 or 3 weeks, a performance would be held. It was speculated even that JYP himself would be at the finale to make evaluations and possibly ask a select few to continue their training at JYPE. That part of it is still hearsay. No one knows what happens after the final evaluation, but it didn’t matter to you anyways. Both you and Anna had another calling- one in the medical field. You weren’t here to become an idol. You weren’t even here because you particularly liked singing and dancing. You were just here for the experience of it all… and maybe also a little because you had heard that JYP had some very handsome artists who would be involved in the training, judging, and making of the show. You told yourself that was just a bonus, but let’s be honest, it was really the deciding factor of whether you would go through with this or not. You never expected though to meet Jungkook as a friend of one of the JYP artists, but again, that was also just a bonus.

So now, here you stood. A confused mess, darting eyes across the JYPE practice room that you had finally started to feel comfortable with. One final glance at your phone. Where was Anna? You had to tell someone, right? Talk to someone before you did or said anything crazy. Flights of ideas ran through your head. You started to walk toward the exit door as fast as you possibly could without anyone thinking there was something seriously wrong. Anna had to be around here somewhere. At the cafeteria, more than likely. You two had gotten separated a short while ago, but you were sure that’s where she’d be. You paced hurriedly down the long corridor and down the 2 flights of stairs to the level holding the cafeteria. Upon getting there, a quick scouring over the room showed the strawberry blond waves of Anna’s head at a long table. She was seated at the end next to Felix. Felix was a member of Stray Kids and was also Anna’s mentor throughout her week of being a trainee. The 3 of you, well 4 really (counting your own mentor, Changbin) had gotten really close. You were introduced to the other Stray Kids members as well, as you had all gone out for drinks. Some members you got closer to than others. Like Chris for example. You felt so lucky to have really cool and down to earth guys to help you along your way. They were so much fun and made hard things seem a lot easier. But no matter how awesome they were, they weren’t Anna. You zoned in on her and quickly made your way over.

“I am quite literally not doing that,” you heard Anna say, while side-eyeing Felix.

“But think about how memorable it would be. They would never forget you at least. And as your mentor, it is my job to make you stand out during the finale. I mean, just think about it,” Felix was wide-eyed, making a rainbow motion with one hand across the sky.

You interrupted the conversation by arriving at the table. “What are we thinking about?” You asked, with a faint panic sound in your voice and out of breath.

Anna just rolled her eyes again. “Go on,” she said, head dipping down to motion toward Felix.

A huge grin spread across Felix’s face. You could tell he was about to break character and start laughing any second now. “Well, I was thinkinggg, you know since you guys are gonna be doing ‘Charmer’ for your group performance, that Anna and maybe some others should draw on some fake abs since we have to show ours too.” Felix laughed and waited for your expression. You relaxed into the joke, thinking about how iconic it really would be.

An annoyed smile crept across your mouth. Finally giving an eye roll of your own, you responded, “As much as I do think it is a main selling point of the performance… yeah, I’m with Anna. No way in hell I’m doing that.” You looked at Felix with raised eyebrows and laughed. Thinking about it, Felix really is such a cool guy. I’m glad he’s Anna’s mentor, and now, a friend.

“Touché,” he grinned and looked down. Damn y/n, hold up. You almost forgot you’re supposed to be panicking right now.

“Anna, I need you for just a sec,” you blurted out quickly, while grabbing her by the arm and elbow at the same time. She stood up swiftly and you rushed a few steps to the next table over. Although it was a long table, no one else was sitting there, and you thought it would be fine. You hurriedly plopped down into the seat, pulling her with you. “Look who the fuck just messaged me,” you excitedly tried to keep your voice down.

Anna took the phone and focused on it, squinting her eyes. Again, you could tell that she was clicking the account’s username and icon. Then re-reading the message, back and forth, back and forth again. You saw her expression go from confusion to utter shock, jaw dropping open. She set the phone down face up. “Holy shit y/n!!!” she all but squeeled. It was loud, and you could tell people were now looking your way.

“Shhh,” you scolded her, bringing both of your heads down closer to the table and establishing a low tone. “No one can know. I do NOT want this getting out, okay?” You paused and felt your heart skip a beat. “Anna, I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t know what to do?!” She borderline yelled yet again, raising her body up in the air with her proclamation.

“Anna!” You hush-yelled at her, bringing her body back down again. “Please, for the love of God, we have to be quiet. No, I don’t know what to do.”

“Bitchhh, message him back and say ‘hell yes!!!’. If you don’t, I swear I will.” You could tell she was so excited for you and she could not keep the cheesiest smile from spreading ear to ear across her face. Her eyes were lit up.

“I just don’t understand,” you spoke quietly. “He was literally such an asshole when I met him. Just arrogant and rude. Thinks he’s hot shit. He made me feel like I was the most irrelevant person ever. Like why is he even messaging me? I genuinely do not understand.” You had only met Jungkook a couple of days prior, through your new friend Chris from Stray Kids. They had been hanging out in Chris’ living room when you had gone to pick something up from Changbin. The interaction between the two of you was brief, but long enough for you to know that Jungkook was not your cup of tea. Now Chris on the other hand… Chris was something else. Chris was the exact opposite of Jungkook. The fact that they could even hang out in the same crowd baffled you. You could think of 100 ways to describe Chris, but no single word felt like it did him justice. On second thought, ‘perfect’ might do it. Did you hope that HE would be the one sending you a message wanting to hang out? Maybe. Did you have somewhat of a crush on him? DEFINITELY maybe. Okay, definitely. But you didn’t mean to. And how you ended up with that conclusion in the first place… Well, it’s a long story:

The way that JYPE had Everyday Idol set up, you would start preparing for the show 1 week before the actual filming and training process started. You had to come to the company building everyday to go over contracts, meet your mentors, tour the buildings, all of that good stuff. Although that was only an orientation week, it was one that was very important. You got to meet several artists and make so many connections. Since both your and Anna’s mentors were from Stray Kids, naturally, you met the other members and became friends with them as well. They were a super friendly group of guys and made you feel much more comfortable about going through this whole process. Each member had their own quirks, which you learned at a group dinner where every member came with their mentee. Some much-needed drinks were downed that night, with resultant memories made. One thing you learned for sure- Koreans LOVED their drinking games, and they really did bring people closer together. Well, at least it did for you. It brought you closer to Chris.

Chris wasn’t always the drinking type. He was overtly responsible for the wellbeing of Stray Kids after all. But that night was a night to cut loose and get to know new people. You and Chris bonded almost instantly. First, you found out that he had a dog, Berry, who happened to be the same breed as your own. You cut up all night about how the 2 dogs sounded like something out of a children’s book- “The Adventures of Berry and Bella”- Bella, your baby Cavalier of course. He showed you Berry’s pictures, and you showed him Bella’s. They looked almost identical. When Chan made a remark about them being long-lost sisters, you felt your breath get taken away for a split second. You being Bella’s mom and Chris being Berry’s dad… it sounded like some “The Parent Trap” shit. You were feeding into it though. You jokingly asked if he called her “Barold like Harold” and Berry was just a nickname. You later found out that he grew up loving classic rock, just like you. Apparently he got it from his parents, just like you. Minute after minute, you kept finding more similarities and never-ending things to talk about. By around 2-3 AM, everyone else was ready to head out and go to bed. But for you, it felt like time had flown by. You silently hoped that Chris had felt the same way- that he had felt the same spark in the conversations. That he had held onto every word you said, just like you did to him. That he was desparately hoping that the night could last for just 5 more minutes. That he wished you would invite him over just to chat some more.

But these were things you could only hope for. You knew your place and you knew that it had to be called a night. You said your goodbyes and gave Chris a hug. You’re not sure if you imagined it, but the hug seemed extra long and extra warm. You tried not to read too far into it... That was hardly the end though. You two became friends, joking with each other whenever you ran into the other, like at his apartment that day with Jungkook, and always mentioning to the other that a group of you were going to dinner if the other wanted to join. All casually though. It didn’t matter that you found him extremely handsome. You never went out of your way to seek out Chris again, nor did he you. That is, until you found yourself as the last of the new Everyday Idols cast to remain in the JYPE building. Anna had gone home early, having a migraine but already having finished up what she needed for the day. You finished the day out until the others left, staying back to talk on the phone with a friend. It was Sammie, one of the girls in the close-knit friend group with you and Anna. There were 6 of you who had become the best of friends during medical school. And although you had the closest reliance on Anna, the other girls were about as close to you as any people could be. You had all consistently cried together, stayed up all night together, and hyped each other up, not letting anyone quit for the past 2 years. The kind of mental toll that medical school puts on people is pure psychological torture, and you felt sure that none of you could have withstood it without having each other.

“Hi Sammie!!! How are you?!” You were so happy to see her name pop up…. No response. You heard a lot of background noise and looked down to see that instead, it had been a group call. You were on the line with Sammie and Anna, as well as your other 3 best friends. Sniffles was all you could distinctly hear. The light lit up around her name, showing that the noise was coming from her line.

“Sammie, are you okay?” You heard Anna ask reassuringly. There was worry in her voice. You could tell that Sammie was trying to muster up her voice, but nothing was coming out.

“Sammie, please tell us what’s going on. Is everything alright?” You questioned her. There was definitely worry now in your voice too, but how could there not be?

“Guys, I just got my score back. I didn’t pass,” Sammie cried into the phone. You felt your heart break. You had all just taken the first level of the USMLE, the first exam in the series for your medical degree. You all knew Sammie had been struggling. She had to move her test date back by a month. But when everyone else had gotten their passing results, you knew Sammie’s passing score would could back the following month. I guess it turns out that it didn’t. And you all knew what that meant. Your throat got caught. Dead silence…

“Oh Sammie, no. I’m so so sorry,” you whispered in a hushed voice, straining to get the words out. You felt water welling up in your eyes. You sat down on the floor, criss-crossed, ready to settle on the phone for a while and braced yourself for the rest of the conversation. Your back was propped up against the wall-length mirror, but your entire upper body slouched over so as to shield your face from the world. All you heard on the other line was sniffles… still.

Finally, your friend Nia broke the silence. “It’s okay buddy, we are still so proud of you. We all tried so hard. It will be okay. Things just have to get shifted back a bit is all. It will be okay, I promise.” You made a mental note of how Nia said ‘things just have to get shifted back a bit.’ We all knew what that meant. Sammie was automatically going to be put on probation now. She would also automatically not be allowed to continue on with the other third years… She would not be allowed to continue on with us. If she failed again, she would be kicked out of medical school entirely, any hope of becoming a doctor shot out the window.

You could hear a rustling noise coming through on Sammie’s line, and you knew it was the sound of her using the sleeves of her sweater to wipe away her tears. “No, I know. It will be okay. I’m just- I just-“ you could hear the stuffiness in her voice and how close she was to breaking. “I can’t lose you guys,” she choked out, letting out a low, slow cry once it had been said. That one got you. ‘I can’t lose you guys’ rang in your head. You lifted your head up and all the way back, taking in a deep breath and blinking slowly to try and halt any tears that were trying to escape. You needed to be strong. For Sammie. Let her know that it was okay- that we would be okay. Things would be different, but we would always be friends. Hushed cries and sniffles could be heard from the other lines, with your other friends intermittently offering up their words of comfort. Once the line had gone silent for a moment, everyone sat in solitude. Not a word uttered, not a falling tear heard. Even though you wanted to believe that nothing would change, that you could all continue on the same as you had been for the past 2 years, you knew the reality of it. You knew how brutal medical school was, and how wrapped up everyone HAS to be in their own life and at their own level if they have any chance of making it. You know this because your friend group of 6 started out as 9. People just simply did not make it. People failed out, got so far behind that they couldn’t catch up, struggled so badly with their mental health that they couldn’t continue foreward, you name it. With Sammie risking that, and definitely falling behind to the class behind you, there was no denying that things would not be the same. It’s an unspoken rule that you cannot say that though. It’s an unspoken rule that you have to be cheerful at a time like this. Tears were streaming down each of your cheeks thinking about having to move on without her and how her heart must be breaking to see all of her friends continuing, leaving her by herself..

“We’re never gonna leave you behind, okay?” you cried out, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your jacket. You would try your very best. She cannot be one more who doesn’t make it. Your heart wouldn’t be able to handle that. You felt so guilty. Tears of sorrow were now replaced with tears of guilt as you covered your mouth to try to muffle any noise coming out. This continued until you felt numb. Until everyone on the line felt numb.

After another minute, everyone had soothed themselves and were starting to offer more encouragement. A weight of emotional exhaustion could be felt over the phone. You each ended the call with how much you love each other, miss each other, and promised each other that nothing would change. Even though you knew it would. With one final sniff and wipe to your cheeks, you ended the call. It took just about everything in you to stand up from the floor and stabilize yourself. You stood there for a minute, just trying to look straight ahead and get your footing. You gathered your things and exited the practice room into a long hallway. You headed first to get a cup of water, all too aware of how dehydrated the crying had made you. Once you reached the machine in the break room, you swiftly but shakily grabbed a cup and pressed the button to let the water down. With your other hand, you cupped your forehead and leaned over onto the same side’s elbow, hoping to get some pressure on your head and to get some congestion out. You felt pitiful- looked pitiful too.

Inhale, hold… Exhale, hold… Inhale, hold… Exhale, hold…

“Long day?” You heard a familiar Aussie voice chuckle from behind you. You leaned up now that your cup was done filling and turned around to face Chris. He had been stood there, just gazing towards you with his hands tucked into the pockets of his black sweatpants. You figured that must have been his signature look- a black hoodie and black pants. Come to think of it, you didn’t recall ever seeing him in something else. The moment he saw your face, how puffy and red you looked, his expression completely changed. Did he look worried?

“Yeah a little bit,” you tried to say with a sheepish smile, but a small crack came out. It was okay enough. Holding firmly on your cup, you looked down, took a long drink of the water, then lowered your hand again to start your trek out of the building. As you stepped past Chris, your arm brushed the fabric of his hoodie.

“Y/n?” He questioned abruptly, making you turn halfway around at a slow speed. You popped your head to the side a bit and looked him in the eyes but couldn’t muster up the energy to verbalize a response. You stood there waiting for him to continue, still with a worried expression evident on his face. “Are you okay?” He stared a hole right through your eyes.

You weren’t. Not really. But you didn’t know Chris enough to dump any of that on him. He’s here late too; you were sure he was busy and had plenty of work to do. Even though you did like to vent and talk things out to relieve the stress of it, that wasn’t something to do with someone who doesn’t deeply know you. That will be an activity for you and Anna once you get to the hotel. With all the strength you had, you lifted your head up high to meet his gaze. You lightly bit your cheek and feverishly nodded your head up and down. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Shallow breath in and out. “Thanks though.” You offered another low smile and turned on your heels to leave.

“I’m serious, you know. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll be in my studio. I’ve been through this before too, yeah?” You heard him call out behind you as you walked. It made you hault and think on what he said. ‘I’ve been through this before too.’ … Oh, he thinks you’re upset over the training process- over the show and the practices you’re having to do and classes you’re having to take. You wanted to do well, yes, but you couldn’t care less about the outcome of the show. You didn’t want to be an idol- you probably wouldn’t even take the offer if it was given to you. ‘Not that it would be.’ But you had another calling, one that you loved and that you deeply cared about. One that made you feel like you made a difference in the world and could actually help people. Sammie had that calling too, or that same feeling at least. You weren’t sure if her chance was gone now.

“It’s not about the show or the training. I just- I’m sorry, I don’t think you’d understand,” you quietly muttered, only half turning back. The exhaustion and lack of emotion in your response was evident. You started making your way again toward the company building’s exit door.

“Try me,” you heard Chris call, sounding half stern but half playful.

You paused for a long moment, contemplating. You had to admit, it was a bit tempting. “Fine,” you gave in. You crossed your arms on your chest after you had turned your body around. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you’d been holding in and walked forward towards Chris. “Can we go to your studio?”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“It just feels like I keep losing the people that I care about. I feel so hopeless, like there’s nothing I can do to help them,” you were lightly crying, holding onto a pillow and looking down so as to shield your face. “And I know it’s ridiculous. And I know it’s not my responsibility to make sure that everyone makes it through. But that’s my friend, you know? And I know that she can do it, she just needed more time. When she pushed back her testing date I told her to call me if she needed any help… God, why didn’t she just call me? Why didn’t I call her? I knew she was struggling, but I didn’t bother to do anything… Didn’t do anything to help… I mean I know it’s not totally on me, but GOD I feel like I’m responsible. We always worked through everything together for studying. She was the reason I even made it through the first two years. And now it feels like I’m abandoning her and there’s nothing I can even do about it. Fuck, I just feel… I feel so guilty. So so guilty. And it’s like, if this happened to her, then when is it my time? Ya know? Like she is so smart. Smarter than me. I just, I don’t see how I can do this,” you kept rambling and rambling. Chris had led you a few doors down to his studio, where you both had plopped onto his grey leather couch. Each of your bodies were turned toward the other, one leg up on the couch, so close to touching one another’s knees. You didn’t mean to ramble on like this. Honestly, you knew you were emotional, but not to this point. Feelings and emotions came out that you didn’t even register you had yet. Guilt being a big one. Chris didn’t say anything while you were talking. He just sat patiently, nodding along to what you had to say. He looked into your eyes with such conviction as you confided in him, looking like he was trying to search for something there that he hadn’t yet found. Once he realized you were done with what you had to say, he took a breath in and began with his words.

“You know, I felt like that too before,” he said, scooting in slightly to bring his face closer to yours and lowering his voice. “It’s not so different, being a trainee and being in medical school. You kill yourself trying so hard each day, only to see the people you love not make it. It hurts. It hurts a lot.” He tried to ignore the fact that his voice was going in and out, plagued by a crack that he couldn’t stifle. His brow began to furrow as asense of seriousness came over him. “And it makes you turn cold, to want to hide away and recluse those emotions. Trust me, I get it. And I’m sorry you’re having to go through that. I’m sorry to your friend as well.” His eyes were big, something was in there- it looked like genuine hurt.

Tears were welling in your eyes. You broke eye contact with Chris to look up and over to the corner of the room. To look at anything else so you didn’t start letting tears stream again. You clicked your toungue, then ran it across your teeth before taking a gulp. Once you had calmed yourself to the point you didn’t think you would cry anymore, you looked back down to a sweetly, patiently waiting Chris, who still had just as much concern on his face. “What do I do? What did you do when you felt like this?”

You could see him almost smile in a way. Or blush maybe. His eyes lit up the teeniest bit. You could see it. There had been new look on his face. Was it endearment? Whatever it was, he must have liked when people asked him for his advice or trusted his judgement. The expression was fleeting, and he went back to his prior worried face. “There’s nothing you can do besides try to learn to be okay with it. I know that’s probably not an answer that helps very much, but there really isn’t much you can do to fix it, yeah? It will be okay.” You had looked down by this point, so Chris leaned down to meet your eye level, locking you in. He extended his right index and middle fingers to hold the bottom of your chin, slowly but delicately bringing your face back up to normal with his head following right along. He never broke eye contact. He started to whisper. “Hey, you’ve done nothing wrong. Sometimes things happen, things that we can’t change. And if we spend our whole lives worrying about those things, then we will never move on to what we are meant to do. I know it must be hard seeing your friend not move on with you. And I know how discouraging it feels to think that it’s just a matter of time before you’re next. But you have to keep your head up and keep going. You can still be a good friend. You can still be a supporter and a helper. You can still be a confidant. But you can’t forget that this is your dream too. And as harsh as it sounds, sometimes you’ve just got to do what you’ve got to do to stay alive… Whether that means push your feelings aside or not. You still have your other friends to go through this with, yeah? Let them be your rock, and you be theirs. I can’t promise you that you’ll all make it through together. But I can promise you that if everyone works hard enough, they will make it through… You will make it through.” You had a few stray tears rolling down your face with Chris’ words. Somewhat because of the situation, yes, but the words did help. They made you feel reassured. More than anything, they made you feel seen. Made you feel like someone understands the pain you felt, even if it was a bit ridiculous to be so worked up. A small smile crept up. You looked down, then back up at Chris with an approving nod.

“You’re right,” you took a deep breath out. Your hands reached for your eyes to wipe at them and then went right back down to your lap. The mood had quickly shifted in the room from something serious and uptight to calm and relaxed. “Thank you Chris, really. Even just letting me get everything out made me feel better, but I do really appreciate your advice. I really value the way that you think. Really. Thank you.”

Chris blushed. He reached for the back of his neck to hold it, feeling obviously shy. “Don’t say that,” he looked down, smiling. “It’s no problem.” He put his arm down and looked up. “You feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you,” you chuckled. You instinctively went in for a hug, which Chris reciprocated. The moment he locked his arms around your back, he felt so warm… so comforting. It was like his warm words had been personafied into an action, the everyday expression of a hug. Something about this moment just felt right. You leaned in even closer, deepening the hug. Chris picked up on your cues and gently reciprocated, pushing you closer into his chest as well. He started to rub your back, making contact with your hair and neck, ever so slightly. You let out a small sigh and melted in. You felt his breath hitch, his heart stopping for just one second while he seemed to tense up. Just for a split second though. He soothed down into your grasp as well and started to rock into the hug, rubbing larger circles onto your back. You stayed like that for a few more moments, just enjoying each other’s body heat and the calm silence that remained in the building since you were the only two left. You wished you could stay like that for the next hour, but then again, you knew if you didn’t pull away soon, things would start to feel awkward. You slowly started to pull your arms back and away from his back and waist, dragging your hands lightly along the black hoodie as you went. Chris matched your actions and untangled his limbs from around your body, pulling away from your side and upper back. It was slow. It was meaningful. You weren’t sure if it was intentional, but he continued to slowly drag his hands away until one was resting on your waist and the other on the opposing side of your neck between your ear and jaw. For just a split second, he held his position, then slowly pulled his hands completely off of you. He smiled but looked down while pulling his body back, from only inches away to now a couple of feet.

You returned the smile and looked down to your hands folded in your lap. “I appreciate you Chris. I really really do. I know you’re super busy, so it means a lot to me that you’d take the time to listen to me. Hopefully one day, I can return the favor.”

“I’ll never be too busy,” he said under his breath while still looking down, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it. “People like us, we’ve gotta stick together, yeah? The world is hard sometimes, but we can lean on each other to make it a bit easier… Plus, we’ve gotta stick it out so Berry and Bella can have some play dates the next time you come back,” he giggled and looked at you endearingly. Something about that comment made your heart swell. “You will come back, won’t you?” He raised his eyebrow and gave you and over-dramatic expression, like he was wanting to get a laugh out of you. This man lol.

“Of course I’ll come back. Our long-lost daughters will be dying to meet each other, I’m sure.” You cracked a smile. A genuine smile. “Plus, people like us have to stick together, remember?” You lightheartedly asked, mirroring what he had just told you.

“Yeah, yeah we do.” He smiled and looked straight into your eyes. You could have sworn he was closer now than he had been a few seconds ago. Or maybe you wanted him to be. You could have reached out, pulled him into another hug. It would have felt natural. Well, to you at least. You didn’t want to out-hug Chris for the night. Plus, I’m sure you were somewhat swayed by how handsome he is, which factored into it. You shifted your position back slightly.

“I better get out of here and get back to the hotel. Anna thought I was headed back like 30 minutes ago. I know she’s probably as stressed as me about everything going on,” you stood up off of the couch. Chris followed suit as you shuffled past him toward the door.

“Tell her what we talked about and hopefully it can calm her down some too.” Chris caught your waist with his hand as you went to open the door. “Do you want me to walk with you back to your hotel? It’s late, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything.” You turned to face him. What a cutie. He was probably just saying it to be nice. Also probably because you were still a distraught foreign woman about to wonder the streets alone after midnight. Still cute though.

“That’s okay. It’s the opposite direction from your apartment anyways, so I wouldn’t want to put you out that much.” You knew from meeting up with Changbin at their apartment that it would probably take around 30 minutes for him to get back to his place if he accompanied you to yours. Just seemed like a bit much at this time of night.

“I know, but I promise I don’t mind.” … Wait hold up. ‘I know?’ How did he know where your hotel was? You didn’t think you’d mentioned it. Old conversations started to scan through your mind, trying to think of any time you may have mentioned it to him. Nothing you could think of. Maybe you had drank too much the night everyone was together. Maybe a bunch of other Everyday Idol contestants were staying at the same place. Whatever, not a big deal.

“It’s okay Chris, really. But thank you. That’s very kind,” you smiled warmly at him. He took it openly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course!” He exclaimed, sounding a bit off. Almost… nervous? One more quick exchange of smiles and you were off. Once you had reached the cold air that hit you outside of the confines of the JYPE building, you silently thanked yourself for telling Chris you’d be alright on your own. You didn’t want him to see you with your teeth chattering, lips getting chapped, and nose about to run from the cold. The only thing that kept you thawed while on the trek back was thinking about Chris’ kindness. The fact that he even offered to walk you to your hotel made your cheeks heat up. Did he mean anything else by that? You were sure not. He’s just a good guy. But you couldn’t help but let your mind wander just a little bit. I wish he was my good guy. Maybe he could think that too?

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

And that is why, here you were, arguing with your best friend over whether or not you should respond to a message from Jeon Jungkook, of all people, wanting to see you. I mean, you weren’t blind. Jungkook was cute, yes. But having his first words to you be: “Heyyy there,” while smirking and definitely looking at your tits instead of your face, didn’t exactly make you want to see him again. How could that even be an option when you could only think about Chris? Sweet, sweet Chris.

“Okay, so he was a little bit of an asshole,” Anna started. “But you literally only talked to him for like 2 minutes. How do you know he’s really like that? What if he was just putting up a front trying to seem cool? Obviously he’s interested in you, I mean he Instagram messaged you for God’s sake. I’d bet he was just nervous and didn’t know how to act around you. I think you should give him another chance.” You pondered this for a second. Jungkook was weird around you for sure. But knowing what you now knew, you guessed it could be from putting up a front with you. You guessed that could be a possibility. The more you thought about it, the more you thought Anna’s points were valid. What about Chris though?

“I guess you have a point,” you gave in. Anna looked at you with a smirk and an “I-told-you-so” expression. “But even if that was the case, I don’t… I’m stuck.” You leaned down closer to the table and lowered your voice even more, as if it were possible. “I think I have a little crush on Chris.”

“It’s about fucking time you said it!” Anna laughed, her voice growing louder. “I just knew you and Chris had something there since the night we all met for drinks. Ahhhh my bestie has a little crush!!!” She reached out to grab your cheeks. You turned red and swatted her hands away, pulling them down onto the table, bringing the rest of your body with her.

“Keep it down,” you scolded her. “It’s a one-sided thing. I don’t want anyone to know please, it’s low-key mortifying,” you scoffed while saying it, looking around the room to see if Anna’s wonderfully “robust” voice had grabbed the attention of some wondering ears. You didn’t see anything. “But even if it is one sided, I don’t want to ruin my chance before I even get one. Jungkook and Chris are friends. Surely, he’d find out.”

“Okay… So let him.”

“Huh?” You questioned, not sure what she was getting at.

“Let Chris get jealous.” She was being so serious. “It’s not like Chris has tried to make any kind of move on you since you’ve seen him. And neither have you. I mean you literally saw him the other day when you met JK and he said absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. In my book, JK is at least trying. Just go for it. See what happens.” You contemplated her words. “Maybe Chris will get jealous and confess his love to you,” she said taunting, opening her eyes really big to tease you. “Or maybe… maybe you’ll find out Jungkook is actually a pretty cool guy… And a guy who’s really into you and willing to make a move at that.” Damn, she is really coming through with some good points today.

“I’ll think about it,” you smiled back. You looked down to check the message again, only to realize what time it was. You both needed to get going to a meeting. You motioned down for Anna to look at the time.

“Come on, we better go.” You both stood up and turned to walk toward the exit. You passed by Felix’s table on the way through and looked over to give him a smile and wave, so as to say goodbye. Instead of the usual wave back, he just looked at you and smiled, brows raised high on his face, almost teasingly. He gave you the expression of knowing something that he shouldn’t. Or maybe HEARING something that he shouldn’t. OH SHIT. Your eyes shifted to Anna, wide as they’d ever been; however, she didn’t seem to notice and walked along without a care in the world. Your eyes darted back to Felix for a split second, hoping he’d looked away and you were misreading things. Surely you were just paranoid. His eyes met yours, still with the same gleefull smile. He let out a small chuckle, held the eye contact for one more second, and looked down at his phone, suddenly typing away. FUCK.

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✨Continue to ➡️ Chapter 2

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[mediumgayitalian]

previous chapter

———

“Take the exit here.”

“How come?” Nico asks, dutifully putting on his blinker and merging into the right lane. “We’re not even at half tank.”

Will clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s, uh, not for gas.”

A pause.

“Oh, Solace, you’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m sorry!”

Nico throws his hands up, ignoring Will’s screech of both hands on the wheel, I value my life! “There is no possible way you have to piss already. You had half a slushie!”

“...Well.”

“William Andrew Solace, I swear to God.”

“I got distracted!” Will cries, eyes big and round as he pouts. “The Abstract Iron Centaur is a monument, okay, I forgot what the point of the rest stop was for.”

Nico groans. “I’m not sure you should be allowed to go to medical school. You’re going to forget a scalpel in someone’s lungs, or something.”

Immediately, he knows this is the wrong thing to say. The sheepish grin vanishes off Will’s face, replaced with something despairing, before it’s hastily shoved back on.

The winding road finally gives way to the advertised rest stop, partially obscured by a Welcome to Georgia sign with a modernist-style image of a peach that annoys him for no reason. We’re glad Georgia’s on your mind. (False. Georgia is never on his mind, except for how Will can’t say Georgia without slipping into his accent and Nico has to take that golden opportunity to mock him. And then die.)

“Right,” Will says finally. He forces a laugh. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, then gets out of the car without so much as a word.

Nico watches him go. 

“Well,” he mutters to himself. “Shit.”

He waits in the car as long as he physically can, which is anything between thirty seconds and four business days. A glance at his watch informs him it’s closer to two minutes. 

He kicks a stone across the parking lot, debating the implications of searching for his friend. It hasn’t really been that long, so he’s not sure it’s socially appropriate, and then he wonders when the hell he started caring about being socially appropriate. They are friends, after all, because in a group icebreaker question about siblings in seventh grade, Nico had growled none, on the account that she was killed by a drunk driver when I was ten and Will had laughed, brightly and morbidly, and said hey, my brothers were murdered, too! Twinsies! and killed the vibe rather brilliantly for literally everybody else in the room. 

He gives into his impulse eventually, striding onto the surprisingly soft grass and looking, halfheartedly, around the spacious grounds (he’d decided searching the bathroom would be a touch too far). His mission gets sidetracked, however, because the heat is less oppressive under the shade of tall, weeping willows, and there’s a small breeze, and he is struggling to shove his various musings into the Repression Box where they belong. 

Will, starts one of said musings, has been acting weird as shit long before he showed up at his house in the middle of the night.

