#lost my septum in my sleep the other night | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pbandjesse · 9 months ago

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I'm on my way back from visiting Jess. And I had such a awesome day. Like seriously I could not have asked for a better Saturday with my best friend.

I slept a lot better last night. I did wake up a couple times. It was hard to fall asleep at first because sweet pea kept biting me and then I pushed him off the bed and I felt bad so I had to go downstairs and give him treats. But I was able to sleep until James left for work. They stopped and gave me a kiss and said goodbye and told me to be safe. I slept in until about 9:00.

When I woke up I texted Jess that I was going to leave at 9:40. And I took a couple extra minutes to wake myself up. I made the bed and it took my time. But I felt really good. I went and got dressed and I wore my new pretty dress that I plan on bringing to gonda. Kind of like as a test run. But it ended up being super comfortable and it stays up and doesn't shift around so I feel very good at it. I just wish it had pockets.

I warmed up one of the biscuits James made the other day and said goodbye to sweet pea and then I was on the road by 9:40. And it's a really nice ride. It's pretty easy. It's an hour 20 and hit any traffic. And I just listened to music and rolled up at Jess's house at 11:00.

She was at the door when I pulled up and we were waving at each other. And I was just so happy to see her. I texted James to let them know that I was safe and then we went inside and she showed me some of her house updates. Including where she pulled the carpet up to reveal the original hardwood. Which is very exciting. And I'm very jealous because I hate our carpets. And we would sit for a little while while she gave me some things that she collected. I brought my fake nose ring so she could try it because she's thinking about getting her septum pierced. And we talked about our plan for the day.

The plan was to go to flower farm to pick tulips. After that we decided we would go walk around the mall and then we would go to Costco and trader Joe's. And in there we would also have a couple meals. So our first stop was going to be brunch.

We took her car and we drove to a diner in swedesboro and it was really good. It was pretty busy but they sat us right away. And our waiter was nice. We got sandwiches and I told her all about the movie last night and we just caught up on stuff. Like we're text ing constantly but sometimes the nuance is lost. And it was just really nice to hear about the dates she's been on and me and James stuff and our plans and some of the Uganda things. And I just was having a wonderful time.

At the end of our meal I went to pay and they were having some Wi-Fi issues so Jess wanted to use the bathroom while we figured that out. And then after I paid I also used the bathroom. And then we drove to the farm. And it was great.

1.5 million flowers. That's what the paperwork said. And I believe it because it was crazy. Rose and Rose and Rose of tulips and daffodils. It was beautiful. And we decided we were going to get the 10 stems for $10 thing that they were doing. Jess wanted to get one of everything and I wanted to get a variety of the purple ones. I just thought that would be fun. So we walked up and down the road trying to pick the best ones and some of them were loud because they had bees inside of them. But it was just a lot of fun figuring out how you pulled them without pulling the bulb up. Just would end up pulling three bulbs by accident I only pulled one. And it was just a beautiful day. And even though there was a lot of people there I didn't feel like we were on top of anyone and while it was windy it was just really beautiful. And after we picked our flowers we would take some pictures and just be silly and sit at the picnic table and just enjoyed being outside.

You would walk over to the farm stand and they had a lot of peach cider products but nothing I was really interested in. Jeff says that the guy that was running the stand was flirting with her and I believe it. She's very cute. And then we went to pay and it was a child at the register which was very funny to me. And we went to find the car. Which was difficult. We struggled to find the car all day. We're not good at remembering where we parked.

Next we went back to the house because for the rest of the day we would take our own cars. It just made more sense because it was in the direction of home for me and we didn't want me to have to pack So we got back to the house and we spent like 45 minutes just chilling on the couch. Playing with Lady Bird. Drinking water. You're both really thirsty after the flower farm. Just surprisingly dehydrating activity. But we chilled for a bit and double checked that we were both still cool with our plan. And then it was time to go.

We both stuck around cars like I said and we drove to the Christiana Mall. I was mostly behind just for the whole time but I did lose her at one point but then I got up at her again and we were waving at each other being silly. And we parked near the Barnes & Noble so we had a pretty solid place to meet in case we didn't get lost. But it ended up being fine.

And man is it cool to go to a not dead mall. This mall was crazy. I haven't been to the small in a very long time. I think I have gone a few times like a decade and a half ago. But the parking lot was fullful and it was busy inside. And it was just so nice to experience that again. Because I was such a mall kid. Like that was my life when I was in high school. And it's the same for Jess so we get to reminisce and this was just a really good mom. And we were doing really good not to buying nonsense. We both did buy some stuff. She got a shirt and I got James a gift. It's a jacket. And I bought hand sanitizers about the bodyworks because I use those all the time now. Trying not to get sick again. And we both went to a special fancy candy shop where we did their fancy pick and mix. And we were very good about staying at our $10 limit. We were both under it.

And we also just had really nice interactions with people. In the stores people just be really nice. There was a baby that tried to hand me a lollipop and then there was a whole like little moment we had together. And we got to see the Easter Bunny. And we went in and out of every store that we were interested in and just telling stories and talking about stuff. We went and airy and I found a bathing suit I liked in the clearance section but they didn't have my size and I was a little bummed about it but that's okay. At least I know kind of know like somewhere I can look. Because I do want to get a new bathing suit this year. But it's not like a need need it's just something I want to look out for.

But we were having a great time. Looking at the calico critters at Barnes & Noble. Going in the Hot topic. Looking at toys and clothing and people. Being together. It was awesome. And once we felt like we had seen everything we wanted to see we decided it was time for dinner.

Just took me to a sushi place that she really enjoys. And I wasn't like particularly hungry. But I'm so glad we went. It was one precious. And two the food was really good.

our waiter Isaiah was very nice. But he brought the food all out very weird order. We ordered at a mommy to come first but it came last. But it was fine. We both got rice hand roll things that are kind of triangular and they both had avocado in them and were wrapped in seaweed. I would love to tell you what they're called but talk to text is not understanding what I'm saying so I'm not going to worry about that. And we also got edamame. And she got me so soup and salmon over rice. Which also has a name but text to talk to text will not write it correctly. So whatever. And then I got a coconut pudding drink. To go at the end it was so good. I told Jesse tasted like a fancy candle and she said that's disgusting. But it was really nice. And I was just having a great time watching people around us and eating my edamame and seeing what everybody else got over here in conversations and just having fun with just. It was great. We make each other laugh and it's a good time. And I said her at one point I'm just having such a nice day I'm having such a good time. And she was like I'm so glad that you're telling me how much fun you're having and if it was anyone else I would say that sounded sarcastic but I know she was being serious because we both like to tell each other when we're having fun. Plus we were both really excited that we were hanging out but we get to be in our own houses later which that is something we both struggle with I think when we have sleepovers is like I'm loving this but I would love to be home. So now that we're closer and we can do these day trips it makes everything just a little easier.

While we were sitting there I had decided that I wanted to go back for the jacket for James. Originally I was going to try to buy it online but then I saw the people were reselling it for like twice what it is in the store and it's not available in the size I wanted on the website. And they had given me a coupon when we were leaving so I was able to get the jacket for 25% off plus they took another $10 off for giving them my email. So I really felt like I won in the long run. though I did not like that we had two backtracking through them all and it was a little bit of a weird spot so we had to go like all the way back around. But whatever. It's not like we were in a rush to go anywhere.

Our next stop was to go to Costco. I told Jess I was excited because I haven't been to Costco in a very long time I thought it would be fun but she's like it is a very stressful. And she's not wrong. There was entirely too many people. But I did have fun. And she bought me a couple things. Including cookie bites that are thin mints. And some street corn dip. And a jam that's really tall. Like it's the jam that we normally buy except that I much larger container. So I'm very excited about that. And we got almost everything on her list. It was fun walking up and down the aisles and seeing all the weird stuff that they sell. There was even a couple things I would absolutely buy but I did not want to spend hundreds of dollars today. Like the screen door that retracts instead of being in the door all the time. But that can be something I investigate later. For now it was just really fun hanging out and doing chores with Jess. I'm so glad that we're able to do that now. That was something we always really enjoyed when we both lived at home with our parents in bucks county. In the end just would end up spending $350 at the Costco. But we were having a blast and she even got to use cell check it at the end. And while she was doing that I went to go wash my hands because I touched something very dusty. And while I'm a dirty gremlin person half the time I don't really want to have dirty Dusty hands.

Are very last stop would be trader Joe's. Just as a lot of her grocery shopping there it turns out because while all grocery stores have gotten expensive and trader Joe's has always been kind of expensive. Trader Joe's is kind of evened out because of all the other grocery stores being expensive in and out are pretty cheap comparatively. And she got two bags of groceries for like $60. So pretty sweet. And it was busy in there but I was having a lot of fun and the staff was really nice. That cashier flirted with just too. Though she says that that is a requirement to work at trader Joe's. She says that being flirty is part of the drop description. I don't know if that's true. But it was very funny when she said it. And I got two very fancy cheeses. One is lemon ricotta which just says people say taste like cheesecake. And I got a sweet heat cheddar that I think James is really going to like. And I got green tea mints and chai tea mints. And I tried to try tea so far and the cardamom is really nice and I don't always like cardamom because I think it tastes like Christmas. But maybe a sweet cardamon would be nice for me.

While we were paying just was telling the cashier that I was just visiting for the day and he was like all excited that our friendship has been able to exist over all the different distances that we've lived apart from each other. And it's just so true. And friendship really is all about the effort that both people put in. And we both put a lot of effort into this friendship. And I think that's just really lovely. I love my friendship with Jess and I love Jess. She's such a wonderful person. And when we were done at trader Joe's she drove me back to my car.

After I moved all my stuff that I purchased back to my car and saw that my tulips were a little wilted We hugged and I promise to tell her when I get home. And that's almost now. It started to rain on my drive back but it wasn't bad. I listen to a podcast and about 25 minutes ago started working on this post. I already had the document pulled up because I knew I would like to do this and finish it before I get home. And I am 1 minute from home now. Tonight I am going to put all my stuff away and hang out with my husband and then tomorrow's Easter. And I don't really have any plans. I kind of want to paint eggs. But I think we only have brown ones. We'll see. I'm not that concerned. I think it will be a really nice day. I hope that you all have a great night and you are taking care of yourselves. Happy Easter everybody. Good night.

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invincible-selfxmade-punk · 11 months ago

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25 years ago at 9:00 a.m. I stepped outside the door of my crummy little apartment in Paradise Bay in my wedding gown.

There was no one to gossip with as I got ready, no one to help me do my hair or makeup. My friends were 8 hours away at home and could not come to the wedding on such short notice nor did we have money to help them to come. We had nothing and we won our wedding as part of a radio station promotion where we got married with 25 other couples.

The internet was not yet accessible. I had just graduated college and lost the only computer access I had, not being able to afford a computer on my own. Although my sister would end up buying me one. My first one as a matter of fact.

Whatever music I listen to getting ready that day was listen to on a CD boombox. However if Lana Del Rey had been around back then her music would have scored that morning perfectly.

I'd had my hair done at a stylist the day before and willed myself to sleep in one position and not move all night so to not mess it up.

Out of everything that day I remember that morning the best. It was so quiet and still. Walking through it, I felt absolutely beautiful.

I kept hoping someone would stick their head out, see me pass, and maybe say good luck. There are a few times in my life that I have felt beautiful but that was definitely one of them and I really wanted to be seen. To be witnessed. But I walked through the apartment complex completely unnoticed by anyone except my husband to be.

My sisters and aunt had made the trip across the state to watch me get married, piled in a borrowed Corvette with FEAR THIS stenciled across the headlights.

At the ceremony I was singled out to speak to reporter, probably because I had my septum pierced. And to this day I kick myself for not taking that opportunity to ask any perspective employers to give me a job because I had just graduated and really needed one. I don't even know if it ever aired. But for years afterwards I kicked myself for not taking the opportunity like any good gen xer to beg for employment.

The night before I had stayed up listening to Cowgirl in the Sand by Neil Young over and over again, listening for the line "old enough now to change your name . . ."

Was I old enough? Was I ready?

I took that leap of faith regardless, and here we are.

25 years is simultaneously a lifetime in yesterday.

#marriage #valentines day #25th wedding anniversary #25 years ago #1999 #SoundCloud

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thetreetzar · 1 year ago

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asks 1-49

(no pressure I just thought youd enjoy answeing all of them bc I certainly do, also im genuinely curious)

Thank you!

This is a lot, so I'll put it under a cut

1. I kind of get freckles in the summer

2. I like tea and coffee. I like milk and sugar in both, but really only like coffee if it has loads of sugar.

3. Talking in Your Sleep from the FNAF movie

4. Not sure how I sleep. I seem to wiggle around. Once managed to very nicely unbury a blanket and correctly position it in my sleep

5. I sometimes will have stuffies on my bed

6. I prefer drawing silly little doodles

7. 1-3 blankets. Need a weighted blanket and then I'll have a quilt/blanket or two if it is cold

8. Favorite bands/artist are The Longest Johns, Uamee, and Hozier

9. My birthday is July 19th

10. I am 5 feet tall

11. My eyes are blue/green/grey-ish but I just say blue on my ID

12. My mutuals (especially June), My in-person friends, and Tom Scott

13. Changes in routine, not being able to live on my own, the future, <hj>the kids at my school</hj>

14. I like blue

15. I love winter and snow and the cold (I overheat too easily for other seasons)

16. I would love to have tattoos. Maybe like a trans thing on my thigh and definitely some nonsensical little guys

17. I think piercings would be fun. I have kind of thought about angel bites/fangs, industrial/helix, eyebrow, and septum. (I would not turn down those spin for a free piercing things)

18. The last person I've texted is my dad

19. My best (and longest) friend is Momo. I've known them since September 2014.

20. I miss Toys R Us, ketchup chips, and some friends I've lost touch with

21. My day has been good. I am making progress in cleaning

22. I got maybe like 6 hours of sleep last night

23. Aliens probably exist somewhere in the universe

24. I don't remember when the last time I cried was, but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with my parents arguing and my brother and I being in the middle of it (my parents are restarting marriage counseling soon, don't worry)

25. I liked 2005-2010, it was nice being a little kid

26. Childish things I like include kids meals, the fun stuff made for babies, baby snacks like the puffs and Cheetos

27. I like too many books, but Louise Jenson is a great author, Because Internet was great, and I'm currently reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series

28. How am I? Absolutely terrified of graduating high school and being a Real Adult™️ 😀

29. Oh it can take forever for me to decide things. My strategy is that if it passes peer review and/or still seems like a good idea after a week or two than I should do it

30. I am looking forward to duck club on thursdays

31. I can't wait to get top surgery! (Hope to get it before 26 so I can still be on my parent's insurance)

32. If I could go anywhere, I'd go to Toys R Us/Canada and to visit my friends and mutuals

33. I sleep with the door closed because my cat Loki is not to be trusted

34. I like roses (trans flower) and sunflowers (tasty seeds)

35. I derive great serotonin from my mutuals <3

36. I like my middle name, now that I've chosen it myself

37. I love all animals

38. I don't think I have any proper phobias, just a lot of anxiety

39. It is easy for me to stay up late, however I can no longer be fine staying up late and getting up early the next day

40. I haven't really been to the beach. I prefer partly cloudy, like sunny but not hot or too warm

41. My favorite cartoon is Natural Habitat Shorts

42. Five of my favorite blogs are @one-time-i-dreamt @alltimemathhater @70snasagay @hrkrkrwpfrbrbrlablblblblwhitooap @shiftythrifting (sorry if being tagged in this annoyed anyone)

43. I have a younger brother

44. Probably my friends and mutuals are the last people I've said "I love you" to

45. I'd die for my pets, friends, and mutuals

46. I need a weighted blanket and probably also a snack when I'm sad

47. I have both my cell and landline numbers memorized

48. I feel I could trust my friends Momo and Vennie with my life

49. The last text I sent is asking where my dad parked

Thank you for the ask, and for reading this far if you have

#<3 #asks

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jodilin65 · 1 month ago

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The liver test seems to have disappeared altogether, but my thyroid antibodies are at 135 when they should be under 9. So, the attack is still going on. I'll have to ask Rhonda if this would stop with a thyroidectomy.

Anyway, it's not a very happy 59th birthday at all so far. I'm not quite as breathless, likely caused by the medication. This is the second time I've had lung tightness, cut back on the meds, and found it helped my lungs. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is why now? Yes, it is a side effect, and I've had it before, but why so many years since I've experienced it? Right now, this is the only thing I can think of because it’s out of character for me to be anxious this way, but I suppose anything is possible.

A part of me resents Tom because he's the only reason I keep going, and I feel like him not wanting me to die is basically asking me to suffer, because I truly believe there’s no coming back from this. I lost my health a decade ago, and I'm just not getting it back. I'd love to think a little nose tweaking and CPAP adjustment would help me tremendously, but even if it did, am I really to believe there wouldn't be something else to replace it?

I see Rhonda in 5 days, and I worry she won’t be able to help much, especially with our hands tied until the 1st. I'd feel a whole lot better if I knew this could be resolved within a week or so, but you're talking months! I slept shitty as fuck again last night, suffocating awake because of my nose, and I don’t see how I’m going to live with this for so many more months. I stopped the nasal sprays a couple of months ago yet it’s definitely getting worse, which makes me believe even more that it could be a valve or septum issue. It just doesn’t seem right for allergies, but if it is, we definitely need to get out of here since no allergy medicine seems to help.

