#it would only be a month late were it not for the sleep issues :D | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

karatekels · 1 year ago

Note

Hello:) first time with an ask. I have to preface by saying I absolutely love your account and your fics and just everything about what you've created ❤️❤️ may I ask, can you write something about CK Terry falling for a 30 something young woman in an adult class? She's learning and new to karate, yet Terry sees potential and asks if she'd like to grab dinner (or have his chef cook for them), then maybe "train" a little in his private dojo 😉

Thank you so much for your comments – they make my heart sing and make me blush horribly. I’m happy to write this for you – enjoy! ❤️

Shoutout to @terrysilv for helping me brainstorm some ideas for this!

---

Legacy

---

“Asa!” you cry out, the kiai escaping your lips in a short grunt as you lay into the punching bag with your fists and feet, the bag supported by your sparring partner. “Ya! Isa!”

“Okay okay!” your partner exclaims from behind the bag after awhile. “Jesus Y/N, you’re gonna knock me on my ass – can we take a break?”

Rolling your eyes, you step away from the bag, helping the man up before moving to your bag to get a drink of water. You were here to put the work in, and intended to do so the entire time, not wanting to waste even a minute.

You had been training with the Cobra Kai dojo for a few months now, and had gotten good; very good. You knew you were rather late to the game, starting to learn karate in your early thirties, but you were determined to prove yourself. You had quickly exceeded the introductory levels of the adult classes, and had worked your way up to the top of the expert class as well, having impressed the senseis of the dojo the whole way.

You didn’t like doing anything halfway – if you were going to learn karate, you were going to do it right, and not stop until you had perfected your skills.

The owner of the dojo, Sensei Terry Silver, walks past you, moving to snap at another pair of students whose form had gotten sloppy. That right there was another reason to do the best you could during these lessons; that man was likely twice your age, and incredibly fit, still able to instill fear in anyone he came across. You knew he was the best in the Valley, and you wanted to get to that level yourself. You wanted to be respected, you wanted to be able to take care of yourself, and karate was the perfect avenue to get you there.

Returning to your punching bag, your partner represses a sigh, bracing himself against the bag once more.

--- Terry’s POV ---

Terry glides past you, his feet silent on the training mats as he moves to scold a pair of students who were goofing off yet again. Really, how the majority of these people were accepted into the expert-level class baffled him. He’d need to talk to Kim at some point about her selection process.

There was, however, one student in particular that had been able to exceed his expectations…

He circles the dojo discreetly, positioning himself so that he could watch you, seeing you approach the punching bag for another round, fire in your eyes. Your form was perfect, and you were so graceful in your movements he found himself hypnotized.

You had been dedicated to your training since day one; he couldn’t think of anyone (other than himself, of course), who so fully encapsulated the 3 D’s: desire, devotion, discipline. He had taken notice of your beauty immediately, from the moment you entered the expert class, but had dismissed his attraction immediately. He didn’t sleep with students, and he didn’t date students, the work and romance spheres of his life remaining separate by his design.

He'd never had an issue abiding by that rule, until you’d shown up.

The better you got, the harder you trained, the more you wore down his resolve without you even realizing it. You had captivated him, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had fallen for anyone this hard. He had tried not to let his attraction for you interfere with his work – if you took offence and left, he would lose his only means of seeing you.

No, he had to play this perfectly, find an opportunity to test the waters with you, find out where you stood. Something away from here, away from everyone else, where he could turn on the charm and bring you around to his way of thinking. He was now a man past middle age; he didn’t have time to waste.

He’d have you eventually.

---

Terry waits until almost everyone else has left the dojo before approaching you. Yet another benefit to your dedication to karate: you were always the first to arrive and the last to leave. He lets you finish your cool down stretches, then walks over to you.

“Great work today, Y/N,” he compliments, savouring your pleased smile at his praise. You valued his approval; that was something, at least.

“Thank you, Sensei,” you reply, moving to retrieve your water. He follows smoothly behind you, not done with you yet.

“You’ve really improved during your time here,” he continues, determined to draw you into a conversation. “What’s driving you?”

You look over at him as you put your shoes and socks back on, considering the question. You were so contemplative, the type of person that thought things through, and he loved that about you. Everyone seemed so hasty these days, rushing headlong into situations without giving them thought, and it frustrated him to no end.

“I don’t like to do anything halfway,” you say after awhile. “If I’m going to do something, I want to do the best. I want to be the best,” you add, getting more passionate as you speak to him. He finds himself transfixed.

“I see the respect that you command around here, and I’m not a big tall guy like you, and I may never be a sensei, but that’s something I want,” you confess, looking up at him with that same fire in your eyes.

You were envious of him? You looked up to him? He could work with that.

“How do I become the best, Sensei Silver? What can I do next?”

Terry thinks about how to play this. Part of him did truly want to help you succeed; Cobra Kai was his legacy, and you were now not just part of that, but one of his shining stars. The greedy, primal part of him wants to promise you the best training money could buy if you would only become his. He settles for something in the middle.

“This dojo is really meant to cater to a group, and the lowest common denominator, even in the expert class. I don’t know if you can get the full attention that you deserve…” he begins, hesitating briefly, as though considering something, but he’s already finalized the plan in his mind.

“If you’d like, I could offer you private lessons at my personal dojo, where I could focus solely on you,” he offers, ever the generous benefactor. As if you weren’t already the centre of his attention every time you walked into the same room as him. Your eyes go wide, shining with delight at the thought.

“Wow, that would be incredible,” you breathe, and he feels his cock stir against his thigh at your excitement. While your interest wasn’t out of desire for him, it was about spending time alone with him, and that was enough to have his mind racing. Picturing you coming to his home with him had him nearly giddy.

“I just don’t think I could afford private lessons, Sensei Silver…” you say, and he resists the urge to scoff. Screw the money. This was about you, getting you, having you alone… but he had to be careful. You were fiercely independent, and proud, and while he admired and respected those traits in you he also knew to be wary of upsetting them.

“I would be happy to charge the same rate as you’re currently paying for the expert class,” he offers. “The success of my students is my main objective here with Cobra Kai. You are easily one of our best, and have clearly outgrown the expert class.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, clearly not wanting to take advantage of him, and he bites his tongue to keep from beaming at the thought.

“It would be an honour, Y/N.”

The grateful smile you level him with has his heart pounding in his chest. Were you really so oblivious about the effect that you had on him, on everyone in any room you were in?

“Thank you, Sensei. I won’t let you down.” He plans on taking that promise to its absolute limit.

“One stipulation, Y/N, if you don’t mind,” he presses, giving you a slight smile. You cock your head at him, waiting, though he gets the sense that you’ll accommodate anything he asks for.

“Allow me to speak with you once beforehand, to get a better sense of your goals and to develop a training regimen. Perhaps over dinner?”

Christ, when was the last time he had felt nervous about anything?

You blink, seemingly speechless. Terry thinks he detects the faintest hint of a blush on your cheeks, but doesn’t want to give himself too much credit.

“You want to take me to dinner?” you ask, tone slightly incredulous.

“I could ask my personal chef to cook us a meal. It would give you a chance to see the dojo before we get started.” He pointedly doesn’t address your shock at him asking you out, hoping to subtly reframe the evening as a purely professional one; he can’t have you getting cold feet, not now. He just had to get you there, get you alone, and he could win you over. The thought of training you in a dozen other things before you even get started on karate dances through his mind, and he suppresses a groan. It wouldn’t do to lose focus now; you always kept him on his toes.

“Could…could I go home and change first?” you ask, looking down at your gi. It’s strange, seeing this more hesitant, shy side of you, but he finds that he enjoys it just as much as your typical fierce attitude. And, more importantly, this wasn’t a no.

“Of course. I can have a driver pick you up in a few hours – my home is rather difficult to find if you don’t know where to look.” He knows he’s laying it on thick with the show of wealth, but he can’t contain his excitement; if he has his way, he’ll be spoiling you for the rest of his life and beyond.

“Oh, that’s… wow, alright. I guess being the best student has its perks, huh?” you joke, and he smiles encouragingly at you. You scribble down your address – as if he didn’t already know it – on a piece of paper and hand it to him.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, then?” you say hesitantly, and he’s fully enjoying your nerves, now.

“I’ll see you then, Y/N,” he replies, trying to keep the purr from his voice. You give him a shy smile as you throw your bag over your shoulder, exiting the dojo and missing the pleased grin he directs at the back of your head. Having watched you leave, Terry immediately moves to collect his own things and head home.

There was much to prepare for.

--- Reader’s POV ---

The car finally breaks through the treeline after what feels like ages, driving smoothly up to a gorgeous estate. You knew that Mr. Silver was very well-off, but to live in a place like this… then again, he was offering to train you in his private dojo, so perhaps this shouldn’t be so surprising to you.

Looking down at your hands, twisting around themselves in your lap, you hope that you’ve dressed appropriately for the evening. What, exactly, was one meant to wear to a private dinner at your sensei’s gigantic house to discuss karate? You had settled on a simple summer dress, the green complimenting your hair and skin tone wonderfully, and a pair of wedges, keeping your hair down in loose waves and your makeup simple.

The driver stops the car – having a driver, that was strange for you as well – and you nervously hop out before he can come around and open your door for you. You weren’t the Queen of England, you could get out of a vehicle on your own. He guides you up to the front door, ringing the bell, then nods to you and turns to, presumably, go park the car.

“Thank you!” you call after him, not wanting to be rude, and then you hear the door open behind you. Turning, you see an older woman at the door, smiling warmly at you.

“Ah, Miss L/N. Please come in, and I’ll take you to Mr. Silv –”

“No need, Janet, thank you. I’ll take it from here.”

Mr. Silver approaches from a room off to the left, looking decidedly more relaxed in a pair of tan slacks, a white button-up shirt and a royal blue blazer, his hair out of its signature ponytail and framing his face. You hadn’t thought it was possible for someone to appear so at home in a place as luxurious as this, but he does, and you’re happy for him. Hopefully, these private lessons from him would help you become even half as successful as your sensei.

“Welcome to my home, Y/N. I’m glad you could make it,” he greets you warmly, and you smile at him. You would not ruin this opportunity for yourself, even if you were a bit nervous about how to behave in this situation.

“Thank you, sensei, and thank you again for sending someone to pick me up,” you reply graciously.

“Sensei is reserved for training, Y/N. Please, call me Terry outside of the dojo.”

You nod your head in acknowledgement, hoping to keep things straight in your head. You didn’t often have relationships with people that transcended more than one social circle; it complicated things, made them messy as the lines blurred. You didn’t think that that would happen with Terry – he was on such a different level from you in every way – but you wanted to be aware of the possibility.

“Thank you, Terry. It’s so… strange, seeing you outside of the dojo.” You want to acknowledge the difference in the setting, but think that you may have come across a bit standoffish, and try to recover. “I’m so used to the ponytail,” you joke, gesturing to his hair, and his lips twitch in amusement.

“Yes, well it doesn’t get in the way when I’m just relaxing at home. You look lovely,” he compliments, approaching you with his hands in his pockets. “I’ve just spoken with the chef, and we have a half hour before dinner. Would you like to see the dojo now, or can I offer you a drink?”

You pause to consider this, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. You didn’t want to refuse his hospitality and make it seem like you were only here for the training he would offer you by wanting to get right into the dojo, and perhaps a drink or two would help you loosen up…

“A drink would be lovely, Terry, thank you.” He smiles, gesturing down the hall with an arm, and you follow him, taking in each new room with a sense of wonder. It was all warm, comfortable, relaxed… not at all what you would have expected from viewing just the exterior of the house.

Eventually, he leads you into a parlour with a collection of liquor bottles, one wall made completely of glass, looking out onto a large balcony and the gardens below. Smiling at the dwindling sunlight streaming in through the windows, you find yourself briefly distracted.

“Wine?” Terry asks, having selected a bottle of red. You nod to him, and he seems to take a long moment to look at you before pouring two glasses. Bringing both with him, he hands you a glass, which you accept gratefully, thanking him quietly.

“Come on, I’ll show you outside,” he says, a knowing tone in his voice. He was so good at reading people, anticipating their thoughts and actions; you supposed it was a necessary skill to have, both for teaching and for karate. You smile, and follow him to the door leading out to the balcony, walking up to the balustrade to get a full view of gardens below. They were massive, seeming to stretch out forever, and were so lush and full. You sigh longingly as you take in the view.

“You get to come home to this every day?” you ask, awe evident in your tone. “It’s incredible!”

“It’s refreshing to see someone appreciate it,” Terry replies, coming to stand beside you. “I think I’ve come to take it for granted.”

“I don’t think I could ever get used to this…” you murmur. Terry is quiet, seeming content to let you take in your surroundings, the two of you drinking your wine in a comfortable silence. After awhile, a member of the staff finds the pair of you out on the balcony to inform you that dinner is ready. Following him through more spacious rooms of the home with Terry, you find yourself feeling far more comfortable than you had when you had first arrived, and couldn’t attribute it all to the wine.

--- Terry’s POV ---

The evening had been very successful so far, Terry thinks to himself as he surveys you from across the table. He can’t remember the last time he’s shared a meal with someone in his own home when it wasn’t for some business matter or another, and he finds that he has missed it.

He had been awestruck upon first seeing you at his front door; having never seen you in anything other than your gi, you were particularly striking in your soft green dress, your hair flowing down your back. You had been clearly nervous at first – hell, he couldn’t judge you for it; he was nervous himself – but had adjusted quickly, and he found himself impressed by your tenacity.

The look on your face as you had taken in sight of the garden, the sunlight illuminating you, had briefly taken his breath away. You were radiant even without the sun’s glow, but in that moment you had looked so serene he had been positively enchanted by you. He hadn’t planned on taking you outside, but he couldn’t resist giving you exactly what you wanted. He could see that happening a lot with you, should things progress the way he intended for them to.

You had opened up more once you had moved inside, telling him about yourself and asking about him in return. Ordinarily, Terry was rather cautious – if not outright reluctant – to divulge personal information about himself, but he found it easy to open up to you.

Having asked you further about your motivations to study karate, you had become more animated in your responses, speaking about your desire to make something of yourself, and to leave a lasting mark on the world. Again, Terry finds himself recognizing the similarities between you, especially in how you saw the world and your respective places in it, and he finds himself in a difficult position.

What would be the greater legacy for him to leave behind: training you to be the best and being your mentor, or pursuing a relationship with you that would, if he had his way, last as long as you both should live? He finds himself wrestling with complicated feelings, wholly unaccustomed to trying to prioritize someone’s hopes and dreams over his own.

But he had sacrificed before; he could do it again, and being your mentor would most assuredly connect your names together in history. There was something beautiful, poetic even, about that, and it eliminated the possibility of rejection, of failure. Terry decides to shift his goals again; he’s put love on the backburner his entire life, and he can do it again, at least until he’s cemented himself as a keystone to your success. He would have something that tied the two of you together, at least, and perhaps that would be enough.

He can’t help but take in the way your eyes glimmer in the candlelight with a slight smile, ignoring the slight clenching of his heart. Let him do something good and selfless for once in his miserable life.

You both finish your meal, and he offers to show you the dojo, the excited smile you give him making him ache in a way he hadn’t experienced.

--- Reader’s POV ---

After several months of intensive training, you truly felt like you were on top of the world. You felt almost as tall as Terry, your confidence having reached new heights. Terry had been incredible, working with you as often and as hard as he had, like your success was intrinsically tied to his own. You had appreciated everything he had done, and was doing for you more than you could ever say.

Having finished your session for the day, you both step off the mat, moving to get water and take a brief rest before you went home for the day.

“So, what’s next, Terry?” you ask, always excited to learn more. Terry doesn’t respond, and after a moment you look over to him seated on the bench, radiating tension.

“You know, Y/N, I’m not sure if I have anything more to teach you,” he replies, his large body caved inward slightly, like he’s being crushed by some heavy weight. You had learned to read him somewhat in your time together, and think he’s disappointed.

“I’m sure that’s not true, Terry. I don’t think it’s possible for you to run out of knowledge,” you say, smiling encouragingly, but he scowls.

“Well, I have. This is over,” he says firmly, harshly. Some of his hair has come out of his ponytail, and he’s got a frustrated, defeated energy radiating off of him that you’re not sure what to make of.

You bite your lip, debating what to do. While you had definitely become more comfortable around Terry during this time together, you wouldn’t exactly call yourself his friend. What were the boundaries of this relationship after all of this? Should you give him space or offer to listen? Throwing caution to the wind, you decide on the latter.

“Will you tell me what’s really wrong?” you ask softly, sliding closer to him on the bench, trying to coax the truth out of him. He barks out a humourless laugh, throwing his head back, before he levels you with a serious, almost cold expression.

“It’s you.”

“I…what?” you ask, confused and hurt, and he seems to burst, leaping off the bench to his feet and whirling around to face you.

“It’s you!” he repeats, getting louder, and you’re not sure which emotions you detect in his voice, only that there are many of them and that they all seem to be entangled within one another.

“I am an old man, Y/N. I am old, and I am alone. I’d come to terms with that years ago, really I had,” he rambles, words flowing quickly from his lips without much thought. He was never like this; he was like you, looking before he leaped. What had happened?

“And then you walk into my dojo, and it’s like I’m seeing the sun rise for the first time.”

You stiffen, your eyes going wide, but he’s not even looking at you right now, pacing up and down the edge of the training mats like a caged animal.

“I thought I could be professional. I thought I could be your teacher, your mentor, and that that would be enough. Then, I thought up a dozen ways to try to win you over, to sweep you off your feet, to make you see… I’ve gone back and forth so many times, and every time you’ve done nothing but draw me in deeper. I’m trying to do what’s right, harder than I’ve ever bothered to try before, and now that’s it!” He turns suddenly to look at you, his eyes wide and searching, though for what you’re not sure.

“I’ve taught you everything I could, and now there’s nothing for you here anymore. Nothing to keep you here with me.”

He looks broken, and you’re stunned into silence by his revelation. Terry had feelings for you? The very idea seemed ridiculous. He was older, wealthy, successful, talented… you had never bothered to even consider him in that way; what would be the point, since it would never be reciprocated? Thinking about it now, though…

You had admired him from the moment you met him, respecting his dedication to his craft and his students. He had shown such wisdom in the dojo, and had fascinated you with his stories and experience. Over the past few months, you had become so comfortable with each other, and you had gotten to see his humour, his kind heart, his passion… And even you had recognized from the very beginning that he was incredibly attractive, especially for a man of his age, but again, you had pushed that kind of thinking out of your mind the second you accepted that it wouldn’t do anything for you but get you distracted.

He had been supportive, generous, shared his life and his home with you, and you had come to cherish the connection you had together. What was that if not love?

Looking over at him, where he had retaken his seat on the bench, slumped in a defeated position, it’s like you’re seeing him with fresh eyes. This man had loved you, presumably for quite awhile, and instead of acting on it had been nothing but professional, putting you and your needs above his own without you even realizing it. He had sacrificed so much, and even now was only upset that he had nothing else to offer? What a ludicrous notion. He had become your everything.

Getting up off the bench, you move silently to walk around in front of him, bending to his eye level. He doesn’t even seem to notice that you’re there, his eyes closed in defeat with his head in his hands, and now you feel like the idiot for not recognizing your own feelings sooner.

Tilting your head, you lean closer to him, pressing your lips to his softly.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, staying perfectly still, and you pull back a bit, looking at his face. His eyes flutter open, and he looks at you, confused.

“Why would you do that?” he demands, his voice low and hoarse. You nibble your lip nervously.

“To apologize, for not recognizing your feelings,” you say, and you think you see the light leave his eyes, pain evident on his features.

“And for not recognizing my own,” you add in a whisper. His gaze snaps back to yours, intense once more.

“What…?” is all he manages to get out in a choked voice.

“I never thought you would see me in that way, Terry, so I didn’t bother letting myself see you like that either. We’re from two different worlds, you could have anyone you wanted –”

“Not anyone,” he corrects pointedly, and you take a deep breath.

“Yes,” you counter, reaching out to take one of his hands in your own. “Anyone.”

He seems to freeze again, his eyes staring past you into the distance, into nothing, and you wait, knowing he needs a moment. Sure enough, his eyes soon snap back to yours, and he slowly stands up, closing the space between you with his large body so close to yours. He reaches up slowly, as though he doesn’t want to startle you, taking your face gently in both of his large, warm hands.

“You want me?” he whispers incredulously, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You swallow.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it until now… Yes, Ter –”

Your confession is cut off suddenly as he pulls your face none-too-gently up to his, kissing you with a fierce joy that takes your breath away. His arms wrap around you, one at your waist and one around your upper back, hand tangled in your hair. You gasp into his mouth, hands coming up to clutch the top of his gi, pulling him down to you, overwhelmed by the desire that courses through you.

You could kick yourself for how stupid you’d been these past few months, wasting all this time together, but that would mean you would have to stop kissing him, and you’d already spent more than enough time doing that.

He is the one to break the kiss first, his blue eyes dark as he looks at you in his arms with thinly veiled wonder, and you feel your knees go weak. No one had ever looked at you like this before; you hadn’t thought that anyone ever would. You smile up at him shyly, your heart pounding in your chest. You can’t remember ever feeling this happy, this complete, standing in his arms.

“I adore you, Y/N,” he admits reverently, resting his forehead on yours. Tears spring to your eyes at his words, and he wipes them away gently with his thumb before you even realize they’re there. You let out a breathless laugh, hardly able to believe your ears, your heart singing.

“I love you, Terry,” you reply, and the smile that he gives you in return nearly brings tears to your eyes again. He scoops you up into his arms, sitting on the bench with you on his lap, kissing you soundly. You wrap your arms around his neck, toying with his hair, toes curling in delight. Gradually, you move to shift in his lap, straddling him, never breaking your kiss. His hands come around your hips, and you feel something primal course through you as you feel him getting hard against you.

He leans back from you, breaking the kiss again reluctantly, almost shyly.

“We don’t have to do this now, or here,” he tells you, considerate and gentlemanly as always, and you grin at him.

“It seems oddly appropriate though, doesn’t it?” you reply coyly, gazing at him with lust in your eyes. “And you’ve waited long enough, haven’t you, sensei?”