It had started around January? If he had to guess. But Will is always kind of weird in the winter, so he hadn’t thought much of it, just offered to break into his house more often so he didn’t feel too suffocated. The usual. But the strangeness had persisted through the spring – the sudden drops in mood, the hair-triggers to clam him up. Both of which are usually a Nico thing. Will, more often, just shoves all his negative emotions down to the bottom of his soul until he gets one half-mark wrong on a test and sobs himself sick about being useless while Nico stands guard outside the bathroom door, agonised, unsure how to help. And then the two of them never talk about it again. 

Over the last few months, things have been a little less balanced. 

“Hey.”

Nico jumps. Will stands slightly, shoulders still hunched slightly, but definitely less cagey than earlier. He holds out a cup of coffee Nico recognises as from a vending machine.

“Hi,” Nico says softly, smiling tentatively. He takes the coffee. It’s black, and too hot, just how he likes it.

“You are going to stain your teeth,” Will observes, as he always does.

“Bite me,” Nico responds, following the script.

A genuine smile pulls at his face.

“You ready to get back on the road?”

“Yep.”

They fall into step in their hike back to the Jeep – Nico hiked farther than he meant to. Will’s flip-flops slapping rhythmically against the packed dirt of the trail is a familiar sound, and it eases some of his own tension, putting a bit more prep in his step. When he glances quickly over, Will is breathing normally, shoulders slack, much calmer expression on his face.

“You should let me drive,” he says as they approach. “You’ve been behind the wheel since practically dawn; maybe you should take a nap or something.”

Nico shakes his head, waving a dismissive arm. Frowning slightly, Will acquiesces, climbing back into the passenger side.

“I’ve had two coffees and half a slushie,” he explains, resting his hand on the back of Will’s seat. He cranes his neck behind him, careful of the family walking an unleashed dog as he pulls out. “I’m good forever.”

“Caffeine doesn’t work on you,” Will points out.

Nico pauses. 

“...True.”

He hadn’t realise Will had noticed, actually. Although he supposes it’s not too surprising – Will has known him a long time, Will is observant, and Will generally enjoys lecturing people about anything he can get away with, up to and including their general health and safety. Nico, in all his bad choices, is a favourite target of his. He can probably recite his solo midnight speed driving from memory.

“It’s just –” Will stops, waiting until Nico’s safely merged back on the highway before continuing. “It’s three and a half hours ‘till we get to Atlanta, Neeks, and it’s already three-thirty. We’ll have to stop again for food, probably, at one point, and we’ll have to stop for food, soon, and who knows what the traffic will be like –”

Carefully passing the person going sixty in front of him, finally breaking into open road, Nico takes half an eye off the road and digs through the centre console.

“– I mean, if it’s bumper to bumper, then what? It’ll be rush hour soon, shit, I shoulda planned for that, shit, do we have a jerrycan? We should have a jerrycan, remind me to get a jerrycan for the trunk –”

Finally catching sight of the CD he’s looking for (and barely managing to swerve and avoid a massive pothole that would have for sure cut their trip short, but he managed, so take that, Reckless Driving Lecture Will that lives in his brain, who’s God now), he hands it to Will. Still actively stressing about literally nothing, he opens it, polishing the disc on habit and sliding it into the slot without so much as pausing. 

Nico smirks. 

Yeah, maybe he knows his friend, too.

“– I mean, just blankets and a first aid kit is not enough. Really, we should have some provisions in there. Oh, and rope, ‘cause what if we get stranded in the mountains –”

The radio clicks as it reads the disc, then, suddenly and without warning, the stereo rumbles with heavy bass and pounding beat.

Will cuts himself off. “Hey, is this –”

Nico smirks wider. He chances another look away from the road, just in time to watch a magnificent smile break across Will’s face, wide and a little crooked, showing all his molars – a real one, the one he gets when he’s caught off-guard, the one that makes his hands fluttery.

“You’re playing In The Zone!” he exclaims, laughing delightedly. “Without complaining!”

Bingo, Nico thinks. 

“Technically, I didn’t play shit.” He gestures at the empty CD case in Will’s hand. “You’re just like a hermit crab. I hand you things, you hold them.”

“Shut up.” But there’s no bite to the command, smile still stretching wide. If Nico looks, he can see the tiny snag of his barely crooked front tooth, but he doesn’t look, because he doesn’t care about that, obviously. He has his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel, fully focused.

Obviously. 

They do get into disgusting traffic. Will is distressed about it, up until someone cuts them off so closely they both nearly actually and genuinely die, and he is immediately lit up in a rage so incandescent Nico wonders if he will ever be able to look away from straining biceps and a clenched jaw ever again. More distantly, he wonders if and I hope you get three consecutive aneurysms and your family leaves you to fucking rot in a hospital bed, you leprous shitdick will be on loop in his head for the rest of time. He kind of wants to put it on a shirt. Will’s linguistic talents should be studied. 

“Stop thinking about it,” Will demands, socking him (hard! What the shit!) in the shoulder. His face resembles, quite exactly, the shade of the setting sun. “Purge it from your memory.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Nico responds, smirking.

“I wasn’t –” A pause. Nico bites back a snort. “Cutting people off is just so rude.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I mean! I mean.”

“Indeed.”

“If it was – an ambulance, or something, I would understand, but he cut us off just to get immediately stuck in the same traffic! I don’t understand the point!”

“Truly the behaviour of a leprous shitdick,” Nico agrees. His grin starts to genuinely hurt his face, but he ignores it in favour of snickering.

Will sinks into his seat, pulling his hoodie over his eyes. His ears, as usual, stick out a little, and they’re red, too. Nico nobly resists the urge to flick them. 

“I hate you.”

“I think you’re quite attached to me, actually. After all, I’m not a –”

“If I hear the word leprous come from your mouth one more fucking time, di Angelo, I’ll give you leprosy. For real. I’ll find it.”

Will probably could find a vial of pure leprosy somewhere, actually, so Nico shuts up. (He’s seen Will’s weird vial collection. Most of it is just, like, various bacteria, he’s pretty sure, but Will is kind of morbid and Nico knows his sense of humour is garbage because Nico’s sense of humour is garbage, and there is a reason they’re friends, and if Nico found a vial of leprosy somewhere he would keep it, too. Can leprosy be vialed? Who knows. Will, probably.)

Once he’s sure Nico is not going to tease him anymore about his temper tantrum, or at least for the moment, he turns back to his book. Every so often, he looks up, observes the three miles per hour they’re crawling, and sighs, loudly and lengthy to himself, muttering something about railway systems and zoning laws and government incompetence. Nico doesn’t ask. He was free from the jail that was history and geography lessons last month. He is determined to learn absolutely nothing for the next six months, at least. 

“I’m paying for the motel or hotel or inn et cetera,” Will says, randomly. 

“No,” Nico replies, easily. 

Will reaches out, calmly, and pinches him on the thigh. Nico does not yelp indignantly because he is a Man, and can handle Will’s weirdly pointy fingers.

“You paid for gas.”

“Yep.”

“And you have car payments.”

“Mhm.”

“And you bought Dunkin’s.”

“True.”

“Nico,” Will says exasperatedly, “this whole damn trip was my idea. Let me pay for shit.”

“I enjoy wasting my father’s money,” Nico counters, and Will pauses, considering. “Come on, commie. I know the idea of spending a banker’s money on stupid shit pleases you.”

He knows he’s starting to win, because Will sighs in a very particular way that Nico has identified as why am I letting this dumbass get away with this again, says, “Spending money is capitalist, Nico,” and turns, begrudgingly, back to his book.

Poorly hidden behind the pages, he’s smiling.

Nico tallies his victory.

The traffic finally eases by around eight o’clock. Victorious, surely, except that they’re still quite a ways from Atlanta. He considers getting off at one of the various exits promising shelter, and in fact decides he is going to, but for some reason, his hand never drifts to his blinker. Never turns the wheel slightly to merge, never eases off the gas. He keeps going, an going, and going, music playing softly, stars beginning to shine through the darkening sky.

Beside him, Will lets out tiny puffs as he exhales, even and sluggish.

“You are a grandmother,” he whispers fondly, shaking his head. In the quiet of the road, interrupted only by the whipping whipping winds – he should have pulled the roof back up when they were stuck, shit – and odd flash of headlights of a passing car, he lets himself soften, sighing back against his seat and easing up slightly on the gas.

Will glows, faintly, in the moonlight.

It’s funny, ‘cause he’s a sun child. Nico has teased him about it for years, in fact; his hair, his bright blue eyes, his stubborn clinging to his aesthetic of wannabe surfer boy. The gold ring he wears on his thumb, the sun pendant that rests on his heart. Swathed in yellows and blues and golds, all the time, with a sprinkling of bright green and neon orange just to remind everyone that yes, he is red green colourblind, and no, that will not stop him from making fashion choices. 

But the silver suits him. It softens him, instead of washing him out, reminding Nico that the sun shines white. The low light casts gentle shadows on his face, too, drawing attention to his strong brow and straight nose. 

Forcing his eyes back on the road, where they should have been the whole time, Jesus, he notices the giant green Downtown Atlanta sign, and follows its arrows. The first exit he sees, he turns, getting lost three times before he finds the hotel that was advertised.

Pulling into the largely empty parking lot, he shuts off the car, then turns to Will, screwing up his face. He has to wake him up, at some point. Obviously. Unfortunately he cannot simply melt into the shadows and reappear in a hotel room. As awesome as that would be, with his luck, he’d pop into an occupied one, and that’d be a whole host of problems. 

Deciding he’ll actually get them a room first, he heads inside, speaking quietly with the desk host.

“Single or double?” they ask pleasantly, voice similarly lowered for the hour.

“Uh,” Nico says, “double?”

The host pauses, eyebrows flicking up at his hesitation. “...Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nico flushes. He adds, belatedly, “Please.”

Eyebrow raised in amusement, the host reaches into a drawer and pulls out two sleek key cards, tucking them into a little envelope thing and handing them over. “Room 409,” they say, nodding towards the elevator. 

“Thanks,” Nico responds, and walks out the door. He realises, as he exits, how much of a general failure he is at communicating with people who are not Will, and considers climbing through the window of his sixth floor room out of sheer embarrassment. The realization that he does not have the skill to drag Will up there with him is the only thing that stops him.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, once he’s gathered their bags and some of the red has faded from his face, “we’re here.”

Will hums a little, voice gravelly. Nico’s lip quirk up.

“Where?”

“Somewhere to sleep.”

“‘M sleepin’ jus’ fine.”

His accent is so, so heavy with sleep, and it’s just – God, he wishes Wil hadn’t trained himself out of it. In Nico’s professional opinion, Will should talk like that all the time.

Authenticity, and all that.

“C’mon, Will.”

After another minute of coaxing – which Nico indulges purely because he knows for a fact Solace will have no memory of it in the morning, in any other circumstance he’d poke him awake – Will uncurls enough to stagger to his feet, stumbling as he gets out of the vehicle. For his own safety, Nico wraps an arm around his narrow hips, guiding him up to the room. 

“Mnhgh,” he mumbles, the second the heavy door closes behind them. He walks two steps to the nearest bed, face plants in the middle of it, and starts snoring, feet hanging off the end, one flip-flip still stubbornly clinging to his foot.

“Dork,” Nico murmurs. He gets ready like a normal person, tugging on a sleep shirt – might be an old one of Will’s, actually, because Nico certainly never bought a Shania Twain concert t-shirt – and wrapping up in the wonderfully plush blankets. “Goodnight, Will.”

He gets a snore in response. He burrows deeper into the covers, smiling, drifting off to the sound of his best friend’s rhythmic breathing.

———

next chapter

[orangez3st]

Dream Currents

Captain Rex × OFC Force Goddess

— Chapter 4: Primordial

Tags: teen & up, f/m, gen, hurt/comfort, childhood friends, romantic friendship, fluff, pre-star wars: the clone wars, clone cadets (training in kamino), very rex-centric, rex whump, the worst is probably sw curse words (tell me if I should add more tags!)

[Content] [Start] [Prev] [Next] [AO3] [Spotify]

“Identify yourself for the records, cadet.”

“Designation number; CC-1010.”

“Have you had a nickname for yourself?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Very well.” Nala Se, a datapad in hand, takes a few steps back in the pristine white chamber. Putting CC-1010 under a few more seconds of scrutiny, the cloning facility’s Chief Medical Officer later initiates the questioning. “Regarding the most recent uproar among your peers, I believe you have known of the latest strange phenomenon where every single clone in this facility had the very same dream when they slept just last night?”

Ten nods firmly, once. “I do, ma’am.”

“Tell us about yours.”

Ten almost scoffs at the open-ended directness. Probably won’t even last five minutes in here at all. Recomposing himself, he goes over what he’s practiced inside his head while waiting for his turn. “It was dark. In the middle of a night, I assume,” begins Ten, settling just enough on his parade rest position. “I was on a surface ship. Small, modest, appeared to be made out of some wood. On it, I was in the middle of the ocean. It was raining, too. Loud winds, howling. The waves were raging. I realized the surface ship was tied by its bow to a, a rocky outcrop, in the middle of the ocean.”

“And?” prompts Nala Se, “What happened then?”

“Lightning flashed,” Ten supplies, “I saw a figure on top of the rocks, standing over me.”

“Can you identify what they look like?”

Ten nods. “I identified it as a mature female humanoid figure. She was wearing white. Long, dark hair, blowing in the harsh wind and weather.”

“And? Was this female human looking at you?”

With these kinds of questions I doubt she’s even gathering for more data. More like lining mine up with the others’ accounts now, Ten concludes.

“I couldn’t tell, ma’am. The rain made it hard to take a look. Despite that, I remember the dream as clear as day. I assume she was looking out behind me.”

“What was behind you?”

“The raging ocean.”

“Did the female human say something to you?”

Called it. He almost smirks at his own deduction. “Yes, she did.”

“What did she say?”

The images subtly make a return to the forefront of his mind. Dark, billowing wind and harsh weather. He can even remember the piercing chill – the fatigues he was wearing were soaked to the bone. The ship, however… Tied to a piece of the rock outcrop. He never guesses the meaning behind his dreams, but if he’s being so kind about this one, he might dare to assume that he was tied to the female figure himself. Ten recalls his feelings in that dream – no fear, no sense of sheltered in safety, just pure wonder, especially when the figure said…

“’I am the primordial ocean’.” Ten remembers the voice so powerful it carried something he couldn’t quite place as it was heard among the violent weather and waves. Evenly-voiced, he quickly follows up, “Then I woke up to alarm.”

Ten tries his best not to scowl. As much as he’s more than willing to be helpful to the longnecks’ research, he wouldn’t stand for another minute with one of them in the same room.

And, well, he’s still got another card up his sleeve for that…

“Very well.” Nala Se taps about her datapad. “You’re dismissed, CC-1010.”

“If I may, ma’am,” he interrupts, “I would like to suggest looking into the account of CT-7567 as well.”

By her countenance and posture change Ten can see that the longneck doctor is definitely, outrageously caught off-guard. Once again he’s nearly, wickedly grinning at his success.

“Is there a reason for your suggestion?”

Ten subtly clears his throat. “We were having our firstmeal, and one of my peers brought up this dream. Six-Se– I mean, CT-7567 was a little quieter and a little too nonchalant to share his part, while the others seemed to be enthusiastic.” He resists the urge to shrug. “Just a small suggestion to aid your progress. Ma’am.”

It takes several seconds of consideration that he can see there’s practically conflict in her stuck-up, nose-slit of a face. Probably something about disobedience or speaking out of turn and all that bantha poodoo. Ten sucks in his lips to prevent a scoff threatening to slip out.

“It has been duly noted, cadet.” It disappoints him immediately as Nala Se decides to throw him out – and makes him grateful. “Dismissed.”

[Content] [Start] [Prev] [Next] [AO3] [Spotify]

Word Count: 742

[aspengenic]

I think is interesting how in one video Noelle explains that they're a subsystem, the one on internet is a subsystem

I don't know if they're the general host subsystem or if they're just fronting for internet, but either way the rest of their system outside their subsystem must know about what Aspen and Noelle are doing and how it's harming, forget about all the people who she harms because it's obvious she doesn't care about them, but the main system should know that what Aspen and Noelle (Just mentioning them because they're the most active on socials) are doing is harming them

Aspen doesn't need the internet break, all The Entourage subsystem need a break from socials because they're doing themselves more harm than anything and they should acknowledge that

When I heard they're a subsystem I really felt bad for their main system, I know Aspen's and Noelle's actions are pretty shitty, but their immaturity is harming them so bad that they don't even see it and that might be a problem in their recovery process

Idk I'm just rambling

Also I'm sorry all this cowards were reaching you in anon to defend Aspen and demonstrate they don't even understand for what this blog's about

From what I've heard, the Entourage Subsystem is likeee... the one that handles social media altogether? Or maybe I'm misremembering, so correct me if I'm wrong. Part of me wonders if they log out of their socials if - and when - they feel someone else outside of the subsystem around. Maybe the rest of the system genuinely doesn't know about it. I think if I recall correctly, they mentioned that littles are usually fronting if it's not the subsystem, but again! correct me if I'm wrong.

I do also feel bad for the rest of the system and maybe through therapy, amnesia barriers will be removed more and the rest of the system will be able to do something about it.

I definitely agree the subsystem as a whole needs the break though, like. I've said it before and I still stand by it, Noelle isn't any better, and neither is Exploit. They have a loooottttt of healing they need to do. It is nice seeing they're not as bad as they were before being put on medication, and I do get that Aspen is extremely self destructive, but that should be all the more reason to keep them offline, and they're still causing harm whether or not they're on meds - it's just not as bad.

I can acknowledge there has been some growth there, but it feels like they take one step forward and two steps back and they have not taken accountability for anything even still. They definitely need a break from social media.

As for the anons, it really didn't bother me that much. However, I do actually have generalized anxiety disorder and the constant flood I was getting wasss... yeah. Overall it was something I was genuinely laughing about, but I know how it can impact my mental health and I'd rather nip that in the bud before my mental health does a decline. For as long as I've had this blog, I haven't gotten any anon hate that I can recall and today it was like the floodgates opened. I was doing my second job today (which is from home, so it wasn't impacting me in a physical workplace) and it was not something I expected at all.

Unfortunately I will have people that disagree, a lot of new fans that are probably very young and vulnerable to manipulation and genuinely just don't know about everything they've done collectively, and will send hate to this blog. That should've been a given and something I should've been more mentally prepared for. I definitely have a hard time ignoring anon hate or passive aggressive comments and that's something I need to work on in general, to just not give them the time of day and delete/block.

But it can also be the other way around. If you don't like what this blog is for or about, the block button is free, it's very easily accessible. You can just block and move on. /nay

I do find it a bit interesting that their mods know about the blog, and part of me wonders what the mods think about it. I've heard stories from ex mods of theirs coming out with how they were treated by Aspen and co, and part of me hopes these mods aren't treated the same way as past mods have been. I hope Aspen and co are also listening to their current mods if/when they give her any constructive criticism.

[threehuskiesinatrenchcoat]

!!!!! HI !!!!!

You‘ve seen the beginning of this and I hope you‘ve forgotten about it so u can read it again now!

This time I tried my hand at angst? Kinda? Also this is sort of inspired by the cyberpunk au but also knowing nothing about cyberpunk won’t hinder anyone from having a cry /hj jk i don’t think i‘ll actually make anyone cry with this but rest assured i‘m trying

Maybe one day I‘ll know enough computer jargon to make an actual cyberpunk au lmao

It’s also a lot of words? Like 2000<, which is not as much as the transformer au but definitely more than usual

Anyways, this is not a birthday gift bc it’s not your birthday why did i even clarify that so enjoy!

It took a lot of maneuvering to pull Graves’ heavily burned body out of the wreck. His limp form was a pitiful sight, skin either an angry red or dusty grey depending on where the fire and where the ash had gotten to him. Some of his implants had survived the explosion, others dug into his flesh, half molten and irreparable. Alejandro wondered how willing the Brits would be in actually hearing Graves out should he survive - and the colonel was sure he’d make it. It’s what he always did: endure and conquer. A picture of the other’s self-assured grin flashed in his mind. Alejandro sighed heavily, dark eyes cataloguing the most life-threatening injuries as the unconscious man got carried towards the base. The sun was close to setting, making everything glow in an orange light as if aflame once more.

While he watched his men leave with their cargo and thoughts about the future started to creep into his head. What would happen to Graves? Los Vaqueros would follow his command. If he wanted him to get treatment, they’d give it to him. The Brits, though? They might argue whose custody he was under, so to say. Seeing as they had worked with Sheppard more closely and were actively hunting him, they might want to get the info first, stabilize him second. Alejandro knew he was letting his own bias blind him, but Graves should get a fighting chance, a chance to make things right.

They’d need to check his chip at the very least, anyways; make sure his brain wouldn’t immediately shut down once they tried to wake him up. Until they came back, Alejandro would make sure the former commander survived. Besides his obvious use, the Mexican wasn’t able to rid himself completely of the fondness he held for the other man and probably never would. Taking a deep breath, he collected himself. There was no time to worry about something he couldn’t change right now. Los Vaqueros needed him; las Almas needed him. It was time to take care of his responsibilities. With one last glance towards the medical wing, he steeled himself and went to find Rodolfo. They had a lot to discuss.

He was a doll. Graves was a doll. The news didn’t really want to register in his mind, but there it was, black on white. He had a chip and everything. It had gotten activated recently, very recently. The pad’s screen started flickering as Alejandro applied more and more pressure, unable to handle his anger any other way. Luckily, his second in command took it from him with an order to calm down before they’d discuss it. The colonel left wordlessly and did just that.

Multiple destroyed test dummies and equipment later, he returned. Their conversation didn’t last long, everyone present knowing just what those chips did, having seen them in action at a few cartel raids already. The general consensus was that Graves was innocent, the Brits reluctantly agreeing as well when being told of the newly discovered circumstances. His state was still unstable, but he wouldn’t be held accountable for everything he had done while not being himself once he woke up. The scope of his involvement would have to get sorted out first, of course, and Alejandro hoped it to be minimal.

The walkie talkie hanging from his hip cackled to life. It was Graves, he had woken up. After alerting Rudy, giving him a short explanation and requesting his presence in the medical area as well, he found himself standing in front of the American’s assigned room. He took a deep breath to calm himself, his breathing almost echoing in the quiet and empty hallway only broken up by faint beeping sounds and medical equipment standing to the side. Reaching out, he slowly pushed down on the cold door handle and stepped in.

He looked so small and vulnerable, skin pale and face gaunt. Alejandro slowly got closer, eyes transfixed on the figure getting swallowed by the stark white bedding. Coming to a stop at about stomach height, he almost didn’t dare to take a proper look at the other’s face. Graves’ lower body was completely covered by the blanket, but what was visible of his upper body looked painful. His stomach had been blown open and sewn shut again, his right arm had to be removed completely and his left one was missing the blade. Wires had been bundled together and secured to the remaining arm, probably so they wouldn’t snag on something should he move. The Mexican didn’t want to imagine how much agony he must be in; or would be if he wasn’t high on painkillers. The drip bag connected to Graves only half full, having hung there for a while already.

Something moved in his periphery and his eyes snapped upwards to where Graves was staring at him. The other blinked again and his breath hitched. Alejandro just stared back, now faced with what he’d been avoiding for the past few weeks. The American’s empty stare, dull in unrecognition, but still so very blue, moved slowly towards the door when Rudy stepped in. He seemed to barely notice movement; his reaction seemingly more instinct than willful action. Alejandro wondered how long he’d have to stand still for Graves to think of him as part of the room.

Rodolfo’s gaze swept the room before landing on the colonel, but Alejandro didn’t dare take his eyes off the man lying in front of them, scared he’d miss when he’d pass out and look no better than a corpse again. “How is he?” Rudy obviously tried to talk as soft as possible, but Graves still flinched. Something like fear flickered in his eyes. It was to be expected, seeing as the other man had taken part in taking him down and who knew how damaged the chip had gotten during the explosion.

Alejandro tried matching the other’s tone, already dreading the injured man’s reaction. “He hasn’t talked yet, but I’ve only been here a couple minutes.” In his periphery, he saw Rodolfo nodding in understanding, but his focus was on Graves, Phillip, who’s gaze was resting on him again. Brows furrowed and frowning slightly, he looked as if he was concentrating, His remaining hand spasmed and Alejandro slowly reached for it. The American’s arm was light, missing a good chunk of it, but when he gently squeezed his hand, it felt as if the other was trying to reciprocate it.

His heart fluttered with hope. Maybe they’d be able to talk to him soon; make him understand that he was safe. It must’ve shown on his face, because after a moment of quiet, Rodolfo patted his shoulder and left the room with a soft “Don’t stay too long, Ale.” He nodded, not taking his eyes from Graves’, imagining, hoping the spark in them was recognition.

Phillip’s condition wasn’t improving. The doctors were at a loss, calling his survival a miracle already and deeming him a lost cause. Every time he woke up, the most he did was track people’s movement with his eyes and occasionally twitch when one of the loose wires in his enhancements caught a spark. Alejandro tried visiting him as often as possible, until Rodolfo stepped in and practically dragged him out of the room, scolding him. He knew it wouldn’t get better, almost two months of no change proved that. Graves’ brain basically short-circuited, at least that’s how others had tried explaining it to him. Even his breathing wasn’t completely automated anymore, sometimes just stopping without rhyme or reason and having to be supplemented with a machine hooked up to his respiratory system. Day after day, Alejandro’s hope grew more and more cold, into a black hole at the center of his heart. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it go, but it was eating him up from the inside.

“They’re here. Vamos, let’s not keep them waiting.” Alejandro nodded and rose from his seat. Graves’ eyes were on him in an instant. It hurt, seeing him like this, but after Rudy’s intervention, he tried concentrating on his work more. It proved futile, so he took his work to the place his thoughts were circling around anyway. It might be a bit of a hassle to walk the extra distance between his office and the medical wing, but he got his work done and that was the important bit. He put any sensitive documents away, before walking towards the yard.

The Brits came for a visit. Everyone knew the reason for it was laying unresponsive in a medical bed, but they’d claimed to have a plan; not necessarily to get him to talk, but to get the information they needed. Alejandro didn’t like the sound of that. His suspicions turned out to be justified when 141 explained their brilliant plan was to reactivate the chip. The ensuing discussion and subsequent dismissal of Alejandro’s arguments against the method were a given. It might’ve ended differently if Graves had been lucid and recovering, but his current state just encouraged the others in their decision. “He won’t feel a thing, colonel, calm down. At this point he’s as good as dead, anyways.”

Alejandro insisted on being present during the procedure. He watched as they transferred his body onto the operation table, strapping him in. It was expected he might wake up and have the chip take control again. That thought alone made the Mexican’s hairs stand on end. Having Graves finally awake, not as himself, but an imposter, a mere puppet for Sheppard; it stung. Once they started hooking him up to the cables, that was when Alejandro began to have his doubts. He hadn’t wanted this for Graves; hadn’t from the very beginning, but now he started to realize; it was really going to happen. He took a shaky breath. Rodolfo noticed and put a calming hand on his shoulder. It didn’t help as much as he needed it to.

The room’s white walls, floor, lights, white everything didn’t let Graves look any healthier, his skin almost blending in with its surroundings. The whirring of the machines grew louder, the computer running its programs to access the chip. Alejandro saw the diagnostics popping up on the displays, even as digitally inept as he was, it was clear those numbers weren’t good. Graves’s heartbeat picked up significantly as one of the monitors flickered to life, showing Shepard’s face on a computer screen. It was too quiet for Alejandro to make out the words spoken, but he monitors view flicked to the side momentarily, showing the inside of a moving vehicle and the prairie running past the window, before lowering again towards Shepard. The plan was working, they were seeing Graves’ memories.

It took only a moment for everything to go sideways. The man strapped to the operation table started twitching violently, straining against the belts holding him down. Then, the screaming began. Alejandro had heard a lot of screams in his career; People being tortured by the cartel, people he had to get information from himself, dying people in the street, or their loved ones mourning the corpses, but this scream was one of the worst ones. Had someone told him Graves was getting stripped of his skin and doused in acid, he would’ve believed it. He thrashed stronger with each passing minute, throwing his head from side to side. Alejandro hadn’t even noticed himself moving, but one minute he was behind a glass wall, the next he stood next to Phillip, trying to hold him down. Soothing words were useless with how loud the other was yelling, but it didn’t stop him from murmuring them anyways.

From one moment to the next, Graves went quiet. The doctors present wasted no time securing the belts, tying the American down tighter and assessing the damage. Alejandro simply stared back into the other’s eyes that had settled on him with a horror-stricken expression. He didn’t know what to do. Graves looked so scared, his mouth opening and closing multiple times before settling back into a frown. Alejandro tried smiling at him as calmly as he could, sort of failing, but he didn’t care how weird his face looked, because it got Phillip to react.

The American whined pitifully, that’s all you could really call it. It sounded like the precursor to a truly horrible crying session, but not so much as a single tear left Graves’ eyes. They looked more grey than blue in the harsh operation table lighting and Alejandro couldn’t help but wish to see them in the sun if only for a moment. “A’jandro” Even just his name sounded painful to say and the Mexican put his hand over the other’s bound one.

“Save your energy. You need to recover, not talk. Please, Phillip, just get better.” He looked truly pitiful, staring up at him from that table with pale skin and a desperation in his eyes, one could think he was dying. Graves shook his head slowly, gaze never leaving Alejandro. Lips pressed together; he began tearing up, tears rolling down his cheek. The Mexican wiped them away, startled by how cold his skin was. The other man opened his mouth again, but only a painful wheeze left it as his gaze grew distant, unfocused eyes wandering to the side. “Hey, no, don’t leave again, you need to stay, don’t leave me, Phillip.” But his pleas fell on deaf ears, as he looked around, searching for something to help, anything to bring him back. The consistent peeping tone finally registered in his mind.

HJKGSDFSLIUYHIHEGKIL????????????????????? AEUGHGGSFG???????? okay listen. listen. when i see you irl i am legally obligated to punch you in the face (maybe with my mouth) because i feel so much lovehate for it it's unbelievable (in all the good ways) i SWEAR. when i told you about my cyberpunk au-crossover thingy i kinda expected it to be just me sharing my brainrot ideas i haven't even posted anything for it here yet but youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu im crying screaming throwing up foaming at the mouth im SO so normal i swear please believe me

[birdmitosis]

@lhassinu​ OKAY okay, this is a longish list, and some of the episodes have more Kururu-focus than others, but!! This is a lot fewer than 358 episodes; it’s only like 41 episodes when you take the half-episodes into account. I’ve also probably left out some good moments, there are just so many episodes... I also went ahead and put the placements of where the movies should probably go in there. I do recommend all the movies, and also the Chibi Kero short that goes along with Movie 2, especially. All the titles in the list below are taken from Wiki, rather than from the way they’re actually translated in the subtitles on that site. (And I’m linking it again just for convenience.)

9: Natsumi, Where Love Blooms, Kululu Looms / Aki Hinata, A Dynamite Woman

10: Face-off! Decisive Battle over Molar-3

28B: Kululu Ku of Kukuku

40A: Mois, You Could Say Happy New Year?

44: Keroro vs. Fuyuki Heated Sports Match / Kululu vs. Aki Exploding Invasion of Robots

47: Natsumi, Protect the Girls Festival / Keroro Becomes Afro

49A: Kululu, The Best Method in Space

51: Keroro Platoon Retreats! Good-bye, Pekopon

82A: Mutsumi Want to Be On My Radio?