Sometimes I wonder if something else could be going on that we don’t know about, which wouldn't surprise me, of course. I just wonder how many more months… or years… I’ll have to suffer.

Lately, I have times when even the breathing strips and the dilator combined don’t help. One of the times I woke up and went crying to Tom, who gave me a foot and back massage to help calm me, my fucking nose was nearly completely blocked. Oddly enough, though, when I woke up, my nose was almost crystal clear. I just wish I could get myself to breathe through my mouth, but it's not easy when your tongue flops up against the roof of your mouth.

Other than Tom, it will be interesting to see who remembers and cares enough to wish me a happy birthday. Bet I can guess… Irene for sure and maybe Mitch, Toni, and Irma.

It's been so cold here that the honker has had his lanai windows closed. There's even a frost warning in effect this morning. Hope the lemon tree will be okay! There’s clover growing at the base of it so hopefully that will keep some moisture in the soil.

Either way, I just want my health and energy back! I'm so tired of being exhausted all the time! I just want to be happy, and healthy, and have the basic things in life like sleep and energy. I can't help but wonder if I'm actively being cursed by any possible God or something else. And if so, why? Am I really that bad? Aly asked the same thing before she died. Yes, I've done some shitty things in life, and I have lived to regret them, but punishing me isn’t going to undo the things I've done wrong in life. Seriously, if my nose was suddenly fixed and I didn’t have sleep apnea because that either disappeared or was being taken care of, would there be something else to mess with my sleep? I swear, it's like something doesn’t want me to get the sleep I need most of the time. I've had sleep issues all my life, but this last decade has been really bad. I just wonder how many years before it really catches up to me and gives me a stroke, heart attack, or kills me.

Desperate, I remembered the Witchcraft kit sitting on the closet shelf, and with AI's guidance, I put together a spell and an intention to see if it would help. I asked AI what the best herbs and gemstones were for a sleep spell, and it gave me a list. I gathered everything I had in stock, and it said what I had was fine. I have amethyst, fluorite, clear quartz, and rose quartz.

It gave me a list of herbs, and again, I told it what I had. It told me how much of each one to place in the bowl I have the gems and herbs in (a pinch, a teaspoon, a tablespoon). So I have lavender, jasmine, chamomile, red rose petals, and a pinch of rosemary, mugwort, and yarrow.

It was great because I learned a lot more from AI than I could from the little booklet it came with, and it saved me time so I didn't have to comb through a ton of websites. I was even able to ask if the fan I had along with the air cleaner would affect it, what the best placement for the bowl would be, how often to recharge it, etc. I smudged the mixture with sage.

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thegaythespian · 4 months ago

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okay gang, starting a new job tomorrow which I really don’t want to do, but some Shit went down at the old job place so I’m no longer working there. All this to say: I am posting my earring line up cause I love earrings so much and it’s going to be stupidly long for actually saying very little

Anyway so I have 2 live piercings on each ear, and for many years I have worn two studs of varying sizes in each ear, I got a big set on Amazon for like ten bucks many years ago so they’re like fake diamond or something idk. Basically been wearing those for a long time, a bigger set and a smaller one, occasionally having to change the sizes as I lost earrings. Well recently I lost one of the larger ones after my cat went on my night table, where the earrings go when I’m washing my hair and I forget to put them back in afterwards, and one of the larger ones is lost. It’s been a while since I lost one of these so I finally realize that I don’t have any pairs to change them out with; these are the last two pairs of the set. So the past week or two I’ve been raw dogging it with the smaller pair and one of my fun earring sets, like moths or tiny pink flowers (which match my hair and look professional). Yesterday I happened to go to target with some friends and they were selling hoop earring sets for like 8 bucks, and I said fuck it and got them because I need a neutral base for my earrings. I’d already been considering getting hoops, and though the style isn’t quite what I’m looking for, they’ll work. The thing came with 3 different sizes, and at first I had the two smallest sizes in, but I’ve realized I like the look of the largest and smallest ones better, even if the larger ones are a bit more noticeable than I’d prefer. So I am now a hoops person, I guess, and I’m trying to embrace this life change. I don’t really like my fun earrings with the hoops tho, the small hoops are still a bit too big, so when I wear any of my actual earrings I enjoy I will put the small studs back in. In my tragus I previously had a hoop which I adore, but I felt it was too many hoops so I put my star back in and I’m happy with it. I want to get my other tragus pierced or my daith pierced now. I want the other tragus to offset the symmetry of having two tragus piercings by having the hoop in one and a stud in the other. My septum piercing is still the original jewelry bc I haven’t gone back to get it taken out, but I am very excited to put a green spikes horseshoe in there. This was very long winded and pointless but I’m happy with the line up so I needed to share and now I must sleep bc job AGH

#thespian ramblings

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fuckingdrawbacks · 1 year ago

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i still feel shitty and it pains me that i cant tell u that.

i remember winter when we still had our honeymoon phase. we walked around, holding hands, cuddling, eating those curly fries and falling asleep together. i remember walking on that winter fair the first time we went there together. it felt magical and after those two years, i still fucking wish we could go there together again. i wish we could drive in your parents car to your city, ticking each other every now and then, holding hands and resting our heads on each other's shoulders.

i remember when you got your septum piercing. you sent me to your apartment to hide those piercings and to prepare for your parents to come. i think it was early November, because i had that spooky seasonal starbucks drink. i couldn't get into your apartment because we hid the key inside the building, but i couldn't get into it. i wanted to pick the lock, but every now and then someone would walk somewhere. ultimately someone was going in and i went behind him. it's a stupid memory but i remember it so vividly. i remember the spark in your eyes when we were sitting in your room.

i remember waking up on those early winter mornings, all cold because of your fixation with opening the windows. i was really fucking cold, because you always took all of the blankets over to your side, and i wanted you to be cozy. i felt cold on my skin, but inside i was all warm, because i was laying by your side and i was so fucking happy. i wish we could go back in time, so that i still could fall asleep next to you.

i remember your sleeping face when i woke up before you. it's so clear. i don't even remember how you look now, but i perfectly recall every single detail about how you looked on those mornings. i remember your stripy shorts and your (occasionally blank) white tee. i remember you looking for your frog plushie when it fell from the bed. i always helped you look for it and i found it first pretty often. i wonder if you also have those memories. i really hope that they are not painful to you.

i wonder what you think of me; i wonder if you still love me at least a little bit.

i still hope that one day we will get together again. i don't know if i love you for who you are right now, i don't even think that i really know you right now. but i'm 1000000% sure i still love the person you were when we first met. i know that you're not that person anymore, but even if there's still a part of her in you, i still love you to death.

i wish you could read those messages, i wish they could change anything, i wish you wouldn't tell me that i should talk to someone. i wish i could talk to you instead. i wish i could hold your hand, i wish i could wake up and see your sleeping face again.

my mind has been racing a lot lately. i had troubles sleeping for a while now, but i don't think they were so severe as they are right now. the last time i fell asleep quickly and didn't feel tired when i woke up was back in your apartment. i think every single time we slept together i fell asleep quickly. i think i felt safe; my mind wasn't racing, my heart wasn't beating so hard that i could literally hear it. i've been having problems with that too. i try to fall asleep, and after a while my heart starts beating so fast that i feel like im about to faint. maybe i should get it checked out, but honestly, i don't want to live if i can't be by your side.

i don't want to be that guy; i don't want to sound like an asshole, but i feel like there's no one that will love you as much as i do. i hope that it's not true; i hope that you will find love and that you will feel loved and appreciated and that you will actually feel good. i just wish so fucking much that it could be me.

i cried so much when i came back home after that night. i lost you and all that was keeping me alive was my dog. now that she's gone too, i've been feeling nothing. i've been feeling empty, without any point in life. i feel like it's not real, that i will wake up any moment; that i will walk downstairs and that she will be there, sleeping where she always were.

i find myself breaking down more and more lately. maybe it's for the better, because after some crying i'm able to fall asleep. the only thought that puts me at ease is you. it's so fucked up that after all that time i'm still breaking down and i'm unable to calm down without thinking of you. and you don't know about it, you just play some games with him, and you spend your days without even thinking about me once. maybe it's not true and i don't want to blame you - i'm not - but it feels weird to me that i'm still addicted to you and that you don't give a shit about me. i mean, not that i'm telling you about this, so why would you. i'll be fine eventually. i really hope so.

i remember your face when you facetimed me that one time you didn't want to come home. i remember how much tears you shed; i remember how your skin was shining because of those tears. i felt so scared. you were living in a dangerous place and it was pitch black outside. i remember how my voice was breaking when i asked my dad if he could drive me over to you. i remember how scared i was when driving to you. and i remember how broken i felt when i came to your room and you didn't even look at me. i didn't expect you to come into my arms; i didn't do it for me to feel better. i just wanted to see that you were okay and i was scared that you would do something to yourself. i always cared about you so so so much, i still do. i still occasionally get thoughts that you did something to yourself, that maybe something has hit you, that maybe you fell over. i don't fucking know, i just hate not knowing if you're okay. i never cared about a human being as much as i cared about you. i don't care about a human being as much as i STILL TO THIS DAY care about you. even after all of this, you're still my everything. i love you so fucking much and i miss you so much, i can't even articulate how much i miss you. i prayed to every god i know; i even bought stupid fiverr manifestations for us to come together; i beg every power that there may be for me to wake up in the morning back in 2021. everything reminds me of you - i went outside one day to feed that cat that comes to us and i felt like when i was coming to your apartment from the bus stop. just because it was an afternoon during fall. i still fucking feel like that every time i go out. i need to focus so much to not just burst into tears every time i go outside during fall/winter. just because i remember when we used to go out when there were fallen leaves everywhere. and i miss it so much.

i still didn't remove a single picture with you. they're all there, just in the hidden section, so that i don't stumble upon them by accident. i don't want to remove them in case we get together. i don't want to lose those memories. i don't want to lose reminiscence of the last time i felt happy. and i'm not joking - i don't remember a single time i felt actually good and happy since that night when i went out to look for you. i've been feeling empty ever since. like there was a part of me locked(?), like i left something with you.

i remember when we used to go shopping; i remember listening to music with one airpod each; i remember when you put that plunger on your head, i remember walking in those funny shops looking for stuff that could be funny. i wish i put that stupid necklace on, i wish i made one for you as well. i hate myself for not doing things like that in the moment. i fucking hate myself for that so much. every time i think of it i want to kill myself right on the spot. i wish there was anything that would fix what i did or didn't do in the moment. i feel so terrible having to live with those memories. i tried to get over them; i tried to forget them, i tried to hate you, i tried to just like you. nothing helped, nothing made me stop loving you and nothing made me feel better. you told me countless times that you don't remember half of the stuff i've been reliving every, single, night. i've tried to re-associate words we used or music we listened to. nothing worked. everything still reminds me of you. you changed me so much. you made me feel loved. you made me feel what love is and what actually caring about someone is. and i don't think i will ever get over you; that i will ever love someone as much as i loved you. and that i will ever feel as loved as much as you did.

sometimes i wish my parents hated me; i wish i ran away or something. i wish i could disappear or just kill myself without hurting others. i already lost my dog, and i feel so empty without her. there were many times when i almost killed myself and every time i didn't do it, it was because i got scared of how she would feel when i disappeared; how she wouldn't know what happened to me and how she would wait for me to come back. i feel scared of what will happen when i feel the urge to kill myself.

i don't think i will ever learn to live with just memories of you. i wish we could go to that winter fair and eat sushi at your parents house again.

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ravensim · 3 years ago

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I've been so tired after losing my cat 😩 Feels like all I do is sleep. I lost my other cat a year ago and had them both for over 15 years so the house is weirdly empty. In other news, I finished the septum rings. There are 5 in total! I only have to take some pictures so they should be ready tomorrow! ♥ Have a good day/night!

#tw death #non sims

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missamyrisa2 · 2 years ago

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Do you have any halloween-themed tickles to get into the spooky season?

Ohh of course. Here's one off the top of my head that I was thinking about this morning~ They called it Drunk Sleep Beach, a place people would drink away their sorrows and fall into the deepest of rests. The sand was extra soft, the sound of the nearby power plant gave the air a thick humming tingle drowning out all noise pollution, and the long disused road leading to the beach ensured few other visitors. The slice of paradise at the outskirts of the city turned dark when an entire commune of people vanished overnight, followed by scattered instances of visitors taking the Drunk Beach challenge and never being heard from again.

The friends always recall hearing a faint giggle when they returned to collect their challenger. But none of that phased Angelica, a tiny petite woman with a shock of neon blonde hair and screaming vocals in a local band that could tear the heavens. Her thrill seeking knew no boundaries, and once she learned of Drunk Sleep Beach, the arrangements were quickly made. The challenge was to lay flat on one's back near the surf, barefoot, where the water is just barely grazing one's soles ~ and perhaps, their soul. Angelica waved away her bandmates.

The adrenaline was already flowing. The night went from starlit to starless as she stared into the black void. She sighed, pressing her bare feet into the moist sand below. As she made to rise up, Angelica heard a sickening crash of a wet impact as she felt her legs suddenly grow cold & immobile. A blur of shadows shambled in front of her, and another impact as she was pinned back to the ground when an immeasurable heap of wet sand was piled onto her midsection and chest.

She frantically tried to scoop at the pile holding her body down, and lost all her iron will when two faces pierced the shadows ~ ancient and water logged, their features drooping and swollen. But through their distorted visages there was no mistaking a knowing grin. With gurgling sniffles they piled more sand on her arms.

One hovered close, studying her expression as the other vanished. Angelica became aware that her feet, those tiny toes with the little silver skull toe ring and black sparkle painted nails were exposed under the mountain of sand. That revelation of sensation came at the same time as a soggy digit slid up her dainty sole. She growled in protest.

The other sole was tested next. She kicked with all her might, but the weight of the sand could not be disturbed. The drowned evil face near her quickly fearful expression was waiting, watching intently. Frigid undead digits explored under Angelica's toes, the friction between them and the sand driving her batty. She didn't want to make sound, she tried to shut it out. She bit her lower lip as hard as she could, shook her head back and forth. And then, something else. A softer implement, slimy and slithering was over her big toe.

She lost control. Snickers tumbled out of her lips first, then giggles, and soon belly laughs. It was a sound she fought her whole life to keep shackled - an incredibly girly, fairy-like expression working a hard contrast to her gruff platitudes. Satisfied, the ghoul at her face opened a mouth and seemed to capture the sounds, devouring every laugh Angelica made. An intoxicating aroma wafted into her nose ~ sweet, but rotten and yet irresistible. Her sinuses tingled, and she started begging to make it stop. The tickly sensation was twisting into her head.

The sounds of the power plant hummed at her ears, like an army of cotton balls rolling through them. With a renewed vigor of head shaking, Angelica's septum piercing comically detached and flew into the air. The tickles at her two exposed zones, head and feet, were invading upon every sensitive nerve.

Vile water zombie fingers skittered up her insteps as those icy lips and tongue probed under each toe methodically. The dilapidated body at her head leaned in further brushing its blueberry dead lips over her cheeks, across her black lips, and down her neck. Angelica was begging now, losing all composure. Her trademark gutteral scream became a wispy cry of giggles.

And the waves kept rolling closer and closer over her feet and into the mound of sand.

Morning walkers appeared on the beach as an uncaring sun rose over the crystalline waters. One of them heard a faint girlish giggle. On the ground, a tiny bit of metal sparkled near a huge pile of disturbed sand. It looked like some drunks had a real good time the night before.

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vintagedolan · 4 years ago

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mixtape | track twelve

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Indy wondered why people in her life seemed to fixate on sunshine, as if it somehow fixed things. When she and Charlie were small and the sun was out, her parents were ushering them outside to get some fresh air, telling them it was good for them. Her first day of high school, when she was nauseous in the passenger seat at the thought of a new place with a new class schedule, her dad had said ‘at least it’s warm today’. The day of Nicole’s funeral, between the sympathetic smiles and awkward glances, Indy had lost count of the amount of people who commented on the beautiful sunshine outside that her mother wasn’t there to see. It grated on Indiana’s nerves, and she found herself enjoying the rainy days more in the years after her mother’s death, when the clouds were heavy and wet, booming with thunder she could feel shaking her floor. She sat at her windows and watched it fall, watched the world have to shift to accommodate a change in the sky, change in a way that it never did for her when she needed it to.

The week before Bekah died, it rained every day.

Monday marked seven days without treatment, and the effects were starting to show. Bekah had lost more weight, which Indy wasn’t even sure was possible. She kept her blankets on her at all times, the Christmas and Halloween ones layers on top of each other.

She still shivered.

The rain fell outside the window, and Indy sat on the sill, thankful for the cold glass against her arm. It kept her in the moment, kept her mind in the room instead of in Los Angeles, wondering what was going through Grayson’s head that made him continue to ignore her calls. She didn’t have the energy to be pissed at him for leaving her abandoned - instead she was just worried, worried about the guilt she knew would overtake him when she finally was able to get ahold of him.