His eyes go nearly black in desire and he growls at you, taking your gi in his hands and somehow shredding the clothes off of you in his haste to get at you. You may have poked the bear a bit too much with that comment, you think to yourself as he tears your bra from your body, leaving you in only your underwear on his lap.

“I think I have more to teach you after all, my dear,” he purrs, his mouth closing around one of your nipples and making you moan, digging your nails into his scalp and clutching him to your chest.

“Please, Terry, show me everything,” you beg desperately, throwing your head back as he toys with you.

“Oh, I intend to,” he promises, picking you up and turning to deposit you on the bench, taking off his own gi. You find yourself licking your lips as he pushes his pants past his hips, whimpering as his cock is bared to you. Fuck, this man was gorgeous.

Trembling slightly, you come to stand on the bench, now almost the same height as him as you push your underwear down your legs. His arms come around you, hands gripping your butt firmly, and your knees nearly buckle, but he’s there, he’s everywhere, supporting your weight with his body.

You pull his hair out of its ponytail, tangling your fingers in it as you tug him closer to you.

“Take me, Terry. I need you,” you ask him breathlessly, staring into his eyes, reading the love in them and hoping that your own eyes reflect the same growing devotion.

Not hesitating, he takes you in his arms once more, your legs coming around his waist like they were always meant to be there, and he carries you over to the wall of the dojo, bracing you against it before gently lowering you onto his cock. You whimper as he enters you, and his eyes roll back in his head as he sheathes himself fully in your tight, wet heat.

“Oh God, Terry!” you groan, feeling so deliciously full of him, your nails digging into his back. Supporting you with his hands around your butt, he sets a slow pace of lifting you up off his cock before dropping you back down again. Slow and rough, it’s perfect, and you can’t get enough, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you moan.

“Fuck, you’re perfect, Y/N. I knew you would be,” he croons in your ear, and you’re again stunned as you recognize how long this man has desired you.

“Made for you, Terry, only you!” you cry out, lifting your head to capture your lips with his own again as you grind your hips against him, feeling deliciously sinful. The pace of his thrusts increases, as though he’s urgently needing to make you his, but you meant what you said. This man was it for you; there would be nobody else.

“Yesss,” he hisses against your lips. “My woman, my everything.” You both tighten your grip on one another at his words, like you’re wanting to claim the other even more. Your orgasms hit you at the same time, and you both cry out the other’s name in your ecstasy, your pace slowing until you’re both just wrapped up in one another. You realize you’re crying again, and he kisses your tears away as they fall.

Reluctantly, he lowers you to the ground, but keeps his arms wrapped around you, unwilling to let you go completely, and you share the sentiment, nuzzling into his chest.

“You have given me everything, my treasure,” he murmurs against your hair, kissing the top of your head, and you tilt your head up to look at him, still teary-eyed.

“So have you,” you admit with complete sincerity, and he smiles at you, stepping away to retrieve your clothes.

“Oh, you have no idea what I’ve got in store for you. We’ve only gotten started,” he promises, handing your underwear to you. He pulls the pants of his gi back on, but holds his top in his hands, taking in the scattered scraps of fabric that were your gi. Smiling at you, he approaches, wrapping his top around you and tying it to you, big enough on you to look like a full robe.

He ties the obi around your waist, taking in the kana on either end that read Sensei Silver. It seemed appropriate. He takes your hand and looks you over, hair mussed, face flushed, smiling brightly at him as you wore his gi, and feels like the luckiest man in the world.

“Come with me, my dear,” he purrs, leading you to the exit of the dojo. “We’ve got some planning to do.”

---

#terry silver #thomas ian griffith #terry silver x reader #cobra kai #smut #sensei targaryen #brb made myself cry #kk3 #karate kid #the karate kid 3

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little-miss-doe · 1 year ago

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As a cane user, I'd like to hyper-obsess on Percy using a cane for a bit.

When we see him in Campaign 3 he's in his mid to late 50s. While it's not rare that someone of that age would use a cane (hell, I've been using a cane when needed since my mid 20s) there are some some interesting observations to be made.

From a purely game mechanics perspective Percy had the highest DEX score of any regular player character, at 22. Of course that doesn't perfectly equate to mobility, speed, or agility. He definitely face-planted a number of times throughout Campaign 1. And DEX influences things like stealth and tinkering and initiative as well. It's still reasonable for a character with a cane to have an utterly ungodly DEX.

Mostly I want to talk about the portrayal, context, and what this might mean for what's happened since we've last seen Percy 30 some years ago.

His use of a cane is only made note of in a single episode so far (Campaign 3, Episode 36) but he's also depicted with one in the family portrait seen in the Tal'Dorei Reborn book that came out about 9 months prior to that episode. At the time the book came out I had mostly passed off the cane as something of an affectation for the portrait or a family heirloom or something along those lines. In light of actually seeing him use a cane, it makes what is an "in universe" depiction of him in the family portrait with one rather telling. Combined with obviously having it in front of a group of total randos like Bells Hells, it's safe to assume it's just generally known he uses a cane.

Then 2 episodes later, a.k.a. a few hours later, when Percy shows back up in the story a cane is not mentioned again. So he isn't using it all the time. And that's fair, before we were catching him just after dawn and he is described in a way of a person that's recently woken up, with also not getting sleep. Getting going in the morning can be difficult.

Now for speculation mode. Is this the result of mundane wear and tear? Some injury post-campaign? Maybe the result of something sinister?

While I can't fully rule out the sinister option as ... well ... one of the major back story elements of Campaign 3 was literally Keyleth getting attacked for sinister reasons, there are no indicators of this being the case.

Simple mundane wear and tear after years of adventuring, regular life, and ageing would be the most realistic. But this is Percy, so ...

That brings us to the possibility of some kind of injury. To be honest this feels like the most likely knowing his tendencies. But there's also the issue of magical healing in D&D, which is always been it's own can of worms. This is possibly the case that I'll expand on later.

#critical role #percy de rolo #I just have a lot of thoughts okay

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cryptidkeepp · 6 months ago

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(ben robson) [THE SEA DEVIL]. Please welcome [JETT HARRISON (HE/HIM)] to Huntsville, WV. They are a [35]-year-old [VISITOR] who lives in [COMMUNE]. You may see them around working as a [MANAGER at O’CONNOR’S OUTDOORS]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

GENERAL.

full name: jett spencer harrison

nicknames: tbd

title: the sea devil

hunter / gatherer: hunter

birthplace: kitty hawk, north carolina

gender / pronouns: cis man, he/him

age / birthday: 35, april 3rd

orientations: heterosexual, heteroromantic

occupation: manager at o'connor's outdoors

location: commune, visitor

status: single

family: nancy harrison ( mother ), wyatt harrison ( father ), tbd harrison ( sister ), malakai harrison ( son )

strengths: bold, adventurous, protective, playful, funny

weaknesses: immature, mischievous, non-committal, impulsive, reckless

character inspo: tim riggins (friday night lights), john b (outer banks), michael kelso (that 70's show), bart simpson (the simpsons), han solo (star wars), kevin ball (shameless), flynn rider (tangled), mac (it's always sunny in philadelphia), jayne cobb (firefly), steve harrington (stranger things)

BIOGRAPHY.

born and raised in kitty hawk, north carolina. jett is the oldest of two, he always loved his younger sister but they were known to fight like rabid raccoons. his father and mother owned a seafood market that they diligently ran together and both kids would help with after school.

he was a hyperactive child that later grew to be a rebel without a cause ( literally without a cause, he had a good life ). a class clown and an adrenaline junkie, with a habit of trouble making. his parents tried many ways to tire him out and keep him occupied so it would deter him from doing stupid stuff, getting into fights, or later in life getting arrested or killed.

there were many trials and errors but eventually jett found his solace in surfing and skateboarding, along with other outdoor activities. he became a professional surfer when he was sixteen and started going around the world for competitions and such. he eventually got his g. e. d. so he didn't have to worry about school anymore. when he wasn't surfing he was doing things with extreme sports and x-games, skateboarding, biking, dirt bike racing, etc. anything for the thrill.

his career started to slow down in his late twenties and he didn't mind because it gave him freedom to travel on his own accord and chase the monster waves, meet new people, etc. it was how he ended up driving his van ( affectionately named petunia ) right into huntsville in 2021.

it's been an adjustment for sure but he's found ways to stay entertained. he still skateboards, works at o'connor's outdoors, and tries to keep himself occupied. most nights he can be found sleeping in petunia outside the commune or in someone else's bed. last year he ended up in a casual relationship that resulted a son several months later. ever since he was born he's been trying to figure out how to grow up, at least a little bit, and be more responsible to not only make her trust jett to be alone with his son but also to be a good dad in general. only time will tell if he gets it right.

QUICK CONNECTIONS.

people who knew him before

friends, drinking/party buddies

mother of his son

little sister

hookups/fwb

co-workers

people he does stupid stuff with

best friend

HEADCANONS.

has a volkswagen van named petunia that has a bed and some amenities in that he is used to living in but still is part of the commune and contributes to that community

has commitment issues mainly due to the fact that he's used to getting dumped for his lifestyle and has grown to just stop trying long before he got to huntsville

more to come

#jett.intro #huntsvilleintro

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bumblebee-art-blog · 6 months ago

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Spider-Man Original Character Trivia #1: Ollie Octavius (The Blogs were I ramble about my OCs for no particular reason!!)

“I grew up thinking that everything was an opportunity to justify existing, but there are people out there that won’t make you feel worthless. You just gotta let yourself meet them” - Amity Blight (Owl House)

My second favorite trauma OC. The Illegitimate daughter of Otto Octavius and Mary Alice Anders, one of the Doc Ock successors in the multiverse. The Octavius that actually stopped the generational trauma cycle that is the curse of having the Octavius name.

Here’s some general, 616, and OOC fun facts about her! Yippee :D

General Character Fun Facts:

- Ollie’s full name is Olivia Rosalie Octavius. Her second name is a reference to Rosalie Octavius from Raimi’s Spider-Man 2.

- Ollie prefers the nickname “Ollie” over “Liv” because she has the opinion that Liv sounds ‘too feminine’.

- Really good ice skater!

- Listens to Electro Swing.

- Her favorite music artists would be Mitski and MARINA.

- Caffeine drinker.

- Very much autistic, but Otto has not taken her to get an official diagnosis (she inherited her autism from Otto).

- She is almost identical looking to her mother.

- Ollie has one of those small octopus plushies in her bedroom.

- She has a poster of the musical ‘Fiddler on the Roof’ in her room also. (Alfred Molina reference)

- In nearly every universe, she is the one who breaks the generational trauma from the Octavius family. “The Octavius Curse” as some would call it.

- Surprisingly good with kids.

- Despite inheriting Dr. Octavius’s brains, she inherited Mary Alice’s empathy.

616 Specific Fun Facts:

- Ollie was born months after Dr. Octavius broke off his engagement with Mary Alice.

- She is the most stable variant of Ollie Octavius. Which doesn’t say much since she still has her own set of issues.

- She is comfortable enough to wear glasses, unlike her variants who wear contacts (she only uses reading glasses though).

- Ollie had to take care of her mother when she was revealed to have AIDS, but ended up becoming an orphan in her late teens.

- Like most of her variants, Ollie goes more to inventing than science (doesn’t mean she doesn’t have her scientist side).

- She created her own, better, non-evil mechanical actuators just to avoid physical contact and to multitask. (They do still have friendly AI just so she can feel some sense of company)

- She’s actually a really chill gal (unless sleep deprived), but she can be extremely hard on herself and has definitely had plenty of panic attacks (this goes for every variant).

- Ollie still craves her father’s affection.

OOC Fun Facts:

- She was the last OC of the Spidey Crew I created.

- Her sweater being green with yellow is a reference to Doc Ock’s suit.

- Her hair was supposed to look like an octopus but I don’t think the design worked out too well.

- Her age varies depending on the universe.

- Her daddy issues are extremely loosely based on my own daddy issues (take from irl experiences for OC ideas, kids)

- Her voice claim would be Mae Whitman (Amity Blight- Owl House)

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lovemesomesurveys · 1 year ago

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What's the most worthwhile thing you've done in the last year? Time spent with family, doing things I enjoy, and taking care of health related issues.

What foods make you want to gag? One is Canadian bacon. It's a texture thing.

Do you consider yourself to be organized? Not so much these days, but I used to be. I'd still like to be, but it's hard right now.

Have you ever made out with someone? Yeah.

What time do you get sleepy? I'm sleepy all day.

What music do you listen to? I like variety.

How old were you when you started to walk? I never got to that stage, I was a victim of a drive-by shooting at just 7 months old.

Which member of your family do you get along with the best? I get along with all my family, but I'm not close with all of them. I'm closest to my mom and younger brother.

What cheers you up when you're sad? I just kinda have to go through it. I'm kinda just a sad person.

What do you sleep in? An oversized tee.

Have you ever tanned topless? Nooo. I would absolutely not feel comfortable doing that. I don't even go tanning at all, really. I mean, if I'm at the beach I'll get some sun cause I spend several hours out there, but that's not what I'm there to do. I don't set out to tan, it's just a bonus. I just love the beach.

Wear jewelry? Yeah, but I had to take it off prior to surgery recently and I haven't put it back on, yet.

What's something you've been told you're good at? I've been told I'm a good writer.

How much can you eat? Not a lot, but it's enough for me. Like, I just had 4 rolled chicken tacos from Taco Bell and I'm full. I will say I've had more of an appetite lately and have been doing a lot more snacking.

What's the furthest away you've ever traveled? From California to Georgia.

Are you a cat or dog person? I'm a dog person.

Have you ever done drugs? Just weed.

What does your room look like? It's small and cluttered. I had to get a special hospital like bed that you can make sit up or lie down and it takes up more space than my old bed did. I also have a lot of medical supplies everywhere. Plus, there's an office chair we keep in here for my mom or whoever is chillin with me in my room. I also just have a lot of other stuff and my room is just too small.

Recommend a really amazing book. Depends what you like.

Recommend a really amazing song.

Recommend a really amazing movie. Not saying it's the most amazing movie ever, but I've been rewatching The Hunger Games movies before seeing the new one and I still think they're just as good as when I first saw them. I haven't rewatched them in a long time and I'm still a fan. It's not cringe at all like when I rewatched Twilight lmaoooo.

Who's your favorite actor/actress? Alexander Skarsgard.

Have you ever run away from home? No.

Do you exercise ever? I haven't done my arm exercises in awhile, I need to get back to that. I just recently spent 3 weeks in the hospital, so I lost some of my strength.

Do you like your hair, the way it is and the colour? No, I actually hate it. It's super short and choppy and has no style to it. It's all my natural color, too, which I'm not a fan of. I miss my long red hair D:

Do you have any friends named Baloo? Or is he just in the Junglebook? Uh, I've only ever heard that name in The Junglebook.

Are you a Disney movie fan? I love Disney.

Do you eat seafood? Noooo.

When was the last time you cried? Earlier today. I have those days/moments where I cry cause I mourn my old life and how some things used to be and I'm afraid because of my health it'll never be that way again.

Do you have good working habits? I don't work and I have no desire to work to be honest, but if I did I know I'd do my best and want to do well. I would definitely try.

So where the hell do you want to go in life? I don't know exactly, but I'm going the wrong direction right now that's for sure.

What are your boundaries? This is too deep right now.

What are some of the funniest things you can think of? >> predictably, I immediately forgot every funny thing I've ever encountered

What are two quirky little things about you? I don't know. I feel like that's something you'd have to ask someone who knows me well.

Are you claustrophobic? I can say with absolute certainty that I am. My MRI scans during my hospital stay recently confirmed yet again. It is HORRIBLE and I had to be sedated.

Do you like getting wasted? Blech, noooo. I stopped doing that 10 years ago and don't miss drinking at all. I don't even want to just have a drink or two, I want nothing to do with alcohol at all.

List three things that you look for in a friend. Someone I have stuff in common with, good sense of humor, and we just vibe, ya know?

Do you prefer Angels and Airwaves or Rhianna? .Rihanna.

What religion are you, if any? Christian.

If your house was on fire (and your family escaped), what would you save? .My family includes my doggo, so they're all safe and in that case I'd try to save whatever things of mine I could. I'd definitely have to get my meds, I'd want my phone, laptop, purse with my wallet, a hoodie... ugh it would be so hard cause obviously I'd want to save all my things but I just have too much.

Do you have any sash belts? No.

What do you have on right now? Include everything, nail polish, makeup, etc Undergarments, an oversized Barbie tee, a choker necklace.

Does caffeine make you hyper? Nope. It helps take some edge off, but otherwise it does nothing anymore. I just genuinely like coffee so I still drink it.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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jodilin65 · 9 years ago

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

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

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

I dreamed we moved to Europe, though I don’t know where in Europe. Nane might have been in the dream, too. Funny I should dream of her because I “sensed” her last night. Like she was considering contacting me or something. If she does, the smart thing to do would be to ignore her. The dumb thing to do would be to reply. Well, I would probably do the dumb thing because sometimes I just do dumb things. Warum würde das ändern?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love scary movies,” I told her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not. Very. Doable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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vamosaespana · 6 months ago

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D-Day

It’s here!!!!!! Crazy thing is that the packing of clothes got done on Tuesday and here it is Friday. Never have we (really I) ever been so on top of packing. The nice thing is that it allowed my brain to settle and think of those small things that would come in handy. Helpful tips from friends helped add those little things that sometimes you don’t think of. Thanks Krista for the idea of the tennis balls for our feet…goodness knows those will come in handy at the end of the day with all our walking. But of course in true Branson fashion…we were our minimalist selves and only used 3 large suitcases and one large duffle 🤦🏻‍♀️🤣 You would honestly think we were going to be gone for a month!

This time we decided to fly out of our local airport which made the journey there less stressful and we are looking forward to a nice short car ride home when we get back. I don’t know about you guys but there’s something to be said about the first night back that I love so I made sure bed sheets were changed and ready for us when we get back home. But enough about coming home let’s get there first!

Our littlest isn’t the biggest fan of flying. I planned ahead and let the doctor know and so now I’m ready. This time I was making sure we had all the meds/odds and ends that we needed to set us up for success. Thanks to a little Pinterest we were set….again probably why we needed more suitcases. Follow me for more minimalist ideas🤣🤣🤣

We get to the gate with plenty of time and as we board and get settled I give her some Children’s Benadryl to take the edge off and it seemed to work. Still a little fearful but not as much as before. Ride was a little bumpy to Minneapolis and slightly late which made the connection a bit rushed. Confusion at the ticket counter to Paris with people lining up but not sure who or when we were boarding did not make for the best of marital discussions but it gets figured out and we are on the plane headed to Paris. We have a brief layover in Paris and then will catch another flight to Barcelona. This is our first time flying Air France and getting to the plane feels like the boardwalk to the beach that my friend showed me from the Disney Cruise Ship to Castaway Key. Just wondering if we will ever reach the plane to board?

Well we finally get on and start looking for our seats and are completely turned around as there are no matching seat numbers to our tickets. Obviously the Flight Attendant could see our confusion. We give her our tickets and come to find out we were looking at the wrong tickets. We find our seats and get settled. I always get stuck in the middle as GB always needs leg room and now with 1 and 2 getting taller they need the leg room more than I. Despite the coziness in the middle the actual space isn’t too bad. And the food wasn’t bad either. There was a really good orzo pasta salad and then a pasta dish that was also pretty good. The kids ate all their food too so then you know it’s not that bad😋 Time to settle in for our 8 hour flight. This is the tough part. Dramamine is on board with our little so no issues with tummy so far 🤞🏼 apparently our MD recommended getting the meclizine version of Dramamine and so far couldn’t agree more! But the sleeping is where it gets rough. Theres a little kiddo sitting behind me so sleep isn’t in my cards as they currently are practicing their crane kick from Karate Kid 😑 GB already has a hard time falling asleep so for him the plane will be a tough one. 2 was the first to fall asleep…she has always been the good sleeper and even when little was always the one who put herself to bed. 1 surprisingly is asleep as well. He is definitely more my night owl so it’s surprising to see him getting some 😴 Hoping they all get some shut eye so that tomorrow (which is already today) isn’t a complete waste. Here’s to hoping 🙏🏻 ✈️

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alba8688 · 9 months ago

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Love hurts

Word count :2132

My alarm rang as usual at 6am meaning I had to get up to get ready for the day .I stretched myself in bed and looked to my side to see a sleepy Eddie shirtless. He was sleeping facing down his hair all over the place but he still looked beautiful.

Anything that boy did was hot even the way he slept .I admire him for a few more Minutes before I decided to get up because I had to pee really bad with a sigh I got up from bed to head to the restroom .

Just as I was about to get up he shot his hands to my waist and pulled me back into bed with him.

"You're not leaving me alone again ." He said sleepily his eyes were still closed .

"Baby I have to get ready for work ."I tell him

Softly placing a small kiss to the top of his nose .

"No,stay in bed with me ." He whined like a small kid

"Baby come on,or will be late. I want to get there early to grade some papers to hand them out today plus Nate and Ozzy are coming today ." He lets me go and gets up fast from bed pecking my lips beating me to the restroom.

I'm telling you he is more excited than I Am .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I'm glad today was Friday. I needed a break from teaching and I was excited because Nathan was coming to stay with me from today till February28. I had a lot of things planned for us this weekend.

Liam's mother had called me yesterday morning letting me know about the new court date on March 1st the only reason she agreed to this new court date was because she was getting stressed with Nate because his Autism and ADHD had gotten worse because she wouldn't give him

His medication or taking him to his therapies because she thought she didn't have anything that he was just a spoiled little brat who needed a good beating.that's one of the reasons she took him Away from us because in her head Liam and I were making everything up to make Nate stupid .

But why would we lie about what our son has?

He was diagnosed when he was just 3yrs old. He suffered from really bad anxiety and he couldn't be around where there were loud noises .

I remember when he was around a year old I was putting him down in his playpen. He started screaming and crying when one of his toys started making a really loud noise .

But back then I didn't know what was wrong with him.

But after Liam and I found out we understood everything he did .