83B: Kururu, the Most Dislikeable Guy

93: Natsumi Delves Into the Secret Base! / Aki Hinata, Probably the Strongest Woman In Space

SM1: Keroro Gunso the Super Movie (on that site as Sergeant Keroro: The Super Duper Movie)

100: Keroro Platoon Eh? Who Am…I? Who Is…Everyone?

101: The Keroro Platoon the Day Pekopon Stood Still!?

102: The Keroro Platoon Pekopon!! Impending Destruction of a Loved Planet!!

103: Keroro Platoon the Sincerity That You Showed Me

112: Kululu & Saburo The Artist's Decisive Encounter!

118B: Kululu The Sergeant Major Of Curry

122A: Kululu The Cursed DVD

129: Kiruru. The Messenger of Destruction

130A: Keroro Platoon All Members Reboot! (but 130B is also very funny if you like the Garuru Platoon)

133: Alisa Hunter of Darkness, Halloween in Chaos!

134B: Fuyuki & Kururu Go to Akihabara

147B: Giroro who gave me this? (just wait for it)

SM2: Keroro Gunso the Super Movie 2: The Deep Sea Princess de arimasu! (on that site as Sergeant Keroro: The Super Duper Movie 2)

153: Kerokero Military Operation Number 100

154: Keroro Farewell Sergeant Keroro

157A: Leave it to Chief Medic Pururu!

158B: Giroro, Exclude These Memories

161: Putata and Mekeke, Overzealous Killers

165A: Kululu, Temporary Leader

171B: Kululu, When Was He a House Sitter?

185B: Tamama, It's a Notebook

192B: Keroro Platoon, A Cake Is a Man's Battlefield!

194B: Kululu and a Puppy

198B: Natsumi and Momoka, Obligation Chocolate Excluded!

199: Kululu, Kululun Idol Legend / Keroro, Reseting My Mind!

SM3: Keroro Gunso the Super Movie 3: Keroro vs. Keroro Great Sky Duel de arimasu! (on that site as Sergeant Keroro: The Super Duper Movie 3)

210B: Aki, Children's Day

211: Musha Kero, Volume 1: Legendary Hero

214A: Kululu, I Quit

218B: Keroro, Caries War 2

229: Keroro, Killer Fist of Words! / Saburo and Kululu, Silent Fight (the first half definitely sets up the second half)

237: Musha Kero, Volume 4: Go West, Musha Kero Platoon

240A: Kululu, Sergeant Major's Special Mission

SM4: Keroro Gunso the Super Movie 4: Gekishin Dragon Warriors de arimasu! (on that site as Sergeant Keroro: The Super Duper Movie 4)

260: Kero Zero, Keroro Platoon's Departure Last Night / Kero Zero, Keroro Platoon's First Mission

268: Kero Zero, Enter Pekoponian Mecha Designer Kiko Katoyama

270: Chibi Kero vs. Chibi Fuyuki

284: Dororo, Farewell Platoon

295A: Keroro, The Two of Us Are One Kerororm

SM5: Keroro Gunso the Super Movie 5: Creation! Ultimate Keroro, Wonder Space-Time Island, de arimasu!! (on that site as Sergeant Keroro: The Super Duper Movie 5)

306B: Dororo, Doro is Coming! (though the first part of the episode sets it up, it's not totally necessary)

307: Keroro & Fuyuki, Night of the Time Capsule

311A: Kululu, the invasion has started

319: Mois, genius hacker? / Kululu, small old clock

320A: Natsumi, charming invaders

326A: Chibi Kero, fireworks from that summer

330B: Koyuki, first curry

349: Keroro, invading daily life / Keroro, hooray for reset

356A: Keroro platoon, real Dragon Warriors

357: Hinata family, Haru returns

[jodilin65]

THURSDAY, JANUARY 31, 2019 Stupid cock with a loud car still can’t go a day without visiting mommy and daddy but I’d say it’s definitely not living here. It just left for the night (at 6). So now it doesn’t have to make its own dinner.

Chatted with Aly earlier. She’s on the edge of the polar vortex I’m so glad we’re nowhere near. Wow, -40 degrees in Wisconsin? OMG!

Still having some itching and especially burning down there and I’m not sure why. On a list of no-nos for those with lichen sclerosis are hot chocolate and cocoa. Well, that’s what my Sugar Babies K-cups are so perhaps that’s part of why I was on fire earlier. Damn, I’m so fucking sick of my crotch torturing the shit out of me so much of the time! It’s better than yesterday, though, and I didn’t have any Sugar Babies today.

So I guess Ray realized he accidentally gave my message a thumbs up and decided to give it a thumbs down today which I replied to with a 😂. I expected to be blocked at that point but I wasn’t. Doesn’t the grumpy old fart know he can do that?

Really hoping we don’t need a new car anytime soon but the car’s ‘check engine’ light keeps coming on, suggesting something could be wrong with the transmission. As Tom said, transmissions aren’t worth fixing on older cars but if worse comes to worst, we grab a used car for three or four grand to tide us over for the rest of the time we’re in the state.

Right now my schedule is really pissing me off. I totally believe that it was not only cursed upon me not only to stop me from making money but also to make my life harder. Looks like I’m going to have to reschedule my dentist appointment though I should hit Dr. A with no problem. The question is whether or not I should in the first place. I’m thinking I might message her a week beforehand if I’m still stable and ask if I can bump her appointment up to June which is when I would have normally seen her and when my next round of blood work is due anyway. But then maybe I should go and show her my groin rash because it keeps trying to flare up as fast as I treat it, so as much as I fear medication, I’m wondering if that’s the only way to get rid of it for good. I would still worry that it’s just going to keep reoccurring so IDK.

I don’t regret the guinea pigs much at this point but I definitely regret the rats because they’re just so fucking timid. Just so, so timid. I knew better too, so why the fuck did I go and get them?

Tom was saying that in order to help him cut back on eating he’s sort of playing a game where he has only so many days to ration out only so much food. I told him he oughta pretend he’s on probation and part of its terms stipulates that he must do 10-20 minutes of programming a day or else his ass gets hauled to jail. I’m serious too, LOL. While I’ll never be on probation again, think of all the things we’d get done if we had no choice but to do it or run!

I’ve totally lost all control of my own weight. I try to take it as easy as possible on the food, and I could walk and walk all day, but the weight is definitely mine for life.

The problem is everything is bad for me because it’s either high in cholesterol, high in sodium or not good for LS.

I was so tempted to message a friend of the black bitch’s in Arizona from the Nicole account, pointing out all the ways she and her friends messed up when pretending to be from the police department, but she would only block that account, preventing me from tipping her off when it’s time to read my story, assuming she’s even alive then. She’s only four years younger than me.

Also, I absolutely cannot go to jail should they set me up. Not only for obvious reasons but I didn’t have the health issues in my 30s that I have now. Now I need daily thyroid medication which they would conveniently happen to take weeks or even months to give me, and I doubt they would give me anything for my LS or the glasses I need just to see where I’m going.

Went out walking earlier. A large woman with an old chihuahua stopped and chatted for a few seconds on Tandy and so did a very frail woman further down the street, telling me to hurry up and get my walk in since it’s going to rain tomorrow. Yes, it is! Looks like we have a rainy few days coming up, something I have mixed emotions about. The roof could leak, the place will smell of old wood since I think the attic has water damage, and the humidity will make my lungs tight because they’re not used to humid conditions. But I do like the rain otherwise and we certainly need it.

Had a weird dream that made no sense at all. I started off in a large room where a few full-size beds were laid out side by side. I was supposed to spend the night in the bed on one end by the door leading to the rest of the house or whatever it was. I was to sleep with this young woman. Nothing intimate or anything like that, it’s just where I was to sleep that night.

The girl was in her early to mid-20s and was petite with straight long dark blond hair and light eyes. As the few others that were in the room mingled about, we laid on our backs chatting with a small dog she had between us, and I smiled and said, “This is nice.”

She squeezed my hand with affection and then the girl was suddenly searching for running apparel on her laptop. I asked why she was looking at running apparel since she wasn’t into running and the girl said, “No, but you are. I want to get you something as a token of thanks.”

I told her she didn’t have to do that and showed her how solid my calves were. She poked and prodded them with her fingertips, inspecting the muscle.

Then the girl got up and packed some stuff into a bag because she was going out somewhere. As she was doing this, I said something about her cutting off the bed space and not leaving me much room the last time we slept together, so what should I do if she didn’t leave me much space that night?

“You do nothing about it because it was my space to begin with,” she told me.

Then she took off and I studied the room and decided it was ordinary-looking but stylish. I thought to myself that I might hang some things on certain sections where the walls were bare.

Then the bed turned into a car which I backed out of the spot the bed had been in and drove to the other end of the long room. So about 25 feet. Then I was worried that maybe I shouldn’t have moved the car and that the girl wouldn’t like the spot I moved it to, so I racked my brain trying to come up with a good excuse for moving there in the first place.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 30, 2019 Why are my numbers so bad lately? Been watching my sodium yet now my diastolic number is on the rise. It was a little over 80 but now it’s often between 90 and 100. My weight is up a couple of pounds too, and I can’t seem to get it back down. Oh well.

The car is now done and Tom even found another problem along the way where there was a pinched hose that was preventing antifreeze from going where it was supposed to. I’m just glad he was able to do it himself as I knew he would be! Saves us hundreds of dollars.

Speaking of something that costs hundreds but may be very worth it once we get ahead again, I was thinking of getting laser hair removal. As a woman ages, she gets hairs on her upper lip and plucking and waxing hurts, and of course you don’t want to shave them and get coarse stubble either. Nair thins the hairs but doesn’t remove them completely. The question is whether or not to buy my own laser treatment device or leave it to the pros. The pros would cost much more, of course, and it would take a minimum of four sessions, but at least I know it would be done right. Would love to have my underarms and legs done as well but that would really add up in cost so I’ll just focus on the ladystache.

Our little project junkies got new carpet today. This was an indoor project so I didn’t have to worry about hammering or power tools but there would have been a lot of door slamming as they were going in and out of their vehicle to get stuff. Fortunately, I slept through it.

So much for thinking that the rats and pigs wouldn’t hang together if I kept the rats out of the guinea pigs’ tube which I usually only give them when I’m sleeping. The rats were pissing it up on the very top level, so I washed it out and gave it back to the pigs, but sure enough, the rats quickly joined them. While it’s nice that they can get along, I had to separate the rats again because they were stealing too much food being the hoarders that they are. So they can’t live together. But it’s nice to know they can hang out together during cage cleanings.

Couldn’t find anything new to watch on Netflix other than the usual reality TV, documentaries and foreign shit with accents I’d rather not deal with and strange words with different meanings. What the hell is a “bonny” evening?

So I jumped back on Hulu since our 30 days aren’t up yet and watched a movie called Kidnap and it was very good. Not very realistic in some ways but good. Even though Hulu’s player sucks, if you watch something straight through, it’s okay. I would still like to find a mystery or drama series I haven’t seen that’s not a reality show or documentary of any kind WITHOUT any reference to God or racism. I’ve had enough of the religious and political crap.

Anyway, I’m pretty tired today because I slept shitty. Woke up warm a couple of times and then the fire truck that Tom told me went down to the end of the street woke me up when my earbud slipped out. Oh, how I miss the days of only needing to sleep with a box fan! But even if we were back in Phoenix with the acoustic sound-blocking shit we had in the master bedroom windows, it wouldn’t do me much good because box fans are so much quieter these days. Everything inside the home gets quieter while everything outside gets louder. So even if I wasn’t right on a busy street, they wouldn’t be enough. The best I can hope for in the next place is just needing Alexa to play white noise and being able to do away with the earbuds altogether. The only time I can skip out on them here is when I’m sleeping at night.

Really itchy down there today for some reason and I don’t know why. Something I ate?

TUESDAY, JANUARY 29, 2019 Day 1 of replacing the water pump is going well. Apparently, it’s buried so deep that he had to remove a lot of other parts in order to get to it. He said he would have been worried to find that it wasn’t broken after all but once he inspected it he could see that it’s clearly messed up.

I remember thinking how frustrated I would be if the doctors told me when I first went to one 5 years ago that everything was okay when I suspected I had either a dead thyroid or diabetes because then I would continue to wonder about my symptoms. How I would come to wish to hell that that’s exactly what they told me!

Anyway, he worked on and off for 4 hours and it should take him 2-3 hours to finish the project tomorrow.

Went out walking for the second day in a row but went by myself today. I saw Bob and Virginia sitting out front on what turned out to be a shorter walk than I planned on because it was sunnier than expected and I was a little warm in my long sleeves. So I doubled back and only Bob was there at the time. We chatted for a minute and then I saw him again when I went to pick up the mail. He was tweaking Virginia’s walker as they were preparing to go out for a quick walk. She can get around the house without it but just uses it for support when she’s out, Bob said.

I wrapped saran wrap around the upper level of the cage to help curb some of the bedding the pigs kick out when they get all playful and run around chasing each other like they love to do while chatting happily, but now that the rats can go up there, I’m a little worried that they’ll destroy the mesh once we get around to putting that on because they’re more destructive than guinea pigs.

The rats are strange. Not only are they horribly timid but they’re little kleptos who keep running up and down to steal food from the pigs when they have plenty of their own. The pigs can’t get down to the lower level and they have no interest in doing so anyway. They’re big and clumsy so going down the ramp at the angle it’s at would be extremely hard for them. But the rats, being the clever little bastards that they are, take food where the pigs can’t reach it.

What’s even stranger is that the pigs aren’t drinking water. They ignore their water bottle and they also ignore the bowl of water I placed in their cage in case they’d rather lap it up that way. I know they get plenty from all the lettuce they eat and they seem to be very healthy, but it’s still weird.

I couldn’t get into The Ted Bundy Files so I watched a crime documentary called Abducted in Plain Sight and OMG! The girl’s parents, who also got it on with the perp, weren’t just gullible and naive. They were downright stupid! They should be in jail for neglect, and damn the twisted system for not dealing with the perp decades sooner than they did.

“Nicole” gave Marie a piece of my mind as to how she wishes her luck but can’t deal with her rollercoaster moods, played with Stacey S for a bit, and told one of Maliheh’s friends that she owes Jodi an apology. LOL. I know. I’m bad. ;-( Asked Stacey if she’d gotten over her “crush” on Jodi.

No loud car today that I know of. Coincidence? I guess that remains to be seen.

I had a brief dream about Kathleen that I vaguely remember. She kept calling me Princess. Speaking of her, if she doesn’t call by April or May, and I certainly don’t expect her to… Why? Why do some people seem to really want to be your friend, ask for your number and then never call? I can see 20-somethings doing this, but a 65-year-old? Just wondering what’s in it for her and what she felt she got out of doing such a thing. Kathleen seems like the last person to do such a thing but then so did Stacey, even though she and I were in a totally different situation.

In another dream, I was with my mother in the first Longmeadow house we had. My mother’s whole demeanor seemed different. Instead of being the tense bossy bitch she would be, she seemed very mellow and relaxed.

There was a huge storm and after we were sitting upstairs in her room chatting for a while, I went downstairs to find that only the kitchen had flooded. There was about 4 feet of water but only in that room.

I ran back upstairs and told Mom that the storm was getting worse and she asked if I thought she should call to be evacuated by emergency workers. I told her to go ahead while I looked out the window at the other half a dozen houses on the dead-end street. All of them were pitch-dark except for one on the end. There were lights on in that house and I saw one window go dark.

The dream ended with me telling my mother that someone was home in that house.

MONDAY, JANUARY 28, 2019 I absolutely love my new garden fairy! She sure is heavy, too. When I was browsing similar items and looking at reviews where some people share photos of their purchases, there was a different fairy someone had painted. I thought wow, what a cool and fun idea! So I picked out a set of paints and brushes that will total $11. I’ll get it when I accumulate enough Bing points. Love this points game! I’m sure they’ll do away with it or make it much harder to get points now that I’m hooked on it. All good things come to an end. :-( For now, I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

Carolyn did respond to my message and says she doesn’t think the car guy ever moved. Oh, I think he did for a while. When he’s here he comes and goes multiple times a day. He’s an obvious slacker with enabling parents. He always seems to be perfectly single too, and I bet I can guess why. Plus, there would be no car there in the middle of the night during the times I wasn’t hearing from him much.

Looked back in my journal. I thought he became a problem in January of 2016 but it was actually 2017. He moved out in November of that year and only recently returned as far as I can tell. Decided I’m not going to bother to pursue the matter, though, because that’s just how the world is no matter where you go these days. Adult communities have become very mainstream-ish that I’m surprised they even still exist. I may hate to hear it when he goes by but this is pretty much all I know and is what I’m used to. I honestly can’t imagine a quiet place! Besides, even if they did something about it, there would just be something else.

Written the following morning…

I ran over to the other side of the circle before midnight and was surprised to find the car wasn’t there. I was up past 1:00 so I would have heard it if it came in. Once again, I don’t know what to think. Haven’t heard it since I got up but I didn’t get up until 10:30. I’m sure I’ll hear it at some point. They’re obviously having insecurity issues and clinging to their parents who don’t seem to be in a hurry to wean the little bastard off.

I thanked Carolyn for getting back to me after I asked her how long after their complaint before the car disappeared and that’s when she told me she didn’t think he ever left. I’m home more than they are and up in the middle of the night half the time so I still think he did leave around the time we both complained.

I also said it was too bad this park wasn’t big on enforcing its own rules. She said she agreed… different rules for different people.

I wonder if she’s referring to how they got complained on for overgrown corner bushes while we didn’t when ours were a bit neglected. Just something I sense but can’t say for sure, not that it matters. But our place looks shitty most of the time because there are so many plants and so little time for Tom to tend to them that I’ve suspected she may not so much as resent us for it but maybe be a little annoyed. I think their biggest reasons for pulling back where I’m concerned is partly due to Ray’s mouth but mostly due to the fact that we’re very different. They’re conservatives with a different set of values and beliefs.

I finished Law & Order SVU on Hulu and am now done with them and their god-awful player. Saw a movie on Netflix last night called Deadly Switch and next, I’m going to check out The Ted Bundy Files. At least that shouldn’t be chock-full of references to race and racism. I still firmly believe that while some people are truly a victim of racism, the vast majority of complaints are either exaggerated or made up in a day and age when people know that playing the race card usually works and gets them what they want. I also think that sometimes it’s just pure paranoia because they have been shit on in the past that they sometimes think they’re being discriminated against when they’re not.

The worst thing going on right now is that Tom has to take the next two days off to fix the car. We’re falling so far into debt that he decided to spend $100 to fix it himself rather than take it in and spend $500. The thing is that you’re not supposed to work on vehicles here so we could end up getting complained about, though I’d say it’s unlikely. He’s done car work before and no one’s ever said anything. This is when it’s a good thing we’re in a park that doesn’t care what people do. There are pros and cons to being in a lenient park just like in a strict one.

Anyway, Tom is going to be replacing the water pump on the car. It’s now leaking so bad that none of the different stop-leak products he’s tried is helping and he doesn’t think it’s going to make it until next weekend. Hopefully, he’ll make it home okay! He’s got AAA if worse comes to worst. I hope not, though! We owe so much fucking money now that our tax return is going solely to bills. We may never get to vacation again while we’re here, but since we should be out of here in less than a decade, that’s okay since we’re going to end up in the kind of climate we would vacation in, anyway.

I also created a bogus Facebook account under a name I drew from a random name generator. I’ve already backed up my Revenge story there privately so all one of us has to do, depending on who goes when, is make them public and then tip off a few people.

My main reason for creating the account, though, is to see what my account looks like to those who are logged in and not on my friend list. They took away the ‘view as’ option because they found security issues with it. Tried logging out and saw virtually nothing. Says I have over 18K pictures now stored on there. That’s a lot!

“Anyone ever call you rude?” someone asked me on Ask right after I answered a question pertaining to race that I knew Aly would disagree with. I automatically thought it was from her but then Cam started answering questions and I could see that he got asked the same thing. Still could be her, though, trying to throw me off her scent.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 27, 2019 Sent my complaint anonymously to the office about the fucking punk that has been roaring in and out several times just in the three hours I’ve been up. They’ve got one week to get him out of here. When that fails to happen I will take things a step further. I asked the Twenties how long it took between their complaint and when he actually left but I have a feeling they’re going to ignore me again.

How fucking stupid can these people be, though? Why would they think they wouldn’t get kicked out again? Do they even care or do they actually like to make trouble for themselves? They’re just like the freeloaders in Arizona were, thinking that after they behave a while they’ll be able to get away with shit the second time around because people will either suddenly not mind or they’ll throw their hands up and say “fuck it.”

I’m tired of having to fight for peace every single fucking place I go!

The mesh for the cage arrived and it’s a really beautiful shade of pale pink. We’re going to look into what type of epoxy would be safe for the animals so we can secure the side guards to the pan. Still don’t know why they didn’t make the thing with sides to begin with. The problem is that they’re able to push bedding, hay and whatnot underneath the tiny gap between the pan and side guards which makes a mess. Wrapping the mesh around the base of their level will only prevent what they kick up when they run around from getting flung out.

The rats are proving to be horribly timid but I knew they would be.

My very heavy fairy came today, a day early, and she’s beautiful! Keeping her indoors while at this place.

The other night I dreamed I was at the beach I spent my summers at as a kid or at least a similar one. I was out walking around at night and marveling at how peaceful and quiet it was. The only thing I heard through an open window as I walked between cottages was the sound of a toilet flushing.

Last night’s dream was a little scary, though. I was watching a news report about a strange storm that actually sucked sea levels down about 50 ft. I was watching a clip of about 20 people who were stranded on a giant round rock way out at sea. I guess sea levels dropped in just a few minutes because they had originally been at the tip of it which was all that protruded from the water when the water level went down. Due to the shape of the rock, they couldn’t climb down to their boats. The scary part was watching someone lose their footing and go tumbling down the rock and then spiral into the water below. It seemed so real and vividly clear! Definitely the kind of dream that makes me wonder about other dimensions.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 26, 2019 Got our new 9-week-old male cinnamon hooded rats which I’ve named Fuzzy and Woody. I also chose their names from a random pet name generator, but they may earn themselves nicknames like Blitz earned the nickname Funny Face after I get to know them a while.

When we went into the store we were greeted by a very helpful young woman. The place stunk and my lungs were a little tight for a while, but I like this small chain better than PetSmart and Petco. They had female Berkshires, hoodies and also a hairless rat which is an absolute no-no. I hate hairless animals. I contemplated a Berkshire and a hooded but then she showed me the males. They consisted of cinnamon hoodies and white rats. At first, I was going to get a hooded and a white rat but while I put my hand in the cage and no one bit me even though they could have, the snowy rats were really timid. So we ended up with two cinnamon hoodies which are hard to tell apart, depending on the angle and lighting. I’m sure they’ll get easier to tell apart as they get bigger. When they’re side by side in good lighting it’s obvious that one is lighter than the other. That’s Fuzzy. Woody is the darker one.

The girl said they were from an accidental litter and very timid. They do indeed seem timid but I’ve come to learn and accept a long time ago that I’m just meant to have timid rats. Ever since Tinkerbell, that’s just the way it’s been with only a couple of exceptions. I’m sure they’ll get better with time and age but I don’t expect them to end up being some of the best rats we’ve ever had.

They’re adorably cute and it’s nice to have intelligent animals again. I hate the time, money, mess and smell but it’s worth it. The guinea pigs, rats and fish are all on different schedules. Nocturnal, “dayturnal” and “noturnal,” LOL.

We grabbed them some food, and on Amazon, we ordered a couple of large glass canisters for their food as well as some pale pink mesh that I plan to wrap around the base of the upper level where the pigs are to help cut down some of the mess they kick out.

We eventually plan to introduce the rats to the pigs to each other but want to give them a little time to get adjusted first.

It’s nice to know when they were born; November 27th. The big chains usually don’t have that info.

Said hello to both Geri and Bob on Friday as I was going to pick up the mail.

Still can’t say for sure whether or not the loud car guy lives here but I think so. He’s definitely got to go too, because I’m so fucking sick of hearing that thing. Like I don’t have enough loud vehicles to listen to as it is.

The Twenties haven’t responded to my message so I don’t know if it’s because they have something against me or they’re pissed at me for telling Ray off but I don’t care. I’m glad I reminded myself that I don’t hold back if I have something to say and that I said what I said to him. What was strange was that first he gave it a thumbs-up, then a thumbs-down, and then a thumbs-up again. I’m guessing that was by accident? It’s easy to do. Kind of surprised he didn’t block me.

I don’t think I’m going to be able to tell when those who aren’t on my friend list or following me see one of my public stories, after all. One story said, “3 Facebook Followers” and I’m assuming that means those who are following me but not on my friend list. Then again, Christiane is a follower who’s not on my list yet her name appeared so I don’t know if the 3 followers weren’t really followers or not. I’m not sure if you can follow someone on Facebook secretly or not. My guess is no.

Interestingly enough, a Dixie T showed up in the “people you may know” section and I immediately thought of the Dixie I recently met. If it’s her, she only has one friend who, coincidentally, lives in Loomis. The account appears to be new. She doesn’t even have a profile picture. Sent them a message, so we’ll see.

I forgot to mention that she said she doesn’t like it here either and agrees it’s noisy and she said she didn’t know she would have to have water delivered. I guess she doesn’t like the taste of the tap water either. We just get bottled water.

Yesterday was a bit of a rough day because my heart was surprisingly racy. It raced on and off for most of the day, spiking between 110-115. It was very uncomfortable and even a little scary. I can see where the anxious feeling in my chest may not be connected to the medication, but I sure wonder about the racing heart. We know for a fact that it has affected my heart before for sure so I’m skipping my meds all weekend, placebo effect or not. Again, if it works, I’m going to do what helps whether it’s just a placebo or not. I’ve definitely been better today either way.

Tom told me about some ideas he has for his game but still doesn’t know when it’s going to be available in the App Store. He’s basically going to start with a simple matching game and each one will have a different theme.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 25, 2019 Part of me wishes I’d never told Aly I found her other Twitter account. This way I could always know what she was really thinking about me. I shouldn’t care as I have to be me, but I’m curious just the same. I’m sure I’ve said a million things by now that offend her that she doesn’t have the heart to tell me directly.

Although it will be a lot later when I finish this entry, right now it’s not even 10 and traffic has been annoying as hell. No loud car yet today, though, and boy do I have an interesting update where that’s concerned!

Yesterday I went out to dump some trash and saw Jon and Carolyn doing what they do best… Working in their yard. They were quiet about it, though, and their yard looks lovely compared to ours. Almost everyone’s does, LOL.

As usual, I did most of my talking with Jon. Carolyn isn’t as chatty as he is. At least not with me, anyway. That’s cool because I like Jon better. He has a good sense of humor. Those without at least some humor are boring. First I was telling him about losing the rats and getting guinea pigs and how we’re thinking of getting a couple of new rats. Then I asked if he noticed the increase in commercial planes over the last few months and he said not really but what’s pissing him off is the loud car (he pointed towards the back of the circle), saying he’s underaged and all that. That’s when I was like OMG, so I’m not alone on that one? I’m not the only one who’s incredibly annoyed by that insanely loud car, underaged or not?

He said he once complained a couple of years ago and every time he hears him roaring out at 6:30 in the morning as he did for several mornings, he thinks of filing another formal complaint.

I told him I complained anonymously online a couple of years ago and he disappeared shortly afterward leaving me to think it was either an interesting coincidence or they actually took my complaint seriously. He said they won’t do anything about whatever you complain about if you call or email them and that you have to fill out an official form and have it witnessed and all that. Then maybe it was him that got the cock booted and not me. Either way, I was relieved when the scumbag finally left, although it would be nice if he stopped coming in every single fucking day whether he’s living here or not.

Jon said something about a new legislature that was passed that will cause anyone who gets complained on to be fined or something like that. He’s sure he’s living here again and I thought that a couple of times as well but now I’m not so sure. Yesterday morning I never heard him. I only heard and saw him when I was talking to Dixie, which I’ll get to in a little bit, at around 3. Then the bastard left a couple of hours later. Haven’t heard him yet today, but since I suspect he’s working again, I’m sure he’ll show up later on.

After filling Tom in on our discussion I told Jon and Carolyn on Facebook that I was ready to complain along with them and we could witness each other’s complaints. But this morning I told them that as annoyed as I am with the damn thing coming in every day, I’m not so sure they’re living here. If they were, it was only for a very brief time. Haven’t heard back from them yet.

He said the woman that lives there is Melody and she has a bad attitude, but her husband Al pretty much goes along with her shit and all that. The son is either a loser who’s a slacker and mooching off of them and the parents are enablers or that is one seriously devoted son. Somehow I doubt it’s the latter. Those are the kinds of parents that would either encourage or at least put up with their kids having such loud vehicles, which is all about forcing attention and acknowledgment on others. I don’t need a BA in psychology to get that it’s all about bad attention being better than no attention as far as they’re concerned. I don’t know if this cock is narcissistic or feels neglected and that’s why he’s an asshole but he doesn’t seem to be neglected by his parents so I’m guessing he’s just a conceited little punk that thinks everyone owes him and that doesn’t give a shit about others. He has absolutely no respect and consideration for others and I’m not surprised that he has appeared to be perfectly single since he first became a problem 3 years ago. Some people actually like to annoy others.

He also said something about how the house briefly going up for sale twice and being pulled off the market was some kind of ruse to make money. Not sure how that would make money but I thought they pulled it off because they were greedy and couldn’t get what they wanted.

Whatever the case is, it’s sad that this park doesn’t give a shit and won’t reinforce its rules. They’re letting their fucking mutt come and go through a doggie door, which isn’t allowed here, and I wish someone would confiscate it and turn it over to Animal Control. I haven’t seen it in ages and it’s not like it barks outside our place so that’s not my main problem with them. My problem is they’ve had underaged people living with them two or three times and one of them is intruding upon my peace. If they want to live like they’re in the mainstream, then why did they come here?

Really wonder how many complaints it would take before they got kicked out. Couldn’t help thinking of Tammy’s park. If what she told me is true and not exaggerated in any way, then they wouldn’t stand a chance there and would have been booted a long time ago.

I told him that although I haven’t heard it recently, the other thing that pisses me off is the motorcycle that sometimes comes tearing in and out in the middle of the night that I thought was on the dead-end behind us, but he says he thinks it’s coming from the house that the contractor lived in which is next to the loud car house, as I call it.

Now here’s what he told me that I don’t like and that totally fucking figures. I told Tom this would happen, too. They’re getting quotes for putting up a garage, so that’s something I’ll have to listen to for the two or three days it takes to install a single-car garage. I hope to hell it doesn’t wake me up if I’m on nights when they do it!

I learned why they’re such project junkies and that’s that they’re trying to up the value of their home. I thought they were going to be here forever, but as Jon said, that won’t be the case unless he gets hit by another truck and doesn’t make it, haha. Let’s hope not!

Tom and I never saw the point in spending money just to get the money back so that’s why we’re not going to worry about upping the value of this place since it all evens out in the end either way.