Indiana’s schedule was PRN - meaning they only called her into the hospital when she was needed. She couldn’t tell if they actually did need her and were too nice to say, or if they were fully staffed, but they didn’t call her. Patrick had put his foot down with her hours at Jet’s too, and said he’d keep her on payroll as long as he could so she kept her benefits, but that he wasn’t putting her on the schedule either.

So she put her skills to use for Bekah, and Bekah alone. Anything she needed, Indy knew where to get it on the floor. She funneled every ounce of energy into the girl in front of her, trying to take any of the burden off the Newcombs that she could. If Bekah needed ice chips, she was at the nurses station. In the supply closet to get fresh linens, the laundry to get clean hospital gowns. She helped her get changed, get showered as best she could - it was less mortifying for Bekah to have Indiana help her than her parents, who were nervous enough they would hurt her as it was.

When Bekah was awake, she was trying. Putting on her brightest smile, doing her best to perk up for her parents and Indiana. But when her parents would leave, which wasn’t often - only to go get fresh clothes, or grab dinner in the cafe - Bekah would deflate. She’d sigh and lean back against her pillows and try to catch her breath. They went home that night to eat a real dinner with promises to bring some back for Bekah, and as soon as they kissed her goodbye, she relaxed back and closed her eyes. Indiana watched her for a moment, and reached out to hold her hand.

“It’s okay Beks. They know you’re tired, you’re allowed to show it.”

“Says you,” she muttered. “Haven’t seen you sleep since I went off meds.”

Indy swallowed. “I sleep when you sleep.”

“Liar.”

“How do you feel?” She changed the subject.

“Like I’m dying.”

Indy choked, and Bekah laughed dryly. “C’mon, that was a good one. And don’t say it isn’t, cause you know I’m right.”

It took all of Indy’s strength not to try to coat it all in some toxic positivity, tell her it wasn’t that bad, that she would feel better, that she would get better - the things she’d been telling her all the years she’d known her.

They weren’t true, and she had to be okay with that.

“I really do think it’ll be this week,” Bekah said, picking at balls of lint on her blanket.

“Why do you think that?” Indy kept her tone as neutral as she could.

“I feel it. Feels… different. I want to go in my sleep, if I can. Think it’ll be easier for everyone that way. Is there a way to make that happen?”

Indy put on her hospital smile. “That’s usually how it goes babe, when you let someone go naturally. Your body gets tired, and you sleep, and then you go.”

She pondered on that for a moment, sat with it, and then she nodded, firm and confident.

“Okay. Good. That’ll be good.”

Indy hoped that one day she could have half the bravery of the girl sitting in front of her, with her thin arms and her purple head scarf, her small smile and stern gaze.

“Can we have milkshakes? And watch some of Grayson’s videos before my parents get back?”

Indy swallowed. “Of course. I’ll go get them, you rest.”

She was glad she could pull strings - the kitchen was usually closed to requests after dinner, but Daniel downstairs was always nice when she called. Sure enough, by the time she’d swiped through all the doors and made it to the kitchen, he had two vanilla milkshakes with extra whipped cream, and sprinkles on Bekah’s.

“Thanks D!”

“You’re welcome other D,” Daniel smiled. The hole in Indy’s chest rubbed raw, and she turned quickly before he could think he did something wrong. She breathed, timed her inhales with her steps as she traversed the halls.

It didn’t help, because when she walked into Bekah’s room she heard him.

Only this time, we’re getting sinus surgery

“Ooo, sprinkles!” Beks smiled and reached out a hand, waiting for Indy to pass her the milkshake.

She did, and she settled next to her on the bed with her own, leaning just far enough back so that Bekah couldn’t see her face.

The videos were always harder. He was still all over her social media, pictures and screenshots and people tagging the two of them on tea pages. He was still in her phone too - the outgoing calls, the photos in her camera roll. But the videos were the worst, because it was him. His mannerisms, his eyebrows that curved when he talked, his tongue that peeked through his smile when he laughed just hard enough.

She watched anyways, let the ache fester and make her feel something. She stared at his sunburnt nose, and listened to him talk about his once deviated septum that they didn’t actually fix - he still snored loud enough to wake her up some nights. She missed it.

Bekah laughed at every funny comment the boys made under their anesthesia in the video, and it was music to Indy’s ears, heartwarming enough for her to be able to stomach watching. By 15 minutes in, Bekah had abandoned her milkshake, the whipped cream dissolving down into the ice cream as her head lulled onto Indy’s shoulder and she fell asleep.

With a shaky hand, Indy checked her pulse.

Slow, but steady.

She turned off the TV.

In California, the fight didn’t start until Tuesday night. The house had been full of tension for almost a week, and the usual LA sunshine didn’t help to lighten the mood.

Grayson had become a recluse. He’d fallen back on the earlier method of locking his phone in a box in an attempt to save his sanity, which was even more fragile from the doom scrolling he’d found himself doing as people speculated every single detail of his life online. The black metal cube sat on a table in the living room, and he only saw it on the few occasions that he ventured out to the kitchen for food.

Even in his limited excursions, he felt the awkward energy radiating from his twin and Eden. They’d had their spats in the past, just like any couple, but there was something different about this one that had Grayson glad he was out of the room when Eden finally cleared her throat and looked at her boyfriend.

“Are we gonna talk about this?”

Ethan picked at a scab on his forearm - he’d been longboarding again as an excuse to get out of the house.

“Talk about what?”

“Talk about why we aren’t talking,” she huffed. “You’re mad at me.”

“Correct,” Ethan said.

“Tell me why then.”

He looked at her incredulously. “You have to ask?”

Eden swallowed down her anger, knowing it wouldn’t help anything. She waited. They sat in stalemate for a moment and she watched it boil up in Ethan before he sighed and turned in his chair towards her.

“Being hateful to me when you’re upset is one thing, because I signed up for that. But to my brother? When he’s doing pretty much as bad as I’ve ever seen him? Not okay. At all.”

“Ethan-”

“And I’m all for the tough love approach or whatever, but that was fucked up. He was just starting to do a little bit better and now look at him.”

“Better? You thought that was better?”

“He was eating at least, and still trying to work a little bit. Now, he’s barely able to do the podcast, much less anything else.”

“You all were already going to cut the main channel, that’s not because of this,” she argued.

“I’m talking everything else Eden. The businesses. Figuring out what the fuck we’re gonna do. He said the other day we could split time between here and Jersey, which really means here and New York if we only do the podcast.”

“And he didn’t think of that as an option before he broke up with Indiana? Makes sense.”

Ethan ignored her and kept going.

“At least he’s thinking about the future, which is better than before. I need him. But I need him, and you yelling at him set him back to square one.”

“If you thought he was even close to out of square one you’re blind.”

“Don’t act like you know my fucking twin better than I do,” Ethan snapped, and if it wasn’t for the protective nature in his tone, Eden would have lost it.

“Ethan.” She waited until he looked up at her, and she saw some of the anger leave his eyes when they met her. “He wasn’t getting better, because he was holding on. Fuck, he still is!”

“Telling him to let go isn’t going to make him let go! Have you met him? He’s the most stubborn fucking person on the face of this fucking earth! He already wants to go back, he’s not gonna let go!”

She could think of one person that could rival him for the title, but she kept it to herself.

“He’ll do it if he thinks he’s doing it for her,” Eden explained. “Don’t you see that? That’s why he did all of this. In his head, somehow, he thinks he’s doing what’s best for Indy. But he fucked her over, royally.”

“He knows that,” Ethan said.

“Okay, great! But he has to let go of her, because she won’t. Indy is an optimist if I’ve ever fucking met one, and she will always hope that he’s gonna come back, so he can’t do anything to feed into it. That’s torture, for both of them. And they both deserve better than that.”

Ethan couldn’t find a grip hold for an argument - one of the many reasons he hated arguing with Eden. So he sat in silence for a moment and accepted his defeat.

“You didn’t have to call him a moron,” he added.

“Anyone who let’s Indiana Cross slip through their fingers is a moron,” she muttered, shoulders relaxing as she realized the fight was over. “But yeah, that was probably a little harsh. I’ll apologize for that one.” She sighed, glad that everything was out on the table for the time being, smiling when Ethan patted his thigh once for her to sit on. She climbed up and nuzzled into his neck - she’d missed being so close to him the last few days. She soaked in the moment, running her fingers over the neck of his henley.

“Is it weird that I miss her? I mean, I know I haven’t known her very long, but she really felt like part of the family.”

“I miss her too,” Ethan sighed, pressing a kiss to Eden’s temple.

She pondered her apology to Grayson as she relaxed into his arms, but it was futile.

Grayson had been listening, standing in the hallway outside his door.

There were no tears; just an overwhelming numbness that had settled over him in the last few days. Eden’s words were the final nail in the coffin - he couldn’t reach out to Indy, though it got more and more tempting each day. He’d promised not to hurt her more than he already had, and he was going to stick to his word. Someone important had taught him that.

He retreated to his room and sat on the edge of the bed before he spoke.

“Hey dad.”

He always waited, just for a moment. Just in case. The silence was always loud, but it was deafening as he curled in on himself, staring down at the grains of wood in the floor.

“Dad I think I really fucked up this time,” he whispered. He willed the tears, but they didn’t come, though his eyes still burned. “I wish you were here. I wish you could have met her.”

As he sat, he remembered what his dad had said in those last few days, in the few hours that he was awake, when he fought off the pain and the fatigue to be there for his kids and his wife. I’ll always be there, you can always talk to me. Just say whatever you would if I was right there beside you, cause I will be.

So he did. He spoke as if he could feel the weight of his dad on the bed beside him, feel his arm around his shoulder.

Grayson sat on the edge of his bed and told Sean everything about the girl that he still loved. Her intelligence, her laugh, her smile, the way he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to love someone else. He lost track of how long he talked, run on sentences and gestures that only made it more obvious that his dad wasn’t there to tell him to slow down and take a breath before he talked himself into a pump from his inhaler. When he ran out of words, he did the only thing he knew to do when all else went wrong; turned his shower on as hot as he could stand it, sat down on the bench so the water ran over him, and thought of Indy.

The storm rolled into the city on Wednesday - unprecedented and angry, snarling the clouds in swirls of dark, heavy gray and dumping down over the skyscrapers of New York.

Indiana was watching the monitors. Her eyes jumped with each pulse of Bekah’s heart, which was beating faster than her usual. Her blood pressure was low, her breathing more irregular. Indy could see the textbook page in her head - actively dying. She��d learned the vital signs to look for, and how to fix them, what medicines to push.

But she wasn’t supposed to be making Bekah better, and that was the hardest part.

Thunder shook the room, and Bekah shivered. Mrs. Newcomb wrung her hands, and her husband ran a hand along her shoulders.

“She hasn’t woken up all day,” she murmured.

“She’s resting baby, it’s okay.”

Bekah’s monitors began to beep a bit faster. Her heart rate slowly rose - 82, then 85, then 90. Indy watched, her nerves prickling, eyes darting to the clipboard at the end of her bed, with DNR in bright red block letters - do not resuscitate. Bekah whimpered, her head turning into her pillow as her breathing got quicker, her heart working in overtime to try to keep her body afloat.

Mrs. Newcomb rushed to her daughter’s side, running a hand over her cheek as she began to cry.

“Bekah, sweetheart breathe, just breathe baby, don’t go yet, don’t go,” she pleaded, and Indy bit back her cries. Two nurses showed up in the doorway, waiting. There was nothing they could do but watch, and answer questions if they were asked.

Bekah’s father turned to the corner.

“Indiana, Indiana what’s happening to my baby?” He cried. It was enough to break Indy out of her trance, and she moved over to the bedside, resting a hand on Bekah’s leg.

“Her body is trying to decide what to do. It’s tired, and with her blood pressure going down, her heart is work harder to move her blood around. That’s why it’s faster,” she explained. “She’s not in pain right now, her medicine should still be working. It probably just feels a bit scary.”

Mr. Newcomb took her hand, and squeezed. Indy looked back to the monitors, unable to bear looking down at Bekah. She watched the blips on the monitor start to regulate again, sinus rhythm reappearing, allowing both of them to breathe easier. Bekah groaned a bit and settled into her covers, and a broken sob made its way out of Mrs. Newcomb’s throat.

“I need a minute,” she said, and then she was headed for the door with a hand over her mouth. It was the second time she was sick that day. Mr. Newcomb took her to the cafeteria to get a Sprite, and Indy took her usual spot, perched on the edge of Bekah’s bed. She took her hand, tensing a bit with how cold it was. She rubbed it, bringing it up to her lips to blow warmth into her palm as best she could.

Bekah stirred, and her eyes opened for the first time in many hours.

“Hey,” Indy said quietly, not wanting to startle her.

“What was all that noise?” Bekah’s voice was croaky, but she shook her head when Indy offered her a drink of water.

“Your monitors. They’re loud aren’t they?”

“Yeah. Annoying as hell,” she mumbled, then opened her eyes a bit wider, scanning the room for her mother.

“Language,” Indy teased.

“Why were they going off?”

It took all of Indy’s strength not to lie.

“Your heart rate picked up because your blood pressure went down. That’s something that happens…”

“Oh. It means it’s getting close isn’t it.”

Indy nodded and squeezed her hand. Bekah took a moment to process, and then she turned her head back to her friend.

“Is Grayson here yet?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Well, he better come soon if he wants to see me. Tell him to hurry, since I’m dying and shit.”

“Language,” Indy whispered it so her voice didn’t crack. Bekah played with the edge of her blanket.

“Am I supposed to be scared?”

“There’s no right or wrong way to be right now Beks. You just do what you need and feel how you feel, and we’ll be here the whole time, okay? We’re right here.”

“You need to not be here,” Bekah said, and Indy’s breath caught in her throat.

“Oh.”

“You need sleep, and a shower. I won’t die while you’re gone if I can help it. Promise.” She wrapped her pinky around Indy’s as best she could.

Before she could refuse, the Newcombs appeared back through the door, delighted to see their daughter awake. She sat up a bit straighter in bed and put on her best smile, Indy’s heart tightening at the sight.

“Go,” Bekah whispered through her smile. She squeezed her hand one more time, and then let go, walking up to Mrs. Newcomb.

“I’m gonna go get freshened up and grab some clean clothes, but will you text me if anything changes? I live right down the street, so I can be back here really quick,” she explained, trying to ignore the growing look of pity in her eyes.

“Of course dear. But you go home for the night, we’ll be alright. I’ll call you if anything changes, you need your rest. You’ve been here so long, have a night of normalcy at home and come back fresh tomorrow, okay?”

Indy nodded - it was all she could do. She blew Bekah a kiss and walked out the door, pausing when she noticed something had changed.

A small blue heart had been placed by her room number - a signal that made Indy’s heart sink. Bekah was officially dying, and it was there for every nurse and visitor on the unit to see, to signify they needed to respect privacy and be quiet when they were close by.

It made no sense, for that to be her breaking point. She’d known. She’d seen it, in her vitals and her demeanor and the fact that just their conversation was enough to have her ready to sleep for another 8 hours.

But that little blue heart was her undoing, and she clutched her chest for the entire walk out of the hospital, down the stairs and out into the pouring rain. The thought of her empty apartment, with no Grayson and no Charlie and no Devin was too much - instead, she found herself running down the sidewalk past the lobby to the parking garage, shoes sloshing with water by the time she made it under the concrete.

The valet didn’t ask questions when she passed over her key, shivering as she waited for him to bring her car out. As soon as she climbed in she hit the gas, ready to drive somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t her home. The road was blurry despite the rapid back and forth of her windshield wipers, but she trudged on, just coherent enough to keep her tires between the white lines as she fled the city. The river was swollen when she drove over the bridge into Jersey, and she let herself zone out, let her mind take her wherever it wanted to go.

She knew where she would end up.

The crunch of gravel was familiar under her tires when she turned off the winding road. It was a comforting sound, though it was muffled by the rain, and it wasn’t until she was close enough to the white house to see that the kitchen light was on that she realized what she was doing.

She put the car in park, ready to shift it to reverse until a small figure appeared on the front porch, waving her inside.

Her earlier words rang in her ears. My door is always open.

She hoped it was true as she flung her car door open and bolted for the protection of the porch.

Lisa was waiting for her, standing in her pajamas with worry written all over her face.

“Indiana? Sweetheart, are you okay?”

All Indy could do was sob. She hated it, and the voice in her head berated her over and over, reminded her she had no place there anymore, that she was putting Lisa in a terrible position. But the feeling of a mother’s arms around her wasn’t something she could fight against, and she crumpled into her and let herself be held.

“Shhh. Shhh, you’re okay,” she hummed, running a hand over Indy’s blonde hair that was soaking wet. “Let’s get you inside and get warmed up.”

Indy let herself be led in, shoulders relaxing a bit at the familiarity of where she was until she spotted Grayson’s work boots in the corner and recoiled back. Lisa sat her down in a chair in the kitchen and squatted down until they were eye level.

“Are you hurt?”

Indy shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Is everything okay?” Her tone gave away that she already knew the answer, but Indy shook her head again anyways. Lisa patted her leg and sighed quietly, reaching up to brush some of her hair back.

“Does Grayson know you’re here?”

The squeak that escaped Indy’s lips was the only warning before she let out a sob so loud that Gizmo yelled in shock.