How when he play with his toys he would align all the toys in s straight line

Or the fact he didn't start taking until a few months ago which I wasn't there for his first sentence and that killed me .I remember when they took him away from us he will Babble and point to things the only words he knew were mommy and daddy .

When Liam and I heard him say those words we were the happiest parents in the world,he was 3 when he said them.

There was also this time before we knew he had sensory ,we already knew he had Autism and ADHD but sensory wasn't diagnosed yet.

Sensory information includes things you see, hear, smell, taste, or touch. SPD can affect all of your senses, or just one. SPD usually means you're overly sensitive to stimuli that other people are not. But the disorder can cause the opposite effect, too. In these cases, it takes more stimuli to impact you.

I remember taking him to his diagnostician and her explaining everything to us .Liam and i where scared as Fuck we where both still really young I mean we still are but we learn to educate ourselves about Autism for our son .

"Sensory-seeking behavior in childhood is the tendency to seek out sensory experiences across the five senses: sound, smell, taste, sight, and touch. Many kids who have this issue are thrill-seekers. They like jumping off of high places, such as playground equipment."That was stuck in my head for a while. I was afraid Nate would hurt himself .

I remember a new year back here at Hawkins Dustin and his friends had made a bonfire in lovers lake which I went with Liam and Nate .

Nate tried touching the fire and almost burned himself but Dustin got him before anything could happen and that same night when the kids were popping fireworks he picked up a firework that had a small flame and burned himself. It wasn't that bad but Scared the shit out of us the way he screamed .

We never Let Nate out of our sight but the times when Liam and I had to go to class or work he was going to the daycare and we were so scared to leave him alone ,That's when Liam and I got him a dog His name is "Ozzy." And he is a certified service dog and Nate's best friend .

Ozzy has helped Nate a-lot actually his anxiety has calm.He also alerts us when Nate is having a panic attack or anxiety attack .

Ozzy is with Nate 24/7 .Ozzy is aSiberian husky.

Last night I ended up telling Eddie about Nate being in the spectrum and how he needed Ozzy with him 24/7 plus Ozzy was also part of our family.

Eventually Eddie put everything together .

Flash back last night

"Is that why in new years we were on the balcony the whole time?" eddie ask

"Yeah ,cause we knew Nate couldn't take the noise especially not having Ozzy with him,sometimes when is too loud he covers his ears and he says that the noise hurts him ,there was this time when we didn't know he had that, we went to an event Liam's mother was doing for charity and there was a lot people and alot of noise he started hitting his head on the table because he wanted the pain to go away ."I tell Eddie remembering that awful Night.

"Jesus Christ, is that bad? " eddie ask concerned

"Well he has actually gotten so much better especially when we got him his earphones that are soundproof ,but one thing we don't understand is how he likes to play the drums. You know it's loud but apparently he likes that sound ." I tell Eddie .

End of flashback

Eddie was ok with everything I told him ,he said that no matter what he still loved Nate and that he would get Gareth to teach him to play the drums and he would also teach him to play D&D.

Eddie is pretty excited knowing Nate would be staying with us for a month. I think he was more excited than Liam and I together .

Especially because he says he was getting another sheep for his Hellfire club .

Jesus Christ he was gonna take my son to the dark side with them .But I'm ok with that because I know my son would love them .

Last night Eddie went to sleep late trying to come up with a small campaign to introduce Nate to Hellfire club.

I love him for that .Eddie really is the best .

Now here I was grading papers and waiting for class to start .

Knock knock knock

The door to the class opens slowly making me turn my head to see who was walking in .

"Mommy !!!" I turn my head to see Nate and Ozzy walking in my classroom with Liam by his side .

Ozzy jumps into my lap and starts licking my face ."Hey buddy, you're excited to see me ." I cooed, giving him scratchies. His tongue was out to one side .

"Ozzy bear get down. I want to see mommy too ." Nate said sweetly to Ozzy who got down and sat on the floor .

Nate sat on my lap and hugged me, pecking my cheek "I love you mommy." He then starts making meowing sounds when he sees my sweater .

"Meow ,meow,meow !!" He says touching the cats on my sweater

"You like my sweater ?" I ask him

"Mhmm." He hums

"Can I have a kiss?" I ask for permission because sometimes he doesn't like to be touched .

"Yes ,here ." He says pointing to his cheek

"Mommy is pretty ." He starts playing with a strand of hair I have loose in the front of my face .

"Nate is pretty too ." I peck his cheek

"Daddy is pretty and Daddy Eddie is pretty too and a Rockstar." He says softly

I raised my eyebrow and looked at my son who was still playing with my hair making a messy braid.

Did he just call Eddie his dad ,a big smile grew on my face .

"Nate couldn't wait any longer to see his mommy so I brought him by ,is that ok ?" Liam says, sitting down on my desk .

"Yes !!is more than ok ." I say excitedly peppering kisses all over Nate's little face .

Nate scrunches his nose with all the kisses I'm giving him .

"Mommy ,mommy can I stay and teach your class today !??" Nate asks sweetly cupping my face with his tiny hands squeezing my cheeks .

"Yes,but you're gonna have to be really strict not giving out the answer to anyone ok ." I smile at him and kiss his forehead .

"Yes !!" He jumps off from my lap and runs to go sit at my desk and turns on my computer .Ozzy follows him laying down next to him on the floor.

"We can meet after work at my apartment ." I tell Liam standing up to open the door to the classroom.

Checking the time in my watch seeing that it was 7:30am .

"Yes Of Course call me if anything ,I'm actually gonna be here right now in school

The whole day I'm helping with this charity event for my mother ."Liam tells me excitedly ,maybe he was hoping to spend more time with me but I don't know , and I know Eddie wouldn't like that at all .

"Wow that's great ,I'll guess I'll see you around ." I fake smile not being too excited to spend more time with Liam,the only reason we talk was because of our son. If not I wouldn't talk to him at all and because of our app thing .

I groaned mentally but from the outside I had a fake smile.

"I want to be close to Nate as much as possible. I might look for a place here in Hawkins but I'm still undecided. All I know is that I'll move wherever you and Nate are ." He says walking closer to me, our faces inches apart .

Yeah ,what is he doing ?

His hand goes to my cheek but I move away from his touch. I don't know what he is trying to do .

Before when he did that I would melt for his touch but now I don't feel anything .

I wasn't gonna fall for him anymore. I had already suffered enough for what he did.I did forgive him but I wasn't in love with him anymore .

"Liam ." I said softly

"Dani ,I'm sorry I-I really want to work things out between us if you let me ." Did he just say that ?? I can't believe him he actually wants to work things out right now that I'm in a relationship with Eddie which is wrong in my part because im his teacher but fuck I can't seem to let go of him .He said what I w aged him to say so long ago and now here he was saying those I wanted to hear before . But now they mean nothing to me .

"Liam I can't, I love him ." I said softly

"Dani !! He can't give you what I can ,Jesus Christ !! He is still in High school !! What future do you have with him ." He whisper shout Moving his hands around

"I-I don't care if he doesn't have money ,I don't care about the stupid fancy shit ,because I love him ." I whisper shouted back at him .

We probably look like some kind of weirdos whispering shouting to each other .

"Dani, think about it please ." He leaned in to kiss my cheek ,I gently pushed him back putting my hand on his chest .

"Eddie!!!!"Nate runs from my desk jumping in Eddie's arms.Ozzy following behind.

My heart melts seeing my son so happy with Eddie and I’m also scared that Eddie might have heard something. Or worse for Nate to open his mouth and say something about Eddie and I.

Next chapter

#eddie munson #stranger things #love #lovers #hawkins high #hawkins #teacher crush #student #autism awareness #adhd

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bishiglomper · 1 year ago

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Cannot sleeeeeep. Have to w h i i i i n e

Woke up to stabbies. Been getting these electrical stabs the last couple weeks. Figure its fibro. I dont see why it would be my new pill. But my body picks a spot and then it feels like im being STUNG. REPEATEDLY. Tonight its the opposite spot of my scar's location.

And i hear beeping. I think its bro's alarm. He does not wake up easily. If i tell him to turn it off, he will and go back to sleep.

And the nephew keeps turning on the hallway light.

And I'm obsessing over a niece issue.

Bong water has not been using a litterbox. They're upstairs, i think she just isn't going upstairs anymore.

Conversation with niece went like:

"I picked up 2 piles of poop from bong water last night."

"You can take her back to my apartment whenever you want"

"Are you going to be there?"

"Nope."

"If i bring a litterbox down, will you help me clean it?"

"I dont do the litterbox at MY house."

Bitch. You do not deserve a fucking cat. Or any pet. She killed her rats from neglect.

If i wasnt so against returning poor helpless furbabies to the shelter for insignificant reasons...........

But also we already have FOUR CATS. We were supposed to stop at Cinderbelle. But then Pantera, Pooka and Reno happened....

We cannot own another cat. It's already been a month. If the landlord notices... 😣 We've babysat other animals before but like i said its been a month. Niece doesnt seem to have plans for leaving either. I guess shes fine paying rent for an empty house and just sleeping on our couch forever. If we kick her out, she'll just couch surf. At least her boyfriend is in jail.....ffs

I barely have the executive function to clean MY cats litterboxes, and they're right outside my door. For just this purpose. I'm not gonna be able to do a downstairs one. I cannot tote the container of litter between flights. Just. No.

I dont think i can tell her friend (original owner of bw) to take her because she lives with a toxic af mother and i dont think the situation is safe.

SO, WHAT DO D:

Also the house is so bad. Made worse by now cat shit all over the place. But everyone is really struggling physically, and between the house and our own bodies, our mental health is fucked up too.

Moms stomach is fucked. She does not want to eat. She does. She resorts to junk food when she gets hungry but i cant complain because she wont let us feed her otherwise.

And sissy fucked up her back. I dont know what all shes doing for it but shes done muscle relaxants, back brace and tens unit occassionally. She refuses a heating pad for some reason.

Lately my symptoms are fibro shit, stomach pain, asthma, a strained/tired back, and tachycardia. The tachicardia is the worst because it kicks up when I get up. And eat. It settles down when i rest. Also the asthma. Just going up/down the stairs makes me do this dry throat clearing kind of cough for the next 10 minutes after the tiniest pinch of exertion. And I've woken up gasping a few nights.

Those two need to see some fuckin doctors. Mine can't do anything for me, but at least I jump through those fuckin hoops. I see everyone. All the specialists. I'm trying my best here. I have some major flaws that im sure frustrate the family, but this irritates me that they won't see people.

Mom especially. The only appointments she has are for literal surgical consults and she flaked on ONE situation already. Next one is for somethig else. No idea if she'll ever do anything about her previous issue she needs fixed 🙄😤

And also my sister is going blind and has high blood pressure but won't take her medicine. Her reasoning is because then she'll have to order more and go through setting it up and shit. Executive function issues i guess. Mom has been setting it up and giving it to her but i never remember and sometimes she forgets too.

Like do you know how many pills i take to have some semblance of function and not die? This is also frustrating to see.

I don't know what to do about any of this.

If we got rid of the cat, the niece would disown us. Which honestly, if she werent already riding a fine line of unsafe i wouldn't mind so much, she'd get over it eventually. Once she had the maturity to. 🙄 Because it's not like it would be out of spite. But sissy is on eggshells making sure we dont push her away. Probably into the arms of another halfway house resident. 😒

Uuuhhgggg

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thewinedarksea · 3 years ago

Photo

myth moodboards: a river mermaid obsessed with autumn leaves

requested by @aesterea

#it would only be a month late were it not for the sleep issues :D #mermaids #mythedit #mine #*#mythmoodboard #that divine mischievous spark #aesterea

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once-upon-an-imagine · 2 years ago

Text

One Of Us - Eddie Munson & Steve Harrington

A/N: omg! I was able to complete this story! I really hope you guys like it cause it turned out to be really long but I liked how it turned out xD

Requests - Anonymous asked: i need more steddie x reader comfort plssss maybe when like the reader doesn’t feel good enough for them so she leaves them and theyre like ‘i know for a fact she didnt stop loving us’ and they somehow find out that she’s been beating herself up abt it and having breakdowns and really in need of them but she can’t go to them bc she doesn’t deserve them and just a lot of angst to the reader but comfort in the end??sorry this is long!!

- theweirdone2468 submitted: Hiiii!! I was wondering could you do steddie x reader where reader is/was always quiet growing up and has abandonment issues and easily left out and reader starts feeling left out and doesn’t know how to tell them. Basically angst to fluff please I love your writing!!!!

Warning: polyamorous!relationship (SteddiexReader); reader is feeling insecure and left out; mentions of sex; this is really angsty and super long; I think that’s it, but please let me know if I missed anything

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things :) gif isn’t mine :D

Your name: submit What is this?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

One Of Us

One of us is crying, one of us is lying In a lonely bed... staring at the ceiling Wishing she was somewhere else instead One of us is lonely, one of us is only... waiting for a call Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small Wishing she had never left at all

“Good morning, Buster” you smiled when you felt your dog getting on your bed and waking you up.

You opened your eyes and saw the beautiful Bernese mountain dog looking at you and you scratched the back of his ear. You remembered the day you and Eddie brought him home. You found him wandering the streets by himself and you didn’t have the heart to leave him there. So you brought him back home with you and begged Steve to let you keep him. Which wasn’t really that hard since he put up that act of ‘I-don’t-want-a-dog’ that was over as soon as he saw Buster’s eyes and now he was the one who spoiled him the most.

“Where are your dads?” you asked, sitting up. And then you saw a note on Eddie’s side of the bed. “Oh, right” you sighed, opening the letter, letting you know that Steve had to go to work early and Eddie was planning some big campaign, so he needed Dustin’s help.

You didn’t really mind it. But always asked them to wake you up before they left to say goodbye. You knew they wanted to let you sleep in on your day off, but you still missed them. You felt like you had been seeing less of them in the past few weeks. Either your work schedule would cross with Steve’s or Eddie’s campaign or new job after school, or they would come home really late when you were already asleep, or leave before you got up. You were still trying to get into the routine now that you have been in your new apartment for a few months, which is why all of you were working more. You loved your new apartment and you knew they did too, but you still couldn’t help but miss them.

At least, since it was your day off, that meant you could take their lunch and have some time with each one of them. And, your anniversary was coming up soon in a couple of days and you three will spend the entire weekend together. You smiled to yourself, getting up from the bed and bringing Buster with you.

“Come on, boy. We have a big day ahead of us!” you said, excitedly as Buster followed you around the apartment.

After finishing your chores and making lunch for your two boys, you put each of them in the lunchboxes you got them. Even if they were a bit childish, you knew Steve loved his green Ninja Turtles lunchbox, and Eddie loved his Scooby Doo lunchbox so much he even threatened everyone in Hellfire if they made fun of it.

You headed out the door with Buster by your side. You knew Eddie and Steve hated the fact that you were his favorite. No matter how much the two of them spoiled him since he was a puppy (even if they loved to deny it) if you were to make him choose, you were certain Buster would run to you. Because you had. Eddie tried endless times to get him to go over to him instead, but he went to you. Every single time.

You drove Steve’s car, thankful that they took Eddie’s van since you were, as Steve liked to say ‘a hazard’ driving a car that big, and you headed over to Hawkins High first. You walked out of the car and were immediately surrounded by Dustin, Mike, Will, and Lucas. Mostly because they loved Buster.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Dustin greeted you, happily as they approached you both and the other three did the same.

“Hi, guys, how are you?” you smiled at them as Lucas and Will knelt down to pet Buster.

“Hi, buddy!” Lucas said, happily as Buster started licking his face. He loved the kids almost as much as you and your boyfriends did.

“Have you guys seen Eddie? I brought his lunch for him” you smiled.

“Oh, yeah, he’s supposed to meet us in like ten minutes to go over something about the campaign” Dustin told you.

“He said something about handling a deal on the… benches like off campus or something” Mike said.

“Oh, yeah, I know where that is” you told them. “Thanks, guys! I’ll see you around” you smiled as you started walking to the spot where you knew Eddie handled most of his deals. “Come on, boy” you said, going with Buster.

You stopped when you heard someone laughing—someone who wasn’t Eddie. You stepped closer and saw Chrissy Cunningham sitting on one side of the table as Eddie dramatically fell to the floor and then got up, making her laugh.

"On the good news, flattery works with me so… 25% discount off your purchase, lovely lady” you heard him say with a smile.

You trusted Eddie wholeheartedly. Steve as well. But there were just a few moments where you couldn’t help but let your insecurities get the best of you. They were both really handsome men. You knew that. So, it didn’t help when perfect people, like Chrissy Cunningham, got their attention and he made her laugh the way he was doing it now. You knew Eddie and he did whatever he could to make people comfortable around him, and that’s probably what he was doing. But you hated the fact that sometimes it made an ugly feeling grow inside of you. One that always told you that they could do so much better than you. You tried to bury them deep inside. And you would think that it wouldn’t happen as much since you have been together for so long, living together and all. But you still had a bit of trouble controlling these feelings sometimes. You couldn't really help it. Everyone in your life had left at some point. Steve and Eddie were the people that had shown you what love really was. So you were constantly terrified that it would happen with them too. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Buster barked loudly when he saw one of his dads.

“Shit” you muttered. “Buster!”

“Is someone there?” you heard Chrissy ask, worriedly.

“Princess?” you heard Eddie walking towards you. “What are you doing here?” he smiled.

“S-sorry” you said, trying to calm Buster down. “We didn’t mean to scare you” you smiled looking at Chrissy.

“Oh, hello, (Y/N)” she smiled kindly at you. “Who is this cutie?” she asked excitedly when she saw Buster.

“Oh, this is my boy, Buster” Eddie said, grabbing him from you. He was going to walk over to Chrissy but Buster barked louder, startling her and running back towards you.

“Buster!” you said, kneeling down to pet him.

“Hey! We don’t do that!” Eddie scowled him. “Sorry, he’s usually really friendly” he apologized.

“That’s okay” Chrissy said, still a little nervous, and sat back down.

“Sorry” you said. “We were just um-” you said, putting Eddie’s lunchbox up. “Bringing your lunch” you said, smiling at Eddie.

“Oh shit!” Eddie said, realizing he completely forgot. “I’m so sorry, princess! I swear I’ll just be five minutes-”

“Oh, I can come back later-”

“N-no, don’t be silly. I know you two have to go to class soon” you said, handing Eddie his lunchbox, making his smile fall completely.

“But… we always have lunch together on your day off” he frowned. “I’m sorry I forgot, love, I swear-”

“No, love, it’s okay” you smiled at him. “We have some errands to run” you said, pointing at Buster. “And we also have to go give Steve his lunch” you insisted. “It’s okay, really, you have things to do” you told him.

“You sure?” he asked, still not convinced.

“Yeah, love” you insisted. “We should uh- get going” you told him. “B-bye, Chrissy” you waved at the cheerleader.

“Bye, it was so good to see you” she waved politely. It really didn’t help that she was so sweet.

“Hey” Eddie said, pulling you away a little. “Are you sure everything’s okay? I can be free in like five minutes-”

“Eddie, it’s fine, love” you insisted. “I know you still have to meet up with the guys to talk about the campaign” you told him.

Eddie sighed, still unconvinced but he did forget and it was his fault that his time with you was now cut short. He loved your lunches together. Especially fighting over who got the best post-it by Steve. But he thought maybe you were really running errands and he actually had to talk about the campaign with Dustin and some of the other guys.

“Okay” he gave up. “See you tonight? I’ll make it up to you, okay?” he smiled.

“You don’t have to make it up to me, love” you smiled but he leaned down to kiss you quickly on the lips and then the cheek and then the forehead.

“Too late. I’m doing it anyways” he said, making you giggle. “See you later, man” he said, kneeling down to pat Buster and kissing his head. “You take care of her, okay?” he said, before getting up. “I love you” he said, kissing your forehead again.

“Love you too” you smiled before walking away with Buster and Eddie went back to Chrissy. “Let’s go, boy” you told your partner walking back to the car.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Second stop, Family Video. You parked your car and opened the door for Buster to walk out with you. You put his leash on him, knowing that you had to keep him closer in busier places. You stopped right outside the door when a group of girls walked out of the store.

“I told you he was working today!” you heard one of them laugh with the rest. “He is so cute!”

“I think he’s into you” you heard another one tell the third friend as they walked the other way.

You looked inside and saw Steve leaning over the counter talking to two other girls. Again, you knew this was a regular occurrence. Your boyfriend was stupidly handsome and girls literally came in just to see him. But you trusted him. With your entire heart. It just made you feel uneasy sometimes when pretty girls basically threw themselves at your boyfriends. You knew Chrissy wasn’t throwing herself at Eddie. She had a boyfriend, as much of a jerk as he was, and she knew Eddie was with you and Steve. But sometimes, the girls that flirted with Steve didn’t know that. So, the ugly feeling tended to come back when that happened. Like now. You entered the store and saw the two girls laughing, a little too hard, at something that Steve was saying. And once again, your furry little friend gave you away.

“Uh, sorry, we don’t allow pets in here” Steve said before looking your way, but then he saw you. “Oh hey, sweetheart!” he said, smiling brightly at you. You noticed the two girls’ smiles drop and them glaring at you as Steve walked over to you, completely leaving them unattended, and gave you a kiss on your forehead. “Buster!” he said, kneeling down excitedly and petting him.

“Love, you have customers” you reminded him and he got up again.

“Right” he said, looking back at the girls. “Just one minute, okay?” he said, running over to the counter. You started walking around the store and browsing through the movies to get one for tonight. “Hello there, pretty lady” Steve said, appearing at the end of the hall you were currently in.

“Hi, love” you smiled at him.

“You’re here early” he frowned.

“Oh, yeah um… Eddie was busy so, we didn’t get to have lunch together” you explained, and then you saw his expression change. “What?”

“Shit, I’m sorry, sunshine” he told you. “Keith called this morning and he’s gonna be here in like ten minutes for a meeting so-”

“Oh” you said, feeling a little disappointed again. But it wasn’t Steve’s fault. Just like it wasn’t Eddie’s fault. They were just busy. “It’s okay, we just came over to bring you your lunch” you said, handing him his lunchbox. “We have some errands to run” you told him.