They’re a little too project-happy but otherwise really nice people and I hope that the fact that I just sent Ray a piece of my mind won’t offend them. I left a message on my wall saying that I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone who may be friends with anyone I don’t especially care for (without naming names) but needed to get some things off my chest. I was going to wait until we moved but since the guy is probably well into his 80s, I can’t guarantee he’ll be alive to hear it at that time. Besides, it’s my right to speak my mind, and I can’t always worry about how others are going to take things. Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do and not worry about others. I swore long ago that I would never let anyone hold me back or intimidate me from saying anything I have to say. So yeah, I told him that whatever he said to Jon and Carolyn (and who knows who else) was wrong. If he had a problem with me, whatever it was, he should have come to me. Don’t know what his grudge was and I don’t care but I fucking can’t stand gossipmongers.

There’s a woman named Dixie now living in Mouth’s place. She’s a slender woman with dark eyes, bad breath, and teeth too perfect to be real. Seems really nice, though. Not sure if it’s just her or not but she pulled up to me in her SUV as I was returning from talking with Jon across the street and asked if I had the code to the gate. At least I thought that’s what she was asking me at first. She gave me her number and I called and left a message saying that I checked in my purse but didn’t have the code. I Skyped Tom and he said he had it written down in the car, and as I also told her in my voice message, he couldn’t just run out and get it so she would probably have to go to the office. I said I didn’t drive so I had no use for the code myself.

Then she came by again when Tom was just pulling in and what she really needed was help with was programming her clicker. Tom told her that ours is programmed right into the car. Dixie then thanked us and said to let her know if I needed to go anywhere and that she could drive us around wherever. That was really nice of her.

Could have used that kind of kindness when I was single once upon a whole different lifetime ago. The only one plenty willing to give me rides back then was Nervous, who was in my dreams last night. As I got older and maturer, I came to feel bad for using him for rides like I did even though I think it’s safe to say he got payment enough for it just with the time he got to spend with me. Anyway, I went out to a restaurant with him, Fran and Andy in last night’s dream and we stay there late. Eventually, he got up and told me he needed to go because he couldn’t be up that late and I gave him a hug goodbye, realizing it was after midnight.

I also met a woman named Elaine who moved in down by where Dixie is. If it’s the house I think it is, they have a loud SUV. It’s not quite as loud as the car but it’s annoying enough. Hell, even FedEx is blasting music when they come around. I swear the world only gets louder and louder. Even read an article recently about how the world is getting noisier and even hospitals aren’t as quiet as they used to be. Yeah, I believe it. I can just imagine how libraries have become as well.

I swear Elaine started to say something like, “My only complaint…” And then she turned toward the back corner of our place before someone distracted her by waving to her so I don’t know what she was going to say. I don’t know if it was about us or something in back of the house or what.

I said hello to Bob the other day and he said Virginia is getting stronger day by day.

Didn’t know this till now but I love how Facebook shows who views our public stories. Definitely going to share more things publicly since that’s interesting to see but mostly cuz I’m curious to see if the drama queen shows up.

After 110 calories and 25 minutes on the treadmill, I had to get off because I was getting light-headed. Yesterday I felt a little wound up like I might be flaring and my heart was doing triple digits. I feel slightly jittery today but nothing too serious and hopefully it will stay that way. But what I did feel was the kind of feeling I’d get before the meds become a problem. God, I hope I’m not heading in that direction, but I haven’t had the chest “stabbers” in several days.

I’m excited about tomorrow! I called around and found that Incredible Pets in Sacramento has a bunch of young rats of both genders. Hoping for my favorite, a cinnamon ratty, but I like all rats as long as they’re not hairless.

The other day I also had a dream about “walking” some strange bus with a group of people, including Mariska Hargitay. I had my own house and lived alone. We’d gone somewhere for the day as a group and were about to drop everyone off. The bus didn’t look like anything you’d see in real life. It was much smaller and had wheels in the center of it sort of like inline skates. Because we were in a crowded area I said I thought we should walk the bus toward the main road where it was less crowded. So we all carefully walked it like you would a bike towards a less populated area and I thought of how I would thank Mariska for being there for me when I got dropped off. I guess she and I had a personal chat during the day.

Another dream I remember from last night was being out somewhere walking late at night. I came upon a store that was being burglarized. I knew it had been broken into and that some guy was ripping them off not just because it was after hours but because he had a funny mask on his face that sort of resembled a pig. He spotted me and I froze. Then I sprinted away and began to run like hell through a grid of streets. Pretty sure someone else had been someone close getting into their car and also witnessed the guy, so I was hopeful that the thief’s attention would be on him instead.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 24, 2019 On the treadmill right now as I do this entry which will start off with the usual complaint… Noise. OMG, I heard 5 planes in just 10 minutes when I timed it, one of them being a small plane. The mornings are absolutely horrible! Didn’t seem as bad yesterday but this morning it was one after another for over an hour.

It seems that since he started working at this place we’ve been compensated for all the years we struggled financially, not that we’re not still in debt. I wish to hell I could believe I’ll be compensated for the health horror I’ve gone through here with nothing serious for a good long time and also compensated with spending our final years in a wonderfully peaceful, beautiful home.

But almost all my adult life has been spent dealing with noise so that one is really hard to hope for. If it’s true, though, that the more noise I have to deal with now means the more peace I get later on, then that is going to be one seriously peaceful place we’ll end up in! I still have my doubts because almost anywhere you go these days is noisy. Even if we don’t have all these planes overhead, we’re still going to get traffic, landscaping and other shit. It’s like I’m always compensated for what is lacking in that particular area. I don’t have barking and screaming kids here so it’s like it must be made up for with other shit. So even if we ended up where traffic and landscaping were less of an issue, that could mean more planes and more problem neighbors happily sawing away with their power tools and whatever other toys of annoyance they may possess. Our neighbor would be the one, like Tammy, to have their mutt barking out the door of their lanai. It’s like there’s always something.

Maybe if we do get close to any body of water, the main source of noise will be boats. I was looking at a home for sale by a canal in Florida and I would think that boats run up and down it regularly and that some would be audible enough. Obviously, large ships couldn’t pass through it but other things could. We hope to have our own boat at some point but don’t know what kind it will be, be it an inboard motor, outboard, whatever. It’s different when things are your own, though, because you have control over your own stuff. I can’t tell those with loud vehicles not to ride by the bedroom tonight because I’ll be asleep.

As for all the planes here, I can’t get anyone to listen to me much less to do anything about it. No matter how much I tweet to the airport or file online complaint forms, I am ignored.

Surprisingly, I haven’t heard the loud car yet today but it came and went early yesterday morning and then in the afternoon, as usual. When they came in around 3 and still hadn’t left by 6, I was again getting worried that they moved back in, but they left shortly after that.

Again, that is one devoted son! Or is the correct word clingy? We’re living in strange times, that’s for sure. Everyone’s quick to preach independence… Get your own place, get your own job, get your own vehicle, get your own everything. Yet kids are living with their parents older and older these days. Used to be everybody left home at 18 like I did and visited their parents once a week or less, and it isn’t when they leave home or how often they visit I have a problem with, it’s me having to know about it that bothers me. I don’t force my noise on others and I just wish I could get the same fucking respect. Hope the punk with the loud car has someone at home when they leave, even though I suspect they’re single. What a great way to announce your departure to potential burglars! Same thing I thought about the welfare bums blasting in and out with their fucking car stereos in Pheonix.

Something occurred to me earlier in regards to the mutt that would be barking its ass off two or three times a day when it would be out walking. It occurred to me that I haven’t heard it in a while. I don’t know if that’s because it was in one of the houses that moved or something happened to it, but it makes me wonder if my influencing had anything to do with it disappearing. I mean, what are the odds of the thing suddenly disappearing given how long dogs live? There are too many loud vehicles these days for me to influence them all but it gives me a little bit of hope then I can get rid of some of them. It definitely does seem like while I can’t actively wish them away, the anger and frustration I feel as they continue to annoy me seems to affect them.

“Blame the brown people,” a Mexican character said on Law & Order SVU when the cops came to his door. Then Ice T pointed out he was just as brown.

LOL, nice try, asshole. But sadly, this degree of race card playing doesn’t happen only on TV.

They weren’t kidding when they said that potatoes aggravate LS. Wanting to use up the rest of the potatoes before they went bad, and knowing how much Tom loves them, I made mashed potatoes and they came out so damn good with the perfect balance of margarine, milk and garlic salt that I ate tons of it. I paid later on with itching and especially with burning. If it weren’t for Tucks I’d be lost! This was after doing well enough for a few days that I didn’t need to Tucks myself like I usually do at the end of my day so I don’t wake up itching.

Everything is bad for me somehow. Everything. It’s frustrating as hell because now I can’t just shop for whatever when ordering groceries and it makes things harder. I have to avoid potatoes, canned soup, frozen pizza, greasy foods, and things high in cholesterol and sodium. I rarely eat bread and not much pasta either.

Walmart really fucked up the last two orders by getting things wrong and being out of stock on a lot of things. They’re very irresponsible. Safeway isn’t perfect but I think next time around I’ll order from them. Will focus mostly on fish, fruits and veggies.

I really should try once again to get some weight off not for appearance’s sake but for better health, and mobility, and of course my clothes would fit better too. But how? HOW??? Older people have slower metabolisms with or without thyroid disease and it takes so few calories to maintain and even fewer to lose. If most of us could simply stand the hunger for so long, then most of us wouldn’t be fat. I even prided myself on being one of the “smarter” ones who long since stopped bothering to try as I’m A, not likely to succeed, and B, not likely to maintain that success should I succeed in the first place by some miracle. But sometimes I wish I could lose even just 15 pounds or so. It isn’t only the hunger that prevents me from bothering but I worry about my medication as well.

Now why did my shoelaces come untied? Got to stop this thing and tie it.

Okay, that’s 16 minutes I’ve done so far. I wish this thing had a pause button so the counter wouldn’t start over.

Once again we’re contemplating getting rats for the lower level of the cage. The only negatives to that would be that it would up my responsibilities because rats take more time and care than guinea pigs with the way they like to run around loose and the way they’re attention whores that are much more social than guinea pigs. The pigs would probably like running loose as well but they’re not nearly as smart and I would have a hard time getting them back. A rat will return to his house eventually on his own. Even if the guinea pigs weren’t so stupid, they’re on the upper level so they couldn’t just go home. Gotta admit their stupidity is kind of cute, though. They’re dumb in a silly way. The only thing they know is to squeak for food.

The rats would need to be downstairs so they could come and go. Rats are also notorious pissers that would go about marking their so-called territory and are smart enough to figure out how to get into shit I don’t want them getting into. Ever since having to remove the side paneling between the dishwasher and the cabinet under the sink, there has been a little opening in which even an adult rat might be able to wiggle through and we definitely don’t want them getting back there. The clever little shits could probably figure out a way around whatever we put there to try to block it.

But even though it would be more work, time and money, I can’t imagine not having rats until we get a dog and if we do, it won’t be till he retires because I can’t always be available during the daytime to take it out. With a dog, I doubt I’d want anything else but maybe a betta.

Just did a little research and rats should actually be able to live with the guinea pigs so they can go up and down both levels of the cage. The pigs will probably just stay on the top but there will be water bottles on both levels if they don’t. I watched an adorably cute video of them interacting with each other and then I remembered that I have seen videos of them together in the past. I don’t know about putting adult rats with them but if the rats are babies to begin with then there shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll try it, assuming there are any left in the state. It seems everyone’s either out of them or no longer sells them.

Hopping off the TM at 20 minutes. Will walk more later.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 23, 2019 Training these dumb but cute pigs as best I can but here’s a clear example of the difference between their bravery and Butterboy’s. Butterboy’s no longer scared of the colorful duster when I’m dusting the area by his tank. Meanwhile, the pigs will keep running from the same old shit no matter how many hundreds of times they see it proves to be harmless.

Since these guys are kicking up enough shit onto the floor even with the cardboard walls we created, I decided to remove them and just vacuum the area every other day or so. I saved the pieces of cardboard in case we decide to put them back but I figured that if they’re going to make so much of a mess anyway, why block the flow of air to the air cleaner when they can have better ventilation and we can see them better this way, too?

I gave Funny Face, as I’ve been calling Blitz, extra attention today since he’s way more skittish than Rockefeller.

Since they can’t climb like a rat can, I lowered the shelf which lowered the ramp as well. Even a feeble guinea pig should be able to navigate the ramp with the way I’ve got it set up. The question is whether or not they’ll want to. I “showed” them how to do it.

Well, apparently Rockefeller wants to because he’s up there now, so I just saw, in the tube that I put there. I was hesitant to leave anything they could hide in inside the cage all the time because I thought that would make them more skittish if they could cower in a hideaway all the time rather than have to get used to being more exposed. For now, I’ll leave it like it is. They only have a hideaway on the shelf, not downstairs.

What is it with guinea pigs and raspberries, though? Guinea pigs eat fruit but for some reason, raspberries are an absolute no-no for them.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 22, 2019 “My dear devoted son, thank you for checking in on us twice a day like you have been for a while now and enjoying being fed while you were at it. But we’re two grown adults perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves just like you are. You don’t need to check on us twice a day or more and you can afford to feed yourself with your job. Get out there and enjoy life while you’re young and you still can instead of hanging onto your parents. Meet somebody and do some fun and interesting things in your free time. It may be hard at first but now it’s time to wean you off of us and get you more independent.”

How I wish the mother of the fucking loud car cock would say this! But just like I knew it would, it returned for free food and whatever else it could get in the middle of the afternoon yesterday. It’s in getting free breakfast right now because God forbid it should dare to make its own with its own food paid for with its own money for however many weeks or months they work this time around. It’s in later today, though, and I’m guessing it’s going to leave any second now and then it will be back at the end of my day.

They’re far from the only annoyance here. The planes were absolutely horrible yesterday and there is plenty of other loud traffic. Today I’ve got the sound machine that I sleep with because I just don’t want to hear it. They weren’t just roaring overhead in the morning but in the afternoon as well. Two tweets to Sac Intl have gone ignored as did my other complaints. They just don’t give a shit who they annoy. The sound machine I have going now is pretty loud yet I can still make out the faint rumble of planes. If I didn’t know they were there I probably wouldn’t notice but since I do it does stand out.

Skipped my meds today because I was a little wound up yesterday. Placebo effect or not, if it works, it works, and I’ll fucking sit and pick my nose on YouTube all day if that’s what it took to keep that horrible feeling away!

There are at least two women that I know of running for president and one of them is a black woman. Or maybe she’s mulatto since she looks “barely” black. She’s fairly decent looking for her age and when I did a quick Wiki check on Kamala Harris, I thought she would be great for the country regardless of gender/race. She’s from Cali, married, a year older than me, no kids, and seems to stand for everything Tom and I stand for… equality, freedom of choice, etc.

Do I think she stands a chance? No, because she’s a woman and we live in a country where women love men and men love men. But then I think yes, because she’s black or at least part black and even if some people won’t admit it or can’t see it, I still see every indication to believe that most people in the US do favor blacks. I totally believe that’s why Obama was elected.

But then I would have said both yes and no to someone like Trump as well. Yes, because it’s got a dick between its legs. No, because he’s a hater and the only thing that still gets a lot of hate in this country are gays and lesbians.

I asked Tom if he thought Trump will get reelected and he said he has no idea. People are crazy and you never know what crazy will do, he said. Oh, I totally agree!

Tom deposited Campbell’s check on the phone which was just so cool! He forgot to check this morning to verify if it went through but it seems like it did. I reminded him to check when he gets home even though I suppose I could check. It’s just that I’m so shitty with numbers that we’ve always let him handle the finances. Just like I handle the housework because his idea of dusting is very different than mine, LOL. I told him when he retires I’ll keep cleaning and he can cook for us.

Now I don’t know if I’m going to get another period or not. I would still think that sooner or later I’ll get one but it’s like my body tried and tried really hard to kick one off and it couldn’t quite do it. Therefore, the PMS symptoms have backed off. They’re not completely gone but they have lessened.

Hulu’s player really sucks. It doesn’t remember where we left off and has other tech issues. He said that when he tried using it in Microsoft Edge on his Windows computer he heard only the music and sound effects but no voices.

Last night I dreamed I was out in the living room working at my desk and the return vent was closer to the desk than to the couch. I looked down at it and saw a mouse peering up at me and thought that I’d have to tell Aly that it was now my time to need a glue board. The mouse, however, seemed bigger, fatter and braver, like it was a pet mouse. I reached for my phone to take a picture of its adorable face peeking through the grille, but all my phone did was play a recording of prank phone calls I’d made 30 years ago during which the mouse managed to pull itself up into the room and disappear somewhere.

MONDAY, JANUARY 21, 2019 What’s the point of playing white noise through noise-canceling headphones when you can still hear loud vehicles loud and clear? sighs with frustration At least they’re good for planes and landscaping and moderately loud vehicles. The insanely loud ones, including motorcycles, can’t be drowned out unless I blast white noise or music super loud.

At just after 6 this morning the loud car came in and then left a few minutes later. What’s the punk going to do when its parents are no longer around to run to 50 times a day? They fucking came and went as early as 7:15 yesterday morning to around when I crashed in the early afternoon. One time they turned around and came right back like they forgot something. It does look like they may have gotten a job to be coming in this early on weekdays and not returning until later in the afternoon, but I wish they would get more of a life once and for all! My God, get a girlfriend, get a boyfriend, have a kid, get in a fucking fight with your parents and disown them for all I care…just do something to prevent yourself from spending so much of your free time here! Do you want to be a slacker and a loser all your life?

Cock probably feels rejected in general and therefore the type that would compensate by forcing its attention on others through other means, e.g. loud vehicles. I’m surprised they don’t blast music too, but someone has been lately and I’m wondering if it’s whoever moved into the house next to Jim.

I tried doing my influencing thing by imagining the car going faster and faster with the cock unable to control it and then sending it crashing into a concrete wall or something but I’ve never been able to actively make something happen. It’s always when I least expect it that my emotions cause either negative or positive effects on something or someone. It’s kind of like with the dream premonitions. I can’t control what I dream about that may ultimately end up coming true.

If a couple of dreams meant anything, though, then we’re out of here in September of 2020 but I honestly can’t see us leaving until he retires and he can’t possibly retire by then. On his next birthday, we can get a sense of what we could get if he retired early but he almost certainly is going to need to work until full retirement.

Had anxiety yesterday for 4-5 hours and hoping for a better day today. It may only be a placebo effect, but I didn’t wait long after taking my meds to have my coffee. So far so good. Made sure to tap more often and hit the treadmill after I showered and ate. Burned about 152 calories in just over a half-hour. I also did some Bowflex exercises.

At around 8, the planes should be dying down for the next 12 hours, though I still hear some scattered flights throughout that time. I’ll do some cleaning then too, so I can play Alexa “everywhere” without the rumbling of planes. Or at least without as many. I tweeted a piece of my mind to Sac Airport but I’m sure I’ll be ignored just like the 2 online complaints I filled out were.

Last night I dreamed that I wanted to stop dying my hair so I dyed it gray so that the gray growing out would be less noticeable. In reality, I think it would be just as noticeable because I still have a lot of brown in my gray.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 20, 2019 Campbell’s did make good on their word after all and sent me a $20 check. I was surprised. I really thought I would just get coupons or something like that.

We decided on Saturdays we would change the pigs’ cage and we would replace half of the fish’s water on Sundays.

I gave the pigs some tubes to hide in which they love, of course. But I don’t want them to always have places to run and hide and be less and less used to having us walk up to them in their cage so I make a point of removing the tubes when I’m awake. They can hide in there when I’m sleeping.

Because they’re so dissimilar in so many ways, it’s hard to believe guinea pigs and rats are related. But if it’s got two upper teeth and two lower teeth, it’s classified as a rodent.

I was glad to read some good news for once and that’s that they’re going to bring back Unsolved Mysteries on Netflix. I was really into that show in the 90s. I assume it will be with all new cases, of course.

Went to Sam’s yesterday morning and today we’ll be going to get some car parts and other places as well.

The year was 2020 in my dream and we were moving. I told someone who asked when we moved in that we moved in in 2013 as we did in real life. Only we were leaving a dumpy 2nd-floor apartment. Not this house. :( Still hope it means something as well as the dream I had where we moved in the month of September. I don’t see how we could move before he retires, though.

I also had some kind of dream that involved returning from vacation with my parents. It had been a fun vacation but I was glad to be home.

My mother was talking to some woman about a blog they had as Dad and I unpacked. The woman was saying something about being worried it would be shut down. Right as my mother went to tell her that all she had to do was claim a family member used it too, to prevent it from being shut down, I informed her of this as well.

Then Tom and I were going to bed in a hotel room when he plopped down on the bed and fell asleep as quickly as his head hit the pillow. I looked at him and said, “I guess I’ll take that side then,” and headed to the other side of the bed. As I walked around the foot of the bed I could see several large monitors on the wall by the head of the bed. I knew they had to do with entertainment and internet access for the guests.

Then I had a dream I had just stepped out the back door of either a house or an apartment with a woman who was a lot taller than me. She seemed to be someone who was more than a friend too.

Suddenly, we heard some guys’ voices that had entered the front that we might have known. The woman immediately put a hand over my mouth and moved me along with her to the side of the door so we could eavesdrop on what was being said without being seen.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 19, 2019 After reading that earaches caused by earbuds can be due to compressed wax, I doused my ear with alcohol and peroxide. It worked, too. No earaches in either ear so nothing woke me up since I could use the earbuds. :-) Still getting backaches, though.

A car came in with music loud enough to hear and drove into the circle and past Bob and Virginia after 11. Adult communities definitely aren’t what they used to be. I remember Al saying they had the door open all day and didn’t hear a sound when they were clearing his sister out. Well, he’d certainly hear things here at night with the door closed.

I heard a few planes since getting up at 10:30 but OMG, the planes drove me crazy yesterday morning for about an hour and a half. Ironically enough, there has been less of the loud car since the planes are back to the usual shit they’ve been up to since September. It still came in but it was later in the morning and only stuck around for a few minutes.

Anyway, finally fed up with all the planes and curious to know why they’ve been flying over us so much these last few months, I called the airport and was given another number to call. When I called the number, a recorded voice came on saying to give them the number of the aircraft I was complaining about. Now how the hell am I supposed to know the numbers of all these aircrafts? I suppose that’s their method of deterring complaints and having to deal with them. I’ve complained online twice but was ignored both times. So yeah, they’re going to do what they’re going to do and they don’t want to hear any complaints about it.

Amazingly, the cream I got is doing wonders for my rash. I was surprised to notice a difference after just one use.

Aly said she finally solved the mystery of Kim being yelled at for going up and down the stairs on one leg. It isn’t that she’s hopping up and down on one foot but she’s holding the railing with one hand while dragging one foot along the way. I would still think she would be way too heavy to do that and that it would be rather awkward. Why would anyone want to do that? What’s even stranger is that she claims her doctor told her it was normal. I think Kim is just totally beyond delusional as hell. Always has been. Always will be.

Someone asked Aly on Ask how long her longest relationship was and she said 2 years. She told me 9 months. Maybe she was just too embarrassed to admit it if the answer she gave me was the truth.

She tweeted about Cam’s family getting together at some mosque and then creating a Jewish-Muslim lunch or something. I knew her BF was Jewish but is he also Muslim? Or perhaps he’s got relatives that are Muslim? Either way, I’d love to see her tell them she’s bisexual and see how fast they turn against her like the Muslim family she was a nanny for did. She doesn’t want to believe that most of them are very hateful and intolerant, if not deadly. No matter how many news reports there are of them killing by the masses and even their own family members for loving the “wrong” person, she always defends him. I guess that’s simply our politically correct society for you. I just would have thought she would be intelligent enough to see their true colors but if she can’t see Molly’s, why would she see theirs?

FRIDAY, JANUARY 18, 2019 When I was checking out the islands of Long Island Sound that I could just make out along the horizon from the beach we spent our summers at as a kid, one of them was Little Gull Island. It’s only an acre from what I read and the only thing I could see on it from Google Maps was a lighthouse. I remember the foghorn we would hear from time to time. I wonder if it was coming from there. Can the sound of a foghorn travel seven or eight miles? From the looks of it, that’s how far that Island is from Old Colony Beach.

I saw a 30-minute video shot by someone who I guess was rowing toward the island and was surprised to see several seals on the island’s rocky shores. I was like, seals? Seals? I don’t remember ever seeing a single seal at the beach but maybe they avoid people and stick to the islands that are out of the way and uninhabited. They’re so cute either way.

Thank you, God, for continuing to curse my sleep, if You even exist. And why? Because I don’t have to get up to an alarm 5 days a week? Is this your compensation for not having to do that?

Yeah, I pulled the earbuds out in the late afternoon because my ear was irritated again. I would feel this sharp cramp-like sensation, maybe due to the pressure or something. It was okay when not lying on that ear but I tend to do that quite a bit. Over the years I got in the habit of not lying on my bad ear, thanks to my parents who I wish I could resurrect long enough to beat the shit out of for having the so-called “professionals” mess with that ear so they could have a “normal” daughter. Really, why did the doctors agree to such a thing? How could they have possibly felt it would help me as they claimed? Well, it’s done anything but that because I’m also feeling these intermittent sharp cramp-like sensations on that side too, only it’s on the outside. What’s left of the outside has been a little more sensitive lately and I don’t know why. I guess too much nerve damage from all the surgery I was forced to have as a kid. It looks horrible and is definitely noticeable. It’s changed shape as the lower part of it “withered” and “sunk” after the frame was removed there’s no way I can wear earrings because that lobe is higher than the other one and they make earrings look lopsided. Some of the dangling ones aren’t as noticeable but for the most part, earrings are out of the question.

Anyway, that fucking car woke me up and shorted my sleep by about an hour or so. I’m not overly tired but I am going to take the day off from working out, anyway. Can’t swear that it really was that car since there are tons of loud vehicles these days, but I’d say it’s a pretty good guess. It’s insanely loud and has a very distinct sound.

sighs with frustration How much longer can I just shrug and tell myself that that’s just life? Sooner or later I’m going to get fed up enough to do something about some of these people who feel the need to get attention at my expense whether they realize they’re doing it or not. Okay, so the damn cock can’t possibly know he’s waking up a light sleeper who can’t keep a schedule. But does that really make it okay? Does he being the norm and me being the exception make it acceptable?

While I’m slowly getting more and more fed up and unable to adapt for whatever reason, I can’t help but wonder…is this bastard also compensation of sorts? Has something up there increased his visits since the commercial planes have backed off? Well, I would rather the planes even though they were way more frequent because they didn’t wake me up. This fucker is going to shorten the number of days/nights I can go without the earbuds since he’s apparently stopping in for breakfast and then dinner at the end of the day. I don’t get this at all either. It’s working now but it can’t afford to buy its own food and cook its own fucking meals?

When I would go to bed at around midnight, I could go without the earbuds because traffic didn’t usually get loud until around 8 at which time I would usually be up by having crashed around midnight. But with this fucker coming in at a quarter to 6 in the morning and leaving between 8 and 9 at night, this means I have to sleep with the earbuds more often and irritate my ear some more. It’s either suffer the pain or get woken up. Again, it’s like something up there is causing the pain and may as well yank the earbud out of my ear and shout, “No! If I wanted you to sleep, I wouldn’t have made you such a light sleeper and curse you further with CRD!”

So today I’m a little tired and trying not to beat my head in the wall over the fact that this is the way it’s always going to be. It’s just not likely to get any quieter anytime soon. Probably not in our lifetime anyway, and I can’t beat the shit out of every driver of every loud vehicle. Also, if we ever do have a place on a less traveled street with a bedroom further from that street, since all it takes is one vehicle to ruin a good night’s sleep, that’s years away from now.

Yesterday my lungs were tight enough to have to use my inhaler and for a moment I worried it was related to my medication even though I knew it wasn’t and that it was due to all the rain. I also worried I wouldn’t be able to handle Florida with how much it rains there but Tom thinks I’d be okay because it doesn’t go back and forth so much there like it does here in the winter. I hope he’s right and that it’s not the pigs either! I also doubt it’s the meds because I don’t have other symptoms along with it like I would in the past. No “mindfuckers,” jitteriness, runs, or weight loss. Oh no, just the opposite. I’m up a couple of pounds and hoping it’s just water. My boobs aren’t as sore but I still feel PMSy. Backaches and a little water retention. I’m hungrier, too.

Tom says that since he can’t cut back he’s going to start working out big time to see if he can lose weight that way. The only problem is, as I told him, there aren’t enough minutes in the day for him to work out that much! LOL

I burn about 200 calories if I walk an hour. Therefore, I would have to walk 2-6 hours a day to “trick” my body into thinking I had only 1000 calories. Not going to happen. Besides, it doesn’t quite work that way. When we first moved in here, I was doing those 90-minute HIIT routines that are supposed to burn 1000 calories and that didn’t do me any good. So since I can’t cut back either or spend half the day on the treadmill even if it did work that way, I realize my only hope is to “play the scale.” My average daily gain is 2-3 pounds but I have to be up no more than 1 pound in order to be down the next day. My average sleep loss is just over a pound. So I would have to eat when I was ready to as usual at the beginning of my day but then I couldn’t eat again until the scale fell back to where I was only up 1 pound since getting up which can take many hours. The only tricky part is knowing when to stop eating for the day so I have enough time for my weight to fall to where I’m only up a pound when I crash. I doubt I’ll do this, though, as it still requires going hungry most of the time and ending up lightheaded and grumpy. Besides, extra weight goes with most older mammals as does gray hair, worsening vision and a whole lot of other bullshit. Exercising is still a good thing no matter what we weigh.

I’ve been having more sodium lately and it’s reflecting in my blood pressure numbers so I’m definitely going to focus on that, which is much more doable.

Because I sometimes still use the skier even though I don’t use it nearly as often as the treadmill, we might get this flexible phone holder that you attach to the edge of a table or a shelf. The desk is right by it so I could attach it to that or part of the skier itself for when I want to go ski blogging. It would also be good for in bed as I could attach it to the headboard shelf. The skier is what I mostly want it for, though.

Also found a blood pressure monitor wrist cuff that also detects irregular heartbeats. I’m curious to see if it ever detects one these days.

Definitely not impressed with Hulu’s player. It doesn’t remember where we left off and the buffering bar doesn’t go away unless I minimize the window after backing up a few seconds if I miss something or want to see something again. So we’re probably going to drop Hulu after the 30 days is up. I’ll make sure I finish Law & Order by then.

Really getting sick of all these memory issues. Like forgetting to empty the dryer’s lint trap.

Since the cock had to wake me up in the middle of a dream, I remember it. I was living in an apartment building and watching TV. Some kind of documentary. I was surprised to find a guy who lived in the building featured on one of the episodes, though I don’t know what it was about. I then realized it explained why he hadn’t been home as much lately.

Then I was listening to music and it was like I was a kid again even though I wasn’t. I was thinking of the second house we had in Longmeadow and I was tired of circumstances coming up to yank me out of it. I guess I was stuck somewhere else for some reason and was beginning to feel like something didn’t want me in the house.