“I’m s-s-s-orry,” she choked, crumpling with her face in her hands.

“No, no no shhh, it’s okay sweetheart. It’s alright, you’re okay.” Lisa pulled her to her as best she could, rocking just barely as she held her.

“No, I shouldn’t have come, I don’t want to make things difficult for you with - him.” Indy couldn’t get herself to say his name and Lisa just shook her head.

“Babe I told you that I would be here for you no matter what, and I meant it, okay? I won’t tell him you’re here unless I need to. You can stay as long as you need, you hear me?” She used her thumbs to wipe at Indy’s tears, frowning at the dark circles she found.

“Sweetheart, when was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

Indy’s silence was enough.

“Well, it’s late, and I think sleep is the first thing you need. We can talk tomorrow, but right now, you go up and climb into bed okay? They’re all made up, you can sleep wherever you’d like. Do you need anything, or do you remember where everything is.”

“I remember,” Indy whispered, taking in a shaky breath. “Thank you Li.”

“Of course. You’re a part of this family, always. Now, get some rest. You know where I am if you need me.”

She kissed her forehead and disappeared up the stairs. Indy wasn’t sure how long it took to get herself together and muster the energy to climb those same stairs, take a left into the room she’d been in so many times before.

It still smelled a bit like him, and she couldn’t help but to take a few deep breaths, closing her eyes and pretending he was right there, sprawled out in bed with the blanket held up for her like the first time she’d slept over. It was the same blanket when she opened her eyes again, and the thought of climbing into it without him waiting for her made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t look at the bed any longer, so she turned to the closet, sighing when she saw all the warm clothes that were far too much fabric for LA, even in the winter. It was almost unconscious, the way she found herself in front of his shirts, running her fingers over the various fabric until she landed on a familiar flannel. Checkered, with blue, white and black squares. Thick and warm, he’d worn it once when they went out to check on the progress of the tiny homes, and she’d woven her arms underneath it when she reached around him to hold on as he drove them through the trees.

Before she could stop herself, she snatched it off the hanger and pushed her arms through the sleeves, eyes prickling at the realization that she felt close to him for the first time in weeks, yet he was still so far away. She retreated back to the bedroom, grabbing one of the pillows and carrying it downstairs, all the way to the couch in the living room. The blankets were still in the basket in the corner, and she grabbed her favorite one before she curled up under it on the cold leather, pulling the flannel fabric up around her chin and closing her eyes.

In the kitchen, Gizmo turned on her perch and cocked her head.

“Dee,” she said, but Indiana was already asleep.

It was the best sleep she had in weeks - the peace of knowing that she wasn’t truly alone enough for her body to force her to catch up. Lisa was surprised to see her still curled up on the couch at 9:30 the next morning when she got ready for work as the rain continued outside. She watched her sleep for a few moments, heart tight at the way her eyebrows were still furrowed and her face buried in the collar of a shirt she was sure was her son’s.

She didn’t know the details, but she knew Grayson well enough to put together the pieces. But she also knew he wouldn’t let Indiana suffer this much if he truly knew how she was doing. It had to be bad if Indiana even considered coming out to the house, and it gave Lisa a level of mom anxiety she hadn’t had since the boys had picked up longboarding again. She wondered how he’d let it go on so long in the first place, and after a moment of debating, she scribbled down a note for Indy, went out to her car as quietly as she could, and called her son.

His phone sent her straight to voicemail. She tried again. Voicemail. With the third dial tone she couldn’t help the pit that grew in her stomach, an automatic mom reflex when your child is unreachable.

Instead, she called Ethan. It rang four times and then she heard a muffled groan and rustling before his voice came through the line.

“Ma, it’s 6:30 in the morning,” he grumbled, voice raspy and dry. “You okay?”

“Why isn’t your brother answering his phone? Are you two okay?”

Ethan sighed, annoyed. “He’s fine Mom, he’s just doing a detox from his phone. People were being shitty. He’s asleep down the hall, not dead in a ditch somewhere,” Ethan chuckled. Lisa wasn’t amused.

“Well, wake him up and un-detox him. He needs to call Indiana. Now.”

Ethan sat up in bed.

“Indy? Why, what’s wrong?”

“That’s for him to figure out. All I know is, she’s not doing well and he needs to call her. Now.”

“What happened?”

“Just make sure he calls her, alright? I’ve gotta get to work, I love you.”

“Alright, love you too.”

As soon as he hung up, he was on his feet, rushing down the hallway and throwing Grayson’s door open. He ran to the edge of his bed, shaking his shoulder until he groaned and opened his eyes.

“The fuck do you want,” he grumbled.

“You need to call Indiana, I just got off the phone with Ma. Something’s wrong.”

Grayson felt sick.

“What happened? Is she safe, is she okay?”

“I don’t know, you just need to call her.”

“You don’t know? You don’t know? The fuck do you mean you don’t know Ethan?” Grayson was yelling, but he was on his feet as he spoke, headed down the hallway in search of the lock box. He rummaged through the kitchen drawer until he found the key, hands so shaky it took three tries to unlock the metal contraption.

His phone was dead when he pulled it out, and it took all his willpower to keep from chucking it at the glass doors.

“Yours, give me yours.”

Ethan was a step ahead of him, already having Indiana’s contact pulled up. Grayson snatched it and hit the call button, heart pounding in his ears as he waited for her to answer.

Indy woke up to the buzzing of her phone against her arm where she’d tucked it the night before. Her eyes flew open - it must be Mrs. Newcomb, calling to tell her that Bekah had gotten worse. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes until she could read the name on her screen.

Ethan.

Her heart sank. She’d thought to call him more times than she wanted to admit, but she figured calling your ex's twin when said ex didn’t want to talk to you was crossing some moral line. Though as she sat on his mother’s couch, she figured it was time to get over the morals and do what she needed to do.

She swiped to answer.

“Dee? Are you okay? Are you safe?”

She couldn’t breathe. Her mouth opened and closed again as she tried to find something to say to the only person she’d wanted to talk to in almost three weeks. She hadn’t had time to prep herself, to give her heart a warning.

“Baby talk to me, tell me you’re okay,” he pleaded, and the pain in his voice was enough to snap her out of it.

“Grayson?” was all she could say.

“Yeah, it’s me. What’s wrong, are you hurt?”

“No, no I’m okay, I’m fine.”

Grayson took a breath for the first time since she picked up the phone. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what to say, the panic dissipating and leaving his brain blank. Luckily, she spoke.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” she said.

“I know. Indiana I’m sor-”

“It’s Beks.”

His heart skipped a beat, and the silence rang in his ears as he clutched onto the back of the couch. Ethan, who had been eavesdropping from the kitchen, moved closer. Grayson waited for her to speak, to say it so he didn’t have to ask.

“Is she-”

“No.” Indy’s voice broke. “But…”

“Oh god. Fuck. Fuck Indy.” His knees wobbled beneath him.

“She isn’t in any pain, we’ve been keeping her comfortable. But it’s probably gonna be in the next few days,” she whispered between sniffles, her voice squeaky and small as she fought to get the words out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to have to tell you over the phone but... “ she trailed off. “She asked when you were coming to see her, and I didn’t know what to say.”

The tears were burning as they slid down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes closed, fighting the imagery of Bekah in her hospital bed, calling out for him.

“Indy-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say so I just said you’d be there soon. If you can’t come she probably won’t remember, but I just wanted you to know, in case you wanted to be here. To see her, before…”

“I’m coming. I’ll be right there okay? I’m going to the airport now, I’ll be right there.”

Indy was silent for a moment, her eyes flickering to the rain outside.

“Fly safe. It’s storming here.”

“I will. I’ll see you soon okay? Just hold on, I’ll be there.”

“Okay.”

That sat in silence for a moment until Indiana finally hung up.

“I’m going with you,” Ethan said. He didn’t need context - all he knew is his brother needed him. Grayson nodded once, passed him his phone and headed straight for his room. He packed blindly, throwing things into his suitcase without bothering to fold them, just desperate to get on the road to the airport and get back to New York. Ethan was two steps behind him when he finally made it to the door, his phone pressed to his ear as he tried to explain the situation as best he could to a very worried Eden. Grayson loaded the bags as Ethan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving the charger open for Grayson’s still dead phone. Ethan practically peeled out of the driveway towards LAX, the cab filled with silence apart from the hum of the engine and the quiet sniffles from Gray when his phone turned back on and he saw all the missed texts and calls from Indiana who had been trying so desperately to reach him. The guilt made him queasy, and Ethan’s driving didn’t help as he hopped lanes and sped on, praying no cops were on the road.

Grayson’s knee bounced impatiently as they waited in the line for parking, paying an astronomical amount seeing that they didn’t know when they would be back. Then they were running, dragging their bags behind them on the asphalt and beelining for the front desk. The attendants eyes went wide when they requested the next flight to New York at the exact same time. It wasn’t taking off for three more hours, much to their dismay, but they accepted it and headed towards security with their heads low and phones in hand.

The next flight doesn’t leave until around 10 but we’ll be on it. I’m sorry.

He watched the bubbles appear and disappear three times over, and then her response came.

nothing to be sorry for. I’m back at the hospital with her, she’s resting. I’ll keep you updated. the storm is still really bad here, please be careful

He wished he could reach out and hold her hand, ease her anxiety about his flight. He couldn’t imagine the emotion of that on top of everything else, so he said all he could think to.

I’ll be safe, and I’ll be there soon.

He typed I love you and deleted it before he sent it.

And then, it was a waiting game. The boys kept their hoods up and their heads down in hopes they wouldn’t be recognized. It seemed the universe was in their favor for the time being, no one bothering them while they waited, but it took a turn when their flight was delayed for weather not once, but twice, pushing their departure time to 2pm instead. He apologized again, agonizing over the thought of Indy sitting in the hospital by herself, but her response was the same.

she’s still resting, it’s okay. just be safe.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Ethan tried to reassure him, but he knew it was futile.

“I should have been there. I should have never left her in the first place Ethan, I’m an idiot.”

“You couldn’t have known this was going to happen. You told me she was getting better.”

He thought his brother was still talking about Bekah, and the queasiness returned.

“She was.”

They sat in silence as the hours crawled by. Ethan bought them lunch from a vegan salad shop down the terminal, even got his brother one of the protein coffee drinks he liked. Grayson picked at the lettuce and left it abandoned for his twin to finish. His only solace was his headphones that he kept pressed far into his ears with a constant stream of Cudi to keep him sane. After what felt like an eternity, they called for boarding. He texted her again to let her know he was on his way, and in a cruel play of the universe or whatever it was, Teleport 2 Me Jamie began to play.

His eyes were blurry as he followed Ethan to their seats, climbing in by the window and readjusting his hood so it folded around his face as much as it could, hiding. Ethan leaned forward and acted like he was reading the SkyMagazine he found in the back of his seat, shielding his brother from view as best he could.

They’d been on a flight like this before. January of 2019 - it had been raining that day too, but they had both been crying that day. So he stayed strong for his brother as best he could, got him a gingerale when the flight attendant passed by, and left Grayson alone.

Indy wished someone would talk to her. She wished Bekah would wake up again - it had been hours of silence apart from the beeps of her monitor and the footsteps of the nurses outside the door. It was never truly silent in a hospital after all. But she was glad that she slept despite the loneliness. She hoped it would mean that she had energy for when Grayson made it to the hospital.

Grayson.

Her brain didn’t have the space to process that he would be there in the next six hours. His text that said he had boarded barely even registered in her mind, but her body was aware. Her anxiety picked up ten fold, her leg bouncing until it cramped, her lungs tight and fingernails bit down to the nail beds. The rain was relentless, as if the city were drowning already and it decided to add more for the fun of it, to watch the humans run around like ants in their multicolored raincoats. The universe was sick that way.

Mr. Newcomb returned from the nurses station where he’d insisted on dropping off some cookies he’d bought at the store. He was quiet as he came into the room, eyes on his daughter until he finally peeled them away to look at Indy.

“Do you think she’ll be asleep a little while longer? We were hoping to take some of her clothes home and wash them, so she has her choice from all her favorites for the next few days.”

“I think so. My… friend is coming later. Her other buddy, from the program. We’ll keep her company if you guys need to eat and get some sleep for a few hours. I can text you if anything changes.”

“I’ll see if I can convince Martina to get some shut eye I will,” he laughed, giving Indy a grateful smile and taking one more glance at his girl before he gathered her laundry and left. It only hit Indiana when he stepped out that she had never known Martina’s name until then. Bekah’s father was named Tarin, she knew that much. But she’d never even gotten to a first name basis with Martina. In all the years they’d known each other, and all the hours in hospital rooms and tears shared, she’d never been anything but Bekah’s mom to Indy. It wasn’t uncommon for Indiana to keep mom’s at an arm’s length from her. A protective mechanism she’d never consciously implemented, but it prevailed nonetheless.

She wondered if Bekah would have wanted to be a mom someday. When she was 13 she’d insisted that men were trash and that she’d never get married even if she made it through all her cancer, but as she’d gotten a bit older she loved to talk about all her celebrity crushes. Indy looked in her side drawer and smiled when she found the little picture of Harry Styles she’d given her during her last round of treatment - she’d taken it with her to every room since.

Indy paced the room, her anxiety to high to allow her to sit. She thought of Grayson on a plane somewhere, the metal tube rocking in the sky, cutting through the clouds. When she would get to the window she’d look up, hoping to see the lights from the wing of a plane somewhere, hoping it was his and that it was coming down safely.

She paced for two more hours before her phone buzzed.

Landed. I should be there in about 40. She still asleep?

Indy took in her first deep breath in hours.

yeah, she’s still out. I’ll meet you in the ocean hallway so you don’t have to buzz in, just text me when you’re close.

Will do.

Ma is picking us up so as soon as we get out we’ll head straight there

Ethan is with me but he’s just gonna go home with her for now

sounds good

She didn’t have much to say, her stomach fluttering against her will. Her emotions were too unbalanced for her to even know what was happening. Excitement, and fear and grief and anxiety and anger and confusion, all at once somehow. She wrapped her arms around herself to try to hold it together and went back to pacing.

Grayson was soaked by the time he made it into Lisa’s car, scurrying into the backseat and barking out directions harsher than he meant to.

“I already have it in the GPS. Calm down,” Lisa said, giving Ethan a side eye in the passenger seat.

“Sorry,” Grayson muttered, ringing his hands.

“S’alright babe,” Lisa sighed, reaching an arm back to pat his leg where she could reach. They drove in silence, listening to the rain smack against the roof and the windshield until Ethan spoke up.

“Did Indy call you? Is that how you knew something was wrong?” He asked Lisa. He hadn’t said anything, but he was worried too.

Lisa debated it for a moment, and then she sighed.

“She was upset, and she needed to get in touch with Grayson,” was all she said. “The rest of it, she can tell you.”

Gray didn’t have the energy to be annoyed. Every ounce he had was involved in the visuals flipping through his mind like a viewfinder; Indy in the ocean hallway, Bekah and her halloween blanket, the tiny homes, Indy’s tears in the airport. He hadn’t imagined that the next time he saw her would be like this. He wanted it to be different. Better. He wanted everything to be better.

When they finally made it to the hospital, Lisa pulled to the curb and turned to her youngest son with a serious look.

“You take care of her, but you take care of you too, okay? I love you.”

Grayson’s nose burned and he nodded once before he ducked out into the rain.

Indy stopped walking, and breathing, when her phone buzzed again.

Here. Omw up

She liked the message, fixed Bekah’s blankets and headed out into the hallway and through the doors. The smiles of the marine life were haunting as she waited for any sign that he was close.

Her head whipped up when she heard the familiar clammer of the far doors being pushed open.

He was wearing his yellow Cudi hoodie, but it was the wrong color. The fabric was darker than she remembered, darker than the picture she had of him in it, the one she’d taken in Jet’s once. It didn’t process that it was because it was wet until he was halfway down the hall. His hair was a bit longer than it had been, without Lisa there to trim it up. And his beard was full and scruffy and dark, hiding away his jaw line. She could still tell that his teeth were clenched though, his nerves palpable as he got closer and closer to her.

His shoe squeaked when he stopped in front of her. Neither of them breathed for a moment. They just stared at each other. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets to keep himself from hugging her, from crossing a boundary that he wished he’d never set.

“Hi,” he said.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Hey. How was your flight?”

“Long, but not too bumpy.”

Another painful beat of silence.

“How is she?”

“She’s still asleep, but we can wake her up. Meds are coming soon, just stuff to keep her comfortable. Her vitals are still okay, she’s just a bit groggy. But she’s excited to see you.” Indy offered him a small smile, and it had his knees ready to give out beneath him.

“And you? Are you okay?” He asked.

Indy’s smile faded, and she looked at the jellyfish.

“That doesn’t matter right now. C’mon, let’s go see her.”

Indy used her badge to swipe into the door, but Grayson’s throat was too tight to ask her about it. Instead he just followed her down the familiar hallway, trying to avoid the looks of pity from the nurses who recognized him.

Indy caught his wrist before he walked into the room.

“I didn’t… she doesn’t know about… us. I didn’t want to upset her, and it never really came up. I’m sorry,” she whispered. She sounded ashamed, but all Grayson could focus on was the feeling of her hand on his skin again, even if it was just a few fingers.