“I’m really sorry, sweetheart-”

“No, don’t be silly, love” you smiled. “I know you’re busy, and plus, I don’t think Keith would be happy to find Buster here” you insisted. “We’ll see you later tonight?” you smiled.

“Yes! I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that” you told him.

“Still going to” he said, giving you a peck on the lips. “I’m taking your favorite movie and we can all watch it tonight, okay?”

“But it’s your turn to-”

“Doesn’t matter” he insisted, grabbing the movie he knew you were going to reach for and smiling at you. “Okay?”

“Okay” you nodded, smiling at him. Steve leaned in to kiss you again when the bell of the door opening was heard again. “Shit, I have to go” he said, pulling away. “I’m sorry, love” he said, kissing your forehead. “I’ll see you tonight, alright? I love you” he smiled.

“I love you too” you said as he walked back to the counter to help the new guests. Girls again.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The days went by just the same. You barely saw them around. Even that day when both told you they’d make it up to you they came home when you were already asleep. It was now Thursday night and you were once again by yourself, making dinner, waiting for Steve and Eddie to come home. You thought you might finally get some time with them tonight and you had the weekend ahead which was reserved for just the three of you.

Including Friday, since Eddie didn’t have school because of some teacher conference so you and Steve asked for the day off. You were excited and you couldn't wait to have them all to yourself for three whole days. You missed them so much. And you were certain they missed you too. You heard Buster barking and running to the door and you heard Eddie’s van coming from outside, since it could be heard for like three blocks away, really. They were home.

“Hey, buddy” you heard Eddie coming through the door. “Hi, princess” he said, coming over to you as Steve greeted Buster.

“Hi, love” you smiled and then turned to Steve.

“Hey, sunshine” he said, kissing your forehead.

“Dinner’s almost ready” you told them, but your smile dropped when you noticed them share a look. “What?”

“Love, we’re going to Jonathan’s tonight, remember?” Steve said, frowning.

“Yeah, Argyle’s in town and we had this guys night planned with the kids and all-”

“Oh, right” you said, remembering when they told you about it a couple of days ago. You still couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. It was the first night in all week you had seen them. But at least you had the entire weekend ahead of you. “I guess I forgot” you smiled at them.

“Do you want us to stay?” Steve asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“No, don’t be silly” you insisted, smiling at them. “You guys go have fun, I’ll just watch a movie and go to bed early snuggling with Buster” you told them.

“Lucky Buster” Eddie said, pulling you from Steve, making you laugh a little.

“We’ll make it up to you on Sunday, love” Steve said smiling at you.

You froze a little and looked up at him and then Eddie with a frown on your face.

“Sunday?” you asked, confused.

“Yeah, I have to work all day tomorrow” he said as if it was obvious, walking over to your bedroom to get changed.

“And we’re using the free day to move forward in our campaign” Eddie told you, following Steve.

Your heart felt like it broke into a million pieces. Did they honestly forget? Maybe they were just messing with you and this was part of a surprise they would have for your anniversary.

“Wait, so you’re going to be busy all day tomorrow?” you asked, following them.

“Yeah” they shrugged as if it was nothing.

“W-what about Saturday?” you asked, thinking maybe they just forgot about tomorrow.

“Well, since we’re playing D&D all day tomorrow, the band is practicing on Saturday” Eddie explained as he changed.

“Yeah, and Keith asked me to come in the morning to train a new guy starting at Family Video” Steve said proudly.

You tried your best to smile since this meant he was getting more responsibilities and on his way to maybe becoming shift manager, but your heart ached horribly. They really just forgot all about your plans.

“S-so you’re going to be busy all weekend?” you asked, trying your best to not have your voice break.

“Not Sunday” Eddie replied. “We promise, Sunday is all yours, princess. Whatever you want” he said, quickly kissing your head and going over to get his keys. “Let’s go, Steve, we’re gonna be late!”

“But-”

“Sorry, sunshine” Steve said, mimicking Eddie’s actions. “We’ll make it up to you, okay? Promise!”

“I just-”

“Bye Buster” Steve said, patting him at the entrance.

“Take care of our girl, okay?” Eddie said as they left the apartment, closing the door behind them.

As soon as you heard Eddie’s van start again, you let the tears fall down your face. You couldn’t believe this was happening. They literally forgot your anniversary. Both of them. You ran over to the kitchen and grabbed the phone to call the two people that knew about your insecurities eating away at you. You heard it ring a couple of times before Nancy answered.

“Hello?”

“Nancy?” you asked, with your voice betraying you a little.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“Um… not really” you admitted. “Could you… maybe come over? Is Robin with you?”

“Yeah, of course, do you need us to bring anything?”

“No, I had actually made dinner for Steve and Eddie but they-”

“Ugh, let me guess, boys night? Mike made me drive him” she said, sounding annoyed.

“Yeah” you said, quietly.

“Okay, honey, hold on, we’ll be right there, okay?” she said. You could hear Robin in the background, grabbing whatever they needed. You could only nod before the line went dead and you sat on the floor. Buster was instantly by your side and you hugged him tightly to you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

On Friday afternoon, Eddie walked inside your apartment earlier than he thought he would. The guys at Hellfire were better at the campaign than he anticipated and they managed to complete it early. He would be more upset if it didn’t mean that he got to come home to you and that Steve would be out soon. He was even able to pick up some of your favorite brownies and pastries from a bakery you loved down the street.

“Hey princess, I’m home!” he called when he entered the empty apartment. He frowned, confused, and started looking around. You were always home by the time he got there, and if you weren’t, at least Buster would be home. “Buster? C’mere buddy!” he called whistling, thinking he was just being a little shit and not wanting to leave your side like he usually did.

He walked over to the kitchen but found it empty. He then went to your bedroom to see if maybe the two of you were taking a nap, but nobody was there. He was certain that you’d be out of work by now. He went over to the kitchen and grab the phone to call your work. But he got even more confused when Jonathan told him that you had taken the day off and the rest of the weekend as well. So, he decided to call Steve.

“What’s wrong, love?” Steve asked as soon as he heard Eddie’s worried voice.

“(Y/N) is not home and neither is Buster!” he said, panicking.

“What do you mean they’re not home? She should be out of work by now and Buster should be home!”

“I called her job, Jonathan said she asked for the day off! And the whole weekend!”

“What? Do you think she wasn’t feeling good and didn’t tell us?”

“But then she would be here! With Buster!” Eddie said, worriedly.

“Okay, love calm down. I will be home in ten minutes and we’ll figure this out, okay? Maybe she’s over at Nancy’s or Robin’s. Robin’s off today too!”

“No! I’m not staying here, I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to Wheeler’s!”

“Eddie-”

“I’ll be there in five minutes!”

Eddie and Steve were now driving around town, over to Nancy’s house. That was their first thought.

“Eddie, love, I know you’re worried, but you need to calm down! You’re driving like a mad man!”

“Why aren’t you more worried, Steve? She is nowhere to be found! She didn’t go to work and she took Buster with her!”

“What do you mean she took Buster with her-?”

“She doesn’t do that unless she’s going to visit either one of us!” he told him. “She always tells us when she has the day off and what she's doing! And she’s always home when we get there, Steve!”

“Eddie, calm down. I’m sure she has an explanation for this, okay? Maybe she’s having girls' night with Nancy and Robin and just forgot to tell us and she brought Buster because she hates leaving him alone-”

“She took some stuff with her” Eddie said all of the sudden.

“W-what?” Steve asked, feeling his heart drop. “What do you mean? What did she take?”

“Just some clothes and her toothbrush” Eddie told him. “Her pillow was also gone” he said, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “You don’t think she-” he sighed. “You don’t think she would leave, right?”

“Eddie-” Steve said, feeling a huge pain in his heart. He knew that Eddie always feared that either you or he would leave. Just like his parents did. “Of course, not! She would never do that!”

“I just-” he said as he parked outside of Nancy’s house. “I know for a fact she didn’t just stop loving us! But… why would she do something like this-?”

“Eddie, listen to me” Steve said, grabbing his hands. “She wouldn’t just leave, okay?” he assured him. “We both know that. I know that you’re worried, but I swear that this will all have an explanation, okay?” he said, placing one of his hands on Eddie’s cheek as a few tears rolled down his cheek.

“Okay” he whispered, nodding.

“I love you” Steve smiled, giving him a peck on the lips.

“I love you too” he said, trying to smile back.

“Let’s go get our girl, okay?” Steve said as they both got out of the car.

The two of them walked over and Steve knocked on the door. He was surprised when it was Robin who answered.

“Hey, dingus” she smiled at Steve. “Dingus number two” she said, turning to Eddie. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Rob, is (Y/N) here?” Steve asked.

“No” she replied as if it was obvious. “Isn’t she with you?”

“Hey, Robin who was at the door?” Nancy asked, coming over and looking at the two boys standing at the entrance of her house. “Steve? Eddie? What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re looking for (Y/N)” Eddie told her. “Do you know where she is?”

“What are you talking about? She’s supposed to be with you” Nancy asked confused.

“What?” Steve asked, starting to get worried.

“Didn’t you spend all day together?” Robin asked just as confused as Nancy.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked.

“Oh my God! She was right. You two actually forgot!” Nancy asked, getting upset.

“Forget what? Wheeler!” Eddie complained.

“Eddie, calm down” Steve said, grabbing his hand. “What are you girls talking about?”

“What day is today?” Robin asked them.

“Friday?” Eddie said as if it was obvious.

“Not the day of the week, you dingus! What date is today?” she repeated. And then, they saw the two boys pale and look at each other.

“Holy shit!” they muttered at the same time.

“Fuck! We both forgot our anniversary” Eddie said, feeling horrible.

“We had plans for the whole weekend together” Steve added. “How could we both forget?”

“Wait, but that still doesn’t explain why she’s gone” Eddie told them. “I mean, why didn’t she tell us? And when she’s angry she just stops talking to us but she doesn’t leave” he said.

The two boys noticed the girls sharing a look nervously.

“What?” Steve asked and they turned to look at him. They were certain that they knew something and weren’t telling them. “Robin!” he tried. He knew Nancy could take it to the grave, but Robin was a terrible liar.

“Well-”

“It’s not our place to say” Nancy interrupted her.

“Wheeler! We’re dying here!” Eddie begged.

“Nance, please, what are you two hiding from us? Is there something that we have to know?”

“Look… have you… have you noticed anything about her, lately?”

“What do you mean?”

“Has she been acting differently?”

“Different how? Look we’re really worried here okay? She’s not home! And she took Buster!” Eddie said, desperate. “Just tell us for fucks sake!”

“Alright, look” Nancy started. “She was really upset last night and she asked us to come over” she started explaining. “She said she’s been feeling a bit… neglected lately” she told them.

“What? Why?” Steve asked, feeling even worse.

“Well, you guys have been working a lot lately and so has she and she just said that it has been a long time since the three of you spent some time together so she was really looking forward to this weekend and you two idiots didn’t even remember!”

“Also how she feels insecure when you two flirt with other girls” Robin added.

“Robin!” Nancy widened her eyes at her.

“What? We don’t flirt with other girls!” Eddie asked, upset.

“Look” Nancy sighed. “You know that she has always struggled with being left out of things and people leaving her, right? She didn’t grow up in the best home-” she started.

“Yes, we know” Eddie snapped a little. “But we have made everything to let her know how much we love her! So we don’t really appreciate you accusing us of-”

“Eddie, love, calm down” Steve said, grabbing his hand again. “Nance, you know we would never intentionally make her feel that way-”

“I know” she nodded. “But she mentioned that lately, she started feeling a little… self-conscious about… some things” she explained. “A couple of situations, I guess, just added up and I guess you two forgetting your anniversary just made it even more real” she told them.

“Made what more real?!”

“She doesn’t feel important to you anymore!” Nancy blurted out, hating the hurt look on the boys.

“You have to be fucking kidding me!” Eddie muttered before he just walked away from everyone and back to his van.

“Look, we obviously fucked up, big time” Steve said brushing a hand through his hair.

“You think?” Robin told him and he glared at her.

“But we didn’t mean to! Of course, she’s important to us! She’s the most important thing in our lives!” he insisted.

“We tried to tell her that” Nancy told him. “We told her you wouldn’t forget your anniversary and you probably were just planning a surprise for her” she said.

“Did she say anything about today to you? Where she might go or something? I know she doesn’t have many places to go but… we thought she would be here” he tried.

“Sorry, Steve. She didn’t mention any of that. We just thought she’d stay home and maybe talk to you guys about it” Nancy told him.

“Okay” he said, sadly. “Please if you hear from her or if she comes here-”

“We’ll let you know, promise” Nancy assured him.

“Thanks” he said. “We have the walkie-talkie Henderson gave us so just use the channel okay?”

“Okay” Robin nodded. “Hey, Steve, she’s gonna be fine. Maybe she just needed some time to herself” she suggested.

“Yeah, maybe” Steve smiled sadly before walking over to Eddie who was now hitting and kicking his car. “Eddie, love stop!”

“No! We fucked up, Steve! We let her down! We did the one thing we promised her we’d never do!”

“Eddie, we’re gonna fix this!”

“How? We don’t even know where she is!” he said, with tears streaming down his face.

“Hold on” Steve sighed, going over to the front and grabbing the walkie-talkie. “Henderson!”

“Steve?”

“Yes, Henderson, we need a favor! We need you, Wheeler, Sinclair, Byers, El, Max, anyone to tell us if you have seen (Y/N)!”

“What? What do you mean? Is she missing?”

“Look, I don’t have time to explain, we just need to find her! Please just help me!”

“Alright, hold on, let me ask if someone’s seen her” he responded.

“Thanks, man” he replied, going back to Eddie.

“It’s getting darker, Steve-!”

“We’re going to find her. And then we’re going to apologize and we’ll make this up to her and fix this. And, Buster is with her, and we know he takes care of her. It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise! Let’s just… go to some of her favorite places okay?”

“Okay” Eddie nodded and Steve took the keys out of his hand.

“I’ll drive, love” he smiled, kissing his forehead. “Let’s go!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The two of them had been driving around for a while to all of the places they knew you loved, but no such luck. Until Eddie heard Dustin’s voice again.

“Hey, Steve!”

“Dustin! What do you have, man?”

“Eddie! So, none of the guys have seen her, but Max mentioned something about seeing Steve’s car in the trailer park” he said, as the two of them looked at each other confused.

“Are you sure? Is Red there with you?”

The two of them heard a ruckus on the other side and then Max’s voice came up.

“Hey! Yes, I thought it was weird, but it was parked right outside your old trailer” she explained. “I didn’t see if she was in there, but you guys can try- shut up, Dustin! I’m busy here!”

“Okay, that’s great! Thanks, so much, Max! If you see her or if she gets in touch with you, please let us know!” Steve said, grabbing the radio from Eddie.

“You guys fucked up, huh?”

“We don’t have time for this, Red! Bye!” Eddie said, turning the radio off as Steve turned around and drove as fast as he could to the trailer park. “Okay, there it is! That’s your car!” Eddie pointed at the old trailer where the three of you lived and they noticed the lights were on.

Eddie didn’t even wait for Steve to stop the car to jump out and started running towards the trailer, Steve close behind him, pulling him back.

“Eddie, slow down, love” he said as they stopped in front of a window.

They looked inside and saw you asleep on your old couch. It had been a few months since the three of you moved into your new apartment but everything still looked the same, only emptier. You were wearing one of Steve’s old basketball t-shirts and one of Eddie’s sweaters on top and your favorite movie was playing on the TV. They slowly walked over to the door and walked inside. As soon as they did, Buster launched at them barking furiously and making them jump back a little, Eddie stepping in front of Steve.

“Hey! Dude, what the hell? It’s us! Your fathers!” he complained as Buster calmed down but kept growling at them, standing in front of you, not letting them walk through.

“Buster” Steve said, kneeling down, only managing to make him bark again, louder this time and waking you up.

“Buster, what’s going on?” you asked, still asleep and opening your eyes and then you noticed your two boyfriends standing there. “Oh” you said, sitting up. “Hi” you smiled weakly at them. “Buster, c’mere boy!” you said, patting the spot next to you since he kept growling at Steve and Eddie. He instantly turned around and ran towards you, resting his head on your lap.

“Princess!” Eddie said, walking closer to you and sitting on the ground in front of you and Buster, Steve, following him. The two of them wanted to cry when they saw your red eyes and puffy cheeks. They could tell you had been crying, which is probably why Buster didn’t want them anywhere near you. “Love, we have been looking everywhere for you!”

“We are so sorry, sunshine!” Steve said, trying to hold your hand but Buster barked at him.

“Busty, that’s enough” you scowled at him in a soft tone and scratched his ear. “What are you guys doing here?” you asked, quietly, looking down at your lap.

“What are we-? Love, we have been looking everywhere for you! I got home and you and Buster weren’t there!” Eddie started.

“I’m sorry” you murmured. “I fell asleep. I was going to be back by dinner-”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not the point” Steve said, scootching a little closer and trying to grab your hand again but looking at Buster. When he didn’t do anything, he grabbed your hand and Eddie grabbed the other one. “We are so sorry!”

“We are the worst boyfriends in the world!”

“That’s not true” you said, looking up at them.

“Yes, it is!” Eddie argued. “We both forgot our anniversary!”

“And also… we went to look for you at Nancy’s and she and Robin told us that you talked with them last night” he said, making you pull away from them. You put your legs up on the couch and placed your hands on top of them. “Why didn’t you talk to us?”

“I’m sorry” you said, feeling your throat tightening a little.

“Princess, we’re not mad at you” Eddie said, sitting closer to you and placing his hand on your knee. “We just want to know how you’re feeling and what to do to make it better” he said.

“It’s just stupid. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything” you insisted.

“It’s not stupid” Steve said, placing his hand on your other knee. “It made you run away from us-”

“No, I didn’t run away, I would never do that!” you said with a couple of tears falling down your cheeks. “I just… I don’t know” you admitted.

“Talk to us, love” Eddie said, trying to contain his own tears. “Please” he said, squeezing his grip on your knee.

“It’s just…” you sighed. “Things have been changing a lot” you started. “And I know it’s good things because you’re moving up in your job” you said, looking at Steve. “And you got a new job and your band is getting more gigs and your D&D campaign and all” you told Eddie. “But I just… I missed you. I missed how things were when we wre still living here, which is why… I came here” you told them. “Ever since we moved into our new apartment, I feel like I barely see you. You’re always gone when I wake up and I fall asleep before you come home” you told them. “And this past week I couldn’t have lunch with either of you and you got to spend last night together and…” you said, crying a little more. “Y-you forgot about our weekend-”

“We know, and we are so sorry, love” Eddie said, holding your hand again and Steve did the same.

“We feel horrible about that, we didn’t mean to, sweetheart-”

“I know” you nodded. “I know you didn’t mean to, it’s just…” you sighed, looking at Buster and scratching his ear. “You didn’t seem to miss me as much as I missed you and I just thought… I don’t know” you said, with a few tears falling down your cheeks again.

“Princess, of course, we miss you” Eddie said, getting up and sitting down next to you, Buster, growling a little when he was moved away from you.

“Tell us what else is going through your pretty mind, sweetheart” Steve said, sitting on your other side and kissing your forehead.

“It’s nothing” you said, resting your head on his shoulder and holding Eddie’s hand.

“Love” Eddie said, bringing your hand to his lips.

“It was just a lot this week, I guess” you said, quietly. “Look, I love you guys, so much and I know you love me too, I do, but… it’s just… sometimes it’s hard” you admitted.

“What is?” Steve asked.

“Well, it’s just…” you sighed again and got up. “You have to promise me you won’t freak out and let me talk” you told them. “Okay?”

“Okay” Steve nodded.

“Promise” Eddie agreed.

“Sometimes it’s just hard because you two are just… like… so perfect it’s infuriating, okay? And I just don’t get why you would want to be with me-”

“What-?”

“How can-?”

“You promised” you said, throwing them a look and they closed their mouths. “I know that you two love me, okay, I do! I just… sometimes I don’t get why, okay? I mean, my own family didn’t want me! Every person I dated before you just… left me for someone better and sometimes I’m just scared that you two are going to realize that and… do the same thing” you said, sadly. “Like… this week, on my day off when I went to give you two your lunch I…” you sighed and looked at Eddie. “You were talking with Chrissy and she was laughing a lot and I know you were just being nice to her but… she’s so pretty and nice and I just… I don’t know!” you said, turning to Steve. “And then I went over to Family Video and this group of girls came out talking about how handsome you were and that you were probably into one of them and I know that’s not true but sometimes it bothers me that girls practically throw themselves at you. Even in front of me! Pretty girls, who are also taller than me! Why is everyone taller than me?” you complained. “I know I’m overthinking and that’s why I didn’t want to say anything! Because I trust you two, I just sometimes feel like it’s only a matter of time before you-”

“Okay, no” Steve said, getting up as well. “That’s enough, don’t even finish that sentence” he said, grabbing your hands and pulling you to him. “Come here, sunshine” he said, sitting back down and pulling you between him and Eddie. “Listen to me” he said softly as Eddie wrapped his arms around you. “First of all, this is our fault, okay? We forgot our anniversary and we didn’t notice that you were feeling left out and we are so sorry” he started. “We know what you have gone through in your life and when we started dating, we promised you that we would always make you feel loved, because we love you and we miss you and we need you so much” he said, with his voice breaking a little. “We failed you, and I am so sorry that you have been feeling this way. You have no idea how scared we were today when we couldn't find you. I was trying my best to not freak out but I have never been more scared in my life. And I know that we have been saying this all week and we fucked up but we will make it up to you. There is nobody in this world that we love more than you, and there is absolutely no one that we would rather be with” he said, grabbing your hands in his. Tears kept falling down your cheeks and Eddie kept placing soft kisses on your head.

“R-really?” you smiled a little.

“Yes, princess” Eddie said, turning you a little so you can look at him now. “Everything Steve said is true. You are our favorite person in the world. If anything, we’re the ones who don’t deserve you” he told you.