As I continued to sway back and forth to the music with my eyes shut, tears threatening to squeeze through my lids, and a fan blowing on me (I guess it was summer), I imagined I was back in the house and not wherever I was.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 17, 2019 Ended up feeling okay yesterday and waited the required half-hour before having coffee after taking my meds. Hopefully, I’ll stay okay today and the tightness in my lungs is only because of all the wind-driven rain we’ve had which certainly sprouts mold. Been a little worried about the roof but so far so good.

The earbud was irritating my ear again so I removed it just to get woken up by what was probably that loud car. That’s when I put it back in and was fine until I got up at 8:30.

Cock isn’t living here again, after all. By some miracle, maybe while I was watching a show, they slipped in unnoticed early Tuesday morning. They didn’t go by the bedroom, so that was probably why. When I did hear and see them leave a short while later, I thought they were here overnight because it was so early. They might as well live here if they’re going to come and go 2-3 times a day as they do.

Yesterday they came in at 5:50 in the morning and left 40 minutes later. Until I’m on days, I won’t be able to get a sense of if they’re working or not. It’s hard to believe they would get up that early if they didn’t have to, though. When they lived here they didn’t usually leave until after 9:30. If that was them that woke me up, then they can’t be working full time unless they woke me up at the end of the day. I didn’t look at the clock so I don’t know.

Just like I hate it when Tom makes excuses for and defends anyone I complain about, I really wish he would stop playing down and denying the noise here. This place seriously and totally makes Phoenix seem comatose. No joke! No exaggeration. He tried to tell me the other day that I’m just more “sensitive” now. Oh, come on! Like I wouldn’t have noticed if traffic was this loud in the past even if we weren’t so close to the street. Never before has there been this many muscle cars and other loud vehicles on the road, nor have I ever lived where there were so many motorcycles. The traffic issues in the past were loud car stereos and engine gunning. We can still hear some of that here but 90% of the traffic we hear in here are loud motors.

Set up my new jewelry holder and it’s much better! It’s a much more efficient and versatile holder and I don’t know why I didn’t get this particular design to begin with. The only thing I would have to do is maybe remove some necklaces to get at the ones closest to the stems off the T’s but that’s no big deal. It has a white base and a nickel finish. The gold looked nicer online but it was twice as expensive so I went with nickel which is still pleasant enough. Tom can use the copper carousel to hang wires on or whatever else he might think of.

Really hope the rash cream that should be coming today helps because it’s itchy and spreading!

Here we go again with another migrant caravan. When I read that I said, “Oh no, not again!”

Do some people actually want to make trouble for themselves as well as for others? Do some people actually like being tear-gassed? Defiant little fucks like this that will literally harm themselves and even die to spite others are the scariest kinds of people of all. These are the kinds of people who have no limits and will go to any extreme possible to make their fucking point.

There are numerous people who have come from other countries, including my bestie’s BF, in a perfectly legal manner with nothing but good intentions, and that’s fine. But if there’s one thing and one thing only that I agree with the orange nutjob on it’s that most illegals are up to no good and we’re the ones that have to pay for it. Why would you come here illegally if you had good intentions in the end? Illegals do nothing but burden our resources, drive the crime rate up, and steal jobs from those who are from here. Enough is enough! I wish the Border Patrol agents could replace their tear gas with bullets but as I said, some people will stop at nothing. If they suddenly knew they would be shot, they would still defy our laws just to piss people off and make a point.

I just dread the day we break down and start paying for their needs, including housing them in jail. Our tax dollars shouldn’t go to criminals (and you are one if you come here illegally). What about our needs and expenses? Who pays for those?

Sooner or later, though, we’re going to start letting them in and footing the bill. That’s just how this bleeding-heart country is. :-(

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 16, 2019 When I heard the loud car leave at 6:30 in the morning I said to myself, “Oh no! Just oh fucking no. They’re living here again!”

But I knew damn well they would be back sooner or later. I know how these manipulating rule-breakers work. The Phoenix freeloaders taught me well. They get caught at something, they behave for a while, then they see if they can get away with something a second time around and hope that no one will notice or bother reporting them.

The only positive to the cock leaving that early in the morning is that it could be a sign they’re working again. The 2 or 3 months I knew them to work when they last lived here, they’d leave at 6:30, return in the afternoon, and then go out again for 2 or 3 hours. On weekends it would come and go at least 3 times.

Then tonight, as I was finishing up on the treadmill, I saw it leave at quarter to ten. Using one of my old paper journals to start a car log. On days I’m sleeping on weekends I’ll leave it in the kitchen for Tom to log whenever he sees it. Leaving that late could mean they didn’t really move back in, but this car has been active anywhere at almost all hours of the day and night. Could return any second but I’ll know if it does. If I see that they are in fact living here, I’ll complain after a month. I just wish they’d stop coming and going so fucking much either way! Ironically enough, my earbuds started working again so I was protected from anything that went on while I slept. Who knows how many times they were in and out today?

My groin rash is a contagious fungus that I could have gotten from the fungus that’s been in my toenails forever now or from several other causes. I’m sure being fat doesn’t help. When I ordered groceries, I got antifungal cream for both my groin and my toenails. I didn’t realize this thing was contagious so I’ve set aside a hand towel for drying my groin which I’m applying alcohol to periodically. Could also be caused by friction from working out as much as I do.

Now for my worst news. I did okay until the end of my day when the anxiety really kicked up. If this really isn’t the medication, and experiments have shown it isn’t despite the coincidental timing of how it started after starting the medication, then I either have the worst case of perimenopause in the history of womankind or something really went wrong with my brain chemistry. I would still like to think that if worse comes to absolute worse, it will go away when he retires in half a decade but each year that I have this, I lose hope even though some things really can last for many years before they go away. The facial muscle twitches I had from the Navane lasted for decades. It’s been way better for the last few years or so. The thing is I don’t have that many decades left in the first place, which to me is kind of a good thing with all the problems I’m racking up.

I just read that researchers now believe that the brain firing too many neurons is what causes anxiety. But so late in life? That’s the part that seems the weirdest to me. Don’t you usually develop these things a lot younger? Depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, multiple personalities… Don’t those things usually start in the teens and 20s?

Placebo effect or not, an effect is an effect, so I compromised with myself. Instead of skipping my meds, I skipped the waiting time.

Anyway, I said there wasn’t a single good thing about aging other than the wisdom and maturity we acquire. Well, I was wrong. There is something good in it and that’s that each year that I live puts me one year closer to no longer having to deal with life’s bullshit. Can’t know if anything worse may be waiting for me on the other side if that other side exists, though.

I managed to sleep well last time around and dreamed of watching squirrels hatch from these eggs. I thought they were adorably cute and was telling Tom that I wanted to hug them.

Next thing I knew we were standing by the edge of a pond. There were several scattered ponds around us with gently sloping grassy fields running in between. There may have been a couple of other people around as well.

I watched how one of the squirrels jumped from the edge of the pond and flew into the middle of it.

Then I either thought of retiring or how we actually were retired. Not sure on that one but I think I was looking forward to when it would happen.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 15, 2019 Good to know Christiane wasn’t swallowed up by the Austrian avalanche after I messaged her, primarily in German. She said those people were “off the track.” She heard about the fires, too. Must’ve been an unwanted reminder of my existence for Nane, LOL.

Interestingly enough, my boobs aren’t as sore as they were before. It’s almost like my PMS is reversing itself. I still think I’ll get another period sooner or later, though.

My groin rash is driving me crazy. It’s definitely not connected to the LS. It’s more fungal or heat-related. They say body size doesn’t matter but somehow I get the feeling being so fucking fat doesn’t help. There’s simply no way I could ever lose weight and keep it off, though. I’m way past those days at this point. I would have to be seriously ill or have a disease with the opposite effect of Hashimoto’s.

Pussy itches every day, too. Without Tucks, I’d be clawing myself to death. Trying that on the groin but doubt it will help. Only hydrocortisone seems to really help but you’re not supposed to use that long-term. If I could, I could kill it and keep it away. As soon as I stop treating it, it worsens. How bad would it get, I wonder, if I never treated it at all?

Ended up being more anxious than usual yesterday but today I’m fine, thank God. I guess it was just because I hate that time of week. I hope that’s all it was, anyway!

I wish I could come up with fresh story ideas. I have the time for them and great tools at my fingertips yet no ideas come. The few that do, don’t last long and they’re basically spinoffs of the same old shit I usually write. Maybe I ought to take the beginnings of some of my stories and give them different endings.

I’m amazed that I slept well because my earbuds broke. Ordered a couple of cheap pairs for sleeping, one from the same company in red, and one from a different company in pink. They were both $12.

The only dream I remember was returning to a beach with Tom, Christine and maybe someone else. It seemed like we lived in the area. As I was walking from the car down to the beach, a boy of around 10 walked by and I thought he looked pretty tough for his age. I wondered if he could take me despite being shorter.

Then I headed toward the shore and stuck my toes in the water. I thought to myself how it had really warmed up in just the few days we were gone. I dove into a wave and found I didn’t surface as fast as I expected too, assuming I had gotten “caught in a swell.” Pretty sure I eventually broke through the surface. I seem to have a lot of dreams like that where I dive into a pool or an ocean and I can’t get back up. Or at least not when I think I will.

MONDAY, JANUARY 14, 2019 My bestie finished The Wrong Sister and liked it. :-) It’s always a pleasure to have her read my stories and I appreciate her pointing out some of the stupid mistakes I make too, LOL. Just sent her Renting Ginny. That was written once upon a time when I didn’t know the true meaning of the word anxiety.

When I feel borderline, I mark the calendar with a hollow circle which will be filled in solid on days I’m more than just borderline. I’m a little borderline now but I’m hoping that it’s just because it’s coming up to the start of the week. Sunday nights and Monday mornings are definitely my most hated time of the week.

Felt a little better after some pork chops and wine. I may need daily wine indefinitely. According to my research, a glass of wine a day shouldn’t hurt me. It can actually have benefits, especially red wine. It’s only if you drink heavily every day for a long time that you risk damaging your liver. I’ve never been drunk and I’ve never wanted to be. Just getting a buzz on is enough for me.

They raised the fairy I was going to get with my Bing points by $5 so I decided to hold off on it and see if they lower the price later on. For now, I’m going to get a few envelope openers since ours is getting blunt, and a new jewelry holder that will be more efficient. It consists of three separate T’s made of nickel and the tallest one is 19” high. What I like about this design is that I’d have a handy place for bracelets as well as necklaces. My carousel one is basically only good for necklaces. Some of the bracelets are too wide for the hooks.

Tom cut and placed pieces of cardboard around the sides and back of the guinea pigs’ cage to keep them from kicking shit out, and secured them with zip ties after punching holes in the tops of them. He also printed a couple of mini rakes to rake up anything they kick out in front so it doesn’t have to be vacuumed every day. We didn’t want to box them in too much because then we couldn’t see them and it would prevent good air circulation as well.

They’re definitely warming up to us more even though they’re still pretty skittish being prey animals as they are. They’re now taking food out of our hands. Blitz also seems to be growing faster than Rockefeller and now they seem similar in size. Even so, Rockefeller has been nibbling on Blitz’s ears, something they do to establish dominance like rats do their boxing thing that almost looks like they’re playing patty-cake.

Planes are moderately annoying tonight and Tom said that on and off there was loud traffic while I slept. Yeah, I don’t doubt it. Seems I might have heard something when either the earbuds slipped a bit or I had just gotten back into bed after getting up to pee.

This may look weird as hell but I took a spare pair of pantyhose and cut the legs off after tying a knot by the crotch. I’m going to use the top part of it as a hairnet, not only for my hair of course but for the MP3 player, too. Maybe if I bundle the wires and the player on the top of my head and then secure it with a net, I won’t get wrapped up in the wires so easily.

Starting to get a little crampy but I’m still not seeing red. Wish I would and just get the damn period over with so I can relieve the soreness in my boobies!

Had a dream where we lived in a house in which there were other identical homes along the street we lived on. We were getting ready to sell ours and I was worried that the outside sidewall just above a lower level (maybe above a garage?) was too damaged. I was at a neighboring house when I stepped back to see over the lower roof at the sidewall in that section which looked a lot like brown floorboards and said, “Beautiful,” as theirs was smooth and unmarked with nothing attached to it.

In another dream, I saw about half a dozen people I knew in a restaurant I was just “passing through”, including Becky H. I told them I wasn’t hungry and started to leave after greeting them until a waitress approached me saying they left me a meal as they too, left in the other direction. I sat down surprised and appreciative, gazing down at a plate of Alfredo and cheesy broccoli. I immediately suspected it was a present from Becky because she’s always been a real foodie.

In real life, she’s heavier than me and she definitely doesn’t work out or count calories, LOL. She doesn’t mind, though. She’s one of those who would rather live it up even if she may not live as long and may be inviting health problems along the way because of it.

I try to find a happy medium. I’m not going to stop exercising because I like the way it makes me feel and I like being as fit as I can be for my size and age. I’m also not going to stuff myself because I don’t like heartburn or want to open myself up to diabetes and higher cholesterol/blood pressure, but I’m also not going to set unrealistic goals and expect to get skinny and stay that way. I’m 53, not 23.

The dream I didn’t like was where I was thrown in some Mexican jail after mouthing off to some cop down there. Not sure what I said or how long I was to be in jail, but knowing that the wheels of justice likely turned much lower down there than they do here, I figured I would be there indefinitely. Therefore, I was contemplating not eating or drinking so I would die in just a couple of days or so. Not a fun dream at all. :-(

SATURDAY, JANUARY 12, 2019 Decided to post a random picture on my Twitter health account every time I take my vitamins so I know I’m not taking them too soon. If I forget if I’ve taken them, I can see if there’s a pic for the day and the time it was posted as well.

Went to Rite Aid for a few things and then we changed the pig’s cage and cleaned the fish’s filter and heater. The guinea pigs don’t have a circadian rhythm and will sleep a little, then get up, and back and forth. The fish definitely tends to be more active during the daytime, though.

It was a nice day today at 61° so we went for a brief walk when we got back from the store.

I haven’t had any chrome nail polish for centuries so I got a few bottles at Rite Aid in pink, blue and silver.

Now that they finally added some sound files to the Hawaiian course, I’ve taken three or four lessons so far and haven’t gotten any wrong yet. :-)

I also did Duolingo Stories in Spanish last night and German tonight and was surprised to beat my Spanish score if only by a little. Really didn’t think I would do that well with the German! Did I really learn that much of the ugly stuff? I guess I did, mostly thanks to Nane and a few others.

It’s been a surprisingly quiet day and night so far. Last night the planes were back to getting on my nerves. Not as bad as they were last year but they were getting there.

I don’t remember much in the way of dreams lately but it seems I woke up to a woman’s voice telling me something about great suffering ahead. She wasn’t speaking in a concerned tone either. She sounded menacing and evil. It creeped me out enough that it woke me up and I really hope it doesn’t mean anything. Haven’t had any anxiety today or yesterday so that’s good. I’m a little worried I might have a cavity by my bridge up top. No more crowns, though! If there is and she tells me it can’t be filled, I’m going to tell her to just pull the damn thing.

Signed up for a free month of Hulu and was glad to find two additional seasons of Law & Order SVU that I haven’t seen yet.

YES!!! Just got a message from my PCP saying that at this point she prefers me to continue with lifestyle changes instead of starting blood pressure medications. She said my blood pressure readings are good in the morning and she’s afraid with medication it may get too low and I may get dizzy. She concluded by telling me to just continue to check my blood pressure 2-3 times a week and bring the readings with my machine to my next visit.

I have absolutely NO problem with being told I DON’T need medication. NO problem, LOL.

I think I’ve now gone the longest I’ve ever gone without feeling even remotely horny. I miss those days. But they’re never coming back any more than my old figure or vision is so I suppose there’s no point in thinking much about it. It’s just part of aging. I think I’m just one of the few that would be more honest about it. I think women tend to be more open about these things while guys will tend to kid themselves and others. Or at least try to.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 11, 2019 My tits are getting sore and I know I’m going to get a period any minute now. Tits don’t lie. Been having backaches as well.

On the bright side, I’m happy to say I haven’t felt anxious today. I don’t know if this means anything or not, but when I first got up, I thought I might be in for a bad day. Shortly afterward, I sat down in a chair and after I did my tapping routine I said, “I don’t know if there’s a God up there but if you think you’re going to torture me with my own mind and body because there’s nothing else going on at the moment to whip my ass with, you’re wrong. Dead wrong. I’m done with this shit and I’m not going to take it anymore.”

Since then I’ve been fine. Is it good or bad, though, this nightly ritual where I have a little wine? And when I say “nightly ritual” I mean whenever I happen to be at the end of my day. I guess it can’t hurt. It’s just sparkling water spiked with hints of flavored wine. Only 5% alcohol as are wine coolers and spritzers. At least the ones I’ve had, anyway.

I’m also happy to say that they finally added some sound files to the Hawaiian course on Duolingo, although the course is still far from complete.

I slept shitty last night. Coincidentally or not, I forgot to put the bamboo plant on the headboard shelf before crashing. First I woke up just because and then the MP3 player died which I forgot to charge. So traffic woke me up several times, mostly the fucking garbage and green waste trucks. My ear was getting irritated from the earbud as well and to think that traffic is going to affect so much of my life for the next 20-something years makes me want to scream. Car stereos, yes, but traffic, for the most part, has never been an issue until I came to this fucking state.

Why do I always have to end up in the noisiest places and always get the flukes and extremes? What were the odds in Arizona that the house next door would be city-owned and rented to welfare bums? What were the odds that the duplex in Oregon would face the back of a duplex with a mother and daughter team going back and forth at all hours of the day and night? These are just a couple of examples, too. We just couldn’t have happened to end up on the other side of the circle or on a dead-end, could we? It wouldn’t exactly be peaceful there but it would be better than where we are.

My groin rash seems to be virtually immortal. Fortunately, it doesn’t itch that much because as soon as I get it under control it flares right back up. I’m tired of all these rashes I just can’t kill! The question is whether or not it’s lichen or fungal. It seems to be common regardless of body size. I know stress can make it worse and I was definitely stressed out yesterday and the day before when I learned my numbers.

Just when I was regretting the pigs and wondering how much of my lung tightness they could be responsible for, which I’m now pretty sure is connected to the weather changes and me being stressed out yesterday, they’re definitely warming up to me. Still probably always gonna give me a run for my money when I go to handle them but they’re definitely more comfortable sitting with me and don’t struggle as much as I’m picking them up.

What’s a little strange is how Rockefeller does all the talking. He was funny because as soon as he heard me come out of the bedroom when I got up early this afternoon, off he went. Blitz, on the other hand, is still pretty quiet. He’s not as brave as Rockefeller but he’s not as timid as he was before. These are probably the only noisy animals I enjoy and they don’t drive me crazy with their squeals and squeaks.

Along with cleaning the fish filter and heater which gets bits and pieces of debris trapped in the suction cups and other parts of them, we’re going to cut cardboard pieces to place at the sides and back of the pig cage so they can’t keep kicking out so much bedding and making a mess.

He’s going to be going to Sam’s Club tomorrow morning like he does every other Saturday. Sunday we’ll probably go out and pick up some things from Safeway. If not, we might go to Walgreens or Rite Aid or who knows where.

Watching a Netflix mini-series called Haunting. They’re said to be true stories but I have to wonder how they prove this. Either way, it still makes for good entertainment.

Been hearing way more planes tonight than I’ve heard so far this year. Please, please don’t tell me we’re going to go back to that shit! Just let me have my nights!

“You don’t think you’re fake?” someone asked me on Ask.

Hmm… Someone I’ve talked to that’s two-facing me? Someone who knows of me? Totally random?

I hope my friends really are my friends. Just can’t help but wonder if I blocked that person, would “that” person be Aly? She suspects Jase has been trolling her there so maybe it was him. People connected to Aly tend to be trouble. That’s why I hesitated to associate with Cam at first. They could turn on each other tomorrow and I could be trolled the next day. These days, though, it’d be much easier to shake him (or anyone else) off as I’m not nearly as public as I used to be.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 10, 2019 His Family:

Marge (the queen), his mother. She married Raymond who died in the mid-90s.

Ray, her oldest son has been dead for just over a decade. His wife was Nora. Kids: Pam, Jackie and Ryan. Grandkids: Jennifer.

David, her second child whom I forgot to mention in my VM. He’s married to Evie and they have a son and daughter, Parker and Nickolena.

Mary (Miss Perfect), her only daughter, married Dave.

Steven, her youngest. He married Carol and lives in the Fresno area. They have 2 sons, Matt and Chris.

Other relatives, mostly cousins, are Cindy, Johnny, Maria, Opal, Neva, Sandra, April, Bonita…

Find A Grave. It hit me all of a sudden yesterday that there was such a site and so I ran his mother’s name and found that Tom was right in suspecting she died years ago. Bitch died in February 2015 at the age of 91.

I finally decided it was time to give a few of his family members, without telling him about it, a piece of my mind. I was unable to locate Steven, Miss Perfect and Dave but I found several others, including David and Evie and their kids as well as Ryan and Jennifer. I sent them all the same message. I spoke from the heart and everything I said was 100% true too.

Here’s where it got strange. I immediately got a friend request from Jennifer and then Ryan. LOL. Jennifer and I even exchanged a few messages. I don’t think she had time to read my message before she replied but I don’t know how with it she is to begin with. She was just a little kid when we last saw her. Ryan is definitely mentally ill and has been on disability all his life.

Anyway, Jennifer asked where we were living now and I told her. Then she sent a friend request, saying she has a son now. Like I care? rolls eyes I told her no disrespect to her whatsoever (she didn’t do anything to us after all, and the only point of sending messages to multiple family members was to up my odds in at least one of them seeing it), but I couldn’t add her. I didn’t think to look up Sandra J, but I also found Cindy, Pam, Jackie, April and a few others that I’m pretty sure are related. The point is that once one sees it, the whole damn family will hear about it which is what I want. I especially want Miss Perfect to hear about it.

I went and blocked everyone I messaged.

The fact that no one in the family, especially Mary, never took the time to look us up and at least tell him that his shit of a mother died, tells me enough about them right there and stamps out any chance of me feeling any guilt for speaking my mind. He may not be reachable but I’m easy to Google and anyone can look me up on Facebook. All these years they could’ve reached out to us just to say, “Hello. How are you two doing?” but they never gave a shit. Ever.

I am seriously considering deactivating on Facebook for a number of reasons. I mostly have no need for it. There are only two more people I wouldn’t mind finding. But I don’t know Rosemarie’s last name, and if I haven’t found Steve by now, I’m not likely to ever find him. So what’s the point of keeping my account? To keep on seeing the same old political bullshit and food posts that only make me want to eat?

At the same time, I’m not sure I want to abandon everyone because I do have my cousin there and some Valleyhead sisters as well as a few good longtime cyber friends that might worry if I were to disappear.

I thought about telling Tom about the messages but I don’t want to worry him. I know how paranoid he gets at times. Personally, even if they all apologized, not that all of them owe us an apology, what would be the point in reconnecting? Tom doesn’t do social media and it would only be a matter of time before I would think they would want us to visit. Of course we would never step foot back in the state that did the horrible things it did to me, among other reasons.

The part in quotes is the message I sent.

“So Queen Marjorie died four years ago, I just learned, huh? The old me would wish her final moments were anything but kind to her but the present-day me feels nothing but contempt, disgust and even pity for a mother who chose to abandon her own son simply because he needed help one too many times. And after he did so, SO much for her while the rest of the family, excluding Mary and Dave, sat on their booties and did absolutely nothing. We lost thousands of dollars buying parts for all the projects Tom did for that woman at HIS expense. She always promised to “get him later” for it but later never came. The way that woman so easily and casually used anyone she could and then dumped them when she found them a “burden” or that she couldn’t benefit from them was utterly APPALLING but not nearly as appalling as her apparent conditional love and concern for her own son and his wife.”

Truly Spiked & Sparkling alcoholic beverages don’t taste that great but they warm me up and relax me. At least somewhat. I’ve really been on edge since learning my numbers that a part of me wishes I didn’t know what they were. Ignorance really can be bliss at times.

My lungs have been tight and I don’t know if it’s connected to the medication, the guinea pigs, the weather, or what. I just know I’ve been a bit more on edge these last couple of days and I worry that I’m on the verge of another vicious cycle of anxiety and will be at its mercy with absolutely no defense whatsoever. Once the adrenaline kicks up in my chest, I have never been able to find anything yet that will stop it. Not anything I do, take, eat or drink helps. I can calm a racing heart but I can’t kill those waves of anxiety once they start stabbing in and out of my chest. That’s when my thoughts tend to get dark and I start to feel hopeless. Like I said a million times, if there is any God up there that plans what happens to us or at least allows it to, what a cruel, torturous thing to do to someone!

Oddly enough, though, I felt better after 20 minutes of “ski blogging.” Plus, I’m having a little wine. Decided to ski blog since it’s been a while since I’ve skied and that way I don’t have to speak louder over the hum of the treadmill. Tom had just gone to bed, even though I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Especially lying close to an air cleaner that’s always running which would drown me out.

I’m also not happy that after being delayed a day - ONTRAC is always late probably because they couldn’t get in the gate - the guinea pigs are too small for the playpen. Fucking Rockefeller busted right through one of the squares. I forget that they’re skinnier than they look. All that thick soft fur makes them look fuller than they are. Rats can collapse their rib cages and maybe that extends to guinea pigs as well. Hopefully, when they’re full-grown it won’t be an issue. It’s a nice pen otherwise. Cut my hand setting it up, but am wearing the highest quality Band-Aid I’ve ever worn, LOL. It totally fits like a second layer of skin.

I love how they squeak when they hear me coming or they want lettuce, but I’m just sick of the scaredy crap I’ve had to deal with for the most part for over a decade now. When are we going to have a pet that runs to us instead of away from us? When??? The only one here that seems to truly like having me around is Butterboy. I totally believe without a doubt that if he could breathe the air and walk on four legs, he would definitely be happy to see me. He would probably follow me around the house and gladly sit with me. He’s a surprisingly friendly, alert and intelligent fish. He just has that air about him that says, “Hello there. Nice to see you” when I walk into the room.

The guinea pigs don’t mind being held but not without a fight first. From my experience and from what I’ve read in pet forums, it’s common for guinea pigs to run when you go to pick them up. But once you’ve got them securely held, they’re fine.

Still nothing from Campbell’s and now I wonder why they really wanted my address. I definitely don’t need coupons for their cans of plastic anxiety soup, so I wonder what they really had in mind. To try to sue me for bashing them? Good luck with that, Campbell’s.

I was browsing YouTube when I randomly stumbled across a video on water fasting. This woman claims she did it for 21 days and that the first couple of days she was hungry as hell and felt weak and cold. It’s not only supposed to be a quick way to lose weight but is supposed to be good for your skin and hair and detox your digestive system and things like that.

But I still see the same problem I see with any other diet. Once you start eating again, the weight returns. You pretty much have to live a good part of your life on a diet if you want to lose weight and keep it off. If you can do that, you’re amazing. If you can’t, you’re human.

The Revenge series was going slow, so I moved on to something else. Watched the movie The Strangers on Netflix and it was great.

Amazingly, I didn’t hear the loud car at all yesterday but just after dark it came in and left a few minutes later. Probably to pick up rent money or food from its enabling parents. So, so glad that at least the planes haven’t been driving me as crazy!

I was going to use my first Bubbly account for generic things and the second one for things I would rather Aly not hear if she’s checking every now and then but was unable to log into my original account. Personally, I’m not finding Bubbly much fun anymore, so I don’t know that I’m going to bother using either account.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 9, 2019 Went to the lab yesterday and was able to request Shannon. Took her a minute to remember me, but I slowly came trickling back into her memory as we chatted. She had no trouble drawing a vial from the crook of my elbow since I hadn’t just gotten out of bed with not enough time to guzzle water beforehand.

When I got up at 10:30, I took my meds, fed my pretty fishy and piggies, then found my lab results had been sent just 4 hours ago.

T4 - 1.4 (normal) TSH - 7.50 (slightly high) T3 - 3.2 (normal)

Call me emotional, dramatic and a bit immature, but I couldn’t help but burst into tears of both delight and dread when I saw the 1.4. I was surprised. I was expecting 1.3 and a TSH around 11.

It’s pouring now as we await the playpen.

LOL! I just got up, stepped into the hallway to comment to Tom in his office about how hard it’s pouring now, and Rockefeller heard me and “called” for me. At least I think it was him. Blitz is still quite reserved.

Ah, rain stopped as suddenly as it started but I can hear it rolling off the carport and patio roof now. Oh, here it goes again, just not as hard.

And that damn car? It came and went yesterday morning around 10, returning just minutes later to spend the entire day here. Didn’t leave till 8. Haven’t heard it since getting up so it’s probably here.

Just got called for a second serving. Damn, these things are serious lettuce whores! I forget just how much of the stuff they can inhale. Gotta double up on greens. They eat way more than rats.

Anyway, other than trying not to think about the inevitable return of my anxiety, even though the particular type that’s been plaguing me on and off for the last couple of years is now looking like it’s not connected to the medication, I messaged both doctors at 1 with my results. It didn’t take long for Dr. A’s to appear as “reviewed,” but Doc O hasn’t gotten to hers yet.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 8, 2019 Was reading someone’s journal on Prosebox that mentioned shopping online at Cannabis Cowboys. They’re in Canada and so is the site. They seem to have all kinds of things for all kinds of physical and emotional ailments, and while some of them seem interesting, I’m not sure I would have the guts to experiment with any of them. A glass of wine before bed is one thing but I would see this as medication with potential side effects. Plus, I can never know what may not be good to take with the medication I’m on although there really isn’t much that can’t be taken with Levothyroxine; just usually not at the same time.

I’ve also seen in Andy just how bad marijuana can fuck up one’s brain. If I think I have memory issues now…

Going to the lab in the late afternoon and worried about my results. Today was one of those days I woke up deciding my skin and hair were too soft for me to be that hypo. But then there are times I worry my TSH is still high because of how good I’ve been feeling with absolutely no skips in just over six weeks. I worry also because of the way 50s usually brings my TSH down to 16, not 33. So I’m afraid my thyroid might have died off some more which would mean that if it was in the teens I would have to up my dose which would absolutely terrify me. I have suffered so, so much on and off these last four and a half years that I don’t want to do anything that might rock the boat.

Each week that I go without anxiety, I wonder a little more if the Amberen may have had more of a hand in it than I realized. I only tried it because they claim it has no side effects and I only found one or two complaints of increased anxiety.

My HR spiked to 110 yesterday morning, but it was likely because I’d just gotten out of a hot shower. It’s been averaging between the high 70s and low 80s which is wonderful. :-)

I don’t think I’ve ever had pigs this timid before and I’m really starting to believe there is as much of a pet curse on me as there is a noise curse. Ever since losing Tinkerbell. I’m not sure I believe in the afterlife but it’s like she’s out there and she knew she was queen and is jealous of any furry pet that might steal my heart.

Ah, but Tinkerbell, sweetie, if you’re out there, you will always be my number one!

Seriously, this is just ridiculous! I’m surprised I haven’t been pissed or shit on as is common when rats get scared. Rockefeller does make happy talk when Tom reaches into the cage and pats him, so he definitely likes him. He’s getting a little easier to handle but they still act like we’re going to kill them when we reach for them be it to pat them or to handle them. At least they’re eating well. Tom said they were playing this morning before he left for work.