“Okay. That’s okay.”

“Okay.”

Indy walked into the room, the most hesitant that Grayson had ever seen her.

Beks looked cold. Even cuddled under her blankets she looked like she was freezing, and Grayson had trouble breathing. Indy went to the side of her bed, ran her thumb across her cheek and over to her shoulder where she squeezed gently.

“Beks, hey. Bekah,” she used her most gentle voice until the youngster stirred. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Grayson pulled it together in the last moment before Bekah opened her eyes.

“Earrings,” she sighed, a small smile on her lips. It was the most expression Indy had seen all day. “You made it.”

“Of course I did sweet girl,” he chuckled to hide his pain, moving beside Indy and crouching down so Bekah could see him easier. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“S’okay. We all know you’re slow,” she teased. “Hey, no tears. No crying in Bekah’s room.”

He hadn’t even realized he was until she said it, and he used his hoodie to wipe his eyes.

“Sorry Beks. Just missed you is all.”

“Yeah, well we missed you too. Did you convince my parents to go home?”

“Yeah,” Indy answered. “They’re getting some rest and bringing you some clean clothes.”

“Mmm, good. I think that black hoodie is a good one to die in,” she said, body shaking just barely with a laugh that turned into a cough.

“Pardon the death jokes, you’ll get used to them,” Bekah smiled at Grayson and the shock on his face once her throat cleared enough.

He thought of Sean, how he had pretended everything was fine until the very end, and he smiled.

“Don’t you think a black death hoodie is a little on the nose?” He said, and Bekah laughed. It sounded the most like her real one since she’d been off her treatment, and it warmed Indy’s soul.

“Fair point. Maybe I should go with blue. You think someone will let me into heaven if I’m in blue or will I just blend in with the sky?”

“I don’t think anyone has to let you in,” Indy said with a laugh, crouching down next to Grayson. Their knees bumped together. “Pretty sure you just end up there.”

“I hope so. There’s no one there to find me anyways.” The playful edge was gone from her voice, and Grayson frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m the first one. I mean, I guess my grandma is up there but I never knew her. Everybody always talks about how their family will be there, when they go.” She paused, taking a few deep breaths to get her energy back. She hadn’t talked so much in days, and her heart rate was rising from the exertion of it. The pair waited patiently, giving her the time she needed to finish her thought.

“I don’t have anyone to die for, anybody waiting on me. I gotta find my way in there alone.”

The innocence of it was enough to rip Indy’s heart in half, and she couldn’t find the comforting words that she wanted to give. But Grayson cleared his throat.

“You won’t be alone. I know of at least two people who will be right there waiting for you.”

She perked up a bit, eyes opening wider from where they’d started to close. “Really?”

“Yeah. My dad. He looks kinda like me, but shorter, with a better beard. His name is Sean.”

Bekah smiled. “Whose the other one?”

“A tall blonde lady named Nicole. Indy’s mom. Looks just like her, you won’t be able to miss her. They’ll help you, and keep you safe.” The sincerity in his voice was enough for Indy to realize he desperately wanted it to be true. She turned her head to hide her tears, clinging onto the bed rail to keep herself steady.

“That sounds nice,” Bekah breathed, her eyes slowly closing. “You all want me to tell them anything, when I get there?”

It was Grayson’s turn to lose his voice.

“No babe. We can tell them when we get up there.” Indy answered after a moment too long.

“That better not be for a long time. I gotta have some entertainment. Watch you all grow up and get married and have kids. You better name one after me too,” she sighed, her voice getting quieter as her heart sped up.

“You bet,” Grayson said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead as her breathing slowed and evened out again. It was slower than it should be, and Grayson realized his own breathing was fast… too fast. He brought a hand to his chest, then his other to cover his mouth and keep himself quiet.

“Shh, shhh hey, you’re okay, here, c’mon, you’re okay.” Indy’s voice was in his ear, her arms under his to try and guide him up to his feet, then out to the hallway. She held his arm and pulled him over into a supply closet that she swiped into, letting the door shut behind them.

“Breathe Grayson. It’s okay, just breathe.”

He fell to pieces in her arms, his back curled painfully so he could bury his face in the crook of her neck and sob. They were ugly sounds, wet and snotty and raw and she didn’t care. She just held him together as best she could with her small hands, let him relax into her and get it out of his system. His shoulders stilled eventually, but his arms stayed locked around her like a vice.

Neither of them moved until the motion sensor light clicked off, covering them in darkness.

They didn’t speak. They untangled themselves and let the light turn back on before they headed back into the hallway as if nothing had happened, back into Bekahs room. Her heart rate was perpetually high now, fighting to keep the blood pumping.

Another sign that the end was coming soon.

Indiana and Grayson sat down on the couch beside each other, just close enough for their shoulders to graze occasionally when they shifted. Indy watched the monitors and Grayson watched her, reading her expressions as best he could over what felt like an eternity. He looked at all the things he’d missed - the freckle by her ear, and the baby hairs that sat by her temple and never seemed to grow.

It could have been minutes, or hours. No one was sure. But eventually Indy’s posture slumped slightly, and with a final sigh she leaned over to the left, her head resting on Grayson’s shoulder.

He stopped breathing, only allowing himself shallow inhales that left his torso perfectly still so she could rest. He didn’t know how to feel, and against his will his eyes prickled at the realization that despite the fucked up situation they were in, she was there, leaned against him. Beside him. Something he wasn’t sure he was ever going to get ever again. The way she shifted and mumbled in her sleep let him know she wasn’t comfortable, but he let himself be selfish for a few minutes and soothed her back down so she stayed, relished in the weight of her on him and resisting the urge to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

He moved as carefully as he ever had to press a tiny kiss to her hair.

She sighed and settled down further in her seat, moving her head onto the back of the couch and freeing him.

The angle of her neck looked painful, and he scanned the room, noticing that they’d brought in two recliners, presumably for her parents. He stood up carefully and dragged the chairs away from the wall, lining them up like he had in his dad’s room. He hunted down a few extra pillows from the nurses, blankets too, and brought them in, making little makeshift beds for the two of them.

He felt guilt waking Indy up, but he didn’t want to pick her up without permission. Instead, he shook her shoulder gently until she stirred, panicking for a moment until she realized everything was okay. Her heart fluttered at the realization that Grayson was still there.

“Sleep over here, it’ll save your neck.” He nodded towards the chair and she stood up slowly, groggily moving over into one of them. She sighed as she settled in, exhaustion taking over. Grayson liked to think that she felt peaceful enough, safe enough to sleep because he was there, but he didn’t let himself believe it. So he simply moved her blanket up over her torso before he climbed into his own chair that faced the other way so they could see each other.

He watched her sleep for a moment, and then her hand moved just far enough down the arm rest. She wiggled her fingers until he got the message, slipping his hand into hers before he too fell asleep.

When they awoke the next morning, their hands were still intertwined, and Bekah’s parents were coming in the doorway. Indy woke up first, sitting up straight and squeezing Grayson’s hand.

“Grayson. Gray, hey, wake up.”

He grumbled until he was able to open his eyes, wiping his mouth with his hoodie sleeve as he came to and realized where he was. He was quick to stand, to introduce himself to Bekah’s parents with firm handshakes. His hair was a mess, and Indy bit her fingernails to keep from reaching out to smooth it out.

The day went by, measured by the heart rate monitor beeps that got quicker and quicker, and the rattling of Bekah’s breath as the fluid settled in her lungs. Martina and Indy changed her into her blue hoodie, and fixed her favorite scarf - one with tiny blue lightning bolts - over her head.

Indy and Gray didn’t have the energy or stamina to try to figure out where they stood, so they chose together, for the time being. She kept her arm wrapped around his, the way she used to when he walked her down the street. He traced over her fingers where she held onto him, chewing her lip while she watched her vitals grow worse and worse, all the red flags she would be trying to fix if that was the goal. Around 3pm, the nurse came into the room. The way Indy tensed was enough for Grayson to know something was happening.

“We’re gonna give her a bit more sedation to keep her comfortable. With the current levels of her vitals, it might slow her down enough to let her pass peacefully. There are no guarantees, but it is possible.”

Martina began to cry into her husband’s shoulder.

“So we should say our goodbyes then?” Tarin asked through a tight throat. The nurse nodded.

“We’ll administer it and then give you guys some privacy.”

“She won’t be in any pain, right?”

“No sir. It’ll just be like falling asleep.”

Indy watched as she set up her IV and stepped out of the room.

Grayson and Indy followed her out quietly, giving Bekah and her parents the moment that they needed. Indy’s breath was shaky, and she held tighter to Grayson as they waited in the hallway. He looked up towards the light in an attempt to stop the tears, and a few moments later, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

It was Martina, her eyes red and cheeks blotchy.

“You all are family. She would want you here with her.”

Grayson’s feet wouldn’t move until Indy guided him back into the room.

Bekah’s parents stayed on either side of her bed and held her hands while Indy and Grayson stood at the foot of her bed and watched her take her last breath.

Indy didn’t cry. She stood watch, only moving when the nurses came in to confirm time of death. She went and turned the monitors off, cutting the monotonous tone out abruptly as they removed Bekah’s IV. Grayson’s quiet sniffled and muffled sobs were almost enough to tip her over the edge, but she held it together. She hugged Martina, then Tarin, and then retreated into Grayson’s side yet again.

There wasn’t a signal, or anyone that told them it was time to go. But they found themselves outside in the hallway eventually, and they walked arm and arm. They signed out at the desk for the last time and walked out the doors of the pediatric oncology ward, through the ocean hallway and down the stairs.

The rain had stopped.

They walked the streets in silence, holding onto each other tightly as people passed them on the sidewalk, completely unaware of what had just happened to them. The world continued to turn, the city continued to bustle, and they continued to walk, one foot in front of the other until they made it to the elevator of her building.

Indy watched the numbers go by as it climbed. She didn’t say a word when they got to her floor, or through her door or over to her couch. Grayson sat down beside her and took his shoes off. She stared over his shoulder out the windows, an overwhelming numbness settling over her entirety.

“Indy, why don’t you take your shoes off,” Grayson whispered.

She didn’t look at him.

“Indy?”

He waited. The blues in her eyes were dark, and his heart sank. He knelt down and untied her shoes, sliding them off her feet gently. He took her socks off too - she hated sleeping in socks.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe, it’s okay,” he said, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. She swallowed hard, and that was enough for Grayson to justify picking her up and carrying her into her room. He sat her down and pulled her covers back before he got her into bed.

Once she was settled he stood up, waiting for just a moment before he spoke.

“I’ll be on the couch if you need me okay? I’ll be right here.”

Indy blinked hard, and then she shook her head.

Grayson went to his knees beside her in an instant, ready to do whatever she needed.

“Stay.”

That was all he needed. He circled around the bed and climbed in behind her, coiling his arm around her torso and crushing her back against him, pressing her into him everywhere he could. He willed himself to shield her, from the pain and the reality of what had just happened. He pressed a kiss to her hair and closed his eyes and he held his girl until morning.

#some of yall bout to be real mad at me #oop #PLS LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK :D #mixtape #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #dolan twins #dolan twins fanfiction

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cuddlepilefics · 4 years ago

Text

23. Needing a Hyung

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jeongin

Caregiver: Stray Kids

Noone’s POV.:

It was an ordinary off day at the Stray Kids dorm. Most members had made use of the opportunity to sleep in, only emerging from their rooms in the early afternoon. One of the especially late risers of today was Jeongin. The maknae had come down with the sniffles a few days prior and struggling to get proper sleep due to his stuffed nose, he was happy to have been able to stay in bed a bit longer. Jisung was already long gone when the younger swung his legs over the side of the bed, shuffling into the living room in his pjs. The giggling from the kitchen told him that his hyungs were up to something and had his nose not been that stuffy, he would have smelled the sweet scent coming from the oven, as the members were baking cookies for the upcoming holidays. Jeongin scrubbed at his eyes, still bleary from sleep as he went to greet the others. The first to notice his presence in the kitchen was Chan, raising his head and smiling at his dongsaeng. Waving shyly, he hummed a ‘Good morning’, ignoring the chuckling comments, reminding him that it was by far not morning anymore. The maknae seemed a bit lost, standing there in the middle of the crowded kitchen where everybody was busy with their assigned tasks. The leader noticed and walked over, wiping his hands on the apron he was wearing. He guided the youngest to the dining table, offering him some left overs from the breakfast they had had a few hours ago.

Exchanging a few words, Chan noticed how nasally Jeongin’s voice had gotten over night, prompting him to ask the younger how his cold was. “Better”, Jeongin hummed, nibbling on his food. He struggled to eat bigger bites because the only way he could breath was through his mouth, which was near impossible when his mouth was full. “Liar”, the leader replied when he saw the maknae’s eyes flutter shut and he drew a shuddering breath in. “h- hkshhu! h-gsh! *sniff*“, Jeongin had his hand firmly clamped over his mouth and nose, not daring to remove it even after he was done sneezing. “Hyu’g, d-do you have a tissue?”, the youngest pleaded embarrassed. Hyunjin passed the leader the paper-towel roll that was sitting on the counter and the oldest tore off a few paper-towels, handing them to Jeongin, so the maknae could clean himself up. “You’re not really doing any better, hm?”, the dancer asked, still standing behind Chan. “I guess”, the younger admitted in a small voice. He hated when his hyungs worried about him, so he had hoped he’d pass with lying about his condition. Putting his plate in the sink, the maknae washed his hands and pushed his sleeves up as far as possible. “How can I join you?”, he asked, watching Seungmin roll out the dough and Jisung and Felix cutting out shapes. “Uh-uh, no sickies in the kitchen”, Felix cited one of their dorm rules. This specific rule was put in place to prevent illnesses spreading through the entire group each time one member was sick.

“But all of you are doing stuff together. I’m lonely”, Jeongin pouted, making the leader’s heart ache. He wanted to go bundle his baby up in blankets and cuddle him till he was feeling all better, especially when he saw the little shivers, the maknae tried so hard to suppress. Chan knew though, that he could not leave the kitchen for the fear of his dongsaengs burning the dorm down. “Come on, I’ll watch movies with you”, Hyunjin smiled, wrapping an arm around the younger’s waist. Grateful that the dancer would keep their sick maknae company, Chan quickly took off his sweater. He was beginning to sweat anyways, with the warmth emitted from the oven. Handing it to Jeongin, he brushed the maknae’s bangs out of his eyes, taking a minute to hug him. “We can all watch movies and eat cookies together later when we are done here, yeah?”, he promised with the rest of the members looking up from their work and nodding in confirmation. The youngest returned the hug and nodded, allowing Hyunjin to pull him to the couch.

The pair had just gotten settled on the couch with Jeongin wearing Chan’s sweater over his sleep-shirt and a blanket over his lap. Opening Netflix, Hyunjin let the younger choose what they were going to watch but he got no reply. The dancer turned just in time to see the maknae’s eyes go unfocused, breath hitching softly as one hand came up to his nose, gently brushing his knuckles against his septum to sooth the itch but only tickling it more. "kshh! psh! aksh! h-gsh! h- hkshhu!", sniffling wetly, the youngest accepted the tissue from Hyunjin, as he recovered from the itchy fit. His eyes were still half closed, watering a little as Jeongin tried to blow his nose only to find it completely blocked. Taking a closer look than he had this moment, the older noticed the sickly pallor of his dongsaeng’s face, along with the tired expression he was wearing despite sleeping in late. He knew that Jeongin always tended to downplay his struggle and while the maknae was still busy tending to his runny nose, he quickly laid his palm across the younger’s forehead. Hyunjin flinched at the heat, cooing as Jeongin’s dazed eyes met his, while the maknae unintentionally leaned into the touch. “How about we move the party to your room? I think your bed is the only place for you to be at right now”, Hyunjin whispered only for Jeongin to hear. He didn’t want to embarrass his friend in front of everyone else. The maknae nodded, clinging to the dancer’s arm as standing up made his head swim. Slowly, they made their way to Jeongin’s room. The youngest had given up on hiding his condition from Hyunjin. He knew the older could see straight through his lies and to be honest, he was also craving comfort from his hyungs.

"kshh! h-gsh!“, the maknae sneezed, muffled by the pillow he had shoved his face into. Sighing, Hyunjin took a seat next to him and gently stroked one hand up and down his back. “Bless you”, the dancer mumbled while continuing to stroke the younger’s back soothingly. “If I asked you how you were feeling, would I get an honest answer?”, he hummed, slightly fed up with the maknae always lying to his hyungs about being fine. “Not that amazing, hyung”, came the reply muffled by the pillow in front of Jeongin’s face. Not very detailed but at least honest. Tugging gently on the youngest’s shoulder, Hyunjin motioned for him to turn over because it was difficult to understand the maknae’s words when he was hiding his face like this. “Innie, come on, a bit more details”, he encouraged. Jeongin tried his hardest to avoid his hyung’s gaze when he spoke up again: “I’m really tired but I can’t sleep properly, I can’t breathe, my nose is itching like crazy, my head hurts and my mind is really fuzzy, everything is sore and I’m cold.”

Hyunjin was taken aback, that was more detail than he had expected. He quickly brushed off his shock and gave a sympathetic smile to the pouting maknae. “Let’s work on feeling cold first”, he chuckled, grabbing the blanket that was still laying crumpled up at the foot of the bed from when Jeongin had gotten up this afternoon. The dancer fluffed it up a bit before smoothing it over the maknae’s shivery form, tucking in the sides. “Thanks, hyung”, Jeongin sighed, contently closing his eyes. He was ready to go to sleep right then and there but was trying to stay awake. “You know you can sleep, Sweetie. You probably should if you want to get better”, Hyunjin hummed, gently playing with his dongsaeng’s hair and noticing the desperate expression on Jeongin’s face. “Please stay. I don’t want to be alone”, the maknae murmured, barely audible while flushing a dark shade of pink. “Shh, it’s ok. I’ll sit with you till you fall asleep”, the dancer shushed, as he continued to pet the younger’s hair.

Jeongin woke up cold and alone a few hours later. It was already early evening and he wasn’t sure what had woken him up. Till his stomach twisted painfully that is. The maknae barely had enough time to slip out of bed and stumble to his desk, before coughing up the meager breakfast he had into the trashcan. He was panicking. With his nose stuffed up, he was fighting to get any air in between the waves. Jeongin was crying throughout the whole ordeal, praying at least one of his hyungs would hear him and come to his aid but no one did. He was panting, taking huge gulps of air, as he struggled to catch his breath. Feeling as though he was empty, the youngest almost wiped his eyes and mouth on his sleeve before remembering that he was wearing Chan’s sweater and getting a tissue instead. He was still shaky and weak but he couldn’t bear being alone anymore, so Jeongin pulled himself up, supporting his weight with one hand against the wall, as he struggled to the living room, swaying lightly.

The members in the living room looked up when they heard shuffling steps coming from the hallway. Chan immediately got up as he witnessed his dongsaeng sway and wrapped his arms around the younger’s waist to keep him balanced. “Hey, what’s wrong, Innie?”, he frowned at the tear running down the maknae’s cheek. “I-I threw up”, the youngest whimpered pitifully, burying his head against the leader’s shoulder. “Hyung, I told you I heard something”, Felix hummed lowly. The younger Aussie gave Jeongin’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, as he walked past to the kitchen to get the maknae some water. While he was gone, Chan walked the sick boy over to the couch, getting him situated next to Hyunjin, who was quick to wrap an arm around his dongsaeng’s shoulders. “Aish, you’re doing worse, hm?”, the dancer hummed, rubbing the Jeongin’s back, while Chan brushed his hair back to feel for a fever. “Well, you’re definitely burning now”, he stated, passing the youngest the water, Felix had handed him. The maknae gave the glass back after only a few sips, worried about upsetting his stomach again.

The members had all gotten up, making room for the youngest to lay down on the couch. While Chan was playing with Jeongin’s hair, Hyunjin had gone to fetch a cold washcloth to put on the maknae’s scalding forehead. Jisung went to their shared room to check where the other had gotten sick and if the sheets needed to be changed. He put a new trashbag into the bin, disposing of the old one. Although the sheets had been spared when the younger had gotten sick, they were soaked with sweat, so Jisung decided to change them anyways. He returned to the living room with and old quilt hanging over his shoulder. It was a comfort item the maknae had brought with him when they moved in and the rapper figured his dongsaeng would appreciate the comfort right now.

In the living room Jeongin was dozing off with his head in Seungmin’s lap, a bucket placed strategically on the floor between Seungmin’s feet. The was a damp cloth on the maknae’s forehead, causing the youngest to shiver ever so slightly. Heart breaking at the pitiful sight, Jisung spread the quilt over Jeongin’s legs, keeping his torso uncover. Despite the fabric being rather thin, he didn’t want to risk raising the other’s fever. The members had long finished their baking and got settled on the ground in the living room, playing a movie at low volume, so they could stay close to their sleeping maknae without waking him. Stray Kids were never really quiet but they were now, feeling overly protective of their youngest. It was hard to grasp how he could go from a mild case of the sniffles to what seemed like the flu but without a word being said, everyone had agreed on making their dongsaeng feel alright again.

It was already late evening when Jeongin started to squirm, pressing his face into Seungmin’s tummy. Getting a bit nervous, the second youngest pulled the bucket closer and studied his only dongsaeng’s face. “Hey, are you ok?”, Seungmin whispered, receiving a small nod from the sleepy maknae. Soft sniffles were coming from the boy in his lap and Seungmin feared that the younger was crying, so he brushed the stray hairs out of Jeongin’s eyes to get a better look. Although there were no tears, something was off. “Your face looks funny”, he observed. “N-Nheed …s-sneeze”, the youngest gasped, shuddering. “Oh, go ahead”, Seungmin replied dumbfounded. He earned a death glare that would have been a lot more intimidating if the maknae’s eyes weren’t completely glossed over. “Can’t”, Jeongin whined, scrubbing at his face and ignoring the giggles that came from his youngest hyung. “Hold still!”, the other instructed, gently pulling the maknae’s hands away from his face. Seungmin was wearing a very fluffy knit sweater and pulled the sleeve over his hand. He started to gently run his sweater paw against the side of Jeongin’s twitching nose, keeping his touch light. The younger whimpered softly before his eyes fluttered shut and he gasped weakly. Although his nostrils were flaring and the tickle was slowly becoming unbearable, it was not enough to sent him over the edge. Seungmin cringed in sympathy as he watched his dongsaeng’s breath hitch desperately. He gave the younger’s nose a firmer rub before the maknae pushed his hand away, cupping his own hands over his face and turning his face to the side. “h- hkshhu! Hkshhu! h-gsh! kshh! psh! *sniff* h-gsh! ugh“ – “Bless you”, Seungmin giggled, handing his sniffly dongsaeng a tissue. The younger was still recovering from his itchy fit, tears dotting his lashes as he blinked at his hyung. “Feels better?”, his hyung chuckled. “Y-Yeah, thanks”, he sniffled into the tissues, still a bit out of breath.

With the annoying itch having backed down a bit, Jeongin was able to take a closer look at his surroundings. All of his hyungs were there and he heard a familiar sounding movie playing somewhere close-by. Sitting up, he was met with quite a few concerned faces. A small smile was plastered on his tired face, knowing everyone was here with him. It was a stark contrast to how lonely he had felt earlier. “H-Hey”, he rasped giving a small wave. “Hey there, sleeping beauty”, Chan chuckled at the maknae’s cuteness, “Feeling a bit better?”. Jeongin gave a small nod. “A bit hungry actually”, he admitted with a pout. “Yeah? What do you want to eat?”, Hyunjin smiled. “Didn’t you guys make cookies?”, the youngest asked innocently, making their leader frown. “You got sick earlier, are you sure your stomach is up for that?”, the oldest questioned, worried their baby would hurt himself more with that food choice. “My stomach feels fine, I really do think this is just a cold. No idea what came over me earlier”, Jeongin hummed honestly. “Alright, just take it slow and stop if it’s not sitting right”, Hyunjin sighed, handing his dongsaeng a small plate with a few cookies on it before placing a larger plate for the rest of the members onto the coffee table. Despite it already being late in the evening, Jeongin didn’t feel like going to bed since he had been napping all day, so his hyungs kept their promise. They sat with him eating cookies and watching movies till the youngest felt tired enough to sleep again.

#skz #stray kids #sick #sickfic #snz #emeto #whump #christmas #comfort #fluff #yang jeongin #jeongchan #hyunin #jeongmin

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wendystales · 4 years ago

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Memories - lrh (Chapter Three)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Two ※※※※※ Chapter Four

My mother spent the night with me and early in the morning I managed to convince her to go home and sort out her own things. Stephen was supposed to arrive at 8 am and I didn't want her here when that happened, she wouldn't like to see him at all.

“If there's anything I'll call, you can go, really.” I assure her, who goes reluctantly.

The clock struck five to eight and I was for the thousandth time running my hands through my hospital gown and my hair. My hands were sweating and my stomach was churning, I stared at the door as if I wanted to open it with the power of my mind, until it opened.

It was shocking to see him so different from what I remembered. His hair was shaved and bleached, almost white. Now he had a colorless rose on his neck that took up half of his left side and a piercing in his septum. He was a different person, just like me, it really had been years.

“Only Marnie McGonagall manages to remain exuberant even all run down.” he cracks a wide smile to break the tension. “These are for you!” he hands me a bouquet of daisies. They're not my favorite, but I thank him.

“Thank you, they are beautiful. Thank you for coming.” I try to control my breathing. It's all so strange.

“I was surprised by the call, I swore that after you left you would never speak to me again.” he throws himself on the chair beside the bed.

“So our breakup was real?”

“Yes, but not the way you were told, you met this famous guy and fell for him. We had already broken up when I started going out with Bethany.” he talks as if he is talking about the weather. The mention of him and Bethany together makes me nauseous, maybe it was jealousy.

“My mother talked about cheating, that I caught you guys.” I introduce the subject calmly, I know how much Stephen hates to be accused of anything. He rolls his eyes like he' s saying ‘I knew it.’.

“It impresses me that you buy that, Lizzie. You know how much your parents hate me. You broke up with me, that's true, but because you met this guy. He bewitched you, and it wasn't easy to get over you.”

I take a deep breath trying to control myself. It was too much information, too much information. I had broken up with Stephen for Luke, this didn't make any sense. I loved Stephen, I still do. Maybe this memory loss was a chance for us to get back to the way things were before.

“Did you and Bethany...?”

“No! It didn't work out, then she moved to Canada with her family, it wasn't going to work out, and deep down…” he comes closer, sitting on the bed and holding my hand. “I still love you.”

I open my mouth, but can't say anything, the statement takes me in total surprise. Stephen seizes the moment and kisses me. Nostalgia overwhelms me and all the moments we have lived through take over my mind, but deep, deep down, something screams in my head, it wasn't right, it didn't feel right. It wasn't him.

I lower my head breaking the kiss, feeling more lost than before. Stephen holds himself in place, but my urge is to push him away. Something bubbles up inside me and it is not happiness or passion.

“I think it's time for you to go.” I let out a harsher tone than I expected. I still don't face his eyes, maybe out of fear, maybe because I can't bear to look at him.

“You call me here and send me away like this?” he asks incredulously and offended. “You are unbelievable, Marnie. I don't know why I still waste my time with you. Your memory may have faded, but deep down you are still under his spell.” at that moment I abruptly turn my face to meet his. I know that my eyes are burning with anger, and so are his.

“I said, it's time for you to go.” I say in a broken voice, listening to my heartbeat rise.

Stephen stares for a few seconds before he gets up, picks up the daisies, and slams the door. I sink into bed, trying to calm myself. It really wasn't one of my better ideas to call Stephen here, but maybe it was necessary.

I turn on the TV and flip through the channels until I notice a picture of me. I go back to the channel and turn up the volume. They are talking about my accident and without me being able to prepare myself, they play the video of how it all happened.

I hold my breath as the pickup truck crashes into my side, causing my car to spin on the road and crash into the pole. They play it one more time, but in slow motion. The tip of my nose tingles and my eyes start to fill up.

Still watching the TV, my mind brings back the moment of the accident.

"I crank up the starter and before I can send the audio, I feel a loud impact on my left side. A deafening noise fills the entire car. Quite faintly, I watch the track spin and feel the shards of glass hit me, before I give myself over to that uncontrollable sleep."

The video changes and they show my attending, I cover my mouth, watching my unconscious body being pulled from the car.

My stomach clenches and I feel like vomiting from the nervousness. I turn off the TV and grab my cell phone, going back to researching my life in an attempt to distract myself.

Unlike yesterday, I Google my name and see what headlines pop up about me. Some sites give a brief summary of my trajectory, which helps me a little.

I watch some videos of rehearsals, interviews, fashion shows, even those videos of paparazzi leaving restaurants, with him. I look again at Instagram calmly, photo by photo, video by video, even the stories archives. There are several parties, trips, slumber nights, bts from photo rehearsals, and a lot of stuff with him, again. Of course, he is your boyfriend. Asshole!

I barely recognize myself on the screen. The Marnie I watch is outgoing, funny and charismatic, and I was never like that, at least as far back as I can remember. Which leads me to believe that this Marnie, model, famous and full of important friends, is a character.

Leah, Noah, Calum, Ashton, Mike and Kyleen. They don't just seem like friends, they seem like my family, brothers, I don't know. While it is fun to watch some of these videos, of all of us fooling around and messing up, on the other hand it hurts not to have any memories of them.

“How is my little girl doing?” I snap out of my trance and run my eyes to the door. I feel my eyes water as I recognize the middle-aged man.

“Dad!” I hadn't realized the urge to cry until I saw him. Until I felt his embrace.

“ It's okay, my love. I'm here. It's going to be all right, I swear!” he comforts me while I soak his shirt.

“ I'm sorry.” I pull away, trying to control my tears.

“For what?” he looks at me curiously. I shrug, not knowing what to say. Lately I feel I have to apologize for everything. “Honey, none of this is your fault. This amnesia is just a sequel, in a little while it will go away and you will remember everything.”

“I hope so. Even because everything I've forgotten has been very hard to remember.” I comment, playing with the bar of the blanket.

“ It's been a busy three years. You went from just my little girl, to one of the top models of 2019. That's quite a breakthrough.” he laughs, which makes me crack a smile. Only my dad could make me find that funny.

“Apparently I'm dating a rock star.” I join in with him.

“A very nice guy, I must say. He gave me a Gibson guitar.” he widens his eyes, emphasizing how awesome that was.

“Dad, you play guitar?” that would be nothing compared to what I couldn't remember.

“No, but it is amazing to have it on the wall.” for the first time since this whole nightmare, I allow myself to laugh.

My father spent the rest of the morning with me. He told me about his new job and how he was traveling the world now, helping his boss. I don't know how my mother was dealing with all this, she hated to be away from him.

“Mom must not like this new job of yours at all, huh?” I ask, scraping my red Jell-O.

I glare at my father when I notice his silence. We were sharing the bed space, he also had a Jell-O and we looked like two little girls gossiping while stuffing themselves with ice cream. I find his silence strange and wonder if something is wrong.

“Dad?” I call him once more.

“I was trying to find the best way to tell you this.” he sits up straight.

“What? Did you and Mom have a fight?” that was normal, not that big a deal.

“No! Actually, a little more than two years ago, your mother and I talked and we thought it was better to go our separate ways... with different people.” he speaks very slowly, calmly, and a little fearfully. I blink a few times, taking in the words and what they meant together. They got divorced?

I sit up like him, feeling uneasy. I start to breathe deeply. My relationship went down the drain. My parents broke up. Bethany disappeared across Canada. Nothing, absolutely nothing, that I had before had survived.

“Honey?” he brings me back to reality.

“Why? What? What happened?’ I ask. He opens his mouth a few times, saying nothing, trying to find what to say.

“Things were not going very well anymore. We were arguing too much and not even looking at each other anymore.” he takes a deep breath, visibly uncomfortable. “And I had an affair with a woman from my old job, that was the end of it.” he says so low, I can hardly hear, and honestly, it was better not to listen.

I always grew up thinking that my father was the best man in the world. My superhero. Prince Charming from all the Disney movies. The kind of man I would like to meet in my life. And then I find out that my father was none of these things. He is just like all the others.

“How could you?” disgust overflows in my mouth. “You have a family.” again something bubbles up inside me.

“I have no excuse, no justification, I was wrong and I regret the way things turned out. It didn't have to be this way. Okay, today your mother and I are friends and we go our separate ways, but there was no need for all that suffering to happen.” he stares again at the jelly, ashamed.

Silence fills the room. Nobody knows what to say. I don't recognize the man next to me. I don't even know what is going on in my head at the moment, there are so many thoughts and assumptions that I feel like I'm going crazy.

“Have you found someone yet? I mean, are you still with that woman from your old job?” I ask softly, poking the skin on my finger.

“No, she was just a fling. It didn't work out. Your mother was seeing someone until last month, but apparently it didn't work out.” he shrugs, which shocks me a little. I know it's so natural for them, but I'm still absorbing it here. “I met someone, Meredith. We've been together for a year now.” he gives me a beautiful, passionate smile. “Let me show you some pictures.” He gets as excited as a teenager. “Unless you don't want to.” he looks at me fearfully.

“I want to.” I crack a tight smile.

My father is back to being the excited teenager as he shows me the pictures of Meredith and her children. Children?

“They're yours?” I ask slightly jealous.

“No, Kendall and Samantha are from her first marriage, they are twins.” he smiles. “But I love them as if they were my own, the same way I love you.” he gives me a kiss on the side of my head.

He passes me another picture and my heart races as soon as I see them both, he on my lap and she on Luke's lap. I hold up the cell phone and stare at the picture with an ache in my chest.

“This was at my wedding, you both looked beautiful.” my father comments softly. I bite my lip, trying to control my crying and smiling at the same time. We really did look beautiful.

“I always wanted to have brothers, remember?” I ask with my voice shaking. I pass another picture and now my father and Meredith are posing with the four of us.

“They think you are the best big sister in the world.” I grimace, letting the tears come over me. They are not from sadness. Honestly, I don't even know what they are from, but the feeling is good.

Around lunchtime my father left, as he was exhausted, he had come straight here from the airport after a 12 hour flight. I was alone for the rest of the afternoon reading, until my mother arrived at 4pm to pick me up.

When we left the room, I noticed that Luke didn't come, which I find strange, since I remember my mother had commented that he was coming with her.

“He had an upcoming incident with the band, but he should be at your apartment later.”

The fact that I have to wait longer to talk to him makes me nervous and anxious. I just wish he would show up soon so he could help me with everything and clear up the sea of curiosity.

Along the way, I am talking to my mother about her and my father. I was so distracted by the conversation that I didn't even notice when we arrived in front of a beautiful building.

“Are you sure we are at the right address?” I ask looking out the window. My mother laughs and gets out of the car. I live here?

When we get to my floor, I realize that there is only one apartment per floor. We must be at the wrong address. My jaw drops as I enter the hall of the apartment.

Right away I find a huge painting of myself on the wall to my left. I was wearing that strange make-up and an even stranger outfit. The tone is black and white, but I am sure that the color picture is very colorful.

“This was the picture of your first magazine cover.” my mother clarifies with a huge smile on her face. I stare at my picture again, still frowning.

I follow my mother into the living room, once again letting my jaw drop. I had a living room right at the entrance, to my right was the living room with a huge TV, and to my left was the dining room. Slowly, I walk through the space, looking at everything breathlessly.

“Is this my apartment?” I ask in surprise. My mother lets out a short laugh before confirming. “I bought it?” she nods. “With my money?” she nods again. “As a model?” she laughs. “Okay! This is still too much for me.”

I walk curiously around the apartment again, looking at the kitchen, living rooms and, of course, the bedrooms. Two guest rooms and mine. When I reach the second floor, I am confronted with a hallway full of pictures. They range from personal photos to work photos. I pay more attention to the pictures of me and Luke. We are a beautiful couple.

I go into my room and find everything arranged. I let the excitement take over me when I see the closet. I look at the clothes, amazed, besides several boxes of brands like Gucci, Prada and Chanel still unopened.

On the last shelf, I see an older looking box, the slightly faded color catches my eye. I pull out a small ladder and carefully pull the box onto my lap, it wasn't heavy, but doing this with a broken arm and a twisted leg is not easy.

I sit down on the closet floor itself and open the box, wishing I hadn't seen it and maybe never opened it. I gently run my hand over those little souvenirs with tears in my eyes once again. I need to stop crying.

Movie and concert tickets, dried flowers, empty peanut cans, cards, cabin photos, and beer caps, everything I lived through with Luke. The feeling that takes over me is almost suffocating. My body feels and radiates all that it represented, but my mind would not let the image load.

Underneath it all, I pull out a diary and, at the same time that curiosity eats away at me, fear also takes over. I close my eyes and open to a random page.

"I can't believe I modeled at NYFW. OMG! OMG! OMG! It's unbelievable. I'm going to need to watch the runway show about a thousand times before I can believe it."

I flip back a few sheets and stop when I see Luke's name.

"I know it's not a good sign that I'm thinking about him and being so close to him, but I can't help it. Luke is amazing. The way he looks at me, how he listens to me, how he understands me, and his kiss...I can't forget his kiss..."

“Sweetheart?” I hear my mother scream. I wipe away the tears and put the little box under the skirt of some dresses. I get up as fast as I can and walk to the bedroom door.

“Yes?”

“I thought I'd help you in the shower, what do you think? Get rid of that hospital smell.” I accept the idea, which sounds very good.

After a good shower, I put on some pajamas and get to know my room, opening all the drawers, looking at all the makeup, everything. I decide not to go through that box anymore, because I still don't know how to manage everything it represents.

Once again my mother calls me and I believe it's for dinner, but when I get to the living room I find a brunette girl and a guy with red hair.

“Hi?” I nod gracelessly.

“Hi!” they return the greeting a little nervous too.

I ‘know’ who they are. Ashton and Leah. They are in several pictures in my social networks, in my hallway and on the living room furniture.

I watch the brunette with long hair, crack a huge smile. I watch her fingers tightening, like a child trying to control herself. I smile fearfully, but it was enough for her to apologize before squeezing me in a hug.

“I know you don't remember me, but I am your best friend and I am so glad that you are okay.” I look at my mother, who is smiling, and at Ashton, with my eyes wide and patting her on the back.

“Leah, you don't have to suffocate her.” Ashton comments without manner, scratching his forehead.

She walks away gracelessly. I give her a smile, but thank her for the space. Ashton approaches a little fearfully and holds out his hand, respecting my space, but it is apparent that he also wants to give me a hug.

“You can hug me, I don't bite.” I joke, trying to break the tension.

He says nothing more and surrounds me with his arms. Unlike Leah, I manage to return the hug in the right way. His hug takes longer and I feel some tears on my shoulder.

“I thought we were going to lose you.” he squeezes me one more time, before pulling away, drying his tears clumsily.

“You won't get rid of me that easily.” I blink at them both.

“Well, the reason we came here was not just to see you. Of course we were worried to death and everyone wanted to come.” Leah begins.

“But we thought it better not to come all at once so as not to frighten you.” Ashton interrupts quickly. I thank him silently.

“Deep down, we wanted to bring you this.” she hands me a pen drive. “It's not perfect, but we made a powerpoint to explain everything that happened in these three years.” Leah gives a closed smile.

‘You made a power point?” I ask incredulously.

“Of course we did!” Ashton shakes his shoulders. “We hope it helps and that you remember something. Anything at all, any questions, just call.”

“Thank you very much!” I smile in appreciation for both of them.

“Don't you want to stay for dinner?” my mother offers. I look at them expectantly. They both look at each other and give a shrug.

“We don't have an appointment, right? It won't be a problem. The guys will just be really pissed off that they didn't come.” Leah warns Ashton.

“It will be a pleasure to have dinner.” Ashton smiles in appreciation.

Dinner was very quiet, I did most of the talking. They were very curious to know what amnesia was like and how I was feeling and dealing with everything.

“Depending on how things go for you this week, we thought we would have a dinner on Friday. Then if you feel comfortable, of course, you can see everyone again.” Ash suggests.

There is still time until Friday, but just the thought of seeing everyone makes my stomach turn. I know they are my friends and they know me, but I still get nervous. Not to mention that they are famous, I don't know how to deal with these people. Although I am too.

“That's fine, we'll confirm by Friday.” I open a nervous smile. “Huh, Luke didn't want to come?” I question, upset at his absence today.

How am I supposed to get to know and get close to him if he doesn't come?

I watch the two of them look at each other and wrap up the beginning of their answer. In the end, Ashton sighs and answers.

“He is having a hard time absorbing all this. He just needs some time to sort it all out in his head.” Ash shrugs, signaling that it was no big deal.

I understand that it is hard for him. I don't know how I would handle it if I were him, but I'm not going to pretend to be upset that he's not here either, although I can't do anything about it, I'm not going to force him to stay here if he doesn't want to.

“It's really weird having Luke as my boyfriend, you guys as best friends. It's so out of reality. It feels like I'm in a dream and soon I'll wake up.” I comment, playing with the cloth napkin.

“Look, the first time you handled and accepted all of this well. I'm sure you'll manage again.” Leah squeezes my hand on the table.

“So, a powerpoint, hm?” I change the subject not being able to prolong my curiosity any longer. Even though I'm scared, I want to see it.

Leah cheers up again and begins to explain everything very excitedly. With their help we go to the living room and I put the pen drive on the TV, ready to see what they have done. It is strange to think that this small object has all the answers I am looking for. Not to mention the fear of the unknown, in this case, the forgotten one.

“Ok, so this is Michael…” I watch her standing beside the screen, explaining everything to me, with extreme patience and good will. My god, she is an angel.

I look at all my friends and the things we have done. I notice how Ashton was a kind of older brother, overprotective, and Leah was a kind of sister. Always holding hands or holding arms. Or when we were drunk, trying to climb on each other's backs.

They put all the trips we took, my fashion shows and photo shoots, some interviews. It was a great summary. I stare at the screen feeling something strange welling up in me, I see flashes forming in my head, and I begin to force myself to remember.

“Don't skip.” I shout to her, not wanting to lose the flow of memory. “Play that video again.” I ask desperately.

I approach the TV watching Noah, Leah's brother, walking in front of the camera with a bag on his head and complaining that the product was burning. He was bleaching his hair.

" “Why does this shit burn so bad?” I hear Noah shouting from the room, pissed off.

“Because it's bleaching.” I answer, grabbing another cookie from the plate. I sit down on the couch next to Calum, who is very interested in the package of bleach.

“What do you think about me bleaching mine?” he asks, still focused on the package in his hand.

I stare at him for a few minutes, trying to imagine the look. I pout, signaling that it wouldn't look too bad, in my opinion.

“For God's sake, you're not going to do that ridiculous lock of hair again, are you?” Leah shouts from the bathroom.

“It wasn't ridiculous.” He defends himself loudly. “But I really wouldn't do it again.” he comments softly, making me laugh.

“OH MY GOD.” I hear Noah scream. We run into the bathroom to find his white hair, with a few colored dots, just like the ones in the bag.

I cover my mouth in shock. Leah starts to record trying to hold in her laughter, as do I, but we simply can't stand it when Calum reads the name of the pharmacy in Noah's head.

I see him leaning against the doorframe laughing with his hand on his stomach and eyes closed. Miserably, I still try to hold in my laughter, not lasting long and joining Calum, becoming almost breathless.

“Oh man.” he dries his tears, laughing again next."

“Noah didn't want to go out anymore that night. We ordered burritos and stayed at his place. Calum and I spent the whole night laughing about it.” I speak too fast, running over a few words. I replay the scene in my head a few more times still flustered.

They both look at me and Leah starts jumping up and down in celebration. I remembered, I remembered! I start yelling at her, celebrating.

“What's wrong?” my mother comes running from the bedroom.

“I remembered. I remembered Noah with bad hair!” I shout, out of breath. The three of them hug me and again we shout.

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skinsharpenedteeth · 4 years ago

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Do you believe in ghosts?

Just a quick little ditty based off the prompt: Does your character believe in ghosts? Have they ever seen one?

A/N: I’ve been writing a lot of smut lately so I’m taking a fluffy palette cleanser. Sweet stuff ahead. TW: Mentions of abuse

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Alex asked into the crisp darkness of the desert as he stared straight up at the stars. The sky was glorious that night, bright in the way only a clear night sky can be, still and silent in the way only winter could be with things too smart to brave the cold staying in and sleeping until the sun could warm the earth for them. Alex wasn’t smart and didn’t feel particularly brave. He hadn’t told Guerin, but the biting cold of the truck bed was acting as an ice pack for his back which he wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises mottling tomorrow morning. He turned his head as the silence stretched on and looked over at Michael laying beside him. His eyes were closed and he might’ve been sleeping.

“Guerin,” Alex said his name a little sharply. Michael opened his eyes and turned to look at him, expression serious and solemn. He seemed to be considering the question before speaking.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to discount it as fantasy the way you do with vampires or werewolves. We know there’s more to this universe than just humans and amoebas out in space somewhere, but ghosts? Ghosts seem like they could be a thing,” Michael answered finally. He shifted onto his side and pulled the blanket that was covering them both higher onto Alex’s chest. They were both fully clothed with double layers, jackets, and warm knit caps for their late-night desert date, but it was still January and the blankets were a welcome addition. Alex stayed on his back, not relishing the stiffness he’d have to fight when it was time to move later. “What about you, love?”

Alex sighed and turned his eyes back to the sky. He let a small smile tug at his lips as he felt Michael’s warm hand find his under the blankets before pulling it up to hold it against his chest while he waited on Alex to speak. Neither of them had remembered gloves and the cold made their fingers ache and stiffen if they didn’t keep them relatively warm.

“I want to believe there’s something… science says the energy and heat of our body just dissipates or transfers to other living things… I don’t know if I can accept that completely, but sometimes I want to…” Alex spoke to Guerin as much to himself. He'd been considering what it would be like to not exist a lot recently. He’d wondered if his heat would dissipate, his lifeforce fade into particles meant for other living things, or if he had enough spite in him to hold those parts together and haunt the living.

“Have you ever seen a ghost?” Michael asked and Alex could see him still watching him from the corner of his eye.

“After my mom left. I woke up one night and went to the bathroom and on the way back I thought I saw something in the hallway. It didn’t last long and I could’ve still been asleep, I was only 8, but for a moment I was convinced it was my mom’s ghost. I ran to my brother Greg’s room crying and he let me sleep with him and told me we’d call mom the next morning to make sure she was okay. Turns out she was fine. I have no clue what I saw that night, who that ghost might’ve been, but it wasn’t my mom…it just… it felt like family for some reason,” Alex said the last part quietly, embarrassed and sure Guerin was going to tell him how stupid he was. He wiped at his nose absentmindedly with his free hand and was shocked at how cold his septum ring felt against his skin. Michael stayed silent and when Alex dared to sneak a look at him, he saw that his eyes were distant and his focus internal.

“Hey,” Alex said, pulling his hand free from Michael’s so he could cup his cheek and bring his attention back up to the present. He hated when Michael got too deep in thought like that. It felt like he was losing him. Michael’s eyes immediately darted up to meet his at the first warm touch of his palm against Michael’s cold cheek. He smiled and turned his head, kissing the base of Alex’s thumb with cold lips.

“Sorry. I got lost in my head,” Michael admitted quietly, his smile turning shy as he kept eye contact with Alex. Alex started to shift to turn on his side and hissed quietly as his muscles pulled, reminding him that his night had started with a forceful discussion about house rules and personal conduct. He pushed through it, gritting his teeth and completing the turn onto his side so he could mirror Michael’s body with his own. Michael’s hand slipped under the cover and found it’s way under his shirt to his waist, making goosepimples erupt all over Alex’s skin.

“Ass,” he teased as Michael scooted his body closer to his and wedged his knee between Alex’s. His body warmth was welcome and Alex felt the sigh of contentment roll out of his lungs the second he was cocooned between Michael and the blanket. Michael’s thumb pet the dip of his waist absentmindedly as Alex got through a round of shivers that had been brought on by the change in position, exposing previously warmed spots to the cold fingers of the night air. To distract himself, he pushed his own hands under Michael’s shirt and grinned maliciously as he heard Michael grunt and felt his muscles contract almost violently against his frozen fingers. “That’s what you get for being an ass. Fair’s fair.”

“I guess,” Michael conceded through clenched teeth, but he didn’t push Alex’s hands away. He let them move over his stomach and chest from warm spot to warm spot, jumping only a little when Alex found the places where he was more sensitive to any touch, not just cold, searching fingers.

“So what about you?” Alex asked once he’d found a place to rest his hands on Michael’s stomach. Michael’s muscles quivered under his, but he unclenched long enough to try and answer Alex’s question.

“Me what?” Michael asked a little breathless, a huff of fogged air billowing between them. Alex smiled up at him, pleased that he was letting himself be uncomfortable to warm Alex’s hands. It was so sweet it made Alex’s chest feel tight.

“Have you ever seen a ghost?” Alex asked, wrapping one of his marginally warmer hands around Michael’s back to draw him closer. Michael scooted until there was barely an inch between their bodies and took his hand off Alex’s waist to grab the blanket and pull it over their shoulders. He huddled down as close to Alex as he could be until their mingling breath made Alex’s skin feel warm and damp.

“I have never seen a ghost, but I’ve seen enough demons to last a lifetime,” Michael finally replied, tone light and joking. Alex knew it wasn’t all a joke, however. He’d seen the cross shaped scars on Michael’s forearms and then small cigarette burns that littered his back and shoulders. Before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the hollow of Michael’s throat. He let his mouth stay there, trying to push through his skin onto Michael’s how much he understood what growing up had stolen from him before he pulled away. Michael found a way to worm both of his arms around Alex’s shoulders and he held him closer, letting him keep his face pressed against Michael’s skin and wrapping him in the warmth from their bodies. “We should go ghost hunting someday, just to see if we find anything.”

“Yeah, maybe after high school?” Alex suggested, raising his voice a little to be heard through all the fabric surrounding him.

“Yeah, when it’s warm,” Michael agreed easily. Alex smiled against him and hummed his agreement to the plan. They laid out there for another hour before they became too cold for even Guerin’s unnaturally warm temperature to keep them both from shivering. Alex looked out across the empty, dark desert before Michael turned on the headlights and ruined their night vision. It was so quiet and alien when it was this dark and still, he imagined briefly that they were on an alien planet somewhere, just the two of them. Then he wondered if aliens had ghosts or if the idea of ghosts even ever crossed their minds…

#malex fic #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #high school years #fluff #tw: mentions of abuse

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jodilin65 · 3 months ago

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Just an initial update that I started yesterday but was too out of it to share. There’s more to come but I may not get to it today.

It's been a scary and frustrating last couple of days. I was short of breath and feeling horrible because every time I fell asleep, I would wake up suffocating. Realizing that it had nothing to do with a lack of fluids or carbs, I started to suspect I had COVID. Then we both came to suspect, especially after learning that my nasal spray was a steroid and not a blocker like what I used to take, that the stupid pulmonologist was wrong to increase my dose. It only made my nose stuffier. AI said it could make my lungs tight as well, but since it wouldn't quit and it was so bad it kept me up, we went to the Minute Clinic. They were really worried about my blood pressure at first because the top number hit 184. Then it was 178 and eventually 153.

The only funny part was that the nurse shared the same name as a rather infamous woman whose name I won’t mention. “Yep,” she said dubiously when I said the name, no doubt wishing her mother had picked any other name for her. The poor girl probably gets comments all the time.

They tested me for COVID, and I was negative. They also said my lungs and nose looked fine, although they didn’t have the tools to look far up in my nose at my septum. I haven't had any lung congestion or cough, and the stuffiness in my nose was dry. The nurse recommended Claritin and wrote out a prescription for methylprednisolone to be taken for six days.

On the way out of CVS, we decided to grab a candy bar and soda with caffeine. It was my first candy bar in months, but I didn’t care. I needed the caffeine to keep going because we had to stop and charge the car for half an hour since the traffic was so bad it drained the battery more than we expected. We couldn’t go to the closer Minute Clinic because they didn’t have an appointment available until late in the afternoon, so we had to go all the way to Tarpon Springs and had been up for a long time.

We got home, and I took Claritin, but my lungs were still tight, and I had other symptoms as well. I lost another pound and am now down to 155, been poopy, and feeling very wound up. That’s when it hit me that I had two problems. Yes, the Nasacort was wrong for me, but when I put my symptoms together, I realized my TSH had gotten too low. The only unusual thing was that my heart wasn’t racing like crazy. But I was warm, definitely having sleep issues, lung tightness, and anxiety. I had also been snacking on peanuts and thought my weight would jump back up, but it went down instead. Trust me, I never lose weight on peanuts and candy bars.

The night before last, I only slept 5 hours and 5 minutes after being up for around 20 hours. I had the same problem last night where as soon as I’d fall asleep, I’d either suffocate or snore myself awake. After being up around 20 hours again, I put the mouth guard in, grateful that I hadn’t ditched it, and it helped keep me from snoring and made it easier to breathe. So it wasn’t $60 wasted after all. This time, I managed to sleep 5 hours and 48 minutes, and I even napped for about an hour later on.

I’m still afraid to go to bed because I fear the same thing will happen. I’m scared I’ll be up forever, and that it’s going to take me a few attempts of falling asleep and waking right back up to finally fall asleep and stay asleep. The guard is ready to be thrown back in my mouth if worse comes to worst. I’m also sleeping with a nose strip. I started to fear this climate was backfiring on me and flaring up my asthma and allergies and that we’d have to leave. It’s definitely not helping my allergies, but I’m now 99% sure the lung tightness was from the medication I’m stuck with for life. I skipped today’s dose and will probably skip tomorrow as well until the anxiety backs off some more.

I think I’m feeling a little better now, but that’s what I thought at the end of yesterday and the day before, so I’m not assuming I’m out of the woods yet. It takes several days to feel better after an overload of levothyroxine, and well, nothing’s ever brief for me.

I messaged Rhonda, and it was frustrating because, unlike Galileo, I’m limited in how many characters I can send in a message, so I had to break it up into six messages. I updated her on everything, from the pulmonologist to the ENT to my latest crisis.

This is the second crazy crisis this year. I just can’t get a break, and sometimes I really wish I could just kill myself. After a decade of suffering so much, I really believe I’m doomed to suffer for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ll ever get a break where I don’t have any problems, feel well, and sleep well for any extended time. Hell, I can’t even go a fucking week!

I feel trapped because I can’t end it because of him. I would have ended my misery years ago if it weren’t for him. Not until he goes can I do that. So nearly two more decades of suffering.

I also asked Rhonda about the CPAP or a mouthguard. I looked it up and found that primary care providers can write prescriptions for CPAPs. Maybe a mouthguard is my best bet after all. I would need a referral for that. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take six months to get an appointment, and hopefully, they wouldn’t cancel on me.

The only thing I hate about not having Galileo is the waiting time to hear back from Rhonda. I just want to know what to do from here. Obviously, my dose has to be scaled back, but the question is how much? Should I do a mixed dose, skip when I don’t feel good, or go back to all 75s? There is such a fine line between helpful and hurtful with this fucking poison! I’m guessing Rhonda will want me to go to the lab or come in and see her. The problem is that the labs will be deceptive because I have to skip ASAP. As I’ve learned the hard way, if I don’t jump on scaling back right away, the problem only gets worse. The skip will reflect in my TSH right away, even though I won’t feel the effects for a while. So now I’m not sure if I ever really lost weight due to cutting sugar. I might have lost a few pounds, but after that, I think the medication ramped up, and losing the 10 pounds fueled the medication’s effects.

I felt so bad for Tom because he was up forever as well because I felt so shitty, but I’m forever grateful to him, of course. The poor guy kept waking up with leg cramps, so he had to get up to drink fluids each time.

There’s more to update on, but I’m running out of energy, so I’ll have to do it tomorrow. Hopefully, I can make it to 7 hours of sleep before being up for 20!

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pergaias · 4 years ago

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soon we’ll be home ; pt. i

umm here i am with more writing ?

here’s a short story i wrote based off of almost home by mxmtoon, innocent by taylor swift, and never grow up by taylor swift ; um, i personally adore it - maybe i’m just biased, but i love the emotions and descriptions in this :))

i hope you love it as much as i do !

word count ; 2470

When I was eleven years old, all I wanted to do was grow up.

They told me that I wouldn’t want to - being a child is … it’s the time of your life, Mama promised. She wore spicy-sweet citrus-blossom perfume and always-smudged eyeglasses that hung on long beaded strings. Mama was glittering smiles and woolen cardigans and a tired, sad sort of energy, like coffee that had been left to go cold.

Mama made a lot of empty promises.

And because of it, all I wanted was to grow. To me, growing up meant laughing with friends, going to bed past midnight, driving in a bright-red sedan - eleven-year-old me had an extensive vocabulary, even if I didn’t know how to properly apply it - kissing boys and wearing dresses and lipstick. Things that I couldn’t have back then. Things that I thought were only attainable if I was grown.

Why - why did I want it?

The coffee shop was filled with a droning buzz, the hum of university students up too late with too much caffeine in their systems. There was nobody coming to place orders, so I was leaning on my elbow on the bar, the smell of coffee and caramel syrup thick in my nostrils. No shouts of Emmie! As my friends - if they could be called that - barged in, eyes bright, cheeks flushed, scarves caught with snow.

Growing up had hurt. The realization that I wasn’t a child, that there was no place of retreat that I could go back to, that no one would comfort me or stroke my hair or hold me as I cried myself to sleep. It was easier in my lunch box days - when I believed in everything.

And everybody believed in me.

There was a tinkling, and the coffee shop doors open. My eyes snapped wide, and a group of people sauntered to the counter, coats dusted with snow and cheeks high with color from the cold. Strangers in red and green and gold, stories in their own rights.

I wondered what they were waiting for - it was obviously something more than a hot cup of coffee on a late, snowy night.

A mocha for the girl, extra whip. Green tea for another girl, who was picking at her chipping gel nails. Americanos for the two boys who were holding hands. A peppermint special - sorry, love, pumpkin spice is still on the menu. Oh, yes, I’ll take that.

My hands shook as I wrote names and orders onto cardboard coffee cups, the scent of tea and coffee and spices almost overwhelming for a moment. Growing up was like Mama’s candied orange peels, mostly bitter but sweet if you looked for it.

And I - well, I was too tired to look for it.

Vega was in the back, her colorful highlights barely visible under a black knit cap. Vega had a septum piercing, a tattoo, and a girlfriend at home. She was the kind of person Mama - and Papa, for that matter - would have told me to stray away from on the street, but the kind of person I secretly admired nonetheless.

Curvy, brunette Emerson Quinn-Whitley, the girl with the fake friends and shattered dreams and eyes the color of the coffee she made for minimum wage on a late shift, admiring an almost-delicate petite girl who did what she wanted when she wanted it, a girl with dyed hair and emotionless, luminous fox’s eyes, lips stained red with the blood of her conquests.

I shook the thought away. Vega was nice enough - Asian American, scholarship, hard worker, girlfriend at home, etcetera etcetera. I handed her the orders and leaned on my elbow again, my backpack full of shattered dreams, sleepless nights, and the sexy promise of an all-nighter.

Vega filled the orders, her thinly-plucked brows pressed tightly together in concentration as she drizzled something onto another something. The thought of why why why why why nagged me almost as much as the homework did. Why did I want to grow up? Why did I?

Because you were impatient, a sour part of my conscience nagged. Because you hated the rules your mother imposed on you, reminded another. Because you were waiting for Neverland, a different part sighed. A wistful picture painted behind my eyelids of a castle waiting for me to be queen, which slipped away like a tear down a cheek.

They didn’t tell you that all the love you give might not be enough. Was it when I had that epiphany that I grew up? A thousand possible moments, snapshots, memories, tinted dark like Polaroid photos.

The chatter in the room crescendoed as Vega finished with the group’s drinks, her usually brooding expression firmly in place as she pressed a pumpkin-spice-not-peppermint-mocha into a girl’s mittened hands and shooed her out the door.

Bad vibes, Vega mouthed at me, hazel eyes twinkling. Vega liked witchy things - crystals, detox tea, chunky jewelry and drapey black dresses. Vega had personality - you could see it on the rings on her hands, the swoop of her black, color-streaked bangs, the hand-painted night sky on her bookbag.

I tapped my fingers against the counter, counting minutes - seconds - until . . . what? Would a prince drop waltz through the glass door and offer me his hand? Would a fleet of owls - no, crows - no, how about peacocks, those sound cool - appear out of nowhere with summons for me, the lost heir, who had family and promise and a story, far far away?

If I wanted to grow up, this wasn’t it. I didn’t want to sit on a high stool behind a cash register, the smell of burnt coffee pressing in on me, the insufferable buzz of students doing homework droning on over the music playing slow and low in the background?

Our other employee, an unpleasant dudebro who went by Albie - his name, I had discovered, was Alberto de la Cruz the fourteenth or something - had chosen today’s coffee shop playlist. I had no idea who he was trying to drive mad first with the rapping; Vega and I, who bitched about his taste in everything from music to cars to girls - and one time, interestingly, tomato sauce, or our customers. They came here for cool beans and caffeine and classic rock or indie music, not Billboard’s Top 100 Rap Failures.

“Almost closing time,” Vega remarked, idly brushing an eyelash off of her cheekbone. She was tired - I could see it in the hunch of her shoulder and the tone of her already-husky voice.

I turned away from her as my head rushed to make excuses as to why I noticed that. Vega is dark chocolate and spellbooks, old bookstores and flickering chandeliers.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice as droning as it was tired. “If coffee could power me the way it powered them -” I gestured to the students starting to slowly pack up their laptops and notes, their hours of free wifi, heat, and shitty music coming to an end, “I would have foreseen sleep in my near future.”

Vega cackled. She didn’t have a laugh - she cackled, wheezed, snorted. It was equal parts entertaining and annoying, especially when you were working with scalding-hot espresso and your coworker started honking like a demented goose next to you.

“That was a good one, Quinn-Whitley,” she barked, a gleam in her eyes. She was emotionless when she made coffee, and only talked to me around closing time and during lunch. I liked to think that I was the only one who got to see this side of her - probably high, very very gay, and incredibly enthralling. Vega was a story that I wanted to read.

I half smiled, preemptively untying my coffee shop apron and haphazardly hanging it on a hook. As much as I disliked working at the coffee shop - which had, ironically, been a vaguely romantic, soft sort of fantasy when I was younger - it was comforting, in a way. Comforting in the way the smell of coffee brought you back to when you were nine and your mother had a mug curled in her hands, staring out the window as rain pattered on its panes.

The last of the coffee shop’s patrons gloomily filed out, coats turned up to block out the wind, and Vega and I silently closed up, making coffees for each other, muttering don’t tell Carney - Carney was the shop owner - pressing day-old muffins into each other’s hands, Vega rolling her eyes as I hastily stuffed another bite of pastry into my mouth.

Leaving the coffee shop was routine. I’d scuff my boots along the lightly-snowed-over pavement, Vega would put her headphones on and tune out the world, and I’d drag her out of the way if she veered into some poor unsuspecting soul’s way.

“Vega!” I exclaimed, dragging her across the street. Her eyes were closed, her dark-red lips moving along with the song, completely blissed out. Or maybe she was just that sleep deprived.

Vega and I had the same student housing building, but other than that, I knew nothing about her - not really, but I wasn’t a stalker-watcher-psychopath or anything - yet Vega wasn’t heading to the gothy, romantic brick building. I described too many things as ‘romantic’ nowadays.

Growing up had been romantic, too - the idea of being on my own, making my own decisions, getting taller and more voluptuous, as if my flat-chested boyishness of sixth grade was the root of all my problems. ( Spoiler alert, Younger Emmie - they weren’t. )

“Vega,” I said again, pulling at her coat sleeve. Her eyes were half-closed, her headphones firmly over her ears. I was getting exasperated - every night as we walked back, she zoned the world out. It was admirable - I was paranoid and hyperaware of everything around me, the opposite of slim, petite Vega in every way.

But she opened one of her luminous hazel eyes, lashes dark against her cheeks, and beckoned me forward. Towards the river.

“Come on, Emerson!” she laughed, and I was stunned. Vega Zhao was dark chocolate and mysterious smiles, dark loose dresses and the fringe of a woolen scarf. She didn’t laugh or smile wide or drag me down an icy street to an equally icy river.

“Vega - what?” I said weakly, still holding onto the sleeve of her crowlike coat. She rolled her eyes. Beckoned me again. Didn’t take her headphones off.

She had always been strange - the brooding, emotionless expression. The personality in her clothes and makeup and hair, but not in her unless we were on break. Vega was a mystery, a novel that was still being read.

And I think I had gotten to the plot twist.

She carefully clambered over the low stone wall over to the rocks that made up the riverbank, me a few moments behind her like a beanie-bedecked, anxious shadow. It was late, I was tired, my homework a constant thought in the back of my mind.

Vega was taking her dark coat off now, revealing an equally dark shift dress over a short-sleeved white shirt. She slid her headphones off now, stuffed them into the coat pocket, reached for my hand. “Come on, Quinn-Whitley!” she repeated, as if she were inviting me to a bakery - or better, an alternate universe where my essays were already written - and not to an icy river.

“Vega,” I said hesitantly, trying not to blush as she took my hand. “What - what’s going on?”

Vega’s eyes only glowed, luminous hazel, like the harvest moon at its peak.

“You don’t believe in fairy tales, do you, Emerson Quinn-Whitley?” she said, her husky voice taking on a strangely melodic quality.

“What did fairy tales do for me in the end?” I snapped, my voice surprisingly sharp. There was bitterness behind that statement, so much that my tongue could almost taste it. My once-golden dreams crumbling away when Mama left, when Papa’s hand made a claw on my shoulder. When nights reading in bed dissolved into studying in tears, screaming into my textbooks because I wasn’t good enough.

Vega’s eyes darkened, almost sadly. And then she waved her hand over the ice-frozen river and stepped in. Winked at me, held out her slender hand invitingly, and disappeared.

“VEGA!” I screamed, reaching out. But it was like she was there and gone, like she’d slipped away in a moment in time. Somehow, between blinks or heartbeats or breaths, she simply vanished.

The water still glowed where she stepped in, gold and amber and almost warm. Emerson, Emerson, Emmie! it seemed to call. My mother’s voice on the day of the first frost, Emmie, I can smell the pumpkin spice in the air! My father’s gruff baritone, grudgingly admitting Emerson, you - you did well.

And then Vega. Quinn-Whitley. Step in the goddamn portal. Live a little, Emerson.

I stepped back from the shimmering water, fear holding me back and fatigue making me question everything in front of me.

Do you believe in magic?

You don’t believe in fairytales, do you?

Soon we’ll be home, Emmie. Soon we’ll be home.

A cacophony of voices. Everyone I had ever loved, gone. All gone. Were they ghosts? Was this river a swirling cumulation of every broken dream, every shattered hope, every happy memory that faded in time like the fading of bright autumn leaves?

Soon we’ll be home.

But where was home, my home? I was Emerson Quinn-Whitley with the divorced parents, the mother who was glittering smiles and woolen cardigans and coffee left to go cold, the father who was the smell of brandy and ice-chip eyes and bear hugs that filled you up like hot cocoa. I lived at a gothic-romantic dorm with three roommates and a mountain of homework. Where was home?

I didn’t know that growing up would come and meet me. Wishing on a star, waiting for a glorious daydream to take me away into its world of glittering gowns and sequinned smiles, a world where all my worries melted away.

I crept closer to the patch of water where Vega vanished, and first it was like a mirror - my round face with its worried eyes and smattering of freckles - and then like a birds-eye view of some other place. Vega in her white shirt and black dress, trees with leaves the color of pumpkin and spice.

Behind me, a group of drunken strangers passed the river, wearing red and green and gold. I wondered what they were waiting for - a shooting star, a cab driver to take them away?

What was I waiting for? I liked to think that I’d grown away from the fairy tales that I had lived by when I was a child. But maybe everyone had to be a child sometimes.

I took a deep breath, briefly closed my eyes, and stepped in.

Soon we’ll be home.

#cece writes #soon we'll be home #short story #writing #sorta a songfic ?#please don't let this flop i love this one

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