“That’s not true-”

“Yes, it is. Look at everything you do for us, you always bring us our lunch in our cool lunchboxes” he continued. “You read Lord of the Rings to me every time I’m sick. You help me with my campaigns sometimes. You always listen to the music I want to listen to. And you help me when I get knots in my hair-”

“That goes for both of us” Steve added, making you smile a little.

“You plan movie nights with the kids. You come to all of my shows” Eddie kept on listing.

“You do everything for us, sweetheart” Steve told you.

“You have the most amazing heart of anybody I know” Eddie added. “Buster if proof of that” he said, making Buster bark at the sound of his name and you chuckled a little. “Which is probably why he loves you the most” he said.

“You had a whole weekend planned for us and we were just stupid enough to forget it” Steve said, apologetically.

“We love you so much” Eddie said, pulling you closer. “There is nobody in this world better for us than you” he insisted. “We are so sorry-”

“It’s okay” you told them. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner” you said. “I just… didn’t really know how and I didn’t want you to think that it was your fault or that I didn’t trust you because I do” you told them.

“We know, love” Steve said, kissing your cheek. “We still can be a little more cautious about that” he assured you.

“Yes, because we also hate it when a guy flirts with you so we know how it feels” Eddie added.

“That doesn’t happen” you laughed.

“Yes, it does” Eddie argued. “The fact that you don’t even notice just makes you more adorable, but it does, love” he said, kissing your other cheek.

“We are so sorry, sweetheart” Steve repeated. “And we promise to make more time with you, okay?”

“Really?”

“Yeah” Eddie said. “We can have a night a week that it’s just reserved for the three of us” he suggested before Buster barked loudly. “Four of us” he corrected, making you laugh.

“I’d like that” you smiled.

“We have like a board with a calendar at the shop with all the schedules, maybe we can have one in the kitchen to plan around it, and that way none of us will forget important dates” he proposed.

“Yes! I like that idea!” Eddie said, excitedly. “I’m canceling band practice tomorrow” he said.

“Yes, and I’m telling Keith I can’t make it to work-”

“No, guys, you don’t have to do that-”

“Yes, we do” Steve assured you. “We’re going to have the whole weekend just for the three of us. And we’re gonna do anything you want, okay?” he said, hugging you tighter and giving you a peck on the lips.

“We can start by getting your favorite take-out and watching your favorite movies tonight” Eddie said, giving you another kiss.

“That sounds wonderful” you smiled shyly at them.

“Let’s go home then” Steve said, kissing your forehead and then Eddie’s when he got up. “Come on, buddy” he said, snapping his fingers at Buster.

A few hours later, after a lovely dinner and a very heated session of make-up sex where the two of them kept proving to you how sorry they were, you were in your absolute favorite place in the world. Steve’s head was lying on your legs, almost asleep as you ran your fingers through his hair and you rested against Eddie’s chest while he ran his fingers through your hair. You were watching one of your favorite movies with Buster asleep on the floor after Steve basically fed him whatever he asked for. You turned to look at Eddie to see if he had fallen asleep and he smiled down at you.

“What?” he asked, kissing your forehead.

“Nothing” you smiled. “I’m sorry I scared you today” you told him and he lowered your hand to grab your free one.

“It’s okay, princess. At least Buster was taking care of you” he said, making you smile.

“I love you” you said, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Me too” he smiled back at you.

“Me three” Steve said, opening his eyes and looking up at you so you leaned down to kiss him as well.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N hope you liked it :D let me know what you think! :)

951 notes · View notes

stargirlfics · 4 years ago

Note

How would daddy Chris fix a meltdown from his little? I’m just thinking about like you didn’t get up early enough to watch cartoons with him before he had to go to work so you throw like a huge fit and you can’t calm down because it’s a routine and I’m 🥺

Daddy, Please

Daddy!Chris Evans x Black Little!Reader

Warnings: little bit of angst with a happy ending! use of “daddy”, light ddlg themes! 💞

Answering this months late but I lub this so much! Ty anon! 🥺

It’s the weekend which also lined up with one of your days off so Chris let you sleep in

He knows you loveeee your usual routine of watching cartoons with him in the early mornings in your jammies while he sips his coffee and gets ready to leave for work

But he woke this morning to find you sleeping like the sweet little baby angel you are and couldn’t bare to wake you up, thinking it wouldn’t be too much of an issue

You wake up to find his side of the bed empty save for a sweet note in his handwriting explaining everything and that he’d be home before you knew it

To say you were dismayed was an understatement

Routines provided structure and structure provided you an ability to balance all the things you had to juggle in your life and Chris was an expert at giving you that guidance in his dynamic with you

So this minor excursion from the normal routine of things had you rather upset

Deep down you really just wanted your daddy

It was one of those domestic things you did with him that made you feel close to him

Watching cartoons and giggling while he handed you some juice and made you breakfast with a sweet kiss to your syrup lips after

And nowww you were gonna have to be a big girl earlier than you wanted :(

No time with daddy before he had to be gone for hours, no cute heart shaped waffles or pancakes he’d make for you, no kisses, no snuggles, no nothing

You were headed straight for a meltdown that was for sure

There were efforts to fend it off most of the day, reasoning with your little side that you could do it, but you wanted to cry and throw yourself on the floor and be babied and taken care of

So when Chris arrived to a very quiet home minus your soft sniffles and whimpers, he knew something was wrong and it didn’t take very long for him to find you or figure out why

You had successfully done your chores for the day and the last thing you needed to do was refill Dodger’s food container but the stupid bag was too heavy and though all your efforts it ended up tearing and spilling dog food on the floor

And that’s when your meltdown landed

You started to cry, even more so when you heard the front door opening and Chris announcing that he was home and then Dodger excitedly running over to eat at the food on the floor

“D-dada...I-” you tried to explain but could only cry out of frustration

Everything was just all wrong!

Nothing had gone right today and you were feeling too small to handle any of it like a big girl

Chris could see it too, the frantic and sad look in your eyes explained it all and he suspected the unusual start to the day had a lot more to do with it than he had anticipated

“Oh, little one, I’m so sorry. C’mere, I got you now.”

Despite how much you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and forget about it all, all your brain could focus on was trying to clean up the mess so you were fussy and whining as you cried when Chris tried to pick you up off the floor

“Sweetheart, come on, it’s ok I promise. Let Daddy take care of it.”

“N-no! I wanted to watch cartoons wif you daddy and I had to make breakfast all by myself, a-and we didn’t get to snuggle and everything is ruined!”

You were trying to calm down you really were but you just couldn’t

You missed your daddy all day and didn’t want him to come home and see all this mess but he did and you felt embarrassed and sad and your little self wasn’t having any of it

Chris gently whispered his apologies to you, softly coaxing you to let him wrap his arms around you while you sobbed and kicked your feet until eventually he could pick you up and bring you to the couch

He set you up with your favorite blankie and your stuffie, hating to part from you even for just a moment to shoo Dodger away and clean up the dog food spill

Your wails hurt his heart, he hated knowing you’d been feeling this way all day by yourself but he was home now and he wanted to focus on calming you down and making it up to you

So when everything was back in order, Chris let you settle into his lap where he rocked you back and forth gently, hushing your cries little by little

As your breathing slowly evened and your tears didn’t flow as much, he caught your attention with a quick kiss to the cheek

“Look what’s on the tv, baby. Who’s that?”

“My cartoons! Daddy!”

“Mhm, I’ve decided we’re gonna watch cartoons till bath time tonight and even during dinner. How’s that sound?”

You responded with a delighted squeal, throwing your arms round his neck and hugging him tightly

Chris laughed and gave you another kiss, thinking on how alike you and him were when it came to your routines

Even he had to admit, his day was not the same with the morning starting out how it did and he’d vow to never miss watching cartoons with his little girl again!

Hope you enjoyed!! Feedback is appreciated as are reblogs!!! 💕

#clearing out my inbox!#daddy!chris evans x little!reader #daddy!chris evans x reader #chris evans x little!reader #chris evans headcanons

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levis-tealeef · 3 years ago

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“4am,,

levi x sleepy!reader | fluff

��ᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ - another sleepless night, you want the comfort of your boyfriend. he gratefully grants your wish :>

A/N: this is just a small fluffy sleepy fic that i wrote at 4am- hence the reasoning for this entire one shot lmAO i wanted soft levi so boOm here :D it's kind of ooc so i apologise for that ;-; my tired brain is to blame djdn

warnings: mild swearing because of grumpy levi

700+ words

the soft sound of shuffling is what woke levi up. well, he wasn't really sleeping... only spaced out. he couldn't get himself to sleep easily and it was only on the rare occasion that he could with no hassle. unfortunately tonight wasn't too kind to him, leading to him only being able to lay still and silent in his bed as he stared up at the ceiling.

with curiosity and some annoyance, he looked to peek out from the covers to see what was making the noise. low and behold stood none other than you, his love, standing in your nightwear with a blanket wrapped around you.

"y/n- what the hell are you doing?" he sighed. he sat up slightly. "it's four in the morning."

you had stopped in place when he looked at you. "couldn't sleep..." you mumbled. truth be told you were absolutely exhausted but no matter how hard you tried, tonight you could not go to sleep. seems this was something you had in common with your love, though this usually wasn't an issue for you.

levi hummed at that. "and you came in here why? i thought you were having a 'sleepover' with the girls."

you huffed. "i changed my mind and i want to sleep with you now." you pouted at him a little. "... can i join you...?" there was some hints of hesitance in your voice.

he stared at you for a few moments, the silence dragging. "you didn't need to sneak in here to ask me that, you know?"

you blinked. ah, yes. you somehow tend to forget that he is your boyfriend and that the two of you were actually close. even after months, you still asked if it was okay to sleep beside him.

"oh- okay..." a soft blush of embarrassment dusted across your cheeks, but it soon went.

you carefully clambered onto the bed and under the covers with levi's help. he had lifted the covers for you, laying on his side. once you were laying down comfortably he brought you to his chest, holding you securely. immediately you felt much more relaxed than when you were without him.

a possibility arose from that thought. maybe you couldn't sleep because levi wasn't there. surely not... right? you honestly couldn't tell if that was weird and needy or not, but it made sense.

for the past few months you had been sleeping in levi's bedroom. granted when you went to bed he would much later, but the fact you knew he would eventually be beside you calmed your thoughts. maybe it was because you weren't sleeping next to him tonight that you couldn't sleep.whatever the case, you were happy now.

a gentle run of fingers through your hair shook you from your thoughts. you blinked a few times, looking up at levi with tired eyes. with your already sleepy mush state, you completely melted into his touch.

"quit procrastinating and get sleeping." he scolded lightly, though kept playing with your hair soothingly. "it isn't good to stay up this late, my darling..." he whispered.

oh how you loved that nickname. 'my darling'. whatever the situation you always got butterflies from it. as you did just then.

you nodded. "i know... i'll try to sleep now." you smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw.

he hummed. "you won't try, you will." he squeezed you gently as he hugged you to his chest, resting his chin on top of your head. "... please?" his ask was only a soft whisper.

closing your eyes you let out a soft hum of approval. "mhm... though... will you sleep too...?" you whispered, your relaxation slowly sinking in to the land of dreams.

he too closed his eyes, giving you another soft squeeze. "we'll see what the night brings." he answered quietly. "insomnia is a bitch sometimes." he mumbled.

you couldn't help but giggle at that. "i agree~ but it can be overcome." you replied; another whisper. "try your best..." your voice was starting to slur a little, your sleepyness starting to overcome you.

he hummed. "i will..." he kissed the top of your head. "now go to sleep."

a soft smile grazed your lips. "i will." you gently nestled into his embrace. "i love you, levi..."

"i love you too..."

and for the first time in a while, levi had a lie in.

#levi #levi ackerman #levi fluff #levi x reader #x reader #fluff #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #oneshot #levi oneshot #levi ackerman oneshot

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cdroloisms · 3 years ago

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take a shot - dsmp!mcc fic

MCC FIC! MCC FIC! MCC FIC! To be clear, I outlined this weeks back, when teams were first announced, and I took very very little from the actual MCC itself when it came to actually writing this - all I have are the same teams, but it really exists in its own continuity outside of Real Life MCC (obviously, as it’s using the dsmp characters) and everything like that as a whole! Just to be clear :D)

The worldbuilding is also Absolutely Bullshitted start to finish, as well as any and all medical information. Rip. We’re here for a good time, not for a long or particularly accurate one - hope you guys enjoy regardless!! I had a LOT of fun writing this fic, dsmp!mcc aus my BELOVED

title obviously from win it all by derivakat

---

Michael loves MCC.

But it’s one thing to love the normal Championships and quite another when his team looks like it’s falling apart from the inside out - and as the games progress, it becomes more and more obvious that losing, this time, might not be an option.

tws: C!QUACKITY CRITICAL (sorry i promise i love him but he is NOT portrayed very nicely here, very dark portrayal of him), implied trauma, abuse, torture, panic attacks, manipulation, gaslighting, needles, hospitals, MCC-typical violence, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault themes

(16k words !! :D long boi)

Michael loves MCC.

Of course he does! It’s fucking MCC - like, who wouldn’t love it? MCC is how he met so many people, how he met Dream, that one time, the two of them teamed with Techno and Burren and winning it all - MCC is a goddamn blast and he’s thankful every time he gets the invite that he’s able to compete.

Still- it’s hard not to be a little more nervous, now.

Dream gave him an invite to his SMP right after they teamed, but it wasn’t until months later that Michael actually cashed it in. Entering the server, it became very obvious very quickly that the DreamSMP, as it’s known, isn’t quite the same as its shiny media appearance. The spawn was covered in blocks, creeper holes littering the ground. The people he passed were grey-faced, too stoic to be the same, smiling faces he remembers from only less than a year ago. The air stings of gunpowder and iron. Worst of all are The Crater, shoddily covered in glass that does nothing to hide the damage done, rending the server in two straight down to bedrock, and the Prison, looming on the horizon. Absent-mindedly, Michael rubs at his left shoulder, remembering the Warden setting the prongs of his trident against the skin in warning, just hard enough to barely draw blood. Yeah, that place is bad news.

The fact of the matter is the server is a mess. And like, okay, whatever, Michael gets it. Everyone has their issues - it’s just the DreamSMP seems to have more than most. Despite his original worries, it’s honestly not been as bad as he originally feared upon logging in; yeah, Bad and Puffy and Foolish and the rest of them are a little more trigger-happy than he might’ve expected (and he’s not going to say that Bad crying over turtles wasn’t a little startling when he first joined, but honestly he thinks Bad is just Like That.) There’s way more death than he’s really comfortable with, and Puffy keeps mentioning Bad murdering her son (Foolish? He thinks? The guy is also a literal God but like, families are weird, who’s he to judge) in a way that’s way too casual to come from anyone entirely well-adjusted, but overall his experience has been alright.

Still, he gets the feeling that nobody exactly wants the outside world to know about the issues with the place. It’s not an issue for him usually, not when his sleeping schedule is the exact opposite of most of the people he knows and he spends most of his time screwing around on the server, anyway (usually harassing the Warden until the asscrack of dawn if he’s being honest) but with MCC, with everyone watching - he’s starting to get why everyone from the SMP was so damn tense all the time, now.

Anyway- he loves MCC, he really does. But even that doesn’t stop him from wincing when he sees his team card, the names Dream and Quackity and Sapnap written in Scott’s looping handwriting. He’s not seen Sapnap at all since joining the server, has only heard a little about his place (something Kingdom, not that he was paying attention) from Foolish, and has no idea what the man has been up to. Quackity is his own unique can of worms; Michael doesn’t know exactly what’s up with him and his country, but everything he’s heard so far has sounded like nothing but bad news, casinos and schemes and a trail of wreckage following wherever he goes. And Dream-

Michael looks out his window, chewing on his lip, looking directly in the direction where he knows the prison stands, impenetrable, intimidating. Where Dream’s cell is, in line with his house, where he’s been hidden for months without a trace. Where the Warden had confronted him that one night, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, blood splattered on his boots.

There’s no real ignoring an MCC invite - not without good reason, not without the admins picking up on something being up. There’s not really a choice, here, but for Michael to duck his head down and pretend everything’s fine just like everyone else from the SMP. He directs one last glance at the prison before walking away, setting the invite on his counter. If he’s lucky, everything will turn out fine.

(He ignores the part of him that asks what’s going to happen if they’re not. No point in worrying about what hasn’t happened yet - right?)

---

Weeks pass, the tournament creeping closer, and Michael gets no alerts from his teammates on his comm. No one comes to his house to check in, say hi, not even a ‘hey, we’re kinda competing in a massive tournament in like, seven days, you ready?’ Hell, he even starts checking his goddamn mailbox for a letter or something only to come up empty-handed every time. Never mind performing well - it’ll be a miracle if their team manages to arrive at the tournament at all.

It isn’t until the day before MCC, the sun high in the sky at what must be near noon, when he finally gets a message on his comm. Michael fishes it out with a frustrated huff, seeing Quackity’s name pop up first when he manages to turn on the screen.

Quackity whispers to you: you down for some practice?

It takes a couple seconds for him to blink away his shock - out of everyone he expected to arrange practice for their team, Quackity was definitely not at the top of the list. He half-thought they would have to drag him to the tournament kicking and screaming; from what he’s heard, he’s been nothing if not devoted to his country. Shaking his head, he goes to reply; practice is practice, and their team really needs it.

You whisper to Quackity: sure. practice server?

Quackity whispers to you: yes

Pulling up his server list, Michael scrolls for the practice server, finding it and then letting the server transfer do the rest. A few nausea-inducing seconds later, he’s at the practice server spawn, standing in the middle of a neatly paved road surrounded by colorful arenas and signs.

“Michael!”

He turns; there, by the Battle Box arenas, Quackity is waving at him, already dressed in a red varsity jacket and a pair of shorts, the jacket bearing a front pocket embroidered with a rabbit and a large R stitched onto the back. He reaches behind him for a red bag, throws it his way for Michael to catch mid-air.

“Got these outfits for us last minute - hope it’s alright with you,” Quackity smiles, and Michael tries to prevent his eyes from clinging to the scar spanning the entire left side of his face. “Anyway- how are you, man? I feel like we haven’t seen each other at all on the server. How’s it been?”

“I’m good- it’s been good.” Michael opens the drawstring bag, cataloguing the contents - there’s a jacket, just like Quackity’s, a pair of shorts and sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a headband, all in varying shades of red and white. “Nice outfit- thank you. Is anyone else around?”

Quackity waves a hand behind him. “Yeah- Dream’s here. Should be coming out of the arena soon, actually.” Michael looks over behind his shoulder to where he’s pointing - there, walking down the stairs, is another figure wearing all red that must be Dream. “There he is- hey Dream! Michael’s here!”

Dream hurries down the stairs; unlike Quackity, he is wearing the sweatpants along with the same jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets. His hair is a lot longer than Michael remembers, pulled back behind his head in a ponytail, mask, as usual, fastened over his face. He settles behind Quackity, giving Michael a small wave; his hands are covered by a pair of fingerless gloves.

“Hey, Dream!” Michael grins; it’s been such a long time since he’s seen his old teammate, and despite the circumstances and everything that’s apparently happened since then, it’s still pretty damn nice to see him. “How’ve you been?”

Dream seems to freeze for a moment, before shaking his head. “Good,” he says, quiet, sounding almost breathless. Michael’s eyes go to the slivers of skin that show on either side of his face, to the slight shake to his hands.

“You alright? You look a little pale,” Michael asks, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way Dream stills at the words, muscles tensing, gaze averting to the side even with the mask - doesn’t miss how Quackity steps forward, looking Michael in the eye as he tosses a casual arm around Dream’s shoulder, smiling brightly.

“Don’t worry. This idiot has just been practicing a bit too much before you got here,” Quackity gestures with a flippant twist of his wrist, “You know how he gets. Right, Dream?”

“Um- yeah. Ha,” Dream responds just a little too late to be strictly normal, shoulders tight and nearly pulled to his ears under Quackity’s arm. “Practice- I’m a little out of shape.”

“You sure?” Dream’s breathing hitches and Quackity steps forward, just a little bit, eyes still fixed firmly on Michael’s own even as he shifts his gaze to try and look at Dream. “We can take a break if you need, Dream-”

“I’m fine!” Dream smiles with a little stuttered breath that turns into a small laugh, “It’s- uh. It’s fine. Thanks Michael, but we can practice. Not much time left to waste, you know?”

“You sure, Dream?” Quackity says, suddenly, voice soft and sincere. “I guess it has been a while since you’ve been able to practice- you sure you don’t need a break?”

Dream shakes his head firmly. “No- it’s fine. Really- where’s Sapnap? He should be coming soon, right?”

“If you say so, pal,” Quackity replies, doubt coloring his tone as he pulls out his communicator. “I told Sapnap to come, he replied a couple minutes back; he should be here soon, I think. You want to go meet him at spawn?”

Dream nods, and they begin to set out towards the center of the server, Quackity and Dream quickly taking the lead as Michael falls back. After a minute, Quackity falls into casual conversation, rambling about something as Dream nods, Michael trailing behind the two of them and adding his own input as he sees fit. Sapnap arrives soon after, and the noise level picks up even more after that, Sapnap and Quackity falling into an easy rhythm of banter and quips as they set out to practice Battle Box and Parkour Tag, carefully working their way through the different games under Dream’s tutelage and advice.

And here’s the thing- Michael isn’t stupid. Yeah, he’d hardly consider himself a top tier MCC player, and he’ll be the first to say that he’s nowhere near qualified to deal with the literal laundry list of issues that affect every member of the SMP, but even so, he’s not clueless. He’s good at looking at multiple sides of a situation, doesn’t easily give into intimidation or manipulation, and he’s observant as all hell. So when Quackity wraps his hand around Dream’s wrist, fingers wrapping all the way around until his knuckles pale, when Dream winces, muscles in his arm locking before letting it go limp, not protesting when Quackity drags him forward except in the tiny, tight expressions that flit across his face every few moments, tight and gasping and shaky at the corners - Michael notices.

“See you at the tourney, yeah?” Quackity calls to him after practice with a wink before clapping Dream on the back, Michael watching silently as the muscles of Dream’s neck pull tight, head ducking to his chest. “Good job, big guy,” he says, laughing. “Keep this up for tomorrow and we’ll be good.”