We ordered a playpen for them and some lattice balls with bells in them that cats play with. I’ve seen videos with guinea pigs playing with them and it definitely seems like something they would like if they could ever loosen up and get more playful. The playpen has panels to create a walled-off area. There is no floor to it. But this way they can have more space to run around an hour or so each day. It wouldn’t work for rats because a rat could just climb or jump right out of it. I thought this would be a good place to sit with them since I’m small and where they could play with the balls. Even though they have a good-sized cage, the balls would roll easier on the carpet than on their bedding in the cage.

We also restarted the bedding subscription but we’re only going to get one bail a month.

That loud car has come around every day without fail. Yesterday they were only here once and for 15 minutes but still, why can’t this loser visit his parents once a week like most people?

Just when I think the planes are going to start driving me crazy again, I only end up hearing a few. I wasn’t up that late last night, though, and I’m sleeping in the early mornings so they could be worse than I know. I’ll find out soon enough if they’re back to being as annoying as usual.

Started my 8th book since joining KU. Definitely going to stock up on Willow Rose books after reading the few I downloaded after catching up on the Jon Athan books I wanted to read.

Started Revenge last night which is an eight-book set and is estimated to take nearly 46 hours to read. It’s about a black girl (I guess I’m a hypocrite for pointing out her race, LOL, which I hate when others do) who gets gang-raped by 10 rich white guys. She goes to medical school so she can seek revenge without leaving a trace. Definitely my kind of book as I love revenge stories.

Last night I had another one of those Valleyhead reunion dreams. I was showering before dinner in a community bathroom with several toilet and shower stalls. I chatted with Marie briefly after getting dressed and placing a couple of strange dolls in a chest or a box. Then I quickly texted someone and headed in search of the dining room. I asked this guy for directions to the dining room and he started giving me a hard time about it. I said something like, “Yeah, yeah, just tell me where it is.”

But then I found it on my own. It looked like a nice restaurant more so than a dining room. They had large tables and long booths with regular waitresses.

I saw people I recognized, including Kate Jackson, who was still young and hot. On one side of the booth sat three or four people with fewer people being on the side Kate was on. Those on the more crowded side were figuring out how to make room for me when I said, “Maybe I just won’t eat.”

But then someone suggested I sit by Kate, so I happily slid in next to her. Kate hugged me and gave me a kiss on the top of my head and I thanked her for being there for me earlier. I guess we had a private chat and I was grateful to her for it.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 6, 2019 Stumbled across an article on why the Keto Diet is worthless, and I agree. There are no magic foods or food combinations for weight loss, otherwise most people would be thin. It’s all about calories and I’m way past the point in life where my calorie intake has to be so low that I just couldn’t stand it short-term let alone indefinitely. Even if I could be 30 pounds lighter at the snap of my fingers, I’d never be able to keep it off. I’d rather just use common sense, keep active, and accept my aging body as it is and as it was meant to be. As long as I’m not severely obese, I’m okay with myself and with not trying to be something I’m not meant to be.

Finished watching Inside the World’s Toughest Prisons. While I’d hate to be in prison anywhere, Norway is the place to be if you have no choice. They’re single-man prison cells are like hotel rooms and the place isn’t filthy and overcrowded like in Costa Rica, for example. The prisons have no bars, have their own supermarket, you can’t get anything longer than a 21-year sentence, and the staff is encouraged to be friendly with the prisoners. Their attitude is that if you treat people like animals, you get an animal and that’s what you’ll be releasing back into society someday, and I totally agree. I mean sure, some people are born animals no matter how much dignity and respect you treat them with, and I personally wouldn’t like the idea of my murderer living in such a nice prison and being treated with the same kindness you’d treat a guest in a hotel with, but they definitely have a point. It’s why most abusers were abused, after all. People do tend to follow the examples set for them.

They also believe it’s pointless to make their punishment any rougher because being there in the first place is punishment. Right on again. Back when I was in jail I wished they would just let me do my damn time, even though I knew I didn’t deserve five minutes of it, and quit with all the bullshit along the way like the deliberately cold showers, cellmate shuffling, and barely edible food.

“We don’t want to make it fun for anyone,” one male DO had said.

Oh. You mean just being forced to be there and away from our homes, loved ones and pets were supposed to be “fun” by itself?

On the 4th episode of You and liking it very much. I was wondering when Joe was finally going to kill Benji and kind of hoping he would too, LOL. Didn’t care for the uncalled-for and unnecessary comment about Benji being the so-called “poster boy for white privilege.” You know, the one that doesn’t exist in 98% of the country? Do they realize just how offensive such comments are to those of us who have personally been victims of reverse discrimination? And yeah, there are more of us than anyone wants to believe.

Why do people have to refer to one’s color in the first place anyway? I’m tired of race always having to be pointed out whether it’s black or white. Can’t we just say “a person” or “a woman” or the person’s name and leave it at that? Really, enough with the race references! My husband’s name is Tom. Oh, he’s white, BTW. Now, did I really have to point that out? Is it necessary that people know that as if his color somehow defines who he is as a person?

Guinea pig update: The pigs are continuing to be super timid and I really hope I didn’t make the wrong choice when picking them out. I’m seriously coming to wonder if I’m meant to have timid animals as much as I’m meant to live in noisy places. It seems so. I just can’t catch a break when it comes to pets! The damn fish is way braver than they are for God’s sake, but the fish isn’t a warm, soft cuddly animal. In this state, only Tinkerboy and Sugar were friendly and sociable, then Sugar had a stroke. Hopefully, they’ll come around a little more, but I don’t know. Rockefeller was more curious today and started to come up to me, but he would quickly chicken out. They’re not quite taking food out of my hand but they started nibbling on some hay and lettuce as soon as I put it in the cage earlier today.

We had to run out and get a couple of roller bottles because these idiots were overdoing the swivel heads and wasting water when they’d get drinks.

Earlier we ran out to Safeway and got some things for them as well as stuff for us during what’s been a very wet and windy weekend. Let’s just say I haven’t had to deal with landscaping and motorcycles but just some loud traffic. Still, I wish I could jump in Butterboy’s tank and have my world be 78°, too!

Stage 1 is in the lead once again at 6 to 5. It might be a tie again when I do my end-of-the-day BP reading.

Aly’s other Twitter account is public again and Molly keeps changing handles.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 5, 2019 After waking up feeling a bit PMSy based on a little bit of soreness in my boobs, a couple of extra pounds in what seems to be water, and increased hunger along with a few scattered backaches, two little piggies went home.

We arrived at Petco as soon as it opened to increase our chances of them having guinea pigs in stock. The first two we looked at appeared to be brave and full of pep. They were munching on hay while “popcorning,” something guinea pigs do when they’re happy. I liked their colors but didn’t like that they were mostly hairless. I’ve never liked hairless animals of any breed. Even though they seemed to have great personalities, no one wants to have an ugly pet. Or at least what they personally don’t find pleasing to the eye.

Nearby were a couple of much-shyer American guinea pigs with the short fur I wanted. They were hiding in their burrow and weren’t too thrilled to be fished out of their tank but I have had some guinea pigs start off on the shy side that warmed up to me within a week or so. So hopefully I didn’t make a mistake in choosing appearance over personality. They have nice soft fur and one is a little older than the other. One has a mix of brown and white while the other has black and white with some brindle mixed in. They’re both males and were $40 each.

We got some vitamin C drops for their water as well as some chew toys, hay, and regular food. They’re on the top part of the cage. If they seem to be able to get up and down from the upper shelf, then I might open them to the lower level as well. Some reports say climbing ramps is good exercise for them while the guy in the store said that multi-levels aren’t good for them because they can’t bend their backs in the way rats can, and that much is true. They’re not nearly as flexible as rats. However, I think they can maneuver the ramps but definitely not climb the walls like rats can.

Unable to come up with names for them I picked their names using a random pet name generator. So the little guy is Blitz and the bigger guy is Rockefeller. I’m letting them get settled in while periodically going into the living room to pat them and sometimes pick them up. They’re still very timid and Rockefeller screamed at me once, LOL.

Lots of rain and wind today, especially wind. It’s just cold and miserable overall and I really wish we were someplace warm! We’re enjoying our time together, though, and just hanging out doing this and that. We replaced some of the betta’s water and now we’re doing our own thing.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 4, 2019 I am so SO fucking sick of the loud Subaru visiting not once but twice a day. You may as well live here if you’ve got to see your parents that often. I wish to hell this attention whore of a cock would get in an accident and total the fucking thing! I really do. For 3 fucking years now I have listened to this thing come and go hundreds of times and I’ve had enough! I know, though, that no matter where I lived there would always be some source(s) of annoyance. For the 5-6 more years we’re here, there’s no way this little fuck will give up that car, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more motorcycles each year.

Another thing I was surprised to hear after so long was Bob sawing but fortunately, it didn’t last long. Really hope he doesn’t go back to that shit on a regular basis. Just because we’ve been neighbors for over half a decade and have come to know and like each other doesn’t mean I want his noise penetrating the walls of our place. I don’t push my noise on him.

Almost done watching the complete collection of Forensic Files. Think I’ll try this Bird Box next that everyone’s been raving about. Plus, there are new episodes of Inside the World’s Toughest Prisons and I want to get back to You as well.

My HR has been amazingly low whenever I take my blood pressure, ranging between 75-81. Usually, I’m 85 or higher. I asked Tom if I should be worried and he said that when I usually check my HR, it’s because it’s high, so I’m probably like this more often than I realize. I sure feel good! I dread the day the anxiety returns but it always does so I know this calmness won’t last forever.

BP and HR readings so far… Systolic, diastolic, HR:

Jan 03, 2019. 02:06 PM 132 83 77 Jan 03, 2019. 02:19 AM 122 85 77 Jan 02, 2019. 12:27 PM 135 85 78 Jan 02, 2019. 12:13 AM 129 90 80 Jan 01, 2019. 10:35 AM 145 83 81 Jan 01, 2019. 01:05 AM 129 81 76

Not liking how there’s a sticker on my new medication bottle saying it’s the same medication I’ve been taking. The last time I saw that sticker was when they gave me the JSP brand and a week later I was anxious as hell which was just too coincidental. Yet I don’t see anything different. Still looks like Sandoz. Same shape and I’m pretty sure it’s the same color too.

Last night’s guinea pig-hunting dream wasn’t very promising. I would prefer an American guinea pig for its short hair. But in the dream, I went to the bathroom in this pet store and then returned to find the guy who worked there chatting with Tom and holding a box with two Abyssinians that were very light gray in color with some white. I asked if he had any Americans and Tom said, “I asked him that.”

The guy said he did but I’m not sure what he said next.

The planes haven’t been bad this morning but the loud car has already made its first of 2 or 3 trips in. Who the hell not only visits their parents this often but at 7:15 in the morning? So yeah, I think they’re doing some work for them because how else can the cock support himself?

Later…

Turns out that Virginia did have a heart attack when they took her away in the wee hours of Christmas Eve. She’s been in rehab ever since and is expected back home Monday. Bob said a guy was coming to install handlebars in the shower.

Poor thing! How sad and scary. Makes me definitely rethink getting old once again.

Christiane replied to my message wishing her a happy New Year. She said she’s going skiing in the Austrian Alps. Now let’s see her surprise me with a message for once, but you know what? I’m sure I’ll never hear from her again as long as I don’t message her first, and I can’t see myself doing that again in the future. Like I said, my one and only New Year’s resolution is to ditch the one-sided friendships and ignore those who don’t want anything to do with me.

What else is going on in the neighborhood? Not as much landscaping today but the loud car was here for 3 hours and I’m guessing it’s going to return any minute. I really need to try my influencing thing or some kind of spell to get rid of them. While I certainly wouldn’t want it to kill them, they need to be incapacitated for a while. Totaling the car wouldn’t do much good because someone that desperate to be heard and noticed is just going to turn around and replace it with something just as loud. I’m sure their parents will be happy to help too, as they seem to enable them to live such a slacker lifestyle to begin with.

I was looking at affordable, or at least hopefully affordable, waterfront mobile homes along Florida’s coast. It’s definitely going to be hard to get something in our price range that isn’t too old, too small or both. I would prefer to look out over the ocean but there are other water views that would be pleasant to see from a lanai or something like that with canals and lakes. It’s Florida, so there’s water everywhere. Don’t know for sure that that’s the state we’ll end up in but that would be my guess.

Went through some of my collectibles today and will definitely be getting rid of some older pieces. Cheap little plastic pieces and pieces that are chipped or broken or that I’m just sick of. Twinkle, my 22” fairy elf is now in the trash as I’ve definitely had enough of her after 15 years or so. 17 years, to be exact. Just checked my old journals. Funny as I got her almost 17 years ago to the day. Definitely a cheap, poorly made doll but she served her purpose. I removed her outfit before dumping her which wasn’t her original one but something I got from the Goodwill. Hillary can wear it and probably a couple of other dolls too. Not sure I really want to get rid of much of my collection unless I had to but I don’t expect to display most of it in the next place, wherever it is. I’ll just store them in plastic bins.

Tom is going to prep the cage when he gets home in case we do find a guinea pig or two tomorrow, and I sure hope we do! The trays, which are a bit big and bulky for me to handle, need to be hosed down. I attached the water bottles and a spare hammock. At the store, we gotta get hay, GP food, vitamin C drops, and wood chews.

Whenever we find one, I really hope it’s friendly and not timid. The thing is that guinea pigs tend to run and try to hide when you go to pick them up from their cage even long after they’ve gotten to know you and seem to be quite comfortable when they’re hanging out with you. Piggles in Phoenix used to do that and I found it annoying, and as funny as this may sound, it was also a bit insulting. I couldn’t help but take it personally after treating him like a king. Same with the last trio of rats. They were constantly acting like I was regularly beating the shit out of them. I do miss some guinea pig traits, though, like their happy chatter when being patted, squeaking for food…

THURSDAY, JANUARY 3, 2019 Heard a couple of planes this morning but nothing major yet. I’m sure they’ll be in full swing again soon enough just like I’m sure that loud car will zoom by the house in about three hours. They’ve got to be working for their parents somehow. They obviously don’t have any other job yet someone’s got to be paying for wherever they’re living, their cigarettes, and that fucking car.

While rats are the cutest and the smartest of the rodents, I don’t have the energy most days to give them the attention they demand and there are no guarantees that I’m ever going to get my energy back to where it was. It’s a fact of aging… Weight and blood pressure go up, energy goes down. Still hoping the blood pressure medication will give me more energy, whenever I start it, but I can’t know that for sure.

Mice, hamsters and gerbils may be cute but they’re out of the question because they’re messy, smelly and stupid.

Okay, that makes five planes in less than an hour and I’ve had enough, so on goes the air cleaner. Will probably ask Alexa to have sleep sounds play a random background sound as well since traffic, mowers, blowers and other shit is going to start in about an hour anyway. Just asked her. She chose “Fountain.”

As I was saying before I was distracted, due to lack of energy for rats and not finding much good other than having something cute to look at in mice, hamsters and gerbils, I was thinking of getting my second favorite breed of rodent which I’ve had many of, just not for a long time - guinea pigs! Not sure if we’ll get one or two but we’re going to check out some stores this weekend.

I’m already getting excited about the idea! I thought a guinea pig might be nice because they don’t require as much energy and attention but they’re smarter and more sociable than mice, hamsters and gerbils. They have some traits about them that are both better and worse than rats. They make better cuddle buddies compared to the very animated rat, but they shed way worse than rats which is part of why I prefer short-haired guinea pigs like the English or American guinea pig. I’ve had Abyssinians and Peruvians and while they may be cute, I would still prefer not to get a long-haired guinea pig. The fur gets tangled, and their turds and bedding can get matted in it as well. I kind of miss the sounds they make, too. I work far enough from where the cage is so their screaming wouldn’t bother me. They don’t usually scream unless they’re hungry anyway.

As long as we don’t get one that’s overly lazy like the last one we had, it should be able to climb the ramps to the upper levels of this cage easily enough. They just couldn’t climb the walls of the cage the way rats can. They don’t have the agility and the thinner bodies rats have or tails to help with balance.

So I thought a guinea pig would be a good compromise considering my current energy levels. It would also probably be gone by the time we moved.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 2, 2019 Ran out to Walgreens yesterday and it was just a degree above freezing. I’d kill to be in Hawaii or Florida or someplace warm now! I’d especially kill to live in this particular spot I noticed when looking at Google Maps at the park my parents lived in which I visited twice in my twenties. I wasn’t kidding when I said they lived high off the hog while I struggled, once having to steal tampons just to plug up my fucking bleeders.

My parents’ old place is in an absolutely gorgeous location, and some of the homes have spectacular views of the ocean. There was this one spot I would kill for because it’s not only at the end of a dead-end, but you have woods on one side and the ocean on the other. Being on a dead end doesn’t always do you much good if you’ve got a busy street running behind you. The street in front of us and on the side gets a moderate amount of traffic but the one in back gets an enormous amount. The park they lived in is also much smaller than this one so you’re not going to have as many residents, delivery trucks, visitors and caretakers coming and going. You also don’t have as much landscaping noise because they don’t have trees that lose leaves and make a mess as we do here and they pretty much mow everyone’s grass almost all at once. Here it’s up to each individual owner to take care of their own lot. There, the residents mostly only care for things like if they want to plant a rose bush outside their bedroom window or something like that. Even garbage day would be so much quieter there! Because I’m in the middle of such a maze, I have to listen to them wind in and out of so many circles, streets and dead ends. There they would just come and go like everywhere else I’ve ever lived.

When I would be at the beach at our summer cottage in Old Lyme, Connecticut which was just six cottages from where the sand starts on Breen Avenue, I would look across Long Island Sound and wonder exactly what was out there on the New York side about 10 miles away. Well, thanks to Google Maps, I could actually look and see and finally settle that curiosity. I could have done this years ago but only thought of it last night. So I looked and found out. There’s a lighthouse across the way and also some houses which it’s definitely safe to assume that only rich people can afford. There’s a place called Plum Island too, that few people if anyone seems to live on. I guess they mostly do animal research there.

What’s amazing is how much everything looks the same at the beach. The cottages haven’t changed much and I was surprised to find the vacant lot diagonally across the street from our cottage still vacant. I would have thought they’d have built something on it by now.

Anyway, I would LOVE to end up at the end of a dead-end with only one neighbor but I know that’s just a dream. It’s like something up there totally wants me to be in the middle of as much chaos as possible but like it or not, I’m used to noisy places and if that’s what’s as meant to be as it sure seems to be, then that opens up a lot of options for us since 98% of the places would be noisier than that dead end. Who knows, though? If we were suddenly in a place like that and I really am as cursed with noise as I’ve suspected I’ve been for a million years now, then whatever is cursing me would just have some insanely loud boats or planes going by all of a sudden for me to have to listen to. Also, even if we could afford it, there’s no guarantee that the place we want would be for sale to begin with. I would still take a fifty-year-old place in that spot rather than a brand-new one in the middle of a circus. It would be so ideal! We’d be so much more out of the way of things yet wouldn’t have to drive 45 minutes to get to civilization. Yesterday was pretty quiet but I’m sure I’ll be in for tons of landscaping and traffic today. So my noise-canceling headphones will definitely get used.

I would always totally support anyone who wanted to go on a diet and all that, and from what I’ve read on Prosebox, it seems the top two New Year’s resolutions are to either quit smoking or to lose weight, especially to lose weight. To each their own but I still don’t see the point in nearly killing myself for such minimal results that are only going to come undone in no time. I just can’t see myself having 1000 calories or less every day indefinitely and then not being able to eat much more in order to keep the weight off. I’ve learned through time that striving to be healthy is much more important than being skinny. Even Nurse Jennifer pointed out that the numbers on the scale aren’t exactly an indication of one’s health and she’s right. I’d rather keep my 30 extra pounds and just eat sensibly (and enough) and keep active. That way I shouldn’t gain any more. Most older people are heavy for a reason, though. If they could just lose it and keep it off, they would.

I misunderstood how the live health site works. I thought I could talk to a therapist instantaneously if I was alone when a panic attack hit but no, you still have to schedule an appointment. You can talk to a medical doctor right away but not therapists.

Tom reminded me that it’s totally up to me whether or not I want to schedule a video therapist appointment, see Stacey, or not see anyone at all. He insists I don’t worry about the time and money.

I think for now I’m just going to schedule the shrink later on this morning and forget about the therapist, video or not. I honestly don’t see what more they can do. As Dr. O said, I can’t just “talk this out.” The anxiety. They’ll always be there if I change my mind later on. Right now I’m just dreading the day the anxiety returns. I’m also worried about my upcoming lab results. This Friday will be 6 weeks on 75s, and even though how I feel is what matters most, I worry about my numbers being too high. It would make me anxious just seeing my T4 hit 1.4, but at the same time, I’m worried my TSH is still high.

Just scheduled the shrink appt. I think it’s pretty sad that it takes 8 fucking months to see one. I expected April or May, not August 29th.

I created a second Bubbly account since I ended up regretting telling Aly about it since I have no way of knowing if she’s curious enough to follow me there. Especially since I’ve learned that if you’re not logged in it won’t trigger the listen counter. The funny thing is that when I got the welcome email, I was the first of three people it recommended I listen to, LOL. These days I prefer people only to know what I tell them directly and I feel like I can speak more freely with this other account. There’s always the chance that Aly or Kim could be browsing users and happen to recognize my voice since I’m not using colorful pictures they would normally associate me with. If they do, though, they do. Until then, although I may never know if they do discover it unless they tell me, I feel like I can be more open.

Open about people like Aly. It’s quite a coincidence that while she says she no longer feels a need to protect tweets on the Twitter account we’re connected on, she goes and protects her other account. Now, why do I have a feeling it’s because she knows I’m following her there? She probably didn’t do it as soon as I slipped with the band name I shouldn’t have known cuz she figured that’d appear too obvious if she did.

Fine, let her say nasty shit about me that she doesn’t have the guts to tell me face-to-face in a manner I don’t see it in. Still wonder if I’m one of the ones she was considering toxic and in need of getting rid of, and while I prefer us to remain friends, if she dumps me, she dumps me. There won’t be a third reconciliation, though, if she does. She hasn’t given me any indication that she’s back to considering me as “not having anything to offer as a friend” or “bringing her down,” but she doesn’t always say what’s on her mind either. We haven’t been arguing about anything but who knows what she’s thinking? All I know is that if I’m making any New Year’s resolution at all, it’s that I resolve not to bother with those who don’t want to bother with me. You dump me, you lose me forever. End of story. And no looking up and reaching out to people from 20-30 years ago to say hi that never do the same to me. Let’s see someone else look me up for a change!

Tracking my blood pressure on ccctracker.com/aha and it seems to be an easy and convenient tool that even Tom created an account to track his as well. I like the way it also lets me record my amazingly good HR lately, and highlights the numbers with different colors, depending on if you’re normal, elevated, stage 1, stage 2, or in crisis. I can also create a PDF file to print copies for my doctor in March.

Had a dream involving a couple of younger ladies and I’m guessing I was young, too. Many of us, including myself, were suddenly displaced due to an apartment building either closing down or becoming inhabitable for some reason. A flaky girl with hot pink hair promised to let me stay with her before some kind of event that was going on that night. Not sure if it was a holiday or maybe it was just Saturday night and everyone was in a partying mood. It seemed like we were at some kind of outdoor mall. The weather was cold and crisp and there were many shops and eateries that people were milling in and out of.

I eventually lost track of the pink-haired girl who was supposed to give me a place to stay and ended up talking to a quieter, more conservatively dressed blond girl who said I could stay with her if the pink girl didn’t come through. I was so grateful that I promised to clean her place and give her a foot or back massage anytime she wanted. She didn’t say anything to that though I got the feeling that she liked me and was almost glad the pink girl wasn’t likely to make good on her word.

Deciding to make one last-ditch effort to locate the pink girl and find out what was going on, I told the blonde girl I would check this particular store out and then let her know if I could learn anything.

The blonde girl thought she should be the one to go in and see if she could find out any information, thinking the pink girl would be more likely to be more honest that way. She asked me for my favorite kind of gum as an “excuse” to enter the store.

I guess pink girl must have bailed because next thing I knew I was in the passenger seat of the blonde girl’s car as she drove down a dark and nearly deserted street.

Again I thanked her, saying it would have been too cold to be homeless that night.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 1, 2019 Citrus Heights, CA Age: 53

It’s been wonderful starting the new year off without all the damn planes but I’m sure they’ll be back in a day or so. Especially if it wasn’t just a holiday thing. I don’t know, maybe they built another airport closer to us. I’ll find out soon enough because they’ll be back at it late tonight or early tomorrow morning if it wasn’t just about the holidays.

Saw Nurse Jennifer yesterday and she wasn’t the one I thought I was going to be seeing. She’s an Asian woman I haven’t seen around the place before. Saw a couple of other nurses I recognized since I’ve been there 50 million times already but this is the first time I’ve seen Jennifer. She was a nice lady. She too, weighs about what I weigh and doesn’t look it because she’s active and fit.

She looked at my beautiful spreadsheet with my not-so-beautiful numbers and agreed my morning numbers aren’t too bad but my afternoon and evening numbers are high. Anything over 140 is worrisome and I have a lot of readings in the 140s-150s. 120/70 is optimal, 130/80 is our goal, but 140/90 is definitely high.

She gave me a sheet of paper with tips on reducing blood pressure and the best way to take BP readings, most of which I already knew.

I asked if high blood pressure could be causing my fatigue and dizziness and she said it definitely could because the heart has to pump harder which makes you tired, and because things can’t circulate properly, this can leave you dizzy. I could also have issues with the crystals in the inner ear.

The doctor, who won’t be back until Wednesday, must have known I would be coming in with shitty numbers because she decided I should go on a low dose of lisinopril. Tom was with me and he had forgotten the name of the blood pressure medication he was on before losartan that caused him to cough all the time. But as soon as he heard the name, he knew that was the one that made him cough. I’m so glad I took him in there with me! Jennifer did confirm that coughing is a side effect of lisinopril.

So I asked if I could try losartan instead since Tom hasn’t had any problem with it. He’s actually on the 2-in-1 that has a diuretic along with the BP medicine. I told her I had a medication phobia and that while it would be scary either way, it wouldn’t be as scary if I tried that instead. She said she saw it listed that I have a medication phobia.

She’s going to run it by the doctor and I’m guessing she won’t have any problem with trying me on losartan. Really REALLY hope it helps with my fatigue and dizziness!!! Polly said it helped hers and she’s been on blood pressure medication for years. It’s just that I woke up tired and dizzy, as I do most days, and my blood pressure was almost normal at that time. So does that mean there is no connection or what? I guess I’ll find out soon enough but not until the end of the week.

Wasn’t impressed with Excel or Google Docs spreadsheets so I made my own in Word and will be keeping a record of just my morning and nighttime readings.

For now, I’m going to enjoy the 77 days that I’ll be appointment-free!

[whisperprime]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Interlude | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Hob blinks into awareness, staring at a blank wall.

A blank wall that should have a door in it.

He turns, putting his back to the offending wall. Takes in what appears to be his flat, at first glance. It gives him the surreal feeling that everything that had come before - Dream showing up, their talk, the offer to fix his ankle - had been the dream, rather than what he was currently experiencing.

Upon a second glance, he can pick up on the things that are out of place, like the pleated coat he’d bought back in the 15th century hung on the coat rack or the claymore he was still mourning the loss of mounted over a couch he definitely wouldn’t be buying again this go around.

Littered through out the flat are also things that didn’t exist yet - if they ever came to exist in this new timeline, such as a cellphone that made the iPhone 14 look like a MicroTAC Ultra Lite or the 22nd century style coat hung up next to his pleated one.

For a moment, he feels nostalgic for the time period he had left behind when he agreed to take up the Herald’s mission. He misses the friends he never got the chance to say goodbye to. Misses the advancements in technology. Is glad he doesn’t have to worry about missing the latest medical advancements.

Oh, what a world they were heading into. He looked forward to not only meeting it again, but also to experiencing it in new ways he hadn’t the first time.

There’s the feeling of displaced air, of a shift, that Hob has begun to attribute to something entering the dream with him, that tips off that he has company. Leaving the room to itself, Hob shifts his attention to Dream, who is peering at a future piece of technology that won’t exist for another 110 years.

What is it like to be a creature existing in the now while also retaining knowledge of things that existed in the tomorrow, he wonders. What strange things might this Endless being have seen that now only exists in the memories of those who have walked times that no longer make up their existence? What did time travelers bring to the collective unconsciousness?

Hob puts a pin on those thoughts before they can carry him away. He may have been improving when it came to lucid dreaming, something that was far easier at the moment with Dream being there, but it was still far too easily to get distracted and lose the thread on things. “It’s done?”

Dream pulls himself away from the cell phone, turning to meet him. Here, in his domain, Hob is struck once again by how much more substantial he is. His eyes, usually blue in the Waking world, are their more natural reflection of the cosmos.

“Yes. You might feel sore in the morning, but the bone was set back correctly.”

Oh, to be able to walk without the feeling of bone not sitting correctly. He could not wait.

Near bouncing on his feet, Hob turns back to the blank wall. He places one hand on his hip, while the other goes to his chin as he debates his dilemma. “I might need your help, dove.” He points at the wall with the hand that had been on his hip. “I’ve gotten decent at controlling my dreams, but I never got the hang of changing them.”

Dream steps up beside him, intrigued. “You were not a lucid dreamer in the past. When did you learn?”

“It’s a recent skill.” Well, ‘recent’ if one took into account that Hob has roughly 379 years worth of lived experience that Dream knows very little about. “It took way longer than I thought it would to get even to my current level. I’m jealous of those it comes freely too.”

He gets a thoughtful nod. “Everyone who sleeps experiences it differently. The only thing they have in common is that they dream at some point in their lives.”

Hob has always wondered: “Do you sleep?”

Dream is silent in a way that Hob knows that he’s weighing whether or not to tell him something. He’s a little shocked when he gets, “No. The closest thing for me is unconsciousness.”

Another thought to put a pin in.

Not wanting the conversation to take a darker turn - they are supposed to be having a bit of a dinner date, even if they’re not calling it that - Hob forces himself to face the wall. “I know the place I’d like to go, but I don’t know how to get there. Any suggestions?”

A considering silence, this time. “Emotional attachment can help shape dreams.”

Hob suddenly remembers that he has, just once, changed a dream before, although he hadn’t been trying to do it on purpose. Remembers the brief flash of The Wake during his revisit of the 1889 dream right after the seal broke. 

Dream tilts his head down to make eye contact, and Hob suddenly realizes that Dream is taller than him at the moment. “Does this place have any such attachment for you?”

Hob closes his eyes and imagines the place he’d like to go. Feels the tug of it, like a call home. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

He feels cool fingers wrap around the hand that had still been pressed to his hip. Nearly opens his eyes, until he hears, “Hold the image of the place in your mind.” His hand is guided out until he feels those fingers wrapping his hand around a door knob that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Let the attachment be the thread to guide you to where you want to go.”