“Mmhm,” Dream mutters after a brief second, “We’re- we’re gonna win.”

“Betting on it, pal,” Quackity replies, voice light in a way that completely fails to explain Dream’s full-body flinch. “MCC, huh? Can’t fucking wait.”

“See you tomorrow, Quackity,” Michael says as he presses DreamSMP on his server list, pretending that a chill doesn’t crawl down his spine at the smile that the other man throws his way in return.

---

There’s no real easy answer.

Michael comes to that conclusion at some point in the middle of the night, restless and pumped on way too much adrenaline to go to sleep. He can’t outright antagonize Quackity, can’t let him know he knows something’s up - not when Quackity had already spent the majority of practice keeping one dark, narrowed eye on him at all times, lips pursed in a slight frown whenever he thought Michael wasn’t looking. He’s not stupid; whatever’s happening between Dream and Quackity is secret, and kept that way for a reason. His mind goes back to the brief flashes of anxiety that had moved over Dream’s face before he could react fast enough to school them back into a carefully neutral position; whatever it is, he doubts it bodes well for Dream in the slightest.

Unfortunately, his hands are pretty damn tied. He knows public opinion on the masked man in the server is overwhelmingly negative, but has no damn idea how far it extends. How many people are in on whatever’s happening in that damn prison? How many people know what would make Dream, bold and bright and recklessly confident in all of Michael’s (rather limited) memories, into someone so quiet, unimposing, nervous? His head spins with the possibilities, with the ever-present reminder to not make a fuss, let the tournament pass on, to never, ever let anyone find out what’s going on within the SMP. Should he do anything at all?

Too soon, it’s morning, and he drags himself out of bed with a groan to glare at the sun streaming through his window. Somewhere, Quackity and Dream and Sapnap are also waking up, are preparing to compete in one of the biggest damn tournaments to exist. Michael sighs, glancing over to where he’s set out his outfit, freshly pressed and waiting. Any other day, and he’d probably be fucking ecstatic. Here, he buries his head in his hands, muffling a frustrated groan against the palm of his hands.

He loves MCC, but he sure as hell doesn’t like whatever the hell is going on with the rest of his team.

Getting into the server goes smoothly enough. The outfit is comfortable and looks damn good, props to whoever made the thing, and the sight of the multicolored crowd successfully manages to tamp down some of his nerves. He busies himself with saying hi to all of the members waiting in the lobby, happy for the chance to talk to some people he hasn’t seen in ages, feels the night of anxieties wash away with every stupid joke told and burst of laughter drawn from his lungs.

They come back the moment Scott steps up in front of the lobby. “Teams, it’s time to head to your team rooms! The tournament will begin in fifteen minutes,” Scott says, expression sunny and bright, “we’re wishing you all luck for a great performance today! May the best team win!”

In a flurry of movement, they’re all whisked to their rooms for a final few minutes of preparation and morale-boosting, and Michael enters the glorified dressing room to Quackity, Dream, and Sapnap already standing there, seemingly in the middle of conversation.

“You ready to win?” Sapnap yells, and Quackity whoops, and Michael manages a small cheer of his own. They’re all visibly nervous; Quackity has scarcely stopped moving, pacing from one side of the room to the next; Sapnap is basically jumping in place where he stands. Dream stands at the very back of the room, looking tense; Michael directs a wave his way and gets a small one in return.

“Game plan, game plan,” Quackity mutters, “do we know what games we’re playing first? Dream?”

He nods at Dream, and Dream stands up straighter, mouth falling open.

“Oh- um,” he hesitates, a strand of hair flopping forwards as he tilts his head in thought. “We’ll want to save Parkour Tag and Battle Box towards the end- maybe something more high-risk at the beginning, but not first, just to boost morale,” his teeth catch on his bottom lip, “Maybe something like To Get To The Other Side? If they have that- or Build Mart, if we can get it out of the way.” He shakes his head. “If that’s alright- I mean-”

“Great,” Quackity cuts in smoothly. “Sapnap? Michael? Does that sound good to you?”

Sapnap flashes a thumbs up, and Michael nods. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks, Dream.”

Dream’s head snaps towards him, mouth slightly open in shock. The sight of it makes Michael’s gut twist uncomfortably; there’s something about how surprised he is, at the nervous hesitancy with which he spoke that was nothing like what Michael remembers of his easy leadership in that MCC with Techno, that doesn’t sit right at all in his stomach. Even with his expression largely hidden, there’s no mistaking the clear, genuine surprise on his face at the idea of someone thanking him - Michael tries to tell himself that he’s reading too much into it as Quackity continues to speak.

“We’re going to win,” he grins, just a little too sharp at the edges, “so get out there and play like your lives depend on it, yeah?”

Sapnap cheers, and again, Michael and Dream follow. It’s not until he’s outside the door, within the clamor of screaming teams and people counting down with the timer that Michael realizes that Quackity was staring at Dream the entire time.

---

Michael curses, frustrated, when he’s knocked off a platform again, making sure to flip Krinios the bird before he falls into the Void entirely. When he makes it to the other side, Quackity and Dream are already deep in conversation - if you can call it that. Even from here, it looks worryingly one-sided.

“-were you thinking, falling off there-” Quackity’s hand is on Dream’s shoulder, Dream standing stock-still in front of him, “you better be taking this seriously, Dream.”

“Hey- sorry about that,” Michael calls with a wave, “I swear Krinios had it out for me. At least I made it across, right?”

Quackity turns, startled, and in the split-second that it takes for him to register Michael’s appearance, his expression smooths over into something friendlier, more inviting. “Michael!” He says, enthusiastic, and it’s like the anger that had filled his words just seconds before was never there at all. “Don’t- don’t worry about it, man. We all kinda dropped the ball on that one, right Dream?”

The words should be encouraging, just simple ribbing between teammates. Dream’s mask is still ducked down, facing the floor, shoulders slightly hunched in.

“Um- Sapnap did pretty good,” Dream says, quiet, “he got top ten, right?”

Michael looks over to where Sapnap is standing a little ways away, seemingly busy typing on his communicator. Quackity laughs, sharp and loud.

“True,” he punches Dream lightly on the upper arm, and Michael watches the way he freezes the second the fist makes contact with his jacket, “come on, man, you’re losing your touch. You really gonna let yourself get beat by Sapnap?” he shakes his head, still laughing as he pulls open his communicator. “Jesus- even I beat you in that last round. Watch your spot, Dream, I’m coming for you.”

“I mean,” Michael says when a second passes and it becomes clear Dream isn’t going to respond, “Dream was doing pretty well with the last two rounds, right? I thought I saw his name pretty far up there.”

Quackity takes a second before responding, again, staring at Michael oddly as he does. “That’s true,” he concedes, “hey- I was just making a joke, don’t worry. It’s all for fun, right Dream?”

His gaze goes to Dream, and automatically, Michael follows. Dream seems to startle under the attention, twitching Quackity’s direction in the awkward silence that results. Michael watches as the mask slants slightly to face Quackity, as Quackity looks back at him with an intense, unreadable expression, shoulders strangely tense. Whatever unsaid conversation that seems to pass between them is entirely lost on Michael as Dream finally responds with a sudden, almost strangled bark of laughter.

“Yeah- just jokes,” his fingers twist over one another, hands held close together in front of his body, “Though Qu- Q’s right, I- I should probably pick it up. We’re playing to win.”

A ding alerts them to the end of the round, and Michael steadies himself in preparation for the teleport to the next map. As he turns, he catches Quackity’s expression, once again, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he continues to look at Dream.

“Good luck,” he calls just before they enter the next round, and tries not to think too much about what he’s saying it for.

---

They manage pretty well for the rest of To Get To The Other Side, finishing with a second place overall that got cheers from Sapnap and even a slight smile from Dream. Hole in the Wall, on the other hand, has been a lot less successful - though Michael will be the first to say that it’s his fault. His practice in the last few months has been lackluster (at best) and it definitely showed in the arena.

He leans over the railing, watching Dream and Sapnap through the crowd of participants left that have yet to be knocked out by the giant walls of slime. Quackity’s standing next to him, having been similarly thrown off the platform early in the round, expression tight and lips set in a small frown, and looking at him for too long makes Michael uneasy so he looks down at the arena again. They’re in the last round, and they’re supposed to be making callouts anyway for their teammates still participating below.

Without thinking, once again, Michael looks over at Dream. Sue him, he knows the guy best and Dream has been acting odd all day, to put it lightly. Even ignoring the part of him that’s screaming that something’s wrong, that there’s something up that has everything to do with the beanie-wearing man standing besides him, it only takes a few minutes of observation to see that Dream is - for the lack of a better word - off. Michael watches as he vaults over another wall, only barely managing to bring himself to his feet in time on the other side. Dream’s movements - even to his untrained eye - have always been fluid, effortless. He jumped and vaulted and ran like gravity didn’t exist, like every physics-bending maneuver he made was as easy as breathing. Michael remembers watching him sprint over the parkour course before, time completely unmatched as he appraised each obstacle and basically flew his way through, sounding hardly even winded when he whooped loudly in victory from the top of the salmon ladder. In total contrast, Dream jerks away from the coming wall again, movements sloppy and harsh as he scrambles to the other side of the disc-shaped arena. He’s still fast, and still making jumps, but everything is strangely angled where it had once been fluid, stopping and starting suddenly, moving in bursts of speed and then skidding to sudden stops.

“WEST!” Quackity shouts, and Michael watches as Dream’s head turns jerkily at the noise before he dives out of the way of the incoming wall and manages, barely, to twist around the side. Michael winces at the tumble he takes on the opposite side, clutching his chest slightly as he stands back up again.

“North!” Michael calls, because he should probably actually help his teammates, huh, and Dream manages to move around this one better, jumping through a hole in the wall and tucking and rolling as he lands. “Nice jump- East!”

It’s an easy wall, thankfully, and both Sapnap and Dream visibly take a breath as they stand in place for the wall to pass over them. As it passes, a droning buzz comes from the speakers, and the walls below them speed up.

“South-to your right!” Michael shouts as they turn, eyes turning between all of the false walls before finally focusing on the right one, his shout echoed by a similar one from Quackity. At each one of the calls from the man besides him, Dream seems to tighten further, movements increasingly erratic as he dodges and weaves around the walls. There’s still a lot of people left - Michael follows Dream through the crowd with a frown, watching as he and Sapnap jump the next wall, Dream’s foot nearly catching on the top edge.

“West-” Dream flinches, jumping over the two-high wall at the last possible second, landing completely off-balance on the other side and falling to the ground. He scrambles to his feet, but there’s already a wall at the west edge of the platform - his head turns, still searching for the wall - Quackity yells.

“LEFT!”

Something in Dream’s movements seem to shift, even in the distance - Michael watches as he immediately, almost robotically, steps to the left at Quackity’s voice, not even jumping, not turning his head to take in his surroundings, just moving instinctually at the words, and slams into the coming wall hard enough to get flung into the middle hole in the platform. Quackity curses, fist crashing into the railing as Dream falls and the chat message shows on their communicators, and a second later he’s materialized beside them, face oddly slack and mask focused somewhere faraway.

“Shit,” Dream mutters when he seems to come back into himself, shaking his head and then turning to the two of them, still by the railing, “Dammit. Sorry, I-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael cuts in before Quackity can speak. “You did good.”

“I-” Dream catches Quackity’s gaze, then pushes his head away, mask facing the ground. Something about it and his raised shoulders and the dark, angry glare that Quackity directs over the railing when Michael looks back makes him shift in place, uneasy. “Could’ve done better, ha. Sorry.”

The three of them watch, silent, as Sapnap continues to compete. He manages to get pretty damn far, making it to the top three, but getting knocked off-balance by a wall and off the platform just before the timer sounds. Michael cringes back at the sound of it over the speakers, watches the other contestants settle into place, panting, in victory.

“Great job, Sapnap,” Michael shouts when he materializes in front of them, and the other two are quick to echo his sentiments. If they sound a little duller than they should be, if Quackity’s jaw seems clenched and Dream’s all coiled up like a spring, far too tense, it’s from placing lower than they wanted and slipping in the rankings, not anything else.

Keep your head down, Michael reminds himself, and everything’s gonna be fine. And if the words ring more and more hollow with every repetition, well, that’s for him to ignore and for everyone else to never, ever find out.

---

Buildmart is chosen next, which they all groan at, but at least it’s going to be out early and not left to ruin all of their scores later. Michael takes his place at his build, one third from the left side - it’s some abomination of colored glass and white concrete meant, if he is to guess, to emulate a stained glass window. He’s between Dream and Sapnap, the former positioned in front of a flower-dotted grass field with a picnic table, the latter staring down a miniature car with black concrete for tires and stone buttons for detailing. He breathes a steady breath as they await the countdown, already planning for his trip to the Colors section to grab materials for his build and the others’- Buildmart isn’t his strongest game, but it’s not his worst either, and he’s damn well going to try his best.

He skids into the portal with an armful of colored concrete and glass, spilling half of its contents inside a chest before running to his build. He pulls himself to the crafting bench to craft - he squints at his build - he needs four red glass panes and 3 yellow, right. As he brings the panes to his inventory and begins laying out the frame of the build in concrete, he looks over to Dream, who is noticeably struggling with placing the flowers in his build and getting the placements to match that of the original. He knocks away a white tulip with a muffled curse, sounding frantic as he looks back to the original, and places it again to no avail.

It seems that his struggle hasn’t only caught Michael’s attention, as the statue to the leftmost side of the room explodes in gold coins and confetti - Quackity has finished his build and is now looking at Dream with narrowed eyes. Dream places the flower again, and the build refuses to respond. Quackity’s gaze narrows further, and he opens his mouth-

“Hey Quackity!” Michael starts speaking before he’s even noticed that he’s opened his mouth, fumbling as he regains awareness of what he’s doing and tries to find a direction for his sentence to go, “do you have any concrete?”

Quackity looks at him like he’s grown a second head, which is fair, considering there’s a block of white concrete pretty obviously visible in his hand. “Um- no? Weren’t you supposed to go to Colors?”

Dream finally manages to place the tulip where it belongs, and the build between them disappears in another explosion of gold glitter. Michael laughs awkwardly.

“Sorry- haha. I got a little mixed up.” He places the last piece of white concrete, watching as his own build disappears. A little wooden cottage takes its place, made of what appears to be just oak wood and cobblestone. “Are you going to get wood? Or should I?”

“I- You get wood,” Quackity shakes his head, visibly frustrated, “And I’ll get stone. We have to hurry, we’re falling behind.”

After that, Michael finds it a little too easy - or maybe not easy, but at least tolerable, to interrupt when Quackity looks a little like he’s about to fall on the side of being angry versus just annoyed, stepping between his angry glares at Dream with a forced smile and an incessant string of annoying questions-

“Hey Quackity, do you have any spare iron?”

“Hey Quackity, I think you placed that a little too far back.”

“Hey Quackity, can you take a look to see what I placed wrong?”

It’s not perfect. It’s hardly even functional; Michael knows that Quackity has begun with the habit of directing death glares at his back whenever he thinks he’s not looking, his responses to Michael’s questions becoming more and more clipped, often paired with irritated grumbles and sighs. Sapnap, when Michael looks at him, seems largely engrossed with his own builds, but he’s also begun looking over at the two of them with a vaguely dissatisfied expression, and Dream only seems to be getting more jumpy with every frustrated growl out of Quackity’s mouth. Even Michael’s forced levity and falsely ignorant questions can’t do much against Quackity’s anger when they walk out of Buildmart dead last for the minigame, dropping their team all the way down to seventh in the overall rankings, and the tension within the team as they walk out - Quackity nearly stomping, Dream following with his hands wringing around each other and head ducked fearfully - is almost enough to make Michael scream. He looks at the scoreboard with a worried expression as he enters the Decision Dome, trying to quell the sinking feeling in his gut.

There’s still five more games to go, and he’s not sure how long they can last before something snaps.

---

Battle Box is chosen next, and they react to the game with quiet cheers and slightly grim faces. Michael’s been in enough MCCs to know that this game, of any, is crucial - after their lacking performances in the last two games, a good showing at Battle Box will be crucial to pull them back into the competition and raise morale. With Sapnap and Dream, if this were any normal game, they should be able to sweep through a good amount of the competition without much effort. As it is, though, Michael looks at the two more combat-oriented members of his team with a worried expression, the two barely even able to meet each other’s eyes. Their interactions so far have been less than promising- if they can’t hold it together for this round, well.

Michael shakes his head. They’ll do fine. They have to.

Even so, the first round only seems to confirm his concerns - they get woolrushed almost immediately, and in Dream and Sapnap’s stumbling to get to mid, nearly crashing into each other and focusing their efforts on the same player by accident, the other team manages to fill out the wool, sending them back to the spawn box even more frustrated than before.

“Amazing teamwork, guys,” Quackity snarks immediately, and Michael rolls his eyes.

“Like you did that much.”

Sapnap is still staring at Dream oddly, Dream turning his head to avoid his gaze. The two of them look largely oblivious to Quackity and his whole deal, even as Quackity whirls around to give him the stink eye.

“You didn’t do anything either, if I remember correctly,” Quackity mutters, and Michael shrugs.

“Fair.”

A ding alerts them to the round’s end, and they resign themselves to preparing for the next round. Michael picks the extra arrows from the wall, knowing that no one else will want the kit, and watches as Dream anxiously runs his hands over the crossbow.

The next round goes better, barely; Michael and Quackity end up knocked out pretty early, but Dream and Sapnap manage to kill the rest of the team soon after. He watches from the box as they fill in the wool, Dream looking awfully tense as he shears away the white wool for Sapnap to fill it with red. Quackity watches them both with a tight expression, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Michael turns away, ignoring him, going back to watching Dream and Sapnap still standing within the arena. Both of them look awkward, oddly out of step with each other - Michael’s not watched them fight much, but he knows that they have a reputation as a pair, was there for the Sky Battle round where they completely wiped through the competition. Even here, Sapnap moves forward and Dream flinches back - there’s something heavy and tense between them, lingering in the few words they’ve spoken to each other, if they’ve even spoken to each other at all, one always rushing forward too fast or following just a little too slow. They’re still brilliant fighters, almost unrivaled in hand-to-hand combat and with swords, but the faltering communication is sure to hurt them more in the future.

His worries come true just three rounds later, the two in between being narrow wins for their team, each a little more shaky than would be comfortable. Michael has found himself easing off the worst of his anxiety in verbally sparring with Quackity, jabbing at the other with offhand remarks and little needling jokes to keep his attention off the other two, especially as his glare has become more pronounced and his words more angry. Even so, nothing he does or can do will fix the odd tension between Dream and Sapnap, whose communication remains as stilted and awkward as ever.

They’re facing a stronger team, PVP wise, with Punz and Seapeekay, and Michael ends up falling in a bow duel against Jack. He watches as the Captain falls to a potion by Sapnap, then as Jack is taken out by a crossbow bolt courtesy of Dream, just before Quackity falls to a well-timed bow shot from the opposing team.

That leaves the strongest PVPers to battle it out, and Dream and Sapnap manage to team up and kill CPK - but not without taking a nasty damage potion to the face that must leave the two of them low. Michael watches Punz, booking it to mid with a crossbow, anxiously - both of them would be a oneshot with the thing, and on the condition that he takes no damage before fighting with either of them outright, he’s probably got enough health to hold out a few hits.

Sapnap pulls out a health potion, and Michael grins - that’ll be good for the two of them, and should secure them the win - only for him to gesture roughly with his sword and for Dream to stagger backwards, panic flashing over his face. He only seems to grow more fearful at the sound of glass shattering on the ground, falling backwards further - far enough to be largely out of range of health pot - and in their shock, Punz manages to catch both of them off guard and nail Sapnap with a crossbow bolt that downs him for the round before similarly dispatching Dream in two hits of his sword.

Sapnap explodes upon respawn in the box - “What was that? I had a health pot!”

“I-” Dream fumbles, face still oddly pale, “Sorry I didn’t- I- I-”

“We had that round!” Sapnap’s arms flail forward as he gestures angrily, Dream freezing further as one hand skims past his shoulder. “I can’t believe- I had a health pot! Punz was on, like, half! We could’ve killed him!”

“Easy, easy,” Quackity moves forward, putting a hand on both of their shoulders - Sapnap seems to relax immediately, while Dream, if anything, only looks more tense. “It’s time for the next round - we’ll talk about this later, alright?”

Dream nods, movements overly tense, and Quackity flashes a toothy smile his way as Sapnap moves back, still mumbling to himself. He and Quackity move to talk in the back corner, words quiet enough that Michael cannot make them out, and something sick and cold slithers over his spine. Sapnap and Quackity are fiancés, aren’t they?

Michael looks over at Dream, mask still covering his face as he looks away through the glass to the arena, shoulders still tight as Michael’s pretty sure they’ve been for as long as he’s seen him since he came onto the server. He remembers the panic that make itself obvious on his face every time Quackity came up to him, even as covered as it is, the similar- if not the same- fear that had painted his face when he respawned fresh off of the Battle Box round after Sapnap’s sword had passed a little too close to his body.

Quackity and Dream- he’s sure, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, that there’s something going on there, dark and dreadful and poisonous. Who’s to say that Sapnap isn’t involved, as well?

---

They finish Battle Box decently well, but not as well as they’d hoped, pulling them up to fifth place with a decently large gap between them and fourth. Quackity and Dream disappear immediately as the Audience Votes begin coming in, leaving Sapnap and Michael to stand awkwardly in the lobby to wait for the rest of their team to come back. Michael watches the crowd for a glimpse of Quackity and Dream, comes up empty. A sigh fizzles through his teeth as he looks up into the sky, the endless blue doing little to ease his nerves - he’s worried, even if he doesn’t want to think about it, for his teammates. For Dream.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the man is scared of Quackity, that there’s an odd sort of history there that Michael conveniently has no information about. Whatever it is, it’s left Dream unsure and uncharacteristically nervous, left the entire team floundering without proper leadership to tie them all together. Really, a part of him knows that the Championships should be the least of his concerns - if he were braver, or a little better at combat, or a little less inclined to just let things pass as they always have, then he’d be raising a fuss. Getting in the way, talking to Dream, doing something other than making backhanded compliments to Quackity that he’s sure have been doing little more than annoy the man further.