Holding tight to the image, Hob turns the knob and pulls on the door. When he opens his eyes, there before him is the New Inn. But it isn’t a version from any specific era, nor is it the one he’s trying to build back in the Waking, although it might be close. 

Here, in this dream, it is more the concept of the place than an imagining of the real thing. The hopes, new and old, he’s poured into it. What it was and what he wants to it be again. His hands itch with the desire to pick up a hammer and attempt, perhaps in vain, to try and make it a reality.

Remembering he isn’t alone, Hob uses his free hand to indicate that Dream should enter first. “After you, dove.”

Dream pauses in the door way much the same way he had when he’d entered the New Inn in the Waking world. He looks back at Hob over his shoulder, briefly, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, before he turns back and passes through the door.

Hob follows behind him, coming to walk beside him as they enter the seating area. In the Waking, the New Inn would be full of tables and booths if it was this far along. Here, in this place that Hob has imagined just for the two of them, is just a single bar stool up against a more richly colored version of the real bar table.

“Feel free to take a seat, if you’d like.” Hob points over his shoulder to the double doors that should lead to the kitchen. “I shouldn’t be too long with the food.” 

Dream eyes the seat for a moment, before he shakes his head. “I should like to come with you.”

Hob feels the phantom sensation of sweat down his neck. This is hardly the first time someone will have watched him cook before, but there’s a certain level of stakes here that he hasn’t felt since that one time he had the Queen over. Higher, even.

He covers it up with his usual bravado, offering a welcoming smile and a ‘follow me’ as he heads for the kitchen.

He hadn’t ever given any heavy thought to what he might make Dream if he ever had him over for dinner. Even if he had, food in the Dreaming was different than anything in the Waking world. In the Waking world, the quality of the ingredients and the skill of the chef determined the taste of the food.

In the Dreaming, food was more memory and emotion. To feed someone in the Dreaming was to share with them an experience and to pour it into being.

Hob had only shared a meal once with the Other Dream, but he hoarded that memory like a dragon hoards it’s most precious gold.

Doing this prods a little at that loss, but it feels like pressing on a bruise that will always be worth the hurt to have gained the experience. 

Without it, he would never be able to do what he was doing now. To share this gift with any of the knowledge that give in the full impact of the thought that went into it.

It is with this in mind, that he lets the doubts fall away and gets to work. The kitchen, as it can only in a dream, has everything he needs. The dish itself is simple, but still something he’d feel comfortable feeding a king. He preps the venison with the curiosity he felt during their first meeting. Preps the vegetables with the trepidation he’d felt going into their second meeting. Spices the venison with the love he’d newly discovered going into their third meeting. The vegetables are sauteed with the light that was the remembrance that he had someone waiting for him going during their fourth meeting. Roasts the venison with the wonder he’d felt at the end of the their fifth meeting and the empathy he’d felt for the loneliness he’d felt himself during their sixth meeting.

Food finally cooked, he fashions a plate to serve it on, made of the faith, despite the fears, that they’d see each other again he’d felt going into what should have been their seventh meeting. The same faith that had carried him beyond it when it was missed, both the original and repeat time around.

Carefully lifting the plate, Hob turns to head back into the sitting area. Has to pause when he gets a look at the expression on his friend's face.

The Lord of Dreams and Nightmares stares back at him, the heat behind that gaze a supernova at the height of it’s explosion. He looks like he wants to crawl into Hob’s psyche and see what makes him tic. To preserve it for him to return to and gaze upon at his leisure.

Hob swallows feeling not unlike a pinned butterfly on display, carefully asks, “Dove? The food is ready.” Needlessly, he holds up the plate.

Dream blinks, with all the effort of a titan willing itself back into something small enough for something a human could perceive. Eyes the dish like a predator would prey.

What would you feed a creature that is beyond that of a god?

“Yes, let us see what you have come up to thank me.”

Hob wills himself not to allow his trepidation stop him now. He once shit talked Death and earned an eternity to enjoy life. He's not stupid enough to do anything like that again - not rudely, anyway - but it is that kind of courage he reacjes for, foolish as it is.

He just hopes that this doesn’t turn out to be foolish, as well.

Dream takes his seat on the stool, somehow looking like a king set at the head of a grand table rather than someone sat at a bar table. Hob lays down the dish in front of him. Once his hands are free, he turns to the shelves behind him and reaches for one of the bottles. Imagines it filled with the joy of drinking with a companion that knows him better than anyone in the world as he pours it into a glass he’s pulled up from beneath the bottles. Lastly, he lays out a pair of utensils.

Once finished, he steps back, hands trailing palm up along the table as he withdraws. “I present your meal, milord. Roasted venison and vegetables, served with a Bordeaux wine. I hope it is made to your liking.”

Dream decides to taste the venison first. The moment the meat hits his tongue, Hob watches as his eyes fall close with a flutter. Raw pleasure lights his face, subtle that it is, like Hob has rarely seen, and he can’t help but feel an answering, pleased flush of his own.

Dream does not do anything as undignified as inhale the food. He takes his time with savoring the food, the wine. Somehow leaves not a single trace of it behind when he is finished. 

This might be the closest to sated Hob has ever seen Dream. 

Hob very happily adds this memory to his treasure trove of moments to look at on a rainy day.

Food consumed, Dream picks up his glass of wine. Swirls it a bit, something heavy on his mind. When he looks up at Hob for the first time since starting the meal, his eyes are deep and terribly, terribly knowing.

This is hardly the first time Hob has bared himself to this impossible creature. It will likely not be the last.

He does not back down, but rather rises up and meets it.

“Why do you not call me by my name?”

Hob blinks at the seeming non-sequitur. Rolls with it and shrugs. “You haven’t given me permission to use it.”

Dream hums at him, recognizes the insolence and decides to find it amusing. “Having my love would not be the safest thing for you, Hob Gadling. To have it would be your ruin.”

Fog, briefly, skirts the floor of the New Inn before vanishing. Hob can almost taste the Chateau Laffite 1828 on his tongue. 

And may each and every one of us give always the Devil his due.

It is far too late to be warned about what loving Dream of the Endless could mean for Hob Gadling. He is too far past the point of no return to worry about something as simple as being ruined.

He will claim, and even mean, that he spent those 106 years in Roderick Burgess’ basement because he wanted the world to keep spinning for the selfish reason of wanting to continue to live in it.

But that does not change the fact that he still took Dream’s place in what turned out to be the closest he has ever gotten to Hell on Earth because Hob was in love with him.

That he would do it again, no matter the cost.

“Some things are worth the danger, dove.” Hob stepped back up to the table, leaning forward until they were eye to eye. “You are worth it and I would say that every day if it would help you to believe it.”

Dream appears to be holding himself back with every ounce of his control. His emotionless façade long cracked down the center, laying bare the controlled urge to claim and possess. “Be sure, Hob Gadling. I may not let you go.”

Hob leans in, not away. They will talk about boundaries after Dream is convinced he is allowed to touch. “You may have me, dove. Now and as long as you will have me.”

Dream’s control finally snaps as he near springs up from his chair. Hob barely has time to register the hand reaching around his head and tangling in his hair, before he is pulled into a kiss that borders on desperate. He sinks into it, melting into that mouth that steals his breathe from him and leaves him thanking it for him. He can still taste hints of the wine and meal as he chases that clever, sharp tongue.

Dream pulls away, as if belatedly remembering that Hob is human and it is human habit to breathe, even in dreams. Licks his lips as if Hob has a taste and he wishes to savor it.

Hob watches the flash of pink like a parched man would water in the desert.

“You may use my name.” The Dream Lord’s fingers loosen their grip on his hair. His touch becoming a caress along Hob’s check as he begins to pull his hand away.

Hob, feeling brave, catches his arm and presses his lips to that wrist were a pulse might have been were this being anything as simple as human. “Thank you, Dream.” Whispers the name against the skin beneath his lips like a prayer.

He feels the shiver as well as sees it this time. Reluctantly releases his grip when Dream pulls away.

“Thank you for the meal, Hob Gadling. Your gratitude has been received.” He stands in one smooth motion, more graceful here in his domain than he ever is in Waking. “I will see you again, soon.”

With a wave of his hand, Dream sends Hob back to the Waking world.

Hob opens his eyes to the ceiling of his bedroom. His ankle, true to prediction, is a soft ache that will be gone by the end of the day, if he is careful. 

For the next hour before his alarm goes off, Hob lays there as for the first time since he met the Herald of Destruction on that ordinary day in 2189, he feels the unintended consequences of his choice - and the wish behind it - fully sink in.

There is no possible ruin that could come from bearing Dream’s love that will compare to the pain of outliving him when Hob inevitably loses him.

He had thought he knew what he was getting into when he decided to marry Eleanor and father children with her. It had nearly destroyed him when he vastly underestimated how terrible it was to lose someone you loved with all you had.

Yet he knows, just as he did with Eleanor, Robyn, and his unborn daughter, he will weather this pain because getting his heart broken will have been worth the happiness, however short it lasts.

He had survived her death and the death of their children. Eventually.

He had survived Dream’s death, the first time.

He can only pray he will survive it a second time.

Interlude: 1989

[phoenixyfriend]

Uncle Ben and Little Luke

AKA we combine several types of time travel for maximum Soft Chaos, let’s go

EDIT NOW THAT I’VE WRITTEN THIS UP: jfc this ended up much angstier than initially intended uhhhhhhhhhh sorry

So a common enough thing I’ve seen in time travel fics is characters getting de-aged when tossed back physically, to neither the age they should be in that time, nor the age they were from the time they left, but whatever is most convenient. This is usually de-aging OT Obi-Wan into his TCW self, for reasons relating to, chiefly, removing the damage of Tatooine absolutely destroying his body alongside PTSD-driven alcoholism, but also because fic writers are horny, and Ewan McGregor playing a late-thirties negotiator is on average more appealing to people than Alec Guinness playing a vaguely feral desert hermit.

So, here’s how it plays out:

We take Luke and Ben from some point in the OT. There are a variety of options depending on how angsty we want it to be. My first instinct is ‘right after Owen and Beru die’ but I want to have that sweet angst where Luke knows that his dad is Vader and that Obi-Wan was trying to convince him to kill his own father without telling him that.

We’ll go with shortly after Bespin, and then they end up significantly before TPM. The Obi-Wan of the timeline proper is, eh, let’s say eighteen. Not really ready to be a knight, but old enough that we don’t have to worry about “if we go save Shmi, do we somehow wipe out Anakin?” which is absolutely a worry. Anakin is a toddler, and is in no place to be evil, on account of being literally two years old. He can’t even explode people with his brain yet.

Now, Ben finds himself mid-thirties, as is traditional. He’s not upset at this, because his joints hurt so much less than they used to! His knees aren’t exactly teenage-perfect, but by the Force are they better than they were in the years before he died! His hair has color! He doesn’t have arthritis! And, goodness, no physical withdrawal symptoms! The psychological aspect is still there, but nonetheless, he’s in much better shape than he last remembers being.

Luke looks like he’s about six. He was recently twenty-two. This is not an upgrade. Ben keeps having to carry him. He can’t see over the counter when they enter a bar for information. He can’t enter the bar in the first place. He’s very annoyed by all of this.

Ben is not annoyed. Ben is having a lot of emotions, actually, but annoyance isn’t one of them. He didn’t get to help raise Luke the way he might have if Anakin hadn’t lost his shit, okay, he sees a small Luke and he wants to hug him and cry.

Luke would like to be able to purchase a speeder part without the lady at the stall asking him if he needs his “dad’s” permission.

Once they figure out when and where they are, they need to decide where and how to leave. There are general shenanigans to gamble their way into enough money to hire a ship. They are in the ass end of nowhere, but definitely not Tatooine. There appears to be a jungle. There appears to be a significant variety of man-eating creatures. There appears to be a temple to the Force of questionable origin. None of this is actually helpful, except for the moment they find a “baby’s first lightsaber” in the temple.

Luke only has one hand and, being a six-year-old, his body is growing too fast for him to bother with getting a wired-in prosthesis the way he could as an adult. He can get a more basic prosthesis, but nothing that attaches to the neurons. He’ll outgrow it too fast.

He’s tiny and he’s not used to doing things with just one hand. He uses the Force to do what one hand can't, and every time someone tries to tell him he's misusing the Force he whaps them with the empty sleeve.

So, you know, they find out what year it is. Ben has a breakdown. Luke is upset that he left behind his friends. Ben admits to him that Leia was his twin. Luke stares in horror because dude, she kissed him, you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier???

Ben points out that Beru and Owen were keeping Luke away from him for nineteen years, and then they had about three days of awkward travel to find Leia in the first place, and then Ben died. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to figure out how to tell him.

(This sparks an argument that lasts several days. All onlookers assume that Ben’s son is throwing a tantrum. He doesn’t correct them, even though this is a very valid reason to be upset, because the truth is much harder to explain.)

Sooooo they travel. Mostly, Ben plays Sabacc, cleans house, and pays their way towards Coruscant. Luke still really wants to learn to be a Proper Jedi, even though Ben is pretty sure that Luke would have... a lot of difference of opinion with the Temple, but sure. Coruscant. They can at least stop by, and see Qui-Gon, and Mace, and Quinlan, and Bant, and everyone else that’s still alive and not tragically deceased in the horror following the start of the Clone Wars and then the birth of the Empire, and Ben can have a nice sob over all his dead friends being alive again.

Ben is only barely holding it together while Luke is in the room with him at any given point. But it’s fine! It’s fine. He’s fine. All of his loved ones have come back to life! It’s great! HE’S FINE.

He is not fine.

Luke is also grieving all the people who haven’t been born yet, but he’s... significantly more okay than Ben is.

The closer they get to the Core, the more often people just assume Ben is Luke’s father, and then look shocked and uncomfortable when Luke flatly calls him by his name, and they just... compromise. This is the point at which Luke starts calling him “Uncle Ben.”

Ben cries in his bunk later that night. Luke overhears it and wonders how the HELL Ben is more unstable now, when there’s a chance to fix things and no Vader or Empire trying to kill or capture both of them, and all his friends are alive.

(Luke will later learn a lot about PTSD and realize this is actually a fairly normal situation, to process significant events and emotions only after gaining safety or catharsis.)

(Twenty years on a ball of sand with an alcohol addiction and debilitating fear of the man you raised as your own brother is not, in fact, safe or cathartic.)

At any rate, they’ve settled into that pattern by the time they reach the Inner Rim. The Inner Rim is the part of the galaxy at which they’ve collected enough money (and mental stability) to travel a little better, and to take a few more risks.

Risks like “manipulate people with those baby blues.”

Ben tells Luke that he’s a menace, after he pouts so cutely that he gets a free scarf added on to a purchase that Ben makes. Luke responds that Ben has no room to talk, since he flirted a free breakfast out of that one inn owner.

Also, Luke is currently physically six. That is objectively a situation that sucks. He deserves to use it for all it’s worth if he’s stuck like this.

“You know, if you keep wearing all-black and looking longingly at the velvet cape and Space Chanel boots, the temple is going to worry that you’re a darksider.”

“Uncle Ben... you told me, yesterday, that I sparkle so brightly in the Force that it’s almost blinding.”

“Yes, but the gloves--”

They don’t agree on this, but Ben relents. He does actually understand good fashion, unfortunately, and he’s not unaware of how much Leia taught Luke about such things.

Luke’s about forty years ahead of the curve, of course, but Skywalkers are prone to such things. It’s usually in regards to technology, granted, but...

They get to Coruscant. Ben is very obviously a Jedi. He knows all the right words and walks like a Soresu master and feels warm and comforting in the Force. They let him in with minimal questions. They note down “my first padawan left the order to have a child, but died shortly after; I consider Luke here to be my nephew, and have raised him as such,” and move on.

Luke is vaguely annoyed because he already had an uncle (and aunt) that raised him, but he admits that a person can have more than one uncle. He can live with this. Ben was more family to Anakin than Owen was, in some ways, so it’s kind of true. Luke is even working on feeling more childish affection for Ben instead of the complicated mess of emotions that come from being lied to about some very large and important subjects, and then seeing the person saying those lies have regular emotional breakdowns due to something as small as Luke saying he likes the curve of the hull on that freighter.

(Apparently he sounds just like his father did as a child. This is almost heartwarming.)

The thing is! The thing. The thing is, they almost make it to the Halls of Healing to get looked over for weird viruses, or Outer Rim Parasites, or whatever the hells needs to be happening. They almost make it without Ben having a flashback to dead younglings or brainwashed troopers or the declaration of a Sith Empire. They almost make it without incident.

Then Ben sees Qui-Gon, and freezes, and does not move again.

Luke cannot get him to restart.

People are staring.

They haven’t even made it to Medical, Uncle Ben, come on.

Young, local Obi-Wan comes over and asks if there’s something he can do to help. Or maybe this “Ben” knows Qui-Gon? Master Jinn doesn’t recognize Ben, but maybe Luke knows more?

Luke does know more, but what Luke actually says is “he probably needs a mind healer.”

(Ben will not appreciate this.)

(Ben is unfortunately standing in the middle of the hallway and completely unresponsive, and is unable to argue with this assertion.)

(Ben is pretty much proving this assertion entirely correct, actually.)

Obi-Wan is helpful, if a little bitchy in the manner of most late-teens individuals, and offers to help get Uncle Ben down to the Halls of Healing. It involves Obi-Wan gently pushing on Ben’s shoulders, and Qui-Gon offering to carry Luke so he can be in Ben’s sights (because Ben is a Mystery, and Qui-Gon is quite fond of those, so he wants to stay involved). Ben kind of just... shuffles on down.

There are medical tests. They ask about how Luke lost his hand. He refuses to talk about it. They ask how Ben got all his scars. Luke says he doesn’t know. They ask if he knows why Ben looks like he’s been through a war. Luke says it’s because he probably was.

They check for foreign viruses. They find evidence of thus-far-unpatented vaccinations. They ask Luke if he knows what he’s vaccinated for.

“How would I know? I’m six.”

They agree that this is a good excuse.

(It is not. He’s lying. They do not know this.)

They do some more tests. They find a lot of questionable medical bullshit in Ben’s body. Most of this is from the clone wars, but they don’t know this. Someone realizes they haven’t gotten a ping back from the Shadow Network regarding “do we have permission to pull the medical file of a Jedi that isn’t in the normal database? We’re assuming you know who he is, since we don’t.”

The Shadow Network does not know who Ben is.

The healers, of course, go “huh, that’s weird, but maybe the name he gave his nephew was fake. We can’t exactly ask ‘Ben’ for more details right now. We already had to sedate him. Let’s check the DNA!”

The DNA pulls up as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The padawan who brought this guy in two hours ago.

“Huh, that’s weird. Let’s call in Kenobi and ask if he knows what’s going on.”

Obi-Wan absolutely does not know what’s going on.

They ask Luke.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, lying through his teeth and not even pretending otherwise.

“You’re not a very good liar,” teenage Obi-Wan tells him.

“I’m not trying to be,” Luke says. “Can you get Master Yoda? I feel like we’re going to need him.”

They normally wouldn’t get Yoda on the request of a six-year-old, but they also normally don’t have a catatonic thirty-something Jedi who looks like he’s been through a war popping up in the medical database as the pimply teenage padawan that broke his pinky trying to do a Badass Ataru Flip last week.

Or... whatever Luke i... is... oh dear.

“Young one,” Qui-Gon asks, while people whisper-shout behind him, not realizing he’s cutting the Correlian Knot and just asking the kid himself. “Do you know why your midichlorian count is so high? It’s almost unheard of.”

“Uncle Ben said my dad was the Chosen One,” Luke says, because he is capable of being a little shit and is actually really eager to let Ben deal with some of the fallout. He feels for the man, really, but he’s also tired of being the one to field every single question.

Also, the expressions that pass on Qui-Gon’s face are hilarious.

(Luke may or may not be more affected by his six-year-old brain than he would like to admit.)

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon says, sounding more than a little strangled about it.

It takes another three hours for Ben to wake up.

He listens to the questions. He hears what they say his ‘nephew’ said. He looks at Luke.

“Is this revenge for not telling you about Leia?”

“It’s not revenge,” Luke does not lie. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

“It’s pretty easy to explain.”

“It’s not my secret.”

“This is revenge for the Leia thing.”

“No,” Luke says. “Revenge for the Leia thing was when I ate a live frog in front of you.”

This is the point at which someone interrupts and points out that they appear to be stalling.

“Oh, he is,” Luke tells them. He gestures at Ben. “I can’t tell you more, because it’s more his story than mine.”

“I’m afraid, Master, that I am very likely to have an emotional breakdown if I allow myself to consider the reality of this situation for longer than the fraction of a second I already have,” Ben reports, full of false cheer. “Suffice to say, I am far from stable and have only held out this far for Luke’s sake.”

“Can you explain why you have my DNA?” Obi-Wan asks, as the person who’s most concerningly involved in this situation.

“You can,” Ben says, smiling like there is absolutely nothing wrong in the slightest, ever. “I’m you, from the future. I actually died and spent a few years dead before coming back. I’m not sure why I’m younger than I was when I died, but I appreciate being able to put on my shoes without my knees attempting to mutiny.”

“He needs a mind healer,” Luke reiterates, in case the strained grin hasn’t made it clear. “So do I, but not as much.”

“I have felt literally every person in this Temple save for Luke and Yoda die,” Ben reports, looking a shade more manic than a few seconds earlier. “It’s very overwhelming to feel you all being alive again. I may be approaching a mental breakdown, and I’ve been rather strictly advised against using alcohol to treat my traumas again.”

Luke kicks him in the thigh. It’s not a very hard kick, because he is very small, and he does actually like Ben. “I’m not letting you turn into an old drunk again.”

After several seconds of silence, a healer quietly suggests that everyone clear the room, and asks if someone could fetch Master Yoda as the youngling requested.

(THIS IS ALMOST THREE THOUSAND WORDS. I started it less than two hours ago. Why am I like this.)

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Matt: At what age does the medical transition begin, with medication?

Michelle: So, medical affirmation begins when the patient says they’re ready for it. So, that could be a kiddo who is just starting puberty and panicking because they’re getting breast buds, or their penis is getting bigger and busier and they’re worried about all kinds of masculine changes. And that way, puberty blockers, which are completely reversible and don’t have permanent effects are wonderful because we can put that pause on puberty, just like if you were listening to music, you put the pause on, and we stop the blockers and puberty would go right back to where it was, the next note in the song, just delayed that period of time.

Matt: One of the drugs used is Lupron, right...

Michelle: Mmhmm...

Matt: ... which has actually been used to chemically castrate sex offenders?

Michelle: You know what? I’m not sure that we should continue with this interview, because it seems like it’s going in a particular direction.

Matt: Well, you’re a medical professional.

Michelle: I am a medical professional.

Matt: So, you don’t want to talk about the drugs that you give to kids, or...?

Michelle: Again, I’m a physician and I use medication. You’re choosing exploitive words. Drugs. I give to kids. Chemical castration.

Matt: I’m choosing a word that was in the dictionary.

Michelle: That’s not a correct term for puberty blocking.

Matt: Well, I can look it up on my phone. I’m pretty sure if I looked it up...

Michelle: You can look it up on your phone.

Matt: It says: “medical definition: the administration of a drug to bring about a marked reduction in the body’s production of androgens and especially testosterone.”

Michelle: And I’m saying, as a paediatrician, who takes care of hundreds of these kids, when you use that terminology, you are being malignant and harmful.

Matt: I mean, there are some who would say that giving chemical castration drugs to kids is malignant and harmful.

Michelle: It’s about the context of caring for a child and seeing the... suffering that kids can have that have not been in an affirmative home situation.

==

Meet gender ideology’s Jenny McCarthy. Meet gender ideology’s Jim Bakker.

https://segm.org/UK_HighCourt_Rules_PubertyBlockers_Experimental

Describing puberty blockers as simply a “pause button,” “completely reversible,” “life-saving,” or “evidence-based” is untrue and misleads patients, their families and the clinicians responsible for their long-term health.

Full text:

The UK High Court determined that the provision of puberty blocking medications (GnRHa) to stop normally-timed puberty in gender dysphoric young people is experimental (1). The judges recognized puberty blockers as the first step in a trajectory that almost invariably leads to later prescription of cross-sex hormones with irreversible consequences. Because of this, the Court ruled that persons under age 16 are unlikely to be able to provide valid informed consent, as they lack the capacity to properly comprehend and evaluate the profound and life-long impacts of these interventions. Additionally, the Court issued caution for those between the ages of 16-17, as young people have a limited ability to comprehend the profound life-long implications for sexual and reproductive function and other health risks. With this ruling, the High Court has set up an expectation of accountability of the health professionals engaged in the provision of pediatric medical transition.

The UK High Court’s conclusions reflect growing concern among a significant number of researchers and clinicians about the poorly understood rapid rise in the number of adolescents with gender dysphoria, and the marked lack of evidence that hormones and surgery improve long-term health outcomes.

Three separate reviews of the scientific literature (a review by Professor Carl Heneghan, the director of the University of Oxford's Centre for Evidence-Based Medicine; the Swedish Health Authority evidence review; and the Finnish Health Authority evidence review) conclude that the research evidence for hormones to alleviate gender dysphoria in young people is insufficient,(2–4) rendering these interventions experimental. The Endocrine Society, which outlined this hormone protocol for young people, also conducted a review of the evidence and concluded that the quality of the evidence was low to very low (5). [Update: In 2020, the UK National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (NICE) undertook two systematic evidence reviews of hormonal interventions for gender-dysphoric youth and concluded that the evidence basis is of very low quality, calling for a need to carefully weigh the low-certainty benefits against the significant risks of these interventions.]

Gender medicine is a relatively new field with a limited and shifting evidence base. In 2020, the scientific debate about biomedical interventions for gender dysphoria intensified as serious methodological flaws and misinterpretations of studies underpinning the current treatment model were exposed. A major study alleging evidence of mental health benefits of biomedical treatment for adults was corrected; a revision concluded that neither hormones nor surgery are of any benefit in terms of long- term mental health or suicidality (6). Two other widely cited studies purporting benefits of puberty blockers and suggesting harms of psychological approaches to gender dysphoria were also found to have errors and misrepresentations that invalidated the papers’ conclusions (7,8).

The author of the experimental protocol of biomedical interventions for young people (known as the Dutch protocol) published a commentary in Pediatrics in October 2020 alerting the medical community that biomedical transition is currently being applied to young people for whom it was not designed and might not benefit (9). The author emphasized the need to identify those people who need enhanced mental health support, rather than gender reassignment.

There has been a marked and poorly understood change in the profile of the young gender-dysphoric patients in recent years, from primarily males with childhood-onset gender dysphoria, to predominantly females with adolescent-emergent gender distress and a significant burden of comorbid trauma, mental illness, and neurodevelopmental difficulties. This recent phenomenon has been noted by gender clinics worldwide, highlighting how little is currently known about which approaches will lead to optimal outcomes in this population.

Based on the current research and documented evidence, SEGM asserts that the long-term outcomes of puberty blockers for the treatment of gender dysphoria are not known. Numerous outcomes are yet to be clarified, including whether there is long-term psychological harm or benefit, whether suicide rates are increased, decreased or unchanged, and whether blockers contribute to longer-term persistence of gender dysphoria, necessitating life-long medical treatment with adverse impacts on morbidity and mortality.

Describing puberty blockers as simply a “pause button,” “completely reversible,” “life-saving,” or “evidence-based” is untrue and misleads patients, their families and the clinicians responsible for their long-term health. The prescription of puberty blockers to gender-dysphoric young people with normally-timed puberty is experimental. Thus, puberty blockers should only be offered in formal, approved research settings, with rigorous study designs capable of generating useful information.

Overconfidence is dangerous in science and medicine. All ethical practitioners must humbly recognize the significant uncertainties in the field of gender medicine. We sincerely hope that the judgement of the High Court will mark the beginning of international commitment to rigorous clinical investigation into the most effective treatments for children and adolescents experiencing gender dysphoria. Until a reliable, quality evidence base emerges, young patients and their families should be supported in exploring all available options before undergoing invasive, often irreversible interventions with unknown long-term implications.

https://thepostmillennial.com/gender-affirming-surgeon-admits-children-who-undergo-transition-before-puberty-never-attain-sexual-satisfaction

‘”An observation that I had,” said Bowers, “every single child who was, or adolescent, who was truly blocked at Tanner stage 2,” which is the beginning of physical development, when hormones begin their work of advancing a child to adulthood, “has never experienced orgasm. I mean, it’s really about zero.”‘

‘Bowers said that an additional concern is that when a boy child undergoes this process, the penis does not grow, which makes it hard to take that genital material and surgically give it the appearance of the genital area of the opposite sex.’

https://cass.independent-review.uk/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/Cass-Review-Interim-Report-Final-Web-Accessible.pdf

‘There has been research on the short-term mental health outcomes and physical side effects of puberty blockers for this cohort, but very limited research on the sexual, cognitive or broader developmental outcomes.

In the short-term, puberty blockers may have a range of side effects such as headaches, hot flushes, weight gain, tiredness, low mood and anxiety, all of which may make day-to-day functioning more difficult for a child or young person who is already experiencing distress. Short-term reduction in bone density is a well-recognised side effect, but data is weak and inconclusive regarding the long-term musculoskeletal impact.

The most difficult question is whether puberty blockers do indeed provide valuable time for children and young people to consider their options, or whether they effectively ‘lock in’ children and young people to a treatment pathway which culminates in progression to feminising/ masculinising hormones by impeding the usual process of sexual orientation and gender identity development. Data from both the Netherlands and the study conducted by GIDS demonstrated that almost all children and young people who are put on puberty blockers go on to sex hormone treatment.

A closely linked concern is the unknown impacts on development, maturation and cognition if a child or young person is not exposed to the physical, psychological, physiological, neurochemical and sexual changes that accompany adolescent hormone surges. It is known that adolescence is a period of significant changes in brain structure, function and connectivity.

During this period, the brain strengthens some connections (myelination) and cuts back on others (synaptic pruning). There is maturation and development of frontal lobe functions which control decision making, emotional regulation, judgement and planning ability. Animal research suggests that this development is partially driven by the pubertal sex hormones, but it is unclear whether the same is true in humans. If pubertal sex hormones are essential to these brain maturation processes, this raises a secondary question of whether there is a critical time window for the processes to take place, or whether catch up is possible when oestrogen or testosterone is introduced later.

An international interdisciplinary panel has highlighted the importance of understanding the neurodevelopmental outcomes of pubertal suppression and defined an appropriate approach for investigating this further. However, this work has not yet been undertaken.’

==

Michelle Forcier is either a pathological liar (knows it’s false) or perilously ignorant (doesn’t know it’s false) about what she’s saying. Either way, she’s dangerously unqualified to be medically altering children - or “kiddos,” as she flippantly quips - who are in distress.

Notice that her priority is to affirm them, not help them.

[cuntycassandra]

Discussing Omega’s childhood on Kamino

Maybe I’m one of the only people curious about this as we’re all very hung up on Crosshair right now (understandable, I want our king back too), but I would really like a conversation between Omega and preferably Hunter, but anybody works fine, to delve into what her life was truly like on Kamino. How she was treated, raised, reprimanded, and how this all reflects on her relationship with the bad batch, and specifically in moments where their actions have fatherly intent behind them.