“Michael?” Sapnap comes within his line of sight, lips pressed together in a carefully put-together expression that Michael is sure will collapse the moment they’re away from others’ prying eyes, “Can we speak for a moment?”

Michael forces another easy smile to his face as he turns towards his teammate, feels a little disgusted at the amount of them he’s had to use to simply function with the rest of his team. “Sure! Where to?”

They walk at a brisk pace to the team room, Sapnap’s eyes focused forwards the entire time, not speaking. If he’s being honest, it’s a little awkward, but the lighthearted comment on his tongue to break the silence dies out the minute Sapnap closes the door and looks back at him with fierce, focused eyes boring into him.

“What’s your deal?” He hisses immediately, words pitched low even though he doesn’t really have to - there’s no one nearby, and the team rooms are decently soundproofed. Michael feels his hackles rising as Sapnap’s arms cross in front of him, eyes still focused on his own as he talks. “I’m not going to lie- I don’t know you that well, even though you’re on the SMP now, but can you quit it with Quackity already?”

“Quit what?” Michael snarks - sue him - matching Sapnap’s tone with irritation of his own.

“Don’t- you’ve been antagonizing Quackity all day,” Sapnap’s hand runs through his hair, messing up his hair and tangling it into knots, “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re kind of in the middle of a competition here? So it’d be really nice if you could save the fighting for until after we’re done?”

“Says you?” Michael can’t help the retort this time, huffing irately at the offended expression that flashes over the other’s face, “I don’t really know if you’ve noticed, but your teamwork has been a little less than stellar, today. Pot calling the kettle black, much?”

“What-” Sapnap looks confused, even through his anger, gesturing more and more wildly. “What do you even mean?”

“Oh, so are we just ignoring what just happened in Battle Box then?”

Sapnap’s eyes flash as he closes into himself again, hands gripping at his upper arms as he crosses his arms in front of his chest once again. “That- that’s different. That’s because of Dream.”

“Oh, just keep blaming it on the other guy, why don’t you?”

“No-” Sapnap shakes his head furiously. “You haven’t been on here for nearly as long, you don’t get it, Michael. Dream- he’s-,” Sapnap flails, and Michael groans at the familiar words.

“Dream’s what? I was on the team with the guy before, you know. It’s kind of the reason why he invited me in the first place?” He raises an eyebrow. “We worked together perfectly well then - am I supposed to believe that his self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ can’t do the same?”

“You don’t understand,” Sapnap repeats, expression hard and oddly far away, “Dream- he’s changed- he’s done so many terrible things. I don’t know what he’s said to convince you, but he’s bad news, man. He’s hurt- so many people.”

“Oh- you want to talk about hurting people?”

Michael isn’t quite sure what comes over him - only really realizes a white-hot flash of rage lancing through his chest, a sleepless night and half a competition’s worth of anxiety and frustration and build up combining into a sizzling spike of fury that briefly tinges his vision red.

“How about the way Dream looks like he’s about to keel over whenever anyone gets close to him? How about how he flinches back at literally every loud noise and fast movement? How about how Quackity’s been making these stupid, angry comments at him for the entire competition that make him freeze for a minute each time? Or how about when you were in Battle Box and Dream backed away from your sword like he thought you were gonna drive it through his chest?” Michael barely feels himself stepping forward with each word, jabbing his index finger into the other’s chest. “You want to talk about hurting people? How about you go talk to that fiancé of yours and then come back to talk?”

A loud, droning buzz comes over the speakers, alerting them of the end of the break. Michael steps back, face flushed in embarrassment, before the world whirls away and they’re teleported back into the Decision Dome.

He adamantly refuses to meet Sapnap’s eyes as Quackity and Dream materialize in the sector with them, Quackity’s hand clamped around Dream’s upper arm as the other man keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, looking even more panicked and frozen than before the break.

“You ready to win?” Quackity laughs, and Michael watches as his hand tightens around the sleeve of Dream’s jacket, knuckles paling from the strain.

“Yeah,” Michael tries to cheer, and it feels like ash on his tongue. “Let’s do this.”

---

Survival Games ends up being picked next - Quackity and Sapnap quickly pull up to the front of the group, close enough to be within eyesight but too far to really pick up their conversation. Michael keeps an eye out for the reddish glow of their bodies as they scout the surrounding areas for chest, staying back with Dream as they look at the other side of the road. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a smug sort of satisfaction of Sapnap seemingly confronting Quackity about whatever the hell has been going on, as awkward as his whole outburst had been. As it is, some time with Dream is nice without Quackity watching over his shoulder like a hawk - he directs a small, genuine smile at the man by his side that Dream seems to do a double take at before shyly returning it with one of his own.

“There- I think I see a chest,” Michael points under a lamppost, running to the wooden box and flicking the lid upwards. He pulls out a chain chestplate that he promptly puts on himself, then throws over the iron boots to his teammate as well as a small stone axe that he’s sure Dream will make better use of. “We should probably catch up to the others - don’t want to be caught off guard while separated.”

Dream nods, and the two of them pick up the pace before finding another chest that Dream rummages through, this time, finding an iron sword that Michael takes for himself and a cake.

“You’ve been doing really well so far,” Michael says after a few minutes of quiet, words becoming more firm when Dream looks up at him with a surprised expression. “Seriously- you’ve been doing great, man.”

“Thanks,” Dream smiles, words quiet and terribly sincere, and the sinking pit in Michael’s gut returns at the tone. “Not as good as I should, though. I’ve been underperforming a lot,” he laughs a little at the words, but even to Michael’s ears it rings hollow. “It’s not over yet, though.”

“No it’s not,” Michael concedes, rearranging his inventory as they run. “But it’s good enough, man, really - just look at my rankings.”

Dream huffs. “You’ve been doing good, Michael.”

“And you’ve been doing a hell of a lot better than me,” Michael tips his head in his direction. “Give yourself some more credit, man. You’ve been playing well.”

Dream smiles again, but even now the corners of his mouth seem tight, tense. “I need to play better, though, if we want to win,” he says, matter-of-fact, analytical to a damn fault. Michael rolls his eyes, but nods to concede the point.

“Sure, but that goes for all of us, Dream,” he shakes his head. “And it’s okay if we don’t win, you know?”

“No.”

Michael turns, frowning. Dream’s tone has become oddly flat, eyes dead as he continues to stare at the pavement under their feet. He seems to be chewing on his lip anxiously, startled out of his own thoughts when he looks up to meet Michael’s gaze. “I mean- I don’t know. I really have- want to win.”

There’s something so carefully worded about the admission, quiet and scraped open and raw in the slow sincerity of the words. Michael wants to poke at it, wants to understand what’s left him so unsure of every step, what determination lies behind the words that has left desperation clinging to every shallow breath he draws. A crack of thunder on the horizon, heralding a player’s death, reminds him that now is not the time.

Keep your head down.

“Alright,” he smiles thinly, hoping that the fracturing, yawning pit of emptiness in his chest isn’t obvious in the words. “Then we’re going to win.”

---

Michael skids to a stop at the finish line, feeling the elytra deequip as he’s thrown into spectator mode. He runs his hands through his wind-tousled hair, feeling it strain against his fingers as he roughly finger-combs it back into place. Dream and Sapnap are off to the side, standing next to each other but seemingly not speaking - Michael smiles as he floats over, still shaking the adrenaline off from the race.

“Hey,” the two look up, smile in recognition, and Dream waves; there’s a small smile on his face, strained but present. “You both did really good!”

“Thanks, Michael,” Dream laughs, earnest, “I did decent, I guess- haha. Top ten at least.”

Sapnap whoops. “We’re popping off!” Michael cheers in agreement, and their efforts manage to pull Dream’s smile a little wider as he ducks his head to look away again.

“Thanks, guys.”

They watch as Quackity flies through the finish line, appearing in front of them and shaking his arms out as he gets his bearings.

“Geez- that trident,” he shakes his head, looks up. “Hey, there you guys are. How’d we do?”

“Dream got seventh,” Sapnap scrolls through his comm, looking through the rows of contestants and their times as they come in, interspersed by the occasional chat message, “And I got 10th. Michael got- 28th, I think? And you got 32nd.”

“Hmm,” Quackity hums, “What do you think, Dream? Is that good enough to pull us to Dodgebolt?”

Once again, Michael watches as Dream stiffens under the scrutiny, head ducking down and looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Um- I don’t know,” Dream mumbles, “I messed up a trident- fell into the void once, probably could’ve done better otherwise-” his voice trails off, tensing further as Quackity takes his usual spot by his side, jabbing an elbow none-too-lightly into his ribs.

“But you didn’t, though,” Quackity says, tone flippant, “so what do you think? With those placements- is it going to be enough?”

“Hey, we did great, man,” Michael glares at him, more forward than he’d usually be - but all he can see is the shoulder that he has pressed against Dream’s arm, the way Dream’s stood stock still since the moment he made contact, “Lay off of Dream, would you? He did great.”

“Yeah, Q,” Michael’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Sapnap chimes in from the side, rising further when Sapnap moves forward to link his arm with Quackity’s own and half-drag him away from Dream. “Chill out, man, we popped off. We’re gonna fucking win this, ok?”

Quackity’s lips press together; he’s still smiling, but there’s no mistaking the seething darkness that lingers in his narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows, gaze still trained on the pale off-white disk of Dream’s mask. Still, with the rest of the team against him, he’s in a losing fight and he knows it; Michael watches as he visibly backs down, rolling his shoulders back as he lets Sapnap pull him further back.

“We’re going to fucking win this,” he repeats, and Michael wonders how he manages to make the words sound so much like a threat.

---

“Sky battle,” Sapnap calls as the decision dome below them lights up in confirmation of the penultimate game, expression immediately becoming more focused as he turns back to the rest of the team. “Alright- strats, what are we thinking?”

“There’s the iron at spawn,” Dream starts, interrupted by the teleport to the Sky Battle arena, making him cut himself off comically and take a second to shake off the resulting disorientation, “And then there’s the iron in the nearby island. We gotta pick one, tower as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” Sapnap looks down, seemingly calculating, before looking up again - Michael has heard him compared to fire before, but he thinks this is the first time he’s really seen it; there’s a veritable blaze burning in his eyes as he looks at each member of the team, easily taking charge as they prepare for the first round. “Same buddy system as Survival Games - Q, stick with me, Michael, stick with Dream. I’ll tower to the next island- Dream, you good with getting the iron at spawn and crafting armor for us?”

Dream startles, before flashing a small thumbs up at the other - Sapnap smiles wider, teeth bared dangerously.

“This is our game,” he cheers, and Michael enthusiastically whoops in reply, “we’re winning this, you got that team? Let’s go!”

This, Michael thinks, is the way the games should’ve gone - they jump into action upon the start of the game, Michael watching as Dream races through both chests on the spawn island, getting the iron and jumping down cleanly with a water bucket before following Sapnap’s bridge to the other island. He tosses over a pair of leggings and boots as he lands, then takes Sapnap’s excess iron to craft the other pieces of iron for himself and Sapnap as the other man begins shooting at opposing teams. Their communication is near wordless, simple one- or two-word requests communicating all they need as they follow each other seamlessly into the main arena area, sealing off their entrance as they search the ring for other teams.

Sapnap, especially, seems to have shifted - instead of waiting for Dream to take the lead, he seems comfortable barrelling on forward on his own, trusting for Dream to follow his steps. Michael watches as the two of them easily work through the two lagging members of Orange, shooting through a gap in the wall to catch an unsuspecting Yellow player chased by the border. Michael ends up dying to an unlucky block of TNT placed on his head - curses out what appears to be Quig, bounding over to the other side of the arena, and follows Dream and Sapnap as they continue to fight their way through the competition.

It’s not perfect, for sure - Dream hesitates at a bad place a minute later, ending with Sapnap getting 2v1ed and exploding in a flash of red sparkles. Dream is similarly dispatched a few seconds after, and the three of them watch Quackity, caught in the crossfire of two other teams, before he also goes down.

“Good work, team,” Sapnap says as he appears, disoriented, in spectator mode, and they watch the remaining two teams battling in a rapidly shrinking border before Fruit falls as well, leaving Pink as the winners. “That was close- we’ve got this.” The conviction in his voice leaves no room for argument, and Michael, briefly, feels bad for anyone that stands in the way of it.

With the second round, they once again fall into rhythm without any major hiccups - someone tries to cut them off before entering the main arena, but are made quick work of by Sapnap’s relentless onslaught. As Michael watches, Dream seems to regain confidence as well, moving more to fight with Sapnap side by side instead of just playing support, tugging him back from a risky play and catching Punz in a nasty combo that does him in when he manages to slip past Sapnap.

The four of them end up in the final stand off in the middle, but end up getting caught too high up and killed by the border before they can jump down. Sapnap hisses at the narrow defeat, but the disappointment has hardly seemed to dim his determination - if anything, it seems to burn brighter.

“Last round,” he mutters, and Michael watches as Dream walks up to him, bumping him lightly with his shoulder.

“This is our game,” he says, a small smile appearing on his face, and Sapnap returns it with a fiery, blinding one of his own.

“Ours,” he says, and even just standing on the side, watching - Michael believes it.

Still, his concerns have yet to disappear - they linger in his mind as they jump into an adrenaline-filled last round, jumpy from excitement and victory just within their grasps. Dream is still more jittery than he should be, taking a second more than usual to react to fights, and his teamwork with Sapnap - while good - is still noticeably rusty. Michael’s lips thin at the memory of Dream backing away from Sapnap’s sword in Battle Box, hunched into himself, almost on the floor, with a clearly desperate edge to his expression - and no matter how he tries, he can’t quite manage to shake it off.

Unfortunately enough, the third round doesn’t bode well for them from the start - Quackity gets bowed off while bridging to the main arena, and upon entrance there they end up flanked, hard, by another team in a conflict that gets Michael killed within seconds. Sapnap and Dream book it to the other side of the arena, where they manage to work through a full team without too much trouble - but the next minute brings another half-team flying at them from the back, catching them in the middle of trying to recuperate. The two focus Dream in the middle of eating a steak, and Michael watches as Dream steps back instead of moving forward to fight, that same shade of fear making his muscles seize as he stands, stock still, watching helplessly as swords fly his way- Michael cries out, but there’s nothing he can do-

Between one blink and the next, Sapnap is standing in front of Dream, a snarl painting his features as he whirls through both players in a fury. Michael watches, awed, as his sword weaves and dances between the two attacking Dream, making quick work of them both until they’re no more than items scattered over the ground, then grabs Dream by the wrist and drags him up a nearby ladder onto the upper floor, plopping him by the wall and then backing off.

Sapnap stands back as Dream sits against the wall, breathing fast and labored, dropping to his knees with his hands in front of him, palms up, no weapons in hand. Michael watches, frantic, for the signs of any teams nearby - with Dream panicking and Sapnap’s back to the rest of the arena, they’d be easy pickings - but for once, luck seems to be on their side, because no one comes. Dream heaves a breath through his lungs, deep and shuddery - Sapnap watches, lips flat from concern, but doesn’t speak.

“You good to continue?” he asks, when Dream seems calm enough to recognize his surroundings, and Dream looks up at the words, jaw slack from shock and disorientation, before his head dips in a firm nod.

“Good,” Sapnap smiles, tight-lipped and fiercely determined, fiercely loyal, as he reaches out a hand that Dream moves to take. “Let’s go fuck them up, yeah? You and me, just like we used to.”

Michael watches, heart in his chest, as they stand together to face the rest of the competition, towering towards the middle and facing off with the remaining teams, watches as they move forwards through explosions and buckets of lava, coalescing onto the middle island, as they battle through the remaining opponents as one in a clean spiral of clashing blades and flying arrows, fighting with their backs to each other in the center of the arena. He watches as a well-placed fishing rod by Dream knocks their final opponent off the platform, leaving them in the middle, triumphant, as the only remaining team -

Watches, a brilliant, bubbling laugh in his chest as Dream and Sapnap take their spots in the middle of the arena, standing side by side as Sapnap raises Dream’s hand in victory, both laughing and cheering into the sky.

---

Their performance in Sky Battle manages to pull them to third - but second place still stands a few hundred coins away, and they watch anxiously as Parkour Tag is chosen as the last game and they are transported over the arena.

“Last game,” Sapnap calls, “We’ve got this, alright?”

He gets terse, short nods in return - it’ll be a close game, and even Michael is feeling the pressure. He breathes a soft, quiet breath through his teeth as they prepare, looking over to the opposite team as they choose their hunters and runners.

“Dream, you up to hunting first four?” Sapnap seems to be watching the effects of his words more, waiting for Dream’s agreement before moving forward, sliding into the position of leader easily when Dream seems to struggle. Dream nods and steps into the hunter’s box, lips pressed together, flat and focused, and Michael turns back to the arena to plan out his route.

Parkour, by far, is not his strong suit. It hadn’t been his strong suit during Parkour Warrior and sure as hell isn’t it now - he enjoys it well enough, but with the pressure of a hunter on him or the time creeping past and the competition standings hanging over his head like a guillotine, he’s prone to slipping up and he knows it. The map is full of dizzying, multi-colored structures and difficult jumps, the twists and turns of the arena making his head spin. Being good at parkour is more than being good at movement - it involves being able to make split-second decisions and execute them with no time to hesitate. Unfortunately, Michael isn’t particularly good at any of that, so Parkour Tag mostly just stresses him the hell out.

He sets out to the arena, listening for callouts over comms as he fumbles over the buildings. Halfway through the game, Dream’s voice comes through comms, quiet, focused.

“Gottem.”

“Nice, Dream,” Michael smiles, trying not to trip over a particularly hard jump, only to fall to being tagged in the back by the opposing team’s hunter - Ant, if he remembers right. “Sapnap and Q are still in- we’ve got this.”

Once again, each time, Dream races through the opposing team in seconds, seemingly going faster with each round. Michael has heard his reputation as a hunter before, but only now is he really appreciating the extent - the speed at which he manages to dispatch all three opponents is downright terrifying. They manage to win all four rounds, lingering around second place overall on the leaderboards, before Sapnap and Dream switch off for hunting.

With each round, Michael watches Dream in the lobby, watching as he tenses further in focus and determination and no small degree of fear, but it hadn’t been nearly as obvious in between rounds. Now, with him in the arena with Quackity and himself, Dream’s jumpiness is all that more palpable, adrenaline making him pace and jump in place from where he stands at the edge of the place. The glass lowers, and he explodes into motion, bounding on top of the nearest tower to wait for the hunter to come towards them.

Michael ends up caught first, early in the round, once again, and resolves to following Dream over the glass to watch his movements and make callouts for the hunter chasing behind him. Watching Dream move through the arena, dodging below fixtures and through tunnels and jumping from tower to tower with seemingly no regard for gravity pulling him down, it’s become all the more obvious that this is his element. He makes another hairpin turn around a pole, kicking himself up over a tower and then diving from it to a nearby building, landing on a ledge inside it, hands clutching the wall - Michael watches, quietly awed, as he outlasts the hunter, landing in small, panting breaths in the lobby.

“Great work,” he cheers, quiet, as Dream shakes off the last dregs of the adrenaline, all of them watching the leaderboard anxiously, “Just three more rounds, alright?”

The rounds that follow continue in much of the same vein - Dream, once he’s gotten started, seems near-impossible to chase down; Michael and Quackity provide support, distracting the hunter for as long as they can until they get tagged, but part of him wonders if it’s all even necessary. Dream flies from structure to structure seemingly unhindered by The Laws That Be, expression firm, if a little frantic, as he parkours his way through the arena. To their credit, the hunters chase, and several come pretty close - but Dream, worked up on adrenaline or anxiety or some twisted mix of the two, races over and around the buildings within the arena like his life depends on it.

It’s a surprisingly (if sickeningly) apt description - the skill in parkour is far from unacknowledged on Dream’s record; they all know his reputation with Parkour Warrior, all know that there are little that can match his skill as a traucer - but there’s something newly desperate in the way he runs, the muscles of his body tight and taut even in between rounds, expression permanently tight at the corners from fear. His movements, lacking in their usual fluidity, are made up with sheer speed and mad scrambles up walls that no one else seems to dare replicate. It’s concerning, even to Michael’s untrained eye, how frantic he seems the entire time, the flashes of expressions that he’ll direct towards the hunter like being caught by them will be his end, but- if anything, at least it’s effective.

Between his parkour and Sapnap’s own skill, they manage to dominate the other teams without much issue, and the bonuses from eliminating the other team first combined with Dream’s survival points each round land them a first place for the game by just a few hundred coins. The four of them watch with bated breaths for the event standings, whooping and cheering together when it shows the red rabbits in second -

“DODGEBOLT, BABY!” Quackity cheers, loudly, and the rest of them join him, laughing and screaming incoherently, “LET’S FUCKING GO!”

“LET’S FUCKING GO!” Sapnap punches the air with a loud, resolute whoop of joy, and Dream - still shaking off the jitters of his last round in Parkour Tag - soon joins in with a few cheers of his own.

Michael watches them all with a smile on his face as they cheer in victory - Dodgebolt has them against the Yellow Yaks, which will be a hard match up, but between Dream and Sapnap’s skill, if they all stay focused, they shouldn’t have any issue.

They’ve done it. They’ve made it to Dodgebolt - if they keep their heads in the game, then they should win. All he has to do is keep his head down a little longer, long enough to win them the game, long enough for them to go home with new crowns and new coins, long enough for him to go back to living his quaint little life in his quaint little house - going back to heckling the Warden at night and hanging with Bad and Puffy, working on builds and living life away from the rest and pretending that nothing is wrong. The server will go back to normal come tomorrow, and it will all be okay.

The smile slips off his face.

They’ve done it. And then they’ll go back to the SMP, and Dream might evade whatever immediate consequences come with losing, but there’s no evidence that whatever’s caused that heartstopping, devastating fear that has characterized his every move is going to stop. They’ll win, and they’ll go back to the SMP, and they’ll keep dying and fighting wars and keep pretending that the world they live in is normal; they’ll go back to the server, and Michael will go back in his house while Dream goes back into his cell directly across from it, still locked in a black box with no way in or out, no means of communication with anyone outside, locked away with the key thrown away for anything to happen with no one to know-

Michael glances over to Dream, to the tense edge of his shoulders that has never left for as long as the tournament has continued and long before. To the grey-faced, grey-eyed inhabitants of the SMP, coming to the Championships with sealed lips and a shared determination to never reveal that anything is wrong, to pretend that things are normal and move on.

Michael’s hands clench into fists at his side, then unclench, the helplessness cutting through his excitement like a splash of cold water straight through his chest. They’ll win the Championship, and then what? They’ll go back to the server, and then what?

He looks up at the sky, avoiding the eyes of the rest of his team as they are teleported to the arena. Around him, nothing comes in reply.

---

“Shit-”

Sapnap disappears in a flourish of red particles, and Michael winces as Dream picks up the arrow he left behind, biting his lip as he watches the opposite side maneuver on the ice.

Both of Dream’s shots hit true, and Michael switches to dodging over the ice as the opposing team begins to shoot. His mind is still buzzing with uncertainty, questions whirling around his skull and making his head spin, the reminder to just let things be raging against the anxiety that has wormed its way deep into his bones for the better part of the day. His performance has fallen a bit as a result, and they’re tied, 2-2, for the last round of Dodgebolt against Yellow - winner takes all.

He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to tell, but he wants to fall back into the background. He wants to make a difference, but also wants nothing more than to go on pretending that everything is fine. It would be so, so easy to move on and wash his hands of the whole affair - it’s not like anyone else will know, only himself and the guilt that he’s sure will haunt him to remind him of his failures. Is there even anything he can do? He’s no genius at combat, or parkour, or strategy- all he has are his eyes, his ability to see what the hell is happening with no means to change any of it.

An arrow whizzes towards him, too low to hit, and falls to the ice by his feet. Michael feels it plop into his inventory as he runs past it, shivering slightly from the cold or adrenaline or some mix of the two - not that he can really tell. The other team still has an arrow, the gleaming arrowhead catching the light as the person shooting - Jack, it looks like - moves it from one side to the other, looking for someone to aim. Michael lets the arrow into his hand, feeling its weight.

A sudden shock of clarity.

He staggers back and nearly trips over his own feet, feeling relief rock his body when he manages to catch his balance - his eyes rake over the rest of his team, still dodging over the ice, completely focused on the opposing side. He worries his lip between his teeth - it’s a risk. It’s a hell of a risk, and if he messes up - they’re fucked. They’re more than fucked. There’s a good chance that this does more harm than good, a good chance that it won’t do anything at all.

Michael takes a deep breath, and nocks his arrow.

With his bow pointed to the floor, he doesn’t think anyone’s noticed yet - especially the rest of his team, gazes still trained over the centerline to the other side of the arena. Michael plants his feet, raises his bow, aims - he’s standing still, too still, and he can already see Jack swinging the bow towards him from the corner of his eye, preparing to let the arrow fly directly at him. That’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

Keep your head down.

Michael lets go, and Quackity manages to turn just in time to see the arrow hit him between his eyes.

Not this time.

Michael just manages a wicked, satisfied smirk before the world disappears in a flash of red.

---

“What the hell was that?”

Michael teleports into the middle of the MCC main lobby, finding Quackity already mid-yell in front of the podium, where the Yellow Yaks have taken their places as the winners of the Championships, new, shining crowns on their heads as they greet the crowd with smiles and cheers. Michael turns to where the rest of the team has gathered in the corner, Quackity hissing angrily at Dream, curled into himself against the fence.

“I- I-”

“You lost us the fucking game, that’s what you did,” Quackity grabs him by the arm, rage painting his features as he yanks Dream closer to him, ignoring the other’s panicked yell at the proximity and flailing to get away. “What the fuck- you had both the arrows. How the fuck did you miss that?”

“Back the hell off, Quackity.”

Michael steps forward, bodily shoving Quackity out of the way - Dream’s head rises just enough for the two eyes painted on his mask to look above where they’d been hidden behind his arms, though Michael’s far too lost in his own anger to pay any mind to him at the moment. Quackity turns his furious direction towards Michael, only seeming to get angrier as he meets his eyes.

“Oh, fuck off, Michael- you-” he rakes a hand through his hair, “You fucking- we fucking lost because of you, you know that? We had that! We were going to win that, you fucker-”

“And then what, Quackity?” The words Michael had been pushing back the entire day come forth, mixed with his simmering anxiety and muffled anger that he’d been forced to push down, game after game after game, one bubbling mess of emotion underscoring his tone and making Quackity rear back, “Then you’ll go back the SMP and pretend that everything’s fine and dandy? Go back to your shiny little country with a shiny new coin, beat up Dream a few times to work off the adrenaline because, hey, it’s not like anyone else is gonna know if he’s black and blue inside of that shitstain of a prison, is that right?”

The flash of panic that makes its way over Quackity’s face is more than enough to confirm the worst of Michael’s assumptions, and the rage that has made a home in his chest only burns hotter.

“What- what the fuck did he say?” Quackity barely manages to catch onto his tone, pressing harder with narrowed eyes and a snarl, “He’s lying, you fucking idiot, that’s all he ever fucking does-”

“He’s not told me shit,” Michael presses forward, forcefully pushing Quackity away from Dream, who is cowering from both of them behind him, “But you would know a hell of a lot about that, wouldn’t you Quackity?”

“I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re on about, pal,” Quackity shakes his head, hair whipping past his eyes, “And I’d recommend you shut your fucking mouth before you go around hurling baseless accusations- I could have you sued for defamation, you know-”

“Oh, we’re talking law, now? Fine! We’ll talk legalities- how about we start with that casino of yours and work from there?”

Sapnap moves over, quiet thus far as he watched from the sidelines, and Michael watches as Quackity relaxes, minisculely, at his approach - only to tense further when Sapnap presses a hand to his shoulder, meeting his eyes with blazing eyes staring right at his.

“Q,” Sapnap says, voice uncharacteristically serious, “tell the truth, now- what did you do?”

Quackity laughs - it sounds unsure, even in Michael’s ears, “Sapnap? You can’t tell me you believe-” he waves his hands frantically, “this- this fucking asshole, now, do you hear him? He sounds- he’s literally out of his fucking mind-”

Sapnap shakes his head, firm. “Quackity, I’ll need you to cut the bullshit. What did you do?”

“He’s backing up Dream, Sapnap,” Quackity focuses his gaze on Sapnap, something creeping up in his tone, sweet and cloying despite the bitter tone, that Michael can’t quite recognize, “You know what Dream is like- he pulled the same shit with you, remember? You and George? Tommy?” He waves a hand at Dream, who ducks down further at the attention, “He hasn’t changed, man! He’s still pulling the same bullshit, still manipulating people for the hell of it- you know, the exact same thing he did to you? Don’t fall for that again, man.”

“I-” Sapnap seems to hesitate, conflict warring over his features.

“Look at me, Sap - you know what Dream’s like. He pretends to be your friend, makes up some stupid bullshit to justify his shit - Michael hasn’t been around for as long, not like the two of us, remember? He doesn’t know.” Quackity brings his hand to Sapnap’s own, ignoring Michael’s protests as he laces their fingers together, “I care about you, Sap. All of this- I’m just worried that he’ll end up manipulating you again. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“...liar.”

“What?”

Sapnap steps back, wrenching his hand out of Quackity’s own. His expression, out of what Michael can see from the sliver of his face that is facing him, is stormy with fury and no small amount of regret - Quackity steps back, unease finally beginning to flicker in the corners of his self-satisfied expression as Sapnap stares him down.

“You’re a liar, Quackity.” Sapnap draws himself up. “Now, I’m asking this for the last time- what did you do?”

Quackity’s expression stutters, falls, as Sapnap stands back next to Michael, the two of them between him and Dream. His eyes flick between their faces, then to Dream, then back again, frown deepening with every pass he makes between the three of them. Michael keeps his arms crossed in front of his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every second of silence that ticks by, Quackity seeming to grow more and more angry and tense under their scrutiny and unforgiving stances-

-a second passes, and he throws himself forward.

“Quackity!”

Michael only manages to throw himself out of the way of the man barrelling towards him just in time - too late, he realizes that he wasn’t Quackity’s intended target. He tackles Dream to the ground, pinning the taller man underneath himself onto the ground in a rough thump that seems to knock all the air out of him. Dream immediately begins to thrash aimlessly, jaw going slack in panic as Quackity levels his arm against his neck, going still as Quackity presses harder against his windpipe. Michael is only barely close enough to pick up what he says over the sound of the surrounding screaming, Sapnap rushing forward to pull Quackity off to no avail-

“-make what I did two weeks ago look like a fucking joke when we get back, going to make you wish you fucking died-”

The world explodes into white.

When Michael’s vision clears, he’s face to face to the stony face of one of the MCC admins, their status displayed by the proud red [Admin] by their nametags and the fact that they’re floating several inches off the fucking floor. He backs away, strangely winded - probably from the panic or adrenaline or yelling or, more accurately, all three, as Quackity is pulled back effortlessly by an admin, easily caging his flailing limbs with a snap of code as he is frozen into place - and Michael whoops.

“LET’S GO!”

(The arrow hits Michael in the shoulder, and he disappears in a flash of red - only instead of going to his usual place above the Dodgebolt arena, standing with the other competitors, he finds himself teleported in front of a dizzying array of screens and buttons, too many to have any idea where they connect and how they work. Michael turns to meet the faces of the MCC Admins, each one looking at him with odd, concerned expressions and furrowed brows.

“You shot your teammate,” one says - Noxite - and Michael nods to concede the point, not quite finding the words to speak. “Why?”

“If you had such a big issue with the teams, you could’ve just talked to Scott,” another one pipes up from the back, “I’m sure we could’ve worked something out.”

“I know, I know,” Michael runs his hand through his hair, both relieved at the plan working better than he could’ve ever fucking imagined and suddenly lost for words in front of the admins, each one looking at him with their full attention. Every nerve in his body rails against the scrutiny, reminds him to pretend that nothing is wrong - but it’s too late to pretend, now. It’s been too late for a long, long time.

He remembers Dream, looking away all competition, voice dead and lacking all of its former vitality - remembers Puffy, hair a little greyer from stress, grief painting her face whenever she thought anyone wasn’t looking - remembers Bad, hands still shaking despite his attempts to hide it - the prison, looming on the horizon, unbeatable, impenetrable - himself, helpless, for all this time, to do anything but watch and wait. Until now. He takes a deep breath, steels himself-

“Something’s wrong with Dream.”)

“Thank you for your information, Michael,” Noxite smiles at him, and relief throws itself through his system so fast that it makes him dizzy- “We’ll handle this from here. Good job.”

“Holy shit- when did you get time to contact the fucking admins, Michael?”

Michael ignores the clamor around him as the lobby bursts into activity and people talking over each other, each one probably trying to figure out what the hell just happened, ignores Sapnap muttering, awed, from beside him, to move towards Dream, still sprawled out over the floor. There’s an admin by him, standing by to seemingly keep the crowd away but not engaging with Dream directly, and Michael ducks by them to kneel down by Dream and meet his gaze.

“Hey,” Michael smiles, still shaking from the leftover adrenaline as he presses his hands to the ground to try and hide it, “We’ve got you. It’s over- Quackity’s gone. You’re safe now.”

“Michael?” Dream’s voice is so damn small when his head twists to look over, hair having fallen largely fallen out of his ponytail to land in wisps all around his face. “You- how-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael shushes him, chest twisting painfully. “It’s alright.”

“...I don’t feel so good.”

Dream coughs harshly, and Michael quickly maneuvers him to a sitting position as his shoulders shake with another one, hand flying to his mouth as he is wracked with loud, wet-sounding coughs. Concern wells up in his throat, watching as Dream shakes with more coughing, nearly choking as he curls into himself, muscles tense. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls his hand back, and Michael gasps at the sight.

“Dream-”

There’s blood, and a lot of it - mixed with the saliva in his palm, shiny and stringy over the planes of his hand, dribbling past his lips and down his chin. His teeth are similarly stained red when his mouth opens slightly, stance wobbling before he collapses altogether against Michael’s body - Michael can barely hear himself shouting for a medic as Dream heaves a rattling, wet sounding breath into his shoulder.

“Th’ts not g’d,” he mumbles, quiet, before going completely limp.

---

When you first get strong enough to go to the Nether and collect blaze rods and brew potions for the first time, the first thing that gets beaten into your head forwards, backwards, left, right, and every way in between is that health and regen aren’t a replacement for actual recovery. Instant health pots are famous for their tendency to heal everything affected to the same degree - which is bad when you have a particularly deep injury, as it’ll often finish healing it near the surface while the injury persists underneath. Regen pots tend to be better at that front, but even they cannot completely fix a serious injury - the two can only act as a temporary, emergency fix for severe wounds, often being an invaluable resource to stop the worst of the bleeding and hold everything together for long enough to bring someone to proper medical attention.

Unfortunately, when someone tries to use health pots and regens to completely bypass the time and rest needed for the body to properly heal itself and recover, what usually ends up happening is internal injuries - not completely healed by the potions alone - continue to be jostled and irritated, which can lead to further, worse, problems with internal bleeding and bones shifting out of place if they’ve been broken, which can then pierce through muscle and organ tissue - to be honest, Michael was never the best with all the medical stuff, and he’s half-sure that the horror stories he’s heard were exaggerated to beat it into his head never to be an idiot that thinks that potions can solve everything, but either way, he’s never tested his luck with the things.

Unfortunately, Dream doesn’t seem to have done the same, as the entire day’s worth of intense activity, between practices and MCC itself, were more than enough to fuck over the healing effects of whatever health potions he apparently downed before coming to the Championships. From what Michael has heard, it got a little harried after he was first brought into the hospital, but he’s apparently stabilized since - recovery will be slow, both physically and mentally, but at least he’s out of that damn prison to actually start on that path.

“Simply put, your teammate is a bit of an idiot,” Scott tells him when he finally catches him in the waiting room, hair fluffed up at the sides from where he’s evidently messed it up in Admin-related stress. “But he should be alright now, with proper medical attention and lots of rest - make sure to tell him to actually rest, will ya? No more parkouring for him - he can wait until after he’s out of the hospital to show us all how it’s done.”

Michael laughs, relief settling into his chest, “Thanks, Scott.” He directs a playfully accusing look towards the other, a grin tugging at his lips, “but you know, he’s only my teammate because you made it that way. Kinda sounds like your own fault there..”

“Oh, quiet, you.” Scott laughs- he looks stressed, and Michael feels a twinge of sympathy. The administrative side of things after his whole stunt at Dodgebolt, and then especially with what happened in the main lobby, must be an absolute nightmare. “Anyway, I need to go back - Admin meeting,” he shakes his head, already looking at his comm. “You should go see Dream, by the way. I think he’s awake.”

“Thanks for everything, Scott.”

Scott smiles at him, soft, sincere. “Go see your friend.”

He disappears in a flash of white light, teleporting away, and Michael looks at the empty space where he stood for a few seconds before standing up out of his chair to move towards the door. He hesitates at it for a second, hand on the doorknob but not yet turning it to the side - it’s suddenly awkward, without the pressure of the competition at his back and the relentless questions of what he should do. He doesn’t even know if Dream knows what happened, or if he’ll be happy with him - for all he knows, Dream was the one who started the whole ‘don’t tell the Championships what happens in the server’ deal. His teeth catch on his lip as he stands, lost in thought, at the door.

Well. Here goes nothing.

He eases the door open, getting a glimpse inside the room - it’s white, clean-looking, the smell of disinfectant heavy in the air. There’s a bed in the middle of the room, a chair on the side with his Championships clothing and what appears to be some sort of padded body armor laid over the cushions. Dream, as expected, is lying down in the bed, unmoving; for a second, Michael thinks he’s sleeping, before he suddenly twists his head over to look at him.

“Michael?”

“Hey,” Michael smiles, moving into the room and closing the door behind him. For the first time today, Dream’s face isn’t masked, a glimpse of it visible behind him on the dresser by the bed. He blinks up at him owlishly, eyes wide and green, looking even bigger combined with the hollow planes of his cheeks, overlaid by pale, slightly raised scars. “How are you feeling, man?”

“Um-” Dream tries to pull himself up, visibly struggling, and Michael rolls his eyes as he hurries over to help raise the back of the cot because you’re supposed to be resting, Dream, just let the fancy bed do its job, and settles back with an odd look on his face as Michael pulls over a chair. “Good? I think? I mean-” he flails his hands a bit, “this is weird. And I kind of hate this gown- but um. Yeah.”

“That’s fair,” Michael laughs, and Dream huffs a small laugh out of his own, settling back into his pillow. He looks strangely small, with all the layers stripped away, frail and skinny against the sheets. His skin isn’t that same paper-white shade it had been when he collapsed in the middle of the fucking lobby, but it’s still pale enough to be vaguely worrying, especially combined with the IV and other wires hooked up to him.

“Apparently, I’m dehydrated,” Dream drawls when he catches Michael staring at the IV, making a small, frustrated sound through his teeth as Michael turns to look at him, “figures, I guess, but still sucks. I hate needles.”

“Ouch,” Michael winces in sympathy, “yeah, those don’t look that fun.” Dream smiles up at him, before his expression shutters, dulls, and he looks away, not meeting his eyes. The sight of it makes Michael frown, quiet, remembering the way he’d drawn back from them all over and over again throughout the day - that fear and trauma won’t go away in a day, but it hurts all that much more to see his face as panic flashes across it and he pulls back, gaze carefully detached.

“Dream?” Michael moves closer, but is careful not to make contact, “you alright?”

“Hmm?” Dream directs another small, tight smile his way, strained at the corners as his eyes flick away to the floor once again, “yeah- I’m- I’m fine.”

Michael sighs, but decides not to push it. “Have you done anything else here, yet?”

Dream shakes his head. “No- I think that someone’s going to bring food over soon, I’m not sure. Not really hungry,” he mutters, half to himself, and Michael tamps down the concern that wells up in protest, “But we’ll see, I guess.”

“That’s good,” Michael nods, and Dream looks up at him, expression startlingly unsure.

“Um- do you know?” He wrings his hands together, eyes darting across the room nervously before flicking over Michaels’ face, and Michael tries to make himself look as calm and comfortable as possible, “I mean- do you know what’s going on with- everyone?”

Ah. Michael winces internally- he probably should’ve expected this question, but in the fallout of what happened in the lobby and Dream, you know, passing out in his arms, he ended up brushing off or ignoring a lot of the chaos that resulted. He wracks his head for snippets of information that he’d seen in his communicator and from visitors to the waiting room, including people that had been there with him that had been pulled for questioning and meetings, Tommy’s expletive-filled yelling from the lobby still ringing in his head.

“Um- I think that they’ve got a team of moderators pulled up to investigate the server, figure out what’s been going on,” Michael ticks names off on his hands, mentally going through the list of people that he’s been given information on, “They have Quackity in custody, I think, for the moment- they’re still waiting for more information on what to do with him, but they’ve got a whole MCC lobby’s worth of witnesses that saw him assault you so far, if you plan on pressing charges and stuff- um- Sapnap got pulled for questioning, nothing too major right now, I think that they’re going through the other server members that were attending the Championships for the moment.”

“Are they- putting them in jail?” Dream’s voice sounds slightly tinny despite his forced calm, arms crossed in front of him, and Michael shakes his head firmly.

“No- legal stuff between servers is weird, and I think they’re holding off on anything like that for now. Quackity’s just there at the moment because of assault charges on the MCC server - stuff in the SMP is still technically outside of their jurisdiction.” Dream visibly relaxes, and Michael smiles thinly, “It’ll be rough for a few weeks as they collect evidence and figure out what to do, but for now, they’re just focusing on recovery - giving people medical attention if they need it, lining up therapists,” he laughs, quietly, “lots of therapists.”

Dream hums, looking away. The corners of his mouth fall, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes a shuddery sigh through his lips.

“I- never wanted it to get this bad,” he opens his eyes, looking down at his hands, lip slightly trembling, “I don’t- I don’t know where it all went wrong.”

“Hey,” Michael slides closer, ducking to meet Dream’s eyes with a soft smile. “You’re not alone anymore, alright? You don’t have to fix it all by yourself. Focus on yourself, on recovering.”

Dream hesitates, breath seeming caught in his throat, wide green eyes staring into Michael’s own, before ducking his head to look away with a slight nod. Michael leans back in his chair, watching as Dream turns to the side, curling in on himself slightly with a small wince, eyes fixed on the window.

“Didn’t think I was going to see the sun again,” Dream says after a while, gaze still trained behind the glass to where the sun is slowly setting, rays of sunlight streaming past the slits in the blinds and casting glowing stripes of honey-gold throughout the room and over Dream’s face. Michael feels something cold press against the back of his throat, the quiet admission making air stutter in his lungs at the image of Dream, alone, huddled in the middle of an obsidian box for months and months and months, never knowing if he’d see anything other than the same black walls for the rest of his life.

“You’re not there, anymore. You’re safe now.”

Dream doesn’t reply, continuing to look out the window silently, breathing slowly as he moves his hand through a sunbeam, watching the way it streams between his fingers and warms his skin, seeming mesmerized by its soft glow.

“Michael?” Dream looks over, and Michael feels the air punched out of his lungs at the soft, disbelieving sincerity held within his expression, the fearful edges for once pulled back far enough for the light to catch the quiet, heartfelt appreciation gathered in the slight quirk of his lips and downward slope of his eyes. He looks away a second after, a band of light cutting across his face and landing over the bridge of his nose, smile still on his face, voice almost too quiet to make out. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Michael feels his own smile widen, looking out the window himself- it really is a beautiful sunset. “What are friends for?”

#-> my writing #my writing :D #c!Quackity critical #tw trauma #tw abuse #tw torture #tw panic attack #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting #tw needles #tw hospitals #tw emotional distress #pandora's vault #prison arc #god this was so fun #hope you all enjoy !!#long post

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