So, here’s what we know so far:

She was essentially raised by Nala Se.

She’s a first gen/holds unmodified Jango Fett DNA. Whether she was created at the same time as Boba, we don’t know, although it is unlikely.

Due to the fact she was unaltered, she must’ve been raised from infancy on Kamino.

She wasn’t allowed her own bedroom, so I speculate she either slept in the medical wing or had some sort of shared quarters with Nala Se.

She was frequently tested and experimented on, quite often against her will.

She was perceived to be property and nothing more than an evaluative source to help further Kaminoan research by everybody excluding Nala Se (potentially)

Her title role was a ‘medical assistant’.

She didn’t have a very warm relationship with the other clones, as we’ve seen they labelled her a “lab scrapper”.

She made friends with the existing medical staff, who were all droids.

And that is essentially it. Of course, we can make speculations, (a few of mine are: she must’ve been tormented by the other cadets for not being like them, she knew 99 and he kept her company whenever Nala Se left her alone, and that although she was educated accordingly for her medical training and basic education, she was very sheltered from things without ‘purpose’ to her life (as we all know, the Kaminoans don’t do anything without purpose) but we don’t actually know anything else about her time on Kamino!

First of all I really want to know WHY she was created. Taking into account she isn’t the same age as Boba (it’s very much suggested she isn’t, I mean she acts, looks, sounds and is treated significantly younger than Boba ever was), and Jango also didn’t request two unaltered clones, she must’ve been created a few years after Boba. Therefore, was Jango aware of her existence? And if he was, did he want her? Again, if so, what did Boba think of her? (We don’t actually see Omega’s reaction to being told she’s different, so although she might not have known of their exact relations to her, it’s very likely she could’ve potentially met Jango and Boba at some point.) So many questionsssss.

Moving on, I’d love to know more about her relationship with Nala Se. We’ve seen that the doctor has a soft spot for Omega, most definitely because she raised and grew to love her instead of deeming her a piece of property (not excusing Nala Se’s vile actions with the other clones, she can still rot, Omega has better parental figures now.), but was it always like that? Did she neglect smaller Omega for being just another clone? Before ‘Mega could show personality and differentiate herself, did Se still view her as nothing more then a test subject? How did that affect her relationship with Omega as a young child.

Speaking of which, what was Omega then like as a smaller child (hard to believe, she’s still so smol lmao), but I’m talking toddler age here. She is basically a regular person, going through regular human changes due to the fact she isn’t altered, which means she would’ve had all of those wretched toddler phases that parents dread. We can most likely assess that she was playful and curious, she still is now, bless her, but how was it received? Smaller children don’t have the complexity to understand the level of technicality that the Kaminoans work at, she wouldn’t have understood the necessity of sitting still and behaving, would she have been severely reprimanded? Was Nala Se nice to her about it? How was she raised to interpret mannerisms of other people in regards to this?

Furthermore, I want to know what tests they were performing on her too. She’s clearly important due to her first hand DNA, but before that was an asset, before the Kaminoans needed that, what were they doing to her? Why were they testing on her? How much pain was she in? Did she receive any comfort afterwards or was she expected to dry her eyes and get on with it? (I’m speculating it was the latter.) I need to know what they were doing and why. What was the purpose!

Her entire previous life is a huge mystery to us and I want to know more! And I hope I’m not the only one!

Just looking at her precious little face hurts because we know she didn’t receive the ideal childhood, if anything it was borderline abusive (I mean, not just testing on her, but the mind games the Kaminoans played with this poor kid, the fact she was well aware she was just an asset to their research and yet she constantly received mixed messages. It’s no wonder she idolised the bad batch so much; they seemed to be the only people who hadn’t either treated her like garbage at some point up until then, or died. Honestly despite the few slip ups, props to them for actually taking her in and being decent towards her.

I mean, this isn’t the purpose of this post, but just look at the comparisons.

She finally receives her own bedroom.

Said bedroom isn’t even a proper room, but they made do with what they could. She even acknowledges this and she still absolutely loves it. It’s decked out just for her with fairy lights, blankets and toys.

As said, she actually owns toys now, we don’t know if she ever did on Kamino, but I’m speculating it was most likely very few if any at all.

She has her own weaponry and equipment, she’s actually being assisted to defend herself and her squad, she’s gaining knowledge the Kaminoans wouldn’t have ever dreamed of giving her.

As we’ve seen with the amount of times she runs to Hunter for protection, she trusts them immensely. They’re doing everything right to gain her apprehensive trust so quickly.

And of course it isn’t just with Hunter (I’m a stan so pardon my consistency with bringing him up) but she’s the same with the entire batch, even Cross to a very mild extent! She trusts Wrecker with her life, she forgave him so easily after the Bracca incident because she knows the difference between someone purposefully trying to hurt her and them having no control over their actions.

We see she’s been patient with Echo and Tech, she loves to listen to them, she’s picked up on Tech’s dialect (as seen in episode seven) and she trusts him to help her whenever necessary, she has such a touching bond with Echo too, their little interactions melt my heart.

I could rant for hours about her bond with Hunter, so maybe that should be it’s own post at some point, but honestly just how she always seeks him out specifically for comfort, protection and reassurance. It’s so beautiful.

The way she’s addressed Crosshair over their few co-existent moments too. She’s tried to reassure him it isn’t his fault, because she knows it isn’t, she trusts him because she has no reason not too, everything he’s done and said to her hasn’t been within his control.

These are all severely different reactions to how she responds to both the Kaminoans on planet, whenever they’re mentioned, and from what we know in regards to how they treated her.

I’m repeating myself from a previous post here but honestly petition to give Megs all the hugs in the universe. She deserves ‘em. 💛

[fandomwriterstuff]

Perseus Achilles Jackson was the only human aboard the USS Olympus, and he was proud of it. He worked twice as hard as everyone else to get his dumb species into space and his team was very open and proud of him.

But, they weren’t always aware of human customs. This had happened on multiple occasions.

Here are the accounts of the two times Percy’s crewmate boyfriend was so shocked he nearly (or actually) fainted, and the one time he wasn’t.

The first time, they hadn’t been dating. Percy dressed rather conservatively while he was at the academy, not like he would were he on his home island of Kauai. But the first time Percy met a Plutonian was also that Plutonian’s first time meeting a human.

“Human Perseus, hello!” Niccolo DiAngelo was a handsome fellow, Percy noticed on the first meeting. Olive skin, dark eyes, and black hair along with his humanoid shape were all typically attractive looks in Percy’s books, but he also had these huge majestic black wings that Percy ached to touch. That was besides the point.

“Hey, Niccolo DiAngelo, right?” “Just Nico is fine,” the other male smiled as he got closer. Ah! Another species that bared their teeth in friendship… At least Percy hoped that was the case.

“Just Percy is fine too, no human and no Perseus,” Percy smiled back and stuck out his hand. Luckily, Nico was well versed in human gestures and took Percy’s hand for a rather formal handshake.

“I was wondering what the metal fixtures are on your eyebrow. They don’t seem to serve any medical purpose?” Nico asked, still smiling as if to try not to offend Percy with his questions.

“Oh, they don’t! They’re just adornment.”

“They are just… For appearance?” Nico cocked his head and lost his smile. Percy only laughed though.

“Yup! It’s the only piercing I have, but other humans have dozens.”

“How are they applied?”

“With needles, they first poke the hole in the skin and then they apply the jewelry,” Percy demonstrated by pulling at his eyebrow piercing to show off the bar.

He tried not to laugh as Nico’s beautiful olive skin turned more greenish than should be normal.

“I want more but it’s a little expensive to get good quality stuff,” Percy added.

“You paid someone to poke a hole in your face?” Nico practically squeaked.

“I sure did! Wait til you hear about tattoos!” Percy chuckled and left Nico with that thought.

“I need to get off this planet,” Nico choked out.

“Hah!” Percy laughed out loud and patted Nico on his broad shoulder. “Good luck with that buddy. Seeya in class!”

The second time it happened, Nico and Percy were studying for an exam together in Percy’s dorm. It was late and they’d stopped studying a while ago and were asking personal questions to pass the time.

“So you can’t touch another Plutonians wings unless you’re either a family member or a romantic partner?” Percy asked for clarification.

“Yup,” Nico munched on his ramen, something he found he actually enjoyed and could palate.

“Okay, interesting. Now you ask me something,” Percy leaned back against his bed and stretched his legs out.

“You told me about tattoos, and I definitely looked it up,” Nico’s cheeks burned a little greener at the thought. “Do you have any?”

“I do!” Percy beamed. “You might not have noticed because there are so few humans, but I am about three years older than most of the humans here. I did a three year stint in the American military and was sent overseas during wartime. So I have tattoos that commemorate the lives I took, so that they will never be forgotten,” Percy frowned, and Nico didn’t like that.

“Can I see them?” He asked tentatively.

“Of course, but I have to take my shirt off, and I’m going to have to ask you not to fall in love with me,” Percy winked jokingly at the already blushing Plutonian and made a show of taking his shirt off.

“Whoa,” Nico gasped, and reached out before drawing his hand back, knowing it wasn’t customary to touch another person without permission. Percy’s chest and arms were adorned with patterns of waves crashing and flowing. It was simple and beautiful but still ornate. “And how do they administer these again?”

“They have an electric needle that shoots dye into the epidermis-”

“They have what?” Nico choked.

“Is it the electric needle part or the shooting dye into the skin part that’s freaking you out?” Percy raised an eyebrow. He pulled out his phone to show Nico a video of Percy getting his first tattoo and the big strong Plutonian male completely zonked out and fell over on the floor, much to Percy’s amusement.

“Next time I go to get one,” Percy smirked, leaning over Nico’s body as the other male opened his eyes. “You’re coming with.”

Nico only groaned.

The third time, they were two years into a deep space exploration when they were travelling to Earth for shore leave, and Percy came back to their shared cabin with a devilish smile on his face.

“Neeks? You there?” Percy called into the bathroom. Huh, he would just have to wait for his boyfriend to come back. Percy laid spread on their bed and read his book until Nico came back.

“Hello there,” he said in his best Obi Wan impression when said boyfriend walked in, blue shirt neatly pressed with nary a wrinkle in it.

“Perseus,” Nico sighed. “What did you do?”

“What? Why would you sound so… so.... You love me, don’t you?” He countered.

“Of course I love you,” Nico sighed and laid down, burying his head in his boyfriend’s clothed stomach.

“Well I got another piercing.”

Nico groaned.

“Actually two.”

“I’ll never understand you humans,” Nico lifted his head and peered around Percy’s head at his ears. “Where are they then?”

Percy responded by gingerly removing his own shirt and presenting his new nipple piercings to his long time boyfriend. Not sure what to expect, Nico’s blushing green cheeks and ears were not what he expected.

“That is not what I expected,” the taller male commented quietly. “Did it hurt?” He frowned.

“A little, and they’re going to be a little sore until they heal completely. But I love them,” Percy smiled again, proud of his life decisions.

“I… also love them? I think?” Nico sounded confused at his own reaction and Percy laughed.

“I thought you might,” he pulled Nico (gently) on top of him and pulled him into a kiss.

“They’re kinda hot,” Nico murmured into the kiss, still at odds with himself.

“I thought you might think that too.”

“You do know me pretty well.”

“Wait until I tell you about my next piercing: the Prince Albert.”

[thefanficmonster]

Partner

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 8:Village, Swearing, Mentions of injury

Genre: Angsty Fluff, Comfort

Summary: Following the final battle in the Dimitrescu Castle, Ethan is surprised to stumble upon a person who witnessed the whole debacle, offering him a safe place to patch up his wounds and rest for a little while.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! So sorry you’ve had to wait so long but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“That was...something else.“ Ethan Winters mutters to himself as he limps his way out of the Dimitrescu Castle which is now vacant in terms of residence - his doing. He killed Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, all arguably in self defense and with little guilt to follow. However, plenty of trauma’s definitely attached to him following the horrific events he had to go through and the things he had to see between the walls of those luxurious rooms hiding dark secrets of the vampires who took pleasure in torturing people, and wreaking havoc over the villagers who feared them.

“At least they won’t hurt anyone any longer.“ He tells himself, giving the monster of a structure one final look before he continues back towards the center of the village where he’s gonna rethink what he’s got to do next, gather his bearings, take a breath and keep going. He has no other option but to keep going, he won’t allow himself to quit no matter what danger he faces. In his mind, he’s convinced himself that he’s already seen the worst, it’s easier on him that way, it suppresses the fear he’d feel otherwise. The last thing he wants is to think what’s in store for him ahead, he’d rather focus on what’s up to him to do next.

“And we can’t thank you enough.“

The sudden presence of an unfamiliar voice startles him, causing him to whip out his gun and point it in the direction it came from. However, he quickly finds his deadly tight grip loosening ever so slightly because he realizes he’s pointing the barrel at a very human-looking and seemingly harmless person.

“Who are you? Who’s ‘we’?“ Ethan still refuses to let his guard down though, just cause it may not be a life or death situation, doesn’t mean this person won’t bring him trouble and Lord knows that’s the last thing he needs right now.

On instinct, the person takes a step back, “I speak on the behalf of all the remaining villagers. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we too became victims in the Dimitrescu Castle basement. I was next, actually, but the commotion you created allowed for me to escape. I owe you my life, foreigner.“ The speak hurriedly and in a hushed tone, as if the fear of their torturers overhearing them still lives within them despite the monsters being deceased.

“Glad I could help you.“ He nods curtly, remaining at the distance of seven feet between them, “My name’s Ethan Winters by the way.“

They give him the tiniest of smiles, “Y/N L/N, pleased to meet you.” Their gaze gives him a quick onceover, assessing the damage the horrors of the castle have inflicted on him. Their eyes widen in shock at the many bleeding wounds all over his body but what appears to rattle them most is the severe injury that’s causing his limp as well as the missing finger - a poorly wrapped would that has surprisingly not started getting infected yet. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t trust you to take care of yourself either. I live in that windmill over there in the outskirts, come with me, I’ll help you with...well, with all that. You seem rather hopeless at medical care.”

While he could refuse their offer, he wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that they’re right - he knows the basics of first aid, but his injuries are far too gone for simple first aid, especially when taken into account that he doesn’t even have any supplies. How he’s not died from blood loss is a surprise to him as much as it is to them.

“What’s my guarantee you won’t turn on me?“ He finally asks after a decent amount of time contemplating it.

They shrug, “You have none. But, you have the guarantee that if I turn on you, you’ll be the one coming out of that altercation alive.” Their gaze sizes up the guns he’s got on him, emphasizing their point.

Suddenly, Ethan feels sorta ridiculous - after all, guns or no guns, he could probably take on them easily with just his knife. Regardless, no one can blame him for being cautious. “Fine.“ He mutters, “But please don’t turn on me, I’ve already had one hell of a day.“

Y/N nods, motioning for him to follow them, “I promise I won’t.”

                                                               *  *  *

“Wow, what a back-stabber! Some friends you have, Winters.“ Y/N comments as they set down a cup of tea on the small wooden table in front of the freshly patched up Ethan.

Turns out, he made the right move by trusting them - they used to be the village’s main nurse until it all went to hell and they went to hide in the shadows of their windmill where they, as evidenced, still are today. That being said, not only did they have all the necessary equipment to fix him up, but they also had the skills and knowledge needed to use that equipment.

“There are those friends who borrow money from you and never pay you back and there are those who shoot your wife randomly while you two are trying to have dinner. Two types of friends out there really.“ He sighs, his tired, a thousand yard stare following the path of the steam levitating from the cup that’s been placed in front of him. “I have no time to dwell on that right now though. My daughter is in grave danger and I have no idea where I should even start looking for her.“

Y/N sits down on a chair opposite his, “Well, you’ve already defeated one of the village Lords looking for Rose, process of elimination should reveal where she is - wherever she is, it has to be one of the Lords’ residence. Mother Miranda trusted Lady Dimitrescu most so it’s a wonder why she wasn’t there, but then again, Heisenberg’s factory is damn near impenetrable, one cannot enter unless he wants them to so she could have entrusted her precious cargo to him.”

“How do I get to that fucker?“ Ethan tightens his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly his knuckles turn white. There’s so much within him, so much that’s happened to him, so much in such a short amount of time and he’s had no time to deal with any of it. He’s a volcano waiting to erupt, but he has to do so at the right time - in front of the right danger to show he’s not hopeless or weak as his opponent may think. “Where do I find him?“

“He’s in the outskirts too just on the other side of the village.“ They sigh, regretting every word they are saying since they know they are just feeding him information on how to get himself in the worst kind of danger he’s probably ever been in. “That key you have, it’s not complete to access his quarters yet. By the looks of it...“ they observe the key Ethan has placed on the table, “You can only get to Lord Donna Beneviento’s estate, and I wouldn’t suggest heading there before you heal at least a bit more. Her and her dolls are a real nightmare. Of course, I haven’t experienced it for myself, but the stories are enough to get an idea.“

“So you’re telling me I have to waste my time with the little fish before I can finally get to Rose? You know how long that’ll take? You know how long she’ll have to be at the mercy of a fucking lunatic until I can finally save her?!“ Ethan snaps, banging his fist against the table, bad idea considering his hand’s been just patched up. The impact sends a jolt of pain up his arm that makes him hiss.

“I get it, I understand, Ethan. But you are a lot less likely to get to your daughter if you’re dead, you know.“ Y/N cautiously explains, their eyes narrowing a bit as they wait for the pearl white bandages to soak crimson, sighing in relief when they don’t. “Speaking of how likely you may or may not be to get to her on time, I’d also have to mention your odds would be significantly higher if you were to receive help from someone else. You’d need someone to have your back throughout all the shit you’re about to go through, especially Heisenberg’s factory where two eyes are not enough to track each and every threat that might pounce at you.“

Calmer now, Ethan gives them a puzzled look, “What are you suggesting?“

“I’m suggesting - well, I’m offering you my partnership.“ They explain, watching his expression change to one of knowing and understanding. “Of course, you’d have to give up one of those guns and hand it down to me, but I think that’s a small price to pay in exchange for an extra pair of eyes and limbs to guard and help you.“

Ethan’s first instinct is to decline. He can’t afford to see another person dying around him or because of him, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. But then again, just like he had no guarantee they wouldn’t turn on him, he has none that they’ll die. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to keep them and himself alive and they don’t seem like they are in it to half-ass it either. Quite the contrary, they seem perfectly determined and ready to face the same shit he’s about to.

“What do you get in return?“ He asks, his gaze suspiciously measuring each line on their face to gauge their true intentions. He’s a complete stranger to them, they’d have no reason to be this selfless for him, it’s obvious they are aiming at something bigger.

Y/N scoffs, leaning back in their chair with a small bitter smile on their face, their gaze resting on the tabletop and avoiding his, “You really wanna know? I want my revenge - revenge for what they did to this village, to me, to so many people I cared about and to those I didn’t even know. But...” they trail off, pausing to sigh out a heavy sigh before continuing, “But I also wanna redeem myself. I knew I should’ve done all in my power to stop them when their havoc was still on the rise, I knew I should’ve done more, but I didn’t. And now I’ll die trying.”

“You won’t die.“ He says sharply, barely a second after the last word left their lips, “I won’t allow it.“ He adds, taking a bit of the edge off his voice.

Their eyes come up to meet his, searching for what he means, “Does that mean...“

“It sure does, partner.“ Within the blink of an eye, his pistol is on the table, fully loaded and free for their taking, “You just give a green light and we’re off.“

Y/N lets out a sound between a laugh and a gasp as their hands quickly wrap around the gun, looking at it in disbelief before whispering a quick ‘thank you’. Ethan allows them to marvel at it for a bit longer but they don’t wait another second. “Get your ass up, Winters. We have monsters to kill.”

He needn’t be told twice

[shemarmooresfedora]

Collision Course

Summary: You and Spencer were just bound to collide. Only fate could plan a first meeting that unique.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: fluff, minor car crash (no serious injuries), swearing, sexual harassment (specifically cat-calling from a stranger), mentions of eating a lot of food, implied allusion to sex (not specifically stated)

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: this is my one-shot entry for @ellesgreenaway ‘s 1k follower celebration! congratulations! <3 i’ve had this fic in my drive for a while but i never got around to finishing it until now

Masterlist

The metro was down for scheduled repairs today. JJ offered to bring Spencer in but he politely declined. He figured he should drive his car at least every once and a while so it doesn’t just collect rust in his parking spot.

Leaving his apartment 15 minutes earlier than he normally would to account for his rather slow driving, Spencer cautiously reversed out of his space.

He sighed in relief that he had not hit the neighboring cars. Spencer began to pull out of the parking garage. Unfortunately, he was so relieved from his little victory that he forgot to check both ways when he drove out of the parking garage.

Spencer slammed on the brakes but it was too late. He hit a young woman jogging and knocked her to the ground. Luckily, his average speed was that of a snail so he hoped her injuries were not too bad.

Spencer put the car in park and got out, “Oh god, oh god, oh god. Are you okay, miss?”

“I think so,” you were on the ground, assessing your body for any damage.

“Can you stand?” Spencer extended his hand to help you up.

You carefully stood, wincing a little when you put pressure on your left ankle.

“Is there anyone I can call? Do you want me to drive you to the ER?” Spencer frantically asked.

Your eyes widened, “No!” you stated a little too loudly, “Um I mean no thank you. I should finish my run anyways. I have a 5k for Alzheimer’s research coming up and I need to run or else I don’t raise any money,” you politely waved and took off again, much slower this time.

Spencer cringed as he watched you limp slightly every time you stepped on your left ankle, knowing it was his fault you were in pain. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

“Hey JJ, have you left yet? I need a ride, I’ll explain in the car.”

-

“Pretty Boy, how was your drive in?” Derek asked as soon as Spencer stepped off the elevator with JJ.

“I got about 20 feet and then hit someone with my car and had to call JJ so not great,” he admitted.

“Boy Wonder, you did WHAT? Are they okay?” Penelope gasped.

“She insisted she was fine but then she was limping away. I offered her a ride but she didn’t seem too keen on getting in a car with me,” Spencer explained.

“I wonder why,” Emily chuckled.

-

So there Spencer was. In the park in his only pair of short athletic shorts and a hoodie.

He had asked Penelope to sign him up for the 5k as a way to sort of make it up to the woman he hit. Plus, obviously it was for a good cause that was near and dear to his heart because of his mother.

Spencer had to take a lot of water breaks, periodically stopping to walk for a bit.

In the distance, he saw you on a bench and he suddenly felt the energy again to continue running to you. As he approached, he saw you tightening an ankle brace around your left foot and to make matters worse, you had a wrist brace as well.

Spencer considered just leaving you alone but he felt the need to apologize.

“H-Hello,” he awkwardly sputtered.

“Oh, hi,” you replied.

“I am so so sorry. Please let me pay your medical bills and any other expenses that I caused,” Spencer apologized.

“Unless you meant to hit me then it’s fine,” you stood from the bench.

“I definitely didn’t and I wasn’t on my phone or anything like that. I just barely ever drive but the metro was down today,” Spencer explained.

“You don’t have to pay my medical bills. I’m friends with a nurse so she did this for free. However, I would allow you to sponsor me for the 5k,” you answered.

“Absolutely,” Spencer nodded, “And funny story, you inspired me to register as well. I got everyone in my office to sponsor me.”

“That’s so great! The money is certainly going to a good cause.”

Spencer saw you smile for the first time since he met you.

“I’ve never been much of an athlete though. I barely passed my fitness test for work,” Spencer admitted.

“What kind of job has a fitness test?” you asked.

“I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI,” Spencer stated.

“Oh shit, you’re a federal agent? Maybe I will sue you and make bank,” you grinned.

Spencer’s face reddened.

“It was just a joke. You can laugh, then that means the incident is in the past and no hard feelings,” you smiled, “I’m Y/N.”

“Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer, if you ever need a running buddy, I’m more than happy to come along seeing as we both are training for the same thing. But I do have to warn you, this brace is kind of a bitch so I’m a little slower than normal.”

“I can assure you that you will probably still be faster than me with the brace on so maybe it was a good thing for me that I hit you with my car so you won’t be miles ahead,” Spencer grinned.

You laughed wholeheartedly, “See, Spencer! I’m laughing about it so no hard feelings, all is forgiven.”

“I’m just finishing up for the day but I was planning on being here again on Wednesday at the same time if you want to meet at this bench,” you offered.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Spencer nodded.

“See you around, Spencer. Hopefully not in your car though,” you winked and waved.

-

“Oh god, you’ve fallen in love with the chick you almost killed,” Derek groaned.

“Not love...well, yet anyways. She’s so pretty and easy to talk to and isn’t mean to me after everything that has happened and her laugh is like honey,” Spencer smiled softly, recalling the sound in his mind.

“Okay, lover boy,” Penelope giggled, “Did you get her number?”

“No but we’re meeting for a run tomorrow. We actually met at the park when I was training,” Spencer said.

“So she’s seen you in those short shorts and agreed to another meeting? Maybe you do have a chance, kid, cause you really put it all out there,” Derek smirked.

“Speaking of, I actually need to get more of them,” Spencer sipped his coffee.

“Just go all the way and get spandex. Leave nothing to the imagination,” Derek chuckled as Spencer rolled his eyes.

-

“Jesus, I’m going to have to hit your right leg this time if I’m going to have any chance of keeping up with you,” Spencer huffed as he bent over his knees to catch his breath.

“Well good news is that was four miles so you definitely will be able to run a 5k because it’s only 3.1 miles,” you encouraged him.

“Technically, it’s 3.10686 miles but I see your point,” Spencer heaved.

“I know a really good smoothie place nearby. Come on, it’s on me,” you grabbed his hand.

Luckily, Spencer’s face was already red from exercising so you weren’t able to see the blush that formed on his cheeks.

“No, it’s definitely on me. I know you said we’re fine but I am forever going to be indebted to you because of the incident.”

“Spencer, really just forget about it,” you assured him.

“I can’t, I have an eidetic memory,” he grinned.

“Ah, I see. Fine, you buy me one smoothie but then we’re even,” you conceded.

You were walking down the street to the cafe when you heard a whistle come from one of the cars driving by.

“Damn, your ass is looking sexy in those leggings,” a man hollered from his passing truck.

You flipped him off and tried to pull your shirt down as much as possible, crossing your arms tightly around your front.

Spencer unzipped his hoodie and extended it towards you, “Sorry, it’s a little sweaty but if you want to wear it, you can.”

You smiled softly and accepted the sweatshirt, feeling more comfortable now.

“I’ve got his license plate number memorized and I intend to file a police report. Unfortunately, reports like these usually don’t go very far but I’ll keep pushing it through. I’ll also call the company that was printed on the side of the truck and ask to speak to his supervisor,” Spencer spoke softly after a few minutes.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you leaned your head on his shoulder and sighed.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just doing what’s right. He had no right to make comments about your body,” Spencer said, wrapping a gentle arm around your upper waist.

-

“Welcome to Y/N’s carbo-loading extravaganza!” you opened the door of your apartment to let Spencer in.

“I brought dessert as requested,” Spencer held up a chocolate cake.

“I like how you think, Spencer. Dinner’s all ready,” you smiled.

“Spaghetti, meatballs, and crispy buttery garlic bread,” you pulled the bread out of the oven.

“Looks absolutely delicious,” he complimented.

“Eating carbohydrates before a race boosts the glycogen storage in your muscles allowing you to work out longer,” Spencer informed you.

“Interesting, I never knew the science behind it but I’m never going to complain about eating tons of pasta and bread,” you twirled some pasta on to your fork.

Halfway through the meal, Spencer accidentally got a sauce stain on his pale pink shirt.

“Oh no,” you said as he tried to dab it away.

“That needs to soak right away. I don’t want any casualties at the carbo-loading extravaganza. Give it to me to scrub and I’ll get you another shirt.”

Spencer unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. You gulped at the sight of him shirtless, grabbing the shirt and heading to your bathroom sink to scrub it with laundry detergent.

“You can just grab any t-shirt from my room that you think will fit,” you called out to him.

Spencer settled on a light gray shirt with a golden retriever on the front.

“Okay, the stain is out! It’s just soaking now-“ you immediately stopped talking as soon as you saw the shirt Spencer was wearing.

He noticed your eyes were beginning to glisten with tears, “I’m so sorry. I can pick a different shirt,” Spencer was already beginning to pull it over the top of his head.

“No it’s fine, Spencer. That’s just my grandma’s t-shirt. I forgot I even had it.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he spoke guiltily.

“You didn’t know, besides it looks good on you anyways,” you smiled, “My grandma is the whole reason I’m running the 5k.”

“My mom has Alzheimer’s too so I understand that it’s extremely hard to watch a loved one go through that,” Spencer pulled you in for a hug.

You cried into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

After Spencer hadn’t heard any sniffles in a while, he whispered, “Do you have any tea I can make you?”

You nodded and Spencer guided you to the couch, wrapping you in a blanket before turning the kettle on.

-

Spencer answered the cheerful knocking at his front door early in the morning.

“Race day! Are you ready?” you exclaimed.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” Spencer smiled.

“I promise we are sticking together the whole time because it doesn’t matter how long it takes us as long as we finish,” you held up your pinky.

“Together,” Spencer affirmed, locking his pinky with yours.

The starting line in the park was only a short distance away from Spencer’s apartment so you and Spencer decided to walk there as a little warm-up.

You and Spencer were doing quad stretches when you saw his eyes wander to something behind you and then widen. His face immediately reddening.

“What?” you asked, turning around to see a group of people with a sign that read ‘Go Spencer and his girlfriend!’

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect them to do that,” Spencer stammered.

The poor boy was so flustered so you decided to take it easy on him.

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged with a slight smile.

“You don’t?” Spencer clarified, “I’m not very good with words or flirting in general but I would like to see you again after the race is over. Maybe I could take you out to dinner?”

“Yes but my only condition is...I’m driving,” you smirked.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that,” Spencer grinned.

An air horn sounded, signaling the start of the race.

“I think you’re going to have to catch me first, Dr. Reid,” you giggled as you sprinted ahead.

-

“It’s in sight, Spencer! We can do this!” you pointed to the finish line in the distance.

“Y/N, you’re going to have to carry me. I can’t,” Spencer heaved.

“If you finish this race, I will…” you cupped your hand to his ear and whispered something.

Spencer immediately perked up and started running again.

“Hey, wait up!” you laughed.

You and Spencer crossed the finish line at the same time. Spencer’s legs immediately gave out which caused you to fall too, collapsing on top of him.

“I know I’m really sweaty and gross right now but can I please kiss you?” Spencer whispered.

Your lips were pressed on his as soon as he finished his sentence. You honestly didn’t know how long you had been kissing for but you didn’t look up until you heard one of the race officials shout, “Hey lovebirds! That’s very sweet but other people are trying to cross the finish line.”

“Sorry!” you and Spencer apologized, scrambling to your feet.

“Not really,” Spencer whispered to you and you jabbed him in the side with your elbow playfully, stifling a laugh.

what slightly inspired this fic is one time @samuel-de-champagne-problems commented on one of my posts “i could never stay mad at spencer” and then i thought to myself “same. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if he hit me with his car” and now here we are... 🚙

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly