#maybe for that upcoming week ;3 in my birth month too!!!

[sunnymainecoon]

This is kind of what I'd like to call a scribble drawing

I just mess around bc I'm lazy ;3 best way to finish drawings tbh

I hate backgrounds with all my life I hope they die

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 3 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 6.6k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 3 ► guess my fairytale has a few plot holes

It was eight in the morning when the tour bus arrived in Krakow, and everyone was in a good mood.

The day was beautiful and the excitement of starting the tour was still very prominent, so even the heavy sleepers, who could have slept through a hurricane and merely flinched during an earthquake – that is, Yoongi and Jungkook – both went out to stretch their legs and get coffee when the bus stopped at a gas station.

You observed everyone with Namjoon and Hoseok, until the two of them got too engrossed in a conversation about Rated Riot’s upcoming album—especially the demo song that Hoseok had sent Namjoon just before leaving for tour, even though the label wasn’t expecting a new record for, at least, eight more months.

“I brought most of my equipment,” Namjoon was saying. “So, if you want to see how the song might sound, we could get together and work on it.”

“Yes,” Hoseok agreed right away, then turned to you. “How many days until our first hotel stay?”

“About a week,” you said, looking back at the bus behind you. “Do you want me to check specifically? My phone is insid—”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. A week’s—a bit long,” Hoseok turned back to Namjoon. “You think we could record on the bus?”

“If it was empty, maybe,” Namjoon said, bringing his index finger to his chin. You lifted your eyebrows as you listened to him. “Should we stop somewhere and have everyone get out, so we could record? Could we even do that?”

You were mildly surprised by their determination, considering that the tour bus had terrible acoustics. Not to mention, even empty, it was a whirlpool of various noises: the rattling of the window shades, the whirring of the mini-fridge, the clattering of the mugs by the sink.

“How about you set up a recording studio at the next gas station we stop at instead?” you joked, but the two of them exchanged looks as if they were genuinely considering this. Quickly, you clarified, “guys, no. Could you wait just a little bit? Concentrate your creative energy into writing for now, or… maybe find a studio to rent for a few hours?”

“Ah, that might work,” Hoseok said thoughtfully. But just as he was about to add something, Namjoon nodded his head at the scene in front of you three: Jungkook and Taehyung were running away from Yoongi after having, evidently, just stolen his last cigarette.

Yoongi was yelling incoherent curses at the two as he chased them to the corner of the gas station and then paused to catch his breath. While Jungkook took a drag behind Taehyung’s back, Taehyung offered Yoongi his own pack of cigarettes and sprinted away as soon as the older member took it from him—because the pack was empty.

With another tirade of curses at the ready, Yoongi immediately broke into a run after them again. You could still hear the younger members laughing as they rounded the corner.

“Idiots,” Namjoon commented warmly.

You watched the chase in front of you with a small, wistful smile—this felt a bit like you were on a school trip. And this feeling was amplified when the school bully prototype in the form of a twenty-six-year-old man, Sid, stopped in front of you. He was, actually, called Isidore—for his grandfather—and you wondered if calling him by his birth name would make him disappear, like an exorcism of sorts.

“Hey,” Sid said. Then, he glanced—somewhat awkwardly—at Hoseok and Namjoon, and nodded curtly at them, before looking back at you again. “Could I speak to you?”

You’d have rather jumped in front of an oncoming truck that was driving past you on the highway.

You looked at the two boys next to you for help, but they both lowered their eyes, suddenly very entertained by the pavement under their boots.

“Sure,” you were forced to say, but tried not to make your irritation too obvious on your face. You prided yourself on being diplomatic. And, in any case, Sid hadn’t technically done anything obnoxious yet—but you knew him well enough to expect it.

The two of you walked further away from everyone else together—three other people could have fit between you as you walked—and Sid stuffed his hands in his pockets, seemingly looking for a way to start the conversation.

“How was the show last night?” he chose to ask.

“Great,” you replied, although it probably made no difference to him. “How’s Minjun’s jetlag?”

“Great, great,” Sid repeated, likely not even paying attention to your follow-up question. That was all the better for you; you didn’t really care about his answer, either.

Another few meters later, he stopped walking and looked over his shoulder to make sure that no one else was close enough to overhear—no one was. You and Sid were partially hidden by one of the buses.

“So…” he started. “Did you notice anything weird about Jungkook lately?”

Now you started to care.

You turned your whole body to face him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know.” He shrugged. “Irrational behaviour? Maybe moodiness? I don’t know.”

Your frown deepened, yet you hesitated with your question. “What… are you talking about?”

Sid’s smile spread—it was your surprised pause that gave you away. “You did notice!”

You’d already suspected that Sid would know something about Jungkook’s weird behaviour; now his grinning mug seemed to confirm it.

“Well, he’s on tour,” you tried to rationalize. “Of course, he’d act differently.”

“I mean, of course.” Sid nodded with exaggerated sympathy like he was just trying to be nice, but he knew that your reasoning was completely wrong. “But it’s probably even harder for him now that he’s single again.”

He was nearly soaring when he saw the surprise on your face.

“What do you mean, ‘again’?” you asked. The last formal relationship, to your knowledge, that Jungkook had had was a while ago—and, conveniently, you happened to be the one he had dated. He didn’t have time for relationships now. At least, that was what you’d assumed.

“Ah, see, I told him that he should talk to you about this, but I knew he wouldn’t. That’s why I’m doing this,” Sid said, finding himself very noble. He made an effort to look hesitant, even uncomfortable. But you saw the twitch of his lips when he spoke, “Jungkook was dumped four days before the flight to Prague.”

The engine of the bus behind Sid started as soon as he said this, so you weren’t sure if you flinched because of the unexpected noise, or because of the unexpected news.

“Someone,” you said, “broke up with him?”

“Yeah,” Sid confirmed, his face contorting into a pitiful grimace that looked about as fake as everything else about him. “They were together for a few months, which isn’t much, but he said the relationship meant a lot to him. He said it was something different, you know? So, I’m really surprised he didn’t tell you.”

Again, he mentioned the fact that Jungkook kept this from you—really rubbing it in your face—and you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your eyes on his.

“Mmhm. Right,” you said. “And that’s why he’s—?”

“Yeah.” Sid was nodding before you finished the question. “I’m only telling you about it because I’m worried.”

“You’re worried,” you said, finding this even harder to believe than the fact that Jungkook was in a serious relationship with someone and didn’t think it was important to inform his manager. “Why?”

“Because of what he might do,” he explained. “You know how obsessed he gets when he’s in love with someone.”

This was an obvious allusion to your own relationship with Jungkook, and you finally looked away to process this. You missed the smirk that appeared on Sid’s face when he noticed your rapid blinking, but you didn’t need to see his arrogance to know that it was there; you could already hear it every time he opened his mouth.

There seemed to be another reason for his spiteful satisfaction: he wasn’t just boasting about knowing more about Jungkook than you did. He was, as it seemed, also boasting about Jungkook being in love with someone else—so much so, that he’d prioritise this person over everything else, apparently.

“What are you implying, exactly?” you spoke up after a minute. “You think he’ll leave the tour?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I hope not. I know how much this means to him,” Sid said and you tried to look past his saccharine words, tried to discern if he was just trying to bite you, or if this was something you should have been seriously concerned about. “But with Kihyun’s wedding in a few days…”

Here, you needed another minute to connect the dots.

You knew that your old friends, Kihyun and Chloé, were getting married soon—they’d invited you and Jungkook to the wedding. But you both already informed them that you couldn’t make it to the ceremony somewhere in Western Europe. It was so long ago, you could no longer remember the precise location. You’d even sent them a gift already.

Naturally, you were doubtful. “Why would he care? He said he’s not going to the wedding.”

“Well, yeah, but easy for him to say when he’s a continent away, you know?” Sid replied. “Now that he’s in Europe, it’s different.”

“How is it different?” you asked. “The band’s got back-to-back shows. We’ll be in Poland, and the wedding’s—in Italy?”

“Paris.”

“Right,” you said. Of course, Sid would know this. He’d come to talk to you fully prepared.

“Well, he will have a free day, you know,” he continued and you frowned. You hadn’t memorized the band’s full schedule, but you didn’t like the possibility that Sid was right. “So, I’m just worried he might end up going there, after all. He knows his ex will be there, so, you know… Maybe he thinks they can get back together, I don’t know.”

All the “you know” and “I don’t know”’s in his speech did not make it easy for you to tell how much truth there was to his words: how much did Jungkook really care about this? How much should you have cared?

There was another thing too – if this ex was invited to the wedding of your old friends, then, chances were, you would know this person, too. So, wouldn’t that mean that Jungkook would have even more reasons to tell you about his relationship?

And, to make this even more difficult, Sid looked very pleased—like he was showing off. But there could have been countless reasons for that, too: because he was proud that he knew more than you, because he was lying, because he caught you off-guard… Then again, you didn’t exactly look at him much. Maybe he always looked like that.

Unsettled, you only nodded. “Hmm.”

“I mean,” Sid snickered, “the last thing he needs on this tour is a toxic relationship, am I right?”

You thought Sid was the toxic relationship that Jungkook had on this tour, but you only hummed again, saying, “you probably are.”

“Yeah,” he said with a compassionate sigh that sounded like plastic fruit did when you bit into it. His eyes were full of pity, too, but there was not one ounce of honesty in them—he didn’t feel bad about any of this. “I’m just letting you know, so you’re not left in the dark. Sorry he didn’t tell you.”

“You don’t need to apologise on his behalf,” you said, your tone surprisingly strict. You hadn’t meant to let your feelings show—childishly, you thought that if he could see how flustered you were, he’d win. You didn’t realise how much you resembled Jungkook in this regard.

“No, I know. I just feel bad,” Sid lied further. You clenched your fists. “You guys seem close. Guess he didn’t think it was important enough to tell you.”

You almost scoffed at this—close? You were his manager. This had nothing to do with you being close. But, of course, Sid needed another reason to feel superior.

“Right. Guess so,” you said and, with a sharp inhale, decided to end this conversation. “I have to go check something, but, uh, thanks for the heads up.”

“Oh, no problem!” he called out as you began to walk back towards the tour bus without waiting for his response.

Sid knew he got you. Taking you to the wedding had to be the easiest way for Jungkook to win this bet. He was confident that he’d just made sure that wouldn’t happen.

Namjoon and Hoseok both immediately noticed the distress on your face when you walked past them, but you ignored their concerned questions, assuring them both that there was nothing you couldn’t handle.

You entered the bus to find your phone. You wouldn’t confront Jungkook now, but you needed to see how big the gap in the band’s schedule was, to conclude if he could, realistically, make it to this wedding.

Most unfortunately, you calculated that he could. As soon as this show was over, Rated Riot would go to Warsaw, and then they had a free day before the concert in Berlin. If he travelled overnight, he could go to Paris and back in this time.

Unless Sid lied.

You couldn’t see the point, but it wasn’t above him to lie about things for no reason. You found yourself hoping that this was one of those times. Because drifting off-schedule so early in the tour was far from ideal, of course.

And not because you weren’t sure—and this uncertainty was unexpected—how the thought of Jungkook being in a serious relationship with someone made you feel.

Jungkook had, truthfully, forgotten to worry about the bet when he woke up this morning. And then right before the soundcheck in Krakow, Sid and Minjun showed up to the band’s changing room, with a reluctant Jude in tow.

His friends must have known that he was the only one still here (although Jungkook could see that Hoseok had left his phone, so he expected him to come back), and they felt comfortable to immediately settle in the otherwise empty room.

“What’s up?” Jungkook nodded at Jude. “You look hungover.”

“He’s allergic to Europe,” Minjun replied—he’d only landed here last night, but he already looked tired and about ready to go home. “Been sneezing since last night. Even the airport security got worried when they picked me up.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Jude said, plopping down on the settee by the wall. “My head feels so full. My eyes hurt. I’m definitely allergic to something.”

“Maybe it’s you,” Sid pointed at Minjun with a grin. “You’re the one who flew in yesterday, and he started to sneeze right after.”

“Or maybe it’s your bullshit,” Minjun countered—he was one of the few people who could keep Sid on his toes without using violence. “Or your cologne. You know you’re only supposed to spray it once, maybe twice, right? No need to bathe in it.”

Even Jungkook snorted. A powerful whiff of some exaggerated woody scent—the sort that came in a black bottle with large golden lettering—had filled the room as soon as Sid entered.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked. “I thought you were going sightseeing.”

“We are—” Minjun started to say, but then paused when he tried to sit down next to Jude, and he sneezed again. “Seriously, man. Go to urgent care.”

“I’m fine,” Jude waved his hands around, while Sid laughed—the more chaotic the atmosphere in the room seemed to get, the more amusing he found it.

“We’re here to cheer you on. Why else?” Sid said, throwing a fist in the air. There was a perpetual shit-eating grin on his face. “There’s already a line of people outside. Those VIPs?”

“Yeah, probably,” Jungkook said and then realised the implication. He warned, “leave them alone. Or my management won’t let me live.”

Sid’s grin widened—clearly, he took that as a compliment—and he sat down next to Jude, leaving Minjun standing awkwardly by the settee.

“Speaking of,” Sid said, “did you already ask said management out on a date?”

“Not yet,” Jungkook said. He didn’t suspect anything from Sid’s question alone—and he didn’t catch the glimmering excitement in his eyes. “But don’t worry about it.”

Sid was not at all worried. He never was.

“See?” he said. Jungkook lifted his head to see Sid looking at Minjun. “Told you he agreed.”

Jungkook’s gaze shifted to Minjun in confusion.

“He didn’t believe me when we told him you agreed to the bet,” Sid explained. “He said this wasn’t something he’d expect from you.”

Jungkook frowned. He liked to think that he didn’t care about the opinion of his friends that much, but he wouldn’t have agreed to the bet if he really didn’t. Now he found himself irritated that Minjun, seemingly, disagreed with this decision.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asked him, but Minjun only shrugged.

“It’s going to get messy,” he said. “I figured you’d be able to see that.”

“It’s not going to get messy,” Jungkook replied with a pretentious roll of his eyes. Of course, on some half-conscious level, he knew that it could get messy. But he trusted his ability to control this, so it wouldn’t get out of hand. “It’s just a date, it’s no big deal.”

“You—” Jude started to say and then sneezed, continuing in agitation, “fuck me. You dated for three years.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook grabbed a tissue from a box on the table by the mirror and walked over to Jude. “And we’re broken up for four. This means nothing, and you’ll see that I’m right when I win this bet.”

Sid shook his head as he sang, “she’s not going to agree…”

“She will,” Jungkook insisted. His agitation was growing, because no one in this room knew you, not like he did—so, what right did they have to make assumptions? He said, “I’ve known her for years. She won’t think much of this, either.”

Minjun looked deeply uncomfortable. He didn’t say anything else, but every time Jungkook glanced at him, he could see the way his friend cringed into himself, sliding his hands into his front pockets and pacing awkwardly around the clothes rack.

It was the first reality check for Jungkook—one of many, but he naively did not foresee that.

If Minjun—who, despite being smarter than everyone else in this room—was still Sid’s friend, yet seemed disturbed by this bet, then Jungkook wasn’t sure if he was ready for what you’d think—what you’d do—if you found out about this.

Maybe he was too prideful when he asserted that he knew you the best. Maybe he only liked to think that he did, but all that he anticipated from you was hopeful more than it was certain. He hoped you wouldn’t think of this as a big deal. But, he realised now by watching Minjun, that your reaction might not be so casual, after all.

“Yeah?” Sid challenged, breaking Jungkook out of his head. “Well, let’s see, then. You’ve got plans for how you’re asking her out?”

Jungkook turned away to grab a water bottle from the table that he’d been leaning against. “Maybe.”

Sid was a very good actor as he jumped on the couch, feigning excitement.

“Well, shit. Spill!” he encouraged. His leap had caused a flurry of dust to go up into the air and Jude managed to groan before he started to sneeze again. Sid added irritably, “if Jude would shut the fuck up, we could give you feedback.”

“Get fucked,” Jude mumbled, blowing his nose into the tissue Jungkook had given him.

“Dream on,” Jungkook replied with a sneer in Sid’s direction. “I’m not asking you out, not even as practice.”

“You piece of shit,” Sid said, his tone boisterous. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Alright then,” Sid went on grinning, not the slightest bit unphased by this. Jungkook, clearly, didn’t know the lengths Sid was going to take—and had already taken—to make sure he won the bet. “When should we expect the keys to the Katana?”

“Oh, did you mean the money you’ll be paying me?” Jungkook deflected. This bickering drove him further from his previous concerns about Minjun’s reaction and more towards the thrill of it all—taking you out on a date and winning against Sid. “Have it by the end of tonight. I’ll talk to her before the show.”

“We’re only paying if she actually goes with you on a date,” Sid reminded him. “Just agreeing to it means nothing.”

“I know. And I’m saying, have it ready.”

“Have what ready?” Hoseok asked, entering the changing room so unexpectedly that all four boys inside it flinched. Neither of them had heard the door open.

“Nothing,” Jungkook replied before one of his friends could. “Discussing our plans for after the show. What’s up?”

“Jin says we’re good to go in five,” Hoseok said. “And I left my phone here.”

“Oh, right.” The younger member reached for the device on the far corner of the table. “Here.”

Then, Jungkook looked back at the rest of his friends – all of them looked like schoolchildren after the teacher returned to the classroom. He felt glad, he realised, that they were staying quiet.

He didn’t want Hoseok or the others to know about this, but not because the bet was an exceptionally bad thing. He thought this was like anything else that he did with his friends. And, usually, no one approved of his other after-work activities—not even him, sometimes—either.

But, just like everything other thing that he did with Sid, this was a distraction more than it was anything else.

“Don’t be late,” Hoseok warned, not saying a word to the other people in the room before he left.

“We’re going to head out, too,” Minjun was the first who spoke up – but only after the door was closed. He seemed to make the decision for all of them, because Sid looked comfortable enough to stay longer, but he rolled his eyes and stood up after meeting Minjun’s glare. “Good luck at the soundcheck.”

“Yeah, and don’t worry,” Sid added, winking, “I’ll take good care of the bike.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and slapped Sid on the shoulder with his palm when he walked past him.

Jude stopped in front of Jungkook. He looked ready to say something, but then he inhaled deeply, as if preparing for a sneeze, and chose to just quietly leave instead.

“Seriously, go see a doctor if this persists,” Jungkook called after him before the door of the changing room closed.

Left alone, he shook his head and looked over his reflection in the mirror.

The bet was just a bet. He wasn’t doing anything significant anyway. Surely, if you knew, you’d think the same. You’d find it stupid, but he’s done worse things. This didn’t mean anything; it wouldn’t ruin your relationship.

It would be fine.

As soon as the soundcheck and the VIP Meet & Greet came to an end, you disappeared like you had last night in Prague, so Jungkook’s plan of getting this bet over with before the show tonight, backfired.

A part of him expected this, however, so he made sure to avoid his friends until he saw you after the show. He hoped that convincing you to go out with him (perhaps by appealing to your sentiments of seeing old friends? Or out of pity? He wasn’t sure which route he’d take yet) wouldn’t take long. Especially if he stressed how little this would mean—just a silly, friendly date.

Sid didn’t have to know about the “friendly” part of the whole deal.

Slowly, Jungkook allowed himself to think what he’d do with the $4000 that Sid and Jude would pay him—perhaps he’d tune the Katana—even though this wasn’t even about the money for him. Of course, the satisfaction of actually winning a bet against Sid would be worth five times the money that his friends would have to pay. But Jungkook was convinced that, more than anything, he just wanted to prove a point.

His friends had insisted he followed you like a lovesick puppy while you didn’t care. He wanted to show them that neither of you cared—in fact, you cared so little, that you could go on a date, and it wouldn’t have to mean anything.

Now, whether that was true, was a different thing, but he chose not to think of your touch—and his body reflexively responding to it—in his bunk the other night. He didn’t need to focus on that right now.

The performance in Krakow threw Jungkook completely off, however. This was Rated Riot’s first time in Poland, and the reception was unforgettable: all the faces of the people who sang along, who jumped when the band jumped, who reacted to every single note, every single lyric at the appropriate times and with overwhelming energy – Jungkook was positive his chest was going to burst by the time he got off the stage.

Even an hour later, after Rated Riot finished the show and met their fans, he returned backstage, where everyone hung out and did shots, and he could still feel the adrenaline in his blood.

That was how you found him – smiling to himself as he scrolled down Rated Riot’s Instagram page, checking all the posts that tagged the band tonight.

“You’re happy,” you pointed out, aware of the smile on your own face as you watched him.

Jungkook lifted his head and his smile widened at the sight of yours. He was practically radiating excitement. Chances were, if someone dimmed the lights in the room, he would have been glowing.

“Crazy,” he said. His voice was a little hoarse, but exhilarated nonetheless. “Feels like there are fireworks inside of me.”

You chuckled and took a seat on the settee next to him. You handed him a package of honey & lemon lozenges and a chocolate cupcake—the lozenges were for his throat, to make sure he was able to perform night after night, and the cupcake was to make sure he survived at all. He never ate anything before the shows, and the take-out you’d ordered was taking a while. It was likely you’d have to eat properly on the bus.

He took everything from you and put his phone down.

“It seems that the show tonight was even better than last night,” he said, peeling off the wrapper of the cupcake first. “I don’t know how that’s possible.”

“Imagine if that keeps happening after every show,” you said. “You might really catch fire by the last one.”

He snickered. Taking a mouthful of the cupcake, he hummed, “Can’ wai’ to find out.”

“Forty shows to go,” you said, patting the package of medicine. He nodded in acknowledgement. “Don’t forget to take it after you eat. I’m going to see how long it’ll be before we can go. And maybe call the restaurant. Perhaps our order didn’t go through.”

“Perhaps,” Jungkook mumbled half-heartedly, too busy chewing. Then, as he was watching you stand up, he suddenly remembered what he had to do. Swallowing so abruptly that the cupcake nearly got stuck in his throat, he jumped to his feet. “Actually, wait a second. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You turned around. “Yeah?”

He put the remaining half of his cupcake down and wiped his hands against each other to get rid of the crumbs.

“So, uh,” he began, wiping his mouth, too—more because of a nervous tick than any other reason. “Kihyun and Chloé’s wedding is the day after tomorrow.”

Your earlier conversation with Sid flashed through your mind and you felt dread gather on the floor of your stomach.

“I know,” you said slowly. “In Paris.”

“Yeah. I was—I mean, I know we both already said we wouldn’t go,” Jungkook continued. Unconsciously, you reached for the ring on your index finger and spun it around several times. “But I actually called Kihyun yesterday, and he said he’d love it if we came.”

You didn’t even notice the implication that he wouldn’t go to the wedding alone, that the two of you would go together. You were too focused on the fact that this was exactly what you were afraid of: not only did Jungkook plan this exactly like Sid had said he would, but he was, clearly, already taking action to make this plan come true.

“And, uh, Chloé didn’t mind?” you asked.

“No, they’re both very cool about it,” he said, proud—you weren’t sure of what: of his last-minute change of plans, or of your friends, who tolerated these changes. “So, anyway, I was thinking, why don’t you and I take a de-tour to Paris after our show in Warsaw? We’ll catch up again with everyone else in Berlin, and go back on the road.”

Now you noticed.

You cleared your throat, then repeated, “you and I?”

He nodded his head once, less certain. “Yeah.”

“Well...” You tucked your lips in and lifted your eyebrows. Your eyes concentrated on the loose tile on the floor by your feet. “I can’t believe Sid warned me about this, and I thought he was just being annoying on purpose.”

You’d mumbled this in a way that probably wasn’t meant for him to hear, yet Jungkook had never heard anything clearer.

Completely stunned, he tried, “Sid—he, uh… he warned you about this?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, unsure if you should have felt grateful to Sid for letting you know of this in advance—it was hard to imagine him ever doing anything that wasn’t for his own benefit. “Why didn’t you tell me you broke up with someone?”

Jungkook was fairly certain he gasped and not at all certain if the buzzing in his ear was tinnitus or if someone was really screaming in the distance.

“I didn’t tell—um,” he paused, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. You watched this obvious display of his dislike for the turn of conversation.

After a heavy minute—that the two of you stayed frozen as if someone had paused the scene, he asked, “what exactly did Sid say to you?”

“That you were in a relationship with someone, and they broke up with you before the tour started,” you recapped patiently. It was just the two of you in this corner of the room, so no one could have overheard, but you still lowered your voice just in case.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, his eyes still closed.

“And that you only want to go to the wedding because your ex might be there,” you added.

“Mmhmm,” he half-hummed, half-squealed. “I see.”

Hopeful that Sid had, at least, exaggerated, or, perhaps, you misunderstood something, you asked, “any truth to that?”

Aware that there was virtually no right response here, because you’d think he was lying or hiding the truth from you again, Jungkook sighed. There had never been any relationship, of course. You were the only girlfriend he’d had.

Fucking Sid. The cheating bastard was trying to sabotage him.

“I—” he started to say, and then stopped. There might be a way out of this, after all.

Maybe he could use Sid’s lies and make them work. Instead of convincing you to catch up with old friends at the wedding—which could take a while, considering how set you tended to be when you made a decision; and the decision here was, obviously, declining the formal invitation to the wedding—he could convince you to help him with his love life. Either way, you’d come to Paris with him, and Sid wouldn’t have to know why.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “Yeah. It’s true.”

All the hopes you’d had deflated in bitter disappointment. You couldn’t tell if there was more to it, a different reason, perhaps, why this felt so disheartening to you, because you instinctively focused on what mattered more at the moment.

“Jungkook,” you said with a groan. “What the fuck? This is the stuff you tell me.”

Once again, he was doing something that he did not bother to inform you about—how many more times were you going to have to learn about his misadventures from social media?

“Yeah, but, you know,” he spoke even though he didn’t know what he was talking about, “we broke up, so I didn’t think it was important to tell you.”

“It is important if it’s going to interfere with the tour schedule,” you replied, and your frustration worried him.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have said this. Perhaps he should have been honest – surely, you’d believe him if he told you Sid had lied.

Oh, but then he’d have to explain why Sid felt the need to lie to you. That fucking snake—

“It’s not going to interfere,” Jungkook tried again. “The wedding’s on my day off. That’s why I want to go.”

“And then what?” you asked, smacking your palms against your thighs – this got some looks from nearby crew members, but they were used to you arguing with Jungkook. Their interest in your conversation faded as soon as they saw that it was you two making noise. You continued hypothesizing, “let’s say you get back together. Are we bringing another person on tour? Or if you don’t get back together, then what?”

“Then,” he swallowed, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

You knew he’d say that, but you were still annoyed that he did.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you admitted. You didn’t like how personal this was starting to get. Your role as his manager was somewhere in the distance now, yet you thought you had to say this, “I’ve never asked any of you guys to put your personal lives on hold for the sake of the band, but I’m giving you my honest opinion. I don’t think you should go to this wedding.”

“But that’s why I’m asking you to come with me,” Jungkook argued, his voice eager. It all made sense in his head – you’d have to agree to come now, you couldn’t have him go off by himself.

You sighed, then gave him the benefit of the doubt, “why? What difference would my being there make?”

“Well, for one, you’d warn me if I was about to make a mistake,” he said, finding himself very smart and quick on his feet.

“I’m warning you now,” you countered easily, and his face fell a little.

“Right,” he said, momentarily hesitating, but trying not to panic yet. “But I don’t think that’s a mistake. Not if there’s a chance I might—well, you know. Get back together with the love of my life.”

He felt the cringing somewhere deep in his own chest and he hoped it didn’t show on his face. It definitely showed on yours.

“Is that…” you faltered, closing your eyes. “Is that really going to happen?”

He watched the deliberate way you chose not to look at him as you asked this, and he wondered—very briefly, even reluctantly—if there was a different reason why this relationship that he was, allegedly, in, disturbed you.

It could just be wishful thinking on his part, he supposed. And it likely was.

“I-I mean, we will be at a wedding,” he said after a moment. “Romantic. So, why not?”

You could see his point—and, most horribly, reuniting with someone at a wedding seemed to make sense—but you had to make him reconsider this. He’d always been spontaneous. You had to get him to think with his head, not his instincts.

“Don’t you think,” you tried, “that people break up for a reason? Because I do.”

He took this personally, but he hoped it wasn’t obvious. At least, not in a way where you’d realise that he wasn’t at all concerned about his non-existent relationship with someone else. Because, of course, he was really concerned about his non-existent relationship with you.

“You… don’t believe in second chances?” he asked.

“Not really,” you said. Contrary to him, you didn’t need to think too much about this. “They’re only an opening for third and fourth chances.”

Swallowing, Jungkook tried to disagree, “well, not necessarily…”

“I don’t know about your situation,” you said bitterly, “because you’ve literally never mentioned this until now. So, I’m just saying what I think. And if you’re still going to do something stupid, then do you really need me there?”

“I do,” he said straight away.

“No—” you huffed, then tried again, putting it straight this time, “Jungkook, I’m not going there as your babysitter.”

“You’re not,” he agreed. “You’re going as my date.”

He had hoped he’d really done something by saying this – perhaps made your heart flutter? He even smiled as he said it, so sure that this would be what makes you change your mind.

But your face remained stoic as you shot back, “right. Because bringing a date would make it much easier for you to get back with your ex.”

Taking a moment to recuperate, Jungkook brought a hand over his hair, his fingers lingering at the ends of his wolf cut. Nothing was going well for him, it seemed, and he couldn’t help but remember Minjun’s earlier discomfort again.

He knew now that his arrogance of knowing you for so long had blinded him, and the reactions that he expected from you were merely reflections of his own. Of course, you wouldn’t go to Paris with him. He hadn’t given you a single good reason to go.

Nearing desperation, he said, “look, just… trust me? Let’s go there and see. Maybe it’ll be enough for me to see all these people that I used to know—that we both used to know—and I’ll change my mind.”

You were half-scoffing, half-yelling at this point, “you went from getting back together with the love of your life, to changing your mind in the span of two minutes! Don’t you think it’s a sign that you shouldn’t be even considering this?”

He exhaled sharply, frustrated.

Nothing. There was nothing else that he could say now.

He fired the last shot—the one he didn’t want to use, because he thought he was better than that. He knew now that he wasn’t, as he said, “I could go with Sid, Jude, and Minjun.”

This brought you two to a standstill: either you convinced him to forget about this and just stay on tour, even though you hadn’t been successful at that so far, or he got you to come to Paris with him, instead of his friends.

And he could see that you’d give in before you even said anything.

You knew he’d never come back in one piece if he left the tour right now for a one-day trip to Paris with his friends—if he’d come back at all.

Jungkook didn’t like how cunning he felt, though, as he watched you cross your arms and bite your lip, clearly disapproving of your impending defeat.

He wondered if it’d be any consolation if he admitted that this didn’t really feel like a win for him, either, even though just the fact that you’d come would mean he won the bet. He had still hoped you’d be more excited to do this with him.

Finally, after what felt like five whole minutes of silent battle as neither of you moved or looked at each other for longer than two consecutive seconds, you exhaled. It was a sigh of defeat, but not resignation.

“Fine,” you said. “If you must go, I’ll come with you. But you’re telling me everything about this relationship and why you think getting back together with this person is a good idea.”

“Sure,” he said, because he had to. He would come up with an excuse or a plausible enough story at his favourite time—later. “I’ll even book the train tickets to Paris myself.”

You didn’t think that was smart—the last time the two of you were planning a vacation together, he’d bought the tickets to and from Hawaii for the same night by accident—and you lifted your hand in immediate protest.

“Maybe I’ll—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he cut you off, grabbing his cupcake and his lozenges from the settee—to show you how responsible he was. Not enough to go to Paris with his friends, of course, but just enough for you to trust him. “I’ll take care of everything. You’ve done enough for me.”

chapter title credits: bring me the horizon, “in the dark”

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[jodilin65]

THURSDAY, JUNE 30, 2016 I was surprised to find my blog included on the list of Top 2016 Blogs. :) I learned this when I saw it was the referral page of one of my visitors.

Went to the pool just before 6pm. It was 100 degrees and desert dry. The water aerobics was just finishing up. I saw a woman (Debby?) I recognized from the afternoon aerobics that’s been here 7 years and met a couple that just moved in 2 weeks ago.

Here’s the shocking part… the pool is to be locked at 8pm due to vandalism. Here?!?! I guess maybe some kids were jumping the fence and cutting the locks, so they started using these cable locks. But why close the pool 2 hours earlier due to this?

Contacted a local rattery about their rats, but haven’t heard back from them yet. That’s too bad because I’m very hesitant to get any more rats from pet store chains. They simply don’t take the time to handle them enough from birth so that they’re not as shy.

Noticed that I’m not as hungry much lately, not that I’m complaining. I also noticed I haven’t had that intense PMS hunger in months where I’ll have a day or two before my period where all I want to do is eat yet I never feel satisfied. These days, however, I don’t know when it’s coming because it’s gotten erratic.

Still hear from the woodpecker every now and then in the early mornings. Fortunately, it can’t wake me up thanks to the sound machine I play during my sleep, but it’s annoying when I am up. It usually only makes a few pecks, but any more and I must shoo it away with a broom. During vacation, Tom’s going to blow leaves and debris from the roof. It’s after fallen seeds from trees and stuff like that.

So it took me 3 pillows to find the right one. Surprisingly, the longer bamboo pillow I got with shredded memory foam was harder to shape to my liking than the shorter one, so now I’m back to using that one, and that’s the one I’ll stick with. It’s ideal for all sleeping positions.

Although I know I won’t get a reply, I messaged Joan’s family and explained that I live in California now, was a student of hers, and would love to see any pics of her from the 70s if they had any.

Later…

So Holly must’ve seen my message on Facebook cuz now her friend list is invisible. Although I didn’t tell her or Shannan that I found Shannan through her list, she obviously put two and two together. Or she told Shannan she heard from me and Shannan said, “Funny, cuz so did I.”

Still kinda insulting if you ask me. Not replying to someone is one thing. Hiding like a coward is another. It makes a person feel almost feared for absolutely no reason at all, not to mention insulted. Maybe she just figured that if I could find her and her friends, so could others. But all I did was say hello to them. I didn’t stalk, harass and badger them. So why be so rude about it? It’s almost like she might as well have replied with, “Ew! Who the hell wants to hear from you? Go away! I’m gonna hide my friends from you now, you ugly, unwanted, crazy loon.”

It will be interesting to see how she acts the next time she cleans my teeth.

The more I see Aly bitch about the depression she tried to pin on me, the less I miss her

Contacted a local rattery this evening. Hope to hear from them soon. Really want to check them out over his vacation. One more day!

3.5 hours to go till Camp NaNoWriMo begins! Not very prepared, though. I mean I have a basic plot mapped out, but no real details as of yet. With this soft word count of 10K, that’s less than 400 words a day needed to hit my goal, so I’m not worried about it.

Shane is now fully finished. I shared it on Facebook with Tammy, but don’t know if I’ll share it elsewhere just yet. It’s over 16K.

How did Bob manage to get the blinds up over the garage window that faces the afternoon sun without waking me up? That’s like right outside the bedroom window, and I would think that would take some hammering, unless he drilled the hooks in.

I told Tom that I hoped he wasn’t trying to cool the garage for upcoming projects, and he said he doubted it or else he’d just throw an AC in the window. I’m surprised he hasn’t already.

The new people are still behaving, but that could be because of the heat. It’s safe enough to say the people next to them won’t be a problem, but it’s still too soon to judge them.

Started the only diet that seems to work for me, once again, due to waking up at 154.8. That’s getting a bit high for me. Wish I knew the magic number I could safely diet down to without my meds backfiring on me, though if it were under 120 it wouldn’t matter. I’m more interested in not being so damn fat than I am in getting “skinny.” I’m probably a size 14. Well, I don’t need to be a size 3 again, but somewhere between 8-10 might be nice. It would give me a little more mobility.

I had a dream I was running across the street and opening a mailbox the size of a round Pringles potato chip can. In it was a tennis ball. I shut the “mailbox” door and raced back across the street. A young Hispanic man grinned at me lustily and I found it odd being a fit but aging fatty.

Then a delivery truck pulled up with only 1 of 3 (coloring books?) I ordered. Tom took the one that was handed to him and told the guy that we were expecting 3.

For some reason, I thought the guy might turn violent and I wanted to be prepared to try to fight if need be, so I slipped on a pair of long bright yellow pants that were skin tight and totally see-through.

But then the guy left and I told Tom that we better stop using “off-brand” delivery services and just stick to the well-known companies.

In the last dream, I was floating on this thick gross mossy “raft” on a pond somewhere. Something dangerous, though I don’t know what, lurked in the waters and I was afraid the makeshift raft would sink.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 29, 2016 I was watching the 90s movie Flowers in the Attic. I’ve read the book and seen the movie but watched it anyway since it had been a long time. I thought of how the evil grandmother reminded me of Joan Bowe, a 5th-grade teacher in the elementary school I went to that I had a “crush” on, or whatever the proper word is for being just 10 years old at the time and therefore totally non-physical. I might have even been as young as 8 when I first saw her.

So out of curiosity I ran her name and found she JUST died last month. Wow. This is the first obit I ever saw that gave the cause of death – dementia and diabetes.

My mind then reflected on some 40-year-old memories. She hated me. She would never dare say as much, but looking back on it now, I’m sure she must have at least a little bit. In modern times she probably would’ve been quicker to catch on to why I was such an obnoxious kid and maybe even felt a bit sorry for me. But this was the 70s. Nobody felt sorry for kids that acted out due to their shitty upbringings. Your home life was private and you were expected to be “normal” in every sense of what the word meant back then. Yet I got on her nerves, acting out mostly for attention, and even called her a few times. Not to prank her, but just to talk, which eventually got back to my parents, of course. They ordered me never to call her again and I didn’t.

Mrs. Bowe was heavy but had a pleasant face and nice long dark hair. Interestingly enough, though, I never saw it down. She put it up every single day. Buns weren’t a big thing back then, so she sort of clipped it up with a large barrette. Never even wore it in a braid or a ponytail. Guess it wasn’t considered very professional back then.

I feel bad for the letter I sent her back in 2000 or so before the freeloaders really raked me over the coals. My main point was to point out what I just said; yes, I was obnoxious and I was sorry for that, but kids don’t usually behave in the way that I did without a damn good reason. One that’s no fault of their own. We’re responsible for our own actions as adults, but are we really as children? I don’t think kids are 100% responsible for their actions and behavior. Then again, sometimes not even adults are. If a man comes at me with a knife and I kill him for it, did they really leave me much choice?

It wasn’t pointing this out that I regret. I shouldn’t have mindfucked her while I was at it and said I dated her son just to shock and maybe piss her off. I never even met her son. The obit says he was married with 3 kids. I’ll bet she treated him similarly to how my mother treated my sibs and me. Mrs. Bowe was a very stern woman. No one really liked her.

The last time I saw her was at some teacher meeting at Williams Middle School. I was in grade 7 or 8. She was then around 40 and had cut her hair off.

In 1988 at age 49, she lost her 63-year-old husband. Damn, that’s a long time to be a widow!

RIP, Mrs. Bowe. You were a bitch, but a hard worker who probably had quite a bit of her own baggage to deal with.

I can’t stand to be on Facebook right now with all the daddy posts the girls are slamming on the feed. Ugh! I get it. I really do. I just don’t need the unwanted reminders/memories.

His obit said Lisa’s got a “life partner,” Michael Beebe. What happened to marrying Jasper?

Remembered that Aly could actually read my only public blog without me knowing it. I remembered last night that I tested and verified this for her not too long ago. She might not have been so quick to admit it but she always preferred to follow me on my-diary because I couldn’t track visitors there. Then she set things up so she’d appear invisible to my tracker when I dropped my-diary.

So much for me making Aly depressed based on the tweet I just read about how getting overlooked triggers her depression and how it’s hard being a newbie. A newbie where? shrugs Either way, I think she’ll always be depressed until she realizes that most of it comes from her, physiological or not, and stops blaming others for it. Yet she always does, sometimes directly, other times in a roundabout way. Sure, people can influence our moods; I just think she’s putting more of it on others when it should be on herself. But it’s her life, her moods, her choice. :)

LOL at her always having to repeat herself to Kim… as always. His fault or not, I hated having to do that with Andy.

Kim must’ve been really curious about Aly’s “real” and “happy” dream because she got her to elaborate even more on it. She said it was just her getting an email from me. How is it “unrealistic” to get an email from someone? Perhaps it’s because I don’t know her current email account. She changes accounts more than anyone I’ve ever known and I’ve always wondered why, too. Not judging, just curious.

Ask her what I said in that email, Kim. :)

I must be more psychic than Aly at least this time around because my ultrasound showed NO signs of plaque building up in my arteries – yay! It would explain why I had no nightmares warning me that trouble was amiss. If I have dreams warning me about others I would certainly get a heads-up if my own ass were on its way up Shit’s Creek. :) I was a little worried, though, cuz these people don’t usually call with good news.

So if the retrial is a bust I can tell the doc that I’m not only sick of the medicine drama and need a serious break from it, but I don’t have any plaque anyway!

The only negative is that we’re back to square one as to what’s making me dizzy. We’re still thinking it’s perimenopause-related. I had a nice week off, but it’s been bad again these last few days.

Tom may have a point when he suggests that my earaches could be allergies, which would also explain why it’s intermittent. I have no toothache on that side, and I do sometimes feel fluid draining in the very back of my throat that seems to come from that side. Afterward, my ear feels better. But why did it take nearly a decade after surgery to become an issue, and why does congestion make it ache? Damaged nerves from surgery? Inner ear tube issues? The problem is I can’t take decongestants just anytime I want to because they make me so drowsy. I don’t want to feel like napping when I go to work out or run out to the store. I just hope I feel good and well-rested for our vacation. Can’t wait!

I thought I might sleep shitty since I slept well the last time around, but I slept ok. Surprisingly, I only slept 6-7 hours the last two nights. Usually, I need 8-9 hours.

TUESDAY, JUNE 28, 2016 Happy birthday to Tom! Too bad he has to work today. He’s got 5 goals he hopes to accomplish by the time he hits his 60s next year. He wants to get to 200 pounds or less, get his blood sugar to 90, sell at least one computer program, do the floors we want to do, and get rid of those hideously ugly Cypress trees alongside the carport. Well, he won’t get rid of them, but whomever we hire to come and feed them to their wood chipper will.

The thought of him entering his 60s is a bit of a sad and scary thought to me, though I typically don’t consider one to be “old” until they’re over 65. Then again, I know it’s how the person feels and that age is just a number. Still, the 60s is a far cry from the 30s, which is where he was when we met. He was just about to turn 35 actually.

Later…

It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s a dead Bill G! I feel horrible for my nieces, but being the mean little shit he was to so many others, I can only say that I hope his suffering was immense and intense in the end.

I also hope Tom’s right in thinking that no, Tammy’s not still in love with him. I know we can’t help who we love, but I sure would wonder about her if there were still any lingering feelings other than for the girls’ sadness and at such a young age.

While the girls see him as their oh-so-wonderful daddy, I still see him as the guy that abused women and children and helped get me thrown in jail for daring to speak up about it. He never did a day in jail for his abuse, as he should have, while I did time for words on paper. God only knows what other people the freeloaders may’ve pissed off that sent things to them that were automatically assumed to be from me and therefore pinned on me.

Meanwhile, I slept really well (which means I’ll probably sleep shitty next time around), so if the dead can pick on the living, he hasn’t gotten to me yet.

Doc A’s office left a message at 5 o’clock asking that I call them back. I left the damn phone on the bathroom counter when they called and was in the living room. I know it’s pointless to worry about it now, but I couldn’t help but feel a stab of fear course through me. I also couldn’t help but remember Alison’s tweet about having a dream that scared her the day before my ultrasound. I know she was referring to me, but to the best of my knowledge, she has not been reading my blog at all.

If I’m up late enough I’ll have to call in the morning. If not, I wonder if maybe Tom should try to call and get information or not. I’m hoping that like he said they’re just calling to tell me everything’s okay, but that’s not the feeling I get, even though it doesn’t seem reasonable that they’d wait this long to contact me if something were wrong. It’s been almost 2 weeks since the ultrasound.

I’m having “normal” anxiety right now where I’m a bit shaky and feeling like I have to take a dump I can’t take. The kind I’d get in the hotel and trailer. My heart isn’t racing or pounding. Just slightly trembling hands and shaky breath, but I don’t feel like I’m suffocating. Just got a bad feeling. When are things ever that easy for me anyway? My ear’s been worse (especially laying down), I’m dizzy again, and well, something’s been determined to shit on my health these last 2 years, just like I feared it would if we got a nice place to live and were comfortable financially.

Oh, to go back to having my worst problems be getting rejected by someone I was interested in. Or wanting something I could never have. Or wanting to be something I could never be. I miss these so-called problems as opposed to worrying about my health and mind and how medication may affect it. I still worry about growing old, too.

If those who believe we’re not given more than we can handle are correct, then I’ve got to be “killed” with Tom or before he dies.

The reincarnation theory still makes no sense due to population fluctuations, and I think it’s still safe to say that the dead can’t influence the living. If they could, wouldn’t our loved ones influence more of us to win the lottery? And wouldn’t they help end or prevent our suffering? Think of a murder victim whose killer goes on to have a great life with all kinds of great things. Well, certainly they would see to it that they were miserable if they could, wouldn’t they?

But what I don’t know is whether or not there’s a God up there punishing me or why it would inflict me with so many issues if there is. Earaches and dizziness may not be as bad as kick-ass anxiety that leaves you feeling like you’re about to die, but it’s bad enough to make me wonder about things. Did I stab someone in the ear in a previous life if I had one? Or could it be that ant I stepped on in 1996 or something? I just wonder if I’m going to be forced to scramble to try to figure out one issue after another until I die. Yet so much of it remains shrouded in mystery. No ear doctor has ever helped my ear and no one’s ever told me why I’m dizzy. I can only guess it’s the perimenopause or my ear. I don’t think I have low BP or low blood sugar. I don’t think it’s anxiety either.

After thinking Aly wasn’t going to tweet today, she just tweeted that she’s back on iron shots. But is her blood cancer cured?

Also, I’ve been wondering if the dream Aly last tweeted about was positive or negative, and thanks to Kim, she answered that question. I can’t actually see Kim’s tweets as they’re protected, but it was obvious enough that she was asking about it just from Aly’s side of the conversation. Aly said it was “nice. Unrealistic but a happy dream.”

I love those kinds of dreams. I’ve had some pertaining to Nane, but most of the dreams I’ve had about Aly were either neutral or negative, to be honest. Would really love to know what that dream was that scared her because she too, has proven to have dream premonitions. She’s as intuitive as she is smart. Hoping that the fact that I myself haven’t had any questionable dreams is a good sign, though, but time will tell. As Tom, Tammy and Stacey always say… think positive and don’t worry about what isn’t actually happening yet, if it does at all.

Firecrackers sure are happening now, though. Sounds close too, like it could be in the park, but maybe not. Sound travels better at night. But why now? It’s not the 4th yet.

Anyway, a part of me feels guilty for following Aly’s tweets even though they’re public and technically anyone can see them. She’ll change accounts soon, though. She always does.

I don’t remember exactly when it was, but a while back I was the one to actually dump Aly. This was the first time I caught her being deceptive, though she promptly owned up to it, took total responsibility, and apologized. I quickly came to regret my decision to cut ties with her, realizing how much I’d miss her and how she has so much more good in her than bad, reached out to her, and we resumed our friendship. A part of me is hoping that she is or does eventually read this and does the same for me, but not expecting it.

I feel worse for how I handled her dumping me. I realize I shouldn’t have said and done some of the things I did, and while I’m truly sorry for it, I can’t go back and undo it either. Nothing’s changed… I miss her, I would take her back into my life even if I shouldn’t, but she has decided she’s totally sure she wants me out of it, so I’ll stay out and remember what others have told me… true friends are always there for us. Always. They may not always agree with us and they may voice their opinions at times, but they always love and accept us just the way we are.

They say that if we’re thinking of someone, they sense it and think of us too, if it’s someone we know. In other words, I can’t think of Kate Jackson and expect her to think of me in return or anything like that. Maybe I should make a point of thinking about Aly more. LOL, I’ve always wanted to “make” people dream of me. Only thing is that most of those people wouldn’t be happily skipping through a park with me or enjoying a nice chat with good food, know what I mean? I don’t want to chase Aly through a dark forest or toss her off a rooftop, but it’s nice (and kinda funny) for her to be reminded of my existence, the person she one day tossed aside.

Love reading about myself on the rare occasion I’m mentioned (that isn’t in an insulting way). I know it sounds funny as hell, but it’s almost like being in touch without still being in touch. I know I should let go completely and never ever look in on her, but it’s harmless and time will cause me to do just that anyway.

For now, I sometimes wonder if I should, well, not “fight” for her, but make one last-ditch effort to see if we can work things out and resume the friendship, but I feel I’ve been the one to play that role one too many times in life. I’d like to see someone fight for me for once. I just don’t want it to always be on me, you know? Yet the longer she stays away, the more I’m sure she really meant it when she said there was no going back.

As I’ve learned, never think anyone’s in your life to stay, cuz maybe they’re not. I wasn’t 100% sure that Aly and I would always be friends but I was in the 90s. They say, however, that in 7 years from now, we won’t have the same friends. Well, we were friends for 8 years, and I’m still friends with Christine, Adonis and Mitch, but many friends and acquaintances from 2009 are no longer in my life. Nothing bad necessarily happened with all of them; we just went our own ways.

Another thing I’ve learned is that cyber friends are just as “real” as face-to-face friends. They’re not just a name on a screen, but real people behind those names, avatars and profiles.

I’m still extremely hesitant to make any new friends, cyber or not. Yes, I miss getting to know different people from all over the world. But I don’t want the drama either. I may not be perfect myself, but I’ve been stalked, I’ve been lied to, and I’ve been hurt. I just need a break from any possible newbies/drama right now.

MONDAY, JUNE 27, 2016 Tonight I’m feeling a little dizzy and depressed. I still don’t get how I can miss someone who continually lied to me and then dumped me, but nothing lasts forever, right?

Death is on my mind again, probably because of the dying bastard back east. I’m thrilled that he’s dying. No one who can do the things he’s done deserves to live. I wonder, though… is he contemplating the afterlife? If he believes one exists, does he fear what lies beyond? Or does he believe he’s going to heaven to have one big happy eternal blast? Undoubtedly, he doesn’t believe he did anything wrong. Most abusers don’t.

Wherever he ends up, if there is an afterlife, I just hope he can’t have any influence on my “nowlife!” Many believe it takes a few months before the dead can affect the living, while others argue that they can do it right away because there is no such thing as time in the afterlife.

Anyway, I was thinking of Tom’s family. I miss having his family close by but still loathe how they gave up on us simply for having one too many rough times in life.

IDK, I just miss having local friends and family, but am also glad we don’t at the same time, if that makes any sense.

I REALLY miss the days when Tom was always home like he was during those 2.5 years, minus the Jes pest, his mutts and trailer, of course.

Later…

“Had such a real dream involving a former friend that I can’t help but wonder… There is no going back though.”

Last night I asked myself how I could miss someone who, as she herself admitted and apologized for, continually lied to me and then callously dumped me. When I read the second sentence of this rather interesting tweet, however, I realized there really is nothing to miss, is there? Yet I do. I miss checking in with her on Twitter, I miss her intelligence, and I miss swapping writing ideas with her.

I still don’t understand why I still feel hurt, and a little angry, over someone that clearly doesn’t give a shit about me and probably never truly did. Not if she could lie to me the way she did and make certain comments she never thought I’d see. So I asked myself…if you wouldn’t forgive certain people for what they’ve done to you, why her? The only answer I can come up with is that she didn’t screw me over nearly as much as some others have. There’s no comparison between what she did to me, as shitty as it is to be lied to by phony people, and what some others have done to me that cost me a world of emotional grief, freedom, money, lost sleep and a whole lot more. Seriously, it’s like comparing a little slap in the face to being viciously beaten over and over again with a bat. Well, Alison was that little slap in the face, though that slap still stings at times and I’d probably be dumb enough to talk to her if she contacted me.

I briefly considered and then changed my mind about contacting her because then she’d just do what she always does and deactivate her account and create a new one. She’ll no doubt do that soon enough anyway, but if I contacted her she’d do it even sooner. I like reading her tweets, though I can’t understand why. Maybe it’s because this is the most “honest” she’s been about me. If someone doesn’t think you’re reading them, then they tend to be more honest about what they’re really thinking of you. Believe me, Tammy would never write how awful I looked (unless she was pissed at me) any more than I would publically write, “Great to finally see my big sis as horrible as she looks.”

While I don’t think the blood cancer thing was one of her many lies, why no tweets about that and the chemo treatments, etc.?

She put a selfie on Twitter and Fitbit where she’s leaning a cheek on her fist. Great way to hide what’s no doubt a chubby face. She said Fitbit stretched it and made it look chubby. Maybe because she is? I’m not that active on Fitbit, but I’ve never known them to “stretch” pics, and the pic looks the same on Twitter. Seriously, I’ve seen pics of her from years ago and she was clearly heavy. Like as big as I am if not bigger. Yet I’ve never known her to describe herself as being fat and has said that obesity doesn’t run in her family. Could be in denial like Kim is about her own weight, but that’s their problem. I just write my observations and figure that if some can see themselves as fat when they’re not, maybe some see thinness where others see fat. At this moment I doubt she’s 150-152, which is my usual weight range these days. She’s probably between 120-130.

Good to know I’m haunting her dreams just like she’s haunted mine (LOL), though I haven’t had any of her recently. Would just LOVE to know the details of the dream, too. Maybe she’ll miss me a decade from now, read this and tell me.

I also have to wonder… Was I really that bad of a friend???

For dreams, I had very faint snippets of thinking I was hearing the voices of some guys that broke into our house, which didn’t look like our house, as usual, and something about taking a statin. I did it fearlessly, so it seemed, and I hope that’s a good sign. Really REALLY want that retrial to work!

SUNDAY, JUNE 26, 2016 Slept as horribly last night as I slept well 2 nights ago. After just a few hours of sleep, I woke up every other minute. So I took melatonin and lay there for quite a while before I finally returned to sleep.

Although the dizziness has been wonderfully minimal, I worry about it returning with a vengeance. It seems worse today, and as I learned years ago, few things are ever really quite gone forever. The past really does have a way of returning to haunt us.

Meanwhile, Bill’s in New England, not Florida. This I learned when Sarah & Becky posted that they’d flown up to him yesterday. So I guess the shitster’s days are numbered. I only wish it could have been me to kill him instead. Slowly. Very slowly. And painfully.

Those girls sure do spend a lot of time on Facebook despite the circumstances, and I’m sure Sarah will post another selfie that looks just like most of her others any time now.

Not passing judgment or anything, but I don’t get why some people pray for what can never be changed. You know, sort of like me praying to be tall. Some things just are, like it or not, and there isn’t really much we can do about it but accept it and try to make the best of it. Meanwhile, I guess it’s something for the believers to understand and me to wonder about, not that it really matters. They’re not harming anything. Harm is only done when we try to make others like us and force their minds and hearts to go places they just don’t want to go.

The AC had me worried yesterday. When I’m sleeping or doing something physical I set it to 76° and to 77° when I’m not. Well, when I saw the thermostat read 81° after setting it to 76°, I was really worried that something was broken and we’d have to go to a hotel. But Tom simply turned it off, waited a minute, then turned it back on. A few minutes later it was running just fine. Not sure what happened, but during the vacation we’ll have it checked out and given a Freon charge. Really don’t want to have to shell out 2 or 3 grand on a new unit right now when we’re still paying other things off. The heater crapping out would be one thing since we have portables, but there’s no substitute for the AC. Couldn’t help but think, though, that as much as a broken AC would suck, it sure beat feeling like I was having a heart attack and literally about to die.

The master bath’s drain plug pulled out of the sink. The metal stick in back that you pull up and down, I mean. Tom attempted to fix it but says he needs to do it when he has more time, like over the vacation. As I told him, it’s not necessary that I fill the sink to soak off nails. I can always pour soapy water into a Tupperware dish and do it there.

Played around with the sculpting clay last night and found I just couldn’t get into it like I hoped to and like I once could have. I can still sing, but for the most part, my artistic side has morphed into a technical side over the years. That’s ok, though. I enjoy writing, languages and tech stuff immensely.

In the middle of this dry 105-degree day, we decided to head out to Raley’s with the slow drivers and screaming brats. Well, we got hung up by our typical Cali creepers, but any kids we saw at the store were civilized.

Really wish they’d ban public smoking! Others may not give a shit about their lungs, but I care about mine. Go kill yourself at home, I say. But you know how our twisted laws are… feelings first, actual damage second. Secondhand smoke doesn’t “hurt my feelings” or offend me. It’s only bad for my body. rolls eyes I’ll probably never go to casinos again mostly due to that. Haven’t won much since our Vegas/Laughlin days anyway.

So we grabbed some things we needed at the store, and also another set of Impress nails in a bright pinkish-orange color with accents. For now, I’m giving my nails time to breathe. I treated them with that expensive hair, skin and nail oil I got on the ship that smells really nice, like suntan lotion. My cuticles are dry and my nails are a little beat up. It’s also nice to take a break so I can type easier and not snag them in my hair or catch them on objects.

Eating some oatmeal and Greek yogurt. Never seen this combination before so I had to try it. It’s edible but I doubt I’ll get it again.

What else… Got half of my book edited, Bob and Virginia returned yesterday, and the new people are quiet. The car stereos blasting down the freeway at night, well, that’s a whole ‘nother story. Again, I don’t get the twisted laws in this country. It’s not just allowing for a huge disturbance of the peace, but how the hell can they hear sirens over that shit?

Trying not to think of a certain person in NE who lied as easily as one breathes, then so callously dumped me, leaving me virtually friendless. Sorry, but it’s hard to consider people like Christine or Charlotte as the kind of friend I once considered Aly to be. Thought of befriending her through a bogus account, but it’s not worth the time or effort. I’d only be the same liar she is if I did that anyway.

I’m also trying not to think of the fact that the statin retrial is less than a week away. “What if I do ok, then have a problem when you go back to work?” I asked Tom, and he said that wouldn’t be the case, and that if I were going to have a problem it would happen within the first 2 or 3 days.

And he’d be the only one to believe me if I did. Decided I wouldn’t ask for an alternative if it does backfire on me. After 2 years of this on-and-off hell related to medication, I can only take so much more of this shit. I just can’t keep putting myself through this hell. Really hoping I can tolerate the medication, though!

A part of me wishes I could see Stacey every month for life since I feel so much better afterward, LOL, but I’ll probably be seeing her every 3-4 weeks for a while. Every 1-2 may be more ideal, but 3-4 suits my schedule better. Love that woman for how helpful she’s been!

Actually got horny and got off last night without the pounding heart. Get Tom in on the action? Nah. He hasn’t shown any interest in years, and what’s the point if I get a rare surge of horniness when he’s asleep? We’re getting older. I just thank God (figure of speech not meant to be literal) I don’t have the appetite I had when I was younger. I would never love him any less, but would probably have to hunt for a sex partner.

Last night I dreamed I visited Andy. He said something had worsened about his health and I said, “And I gained weight. Like 3 pounds.”

Then I called a hotel to make a reservation (not a bad sign, I hope), and the woman I spoke to said she tutored me back in school. So I guess the hotel was in MA. After hanging up from the woman I tried to recall who she may be, but couldn’t. It seemed like any tutors I could think of should be very old if not dead by now, and wondered how she knew who I was since I gave my married name.

In another dream, I was telling someone how good it felt to “hang” myself. That is in hanging from a bar by my hands.

In the last dream, I was in an indoor pool and someone was blowing a huge fan onto the water’s surface and I wasn’t too happy about it.

SATURDAY, JUNE 25, 2016 It may not be so hard to peel these nails off after all. One popped off after I showered and the others are loose. No sticky residue left behind like with the other nails.

Xfinity was across the street again, and so is the American flag. That reminds me…maybe I’ll put up my cute, colorful floral and kitty flags. I just get sick of the damn things wrapping around the pole, even though we got one of those things that is supposed to prevent that from happening.

They still have the “sale pending” sign up.

I slept surprisingly well and long, and I wonder if the ibuprofen I took before bed for an earache had anything to do with that. I doubt it, though.

Not doing much today. Yesterday was cardio day so today is strength training day. I will also make out the grocery list and continue proofreading and editing my last book.

Though no fault of her own, Tammy hasn’t exactly had positive news of her own to share for a while, and so I’m hoping that the surgeries they’ve done to help alleviate her chronic pain are helping her to have a more active life. She too, lives in a beautiful place and it would be nice if she could enjoy it more.

Apparently, Bill is in Rhode Island and not Florida because Becky and Sarah are flying there right now. No matter what, I will never forgive the guy. I will always see him as the abuser that he was, and the guy that helped get me sent to jail. In my eyes, he deserves any suffering he may experience.

Tomorrow Tom and I will enjoy his only day off this week, then he has to work a whole week, and then it’s vacation time!!!

Since using Squigle (no, that’s not a typo) Tooth Builder toothpaste I have noticed less sensitivity within my teeth as it closes up and repairs any cavities in my hopelessly soft enamel. No wonder Tom said someone said it was much better than Restore. It’s fantastic!

Last night’s dreams were strange and sexual in nature. I was getting on with Doc L, LOL. Then I was watching a news broadcast about a woman who was sent to prison and how people said she would now get what her infamous

FRIDAY, JUNE 24, 2016 I spoke with a neighbor today but not the new ones. It was Geri in the gray house across the street. She’s been here seven years. She said she just had a $2000 roof repair that the inspector missed when she had it inspected. Yes, inspectors like to miss things, don’t they?

We ended up chatting as I was pulling in the recycle bin, and I caught her out trimming bushes.

I still can’t get a handle on who moved into the new house, but there could be as many as three people living there. I’ve seen a couple in their 50s or 60s and I’ve also seen a very old man who walks with a cane. There might also be a younger guy who could be some kind of caretaker if not a family member that’s helping them get settled. I just can’t say for sure.

My biggest concern was loud vehicles and projects. It’s too soon to say whether or not anyone’s going to be obsessed with hammers and saws, but the good thing is that it does look like they’re a one-vehicle household, and their white SUV is quiet.

They were out and about until after 11 when a brown SUV that was a little loud left for the night. I’m glad that thing is not going to live there, even though there are louder vehicles like the car across from Bob and Virginia.

There was a work truck there around lunchtime, but it wasn’t there for long. They have a lot of stuff sitting in their carport. The white SUV has been sitting in front of the place for the afternoon.

It doesn’t look like they have any dogs, but it’s too soon to judge how they’re going to be. I never really had any bad vibes about them, but I’ve had more important things on my mind like the upcoming statin retrial, and dealing with how unbelievably shitty I sleep.

Fell asleep at about midnight and every time I would conk out I would wake back up. Finally, after two or three hours of doing that, I took a lorazepam and I did sleep a little better. Because I’ve gotten too used to the lorazepam, I won’t take it tonight. I’ll just let myself keep waking up and sleep shitty and be a little tired tomorrow. I don’t have any cleaning to do or anything physical other than working out on the Bowflex (today’s the treadmill). Tom will be working.

I worry about him because he has an abscessed tooth but won’t go to the dentist because of his phobia. He said he would get antibiotics if he got sick, but that his body is still young and healthy enough to fight infections. Let’s hope so! His wife has enough shit to deal with so we don’t need his health going down the drain or anything like that.

I dread my next trip to the dentist! Really afraid she’s going to come out and tell me I have several cavities, or worse, teeth that need to be crowned. Either way, I am trying not to think of my health until I am actually faced with certain issues.

Dropped the cap to my lip balm under my desk and I can’t find it at all. One of our future rats will no doubt drag it out being the kleptos that they are.

Got some mushroom ravioli at Raley’s and it is so damn good!

Later…

Today’s one of those days where I feel the exact opposite about Aly than I felt a couple of days ago. Despite my own faults, she bullshitted me like crazy, and I don’t miss that or all the hypochondriac drama, or the crazy nutjobs connected to her that would latch onto me. I’ll probably go back and forth in my mind for some time to come, however.

I like to at least check her tweets every now and then to see what’s up with her. That way I feel like there’s still some sort of connection, but without the toxic drama.

My nails still look amazing and like they were just done. I want to switch out to something new but I never want to take these off either. I used to think people paid a lot of money to have these designer nails done in salons, and they did, but now that I know you can stick them on in seconds for a fraction of the cost, I will definitely be looking for more. It’s a little more expensive than regular nail polish as what you pay for a set of these is around the same as you’d pay for a bottle of nail polish that you can use multiple times. I still think it’s worth the extra cost. I love how they never chip and always look perfect. Still find it hard to type with the longer ones, and I don’t like catching them in my hair, but they’re pretty awesome. No more ridges either. :-)

The box these Impress nails came in says it’s not recommended you wear them for more than seven days. I wonder why.

They also say that to remove them just gently peel from the sides or use polish remover. I can’t believe it’s possible to just peel these things off!

Two cars came to visit the new people, and at one point at least half a dozen people were chatting in the street, one of them going by on a golf cart. They weren’t that loud, and again I’m so glad we couldn’t end up with welfare bums, college kids or large families to deal with so close to us! I do NOT miss those days.

Still too soon to say exactly how many people live there and how they’re going to be as neighbors until they’re settled in, but my guess is that it’s a couple living there (the old man I saw might also live there) and that their only vehicle is the white SUV.

I’m loving that I’m 100% anxiety and pain-free, but dreading the eventual return of these things that can’t seem to stay out of my life forever. I don’t expect to never experience pain again, of course, but it would be nice if I didn’t have to have any serious anxiety. It’ll come back, though, at some point. It always does. After two years of dealing with it on and off, I can’t expect it to go away forever.

THURSDAY, JUNE 23, 2016 It was actually Kim who mentioned Auburn, so I saw after I reread the tweets. But at least Aly didn’t correct her and tell her my real town, even if it would have been harmless.

It seems like Kim has stopped checking up on me, so for the millionth time, I deactivated my old Twitter account, and this time it’s probably for good.

A huge moving truck showed up about an hour ago, but I still can’t see any people or tell who’s moving in. I did see a white woman exchange greetings with a black woman who was visiting next door to them, but I don’t know if the white woman is going to be living there or not. She asked the black woman if she was living there and all I heard was, “No, I…” and then blackie took off.

There is also a large pickup parked in front of the gray house in front with tons of boxes in it, but I don’t know if that’s connected or not. I’m guessing whoever they are must have decent money to be able to hire movers, and such a large truck, too. I’m hoping they work and therefore don’t have the time to move themselves, but I agree with Tom, they’re probably retired and can’t move themselves easily enough. As able-bodied as Bob is, I can’t picture him and Virginia moving themselves. I know we couldn’t get lucky enough to get working neighbors, so yes, I’m sure that they’re retired, whoever they are.

I still have a lot to worry about… loud vehicles, motorcycles, too much company, screaming kids visiting, cars blasting stereos visiting, mutts left to bark outside windows and doors, and most of all… projects. Tom suggested that since they hired movers they might be too old for projects. Not necessarily. Bob’s 86 and he can handle power tools just fine.

I just find it hard to be optimistic with my track record for neighbors, Retirement community or not. I’m just so glad we’re in a retirement community, though, where the chance of trouble (or at least as much trouble) is lower. It would also be easier to do something about it if the problem was serious enough. I would hope so, anyway. Another thing is that the chances of them being black or Muslim aren’t good. God, I hope that’s not what we’re in for! Honestly, though, I’d rather quiet Muzzies than rowdy whites. But with them, I’d still have to worry about being killed whereas blacks are just rude and tend to be more trouble.

Yesterday there was a pickup and an SUV over there, but I think those were workers of some kind. Xfinity was there this morning.

I could probably escape most of any noise they made by going into the bedroom, but they could really make hanging out in the living room in the daytime pretty annoying.

As for Bob and Virginia, they definitely took off somewhere. If one of them were in the hospital, then the other one would be driving in and out to see them. I’m just a little surprised they didn’t tell us they were taking off, but due to the heat and how I feel at times, I haven’t been out and about as much. Therefore I’m not running into them as much.

That car that came early in the morning probably took them to the airport, and I would bet their SUV is in their garage, which has been closed up. The last time they went on vacation a year and a half ago, their son and English daughter-in-law stayed at their place. They were quiet but left their really bright garage light on all the time.

The Egyptian cotton sheets are luxuriously smooth and comfy. I should have gotten two sets of those instead of one of those and one flannel.

If it weren’t for difficulty typing because these nails are longer, I would definitely vote Impress nails as the #1 artificial nails I’ve tried so far. They’re easier to apply and they don’t snag my hair as much.

The light on the toilet is on once again, but everything still seems to be working fine.

Two days ago I had a headache and I did the tapping routine twice and it actually went away! I didn’t need to take ibuprofen or anything.

Today I woke up both tired and dizzy because I didn’t sleep well. I fell asleep earlier than I thought I would, but as usual, I woke up a million times along the way. So I tapped for dizziness and fatigue, and I actually perked up! It’s just amazing. I was able to finish the rest of the cleaning, but like yesterday, I didn’t work out. I’ll make sure I do tomorrow.

Tom is working this Saturday, but I’m okay with it. As long as he’s at this job, he’s never going to work just 40 hours a week. That’s simply not part of this job. I’m just glad it’s a European company so he gets more time off, especially with all the damn appointments I have.

I had a dream I met this skinny woman and was shocked to learn she had Hashimoto’s and was on levothyroxine. I asked if she could eat all she wanted and she said no.

In another dream, I was (visiting? Living?) with Andy. He was whining and bitching at me from two rooms away. I put some bags that contained his laundry just outside the room I was in which was between my room and the room he was in and said, “I put your stuff in the corner here.”

He came into the room and said he didn’t hear me, and I said, “Sorry, I can’t hear people when they talk to me from other rooms either,” hoping he’d think he wasted his breath complaining about whatever it was about me that was irritating him.

Then I went back to folding more laundry on my bed and seemed to fold some of Tom’s shirts.

Then I had some dream about Tom wishing he could show me to his co-workers so they could see that at my age, no, I wasn’t beautiful, but I was ok, LOL.

In the last dream, the roof was leaking, but it didn’t make any sense because it was leaking in front of the refrigerator and over the part of the counter where I color.

Last night Aly tweeted: I always hate that I feel so awkward and hesitant around those who have an obvious disability.

But she has no problem around those who are fucked in the head? For once Kim told the truth on one of her accounts. In one where her handle is “paranoid ghost,” her bio says: I am a Paranoid Ghost. I get paranoid all the time and also I can be delusional at times. Mess with me and you will face the consequences.

This is the only time I’ve ever known her to be honest and tell it like it is. So Aly feels perfectly comfortable around the delusional?

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 22, 2016 I admit it. I still miss her. I know I shouldn’t and that it’s pointless, but I do. Maybe the dreams I had about her last night are the reason she’s on my mind so much today. They weren’t bad dreams, but she’s been showing up in my dreams more often since she let me go. I wish I could say I was 100% totally over her, but I still have mixed emotions about our friendship ending, and sometimes it still hurts.

I admit that I was the one who dumped Andy and I shouldn’t have said otherwise. I don’t miss him, Paula, Nane, Maliheh or Mary, though I will always remember and wonder about them from time to time.

I wish I could put Aly, however, completely in the past just like she did with me. I guess it’s not that easy when you were friends with someone for eight years regardless of how dishonest they were to you along the way. We had as much in common as we had our differences. I never minded our differences, though. I didn’t care that she was more accepting of Muslims. I didn’t care that she preferred colder weather while I prefer warmer weather. I didn’t care that she preferred short hair while I prefer long hair. But being similar mattered to her and she chose to cut ties on account of that and my bluntness, and I have no choice but to respect her wishes. We can’t make people want to be in our lives. I get that. She wanted me gone from her life and so I’m gone, like it or not.

I don’t expect her to ever contact me, but if she did I know I wouldn’t do what I should do. No, instead I would be glad to talk with her. I would take her back into my life in a heartbeat, even though it would be against my better judgment and I would probably end up regretting it. I would have to be a lot more cautious than I ever was before because, as she herself admitted and apologized for, she wasn’t always honest and she probably still isn’t.

She hated my bluntness and honesty, so if she were suddenly back in my life I would have to make sure I wasn’t as quick to express my opinion and say things I was pretty sure she didn’t want to hear about whoever and whatever. Not sure I would like that kind of arrangement, but sometimes you just have to compromise. She was just more sensitive than I realized.

Like I said, I don’t expect to hear from her ever again, but I sure do miss her at times. I really do. Today’s one of those days where I would have gladly texted with her which I know is something she always loved to do. Maybe she’s sick of that sort of thing by now, but today would have been a good day for that for a few reasons.

So yeah, even though it’s probably best that I never do, I would really love to hear from her, even if my logical side knows that you don’t dump people you truly, honestly care about and accept as they are. Anyone I myself have ever dumped in the past; it was because there was something about their behavior or personality I simply couldn’t accept or tolerate. If I could have, they’d still be in my life unless they chose to cut ties with me.

I keep thinking of her tweets. She’s been up to the usual kinds of things for the most part, but there were a couple of tweets that grabbed my attention. One was surprising and the other was a bit chilling.

Like me, Aly has been known to have dream premonitions. The one that was a little scary was how she mentioned having a dream that had her scared for someone she shouldn’t be. Why do I get the feeling she was talking about me? If she was, the thing that was a little unnerving was that this was the day before my ultrasound. However, I didn’t have any bad dreams warning of impending danger, and no one ever called about the test results. They haven’t even been posted online.

The surprising tweet was when she said she was thinking about a former friend and wondering how she was doing, but wonder was all she would do. Pretty sure that one was in regard to me. So she’s been thinking about me, too. Wow. Well, if that’s the case and she was scared for me (assuming I was the one she was talking about) then that goes to show that a part of her still cares just like a part of me still cares about her. No, I didn’t like the lies and clinginess, but I liked everything else and I miss her at times. Just those little things like doing CampNano together and things like that. A part of me wishes we could be friends again with me assuring her I’d keep more of my opinions to myself, and her promising to just not say anything at all rather than bullshit me, but life will go on and I will survive.

Speaking of camp, I have 11 cabin mates in the cabin I have been assigned to. So I guess I’m going to camp in July. :) Until then I will be editing the book I just finished.

In observing her tweets with Kim, I appreciated that she still refers to me as being in Auburn and hasn’t told Kim my real town, not that it should matter. Kim’s obsessed with two things (besides lying), celebrities and weather. So they discussed the weather, and my old town came up when they were discussing the heat most of the West is experiencing.

Later…

Tom checked Social Security and we’d really be hurting if he retired at 62 with just a grand a month. We could barely live on that in the $300 studio they had in the Klam, which is probably now going for $500 and will be over a grand by the time we’re old.

Still sleeping shitty. I’m tired all day yet up forever. Lorazepam doesn’t cut it for me anymore. It doesn’t knock me out like it used to, nor does it prevent me from waking up so much. So I guess I’ve gotten too used to it and can forget the stuff for a while.

We’re trying to decide if we want to go anywhere during vacation that’s just a couple of hours away like Reno, Lake Tahoe or San Francisco. The thing is that I’ve pretty much been all over the country as well as to other countries. So while I’d love to live in Maui during the winters, traveling just doesn’t excite me like it once did. I won’t rule it out completely, though. We have plenty of time to decide.

Although I’m still a little lightheaded at times (especially if I’m active), I’ve been free of pain and anxiety lately, so that’s good. Still feel like a first-class wimp for how I handled certain things, even though I know I shouldn’t. We all handle things differently, as Stacey and others have reminded me, and it’s pointless to play the comparison game. If you want to compare a sore throat to someone paralyzed from the waist down… ok, I can see that. But hardships are hardships. Some things I handle better than others, some things I don’t, and I know that’s ok. I’m human just like anyone else. All I can do is my best. I try to think positively, be optimistic, and focus on the good. If I could’ve been less impacted by certain events, I would’ve been. I didn’t actively choose some things to get to me as much as they did, but I’ll just leave it at that. :)

Love these artificial designer nails, but I hate snagging them in my hair. I think I’ve pulled out more hairs with these than what fell out when my thyroid crashed.

Just got the leggings with the colorful candies printed all over them and while I love those too, I couldn’t get into these things if I were still 100 pounds. :( So, gotta return them.

Also got our new light blue 600-TC Egyptian cotton sheets. They feel nice to the touch, but I’m not sure how well they’ll stay put despite their deep pockets. I think they’d fit a queen better. So far only flannel and jersey sheets stay put best. The only problem with jersey is that they shrink like crazy.

The light on the toilet finally went out. Still don’t know why it got stuck on in the first place, but it made a nice nightlight.

Something’s definitely amiss next door. I just don’t know what. Pretty sure someone was there this morning, though. When you’re a homebody you see things and you get to know the normal routines of your neighbors. Well, they always have their garage door open in the daytime unless it’s cold or raining. Always. And they always make 3-4 trips in and out each day. Both today and yesterday the door has been shut and I haven’t seen anyone come or go.

They’ve been quiet since September, and as selfish as this may sound, I really hope nothing happened to one of them, or else the other will move. I don’t want to deal with any more newbies. As it is I’m still worried about what we’re in for on the other side of us. The carpet was cleaned this morning, and I saw what I’m pretty sure was the realtor and some workers over there for a little while.

TUESDAY, JUNE 21, 2016 Physical and emotional report first: No anxiety. Slept shitty, but got a lot done, including cleaning and exercising. Started off mildly lightheaded, but after 5 hours it intensified (not to the point that it got scary and I felt all weak in the legs or anything like that) and I also became more fatigued.

Stacey told me that I should not only tap every day for anxiety, but that some people do it for pain, too. So I tried it and it worked on my headache! Yeah, I had one of those intermittent, “moving” headaches, but after two rounds of tapping it diminished. I just wish the dizziness wouldn’t be an everyday thing, even when it’s mild. God, I miss more and more aspects of the old me the older I get!

YES! My book Shane is finished! It’s not quite a short story and it’s not quite a novel. More like a novella. Next comes the boring part… editing the 16011-word story. It’s 19 chapters, including the epilogue, and 50 pages long at point 12 Cambria font.

I wonder if something bad happened to either Bob or Virginia because, at just 5am, I saw a car pull out after I heard a series of door slams. I had just gotten up and was like, you’re kidding me. It’s 5am and the traffic and door slamming has already begun? I first wondered if they were going on vacation, but realized they probably would have told us, as well as the fact that they usually go in the winter (except for last winter). At least one of them was home by 8 o’clock.

I was browsing some YouTube videos on EMDR therapy sessions, and wow. The brain really is a fascinating thing. We may not know everything there is to know about it, but what we do know is pretty amazing. The technique seems pretty straightforward. The client is told to focus on their most disturbing memory while they follow the therapist’s hand movements with their eyes, and the therapist may also tap alternately on each forearm. Our memories basically get filed into little folders, and sometimes a traumatic memory doesn’t quite get filed away in the proper folder and gets “stuck” on one side of the brain instead of on both sides where memories are supposed to be stored. You have your artistic side of the brain and your intelligent side of the brain, with memories being stored on both sides. This technique files the traumatic event on both sides thus disallowing the memory to have such an impact on a person so they can cope with things easier. So I guess that when “smile,” “think positive,” and “don’t dwell on old shit” doesn’t quite cut it, then it’s EMDR to the rescue.

Aly has been haunting my dreams lately. I don’t remember the particulars but there were two different dreams. In one she didn’t look like herself and was considerably bigger than me, even though I knew it was her.

In another dream, she commented and “liked” something of mine on some site (I don’t know which) and so did Kim. I was delighted that they had reached out to me in a kind way and I looked for something on their pages to “like” in return.

In real life, a part of me misses Aly. Why, though? Why? She was nothing but a phony liar. Yes, I was overly brash, blunt and brutally honest with her. Some people just don’t want to know what you’re thinking if it’s not something they’re going to like or agree with, and she was one of them. But that’s just the thing; I was honest with her while she bullshitted me left and right. Having learned my lesson on how forgiving people often backfires, I hope I will be smart enough to ignore her if she ever contacts me, and the same goes for Andy and anyone else in my past.

Now that I have this sculpting clay and all these tools here, I may as well go YouTube hunting for demonstrations on what the tools are best used for.

Later…

So I go through one of Kim’s fan sites out of curiosity (never contacting either one of them), and find Aly’s latest and obvious account. IDK, I guess the dream has caused her to be on my mind. Although I know it’s silly, pointless, stupid, immature and all things negative, I still miss the little liar at times and a part of me wishes she’d contact me, knowing I’d be dumb enough to accept her back into my life, if only with a lot more caution on my part (I doubt she’d ever contact me, though).

Yes, she’s clingy, she puts guilt trips on you if you don’t practically smother her, and yes, she’s a true liar at heart with poor taste in friends and no ability to handle the truth from others if it’s not what she likes/agrees with. But she was smart and we had some good talks.

I went through her 120 tweets, both to see what was up and to see if I was mentioned. Well, when I saw “Had a couple of strange dreams overnight. One that has me fearing for someone I shouldn’t be” posted on the 15th, I wondered if she was referring to me.

This tweet, however, was obvious. “Sometimes I think about a former friend. Wonder what she’s up to. But wondering is all I’ll do.”

So as cold as she was by dumping me, she’s thinking of me, too.

I KNOW her and I KNOW some of the tweets about being misunderstood and feeling ignored were aimed at Kim. She would always tell me how selfish Kim seemed and how much she lacked empathy. Part of me has been hoping Kim would dump her to give her a taste of her own medicine. Kim is the only “real” friend she has left. But Kim doesn’t tell her the truth, something Aly can’t deal with, so Aly wouldn’t dump her, though you never know with Kim. As soon as I called Kim out on the “anonymous” insults on Ask, I got dumped. If Aly ever gets fed up enough with the lies and phoniness, Kim will dump her too.

Then there’s the usual, “Don’t want to bring anyone down so I’ll suffer in silence” shit that really means she wants attention or else she wouldn’t have publicly tweeted such a statement.

Again, I still have mixed emotions concerning her as much as I wish I could say I was 100% totally over her. Someday, though. It’s only been a few months.

MONDAY, JUNE 20, 2016 Bombed the house on this hot, dry day and saw Stacey during the two hours we had to be out of the house. Well, we only saw her for an hour or so, but it took a half-hour to get to Rocklin, and then we stopped at a drive-thru.

Stacey’s going to be doing EMDR therapy on me beginning on July 7th, which can take up to 8 sessions. When today’s session started I updated her on what’s been going on since I last saw her in January. I told her about the heatstroke on vacation, the lightheadedness I’ve been experiencing since April, the attempt to go back on statins, plans for a retrial, the anxiety that’s returned, etc. I haven’t, however, had much anxiety for a few days now. It’s only when the lightheadedness gets real bad that I start getting anxious, and then eventually depressed.

I’m just panicking too often lately. All I do is worry. I suffer or I worry that I’m going to suffer, and this is no way to live. I’m just tired of feeling like a first-class “mental case,” as I told Tom. Tom, who seems totally unbreakable. He assures me, though, that anyone can be traumatized, even him. I hope to hell he never is, but if God forbid he ever is, I’m sure he’d handle it a lot better than I’ve handled my own trauma. I feel like a wimp, even though I know I shouldn’t.

So Stacey wants to see how I do with EMDR sessions; to help lessen the negative effects of two years ago. I still would’ve had the perimenopause symptoms, for example, but she suspects that because my brain may not have processed the event, it has led me to have more anxiety than I might have otherwise had over the last two years, making even ordinary things harder to cope with. I don’t know much about it yet. She said something about blinking and tapping to process the memory on both sides of the brain. You use one half of the brain for creativity and the other half for things like processing math problems and stuff like that. Memories, however, are typically processed on both sides of the brain. My memory of that traumatic day is apparently stuck on just one side. This is a technique that’s been used on those in combat as well as others suffering PTSD after experiencing something traumatic.

So telling myself to just “smile” and “think positive” isn’t always cutting it for me. Believe me, I’d love to be able to relax and do just that and live with less fear, worries and anxiety. But it hasn’t been that simple. EMDR will hopefully turn 7/9/14 into what it is… just a memory, instead of something that negatively impacts much of my life. Too bad brains don’t come with delete buttons! Life would be so much simpler that way.

As I told her, I don’t know what to think anymore. I don’t know what I believe. Is there something up there punishing me? Something about this house? Or is it just random? Tom and Stacey think it’s just random, and I guess they’re probably right. If we all lived the same lives with the same experiences, that would suggest some sense of order, but since some people have better lives than I’ve had while others have worse, it suggests randomness.

Jackie (across the street) moved today and my fingers are crossed that we’re in for people as quiet and as respectful as the women that recently moved in next to them. Really, REALLY hope they don’t have a motorcycle, are company junkies or are obsessed with doing all kinds of outdoor projects! Time will tell. I’m definitely not as worried as I would be if we weren’t in a retirement community. Fido isn’t going to be outdoors 24/7 and barking up a storm every time they go out so that much is good. Sure wish this could be my biggest concern right now. Yeah, some of my old problems, like worrying about neighbors, really seem like nothing nowadays.

For now… goodbye Jackie and good luck. We never met, but you were a good neighbor who was only “noisy” when you had workers clean up the water damage caused by your old hot water tank.

Was thinking of deactivating my Google+ account since I never use it, but haven’t decided. I just have no use for it and it’s a rather annoying and complicated thing to use anyway. My Blogger entries auto-post there, but that’s not necessary.

Ordered some stuff on Amazon, including toothpaste like Restore (which they no longer sell) that’s supposed to help close up cavities. Restore was great. I never should’ve stopped using it, but we were pretty broke back when I was first told about it. It was even better than what the dentist gives me and it’s a bit cheaper, too. It’s called Squigle Tooth Builder and it has great reviews.

I also decided to bring back a little of my old artistic side that went dormant the more technical I became over the years. I was into singing, musical instruments, dancing, painting, and drawing before I got hot and heavy into computers, writing and languages. I’ve always been into writing and languages; just not like I have been since the 90s. So I got some sculpting clay and tools.

Got a couple of cute pairs of leggings too, though I don’t know if they’ll fit. If they don’t, I can always return them. One is pink shiny “mermaid scales.” The other has jellybeans printed on them.

I also got a set of light blue Egyptian cotton sheets. I’ve heard good things about those types of sheets and always wanted to try them. So we’ll have that, plus the plum flannel sheets I just got. Anything but that thin crappy microfiber, and jersey material that shrinks like crazy.

Was thinking of going in for CampNano in July but I don’t know that I can focus on that right now. The book I’ve been working on since April probably would’ve been done by now if I didn’t have so much going on, so I don’t know that I’ll even finish that. It’s too bad too, because the story was coming along well.

The light on my toilet, even after changing the batteries, is staying on and we can’t figure out why. It still flushes, though. Tom emailed American Standard and asked why.

SUNDAY, JUNE 19, 2016 Starting this entry off with my glittery rainbow nails. This is by a brand called Diva and is also for little girls or those of us who are all grown up with little girlie-size nails. They were just as simple to stick on and they hold on well. This rainbow is in soft pastel shades of lime, lemon, pink and sky blue. I absolutely LOVE these things. I just have to remember not to rake my fingers through my hair or else the hairs will snag on the backs of the nails.

Went to Walgreens this morning and got the rainbow nails, along with another colorful set of theirs, plus a set from a brand called Impress. This set doesn’t all look the same. It has some plain turquoise nails, some white nails with zigzags of turquoise and gold glitter, and some with just gold glitter. Plus I still have the rainbow zebra set by Little Fingr’s.

I also grabbed a pair of black leggings that finally fit great and I love the super soft material. Gonna run out later while I’m still feeling good for a couple more pairs.

So glad I have been working out like I have as I have this little black spaghetti-strapped dress that was a bit snug in the waist. Well, not anymore, thanks to my dedicated efforts! Planking just 20 seconds a day really goes a long way. Plus I have my cardio and strength training. As for yoga… forget it. I tried and tried but just can’t get into it. It’s just not me.

Anyway, this is the best I’ve felt in a while as short-lived as I know it’s going to be. I felt like utter shit for most of yesterday and the morning started off shitty, too. So much so that I became depressed. They kinda go hand in hand, you know? If you feel like shit physically, you feel like shit mentally.

When I first woke up, I just did NOT want to get up and face the dizziness. But sure enough, not only were the dizzies on, but so was the headache. What is it with all these headaches lately? Tom asked if I was still taking my allergy spray. Yeah, I started back up on it cuz I was getting a little sneezy.

I moved slowly around Walgreens and noticed I began to feel better. Then when we got home, before the bastards could turn our water off again like they did yesterday, Tom dyed my hair. He did a great job. My hair looks the best it’s looked in ages. I’m a brunette again with a hint of deep red. It’s medium golden brown foaming dye by John Frieda.

Later…

Signing in again 98% dizzy-free! I love it! Sadly, though, I can’t believe I’ll stay this way for long. Not gonna work out till the end of my day in case that brings on the dizzies.

The only thing pointing away from our peri theory is how Charlotte said she went through the same thing for a year and never knew why. Well, she certainly wasn’t going through perimenopause. She’s only in her 20s.

Ran back out to Walgreens. By then there were more people, including the standard screaming brat. But I got a couple more pairs of those awesome leggings! They’re all size L-XXL and fit great. So now I have black, pinkish-orange, and mint green.

Last night I dreamed I was staying with Aly. Ugh. How many more years am I going to dream of that liar? The “friend” I could use through all this turmoil when Tom’s not around. She may’ve been clingy and she may’ve put guilt trips on me, but at least she never got fed up with my drama as Tammy seems to have despite rarely having any positive news of her own to report. But hey, that’s why I keep the blog she reads generic.

Anyway, in the dream, Aly was working graves. I sat on a chair in a small room waiting for her to return. I guess I couldn’t go to bed till she got in, or something. I had no lights on in the room and seemed to be the only one in the house. Moonlight or the streetlight shone through a glass door. Finally, I realized it was pointless to just sit there in the chair doing nothing, so I got up intending to color or do some word find puzzles.

I went into a bedroom (a guest room? Her room?) to get what I needed, but couldn’t find a light switch in the dark. My hand ran along the walls only to find no switches of any kind. Finally, I pulled a string in the center of the room with a red feather at the end of it, but that only turned on the ceiling fan. I figured that was ok since I tend to overheat in my sleep.

Then a large orange cat jumped up onto the bed and started swatting at the feather. I tried to discourage it, not wanting it to damage anything, but gave up after a few useless minutes of trying.

SATURDAY, JUNE 18, 2016 Up and ready for another day in dizzy mode, though I expect less anxiety since Tom will be home. No calls about the ultrasound. So everything’s ok? That would be my guess.

Anyway, I felt like such shit in the early morning hours yesterday that it was almost scary. I called Tom once. It eased up as the day progressed. Trying not to think of how many years this may go on and just learn to accept that I just have to live with it, just like I had to learn to live with regular ear pain.

Last night was the first night I slept without lorazepam so we’ll see how long I can go without it. I’ll probably take it the night before I see Stacey, though, so I have a better chance of being well-rested.

Twitter stopped playing their locking games once I got on them about it.

The dream about the old lady in Texas did mean something, as expected. She had an attack that screwed up her vision even more. She can’t even read. She has her daughter do it for her, but she’s out of the country right now, and some volunteer was helping her that got into her account and apparently did some things she wasn’t too thrilled with.

Decided to switch back to a non-electric toothbrush. I realized that the bulk of my cavity issues began when I went electric in the late 90s. Well, if I’ve got soft enamel, wouldn’t it make sense that electric toothbrushes would wear down the enamel easier? Guess we’ll find out soon enough. I know I’ve got something going on in front, though, near where my crown is.

I had a dream Tom and I were on a ship and he wanted to go watch a circus that was performing in the ship’s “auditorium.” Tired and not feeling well, I told him to go on ahead by himself and I went back to our stateroom.

But then it seemed like that room became where we lived. Nice soft recessed lighting was overhead, and I thought how most modern places had speakers in the ceilings as I listened to whatever was playing at the moment. I was also trying to fix something but I’m not sure what it was.

FRIDAY, JUNE 17, 2016 I feel like such shit that I have to do this entry from bed. The persistent dizziness is interfering more and more with my daily life and I can no longer enjoy the things I normally do nearly as much as I used to. I get up, I have a few good hours, and then I spend the rest of my day dizzy. I’m going to have to decide… do I want to live my life in a dizzy state, or do I want to just end it all? Honestly, I don’t think I can stand this much longer. I feel so sickly and unhealthy for someone who is supposedly not, and I really feel like never before that I’m never going to get better. First it was anxiety making me panic and feel like shit and now it’s the dizziness making me panic and feel like shit.

The tapping still helps but not as much as it used to. I feel just awful. I’m constantly dizzy, my legs feel weak, my hands feel jittery, I feel warm, I feel cold, I feel downright SHITTY. I can’t even finish my book, and I don’t know that I’ll be up for CampNano, even at just 10K words. It’s really affecting my ability to live my life and to do things. I want to take up sculpting and get some clay and supplies, but like I’d have the energy or feel well enough to concentrate on that?

The night before last I got up at around 11 p.m. and I felt like shit pretty much until after I met with the vas tech for my carotid ultrasound. I had quite a “bipolar” day. Crying one minute, perky the next. The good thing is that he did say that he didn’t see anything for my doctor to get too excited over, though he could not discuss the particulars with me. What I’m not sure is good is the fact that they called in the evening. I was already asleep.

I asked the guy if nothing bad turned up with the ultrasound, would that mean the dizziness was nothing dangerous. He said not necessarily, but that the ultrasound was a big thing.

I went to bed at around 2 p.m. and at 8 p.m. there was a power failure that lasted for about 20 minutes at which time I got up and took couple of ibuprofen for my ear, which isn’t aching today for the first time in days. I was really hoping that oiling it daily would reduce the dizziness, but we’re both still thinking it’s perimenopause-related. The question is how many months, or years, am I going to have to suffer??? And when this is finally resolved, what will my next problem be? I have done nothing but suffer for the last two years and I’m so sick of it that I’m thinking more and more of ending it all. I just want my life back, just like that woman said in her post, and if I can’t have it back then what’s the point of living? I can hardly do anything anymore. I can, but it’s a struggle and I have to take constant breaks and I have to improvise some things. It’s very frustrating and scary. Do other women really have it THIS bad? I wonder. Or could there be something up there punishing me for who knows what? Due to the fact that I have one long-term problem after another, I have always wondered and if I’m destined to always live like this; suffering one thing after another. One thing I have learned is that the medical stuff is always the worst. How I miss the days when achy teeth and ears were my worst problems along with restless/noisy neighbors.

Bob’s been working around his place the last couple of days, though he hasn’t been noisy. Still, it’s not fair! Here’s this 86-year-old guy with endless energy while I sit in here dizzy, fatigued, depressed, anxious, worried and feeling totally helpless and hopeless. It’s with envy that I saw someone jogging by. I want to go out walking. I want to Bowflex. I want to focus on my story, but it’s a struggle just to bitch and whine in my journal as it is. Tom says there’s nothing dangerous going on with me and that I’m going to get better, but when? When????

I also feel like I have to take a dump a lot when I don’t have to. I realize part of these symptoms is anxiety. Maybe that means the statins didn’t do anything to me after all, though that 135 beat down makes me wonder.

I really hope Stacy has more tricks up her sleeve, because I don’t know that Doc A is going to do much for me. It’s like she doesn’t believe me. I think she thinks all my anxiety is just my phobia of medication. In that case, I’m not going to get her to help me and I might have to see someone else. But will they believe me? Sometimes I wonder if anybody can help me.

When we returned yesterday I actually perked up and had more energy and felt better emotionally even though there was still an underlying sense of dizziness. It just wasn’t as intense. But now it sure is.

The weather has been unusually cold. Yesterday morning was the first time we had to run the heat in the month of June to take the chill out.

Anyway, the ultrasound didn’t take long. What I saw on the monitor made no sense to me, though after looking up a video on YouTube, I learned some things. It made these weird sounds at times like PSHOO! PSHOO! PSHOO!

After we left the building we went to Raley’s where we picked up some groceries and I also found these really cool stick-on designer nails for girls. Because I have small fingers they’re perfect. Grabbed some Always a Flirti nail polish by Nicole too, which is like a frosty red color.

Picked up some ginger ale hoping it would help with the dizziness, because various forms of ginger are recommended, from what I read online, but it hasn’t helped much if at all.

For now, I’m trying to do “easy” things and not worry about the tougher things like book writing that isn’t necessary. So I pulled out some of the old Word Search magazines I’d get in Phoenix and thought I’d do some of them before they disintegrate.

Now that it took me nearly an hour just to write this entry, I’m going to go relax.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 15, 2016 Happy 22nd anniversary to us! Now if only I felt better. Found a post in a forum describing similar symptoms as mine and they were saying how much they want their life back.

Yeah, I want mine back, too! This sucks. This totally sucks. I know the ultrasound is going to come back normal and I’ll probably be told that I’m anxious no matter how much I insist this is NOT normal for me. I’ve been this way since early April, from what I could tell looking back in this journal.

I felt like such shit yesterday morning that I almost had Tom come home from work. Every day is still a struggle and I have to do things in spurts.

They have three seasons of The Bates Motel on Netflix and I just started watching that. It’s really good so far.

My dark purple flannel sheets and new pillow arrived yesterday, though the pillow is exactly like the last one I got; it’s just a little longer.

We got Cappy a wheel but the bastard won’t use it.

Was thinking of going for CampNano in July where you set your own word count goal (I chose just 10K since I’m often lightheaded and lacking energy), but I don’t know if I can even finish Shane.

Soon I’ll get into bed and try, speaking into my phone into an email draft.

Had a dream I was talking to Andy. I don’t remember what was said; just that he was the one to contact me. Oh, I won’t talk to him if he does. Or to Alison. They blew it for good. Same for Nane and Maliheh, but they’d be the last ones I’d ever hear from.

Then I skipped something called “motto class,” and was given a pass called a “day or daymorrow” by a huge lady in a shiny pink dress. It was a weird one alright. It’s like I was living in some dormitory and I had all these classes. Only I was too beat to go to “motto” class so I skipped it.

TUESDAY, JUNE 14, 2016 Just had to chase two woodpeckers off that were beating on the patio roof. I hear squirrels running around out there now.

I am also feeling totally overwhelmed, totally helpless, and totally ready to give up on my health and my life completely. I fear I’m never going to get better. I don’t know if it’s perimenopause, anxiety, or something going on with my heart/arteries, but every single fucking day I’m lightheaded. I’m dealing with that and fatigue more than anxiety these days.

My ear was bugging me, then it got better, and now it’s bugging me again. Could that be connected to the lightheadedness? Tom doesn’t think so cuz ear-related things usually give you the sensation that the room is spinning and I don’t have that.

I’m just so frustrated I want to beat my head in the wall!

MONDAY, JUNE 13, 2016 Trying to do yoga just now is a sad reality as to just how fat and old and out of shape I’ve gotten. I’m still in shape for things like cardio and strength training, but my joints and flexibility have really gone to hell. I am really starting to feel the effects of my age, something I had hoped not to feel until I was over 65. Instead, I’m feeling old and even sickly. The anxiety has been minimal since I’ve been up, but I’ve had a lot of lightheadedness and some fatigue. I now try to get things done as early in the day as I can because I know I’m going to lose the energy to do much.

I’m sitting here in tears now totally fearing I will never get better no matter how sure Tom is that I will. A part of me wishes they would find something wrong with the ultrasound and tell me that that’s the cause of my lightheadedness and say they can fix it easily enough. But with what? More drugs that I’m going to have a bad reaction to? I feel like I’m stuck in a total no-win situation. I have to choose the lesser suffering. Do I choose to suffer from whatever ails me, or do I suffer the effects of the medication they give me to treat it?

I had the runs last night and I started to feel a spark of hope that it wasn’t the statins after all, but with the statins, I didn’t actually have the runs, I just had to go a lot. It was also for more than one day. The chicken I made smelled a little funny so maybe it was that. Either way, there’s still the beat down I had which is the biggest sign saying that a retrial of the statins won’t work. I really, really hope to hell it does work, but I have my doubts. That’s still almost a month away, however.

I just miss the old me. I miss not having the types of fears and concerns that I have now. The fact that I felt better for most of the night reflects on how much more I was able to get done. I wrote three pages of my story and did other things, but I’m still not right. The person who looked so forward to spending most of her time alone without fear is gone. And so is the person whose worst problem was usually hoping it wasn’t too noisy that day.

When I’m in a good mood and feeling well I tend to run around a lot, and sometimes my body sort of tenses and vibrates with positive energy if that makes any sense. I’ve felt this way less often lately. My mind hasn’t wandered to other subjects as much as it should and usually does. The more I think about anything other than my health concerns, the better I’m doing. But I dwell on my health and simply don’t have the pep I usually have.

The only thing I don’t have now on a regular basis that I had in the past is the beat downs (assuming the statins don’t bring those back), but when I was suffering hardcore anxiety, I didn’t have the fatigue and lightheadedness. The kick-ass anxiety was by far the worst symptom, but feeling like shit is still feeling like shit. The butterflies feel worse, but there are ways to kill them. I haven’t figured out what to do yet for the fatigue and lightheadedness. For now, I sit and wonder… can perimenopause really do ALL this for this long?

As tough as yoga is, I realize I really need to just do the best I can and move my hips, spine, neck and shoulders more often. Especially the hips. The fat will hinder some of my flexibility, but I think I can loosen things up a bit more if I add yoga to my exercise regimen. Different exercises do different things after all.

Later…

Ear got better but is acting up again, so I just oiled it.

Woke up the calmest I have in a week, but then felt faint underlying traces of butterflies. My first thought was that it was a good sign pointing away from the statins, but maybe this is WHY the statins made me feel as they did. I think that no matter what, Doc A is always going to blame 100% of my problems on my medication phobia when in fact that’s just a part of it.

Really hope to hell the retrial works out. Oh, how I want it to! But I honestly don’t see much indication to suggest it will, even with Tom home. Still gonna hope for the best, though.

Was sickened and saddened by the news of some psycho killing 50 people at a gay club in Orlando.

Just think… some hater could’ve come into the Pub or the Frontier in Springfield when Andy and I would go, and gun us all down with an assault rifle.

I don’t know why, but Sarah’s selfies, which are becoming more constant and similar in appearance, really annoy the hell outa me. So, so conceited. Is approval from others really that important to her?

Finished watching Psychic Detectives (wow, if it’s for real), couldn’t get into Aquarius, so I watched a documentary on the world’s most dangerous places. I need to find another series to watch; preferably that doesn’t have just one season.

I’m glad modern shows don’t focus so much on childbirth and child abuse, as that got really old and sad. Today it’s more about political correctness. Gee, what a surprise.

I guess my HR doesn’t have to be in the 60s for good sleep after all. I took a lorazepam after being up 17 hours, then I slept 7 hours without waking up much, yet my HR was in the 70s, 80s and even the 90s. Only once did it hit 69 and it wasn’t for long.

SUNDAY, JUNE 12, 2016 Fell asleep without lorazepam and again I couldn’t stay asleep. HR stayed in the 70s till I took a lorazepam a few hours later and could then get into a deep enough sleep in the 60s.

Although I managed a quick bike ride and a trip to the Walmart we used to go to when we lived in Auburn (ours isn’t open 24 hrs.), I felt like shit most of the day. Goes to prove that while Tom’s presence helps, especially if things turn scary like with killer racy HRs, he can’t make it all go away. I still have the butterflies, fatigue and lightheadedness.

I’m totally losing hope of ever getting better for good. Those pre-Citrus Heights days are gone forever. :( So, so depressing. Sometimes I wonder if I should just kill myself.

I just downed 1.5 chicken wings. Mood’s stable but not normal. What I mean by “normal” is the pre-park days. Lightheadedness and fatigue haven’t set in yet. That seems to happen later in my day. I swear I’d rather go back to being pissed at the whole world if I had to have any negative feelings at all! Worrying about an external source is always easier than when it’s internal and has no end in sight. I get breaks, but no permanent relief and I’m beginning to fear I never will. It’s been 2 long years now. When I said over a year ago, “This is the new me,” I think I was right. This is me now, and I either have to live with this internal torture or end it all completely and hope for the best as far as any possible afterlife goes.

Noisy neighbors, hoping traffic doesn’t wake me up, earaches, toothaches, allergies… how I wish to hell those were my worst concerns! But what if there is a God up there who hates me and plans to make life progressively worse and worse for me? What if my life “peaked” in the Oregon house, that was the best it was going to get, and from here on out it’s just going to get worse and worse? What if I do have a stroke and end up half-paralyzed like my grandmother was?

My moods simply don’t match my life. I have a beautiful house and everything I need and most of what I want. So then I fall apart? WTF? Being anxious doesn’t go with my life, and I wish I could be as sure as Tom is that this is just the perimenopause talking and that it’ll eventually back off for good, but there are no guarantees. The not knowing for sure compounds the misery.

I even had a headache yesterday that was hard to kill and that I rarely get, and my eyes are noticeably worse. I hope the pressure isn’t up! We plan to get eye exams and new glasses during his vacation.

Although it’s a ways off yet I really hope the statin retrial works. I really want it to, but again, there are things that suggest it will while there are things that suggest it won’t.

God damn, do I wish he could be home for 2.5 years like when the economy collapsed! I just don’t look forward to my alone time anymore; a great thing if he were retiring, but he’s still got many years to go and we don’t even know for sure that he’ll retire at 66. Might need to work till he’s 70. In that case, you’re talking over a decade.

He has to work on our anniversary but will be off the next day to cart me to the ultrasound.

I try to think positive thoughts and imagine there are a few people around, but my games don’t always cut it, cuz again, adults just can’t see pretend games through the more convincing and imaginative eyes of a child. I just want to be happy! Carefree. Full of energy. Able to enjoy my hobbies and what I’ve got going for me.

Instead, I know that any second, I will be too lightheaded or fatigued to do much of anything but lay around depressed about it. Better try to get some work done on my story, though, and see if I can finally focus on that before I lose the energy.

First, I dreamed of meeting with Becky from VH only she was skinny unlike in real life. She’s bigger than me.

Then I was sitting on a couch in our “home” with the laptop looking at some survey about food. A female voice listed off names of foods and I muted her. Then Tom appeared to step out from a room from a hallway that appeared both shorter and wider than ours. He cleared his throat and I glanced at him. He wore a strange black robe that was wide at the hem and at the end of the long sleeves. He asked if I was hungry.

Then there was some strange dream about a black woman raping me and later laying in bed looking up at a strange tube of dust and thinking how I should do some serious cleaning.

FRIDAY, JUNE 10, 2016 Woke up feeling the most refreshed and the least anxious in days. Just a touch of “butterflies” early on. Enjoying it while it lasts. Tom is 100% sure and guarantees this will end someday. It better! It’s the most horrible thing I ever endured physically and emotionally. Honestly, I don’t know how many more years of this shit I can take.

He got the days off he wanted, so he’ll be off from July 2-10 using only 4 of his days off. This means that if I can get past the second dose, I will take 5 doses during this time, probably on odd days.

Figuring it was the right thing to do, but knowing they wouldn’t actually call to cry about their “wonderful” daddy, I gave Sarah and Becky my number. As expected, I got a “thank you” from Becky and nothing from Sarah. If people don’t appreciate me in their lives, then why don’t they unfriend me? It could be her grieving and nothing personal, but really, if you don’t want to stay in touch, just dump me. I think I’m pretty used to it by now. I just hope she’s not staying connected out of a sense of duty or anything like that. But the best remedy for those you don’t hear from (unless you ask them a question or something) is for them not to hear from you.

Instead of a simple “thanks,” Sarah’s plastering more and more of the same selfies while her beloved daddy’s dying, and yes, I know this sounds wicked judgmental (that’s part of why I switched to private writing), but it’s a true sign of narcissism. It could also be a low self-image thing, from what I read, where she’s fishing for compliments. She does get them, though I’ve stopped the compliments only because they all look the same after a while and I’m not hearing much in return from her. I hate one-sided relationships of ANY kind.

I reconnected with my top PB besties but haven’t heard from the old lady. Funny too, since I recently had a bad dream about her. Either way, I didn’t feel right about abandoning them for no good reason.

The back light is out. I jumped and waved and it never saw me. Made my 2 rounds around the circle and did my 15 minutes of Bowflexing and 15 seconds of planking (any more hurts my back and abs).

You can’t leave the Bluetooth speaker on, so I learned. After a while, it beeps like a busy signal on a phone.

Later…

Sarah did “like” a post of mine after all where I claim to plan to be too busy to check in much this summer (made visible only to her), so please email or call if anyone needs me. Did she like the part about me not being around? Or the offer to email/call?

Decided I needed a new “game” of sorts to help distract me from my anxiety whenever I start to feel wound up or a little down. For the longest time, I’ve wished I could get into role-playing, but unless I were ever as crazy as Kim, I’m just too old to play pretend games. I’d love to be able to play “make-believe” in the way that I could as a child. As a child, we’re not only quicker to believe what others tell us, but what we tell ourselves as well. With age, however, we tend to lose that brainwashing power. It’s not that I ever believed my pretend games were real or that my imaginary friends weren’t just that… imaginary. But I saw my made-up fun in a whole different light than I could ever see it as an adult.

But interviews… interviews like what Andy would pretend to do as a famous rock star, and what I would sometimes do as well… is a different story. It’s a form of verbal journaling, be it my past, present or future that I may be discussing.

So I chose to do these things when I was lying in bed awaiting sleep. At these times one’s mind tends to wander a bit more and I’m more vulnerable to negative thoughts. Therefore, I pick a person I know or have seen, and pick a random topic to “discuss.” I could talk pet rats with Doc A or languages with Stacey.

As only Tom knows, my talking to pictures was NO pretend game. But it got me rethinking the afterlife again. The pics were the hosts to the entities that dwelled within. But WHO were they? Spirits of the dead? I guess I’ll never know.

I thought I had some dream about winning a vacuum, but I know it doesn’t mean anything.

I also dreamed of riding an electric bike. It went the same slow steady speed of about 5-6 MPH.

Then I felt a lump in my upper right boob in the next dream. I felt that area again a few minutes later and it was gone.

Then Tom and I were sitting in a room by a large window. Andy walked by and waved to us without turning his head. We just laughed at this 70’s hairstyle.

Then I was in our house, which didn’t look like our house as usual (we don’t have a slider), and saw Tom put some recyclables into the regular trash. I told him to stop putting recyclables in there. Then he went out a slider and into a dark chilly morning. A man stood across the street with his hands in his pockets and it seemed like we were in the mainstream.

Then I had some dream about a power outage while sleeping, and peeking into our neighbor’s place, which seemed to be just another room in our “house,” and it didn’t belong to Bob and Virginia. I guess they were about to move, but still had the place set up. Large pictures were on the walls and there was some furniture present, too. Tom told me I should return my barrette to them. I took it out of my hair and placed it on a table by their door.

Later…

Miss Nosy did some more digging into Dr. A. Let’s see… married, no kids (I think), 2.5 stars on Mercy, 3.5 on Yelp, loves to camp, travel, run and bike ride. They all love the same shit, only Dr. O added cooking and gardening, Dr. D playing with the kids.

Well, she’s going in my July CampNano story along with Stacey. Was thinking about the interview game thing and might do something along the lines of that. A wants to learn all she can about someone’s life, for example, cuz she’s involved in a secret medical experiment to see if memories can be altered/destroyed. Then Stacey can rescue her and try to help her figure out which memories are real vs. fake.

I’ve really got to get back on with Shane, though, once I catch up on journaling. Amazing how one who works at home, has no kids, and no real friends can often have so much to say.

Like the fact that I created a document to back up my tweets. I also back them up on my-diary and Prosebox.

Later…

Wanting to understand more of the “logic” American law is based on, I read around a bit. Well, the philosophy is this: Physical wounds heal, but emotional ones don’t. This is why violence isn’t taken nearly as seriously as non-violent crimes and rapists get less time than I got for saying shit no one wanted to hear. A woman can beat the shit out of her BF/husband for cheating and get just days, while thieves get months or even years.

Sorry, but their belief system makes no sense. If you beat someone up; sure their wounds are going to heal, but you mean to tell me they won’t have the memories and be emotionally damaged by the attack as well? If you called me names when I was a kid, of course that would have hurt. Today, I don’t give a shit if some stranger online or on the street calls me fat and ugly. But if they shoot, stab or beat me, that’s going to do a LOT more damage than any nasty words could ever do.

Sometimes I wonder if some of these crazy judges give crazy sentences just to get famous. Getting famous in a good way is like winning the lottery, but getting infamous only takes a second. Just threaten the wrong person online and you’ll be all over the news worldwide, for example. But what a great way for the cock to get famous while remaining within the “law,” huh?

Saw something about witches hexing that rapist who will be serving just 3 months (to lessen the impact on him, said the sick judge). What good will that do? And so what if the American Swimming Association or whatever the hell it’s called banned his membership for life? He can still swim elsewhere. I wish someone would kill him, but if no one killed Casey Anthony, why would anyone kill him? People can only wait till he rapes again and hope that the next time (since rapists can’t stop or be rehabilitated) he’s put away for years if not for good, and raped silly in prison before being killed, thus saving the taxpayers on his food.

Don’t know the details or even what the name is, but someone’s suing Ellen Degeneres for making fun of their name. Now THAT’S a case that may receive some punishment, even against a rich celeb. You know how it is, feelings matter more than the actual damage/crime.

Later…

So I ended up having anxiety when I first got up yesterday, then it backed off from 6-midnight, then returned for about 4 hours till Tom got up. This is the butterfly kind of anxiety. Not the booming heart or anxiety you feel welling up in your chest that’s more associated with when I was on too much levothyroxine.

I wanted to go to bed without lorazepam but felt too wound up and as I’d never get to sleep, so I took it and slept about 9 hours. Fitbit says 8 hours and 26 minutes to be exact.

Sure enough, about an hour after I got up, the butterflies flew outa my adrenaline gland to annoy the fuck out of me till I roasted chickened them away. Had a headache too, and took one ibuprofen. When that didn’t help I took another, even if it meant I might be drowsy.

The emotional tapping isn’t as effective as it was (all good things come to an end while so many bad things don’t), and so much for the power of prayer. There definitely either isn’t a God or it doesn’t give a shit about me. If it did it wouldn’t be letting me suffer so much for so long in the first place.

Again, gotta wonder what I did to deserve this. AND why it keeps coming back. AND when/if it’ll ever stop for good. The not knowing is what’s very hard on me, like when we didn’t know when he’d find work again. He’s totally sure it’s the peri and that it’ll be over someday, and while this makes sense to me (even if A might not believe it), how can I be sure? Yes, it’s hard to believe I’d become this whole different person for no reason just like I tried to explain to C, but what if I’m one of those flukes destined to be tormented till the day I die and no one can ever really help me?

Last night I dreamed I had a job (don’t know what) and I wondered if it would be as easy as I thought it would to just disappear once my schedule prevented me from working.

I also dreamed I was in some place with Andy and Jessie. I’m not sure how many rooms there were, but in the bedroom was one long bed, like a super huge king-size bed, and that’s where we were to sleep that night. The next morning we were to continue on with our travels, be it going home or to wherever we were going next.

The bedroom was off of a large room in which I started to stack a few chairs but then changed my mind. I shuffled some stuff around the bedroom, including a large wad of cash that might’ve been Jessie’s. While I did this I figured I’d have trouble sleeping and would be up listening to music long after they crashed.

THURSDAY, JUNE 9, 2016 Sometimes I wonder if I should drop ALL meds and ALL docs. They’ve made me worse, not better. But the suffering I’m once again doing (mostly anxiety in the solar plexus that I call butterflies, fatigue, dizziness and a few hot flashes) can’t have anything to do with the levothyroxine at this point. At least I don’t think I could have pocket flares that could bring my T4 high enough to make me anxious. Plus, this isn’t the kind of anxiety I’d have on the levothyroxine.

Headaches, toe pain, ear pain, anxiety, depression, beat downs, hot flashes, fatigue, lightheadedness… it never ends. Dark thoughts cloud my mind once again, and once again I wonder how much more I can take. Will I ever get better? I’ve been asking this on and off for nearly two years now.

I went from the freeloaders’ grasp to poverty to this. How sad. And yes, very negative. Sorry, sis, but it’s why I resorted to private blogging. I’m having more bad days than good lately. My bursts of wakefulness and energy are getting scarce. Believe me, I actually miss some of my old/lesser problems. I wish noisy neighbors and landscaping were my worst problems in life.

This definitely can’t be a lingering effect of statins either. I felt horrible yesterday till Tom got up, and borderline from when I got up till just a little while ago. I did sleep better last night too, so I took the opportunity to get some cleaning done and did a 10-minute walk by making two rounds around the circle. The weather was beautiful. When I did it a couple of evenings ago it was cool and windy.

I just miss the old me and I wonder if I’m ever going to have her back again for more than a few weeks or a few months if I’m really lucky. I don’t get it… my life gets better, but I fall apart? I’m tired of feeling as tired as an old lady and I’m sick of feeling like the unhealthy person I’m not.

Dr. A continues to frustrate me and said exactly what we expected her to say; that she thinks hot flashes could be responsible for perimenopause, but believes most of my anxiety is my medication phobia. Oh, come on! Anyone knows that my symptoms are very common for perimenopause, and what about my other phobias? I fear spiders and heights yet they never made me feel the way I felt when I was on higher doses of Levothyroxine and when I took the Statin. It’s just frustrating that no one seems to believe me because how can she really help me and work with me otherwise? I just can’t believe that not one single doctor I’ve seen has mentioned peri.

I can’t blame yesterday on the statins since I’m not on them now. Again, I’ve never been this way before two years ago and this is very uncharacteristic of me. No booming heart yesterday, though, and I still worry the statins may have caused that and the excessive bowel movements. It’s sometimes hard to tell exactly what’s causing what when so many things can mimic the same symptoms. But I know what’s normal for me and some things are just rather obvious. Tom and I both would be willing to bet just about anything that the vast majority of my symptoms are perimenopause and that certain medications can enhance those symptoms.

I can see waiting to test my thyroid and cholesterol in the fall, but why wait till then for the estrogen/hormone tests? I just don’t get that.

Another thing that frustrates me is all the fucking foreign doctors out there whose first language isn’t English. This calls for the patients to have a harder time understanding them due to their accents, and them possibly having a harder time understanding us as well. If I wanted an Ecuadorian doctor, I’d go to Ecuador.

Like Tom said, we’re not locked into these doctors or this Medical Group. Yeah, but like Charlotte said, would getting a different doctor or group really make any difference? I would still prefer older American doctors whose first language is English and who are more likely to understand perimenopause if they’ve gone through it themselves. No wonder someone’s review said Doc A doesn’t do well with older patients. 55-57 would be a good age group for doctors for me. Old enough to understand, but young enough to be my doctor as long as we’re here.

Again, I wonder if I should say “fuck A” and try the estrogen Tammy recommended, but you know me… always afraid to try anything.

Although I still think the statins are going to escalate my anxiety and give me the runs and a booming heart again, I’m willing to give it one final try, but as I told the doctor, this might not be until early July. Tom is going to try to get time off around the holiday, which would give him 9 days off counting weekends, and he would only be taking 4 of his vacation days off. I worry about hogging up too many of his days too fast with all the fucking appointments I’ve got. Or worse, he getting fired and then a low-paying job with an American company that doesn’t give as many days off per year. Sometimes I wonder if something up there led him to this job, knowing it was going to pick on me and that I’d need all kinds of doctors. I just want to be happy! I want the anxiety, fears and worries to just fucking stop! Stress is one thing, anxiety is another. I’d rather worry about things in my mind than feel the physical effects of the anxiety like the butterflies and racy heart.

Worst case scenario I tell the doc that Take-Two failed and ask if there are alternatives to statins. If she remains stubborn with a statin-or-nothing attitude and won’t help me find what’s right for me, then yes, I’ll be done with her. Meanwhile, I highly doubt I’ll die the next day or the day after. I couldn’t get that lucky.

She also recommended getting in to see Stacey and a new psychiatrist since Dr. L left. Even though I don’t see what good that’s going to do me, I made an appointment with the only doctor they had available. Sure enough, it’s male and foreign. Asian this time. I looked up Dr. Chiu to see what he looked like and confirmed my Asian suspicions. Can’t get in till December, though. Stacey, I’ll see in 10 days. Her I’m kind of looking forward to even if it’s more time and money that Tom says not to worry about because she really listens and has been the most helpful so far.

I don’t know what to do for now, though. Do I tap more often? Do I try giving prayer another shot? I hate to say it, but coincidence or not, prayer did seem to keep things going in the OR dump as well as after our motel crisis. Only problem is I don’t know if I believe in God, or that it’s a very good God with all the shit I see going on in this world, along with what I’m going through. It’s hard to believe it would care, but I guess it can’t hurt to try.

I looked in last year’s journal for when I did the Return to Sender spell. Did it on December 30th. Things got worse before they got better. The first week of January was bad, then it got better… until the statin. Can one tiny 10 mg pill really do all that? Probably not all of it, but I still think it did part of it.

Then there’s the rock. That possibly cursed quartzite rock from that possibly cursed land. It may seem silly as hell, but just in case unpacking it and handling had a hand in making me worse, it’s sitting out in the trash now.

I can’t help but ask… why is this happening to me so severely? Why do some women make the transition so easily while I get to sit and suffer big time? I feel so cursed, but then I think how lucky I am not to be blind or paralyzed or anything like that.

So much for hoping for a shorter, lighter period. It’s a little shorter, but definitely had more kick than the last one.

Tom said he wants to pull my medical records from the thyroid ultrasound done at Sutter cuz he swears there was something there about my arteries looking good. Well, the 16th will tell us if there’s likely to be any imminent danger, and again, I couldn’t get that lucky. Then again, while dying instantly may be “lucky,” I wouldn’t be so lucky if I ended up parlayed on one side like Nana Bella.

As I was telling Tom, as strange as it may seem, the two years we were in the OR dump may not have been perfect, and I hated the climate, but it’s the only place he and I ever lived where our lives weren’t predominately bad in some way.

Phoenix = money and freeloader issues. Maricopa = money and freeloader issues. Duplex = money and neighbor issues. Dump = winning and shopping. Trailer = money and mutt issues. Here = terror, terror, terror!

And the next state? Really, I hate to think that those two years could’ve been our “best” years despite not having shit. That place was a total dump and we had shit for furniture. I had yet to know what real insecurity was. I could read without prescription glasses. I wasn’t as fat. I had no concept of the true meaning of the word anxiety.

More to write about, but not enough energy. I’ll just end this entry by saying that I “did the right thing” by giving my nieces my number in case they ever want to call and chat. But I’m SO glad to know I’m the last person they’d call to cry about their wonderful little daddy! Again, I’m sorry for them. Being in your 20s is awfully young to lose a parent. But I hate the guy with just as much of a passion as I did in 2000.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 8, 2016 Heard from Tammy who’s in pain and expecting more surgery next Monday. So much for her own positive attitude, but there is some good news… the guy who helped cost me my freedom and us thousands of dollars is now in the hospice. Yay for us, boo for the girls. At least I would think Tammy’s “yaying” and Lisa’s not “booing.” IDK, though, cuz I once saw a pic of her and Bill, arm in arm at some kind of family function, smiling happily at each other, and did a real WTF? I would think Lisa’s more right in the head than she was in 2009 or 2010 or whenever it was that she went ballistic on me, but who knows? Many victims of abuse still worship their abusers, and I even wondered if Tammy was still in love with the bastard when the unwanted subject of him came up in Florida.

I told Tom I hoped to hell his theory of those in the afterlife not being able to affect the living is correct, cuz he’d shit on me every chance he got if he could. Tom doesn’t think he can do anything when you consider how many assholes out there have it well, and how many good people are suffering. This is part of what makes me unsure if there is a God. Besides, if they could influence us, wouldn’t my parents have seen to it that we won big bucks? Well, we didn’t win the smart home in NC or else they’d have ambushed us with the news by now.

So much more I want to write about, but I slept like shit and so I feel like shit. I only slept 6.5 hours and am VERY fatigued and dizzy. Got enough of a period to need to take something for the cramps too, but I’m hoping it will be shorter and lighter like the last one. Hopefully, I won’t have to spend nearly 3 weeks waterlogged before the next one either.

It’s just so fucking frustrating cuz it never ends. I have a few good days here and there and that’s it. I have shit for energy most days where I used to have an overabundance of it. It sucks. It really does. I want to write, I want to take my Italian lesson, I want to work on my story, I want to start some ideas I had, but I just don’t have the energy. Gotta go lay down now. Maybe later I can write more.

Later…

At the risk of sounding as negative as Tammy pointed out… I’m not only fatigued as hell and dizzy (my right ear rang for a minute and I had a huge head rush earlier in the shower) but depressed as well. I cried a bit and wished Tom were up, but was glad he wasn’t so I wouldn’t depress him, too.

I’m just sick of suffering most days and feeling like an unhealthy person who really isn’t. In the past when I’d be shorted on sleep and a bit tired, I’d still be able to get more done than I have today, and I’d even be pissed cuz I’d usually perk up at the end of my day. Only now I’m so fatigued that I feel drugged. I miss my energy! I’m still afraid I’m never going to get better. It’s like sinking into this quicksand you can’t pull yourself out of.

Tom was right… people are either overly sympathetic or they complain that you complain. That’s why I stopped public blogging. I don’t need either one of those things yet I got the same thing when I broke my arm; I either got smothered or turned against. Why is everyone so black and white? But society’s warped attitude isn’t my problem. I’m my problem. And I feel like I’m never going to be able to fix it.

I’m pissed that the doc has blown me off. I feel like she’s not being helpful enough, but when she does do something to help it backfires on me. :( Why can’t I just take whatever pills they recommend and be ok? I am so fucking frustrated that I wonder if I’m going to eventually lose my will to even live. I’m just not a strong person.

I fear that she’ll never believe me no matter how much I try to tell her that extreme anxiety is NOT normal for me and I don’t think it was all just me manifesting the side effects through my fears. I fear spiders and heights, yet still don’t react that way. In my most stressful times in life, I never reacted that way. So why now???

I still want the option of going back to visit Hawaii someday from here or to sail/fly to Jamaica from Florida if we move there, yet none of that will be possible if I feel this bad this often. I’m not having a few bad days anymore. I’m having a few good days. :(

I still like the idea (I think) of moving near family, but then again, what could they do if something went wrong? Tammy’s got her own problems, I don’t know that I trust Becky and Sarah, (especially Sarah), and Lisa wants nothing to do with me.

I think of some aspects of the past and miss them. I didn’t know as much then as I do now, but I also didn’t know what it was like to have scary beat downs and I miss those days. Those young, carefree, adventurous days where my worst crisis was usually a kick-ass sneezing fit. Ugh, gonna cry again. :( Maybe it’s time to tap for depression?

Later…

Well, I did perk up a bit after some tapping, coffee and food, but we’ll see how long it lasts.

I asked Tammy, but she doesn’t know how old Mom was when her periods stopped. This period is still lighter overall in that I haven’t needed a big pad, but who knows what tomorrow may bring? Hard to believe it’ll pick up at this point, though.

If there’s anything good to her marriage with the little weasel not working out (and I told her this) it’s that if it had, she would be about to become a widow and she’s not even 60.

I’d like to think Bill’s suffering, but what’s sad is that unlike what we’ll have, he has this really great support system. If I really did die before Tom, whom would he have? No one? A bunch of strangers who don’t feel anything for him?

Tom said that he sees things differently than I do, and it’s true. He does. He said that even if he got cancer right now, suffered and then died in 5 years, it’s still a small percentage of his life. I totally see his point, but that 5 years may seem like a lifetime. The more we suffer, the more time slows to a crawl. It sure does for me anyway.

I just wish I could stop worrying about an end that’s not here yet. Until something actually happens to one of us other than me feeling like shit, why worry? But I do. All the fucking time. What if, for example, we’re both “destined” to live to 85? Well, that would mean I’d still have 8 years to go after he died. No way. Just no fucking way. Not only would I not be able to fend for myself, but even if I could, I couldn’t live with the horrible, horrible depression of knowing I’d never see him again.

And then there’s the suicide issue. What if I don’t have the guts to go through with it or I fuck it up? If I’m afraid to take something I’m pretty sure won’t kill me, then how could I take/do something I was sure would kill me? So if I couldn’t kill myself, but I couldn’t live, where would that leave me? Forced to commit a crime so I could at least have a prison house/feed me? And maybe give me medication I needed that I could actually stand to take? I would have to do it right cuz I couldn’t stand the depression of not having Tom no matter where I lived.

Later…

Another lie. Yeah, I happened to glance at the list of new users on Prosebox and thought a certain one sounded like something she would pick. Does she want to be obvious? I clicked on the name, and sure enough, I was blocked. So much for “severing” those ties, huh? I knew damn well she/they’d be back sooner or later.

I asked Tom if he thought the constant creating and deleting of accounts meant they were up to no good. He said it could be the case, or they at least think they’re doing something wrong. Whatever the reason, I’m SICK to death of them playing victim over there. So not wanting to be public anymore anyway, I deleted that account and disappeared in the night. Now they can only play their blocking games on Google and Facebook. Pretty sure they don’t use LiveJournal, and my-diary has no blocking. Also, if they do block me on other sites, I won’t know it.

I created another account in a bogus name. I casually scanned the room and my eyes rested on a doll called Peyton. So Peyton I am, with a close-up of a golden retriever for a profile pic. No age, gender or bio info is visible on me, though the gender should be obvious. Most people who keep a journal/diary are female anyway.

What was surprising was that after resurrecting my old Twitter account long enough to mention SaltyAlty and call out an account of Kim’s, which I even tweeted to, she totally ignored me. I fully expected her to run and change the link, but nope. So now I’m back to using just my secret Twitter account to tweet whatever comes to mind, some of which I may not even bother to mention in my journal.

I copied all my Prosebox books to the new account but the journals. I have a plan for that which I’ll discuss in my next entry. I’m out of energy to write much more, and it looks like today’s Italian lesson and getting any work done on my story will be out of the question.

A couple of quick dreams: In one, I was being interviewed. The interviewer and I were outside a poor, rundown apartment complex with the neighborhood people watching.

“You recently moved from a posh neighborhood to this. How does it make you feel?” the interviewer asked me.

“Well,” I said, “the other place was more comfortable, but poor folks are more real.”

Then there were the pistol-packing ladies in pink gowns. I was talking with a woman about guns, and she pointed to a picture of some people at some social event. Her daughter wore a long hot pink gown, and she told me she had a gun on her. I thought she hid it very well as the woman went on to say that she’d had some weird boyfriends, so the protection was nice to have.

TUESDAY, JUNE 7, 2016 Period’s late again. I get watery and my boobs get sore, then it lessens. Then it creeps up on me again. But no period other than that spot from two nights ago.

Did a quick public entry on Blogger and then on Prosebox to let Karen know about the anxiety. Charlotte said it probably wouldn’t be helpful to get a new doctor since they can’t know about every single symptom but the important/common ones.

Then this came in:

Jodi, Dr A and I reviewed your message below and we understand your anxiety regarding taking medications. We are very concerned about your risk for cardiovascular disease including heart attack and stroke at a young age due to your very elevated cholesterol levels. You are likely having a surge of stress hormones related to your worries about medications–this leads to symptoms of elevated heart rate, shaking, diarrhea, sometimes even lightheadedness. We recommend a re-trial of the pravastatin at this very low dose. We could even arrange for you to take this in the clinic for the first and second doses so that you have medical attention for evaluation if needed. We really want to work with you to reduce risk and try to calm your fears related to these medications.

Please let me know how you want to proceed.

As I explained to them, the symptoms didn’t start as soon as I took the medication. I explained that I took it Thursday and Saturday night and that I awoke a few hours after the first dose with a sore throat, which Tom also had, and that went away in a day. The frequent bowel movements started right away, but the attack occurred about a day and a half after the last dose.

Again, having found it listed as a rare but possible side effect online, and not having this kind of anxiety before a couple of years ago, makes me think the peri is affecting how the meds affect me. I still don’t think it’s all just me worrying. I was actually beginning to relax and think I had it made after the second dose.

Although… I was first started on a higher dose of Simvastatin, so if it was really that that caused some anxiety, all the shitting I did, and the weight loss, why did it take half a year to do it?

So some things support their belief that it’s just my phobia making me anxious, while others suggest it’s the peri/meds.

Although it was rough, this time around was less hellish than when the levothyroxine got me last fall. This time I didn’t have the band of tightness around the chest or any funky emotions. I just felt wound up and then my heart took off booming. Not quite as fiercely as when I was on the levothyroxine, but fierce enough to make me very glad I wasn’t working out at the time.

Not sure what they mean by “clinic” either. I’m assuming this means that I would take the meds at their office and not a hospital? If I could have a doctor around 24-7 then I would consider a retrial, but I don’t think they’re going to put me in the hospital for this. Besides, even if they did, what’s to say I might not have problems later on down the road?

Then Tom had an idea. After I clarified things for them and told them I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next, he said to wait till I heard back from them and think about him taking a week or so off from work. Aw, that’s so sweet of him. I feel so grateful yet so guilty at the same time. Not a great way to spend time off, though I’m sure he’d agree that anything is better than working. He gets 5-6 hours off for every 2 weeks of work.

Last night I had a dream I was talking to Linda Ronstadt, only she looked young and thin again. I told her I once had a crush on her and asked her what she thought of that idea. She smiled, laughed, and didn’t seem fazed or offended by the idea, but then she started talking about God, and I immediately regretted revealing my crush.

In another dream, I was in a beauty store of some kind where there were scattered sections of nail polish. I had most of them in my collection and was telling a mother and daughter about the ones I had.

The daughter commented on a bright glow-in-the-dark color and I told her I had that and that it was lighter than it appeared.

The mother then showed me her deep purple nails and I said, “That’s Twilight. I have that one, too.”

MONDAY, JUNE 6, 2016 Bad news. News I wouldn’t dare tell Tammy or anyone else.

The statins backfired on me. Just when I thought I had it made, too. I noticed I felt more on edge than usual last night. I wrote it off to just being nervous about it being the start of the workweek and him having to work every single day, even though it seemed a bit extreme since my anxiety has been mild since January.

I went to bed and told myself I’d feel better in the morning, especially since I wouldn’t be getting up too early, and therefore wouldn’t feel like I had as many hours to be alone. But I lied to myself as much as Dr. A apparently did when she told me it couldn’t cause anxiety. Well, it can. It’s rare, but according to what we found online, it very well can. Even the pharmacist was dishonest, in a sense, by saying it couldn’t kill me. You can actually have a life-threatening allergic reaction from it.

I felt an underlying sense of anxiety since getting up at 10:30, but managed to get through the day’s planned housekeeping. Then just after 2pm, my heart pounded into the 130s. Well, Fitbit showed it at 135, but online it was averaged out to 116. I don’t wear it round the clock, but mostly when I sleep instead. It was too fast and too hard. Let’s just put it that way. This isn’t my only symptom. I’ve also been shitting my ass off.

So Tammy and Karen in Texas were right… statins CAN cause anxiety. Why did Doc A lie to me? Now I’m wondering if I should get another doctor, though I hate to have to put myself out and start all over again with yet another doctor. She should’ve told me anxiety was unlikely but possible.

Because I panicked and called Tom, he suggested seeing Stacey again, and I might if it doesn’t ease up soon. I’m hoping it won’t take 3 months to recover since I didn’t take it for a month like I took the 88s for a month.

Although the attack didn’t last long, I had a horrible thought later on. It’s not likely, but what if I had a pocket flare and the anxiety is from my thyroid meds? God, I hope not! No tightness in the lungs, though, or funky emotions, so I’m still hoping it’ll dissipate soon… even though my problems are rarely short and sweet.

I’m 99% sure it is the statins, and this has taught me something, too. The weight I lost two summers ago was because of the statins, not the levothyroxine, which would explain why I didn’t lose weight last fall. The statins don’t just make me anxious; they lower my appetite and make me shit up a storm.

Another strange thing (though I don’t think this has to do with either drug) is that I can’t try to get myself off without my heart pounding like a motherfucker. In that case, there’s no anxiety involved; it just pounds like a possessed hammer.

I guess something up there doesn’t want me taking anything to keep me from a stroke or a heart attack, though Tom says there are alternatives to statins. Like what? And what’s to say they won’t cause the same problems? It seems I can’t take hardly anything without it fucking me up. I’m just tired of suffering! TIRED of it! We’ve almost been here 3 years and I’ve suffered about two-thirds of the time. As I told Tom, I worry I won’t make it to his retirement and to get out of here someday. He said I thought the same thing about the trailer. True, but you know what? I’d rather die of a sudden heart attack than live to suffer! You know that perfect vision I said I missed most from my youth? Not anymore! I miss not having anything worse than a bad case of stress. Never did I have anxiety like I’ve had the last two years.

I was hoping I’d feel calmer with age, but an article I read doesn’t suggest I will. It said that older people have more problems, so they worry more. Also, they take lots of medications, many of which can make them anxious. Not very promising, but I think I’ll feel better when Tom’s retired if I live that long. I miss the days of feeling smothered by his constant presence like when he was on unemployment. I used to love spending most of my time alone. Not anymore!

I was stunned when Tom read an article about a guy with arrhythmia whose heart was clocked at 310 BPM!

I’m not sure I can fully trust A. She’s going to leave me with sleeplessness and lightheaded issues (other than to do the carotid ultrasound) all summer long? And she’s going to tell me something can’t cause anxiety that can?

I messaged her, told her what happened, and that I was stopping the statins.

Tapping still helps, but it doesn’t get rid of the anxiety completely or keep it from returning when it does. Speaking of it, though, all of a sudden I feel fine again. breathes a huge sigh of relief I don’t know how long it’ll last but I’m THRILLED to say that I just noticed I suddenly went as calm as can be. No anxiety. It’s like it’s gone. Just gone. I’d be shouting for joy if Tom wasn’t asleep, but instead, I cry tears of relief after crying tears of frustration and depression. I hope the worst of it is over! Anxiety is THAT bad. I’d go blind and gain 100 pounds first. Still concerned with what the future may hold, but gonna enjoy this wave of calmness while it lasts.

Wonder if the Ylang Ylang helped at all. I just remembered that when the dentist and I were talking about oils, she mentioned lavender and Ylang Ylang having calming effects. I knew about the lavender, but not the Ylang Ylang, so I threw a few drops in the diffuser.

Managed to work out, though not as long as I wanted to. I was hot, flushed in the face, lightheaded, and my heart pounded.

Anyway, my carotid ultrasound has been rescheduled for 8am on the 16th. Just not sure what doctor I’m seeing at the sleep clinic. I was given one name over the phone, but another name has been checked on the pre-appointment questionnaire I received today.

As for my period… it’s getting stranger all the time. Had a spot last night, but absolutely nothing today. Still got sore boobs and lots of water on me, though.

I rearranged some areas of the laundry room, hallway, and bedroom. I’m a little tired and lightheaded to do much more than listen to my audiobook for the rest of the night, but anyway, I came across a couple of rocks, one of which I shouldn’t have saved.

The first one is a white rock I got in SoCal in the mid-90s. Hardly exciting anymore since I now live in the state.

But then there’s that quartzite rock from our Maricopa land. If the land was as cursed as it seemed to be, then was it wise to take the rock from it? My life may not have gotten nearly as terrifying there as it has here, but it was pretty damn shitty being a slave to the freeloaders and courts the way I was. They fucking owned me. I wasn’t me for most of the 5 years we were there. I was just a number.

In my dream notes, I wrote that I was bike riding at night and something about parked cars and Donna A, the old evil witch, but can’t remember any details. Oh well.

SUNDAY, JUNE 5, 2016 This is too funny. Tom went to the grocery store and said he decided to try Gelato instead of ice cream to see what the difference was. I burst out laughing and let him know that Gelato was simply the Italian word for ice cream. So he really wanted to see if there was a difference between ice cream and ice cream, LMAO!!!

We went to the pool and it was nice. Just slightly chilly, but nice. It’s in the mid-90s out there.

Met a woman named Mona who works full time (and of course she couldn’t be our neighbor) who was nice, but never shut up. I prefer those that talk here and there as opposed to non-stop where you just want to cork their mouths with your flip-flop.

Doing the emotional tapping and feeling more awake so far today. No pain, minimal dizziness.

The pill dreams are back, but the last one I had didn’t scare me at all, and probably wouldn’t have even if Tom hadn’t been home. I took a small cupful of 8 tiny pills in the dream but wasn’t trying to kill myself or even scared. They were pills I had to take for some reason. I dread the day I’m on that many pills!

Rode my bike alone in another dream and turned around somewhere at the bottom of the rollercoaster. I felt ok; I just needed to get back in a hurry for some reason, unless I was going somewhere else.

Had a dream that the old lady in Grande Prairie was frail and ill. I hugged her and told her she’d been like a grandmother to me.

Wondering if something was wrong with her in real life, I did a FO entry, but she did view it, so she’s alive.

SATURDAY, JUNE 4, 2016 OMG, Facebook really needs to stop shoving headlines in our faces! Argh! I’ve had it so much with them (and the lack of privacy issues) that I’ve removed Facebook from my toolbar so I don’t absent-mindedly click in. I’ll check it every other day by accessing it the old-fashioned way.

A fucking judge (it’s gotta be male) gave a rapist just 6 months instead of 6 years in jail to “lessen the impact” on him.

That’s what I got for a fucking letter! OMG, I wish I could strangle both the rapist and judge to death right now! Ugh! So mad now. So yeah, it’s best that I blog for myself. I don’t think my “negativity” has others concerned only for how it could affect me, but for how it could affect them as well to read it. And sometimes, like it or not, my “negativity” is just the truth. It’s a very negative article I’m talking about, but it happened. It’s real. And I’m through with the people-pleasing shit. Tammy may’ve really meant well, but how much of her “concerns” were that she was just tired of reading it? And then why did she continue to anyway?

I can’t fucking believe, though I can, that a rapist would get what I got for words on paper. And all because it was to a black person. Had the person been white I may’ve gotten 90 days if even that.

Thanks, God. You’re just so fucking wonderful.

Throat’s ok, slept ok, but after I ate the fatigue got me again, another thing Tammy wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear. “Perimenopause is rough,” she said. Yes, it is. And I have a right to say so in my journal, too. That’s what it’s FOR.

I complained to Twitter Support – yes, another negative thing – about the lockout issues, which I suspect, are glitches on their part, but they’ve ignored me. I wonder if Aly’s account wasn’t deactivated but locked. Maybe I’ll return to Histofme if it happens a 4th time.

Later…

Had so much fatigue today that I couldn’t finish writing. That’s the beauty of private writing; no deadlines to feel pressured into meeting. Throat’s ended up being sore on and off too, but Tom’s also had a scratchy feeling in his throat. Really hope it’s not my statins! Taking my second dose tonight, so we’ll see.

While I had a burst of energy I got a head start on the home reorganization project I’ve been planning for weeks. I’m looking forward to doing more of it as energy permits.

Tom replaced the broken stem in my shower and while it may not look the greatest, it’s much easier to turn on and off and doesn’t drip.

For last night’s dream, I got a call about a job, had ice cream late one night somewhere with Tom before we caught a bus, and played with an adorable brown rat Tammy might’ve caught from wherever. It was cute and playful. I kissed its back and Tammy shrieked, “Don’t touch him!” I asked why and she said, “Because we don’t know where he’s been.”

FRIDAY, JUNE 3, 2016 Happy 29th birthday to Becky, and thank you, Tammy, for clinching my decision to stop public journaling. Now I have the freedom to say what I want, whine all I want, be as negative as I want, be as controversial as I want, be as blunt as I want… all without censoring names or anything personal.

It's not that she said anything wrong and it isn't that she didn't have a point when we talked yesterday and she mentioned that my blog was very negative and that it was affecting my health and moods. Even so, to me, nobody should hold back in their journals, even if that means an over-expression of negative thoughts, experiences and feelings.

When she mentioned my fear of being left alone, she was under the impression that I felt this as of just last week instead of months ago, and I realized that she had no concept as to the depth of what I went through, saying I’ve got it made compared to her and others, I’d never make it in her shoes, etc. She’s probably right, but her suffering doesn’t devalue mine. Yet understandably, it's very hard to really relate when you haven't gone through something somebody else has. Without experiencing firsthand how the higher doses of Levothyroxine affected me both physically and emotionally, she's never going to get just how bad it was. It was a medical disorder making me have those fears, not a conscious choice. I didn't choose or decide to feel afraid. Still, I get her point. She may not get it like many don’t get my sleep disorder, but yeah, I can be harsh and negative all the way.

But the thing is that while I don’t want to worry others or bring them down in any way (is it really anyone’s business anyway?) I have a right to be me. I don’t feel ashamed or a shred of guilt for speaking my mind and I welcome back the days of writing for me and for me only. I miss being “selfish” with my writing. Unless it was a work of fiction I was being paid fairly for, I never wanted to write for an audience. Yes, public blogging was fun and maybe I’ll return to it someday, but people reading and commenting on my journals have lost its excitement, and visitor tracking is nothing new anymore either. So… time to write for me and be me. I’m not even going to worry so much about spelling and grammar. Just gonna pour it all out.

I’m nobody’s liar. I’m not going to sugarcoat a negative experience or omit it completely just to not come off as negative. I’m going to do what I’ve always done and simply write what comes to mind. Sometimes it will be negative. Sometimes it will be neutral. Other times it will be positive. But yes, I need to worry less and think more positively. It’s just hard to when you’re either worried or not feeling well.

I’m still going to use my blogs because the different platforms are fun and they make for a good backup. They just won’t be public. I know my 4 Prosebox besties are going to wonder where the hell I am, but I get a kick out of Andy and Aly wondering where the hell I am. I mean, sooner or later they’re going to check out my blog out of curiosity, I would think.

So I’m going to blog privately on Blogger and Prosebox and put a hold on my dream blogs for now. They really don’t serve much purpose anyway, and I can always gather future dreams to post later on if I want to.

Not gonna back these posts up to blogs every single day. More like every 10 days or so.

Might also drop the book list, too. It serves no real purpose either. I don’t need to remember what I’ve read cuz Amazon tells me if I accidentally go to order a book I’ve already got.

Since I only have one appointment between now and September, believe it or not, I think I might take a break from my allergy spray. It’s not the time of year for nasal allergies, but if I have an attack, at least I won’t have to worry about sneezing through appointments and can jump back on it if need be.

Finally slept better last night and therefore I’m in a better mood. Got the laundry done today, the grocery list, and completed a handful of other tasks. I found a good way to use up our remaining pods as we transition to liquid detergent, is to put it in the sock bag. That way it can’t get stuck in the seal again.

So while it was through teary eyes of fear that Tammy and most of the public wouldn’t get, I bravely swallowed my first half a Pravastatin last night. Woke up with a slightly sore throat, but then it diminished. Hopefully, it won’t become more of an issue the more I take. I would really like to safely reduce my risk of a heart attack or a stroke, something no one wants to believe can really happen to them.

I don’t fucking believe it. Twitter locked my account again. It’s GOT to be a glitch. Again, I verified my number, unlocked it, then deactivated it. I’m not going to play games with these assholes.

Last night I dreamed I was checking out pictures of Alyssa on my computer with Tom asleep in the adjacent room. As usual, the place didn’t look like ours. I heard a bump and assumed that Tom bumped his arm against the exterior wall above his bed.

Ah, it was nice to write like it was pre-June of 2008 again!

THURSDAY, JUNE 2, 2016 Today’s observation: Aly changed her Twitter handle, not surprisingly. Well, I actually noticed last night. I was surprised I never found the new one through a friend of hers. I would love to think she finally had enough of Kim’s shit and just dumped her and Twitter forever while she sits and regrets dumping her one sane friend that was honest with her, but I’m sure she just didn’t re-follow the friend, knowing anyone could look for her that way.

I’m so done with her, though, that I deleted her from my contacts on my phone. Under no circumstances will I ever again talk to her, Andy, Maliheh, Paula or Nane. It was her decision to throw me away and she’s going to have to live with it.

The only thing that confuses me (not that I’m complaining) is why I haven’t heard from Molly or her mother. Scared of me? Yeah, probably. They should be too, though any future contact would go ignored unless they wouldn’t let me ignore them. Like I should have taught the freeloaders, put your hand far enough into a lion’s den and you just might not be able to yank it back out so easily.

I expected to sleep better last night, even without lorazepam, but instead, I slept worse. Finally took a lorazepam 4 or 5 hours after waking up constantly and slept a little better from there on out. Like it or not, I’m going to have to take one before bed till I get through this so I can sleep shitty instead of super shitty.

Just wondering what it was I did to deserve this shit. It’s like I’m healthy but don’t feel healthy. Technically I’m healthy, but with so many issues to deal with, minor or not, and with so many appointments, I feel like I’m anything but healthy. Again, I wonder what I did to deserve it, but that’s just the thing. Just like so many people tell themselves there’s a good loving God up there, I tried to tell myself I must deserve to suffer for some reason, but you know what? I don’t. I don’t deserve to suffer. I may not be perfect, but I didn’t beat anyone up. I didn’t rip them off. I didn’t break into their house. And I don’t deserve to suffer.

I just feel overwhelmed right now. I’m starting the statins tonight so I’m anxious about that. I’m a bit down now, but mostly pissed, frustrated and feeling helpless. While it’s great that I’ll only have one appointment between now and September, I’m not going to the lab or the sleep doctor until then. So what do I do in the meantime as far as my sleep goes? Just continue to not sleep and to feel like shit most of the time? She was afraid to recommend anything OTC, saying she wouldn’t have any way to guarantee side effects as easily that way.

It really sucks because while I’m tired, I’m not tired enough to go back to bed for another hour or two and catch up on lost sleep. So I’m dragging all damn day with barely enough energy to do things. I do them, but I really have to push myself and take several breaks along the way where I just close my eyes and rest.

I don’t get it, though. My sleep HR did register low enough for better sleep, yet I kept waking up constantly. I even woke up warm once and my heart was about to take off racing. I pushed the covers off and let the air from the fan rush over me.

Anyway, I’m on for Dr. A, the sleep doctor, and my dentist in September. I scheduled the ultrasound for the 13th, but might have to reschedule because Tom doesn’t think my schedule will line up for that day. Me and my fucking math!

I’m going to hold off on bumping the dentist up sooner because I haven’t had much pain in that tooth. Fortunately, the sleep doctor seems to be an American guy. I just get sick of the funky accents, and getting American doctors these days is hit or miss. Trump wants to “make America great again?” Let’s try putting the American back in America.

Since nothing lasts forever and I assume that someday – someday – this shit will end which I still suspect is mostly perimenopause-related (possibly sleep apnea, too), it’ll just be on to something else. I seem to have one long-term problem after another. I still say it was a lot easier being broke.

At least it hasn’t been noisy today… yet. Yesterday it was landscaping, and the day before that it was 45 minutes of sawing trees, but that wasn’t in the park. That was just over the wall where the golf course is. The car stereos, also which might not be coming from in the park, are totally annoying at this time of year. Not even an hour passes that I don’t hear one thumping by. I STILL can’t believe the damn things are STILL legal. But don’t you dare hurt anybody’s poor precious, sensitive, eggshell feelings with your opinions and beliefs! rolls eyes

It’s been very hot and dry. It’s nice in the shade, but my God have I gotten sun-sensitive lately! Is it age? Cuz I’m fat? Something else? I just can’t handle being in direct sunlight for long when it’s over 80° unless I’ve got a pool nearby.

To finish up with yesterday… We went to Smog-n-Go for emissions testing which took no time at all since it’s a luxury car. Didn’t care for the little girl in the waiting room who just couldn’t shut the hell up. Not just that, but the damn brat was so LOUD. I could hear it all the way in the bathroom. After several minutes of waiting outside, its father led it to their car and it was still yacking non-stop. How do the parents deal with this shit on a regular basis and not want to tear their hair out, throw their hands up and scream, “Will you just shut up already!” My mother never would’ve let me go on at the mouth that loud or that consistently. It’s like, my God, make it come up for air at least while it’s around other people, will ya?

Went to Chili’s after the car was done and got beef quesadillas and French fries that weren’t very good. Our food only cost $3, though, since we used the GC he got from work.

Went treasure hunting at the GW after that and got a couple of sun catchers and a pair of pink scissors.

Last stop was to Walmart to pick up my statins. I’ll be anxiously starting that tonight. I just want to stop having so many damn problems! I miss those 15 years I didn’t go to doctors, though right now my biggest problem is sleeping. I just want a decent night’s sleep a little more often. Is that too much to ask for?

As for my weight… I’ve been in the low 150s lately and decided to compromise. Although I still don’t think I can do it, I’ll aim for 145 rather than 120. I shouldn’t have any issues at that weight. It’s only 6 pounds away, but to an older woman with Hashimoto’s, it may as well be 60.

Last night I dreamed we were still living with Jesse. He had one of his many projects lined up and I asked him when he planned to start working on whatever he was going to work on next. He said, “I don’t care about your schedule.”

I told him well, I did care and was asking so I could be up when he’d be working.

Then I was sitting by an indoor pool of his. A few others were swimming in it. At one point I patted some guy on the back and told them they were like a big brother to me. They didn’t seem too thrilled with that idea.

Then we were in a hotel. I was asleep when a few bumps and bangs woke me up from the next room. I got up, thinking it was daytime, but then when I looked out the window I could see it was still the middle of the night.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 1, 2016 Just noticed Maliheh’s got me blocked again, and no, I have no idea why any more than I can guess why Twitter locked my old account the last time they locked it. Could be the “I’d wish you a happy birthday if I gave a shit” photo card I sent her two weeks ago, but that was sent by email, not Facebook. I’ll check every month or so to see if she unblocks me again. As soon as she does, I’ll take the honor of blocking her… for good.

As for Kim, she’s definitely not reading my blog and I’m not going to bother with any further “tests” on her. I don’t care what else she sees/blocks. I just wanted to get away from her on Twitter where she has a million accounts to block me from and knows I can’t track her. She had to have been checking my tweets every few hours, though, based on how fast she’d change links after I’d mention them.

Woke up a million times throughout my sleep and slept worse than usual as Fitbit reflected. My HR only dropped to 73. It needs to be 68-71 to get me in a sound sleep. Tom noticed the same thing with him. After a good night’s sleep, he finds he drops to the high 40s, but only to the low 50s when he doesn’t sleep well. Now that my appointment is over and I have a better sense of what’s going on, I’ll probably sleep better tonight. Maybe even without the lorazepam. She’s ok with me taking it before bed if I need it, though.

Got up at 6am, took my thyroid meds, had coffee and a kiddy smoothie in a half-hour, then we were on the freeway just after 7:30.

Every year they give you a Depression Screening questionnaire, so I filled that out, confirmed my meds, then took Tom back in to see A with me so he could be an extra set of ears in case I forgot anything.

My BP was 150/90 but only cuz I was nervous. My pulse was 88, but it’s normal for me to be high.

While my lungs and heart sounded good, the doctor talked me into taking half a 10-mcg tablet of Pravastatin every other day. That’s a little less scary than daily Lipitor at 20 mg. She assured me it can’t kill me and to just stop it and let her know if I have any problems like muscle aches. For some reason, I was under the impression it could paralyze your muscles and then kill you cuz you couldn’t breathe. She said it wouldn’t make me anxious either. According to her, I should worry more if I didn’t take it than if I did as my numbers are high and so is the risk of stroke and heart attack.

While I agree that it was the wrong dose of levothyroxine that was causing my killer anxiety and not the 25 mg of Simvastatin I was on a couple of years ago, I still have a medication phobia in general, so starting the Pravastatin is going to be a little scary. I appreciate her patience and understanding, though. As she told me the first time I saw her a year and a half ago, it’s best to expose people to what they’re afraid of in small doses, pardon the pun.

She also wants to do an arterial ultrasound for what I believe is my carotid artery to make sure no blockage has been causing my dizziness. Dizziness has been better overall, though.

We discussed my perimenopause symptoms and the trouble I’ve been having sleeping, as well as my non-24 sleep disorder and suspicions of sleep apnea. She thought it would be best to go to the Sleep Disorder clinic and talk to their specialist before participating in a sleep apnea test, which will be VERY hard for me. Not just because of schedule issues but because I’m used to sleeping with a loud sound machine since everything wakes me up, and I mean everything. Forget the loud traffic and landscaping sounds; if Tom so much as sneezes or uses the microwave if I sleep with no fans or sound machines, I wake up instantly. So to fall asleep with no sound machine in a strange environment will be quite a challenge. Still not sure it’ll come to that, though. Also, she said there was a test that could be done from home, but it’s not as accurate.

Because lorazepam is a narcotic, I had to sign their yearly contract and take a random urine test. That was easy enough as often as I have to pee. At least I didn’t have to endure the humiliation of it being observed!

We explained how they wanted to charge us money we’ve never had to pay before at the lab and canceled the test after waiting for nearly an hour for nothing after having my thyroid tested 6 weeks ago. Apparently, they read the computer dates wrong. They need to stop doing that, too. That really bothers me when I end up put out due to their carelessness. What if it were something dangerous?

So as O and I agreed, my thyroid is just a hair above normal and I feel best with my T4 at 1.0 – 2.0. So I’m staying on 75 mcg.

In 3 months I’m to report back to her. The week before that I’m to go to the lab for the following list of tests.

Lipid Panel wRfx Direct LDL

CK Total

FSH Follicle Stimulating Hormone Level

Luteinizing Hormone LH

Estrogen Level Total

TSH Ultrasensitive (3rd Gen)

T4 Free

[teenmomcentral]

Kayla Sessler revealed this week that she is expecting her third child– her first with boyfriend Ryan Leigh— and received plenty of congratulatory messages, as well as criticism over the announcement. 

The former Teen Mom: Young & Pregnant star– who is set to appear on the upcoming season of Teen Mom Family Reunion– shared the news on social media by posting a photo debuting her growing baby bump. 

“Made with love,” her caption read. 

Kayla is reportedly due next month, meaning she was pregnant while filming Teen Mom Family Reunion in Colombia back in September. (The Ashley’s sources tell her that the producers knew about the pregnancy during the trip, and Kayla’s activities were restricted somewhat because of it. The pregnancy will likely be “revealed” during ‘Family Reunion’ Season 3.)

As fans know, Kayla is already a mom to two kids– daughter Ariah and son Izaiah with former fiancé Luke Davis. (Luke is not Izaiah’s biological father, but Kayla confirmed in 2022 that Luke continues to spend time with Izaiah, as “that’s his son.”) Ryan also has a son of his own from a previous relationship.

While Kayla’s pregnancy announcement was met with quite a few negative comments, she also received a handful of positive ones, including those left by her former ‘Young and Pregnant’ cast mates Kiaya Elliott, Rachel Beaver and Brianna Jaramillo. 

“FINALLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY😍😍😍😍 ” Kiaya commented on the announcement. 

“Yaaaaay!!!” Brianna added. “I can’t wait to meet the baby… you’re so beautiful love you! ”

Kayla also received some love in the comment section from other parents within the ‘Teen Mom’ franchise, including ‘Teen Mom: The Next Chapter’ stars Cheyenne Floyd, Cory Wharton, Briana DeJesus and former Teen Mom 2 star Kail Lowry. 

Kayla’s mom, Jaime Szot, reposted Kayla’s pregnancy announcement on her own page, adding a “congrats” to Kayla and Ryan. Jaime went on to respond to a number of the comments Kayla’s post received, including one criticizing her as a parent. 

“Maybe teach her about birth control and condoms,” the comment read. “3 kids with 3 different baby daddies isn’t a good look. Plus she had an abortion so that could have been baby daddy #4. Geez what a great mother you are. She’s probably already scoping out the next baby daddy.” 

Jaime replied to the individual and encouraged them to “stfu and get off my page.” 

“Such a shame that this is the type of role modeling you are teaching your daughters,” she wrote. “Women should lift each other up, or keep their mouths shut. I was taught if you have nothing nice to say to say, don’t say anything. Too bad you weren’t taught manners, just how to be a bully behind a keyboard. You have a blessed day now.” 

Jaime also revealed in the comment section that she already knows the sex of her grandchild, but is keeping it under wraps.

Kayla told followers on Wednesday that she will be uploading “all baby content”– including the gender reveal– to her YouTube channel. 

[phoenixphireinc]

With more reading, I’m learning that I have a gifted child.

Whoa. What a responsibility. I had no clue he was “gifted”. I just figured he wanted to know what’s relevant to him at this stage and the most upcoming.

Maybe it’s me pushing him. ..no, it can’t be.

If Cato didn’t want to learn ASL, he wouldn’t have. If he didn’t want to know his colors and shapes, he wouldn’t have. If Casimir Dominous didn’t want to ditch the diaper, he wouldn’t have.

Idk. This is a lot to take in! My micropreemie at 2lbs 2oz, 3 months early, with my Ehler’s Danlos Syndrome impacting his umbilical cord and rotting his placenta, determined to come out at 3:33p/c..

..is “gifted”???

Y’know, some parts of this journey haven’t been totally by surprise. Like him coming early. Having EDS and losing many pregnancies, I knew there was a high chance for complications. I was on bed rest for two and a half months. I kept having visions of and inklings to do research on preemies and how early they can be delivered. My Son was delivered four weeks older than the youngest baby to be birthed. I consumed turkey tail and lion’s mane mushroom pills when pregnant with him. I took two every other day, once a day. I was just trying to supplement what my EDS could possibly damage/ warp. Dominous’s Curriculum has been planned out long before I knew he’d be in my womb.

So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. What’s next? He’s got a great anointing and favor over his life, too?! 😂

Well, bring it on, Lord! My heart is shaking because I don’t want to share my precious little Meepy with the world but.. ..if these are the facts like I’ve witnessed them to be, then I ain’t got time to be nervous or leery. You trusted me with this boy for a reason and I am at Your service, Father God.

Like, my Son communicates like a 3yr old that’s on target, developmentally. Most children don’t want to use the potty on their own, I’m realizing, until after 2 years old! That’s outrageous, to me.. ..I potty trained myself by that age. And ridiculous. I didn’t go to daycare until I could speak, which was a safe and smart decision on part of my Parents. My guy can really comprehend and execute two- and three-part instructions. That is mindblowing!!! ..now that I think about it…

His being “gifted” seems “normal” to me. As if it’s what I anticipated, inside of myself somewhere. We even astral project into each other’s dreams cognizantly. Whhhhiiiilllld!

It.. ..happened last night, again, actually.

But we’ve been doing that since the womb, always accurately communicating telepathically. I miss that. I always miss that. Feeling your fetus smell through your nose, taste with your tongue, hear with your ears.. ..see with y o u r eyes. It’s a trippy ass feeling, for sure! But when you get used to it, it’s very saddening to have to detach from.

I miss being one person with my Son.

Thinking about today: Daddy and I were in the kitchen while Cato was upstairs. He got so pissed!

Meep said: C’mon man! Y’all go’n stop leaving me up here!

Then he started spitting like he was cussin us out 😭😭😭😭🤣

Well-audible sentences, too! 🤣

I set up a play area for him but he’s not that interested yet. So instead I ordered his play tent and his urinal, cause I’m raising an 11 Month Old - 8 Months Adjusted - grown man.

Secretly, he’s very disappointed I didn’t get his wooden work bench. My Virgo Moon is ready to work, honey! I can see him now: som’n piss him off and he go’n go pretend to saw some wood to build him a tree house so he doesn’t have to “live under my roof”. 😂

I just love him! I’m blessed. My Son is a ginormous gift I’m still processing; because, well, I didn’t get the entire 9 Months gestation with him. Tbch, I was glad everything happened the way it had, bc I was over being pregnant by the sixth month. I wasn’t pressed for him to be a preemie, I was just anxious to interact with my flower.

This guy used to tickle me, on purpose, from inside my body! And would just be so happy to feel me giggling. 🤭 I was trying to go to sleep and he just tickled and tickled until I was in uproarious laughter!

Last week, he tickled me several times in our sleep. 🤣 (I just snorted, trying not to laugh.) Cause he tickled my tummy thrice, then tickled my arm, neck, and ear.

..I am crying laughing rn.

But that wasn’t the only night. He did it three nights in a row! 😭😭😭😭 I love having such a fun, hard working man for a Son. His character and constitution are protruding, and I really love the kind of man he is. My Son is the kind of guy who doesn’t need anyone or anything but the people he loves and the tools he needs to be his most successful Self. He’s whole. He’s complete. He’s resilient. He has good strong character. He’s noble and wise.

Yes. I can tell all of this at 11 Months!

Like, thank You Lord, my favor and anointing hasn’t run out with You!

[jointimeandspace]

Headcannon: What if Alcina and her darling had a baby? Warning: Fluff, fluff, fluff! Mentions of Postpartum.

I Love Your Body, Even If You Don't (SFW)

While growing up you had always wanted children. Despite them being messy, you absolutely adored them and would do anything to see them smile and giggling. You were the oldest out of four children-living conditions weren't easy, but you and your family were happy. Being the oldest sibling sometimes feels like being a second, and/or third parent...just ask Bela; you on the other hand were happy to help your mother and father and were thrilled when they announced your siblings over the years. The love you had for your family only increased, which caused you to want to start one of your own.

After yours and Alcina's union, you discussed it with her. At first Alcina was apprehensive (considering certain things that have happened), but she felt a change was needed to the castle. She wanted to know what it would be like having a baby around since her three oldest ones didn't have much of a childhood, nor did she as a matter of fact. After a few months of planning and discussions with the girls, the decision was final: they would arrange a plan with Mother Miranda.

It took over another year to test out all the necessary medicines and procedures, and there were many failed results. It seemed all hope was lost and you nearly gave up. After about the 100th procedure, a "positive" finally showed itself. You and Alcina were ecstatic and couldn't wait to make the announcement.

"Please do not celebrate so soon," Miranda said. "We still have to monitor you for at least another month so that we may be absolutely sure."

"Of course, Mother, we understand. However, I have a good feeling about this one," Alcina said.

One month turned into three, three turned into five, and your belly was practically about to burst at the end of the eighth month mark. You were overjoyed and a little nervous, but you remembered the love that your parents showered on you and your siblings and it helped eased your mind immensely-only a few weeks left--or a few minutes; the baby was early and ready to go. You were not prepared at all!

Time Skip- Four months later

"Aw, Mama! Annette is so big already. She's probably going to be as tall as mother," Daniela cooed at her baby sister.

"Dear heavens, I hope not! I refuse to be the shortest in the family," you rolled your eyes as you faked annoyance.

Daniela stroked the baby's face, lost in her pretty eyes. "Mama, I really don't think you have a choice. She's already wearing nine month sizes at 4 months, but it will be cute to be able to pick you up," Daniela grinned. "You could be our own little baby."

You laughed. "No, ma'am! As long as I'm the parent, the only babies will be you and your sisters. Now you go and have fun on the hunt. Bela and Cass have been expecting you for some time, I'm sure."

You kissed Daniela on the forehead as you bid her goodnight. She smiled and blew a kiss to the baby, leaving you and baby Annette alone. After feeding her and putting her into bed, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and any small glimmer of joy you had had gone out the window. You were always a curvy woman, but after giving birth you gained a bit more weight than you intended. Post-partum hit you like a brick that first week and it was hell. Constant crying, anxiety and depression, thoughts of self harm, maybe two hours of sleep a night, you really went through it all. The birth wasn't traumatic in any sense, but no one prepared you for the emotions and weight fluctuations that followed soon after- on top of that, Alcina unfortunately had meetings out the roof and was hardly home to help. Luckily the girls stepped in this past week for a day or two to help you catch up, but it wasn't enough.

"How are you feeling, draga?"

Alcina came up behind you and gave you a soft kiss on the lips. She looked concerned and wanted to comfort you.

" I'm conflicted, Alci. On one hand I'm so happy to have Annette with us, on the other..." you sighed. "Her birth wasn't traumatic, it was quite peaceful, so why do I feel so helpless, so worn out?"

Alcina kissed you again and led you to bed, wrapping you in her arms.

"I've gained so much weight, Alci. I feel ill and I can't stand to look at myself. When you tried to be romantic with me after Miranda gave us the ok, I thought I was ready, but I couldn't...I just felt...unattractive. I'm so sorry! I was tired and still feel that way. I know it feels like I was rejecting you and it probably made you angry..maybe that's why all those meetings."

"My love, birth is a wonderful and stressful process. I will admit, that it was rather selfish of me to assume that you would be ready to resume the sexual side of our relationship, but I received a reality check: I've never gone through a birthing process. I don't know what it's like to push pounds of a human out of my body, or go through feeling undesirable because my body isn't the same as it used to be. However, please know this: I'm very happy to have had a baby with you. I'd go through it all over again. And I could never be upset with you, especially if you aren't feeling well. As for the meetings, they unfortunately always show up at the worst possible time."

She tilted your chin up to make you look at her.

"You are so strong, so brave to have done this. You are a wonderful lover and a wonderful mother to our girls. That in my eyes makes you very attractive. And although you may not love your body as it is now, I do. It birthed our baby girl and carried her for months. You took your time making her so perfect for us, even though she decided that time was taking too long."

You both laughed. Annette was a stubborn one, but she reminded you of Alcina. She was absolutely perfect!

"Your body is beautiful to me, draga. Those beautiful curves, the roundness of your tummy, those warm, delicious thighs-your breasts are swollen and full with milk that I know you use to satiate our child's hunger. It's beautiful to see you bond with her that way. She adores you as I do. I know you want to get your body back in shape, but for now it must rest. If you decide to wait 3 weeks, 3 months, or 3 years, I will love you all the same. Mental health is just as equally important as body health and I want you to remember that. There is no need to stress your pretty self into a frenzy."

She gave you another kiss to your forehead. For the first time in two months, you actually felt happy. You were grateful to have your family, and you intended to shower them with affection as your parents had done to yours.

"Alci?"

"Yes, pet?"

"I'm so glad you still think I'm hot."

Alcina snorted with laughter, "Yes, yes I do."

"Good!" You kissed her lips and her hands. After settling under the covers and turning out the lights, your turned to her.

"Alcina? You are so warm and such a comfort. This is going to be a long journey for me since motherhood is relatively new, but with you and our girls by my side, I can achieve anything. I'm so ready for the long road ahead, no matter what happens!"

Alcina smiled. "Thank you, iubirea mea! Good night, and may sweet dreams find their way to you."

One final kiss, and the two of you drifted off happily and sleepily under the moonlight, dreaming of your upcoming adventures.

[threadofdestiny]

Magnolia Chapter 9 (Bakugou x f!reader

Feudal Japan AU

Shogun!Bakugou x Midoriya’s sister!reader

Summery: Her mother, lady Midoriya Inko, had once told her that the gods had predestined a path for every single person. All she had to do was follow the path and trust that it would lead her to happiness. But how could (Y/N) find happiness in a political formed marriage with her brother’s rival, a man known for being brutal and cold hearted?

Wattpad

AO3

If someone wants to be tagged, just let me know :)

Taglist: @bakugous-mamas​, @bnhastories​, @brittkimm​, @ ellieitstimetosleep, @belladonna-the-aphrodisiac @samkysnks, @saintsukiyomi​

Chapter 1, Chapter 8, Chapter 10 (Coming soon)

Author´s Note: 

Finally! After so many months of silence, I finally finished the chapter. I am so sorry that you had to wait so long. I had to restart the chapter 3 times because I simply didn't like it. My husband even had to help me out a bit with tactical maneuvers, as I was getting so muddled myself that it was starting to become unbelievable in my eyes. On top of that, I just couldn't get into the writing flow because of the pregnancy. Hormones are a funny thing. I even wasnt able to take the rest to read a good book. Everything in my head was just about our upcoming life change. I also found out a few weeks into my pregnancy that I was expecting twins and that threw me completely off track. I was so afraid for a long time whether I would be good enough for two little, helpless humans. Gosh, I was so down most of the time, doupting myself. On top of that all of a sudden our apartment was also too small for another unplanned creature. So we had to move to a larger apartment at short notice. The pregnancy was very exhausting, full of hurdles and incredibly nerve-wracking, but now I'm about to give birth in a few days and I finally feel ready to welcome my two little girls into this world, while i will be trying to be the best version of myself for the both of them. Maybe I am not going to be perfect. I certainly will be doing quite the few mistakes, but i will love them with all my heart and going to do my best.

With the new life change, of course I don't know how fast I'll get on with the chapters, but I'll definitely keep on writing. Especially the first weeks will surely be a double challenge for my husband and me, which is why there isn't much time to spare, but I hope you'll still keep waiting for my updates and rejoice with me as we reach one more milestone after another in this story.

Thank you for your support! I appricate it!

Chapter 9

Aftermath

"Where is Kaminari and Shinsou? I want to know how such chaos could break out under our control!", snarled Bakugou angrily after lowering his injured wife into Kirishima's arms, before getting off his horse himself with clenched teeth. Like an angry bull, he stampeded toward the two samurai, who were already hurrying to meet them, before rearing up in front of them with a dangerously tense posture. "Kirishima told me that he had sent a relief for you, Shinsou! Where is he?" Both samurai looked stiffly to the ground as they bowed deeply to their master with apologetic gestures. There was nothing left of the relaxed, almost friendly atmosphere between them and their shogun. At that moment, Bakugou’s body language conveyed that the hierarchy between them was to be clearly observed. At that very moment, he radiated the powerful aura of the bloodthirsty samurai who was feared throughout the land for his mercilessness.

Shinsou cleared his throat briefly before he began to explain the situation in his typical monotone voice: "The samurai who was supposed to relieve me for the moment cannot be found. However, traces of blood have been discovered where the carriage was previously standing. Shoji-san and Koda-san are already searching the area." Cursing, Bakugou clenched his hands into fists as he turned meaningfully to Kirishima. He, too, appraised him with a concerned expression as he carefully lowered his ladyship onto her own legs, then propped her up with a proffered arm. Shortly thereafter, the Shogun lowered his attention to his wife, who nervously held onto the red-haired man's shoulder to relieve the pressure on her injured ankle. (Y/N)'s fingers clawed quaveringly at the red-haired warrior's armor as she returned her husband's gaze, searching for answers. The young woman did not dare to speak. Too much tension was in the air, while all eyes were on Bakugou, waiting for the instruction on how to deal with this situation. For a moment they looked at each other in silence before the Shogun looked back up at his closest confidant. "Double the number of guards until we know how to proceed! Have Kaminari and Shinsou stay with her. At least one of them is always near her. Without exception! Choose the most loyal people to assist you with the guard. No one else is to even approach her without my permission." "Understood!" both samurai replied as if from the same mouth. "As we had already guessed, the last-minute changes in travel arrangements have left security gaps. I want them closed as soon as possible. Kirishima, double-check every person accompanying us. We do not trust anyone who has not proven their loyalty to us or who can be identified by someone they know as a member of this convoy. Also, bring me the coachman. The horses could not have broken away so easily, and the formation of the carriages should have made such a maneuver difficult as well," Bakugou continued analyzing the situation at hand, while (Y/N) listened anxiously to her husband's words. The young shogun looked like a person who would normally leave nothing to chance. The way he clenched his jaw suggested how unacceptable he found this chaos right under his watch. Guilty of having put him in this position, the young lady tried to take a step toward her husband. She was aware that the changes in travel arrangements had taken place because of her. Her careless action at the feast a few days earlier had led to these late consequences and had only caused her newlywed husband more inconvenience than she had already been aware of. Worse yet...she had put them all in danger. Again.

As she tried to put weight on her injured ankle, (Y/N) buckled to the side, gasping in pain, which is why she began to lose her balance. Immediately, Kirishima's grip on her upper arm tightened to stabilize her.

Bakugou's arm also shot out to reach for her as he gloomily watched her facial expressions. Guiltily, she looked up at her husband as she tried to stand up straight again. She wanted to apologize to him. To ask for forgiveness. But when she had regained her composure and carefully tried to start a sentence, not a single word escaped from her quivering lips. Bakugou, also silent, took in the pained expression on his wife's face and then tightened his grip on her upper arm for a brief moment. Beneath the grim facade of his stony countenance, the expression of concern flashed in his eyes for a few seconds, but it was gone as quickly as it had emerged. It had seemed as if he too had wanted to say something to her before turning away after a moment of hesitation to gesture Kaminari to take care of his wife, while he kept his silence towards her. He watched as the latter dutifully stepped closer and offered his wife an arm, which she accepted, disappointed in herself, while carefully letting go of Kirishima so as not to lose her balance again. Only when she had shifted her weight to the other man did the Shogun finally let go of (Y/N) as well, turning to her guards one last time: "Send for her personal maid and have her injuries treated as best you can. Have her do this as quickly as possible so that we can make further arrangements on short notice if necessary," Bakugou ordered curtly before turning away from them to be followed by Kirishima to take control of the situation.

Nervously, (Y/N) bit her lower lip as she looked anxiously after her husband. It was hard for her to comprehend how routinely he could act in spite of such chaos, while she had difficulty even thinking clearly. She followed him with her gaze until he disappeared behind a wall of soldiers running around, busying themselves  cleaning up the mess of the escaping horses. Only when Kaminari tried to lead her gently in the opposite direction, she finally turned away with her head down in shame to follow him slowly.

In a society like theirs, a young lady was considered an adult as soon as one had married a man. In the eyes of her fellow men, she was now a part of a completely different world than she was used to. But basically she still felt like a little girl, dressed up in her mother's clothes, trying to mime a person she was supposed to be, but wasn't really yet. As if she was just playing pretend. She was afraid that Bakugou saw exactly the same in her. A young girl who was nothing more than a burden to him. Not fit to fill the role of the new lady of his household. A burden that had been imposed on him by his emperor, much to his disgust. Perhaps this also explained why he avoided her so much. She was probably just another helpless stupid sheep in his unloved flock of needy people that he had to take care of. Not only had she apparently disappointed Bakugou in their marriage bed. Her husband had now had to rescue her several times from various situations, as if she were just a careless child who kept going astray. How many times would she maneuver him into awkward situations? Never before had she felt so foolish and simple-minded as in the past days. It seemed to her as if she was committing one mistake after another and at the same time not even being able to identify many of these mistakes, even though she herself had always striven so hard for perfection and was always praised by her mother for her self-reflection. She knew the etiquette and behaviors of the society in the capital. She had been taught to fulfill her role as a young well-mannered lady satisfactorily. But now she felt like she had unlearned everything, or at least that none of it seemed applicable in the presence of her newlywed husband. (Y/N) felt lost and scared. Unprepared and overwhelmed. This was no place for someone like her and yet she was bothered by being so dependent on the people around her. To be so disoriented in the flow of events. Feeling like she was drowning.

But she didn't want to feel that way. She wanted to be more of value. She wanted to be a person who had earned the respect and trust of her husband. Just like the men who just led her from the chaotic clearing, but on a completely different level of course. She was no worrior, nor does she want to be one. But she was his wife but only in title it seemed.

Thoughtfully, she wondered if she could have contributed something helpful to the situation if she hadn't been hurt or simply knew better what to do. How was a young lady to behave in such a situation? How could she support her husband in such times without burdening him even more? Should she stand quietly on the sidelines and wait for others to take care of the mess? Was there nothing she could do?

Sensing his lady's discomfort, Kaminari patted her arm reassuringly with an encouraging smile on his lips. He slowed his gait a bit while leaning down to discreetly address her: "Don't worry. We have everything under control. Nothing will happen to you!", he misinterpreted her mood confidently, while Shinsou spoke to two more samurai a few meters in front of them, who started to follow him instantly. Immediately, (Y/N) gave her companion a faint smile while she nodded her thanks. She had almost forgotten in her self-pity that they were in an avoidably dangerous situation, but she covered her surprise as best she could before replying: "I have full confidence in all of your abilities, Kaminari-san." she replied placatingly to keep up her facade as they flanked her on all sides and safely led her to a more secluded but manageable spot.

.

.

.

Breathing in sharply the fresh spring air, (Y/N) placed her trembling hand on her cramping thigh while trying to keep her leg as still as possible. Her long-time maid wrapped clean strips of cloth around her injured ankle as carefully as she could after rubbing it with a cooling ointment, but she couldn't quite prevent the pain her lady felt in the process. Just like the rest of the servants and soldiers, Mina had assumed a tense posture since the incident with the carriage. No one could explain how such a situation could have evolved. But all of them secretly feared the worst. Contrary to her usual disposition, Mina had been gloomily silent since arriving at her lady's side, having convinced herself that she had suffered only scratches and bruises besides her injured ankle before treating her with gentle care.

In such a situation, what did one say to each other to lighten the atmosphere a bit?

Just the idea that someone might have tried to make an attempt on her mistress triggered an uneasy feeling in the young girl. Her attention kept wandering over the numerous trees that circled the clearing like lurking shadows, while she tried to suppress the trembling in her lower lip. "How could such a terrible thing happen?" the usually bright maid murmured dejectedly, finally making her concern known, but (Y/N) shook her head directly, waving it off, not wanting to show how worried she was as well now that she had been able to collect herself. "Bakugou-sama is about to find out what had caused all of this. We should just stay calm and wait. He will know what to do," (Y/N) replied hesitantly after she had weighed her thoughts internally. Nodding, the young maid agreed with her mistress before sighing softly. "Who would have thought a few weeks ago that we would soon find ourselves in such a situation?" she then whispered softly while shaking her head in disbelief.

With her travel fan flipped open, the young lady covered her pained expression as she patted Mina's arm guiltily. "I'm sorry for tearing you away from your life in the capital," (Y/N) apologized dejectedly, but Mina only shook her head vehemently in response. "I don't regret my decision to follow you, milady! I won't be deterred that quickly. If any hoodlum even gets too close to me or you, they're going to get the shock of their lives. Nobody messes with us!", protested Mina with newfound self-confidence. As a demonstration, she clenched her hands into fists and threw them into the air with momentum, as if she wanted to punch an opponent under the chin. Immediately, her mistress' shoulders slumped a bit as she visibly relaxed, according to her companion. Suppressing a soft giggle, (Y/N) nodded in agreement before turning to look at the four guards who surrounded her on all sides. All of them stood with their backs to the two ladies in order to keep a close eye on their surroundings and at the same time to give their lady a certain amount of privacy as long as a part of her skin was uncovered. But (Y/N) thought she could recognize how Kaminari's shoulders started to tremble slightly after her maid's statement, as if he would have to suppress a laugh despite the atmosphere. Since she couldn't look at his averted face, she turned back to her maid to confirm her statement: "When one has you as a guard, one doesn't need to be afraid anymore," the young lady confirmed mildly joking, while Mina, with a small smile on her lips, finally fastened the bandage to her mistress' foot and reached for a clean stocking to carefully slip it over her leg.

It didn't take long for the mood to fade again, however, after silence returned between them. Both women were hung up on their own thoughts, and yet they were going in the same direction. Who would have thought that just a few days after leaving the capital, something like this could have happened? And how many times would they be exposed to such a situation? Was this now a danger they could expect at any time?

It felt completely surreal. Not even a week ago, the young lady had lived sheltered in a handsome mansion in the center of the capital, while now she was sitting surrounded by countless strange men in a forest unknown to her. She had not been prepared for something like this. How could she have prepared herself for something like this?

The warm spring air and the lush green of the leaves in the treetops made her situation seem deceptively idyllic, but secretly she was aware that, according to her husband's statements, the accident with her carriage probably could not have been caused by a series of coincidences. Concerned, (Y/N) raised her fan a little higher in front of her face, so that only her eyes flashed out over the rim decorated with gold thread. Attentively, she looked at her surroundings with a critical gaze, as if she would be able to recognize a potential enemy purely from the body language of the people, if she would only look attentively enough. But what should she pay attention to? Except for a handful of people, all these people were unknown to her. Even her guards were strangers. Only Kaminari had been a person she had barely known from her past in the capital, before she had met Bakugou. So how was she supposed to interpret the body language of the people around her?

Shrouded in silence, (Y/N) watched as a few meters away from them, the shogun followed by Kirishima paced furiously up and down past his warriors while keeping a close eye on his men. However, it was not long before one of his samurai, followed by another person, stepped out of the crowd to approach Bakugou. Stumbling, the second man, who turned out to be the coachman, stepped in front of his master before he threw himself to the ground at his feet and pressed his forehead against the floor. Darkly Bakugou stared down at him while silently listening to the words of the samurai who had accompanied the scared coachman. The latter pointed to the part of the woods that had been behind (Y/N)'s carriage, while the kneeling man remained trembling on the ground.

She would have liked to know what they were talking about, but the young lady was too far away to understand what the men were saying. Only the sheer panic written on the old coachman's face when he briefly looked up to clearly answer a question her husband must have asked him, told (Y/N) from her position that it must have been very bad news.  

.

.

.

"Explain to me why some of the horses were able to escape and why my wife's carriage was apparently not properly secured!" the Shogun ordered somberly, after having had it explained to him why he had had to wait so long for his men to find the coachman in the forest with some of the runaway horses. "I-I cannot explain it, master. We went through the steps as usual. One of my assistants had fastened the horses as usual, while I had secured the carriage with wedges under the wheels as usual. I then went to the soldiers to take a break. Normally, the assistant should have been on hand to check the carriage's axles, as my legs are not taking the long kneeling on the ground very well anymore. Before I could return, however, the horses had already bolted," the older man explained tremulously, before pressing his forehead anxiously against the stony ground once again.

 Snorting with rage, Bakugou glanced over his shoulder to have Kirishima confirm the coachman's statement. The latter nodded after a moment as he recalled the arrival at the rest stop in his memories. "That's right. I can confirm that the carriage had been secured by the gentleman before I joined you."

"What about the assistant?" continued Bakugou, after turning back to the old man. The latter thought for a moment before quivering his voice in reply, "I haven't seen him again after the incident. I was busy securing the captured horses. Actually, it would be his job to help me with that." Bakugou and Kirishima then fell silent for a moment as they processed what had been said. "Describe the boy to us so we can have someone look for him!" the red-haired samurai echoed in a calm voice as he took a step closer to his master.

"H-he is quite a small fellow, almost petite, and doesn't stand out much because of it. However, he is quick and skilled, which is why I hired him on short notice after you quickly ordered more people to join the convoy. At first I thought he was a girl because of his soft features and big eyes. He always wears a cap, so I don't know what color his hair is, but his irises are the color of honey," the coachman described gesturing before continuing timidly, "I-I just pulled this out of the hind leg of one of the horses, though, which had dragged its leg a bit behind it," the kneeling man stammered before pulling an object out of his pocket and holding it up with trembling hands. Silence spread among those present as they looked at a small distinctive throwing knife. Blood had dried on the tip, which probably came from the injured horse. With a serious expression, the Shogun took the small weapon from his subordinate's hand and examined it insistently before giving him an appraising look, "Did you observe anything else?" The coachman then shook his head vehemently before replying, "No, Your Grace. Forgive me!"

Vigilantly, Bakugou watched his counterpart's every emotion before finally turning away from the older man, "You may go. See that the horses are supervised throughout. If something like this happens again on your watch, you will have operated a carriage for the last time," Bakugou threatened dangerously calm as he finally dismissed him. The shogun waited as his subordinate gratefully departed before giving Kirishima a meaningful look. "The samurai who was supposed to guard the carriage was found dead a little deeper in the forest. He was found with a stab wound just above the throat. Normally we probably would have had trouble finding the body, but one of the escaped horses was found there and happened to blow the cover. For one thing, to kill a samurai in this manner, the person would have had to have been somewhat smaller and quite agile to be able to stab upward so precisely past the throat guard. Also, the person would have had to get close enough to him first without arousing direct suspicion. The assistant is small and inconspicuous and, moreover, can no longer be found. We should keep this in mind. Judging from the forging of the knife, one of Shigaraki's assassins has sneaked in among the servants and is trying to make the attack look like an accident for the time being so that he can disappear into the chaos afterwards. I will have the servant searched to verify this assumption," the red-haired samurai concluded quietly as he let his gaze roam over the soldiers and servants. "We must still assume that the assassin remains in the vicinity to make sure that his mission has been accomplished. There may be others lurking among us as well. On the other hand, the assassination attempt was quite messy. Shigaraki seemed to have wanted us to know he is behind all of this. Otherwise there would be no evidence like the knife that was found, but that doesn’t mean that there would be no other attempt. We need to get my wife out of here as quickly as possible and then figure out how to proceed," Bakugou decided grimly as he looked thoughtfully over at (Y/N), who was guarded away from the convoy by four of his samurai. "The carts are slowing us down too much and making sure she'll be an easy target now after the cover that her carriage had provided is gone..." he muttered more to himself before turning back to Kirishima. "Get the fastest horses ready! You will take her with Kaminari, Shinsou, Koda, and Shoji to the next town. There, you are to rent smallest inn as possible that can be easily supervised and wait for us. From there we will discuss our further procedure!", the Shogun ordered after a short moment. Kirishima nodded resolutely and beat his fists demonstratively against each other in front of his chest. "You can count on me! I'll make sure nothing happens to her!", the red-haired samurai confidently proclaimed before turning to get the horses ready.

The shogun strode purposefully towards the group guarding his wife. Once there, he turned to Kaminari and pointed to Kirishima who was hurrying in the opposite direction. "Follow him and help him get the horses ready! You, Shinsou, Koda, and Shoji will ride ahead with him to get my wife away from here," Bakugou ordered before walking past him. Without asking further, the straw-blond young man nodded before going on his way. Surprised, (Y/N) stared up at her husband as the shogun walked up to her without further ado and leaned down to her. "Come, Kirishima will take you away from here!" repeated Bakugou curtly before lifting his wife, without hesitation in his arms to move her away faster. Inhaling sharply, the young woman sought a hold on her husband's shoulders as she looked up into his face in alarm. "W-what about you?" she asked quietly, while she cast a quick glance over his shoulder to glance uncertainly at the rest of the guards, who followed them silently.

"I'll take control of the convoy here with the rest of my men and catch up with you later," he replied after lowering his gaze to her for a moment. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders as she blinked at him from under her lashes. For a brief moment, she was silent as she weighed whether to speak her thoughts freely. "... Isn't that dangerous? What if you're attacked?", she finally asked with concern, but Bakugou only snorted derisively in response before shifting her weight in his arms. "Shouldn't you be more worried that you'll be attacked?", he growled resolutely before pausing briefly and clearing his throat: " Which you don't have to. Your guards are capable of protecting you!", he added harshly, as if he awkwardly tried calm her after his statement. Before (Y/N) could say anything in reply, the clacking of hooves sounded behind them. The young shogun turned to the small group of samurai, who approached them with brisk steps before nodding to Kirishima. When the young lady caught sight of the horses, she turned again to her husband in alarm. She faltered briefly as she realized what she was about to reveal, but she shook her head in embarrassment as her husband lowered her to the ground, before attempting to lift her onto one of the horses a moment later. She gently tapped her fingers against Bakugou's upper arm to get his attention before quietly clearing her throat, "I'm sorry, but I never learned to ride," she murmured softly. The Shogun rolled his chimney red eyes before pressing his heavy hands to her waist right under her ribs. "You're riding with Kirishima!" he countered as said man stepped closer towards the couple, giving his ladyship an encouraging smile.

Before (Y/N) knew it, she was jerkily put on astride the huge warhorse on which Kirishima usually sat alone. When the mighty beast beneath her began to shift its weight, the young woman clung awkwardly to the animal's neck, which pawed unimpressed with one of its hooves. Only when she felt Kirishima sit down behind her and grab the reins around her body, she began to had the feeling not to fall down at any moment. Only then did she dare to take her attention off the huge colossus and look over to Bakugou one last time. The latter returned her gaze grimly before tapping Kirishima's forearm dismissively and stepping back. "See you later!" the redhead announced with a confident smile on his lips before putting his spurs to his horse. Immediately, his companions did the same, each covering one unprotected flank of Kirishima to offer them as much protection as possible through this formation. (Y/N) had no time to turn around to the clearing. She was too busy wishing she would not fall down breaking her neck at the speed. With cramping fingers, she held onto the saddle while pressing her thighs against the horse's rump. "Don't worry, milady! Just try to match the horse's movement. Otherwise, your legs will cramp after a short while!", shouted Kirishima past the whirring wind after interpreting her stiff posture. “You are going to be safe, promise!”, he added before he whistled to spurr his horse even faster after that, while leaning forward a bit to defy the wind. The cool metal and leather of his armor pressed against (Y/N)'s back as she tried to match him. It was strange not to be near her own husband and be in the presence of another, but the thought fled right back out of her mind as she anxiously began to ponder what lay ahead of them, as well as behind of them.

Again, she asked herself how she could steel herself against all that was to come? But she was certain that no matter what would happen, she had to keep trying not to float uncontrollably in the air like a feather in the storm.  She was aware that her journey only had begun, but she didn't want to lose hope even if doubts will plague her constantly. (Y/N) was going to grow into her role, to gain Bakugous respect and trust. At this point, she didn't know if love wasn't too ambitious a goal, but this... this she wanted to achieve by all means and for that she had to stop playing pretend and needed to begin to grow.

[fandomscombine]

Make The First Move

George Weasley x Reader

BG: The Yule Ball is only a month away, but the boy you were hoping to ask you out still hasn’t make a move. So you decided to take matters into your own hands.

(With guess appearances of Fred and Cedric)

This is an entry for @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ ’s 1k Followers Writing Challenge

Fluff prompt #1 “Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?”

Fluff prompt #6 “If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it.”

Trope #8 Friends to lovers

WC: 2623

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

y/n l/n is not a girly girl. You would categorize your fashion mentality to value comfort and functionality more than style.

Yes, during the weekends, you do tend to rock a graphic tee, jeans, soft sneakers and a outwear of choice, depending on what you’re feeling that day- be it a leather jacket, causal blazer to a denim jacket.

Hey in your defence, the Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts is located isn’t exactly the warmest place, besides students are only allowed to wear casual clothes during the weekends.

But every now and then you do wanna pop on a skirt or a dress, especially when its warm outside.

This upcoming event though…. you, like everyone else is oh so very much do want to feel like a star! To feel elegant! Luxurious!

That’s right the Yule Ball is only a month away. It is all that is in every single student’s mind ever since it was announced. Who would their date to the ball be? What outfit would they wear?

A number of students had already picked their respective dates and dresses. However, a remaining select few have not done either- Like yourself. Time is running out and the pool of available potential partners is decreasing day by day.

You didn’t mind going alone, as long as you have a great time with friends, going alone it isn’t really a big deal. But there is a small childlike wishful thinking that wants to have a fairy tale experience.

It also isn’t helpful that you had started to develop feelings for a certain redheaded twin over the summer. You swear that he too felt the dynamic changed between the two of you- who knew that 3 weeks tinkering with joke shop ideas and fixing out the burrow’s garage could be so impactful.

Though now coming to think of it, could you have just read the signs all wrong? The lingering stares, the tighter and longer hugs… Could this be signs that he planning of ways to murder you? Because if this were all romantic signs, wouldn’t he have had asked you out to the ball by now? It was no secret that you hadn’t said yes to anyone yet.

So, what’s taking so long? George Weasley is one of the most confident and popular guys on campus. Surely, he wouldn’t chicken out or get nervous to ask you.

Right??

Pushing boy trouble aside, you focus back on the dress catalogue your mum had sent you earlier today.

Flipping through the pages, 2 dresses caught you eye. One was a short tule the other had a long side leg slit.

You were in the process of bookmarking the page when you felt the catalogue being pulled out of your grasp.

‘Hey!’ You instinctively shouted to the culprit.

‘What’s this?’ George said, turning to the front cover. ‘“Madam Bella’s Evening Gowns, Autumn/Winter 1994”’

‘Give it back George!’ You tried to take it from him, but he quickly held it above his head.  

You stood on the bench in hopes to extend your reach. You could almost take hold-

‘Catch Freddie!’ Shouted George and threw it across the table.

Fred flipped to the dogeared pages. ‘Ahh..’ He was scanning through the choices you had circled. ‘Great choices indeed, my dear y/n!’

At first you weren’t sure if he was teasing you or being sincere.

That must had shown on your face as Fred continued, ‘I’m serious y/n/n!’ He placed his left hand on his heart and raise his right. ‘I swear! But you would look good in any dress anyway.’

You blushed at his compliment. ‘Thanks for the confidence boost Freddie.’

He hands back the catalogue to you, and as you took it, he whispered in your ear. ‘A little hint though,’ He shifts back a bit- now being face to face. ‘My vote is on the slit dress...’

Your brows scrunched together- was this boy seriously giving you fashion advice?

‘….I know George would like that..’ He steals a quick glance towards his twin, who has now turn bright red, both from being embarrassed and furious at him. ‘… I-I mean, it would match George’s dress robes.’

Fred sends you a final wink and bids you both goodbye.

You watch Fred exit the Great Hall, never letting him out of sight until he turns the corner. Which George to grateful for, as that had bought him time to calm his face down.

That was the one of the weirdest exchanges you’ve ever had yet, but you also couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to it.

George cleared his throat ‘So…y/n...Have you got a date yet?’

‘No why?’ You look over at him and you thought that you might give your hypothesis a try. Smirking hopefully, you asked ‘Are you gonna ask me?’

If you only knew what was going on inside of George’s head, the boy was panicking.

It was as if time slowed. Or it was because George’s thoughts are going a thousand miles a second.

Of course, he wanted to ask you to go with him!

But his brain was feeding him of insecurities. What if you didn’t want to go with him? What if you did say yes but only as a friend?

Plus, he didn’t want to ask you in front of all these people, thinking that you might be pressured by the crowd to agree.

No, he wanted to do it in a private, more intimate setting. Deserving of your beauty and grand place to confess his feelings.

He’d dream that in return you would say ‘Yes, I loved to go to the ball with you, George!’ and perhaps even say those 3 words he’s been dying to hear-more in the romantic nature than of friendship- and if he was lucky, maybe even share a kiss, that would be the best case scenario.

The worst-case scenario would be you rejecting him, possibly forever ruining the relationship with his best friend and having his heart broken- at least that case, nobody else would witness that.

‘Eh George?? Georgie?? Hello??’ You frantically wake a hand in front of him. ‘Earth to George Weasley!!!’

Great, when you finally had the courage to ask him to be your date-albeit indirectly- You broke him.

‘uuh.. I… I have to go...’ George looked like a deer caught in headlights

‘What?’

His eyes, dart upwards, thinking of an excuse. ‘Yes, I have to go… GO CLEAN MY SOCKS!’ Unfortunately, for him, in an uncharacteristic manner, he failed to think of a believable lie. ‘I’ll see you later!’

And with that he rushed out the Great Hall, leaving you once again gawking with a confused face at another Weasley twin.

~

You had your back against one of the rock formations near the Black lake, deciding which of the 2 dresses you would be wearing to the ball.

You were enjoying the last good sunny autumn days, taking in the sights of other students having a picnic on this beautiful Saturday. When suddenly a figure had landed right in front of you.

‘Ahhh!’ You had jumped in fright, causing you to slip a bit.

‘I got you, I got you!’ You felt arms holding you tight, preventing you from falling off the rocks.

Once you had regained your balance you check to see the perpetrator that had gave you a heart attack.

‘CEDRIC DIGGORY!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU TO STOP DOING THAT!!’

The boy chuckled. ‘I know y/n/n, but I just couldn’t help it!’

You narrowed your eyes at him. Which made him laugh even more.

‘You know you love me.’ He gushed, bring you into a hug.

‘And that is my weakness’ Your reply being muffled by his shoulder. You Cedric were as close as brother and sister, having basically grew up together as both your families super close. Your father is best friends with his father and so are your mothers ever since their Hogwarts days. Therefore, naturally you and Cedric have a close bond too, being joined at the hip since birth-the only time part was the 3 months that you are older by.

It has been a while since you two had caught up with each other, him being busy with the Triwizard Tournament ofcourse.

‘Have you got any idea about the second task?’

‘Yeahh’ Cedric gulped.

You crocked a brow. Not buying his bullshit.

Cedric scratched the back of his neck. ‘Fine, I haven’t….’ Gazing towards the lake, he continued. ‘But I think it’s got something to do about the water.’

You take hold of his hand. ‘Hey, it’s alright. You’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.’

‘Thanks y/n. I thought initially you wouldn’t be against me joining.’ He confessed.

‘You know I would support you no matter what. But don’t get me wrong, I’m worried for you Ced, always am. The tournament just upped it to level 1000! But I know that you have it in you to win this, to be the Triwizard Champion!’ You beamed. ‘Imagine that Ced, a Triwizard Champion in the family!’

‘It would be great, would it?’

‘Now to the matter at hand, The Yule Ball.’

‘What about it?’

‘Have you asked someone yet? You enquired.

‘Well there is this gorgeous lady that I’ve been meaning to ask…’ He hinted. ‘Though I am waiting for the right opportunity to ask her, you see everything has to be perfect!’

‘Awww, what an absolute sweetheart!’ You swooned.

Behind Cedric, you could have sworn that you saw someone in the trees. However, in your eagerness to know more of Cedric’s possible date, you brushed it off as the swaying of the branches and falling autumn leaves.

‘How about you? Has Mr. Beater asked you yet?’

You sighed. ‘Not exactly…’

Cedric leaned forward with hands on his chin, interested to hear more.

‘He asked if I had got a date yet, to which I said no. Then teased if he was gonna ask me.’ You recalled. ‘Then he froze. I guess I broke him, cause the next thing he said was that he’s got to go clean his socks.’

That had Cedric doubling over. ‘George really said that?!?!!?’ He had his arms wrapped around his stomach. ‘Clean his socks?!!??’

‘Yeah yeah yeah, laugh all you want Diggory. But you still hadn’t asked Cho out yet.’

‘Heyy! I told you I am waiting for the right moment!’

‘C’mon Ced, Sweet intentions aside. Cho has been declining offers to the ball, time is running out and I bet she is getting tired waiting for you to make a move, especially this close to the ball.’ You know how much Cedric likes Cho and hate to see him sad if and when Cho doesn’t get tired of waiting for him. ‘Sooner or later she might just say yes to some other guy, cause you’re talking so long!’

‘I’m sorry Cedric.’ You had realized that you projected your own frustrations on him. ‘I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.’

‘I know y/n, it’s alright really.’ He smiled, having come up with an idea ‘How about this, the next time you see George, YOU ask him out?’ He suggested.

‘ME?!?’

‘Yes.’ He insisted. ‘That why we would get a definite answer. And this time not more asking in an indirectly direct way. - We don’t want another system error in that head of his. Deal?’

‘Deal’

Picking up the discarded catalogue, he remarked. ‘Hmmm, I think that the long one would suit the occasion better, don’t you think? Being it a formal event and all.’

You agreed. ‘and you‘re not the first one to say that too.’ You muttered-more to yourself.

‘Huh?’

‘Nothing!’

‘So what color are you thinking? Blue or…’

‘Oh I got that all figured out! I was thinking that since the point of the Triwizard Tournament is school unity, I want the grown to be featuring my house colours.’

~

Fred had ran back to the Gryffindor dormitories as fast as he could. Glad to spot that his twin brother laying down on the bed.

As much as he enjoys teasing his siblings. He could no longer endure the obliviousness of his brother and y/n. He can no longer take the constant nonessential pining, especially when they obviously like each other.

Fred had been trying to get them together for the past month, but it seems that subtly pushing them to the right direction isn’t working. Which leaves him with no choice.

‘If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it’ Stated Fred.

‘What?’

‘I can’t take it anymore Georgie!’ He grabs his brother by the collar. ‘I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I KNOW YOU LIKE Y/N AND BELIEVE ME GEOGRE WHEN I SAY THAT SHE LIKES YOU BACK OKAY.’ Fred pleads, shaking George with each word. ‘AND YOU HAVE GOT TO MAKE A MOVE TODAY! NOW! ASK HER TO THE BALL BEFORE CEDRIC DOES.’

George now dizzy, mumbled. ‘What? How?.....How do you know this?’

‘I saw them together at the lake and me being the best brother that you have decided to eavesdrop.’ Fred admitted. ‘And guess what, Cedric plans to ask a gorgeous lady- y/n- to the yule ball but is just finding the perfect opportunity.’

‘Therefore, brother dearest, it’s only a matter of time til that happens. And I your very supportive wingman urge you to freaking ask y/n out RIGHT NOW before it’s too late.’

That news that Cedric might ask y/n to the ball before he does, had put George back into his senses.

In record time, George had tidy up his clothes and fixed his hair. ‘Right.’ He turned to Fred who was looking smug leaning on the door frame. ‘How do I look?’

‘Smashing.’

‘Great, Now get out of the way you prick.’

~

George was busy thinking on how to ask y/n out to the yule ball and possibly even side in the chance to ask to go on a date with him, when he accidentally bumped into someone.

‘Wooooahh careful George!’

Damnit! he thought, out of all the people in this huge school, he just had to bump into the one person he doesn’t want to see.

‘Diggory.’ George growled.

‘You two alright?’ Said a voice beside them.

In his annoyance towards Cedric, George hadn’t noticed that you were close by. ‘Yeah, I’m good.’

‘Heyy’ Cedric interrupted. George had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. ‘I’ll see you later okay?’

Cedric kissed your forehead and whispered. ‘Good luck.’

This was is. George interpreted that sibling affection as you going out with Cedric to the ball.

Accepting defeat, he cleared his throat. ‘I guess imma go too-‘

‘Wait George!’ You held onto his arm to prevent him from leaving. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Go ahead.’ Replied George, curious onto what it is that is so important to ask him.

‘Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?’

‘Hmm?’ George once again confused.

‘Gosh you are slow sometimes aren’t you.’ You chuckled. You take a step closer to him, coming up face to face. ‘George Weasley will you go to the ball with me?’

It took a second for George to believe what he was hearing. ‘YES!!’ He exclaimed then recomposed himself. ‘Yes, I would love to go to the ball with you.’

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he decided to take it one step further- cause what else has he got to lose? ‘Will you y/n l/n go on a date with me?’

You bring your arms to his neck, his him close. ‘I’d love nothing more.’ You grinned, pulling him into a long awaited kiss.

 Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​

[jihyuncompass]

V Flower Shop AU Headcanons

The second half of this request from @otherlandshark​ ! My goodness I’ve missed my dear Mint man <3. I tried to keep it mostly fluffy, but there’s a little bit of angst in there. Since I can’t help myself. I hope you enjoy this Shark! Love you lots!

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide (Relating to Rika)

Jihyun/V

The first time you saw him had been in early spring. 

The weather was starting to get warmer, flower blossoms starting to grow on the ground and on the trees. 

On that warm spring day the sound of the bell by the door ringing grabbed your attention. 

You’d been working on  your newest flower arrangement. Bunches of flowers scattered around your table. The fragrant scent overwhelming your senses. 

Tearing your gaze from your work your eyes met the Mint eyed stranger in the doorway. 

You shouted out a greeting to him, your usual “Welcome in!” that you told every customer when they came in. 

The man had smiled and greeted you back. His voice was warm and gentle, a voice that just radiated comfort. 

You did return to your work, but your eyes kept wandering towards the man. Watching him as he admired the arrangements you’d put together earlier in the day. 

Keeping your gaze careful you made sure he didn’t notice how you were watching him. 

After looking around for a while he eventually came to the counter with a bouquet in hand. 

“Is this all for you?” You asked. He nodded. “Are these for anyone special?” You asked. 

“Yes.” The man said with a warm smile. “They’re for my fiance. Rika.” 

You finished wrapping the bouquet and taking the money from him. “Well this is a perfect choice for a romantic partner. I’m sure your Rika is a lucky woman.” 

He’d lifted the bouquet to rest in the crook of his arm and thanked you. You’d watched him as he left, the warmth in his voice lingered in your mind. 

You’d returned to your arrangement in progress. Lifting the yellow daffodils to add in for the next one. 

The mint haired man returned again a few weeks later. This time he was followed by someone, a bright eyed blonde woman. 

You tried not to eavesdrop on them. Still, you couldn’t help but look at them, and listen to the way they spoke. 

“What do you think of these, beloved?” The man asked.

“They’re beautiful V.” She said, her voice like the man, V’s, was gentle. “I think they’d look beautiful on the kitchen table.”  

“I agree.” He said. He looked up towards your work table briefly meeting your eyes. You smiled politely and returned to your work. Forcing your eyes to stay attentive to your work. Greeting them both with a smile when they did approach your table to check out. 

He returned many times. Sometimes with his beloved Rika, sometimes alone. At one point he was coming in almost once a week to pick up a new bouquet. 

 You made small talk with him, each time learning a little more about him. His name was V, though that wasn’t his birth name. He was a photographer, he and his fiance had a charity group they ran together. 

He talked passionately about the RFA, Rika’s Fundraising Association. Named for his fiance. He often talked about the members, and their upcoming events. 

His love for the organization was shown when he’d asked if you’d be willing to provide flowers as decorations for their upcoming party. You’d agreed in a heartbeat, spending long nights arranging carefully constructed bouquets. 

The first time you saw V away from the flower shop was at this party. You arrived at the party venue an hour before the event’s start time, wearing your work apron and your car full of flower arrangements. 

You’d were briefly questioned by a brown haired woman with a clipboard and RFA badge. Asking if you were the florist, if you had identification. You explained that V had paid upfront for these, and asked where they should go. 

V was in the main hall, dressed in a tailor made suit, beside him was Rika, wearing a dress clearly designed to match her fiance’s. They were speaking with a tall dark haired man with a serious expression, the serious looking man looked familiar somehow. Maybe you’d seen him somewhere. 

Like you did at the shop, you did your best to not eavesdrop. You were here for a job after all, and one that did pay very well. 

“I didn’t see you come in.” V’s voice pulled you from your mind. He was standing in front of you, his eyes looking right into yours, his eyes moved to the arrangements. “These are wonderful. I knew you would make something perfect.” V said. 

“I’m glad you like them!” You said, your cheeks red from his compliment. “This is quite the event you have here.” 

V’s smile grew. “Yes, we’re hosting many important people tonight. We’re hoping we’ll be able to raise money for a good cause.” 

“What are you raising money for?” You asked out of curiosity. 

“This time we’re raising money for children in orphanages. The money will go to finding good homes, and giving them a brighter future.” He admired the bouquets again. “Your choices of flowers always amaze me. They’re always so perfectly chosen.” 

Your face burned more. “You’re extremely kind V. I always want to make the best arrangements I can. I’m glad you appreciate them.” 

“I do, and I’m sure our party guests will too.”

“Well.” You said clearing your throat. “Next time you host a charity party, I’ll do the arrangements for free.” 

V’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t ask that of you. You deserve to be paid for your work.”

You shook your head. “The work you do is important, I want to do my part.” 

V’s surprised face shifted to a warm one. “Well then. I may take you up on that offer.” You still felt the warmth in your cheeks, still you smiled at him. 

He continued to shop at your store nearly every week. Yet you started to notice some changes over time. 

At first it was small, he looked more tired. Then Rika stopped coming in with him as much, and when they did come in they didn’t look like their normally blissful selves. 

Then you brought flowers to the next party, and as you set the bouquets up you heard the sound of the couple arguing behind a closed door. You didn’t hear their words, still, you heard the harsh tones. 

Then, a few weeks after that party. V stopped coming all together. 

A few days after you realized, you saw an article in the paper. 

RFA founder and Photographer’s Fiance Rika Kim dies of Suicide. 

You stared at the photo of V’s beloved Rika printed in black and white. Apparently she’d thrown herself off a cliff and into the ocean. Reading it your heart ached for V. You wanted to reach out to him, make sure he was okay, but you had no real way to contact him. 

You made a special flower arrangement. And sent it to the funeral home listed to be handling her celebration of life. In it, a note to V expressing your condolences. 

Weeks, months passed without seeing V again. He was like a ghost, one moment he’d been a part of your weekly routine and then he was gone. 

Seasons changed, the trees growing and losing their leaves. All the while, you thought about the gentle mint eyed V. How kind he was, how thoughtfully he chose bouquets. How he always knew every flower's meaning. His love of daffodils. 

A year and a half passed. You struggled to remember V’s face now, his voice only existing in your memory, yet every time you added a daffodil to an arrangement. The memories of him would come rushing back. 

The warmth of the late summer forced you to wipe away sweat from your brow. You made sure your fan was on while you watered the potted plants on one end of the store. You gently poured the water from your watering can, making sure not to overwater the vibrant green plants. 

The ringing of the bell up made you stand up straight. You turned towards the door to greet the customer before your words got caught in your throat. 

V was standing in the doorway. However, now he wore a pair of dark sunglasses and a white cane held in his hand. Still, it was V. The V you had missed so much. 

“V?” You asked. The man’s head turned toward the sound of your voice. “It’s been so long.” You said. 

V looked sheepish. “Yes, it has been a long time.” 

You set down your watering can. “I heard about Rika. I’m so sorry for your loss.” 

He sighed. “Yes, I got your bouquet too. It was very beautiful.” 

Your smile was tense. “Thank you.” You looked him up and down, your eyes getting stuck on the cane. “Is there something I can help you find, V?” 

He took a shaky breath in. “Yes actually. I’m looking for an arrangement but-” He sighed. “My eyesight, it’s pretty much entirely gone now. So I wouldn’t know where to start looking.” 

You looked at your work table then back at V. 

“I’ll make you one.” You said. “I’ll make sure it smells good, for you.” You walked towards V, carefully taking the man’s arm. 

V smiled, his ears tinted pink “I’d hate for you to go to so much work for me.”

You smiled. “Never too much. Especially not for my favorite customer.” You led him to the chair by your work table so you could start his arrangement. “Now, would you like daffodils? I know they’re your favorite.”

V pressed his lips together. “Actually, do you have the Lily of the Valley?” 

You smiled. “I do. Why that flower if I may ask?” 

Behind his glasses you saw his glassy eyes close. “I like their significance.” 

“The Return to Happiness” You said quietly. V nodded. “Well, I’ll make sure there’s plenty of them for you.” 

V left the shop holding his bouquet. A small smile still on his face, and a large one on yours. 

He returned the next week, and you had already prepared a new arrangement for him. One where the fragrance of the flowers was most important. 

The two of you continued that, every week. Each week with a new bouquet made only for him. And each time, you added flowers to express your feelings for him. Wishes of happiness, of healing. 

Of friendship. 

Of love. 

V came in at his usual time, while you finished up his order for the week. You called out a greeting to him, making sure he safely made it to the counter. 

“This one has the season’s newest blooms” You said, holding it close so he could smell. “I think the smell is really nice, it’s not too strong but it’s still very present.”

V took the wrapped bouquet. But he seemed quieter than usual, and you noticed the pink tinge in his ears. 

“V?” You asked. “Everything okay?” 

“I don’t want to be too forward but.” V started. 

“Yes?”

“There’s an event being held at the nearby gardens. To celebrate the new season. I was wondering, if you would like to go with me?” 

You smiled and reached out to gently touch his hand. 

“I would love to.” 

[quietmyfearswith]

to build a home {dark!bucky barnes x fem!reader}

to build a home {dark!bucky barnes x fem!reader}

status — ongoing (?) idk i had a second part in mind but we’ll see

warnings —  somnophilia (so non-con), male mastubration, unprotected penetrative sex (in my head the reader has birth control), rough sex, hints at breeding kink, slight praise kink, degradation, attempt at fluff, i think thats all but let me know if i miss something

word count — 9,351 words

a/n — i had this idea for an airbnb thing where the host was into the guest and perfect timing that @imanuglywombat​ was having a challenge, congratulations by the way on your achievement! and one of the moodboards was a mountain-themed one (the one at the left) and the prompt that i chose was  By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top/I climbed the tree to see the world/When the gusts came around to blow me down/I held on as tightly as you held onto me which is an excerpt from the song to build a home by the cinematic orchestra. i tried not to directly quote the lyrics but instead imply it as best as i can. had fun writing this and was the longest fic i’ve ever written. feedback would be very much appreciated,, have a great day and stay safe guys!

masterlist

 Bucky Barnes needed a vacation.

Needed, not wanted or desired, for it was what he required in order to function like a proper human being. Considering every bullshit he’s been through — the world war, the brainwashing, fighting for his life, dying and then being brought back to life — he was definitely entitled to a break.

After bringing everyone back, the team now strives to bring back order and peace. Bucky agreed to be part of the Avengers and SHIELD, but with a unique position. He’d train and prepare their recruits by whipping them into shape and go on missions only if he was deemed as an essential asset. The only reason he took that position because that was what Steve did as he passed down the title of Captain America to Sam. Stark too just became one of the representatives of the organization in order to focus on his family.

It was tricky at first — looking for food and water, source of electricity, gathering supplies, and having the money to do so. That’s when Tony suggested he put his a-framed house on an application called Airbnb. He was confused at first but his simple understanding was that someone would pay him if he agreed to share his house for a given number of days.

It was tricky at first — looking for food and water, source of electricity, gathering supplies, and having the money to do so. That’s when Tony suggested he put his a-framed house on an application called Airbnb. He was confused at first but his simple understanding was that someone would pay him if he agreed to share his house for a given number of days.

The suggestion worked well. Most of those who booked stayed one day and one night, the longest someone stayed was two days and a night. And it wasn’t because he used to be the Winter Soldier and they feared him, but simply because they needed a place to stay before heading up further into the mountains.

Despite the house having three bedrooms, Bucky only posted one being available. The other two bedrooms he prohibited the guests to stay on, even to enter, since those were reserved for him and Steve. Vacationers who stayed in here were very much respectful of his wishes and didn’t pry further more.

As he was watering the selection of plants, vegetables, and fruits that he has, he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. Setting the watering can down, he pulled out his phone and noticed how there was notification saying that someone booked the available bedroom he had.

“Booked for 2 weeks?” He read out loud the details of how long the stay of his upcoming visitor would last. It was odd to say the least, but who was he to judge someone for their stay? Tucking the phone back to his pants, he noticed how Alpine was drinking from the watering can he put down, he stroked her fur and smiled when he purred and nuzzled her face further into his palm, “Looks like we’ll have someone staying with us for quite a while, Al,” the 3 month old kitten simply looked up at him and purred once more, “Be a good girl for me alright?”

Following the notice that someone was gonna stay in his house for two weeks, Bucky busied himself in preparing the house — which took only two days for him to do so. He made sure that the rented bedroom was cleaned and that the bed sheets were changed and cleaned. Cleaning up Alpine’s hairballs and fallen furs was something he also did in preparation.

It was a sunny Tuesday morning and he was sitting down on one of the patio chairs, reading a book with Alpine on his lap, when he heard a car pulling up. Setting the book down on the small patio table, he took in the Jeep Wrangler that was parking, but what really caught his attention was who stepped out of the car.

“Hi, I’m Y/N! Are you Bucky? The one who owns the place I’ll be renting for the next two weeks?” Her tone was gentle and friendly, but it was her smile that really captured Bucky’s attention even more. Shakily, he replied, “Yeah, it’s me. Nice to meet you,” he held out his right hand — his other hand had a glove to conceal the metal — for her to shake, to which she shook his hand. 

“Oh there’s the cat you mentioned,” she unclasped her hand with his and took note of the fur ball that was standing beside Bucky — it was just really her way of getting his attention and wanting more rubs. “Oh yeah, this is Alpine, hope you’re not allergic or anything?” he wondered as he picked Alpine up and massaged her face a bit, to which she purred loudly. 

Y/N chuckled at the scene in front of her, “Not allergic, just wasn’t around cats a lot so I’m not used to them.” Bucky admired her honesty and assured her, “Well don’t worry about her, she’s extremely well-behaved.”

Usually, the guests had no problem bringing in their things from their respective cars and into their room. But there was something about her aura and personality that made him want to stay close to her as much as he could. So he suggested that he help her in bringing in her items. “Did you run away or something? Because I’m telling you now, near the mountains might not be the ideal place to do so,” he joked as he carried two of her duffel bags. As he opened the door to where she’d be sleeping for almost half a month, he put down her bags on top of the dresser.

Y/N set down the backpack and messenger bag she had near the night side table, “Well if the mountains aren’t ideal, then why are you here then?” she retorted back as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Bucky leaned on the dresser and crossed his arms and looked at her with wonder, “So you’re gonna turn this back on me huh?” he teased her.

To which she giggled at, “I’ll tell you my reason for staying here for two weeks if you tell me how you ended up here,” she persuaded him. He sighed dramatically and smiled right after hearing her laugh again at his antics, “The simple answer? I’m here for a vacation. A much needed and a long overdue one at that. How about you?”

She pursed her lips and nodded, she felt that maybe there was more to that but didn’t want to seem nosy so she explained her stay, “Well I’m here to test out some mountain and hiking equipment. It’s my work actually we’re this company that advertises and reaches out to endorsers and tells them about certain products like that one,” she pointed to the duffel bags behind him, “I get to test them, give them an honest review of the products and then let them know.”

“Huh, that’s a unique job,” he said as he ran his hand on his stubbled chin, “Well, I’m gonna let you settle down for now. Feel free to roam around the house, the other two bedrooms are the only ones off-limits,” he informed her and started to make his way out of the bedroom when he heard her call out, “Thanks, Bucky! You’re a great host, so far. Just let me know when I annoy you too much!”

Though it was meant to be a joke, the super soldier thought to himself, Don’t think you will ever annoy me, baby girl.

Before it was even noon, Bucky found himself preparing pasta. What was unusual, is that he was making food enough for the both of them. Usually, he wouldn’t go out of his way to prepare meals for his guests; but he would allow them to use the kitchen as they please as long given that they clean it up after and place things back as they were. But there was something about Y/N that inspired him to make an effort. 

Just as he turned the stove off and closed the lid with his left hand that had an oven mitt, he heard footsteps coming from the stairs, and he looked up to see her descending form and smiled warmly at her, “I cooked some pasta, just if you wanna eat or something,” he nervously mumbled as she finally stopped on the opposite side of where he was and sat down on one of the bar stools. “Smells good, I’d love to have a bite if you will too.” 

Bucky then brought out two bowls and as he filled them with pasta, Alpine was clawing at his feet and her paws felt a bit warm to his legs that were exposed since he was wearing basketball shorts. As he handed her one of the bowls, he bent down and tucked his beloved kitten onto the sweater he wore, so her head was the only thing seen as it dangled from the neckline of his sweater. “That’s adorable! She just really loves you doesn’t she?” Y/N cooed watching how the kitten peacefully closed her eyes and snuggled closer to Bucky even though he walked around before sitting down beside her, she noticed as well how he didn’t care to remove the mitt on his left hand.

“I was surprised as well with how she loved human touch, which made me think that she isn't a cat but instead a dog, actually,” he shared as she looked at Y/N and smiled as she laughed as she ate. “Though I am curious as to why you’re wearing a sweater when it’s one of the hottest days of July?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she felt how there had been a shift in the atmosphere. How the fun and breezy energy they both were radiating earlier had been converted into something that was stiff and somber.

“I mean, you don’t really need to tell me,” she assured him right away, her right hand reaching for his left forearm and she gently caressed it even though she found it odd how his arm seemed to be more rigid than it looked like, “I was just worried that you might get too hot to the point of dehydration or heat stroke or something like that.” Bucky nodded and went back to ingesting the meal he cooked.

“You’re already hot, but I don’t want you to be too hot to the point you combust,” that comment of hers was something she muttered lowly. But it wasn’t soft enough to get past his super soldier hearing, “Did you say something?” Bucky asked and he tried his best for his facial features to not give away the fact that he heard her clearly. With wide eyes, she just shook her head and quickly filled her mouth with pasta to avoid explaining what it was she said.

Deciding to spare her from shame and embarrassment, he decided to change the topic by asking, “Do you have an itinerary for today?” He looked at her and saw how she had already finished her pasta and was making a move to wash her bowl and utensils, “I’m planning to go for a bit of hike — to test out some items like trekking poles, water jug, backpack, and this windbreaker they made me try out.”

“That sounds fun,” Bucky commented as he placed the fork on his bowl, waiting for her to finish cleaning up, “Would you wanna tag along with me?” as she looked up to ask him, she looked nervous. Perhaps she was filled with doubts and hesitation that she might seem invasive of his privacy, and indeed, that was what she was thinking about.

Smiling warmly at her, Bucky expressed his desire to join her in the hike, “I’d love to join you, doll.”

45 minutes had already passed since they started their hike and there was probably a few more minutes before they would finally reach the higher portion of the mountain. “I think it’s great you agreed to come along with me, Bucky,” the super soldier heard her mention behind him. He was taking the lead and guiding her as she followed him and held on to her trekking poles to stabilize her. “Why’d you think that, doll?” He looked back to her and held his right hand for her to take, to which she did and helped her go higher than to where she was currently.

She let out a breath, which made him chuckle at her antics, “Well for one, I wouldn’t have an amazing tour guide,” she teased him as she jokingly nudged his abdomen with her finger. Normally, Bucky would flinch or turn away when someone he doesn’t really know or is not completely familiar with touches him, especially when it was the metal arm. But this was already the third time she’d touch her and in those three times he did once did not find it uncomfortable. 

“And second, I’d get lonely during this trip,” she concluded as she smiled brightly at him. “I’m glad to have joined you as well, doll.” The nickname he gave her made her blush to which he thought that the rose color looked good on her. “And I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s an amazing view behind me. So enjoy the view, doll.” When Bucky moved to the side, that was when Y/N had a chance to fully see the view, and it was unlike anything she has ever seen. The clear lake was breathtaking & the clouds were scattered in the sky though it did not shelter the sunlight. “Wow,” she breathed out and turned to her host and tilted her head when he saw his gloved hands reaching for his backpack and getting a blanket and laid it on the ground. As he sat on it, he patted the spot beside him, a cue for her to take the spot.

Putting her backpack down, she placed the trekking poles beside it before settling on the spot the man beside her patted. “You come here often?” she inquired, she was pretty sure he did since he knew how to get there quickly and safely. “Not everyday, just when I’m bored with housework,” he said as he took off the glove in his right hand.

She nodded and went to get the thermos from her backpack, as well as some chips and chocolates that she offered him, to which the super soldier opted for the chocolate. “So it means you are always here then huh?” she joked to which he laughed loudly, and she thought how adorable it was to see him crinkle the side of his eyes as he carelessly threw his head back in laughter. “I’m serious! You can only do so much housework before you get bored in your house!” she argued.

“Honestly, I’d rather be bored,” Bucky started as he munched on the chocolate she’d given, “For the longest time I was always busy, to put it nicely. And it’s a relief to be ridden of exhausting responsibilities.” Her heart ached at what he said, she might have not fully known what his work was but she could feel the exasperation in his voice. “Sorry for what I said, I was just teasing you,” she offered him a small smile.

Tickling her sides, he relished in the giggles she released, “I know, we don’t need to bring the mood down,” he assured her, “So, what is your review so far of the items you have?” His mention of it did remind her how she needed to take note of how she was satisfied or dissatisfied with the products, shuffling through the things in her backpack, she reached for the notebook which housed the feedback she had for different products.

Writing down her remarks, she also voiced it out for Bucky to hear, “The water jug did keep my water cold. Backpack’s material was not too heavy but it was able to fit all of my items. And this windbreaker,” she struck a pose which once again made Bucky laugh and it made her feel good to know that she can get him to laugh, “Did make me sweat but it’s too thin it’s making me chilly.”

Just as she mentioned how the windbreaker failed to prevent her from feeling cold, there was a gust of cool wind that when she felt it graze her skin, made her visibly shiver. Bucky didn’t like how she frowned on the sensation of being hit with the frosty breeze and wrapped her arms around herself; despite only wearing his sweater and a jacket, he didn’t have to react the same way thanks to the serum. He moved behind her and pressed his chest against her back, wrapping both his arms around her; his right hand wrapped around her stomach while the left hand rested on her thigh.

A sharp intake of breath signified how she was taken aback, but she didn’t find it awkward and instead she found herself instinctively leaning against his chest until the top of her head was just right under his chin. “Is this alright?” she wondered to him, and when she sounded so small, so vulnerable. As he smiled, he comforted her, “Wouldn’t have come close to you if it wasn’t alright, now would I?”

To hide the blush starting to form, she turned away from him and began to write on her notebook about her observations. They sat comfortably in silence; Bucky’s eyes wandered around the scenery, while Y/N was heavily focused on writing the feedback for the different products she got to try so far. The hand on her thigh that was gently caressing her and the steady yet strong heartbeat of the man behind her provided her with a sense of tranquility unlike anything she ever felt. 

Leaving the pen on the inside of the notebook, she closed it and placed it beside her backpack. While still looking at the lake she shared with him, “I’ve always wanted to live by the lake.” Not having enough of her warmth and wanting to be close to her, he pushed himself even closer to her, to the point their thighs were now touching each other. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back so the back of her head touched his right shoulder, “Always loved being in the water — whether I’m swimming or rowing a boat. Doesn’t matter what as long as I’m near the water I’m the happiest there.” As she said that he couldn’t help as his mind was filled with the images of the two of them living together and going for daily trips to the lake. And how they’d probably end up fucking or making love by the lake. 

Managing to bring himself back to the present, Bucky suggested, “Why not live with me then? That way you’ll always be a few minutes away from the lake.” Her laugh was so loud that he felt the vibrations of it through his chest with how close they were. “Don’t wanna burden you forever, you know? But maybe when I’ve saved enough and I don’t know, have the ability to work from home, I might just move near a lake.” 

He frowned at her thought that she considered himself a burden. They’ve spent almost a day and yet he knew in himself how he wanted to spend every day of his life with her. It might seem too soon for that, but he argued that he felt safe with her. That she made him happy. But there was this thought that lingered on his mind; that he was just deprived of affection for the longest time and now that someone’s been showering him with it, he doesn’t want to go a day without experiencing it ever again.

“Well, you’re always welcome in my house, it’s not really much of a home to me anyway,” the optimism in the first part was overshadowed by the sadness in the latter part of his statement. She looked over at Bucky and was saddened to see how his shoulders dropped and there was a sad smile on his lips, “What?” Because what else could she really say?

His eyes refused to meet her concerned orbs, and instead looked at anything but her. “With everything I’ve been through and done, it would be difficult for me to find someone to settle down with.” Upon hearing this, Y/N felt glum with Bucky's response and with how he looked as he said it. She held his right hand and squeezed it reassuringly, “Whatever it is you’ve done and been through is in the past. I’m sure that you’ve changed and grown from who you once were. You deserve to be happy, Bucky.”

What if I wanna be happy with you, baby? He thought to himself for a few seconds, and in a split second decision, he unclasped their hands and reached to where his left hand was still wrapped with a glove. “I’m going to be showing you something, and before you can ask me anything, I’d rather get everything off my chest first, alright?” Y/N looked uneasy yet at the same time curious with what he was going to open up to her. 

Untangling his arms from her warmth, he first took care of removing the jacket he wore. She turned to face him and was eager to ask questions but chose to remain silent. As he placed the jacket on top of his bag, he removed the glove that shielded her from fully seeing the lack of flesh on his left hand and instead was greeted with metal.

Y/N lets out a loud gasp as she looks down on the prosthetic arm Bucky had. As her gaze shifted from his hand to his eyes, the super soldier could see how her face wrinkled not in pity, but in worry and concern. What happened? Who did this to you? Did it hurt? Are you still in pain? Those were the four questions that were loitering her mind and Bucky somehow had the idea that those were the things that she had in mind.

“I don’t know if you know, but I was the Winter Soldier. HYDRA, an evil organization, brainwashed me and made me do their dirty work. When they found me, I had fallen off a ravine which made me lose my arm. They gave me a metal one, to make me stronger and more invincible I guess.” Even though he only provided her a summary of what he’s been through, he failed to realize how a few stray tears escaped his eyes. Dainty and delicate fingers wiped his tears away and he smiled at the action. 

They both were silent for a few moments, the hundred year old man was bracing himself for the moment Y/N was going to bid him adieu, and he wouldn’t blame her for who would want someone with so much baggage? “You said it yourself, Bucky, you were brainwashed,” she soothed him as her hands settled on his stubbled cheeks and her touch was feather-like and was giving him comfort unlike any other, “That wasn’t what you wanted to do. They forced you to do it. I’m sorry that that happened to you, but you don’t need to let your past define how your future will turn out to be. You’re free now, you take control of your fate.”

She ended her statement by placing a warm kiss on his forehead; the action had Bucky smiling and looking at her sheepishly with crimson in his cheeks. “You’re too kind, doll,” he shyly responded to her assurance. “I meant every word, Bucky. You deserve to be happy,” she then hugged him tight, her smaller frame snuggling into his larger one. With the side of her face resting on his chest and his chin resting on the top of her head, she failed to see how Bucky was smiling widely as a thought and plan came into his mind. I will be happy, baby. Soon, with you.

Following their small heart-to-heart talk, they both went home just as the sun set — not before taking a few pictures of course, mostly of Y/N because Bucky loved how the combination of pink and yellow complimented her skin — so he wanted to take photographs to remind him of this lovely memory. And as they both went home, they bonded even more as they ate dinner. 

The following day, however, they both didn’t get to spend as much time as Bucky would have wanted. She told him during breakfast how today she’ll try the pocket WiFi that was given to her. And in the process of doing so she would be having meetings with some of her co-workers. Instead of sulking around, the war veteran tended to his garden, harvesting the vegetables and plants that he deemed were already ready to be eaten, he also washed and dried his laundry, and cleaned Alpine’s litter box. 

By the time he had done all his chores, it was already quarter to 5 pm when he settled on continuing to read the book on the porch with Alpine once again laying on his lap. Today’s heat had been more cruel than it was yesterday and with his lovely guest not knowing about the truth of his left arm, he traded the long sleeves for a tank top paired with basketball shorts. Just as he was reading about the climax of the novel, he heard the front door opening and footsteps approaching him, “Hey Bucky, how you doing?” 

The mentioned man placed his book down on the table and turned to her with a smile, “Busied myself with housework. Are you done with your test and meetings?” He hoped that she was done with her work, he already missed spending time with her and he wondered that maybe this was what Alpine felt like whenever she wanted to be snuggling next to Bucky. “Yeah I’m done for today! And I was thinking that maybe I can cook something? Was there something you’d like to have for dinner?”

The cheeky part of him thought of telling her how he’d love to have her for dinner but decided he did not want to creep her out. “Surprise me with you culinary skills, doll,” he challenged her and he chuckled with how she responded, “You bet! I’ll make a meal that will make you forget your name with how good it is!”

Throughout the entire time that she made the meal, he kept her company and the conversation between the two flowed effortlessly. Every possible topic that they could talk about, you can bet that they talked about it. And even as they were both eating supper, they both shared more about their personal life. Bucky shared about how things were back in the 40’s and how he missed dancing.; while she shared more about her family and the different jobs she had.

One thing that Bucky was more than pleased to find out was that she was single and had not been dating anyone for a while. After dinner, Y/N found herself wanting to sleep right away due to exhaustion of her work-filled day. But before she did, she asked Bucky if it was alright for them to go back to the lake since she wanted to go for a swim, to which he replied with, “If it’ll make you happy, doll, then I’ll do it.” She masked the giddiness she felt by telling him goodnight and how she couldn’t wait to go.

As the super soldier laid down on his bed, he couldn’t prevent the goofy grin forming on his lips as he recalled how close he got with one of his guests. He never imagined how she could have made this impact on him in a short amount of time. Though he failed to bond with her for the majority of the day, he reassured himself that tomorrow — and possibly the next few days — they’d both get to make up for it. But there was something inside him that seemed too impatient to wait, and instead was extremely eager to start compensating for the time they failed to spend with each other.

Which led him to where he was right now; walking out of his bedroom as he strides with purpose and like a possessed man making his way to where the girl who plagued his mind currently was peacefully sleeping. Quietly, he opened the door just enough for him to take a peek to see if she was startled by the action even though Bucky did so with caution. Not noticing any movement or reaction, he opened the door wide enough to allow himself to enter and closed it as he welcomed himself in her room. Standing at the foot of the bed, he couldn’t help but admire her sleeping form; she was laying on her right side with her right hand pressed to her cheek and her left arm propped down on her waist. He noticed how the end of the blanket that was draped over was along the middle region of her thighs, exposing her lower legs.

He stood there, marveling at how peaceful and how pure she looked. He imagined himself snuggling her frame and providing her with warmth whenever the night got too chilly. Or how he wouldn’t mind her using his metal arm as her pillow as long as he got to run his fingers through her skin in an attempt to lull her to sleep. Or how he would whisper sweet nothings and words of assurance to her should she awake due to a nightmare.

The wholesome and loving thoughts he had took a different turn when her left hand unconsciously  bunched up the sheets and moved it away from her body, which exposed her unclothed body to the hungry eyes of Bucky. She laid there with no clothing of any kind and the blanket — which was now pooling between her under boob and just below her navel — now barely concealed her body. His gaze was now roaming around her body and hungirly took in the view; her breasts looking as if it was the most delectable thing he’d ever seen with her gum drop nipples all stiff due to the wind, her luscious legs were just begging to be touched and worshiped, and her cunt, that though he couldn’t properly get an entire view of due to how she was facing the wall but from from where he stood he can see how pretty and enticing it was with how she chose to groom it. 

One thing that he was more than grateful for is that her ass was fully exposed and should he choose to sit on the chair that was right across where she laid, he would have gotten a great view of it; and so he did. Sitting down on the chair, he found himself lowering the boxer shorts he wore that suddenly became too tight for his cock that hardened. “Fuck,” he hissed as he began to slowly stroke himself, teasing himself and wanting to savor the view that he had.

From slowly running his hand up and down his shaft, those strokes became fast as his mind was filled with images and scenarios of him taking Y/N in various ways.

“Fuck Bucky, harder,” she moaned as she felt Bucky’s grips on her hips tighten before he controlled her body to match his thrusts, moving her along as he slid in and out of her as a response to her plea. Wanting to feel more of her, one of his hands left her hips to grip her shoulder and pull her to him so her back was pressed against his sweaty chest; to keep her steady and against his chest, the hand on her shoulder detached from her shoulder and moved to hold on to her breast, pulling and tugging on the swollen nipple.

“That what you want, baby girl? Need me to fuck you hard?” He teased her as her whines increased at the assault he was doing to her. She just nodded her head rapidly, but that wasn’t enough for Bucky, he let go of her breast and slapped both of them hard enough to elicit a reaction out of her, “I wanna hear you say it! Say you like getting fucked hard like a slut!” 

“I love it! I love how you’re fucking me like a slut, Bucky!” she moaned out loud and found herself hooking her hand to his hand that wasn’t on her hip. The man simply smirked at how much of a wreck she was and he loved it.  She guided his hand to her neck and his smirk became even more sinister and he let her know his appreciation, “Yeah you’re just a filthy girl aren’t you,” his grip on her neck tightened and he felt her tighten and got the hint that she was close,  “And since I love my filthy girl, why don’t you come for me?”

Bucky knew he was nearing his climax, but he decided that the visual wasn’t enough for him; he needed the actual thing. Completely undressing himself, he walked towards where she was laying and turned her gently so she now laid on her back. “Goddamn you’re beautiful, baby,” he whispered as he kneeled on the bed and his knees were on the sides of her body. He stretched her left leg to the outside of his right knee, her inner thigh grazing his knee. While he lifted her right leg and let it rest on his shoulder.

Rubbing his right hand on her clit, he felt how wet she already was and slid a finger in, moving his finger around, he took note of how she was completely drenched. “I guess you pleasured yourself before sleeping huh?” Pulling his finger out and bringing it to his lips, his suspicion was confirmed as he tasted her sweet juices.

“This’ll be easier then,” he sighed as he pushed his cock in and slid in one swift motion thanks to her juices. He stared off with slow and long thrusts, checking to see if she’ll wake up — thankfully she didn’t. He then took this as his queue to give her harder thrusts, pulling out until his tip lightly brushes the opening of her tight canal and pushing all the way in with force until his balls were pressed tightly against her ass.

“Can’t wait for you to enjoy this when you’re awake doll,” Bucky rasped out in between his thrusts, which were now slowly becoming faster. The speed of his hips were causing the bed to shake and he feared that if it weren’t for his actions, then maybe the sound of the bed hitting the wall would cause her to regain consciousness. But she was so deep in her slumber that she didn’t.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum inside of you. Will mix my juices with yours,” Bucky moaned lowly. And he felt his climax nearing that his judgement was clouded and his sole focus was to let himself go. So he moved around in the bed until his feet hit the floor and spread her both legs wide open to the sides, all without pulling himself out.

Placing his hands on both her inner thighs, he pressed them down and didn’t hold back as he slammed his cock in and out of her pussy. His pelvis met her thighs with each thrust, his hands tightly holding on to her thighs which somehow made her clench down on him even more, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of her breasts bouncing along with the power of his hips, and the tip of the iceberg was when she began letting out small and quiet whimpers. 

“Shit, you’re squeezing me so well baby,” he breathed out as he slammed himself inside her and stayed planted in here as he felt himself release his load. Head thrown back and panting loudly, she whimpered a little and was clenching her pussy which milked even more of Bucky’s seed. She must be dreaming of someone fucking her, God I hope it’s me she’s thinking about, Bucky thought as he pulled his cock out until only the tip was inside her; he stroked the part of his cock that wasn’t inside her, making sure that every last drop of his seed didn’t drip into the bed and was instead all inside her.

After taking a few minutes to recover, he pulled out completely and positioned her in the bed prior to how she was before he came in. He grabbed his discarded boxers and put them on him. Before walking out of the room he went back to the bed, leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Can’t wait to swim with you baby girl.”

Arising from her sleep, Y/N stretched her body and rubbed the sleepiness off her eyes. She couldn’t help but grin at the memories of how she pleasured herself before she drifted off to dreamland and when she did, her subconscious was somehow able to project a scenario wherein she was getting railed by Bucky. The mention of his name in her mind had her blushing; she brought her fingers down to her pussy to inspect the aftermath of her masturbation and was surprised to see how wet she was and how much she orgasmed.

Before making her way down to greet her host, she first dressed up in her bikini, however she didn’t want to walk down right away only with the flimsy pair, so she wore a tank top and a pair of shorts on top of the swimwear. Making her way down the stairs, she saw Bucky relaxing on the couch and was on his phone, “Good morning, Bucky. Did you sleep well?” 

She plopped herself down at the armchair opposite where Bucky was sitting, and the metal-armed man fumbled to pocket his phone and turn his attention to the girl who warmly greeted him. “I slept peacefully, doll. Where are you headed all dressed up like that?”

“I was hoping we could have brunch by the lake? And then swim afterwards?” She shyly suggested and it was adorable for the veteran to see her all shy and flustered, he didn’t have it in him to reject her idea. “That’s a great idea, doll! I’ve already prepared some food that I can just pack up in tupperwares,” just as he was about to head to the kitchen to do so she stood quickly and told him, “I can do it! My bag’s all ready and I’m dressed up so I can do all those while you get ready.”

He smiled and thanked her for volunteering, he let her know where the tupperwares and picnic baskets were before heading up to change. As he was changing in his room into a navy tank top along with a pair of shorts, he decided that today was the day. He was gonna make his move and let him know that he wants her here with him. 

The drive to the lake had been peaceful; Bucky offered to drive and she accepted so she was left to admire the scenery as they both traveled to their destination. Once Y/N caught a glimpse of the lake, she had already been fumbling to unbuckle her seatbelt and before Bucky had fully parked the car, the front passenger door was already being opened and the woman beside him carried her bag as she excitedly ran towards the dock.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself, doll! Be careful!” He called out to her as he switched off the engine and moved to grab the picnic basket at the backseat. Catching up to where she was standing near the edge of the dock, she turned to him and smiled, “I’m sorry, I just get really excited when I see the water. Plus, it’s been forever since I got to swim,” her exaggeration in the apology had him chuckling and he simply put the basket down and took out the blanket he had and laid it out.

Kneeling down, Bucky then rummaged through the items on the basket, “What do you wanna eat, doll? Want to have some muffins? I also have some bacon if you want,” he looked up to see that his lovely doll was stripping off her top and bottoms, with her back facing him. She folded her clothes and placed it on top of her bag, she turned to him and smiled, “I don’t wanna eat, I want to swim first.” 

The super soldier barely got to process the words that left her mouth as he was admiring the swimsuit she was wearing, “That’s a pretty bikini you have there, doll,” he mindlessly blurted out. She blushed at the praise and he noticed as well how she rubbed her luscious thighs and it got him thinking that maybe she had a praise kink. “It’s one of the eight swimsuits they sent me,” was all she said before she waived and ran towards the end of the dock and jumped as she splashed down on the lake.

Fuck, one of eight swimsuits? She’s trying to kill me. He thought to himself as he felt his cock start to harden at the thought of seeing her in her swimwear and possibly railing her as she wears it. But first, he thought he had to eat up before making those plans and desires come true. 

Y/N was having fun just swimming around. The lake had clear and clean water. She was able to see her feet and the sandy floor through the water. The lack of seaweeds and other aquatic plants on the lake was something she was thankful for since she loathed swimming around and feeling something grazing her leg. 

Quite some time had already passed since Y/N began swimming and Bucky was just sitting there as he ate and was staring at her every movement. “Come join me, Bucky! The water’s not too cold, it’s perfect!” he smiled and put the muffin he was munching on down and moved to take his shirt off.

Her mouth hung agape and a little bit of drool came out of her mouth as she gazed on the man’s body. He was toned and defined; her fingers ached to run it through his wide chest and shoulders and she would have also loved to feel his bulging arms wrapped around her. She was snapped out of her thoughts as she heard a big splash and felt the water moving against her.

“Hi there, beautiful,” having this Adonis of a man face her and greet her sweetly had her giggling. “Good for you to join me; was starting to think you didn’t know how to swim that’s why you didn’t wanna join me,” her accusation had him gasping and feigning hurt. “You really think that lowly of me, doll?”

Y/N swam away from Bucky, creating some distance between them; this had the man tilting his head to the side in curiosity. “Don’t tell me you’re easily hurt by that! I wonder what happens if I challenge you to a splash fight?” Just as she said that she began to flick her wrists to splash some water in Bucky’s direction.

They both were giggling as they both began to soak each other with water. After a while they both stopped and Y/N let her arms float on the water as she stared at the man adoringly; while he thought that it was finally time to speed things up. Swimming towards her, he erased the distance between them and held both her hands against his chest. He felt her breath quicken and she was staring at him with wide and inquisitive eyes.

Lifting both her wrists, he placed a long and sensual kiss on the insides of her wrists. A sharp intake of breath was heard from her lips and he rested her forearms on his shoulders as his flesh hand pulled her closer to him by the hips while his metal hand gently caressed her cheek, “Had your fun already, baby girl?”

With a flushed face she nodded and pursed her lips together, “Don’t do that princess, that’s my job,” Bucky reprimanded her as he brushed his metal thumb in her lips but quickly moved the hand towards the nape of her neck and pulled her close for their lips to collide. He swallowed her whimper of shock and took the opportunity to let his tongue inside her mouth.

Slanting his head, he deepened the kiss as his flesh hand moved to wrap her thigh around his hips in order to get their bodies as close as possible and to feel every inch of her. Bucky smirked as he felt her tongue dancing along with the direction of his tongue and when he felt her hands cup his cheeks he couldn’t hold himself back from placing both his hands to grab her bikini-covered bum and grind her core to his.

“Oh God,” she whimpered against his lips, as if she was starting to pull away; but Bucky didn’t want her to do so, so he chased her lips with his and planted it firmly against her, leaving her no room but to comply with what he wanted.

Her hands traveled down from his cheeks to his neck and down to his shoulders, where she anchored herself to separate her tongue from roaming around his mouth. Her chest was heaving up and down as she stared down at Bucky who was loving this out of breath and dazed state she was in, “What was that?”

Her question made him chuckle darkly before teasing her, “That was just a preview of what’s to come, baby,” this just confused her even more and she tilted her head but he simply removed his hands from her body and she whined at the loss of contact — which Bucky thought as completely adorable — but he kissed her forehead, “Enjoy your swim doll, a few more minutes then we go home, got it?” She nodded and watched as he swam his way to the docks and busied himself with drying himself up and packing up their picnic.

She shrugged off the million thoughts racing through her head and decided that swimming would probably help her clear her head.

Something in the air shifted as they both were driving home after spending nearly two hours by the lake. While keeping his eyes on the road, Bucky’s metal hand was on the steering wheel while his flesh hand was gripping and caressing Y/N’s thighs. He loved how she didn’t flinch when he did so and instead she enveloped his hand with both her thighs.

Upon arriving back at the home, Bucky opened the car door for her and she smiled and thanked him. As he went to retrieve the picnic basket, his doll went ahead to get inside the house and it was finally time for him to make his move.

Placing the basket down on the floor without a care, he grabbed her hand as she was headed for the stairs; her bag falling off her shoulders as a result. “Bucky,” she was cut off as Bucky planted his lips against her and pulled her by the hips to feel her skin against his. She moaned out loud and he smirked as he once again let his tongue inside her and began to roam her insides and massaged her tongue with his.

“I fucking need you, baby,” he rasped out without fully disconnecting his lips from hers, “You gonna let me have you?” she whimpered and simply nodded. This made Bucky happy, and to show his appreciation, he kissed her neck and her collarbones as his hands quickly ripped the material of her shirt against her. A loud gasp was let out, and it informed the man who was vigorously kissing her that she was turned on with what he did.

Placing his hands behind her hips, he guided her walk with him to the couch with his lips still attached to her hot skin. They both worked to remove her of her shorts before Bucky was pushing her to sit down on the couch. “Don’t take your bra off, remove those panties, I wanna see your ass,” he commanded as his eyes roamed around her body as he took his shirt and shorts off, revealing that he didn’t have any underwear on. 

“Press your cheek against the sofa and put your ass up in the air for me, princess,” he groaned upon seeing her full ass on display. He smacked both her cheeks at the same time and chuckled as she shook her ass in response. One hand had a firm grip on her hip while the other stroked his cock and teased the tip on her clit. “You ready, baby? Want to feel my cock inside you?”

She nodded, “Yes please, Bucky, I need to feel you push your cock inside me,” by the end of her whining he had already slid inside her and pushed it all the way until she felt his balls slap against her ass. She let out a dragged moan as he let out profanities and praises about how she enveloped him well.

Pulling his hips back, he thrust right back in which made her moan once again. His other hand was now teasing her clit by rubbing it and he felt her coat his cock with more of her juices. “God, you feel like heaven, princess. Wrapping your tight pussy around me so good,” he threw his head back but his hips were doing the opposite. His pelvis was slamming deep and fast against her that her ass was feeling the friction of his trimmed pubic hair.

“It’s so good, Bucky. Love how you’re pounding me,” the praise and small amount of dirty talk was enough for Bucky to groan and drive his hips even deeper and stronger, if that was even possible. “Fuck you’re so dirty, doll. My dirty doll, right?” he asked as he wrapped a handful of her hair against him and pulled her against him; her back against his chest and he could her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

Untying her bra, he tossed it on the floor and both his hands began to twist, pinch, pull, and flick on her nipples. Palming her breasts, he continued to spur him on with his words, “Who knew how much of a filthy princess you were huh? That you were really a slut wanting to get fucked?” she whined out loud and this prompted Bucky to sit down on the couch and drag her with him; ending up in a position that would allow her to ride him. “Ride me, bitch. Ride  me ‘til we both cum,” he was surprised with how she eagerly responded to his command.

She leaned back and planted her hands on his abs and began to lift her body up and down, moving her pussy in and out of his cock. With one hand resting at the back of his head, the other was slapping her ass that was bouncing up and down on him. “Only a slut like yourself knows how to ride a cock this good, baby,” his statement ended with a groan as she stopped her bouncing and was instead sitting with his cock fully inside her, and she began to move in slow and hard circles. As if she was grinding on his dick.

“God, I’m so close, you got me near my edge, slut,” Bucky groaned and slapped both her ass cheeks at the same time, “Face me, baby. Turn around and face me, without leaving my cock.” He grinned as she halted her movements and twisted her body so she was greeted with the sight of Bucky’s chest sweaty and a smirk planted on his lips.

He sat up from his lying position and sat up so their chest were pressed firmly against each other, “Are you close, baby?” She threw her head back and nodded as Bucky began to move his hips so he could match the way she was sliding up and down his cock. Slapping her cheek, not too hard but enough to get her to look at him, he growled, “Tell me, princess. Tell me you’re close and that you wanna cum.”

Her mouth opened but a moan came out of her, he gave her a particularly harsh thrust and she finally gave in, “I wanna cum, Bucky, I need to. Please let me cum on your cock.” He smirked, satisfied with her answer and took control of the tempo of the way she was riding him. Holding on hard enough on her hips, enough to leave marks, he began to lift her up and down on him; he was lifting her up so fast that she barely had time to breathe and the way he slammed her was so hard he could hear their skin slapping against each other.

“You’re squeezing my cock so good, baby” Bucky groaned and he felt how close she was but needed added stimulation to let herself go. He lowered his mouth to cover her nipple with his lips; the sensation of licking and sucking hard on her nipple coupled with the cruel hip thrusts he was giving into her was enough for Y/N to grip on his shoulders and plant her lips on the top of his head, “Bucky, fuck,” was all she was able to let out as a warning for the orgasm that washed over her.

After feeling her juices drip down, there was something primal in him that made him more determined than ever to blow his load; so he removed his mouth from her nipple and laid her down on her back and moved to lift her legs, phishing them to her chest. “You gonna take my cum, baby? Gonna let me put it all in you?” He was thrusting violently, there was no rhythm but just him ruthlessly sliding his cock in and out of her tight canal, his mind was filled with images of her staying here with him, building a life together.

“Bucky, I’m so sensitive,” she squealed, and the man just smirked and to her surprise she just slammed his hips faster. He looks beautiful like this, she thought, but there was a part of her that thought she might explode if he continued his brutal assault on her body; and she was starting to get sleepy. Bucky slammed his cock all the way in until his balls were against her ass and stayed there, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he moaned as he emptied his balls and shoved all his cream inside her.

He looked down on his precious angel and smiled at the sight of her with her eyes closed, running a finger to her face, just admiring her post-sex glow and the way she was all sweaty. He leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, “You did so well for me, baby.”

Without removing his cock from her, he moved to carry her, with ease he then brought both of them upstairs and into his room. Upon entering, he saw that Alpine was still lazily sleeping on the bed he got her and smiled, “I got you a mommy already, Al,” he whispered and felt himself harden again at the nickname he’d given the lovely girl in his arms.

Laying the both down, he wrapped both his arms around the sleeping beauty beside him and kissed her lips once more, “Welcome home, doll.”

[redphlox]

Do you think that Touya being premature has like anything to do with the upcoming plot or was it just a little titbit to explain his size? I'm a preemie too and I think it's cool that my favourite character is similar to me in some way!

Hey there! Thanks for the ask <3 (cw: premature babies) From what I have read, it seems like the translation was wrong about Touya being a preemie baby. Apparently the word used to describe Touya was “hayaumare” (早生まれ) which is used to describe someone who was born during the earlier months of the year. @todomitoukei mentions it here in her 302 translation meta post. Also check out this website for a more in-depth explanation of this aspect of Japanese culture because it explains how the time of the year of birth affects when a child begins school.

In regards to the question of Touya being a premature baby even with this aspect of hayaumare taken into account, I’ll say that if Touya was born premature, I don’t think he was so early that it continues affecting his health into his 20′s. The WHO and my child development textbooks report that there are 3 different subcategories of prematurity: extremely (less than 28 weeks), very preterm (28-32 weeks), and moderate to late preterm (32-37 weeks). 

According to this website and also what I have been learning about child development in my studies for my career, most premie babies catch up in growth around 2 to 3 years of age. Touya would have to have been EXTREMELY premature for his height to still be affected, as in born at 25 weeks - halfway through the pregnancy. Sometimes when a baby is born that early, there are other complications or long term affects such as developmental delays, dental issues, vision issues, intestinal issues, lung/respiration issues, and higher risks for neurological disorders. 

So, I feel like Touya being this premature would have been delved into significantly. It would have been a major plot point and wouldn’t have just been chalked up to or summed up to “he was born premature” because that population is so diverse and encompasses a wide variety of needs. A baby born at 35 weeks has a higher chance of survival and catching up to their peers within months versus a baby born at 25 weeks. And, Touya being born extremely premature would have made his dad’s decision to train him that much more problematic and terrible.  

TLDR; Based on everything we’ve been told from the manga, I think Touya was a scrawny kid and then underwent a growth spurt at 13 when he hit puberty. Touya looks even smaller when compared to Natsuo, but it’s not fair to compare him to Natsuo because Natsuo is an outlier - he’s so tall, he’s basically a ladder...lmao. Touya isn’t short either, his height is pretty average compared to the rest of the male population of Japan in 2018. I think if he were severely premature, he would be experiencing issues besides his height, such as lung issues. 

BUT I will say that every baby is different! Basically, medicine is so advanced nowadays and just keeps getting better. No two premature babies are alike! Maybe your experiences are/would be the same as Touya’s or different. If you have any preemie!Touya headcanons I would love to hear them!

(And, in case it comes up, this isn’t to discount or invalidate the struggles of anyone who was born premature. I’m stating what I’ve learned in my program. Also, it’s difficult to assess a fictional person’s health...Dabi continues to be an enigma.)

ALSO I doubt Hori spends hours researching things on the internet or reading textbooks and research studies when writing out his story. I will say a lot of our knowledge of medicine and anatomy can’t be directly applied to BNHA. Like, how many times have our faves been injured or almost died? Lol. 

[mochikeiji]

Rockabye, My Love

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: slight fluff, soft father/daughter moments, angst. Trigger Warning: mentions of death, depression.

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Every lyrics had a deeper meaning in them than just words that'll fit a song. Yours was heavier than anyone could think of, and Akaashi was singing it to his beloved baby girl.

↣ a/n: ohayo world! I'm sorry for late posts, expect the upcoming ones soon. School was giving too much works again. Thank you all for loving my Day 2 fic in Akaashi Week!! Also, the lullaby in this lyrics is the same tune as Isabella's Lullaby from The Promised Neverland.

⇢ Day 3: Single Parent AU

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine.

You are the most precious thing I have loved.

I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more.

I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you.

You are the most beautiful thing that has came.

I will protect you forever, my love."

Life is difficult in many ways. It's either we were born different, have lost someone dear or have lost ourselves. It's no wonder how millions of people from all around the world, evert second, minute, hour— someone gives up on everything. It was cruel, disturbing, most of all heart breaking.

Akaashi never understood your true intentions. He was one hundred percent sure he had kept an eye on you at all cost. He's made you smile brighter, he's understood you more than anyone. He made you feel alive.

Yet now you ended up being dead to your own inner demons.

He remembers coming home after receiving good news from his company. He had received a promotion and a week off just for you. That was when the hospital had contacted him. He can recall his ragged breathing when he was allowed to place a foot in your room. Your monitor beating in an ever agonizingly slow rhythm, he knew it wasn't normal and immediately ran to your side.

He wanted to yell, scream, ask you why, why did you do this to yourself but he couldn't, not when you looked at him so scared and weak. The doctors had told him that he had only a few minutes with his wife, the drugs you've intake was too much, not everything was removed nor pumped out of your system. Akaashi never felt so depressed in all his life after that situation as he buried himself into your chest, listening to your lullabies that soon died down along with the light in your eyes.

That was the only reminisces he's had with you,the lullaby you would sing to yourself as a teen who strived to survive the world, a lullaby for his anxieties and own demons to be tamed, and the last thing you ever said. He was happy that over the years before your death, you had given him a customized music box that had the right notes of your song, only this time no one was singing it.

Fingers tapping anxiously on his work table, Akaashi started to fiddle with his thumb and then his index, losing his focus despite looking at the same drafted page lit up on his computer screen. He kept eyeing the pack of cigarettes that was just on the edge of his window— he needed one right now. Cigarettes were the last options he has for when he couldn't calm his beating heart or let his emotions out. But he knows how wrong it was to be damaging his health, and he knows he's going to get an earful from Bokuto since he visits his apartment every weekend. Even if Akaashi tries to hide his dirty deeds, Bokuto wasn't stupid to read through his eyes like before.

Foot was starting to bounce, his eyebrows were beginning to furrow, as if he was irritated, in trouble, or something. It wss getting harder for him, who wouldn't after losing their wife? The person he's loved since his teen years, the one he's vowed to never make her feel like how she did in the past. He failed you. He blames himself for all that matter, if he's added more precautions, maybe you'd still be here.

He bites his lips and whimpers, hands ruffling through his tossled hair and holding his head as his elbows were supporting him on the table. Everything was closing in once more, the walls to his workspace became suffocating, how he wishes one of his friends or yours would come knocking at his door even though it was already 2:30 am knowing how reckless he's getting. He swore he wasn't going to die sooner as you did. He promised to himself to let you and his memories live on, because once he dies, no one will ever remember the battles you've fought for, the good things you've done to many, and the love you've shared with him throughout the years.

"It's so hard without you, love.."

Eyes finally cracking with tears behind his glasses, he lets them stream down his face with his body shaking on his chair. Soon enough he was bound to get another headache from extreme emotion and will probably lay the whole day about it. But none of that mattered to him anymore.

He just wanted you back.

But his cries weren't the only ones that can be heard in his apartment.

Jolting up to realization, he carelessly wipes away his tears with his sleeves and tumbles our of his chair straight to his room. His heart was beating fast in worry and adrenaline, he thought the source of the crying in his room had been taken away or worse.

But it turns out, it was just his little baby girl crying in lonliness.

As he got closer, her cries were getting deafening, but he didn't mind. Not when his heart was swooning with guilt when he thought of giving up and caving to his own needs when he's forgotten he has a reason to continue on.

With the night lamp on at the side of her crib and his bed, he cooes at the sobbing baby with sweet nothings to catch her attention. Th cries immediately died down and replaced with sniffles and the baby looking up hazily at the dark figure above her.

Smiling, Akaashi carefully picks her up from the crib to cradle her on his chest. Giving her small pats on her back with hush whispers when he feels her stretch on his body.

"Shhh, I'm sorry, were you lonely?"

Grabbing on the string of his lamp shade on the nightstand, he pulls the string, allowing more light to glow in his room, and for his little girl to finally see that she wasn't alone anymore. Akaashi swayed gently as he remained in eye contact with the baby, smiling ever so slightly at the unreadable expression his daughter was possessing and played with her fingers.

"Maybe I should work with you around, you never really like it in the dark, do you, baby?"

His little girl cooes at him, curious of what language he was speaking to her and hopes he understood what she was saying as well. Akaashi's heart swelled at the adorable sound and nuzzled his face softly on her stomach, the baby still confused as ever but just clenches her hands in wonder.

His anxieties and thoughts disappearing in the air whilst he sat down on his bed and held his baby near to where his hesrt was beating. The same day you died, was the same day you had given birth. It was a miracle for the baby to be healthy despite what you had intake. He remembers after your announced death, the nurses had to usher him out, but only to drag him into another room where lies a bassinet and a couple of IV's attached and treatments.

When he got closer, his world was shaken that day. The sight of you and his baby alive and now existing after 9 months of waiting was there right before his eyes. But his heart broke at the thought of him being the only one to raise her, and her not having to meet her beloved mother. He was so emotional that day that he almost lost it when he realizes why she was kept in there and why there were so much stuff in this room. He didn't want to think thag he was losing another one when he had just met her.

The nurses explained that there was nothing wrong with the baby, just taking further check ups and to ensure she was absolutely healthy. He was already been forced outside your room that no longer held light, he wasn't going to leave the room where his daughter was until he holds her in his arms where he knows she'll be at the safest.

As time went by to now, Akaashi feared her growing up in the future. She resembled mostly to you. She was a dead carbon copy of you and he was terrified she'd experience what you have as history might repeat itself. The very thought of his daughter having something inside her little head without telling him scares him, Akaashi knew how cruel the world can be and hoe each second in life matters because we are unaware of the deaths happening at those time.

He prayed his baby girl wouldn't go through what you did as a child and carry it until she grows up. He hopes and believed in his own strength that he wasn't going to fail her this time— that there will be no person by her side and will lovd and protect her other than her daddy.

His tears blocking his vision of her as he held her tightly. He whimpers at remembering his thoughts earlier. He wanted to curse himself from thinking of leaving his daughter to fend for herself in this world and to find a way to be back to you. But he knows he was still with you, your daughter was the last love you could ever give him and he was going to love her more than anything.

The trembling of his body stops when his baby started to cry and squirm in his hold. Her whimpers breaking his heart when he couldn't solve her distress, it seemed like she was in pain and he knew this situation like in the past.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. I'm always here. I'm sorry."

Reciting out the same line he's used when he held you against his body that night. You cried and held a hand to your heart that day as he hugged you tighter. The demons inside you he had curse to go away and leave you alone. But they didn't.

An idea popped in his head and reached out inside his nightstand drawer. The little music box you have crafted for him still looked the same as it was before since it was taken with good care. He proceeded to wind it gently to let the soft tune play as he stood up once more to cradle his crying baby.

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine."

He sings the first verse of the long memorized lullaby you sang for him. Using his thumb to wipe away the little tears that had escaped his daughters eyes. Her cries were stopped momentarily and were replaced by sniffles. Her dazed eyes making eye contact with her father's.

"You are the most precious thing I have loved."

Akaashi would be cringing thinking his voice was terrible, but the little girl in his arms seemed to be intrigued and loving the harmonized voice of her daddy and an unknown tune from the background.

His voice was smooth and soft. Completely out of character from his monotone one, but enough to capture the attention of someone.

"I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more."

He couldn't tell if he was singing the lullaby to her or he was making a silent vow to her. The lullaby you sang to him for the first time he tried searching for in the internet what the lyrics meant and who wrote it. Sadly, there were no results that came up that day.

And you never really told him how you got that song and who it was referring to in the lyrics.

But nevertheless, the lyrics could never be at the right time as it was now. It felt like he was reminding himself of what his role was from now on and what his daughter should always remember as she grows up.

No one was going to hurt her on her watch.

"I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you."

At the end of that line his voice cracks as he held back his own tears. He can hear only now your voice and hoe you would thread his hair during nights of distress. How he missed so many cracks of your voice from being too intrigued with the song. How he missed the fact that you needed him the most those nights of terror, yet you chose to make him feel secure and loved without leaving anything for yourself.

Slowly, his mind was connecting all the lyrics and your actions in his head. You were a self reliant person.

You sang this song in reminder that you were loved, beautiful and was protected by the few people that truly loved you. This song was meant to keep you alive.

To keep him going.

And now

It was a vow from him to his daughter.

"You are the most beautiful thing that has came."

Smiling sadly down to his baby now calmed down and listening intently to her daddy, Akaashi leans down to press kisses on her face with his tears sliding down.

He should've sang this to you when you needed it the most. A reminder of what you truly were to him. He hopes deep inside, somewhere up there or in his room you were listening. Listening to him remind you and his daughter— his world and universe, that he was going to be stronger and fulfill his own promises.

One day he was going to meet you in another life he believed, where he'd make you stay, where you and him will raise your little girl once again and he'll wake up next to you. Where he'll be the one singing this lullaby tune as he hold you both in his arms.

But for now, it was just going to be him and his baby girl.

"I will, protect you. Forever, my love."

[wann-der-lusst]

Dream

by Marinel Agcaoli

There are two people who love each other purely it is Christian and Marga. Because of their love it also caused a lot of pain in their lives especially Christian.

Christian and Marga live next door in a place called Emerald Street. Christian has an admiration for his neighbor Marga she is smart, hardworking, beautiful, kind especially to her family, so that many man wants to court him. Christian always goes to Marga's house to ask for fruit and for Marga to notice him. Christian doesn't know that Marga also likes him for being a very kind person, hardworking, also loving to his family that they both share. Many months have passed many have also changed in their place as well as their feelings towards each other.

"Maybe this is the right time for me to take a step Christian said."

One day Christian saw Marga shopping at a store near them and Christian approached her to ask her a question and to ask for Marga's cellphone number so that they could talk wherever they were. Christian soon admitted that they were looking at the girl, Marga was so shocked that she suddenly cried and run away to go home. Christian did not understand why Marga suddenly left. Christian didn't know that the girl was also looking at him. A few days later the two decided to meet so that they could talk properly, so that it would be clear to them how they felt about each other. Christian didn't stop to say in front of marga that he loves it and at the same time Marga said "I love you too Christian!” From that moment they confessed and they became really overjoyed that the two felt because of their love. This lasted for two years and their tenderness never faded especially for Christian.

Until one day, Marga suddenly became ill for almost two weeks and Christian missed Marga so much that he could hardly see her. She can't go to Marga's house because Marga's parents don't know that she already has a boyfriend and especially because they don't have the same religion and Marga's father will be very angry when they find out. For almost two weeks of Marga's illness, you can see the collapse of her body. Until Marga's parents decided to take her to the doctor. They went to a private hospital near their place. A doctor immediately saw Marga and the doctor requested that Marga be given a laboratory test to diagnose her illness. After that, the doctor was seriously surprised by the results of Marga's check -up. "I'm sorry to announce that your daughter Marga has stage 3 cancer says the doctor". Marga's parents were shocked and Marga herself collapsed when she heard what the doctor said to them. "It's not true! I can't have this disease! No! Papa, mama ask us for a second test to be sure ..." Marga said.

The day came when Marga's parents were waiting to know the finals as a result of their second opinion in their second check-up for her illness. The Doctor came in and holding the result."I'm sorry to let you know that the final result was correct when you first visited the previous hospital." The doctor said.

"No! Why?! I don't want to die yet! I still have many dreams in life, they can't take them from me right away, no.!!! "Marga said. Marga's parents are crying a lot because Marga is their only child like Marga, her parents also have many dreams with her. On the day that Marga found out the final result of her illness, Marga decided to see Christian, after all, she had somewhat recovered from her illness and she was also quite strong. Marga called Christian, Christian immediately contacted him because he was so excited to see Marga. The next day they met in a park and when Christian saw Marga he immediately run towards him and he hugged her tightly because he missed Marga so much.

"How are you? Your body is too thin, what happened to you my love?" said Christian.

"It's nothing, my love, I got sick, so this is the result of my body collapsing suddenly. But now I'm regaining my strength because is healed for you, my love." Marga said. Marga decided to have a vacation in a cold place like Baguio and also to celebrate their upcoming anniversary. It was here that Marga decided to give Marga's beautiful gift to Christian, the most careful of the women, her virginity. The day came for the two of them on their anniversary, they toured and toured various tourist spots in Baguio, in the evening they went to a hotel where they stayed to rest. Marga prepared special candles and roses around and when Christian entered he was surprised to see Marga lying on the bed and naked. After that happy event especially for Christian because Christian knows how important a woman's virginity is so he was happy that his beloved Marga gave it to him even though he didn't ask for it.

Then that happy event happened especially to Christian because Christian knew how important a woman's virginity was so he was happy that his beloved Marga gave it to him even though he didn't ask for it. The sun came up when Christian woke up and Marga was not beside him and he saw a letter on the side of the bed and he read it.

"My dear Christian. Forgive me but I can't last this relationship. Forgive me. I don't want to hurt you but I have to do it so that you won't be hurt more when the time comes." After praying and reading Marga's letter to Christian, Christian's world suddenly collapsed with what was happening.

A month later, Marga noticed that she didn’t had yet a period after Christian had something with them, so Marga was scared and immediately bought a pregnancy test to make sure. It was immediately used to know the result and here it is a positive test. Marga was surprised when she saw the result and immediately went to her doctor. When she consulted her doctor she became angry and told Marga how she would be treated for her illness if she was carrying a child in her womb. Marga informed her parents and her own parents were shocked and angry as well. First of all Marga's parents did not know that she had a boyfriend. But Marga's parents did nothing because Marga was already pregnant with her child and would be their Grandson. Marga decided not to treat and take care of and make the child in her womb healthy even if it would cost her life. Because she wants to grow up and give birth to Christian's child even though her boyfriend doesn't know what's going on with Marga. Because Marga doesn't want to hurt Christian so much! Because it will break his heart to see the person you love so much than your life.

The month has passed since Marga will soon give birth to her son Christian. Marga is very weak because of her illness and it is also difficult for her to carry the child in her womb. The day came when the child was born and this is a very strong child he named it heaven because his face was an angel who descended from heaven. A few days later Christian was walking in a mall and he saw a friend of his and Marga, it was Dave. "How are you Christian? Dave said." I'm okay Christian said. "When Dave saw Christian he greeted him about Marga and him and here Christian found out that Marga had given birth which Christian was immediately surprised. Christian was surprised and thought that maybe when they separated, she immediately had a new boyfriend because he had a baby right away. Christain was angry when she heard about Marga she was very hurt. He went to Marga's house furious because of what he found out. But he didn't see Marga because it was still in the hospital the only one he caught there was his sister Rose. Here he learned the truth so much that he almost burst into tears at what he had learned. Here he finds out why Marga left him because he has cancer and he also finds out that Marga’s born child is their child. "Why didn't he say I shouldn't be with him and I take good care of him" Christian said while he was crying. '' The next day Christian immediately went to Marga to talk properly because they didn't meet after their anniversary in Baguio. In a room where Marga was confined, he entered and saw his beloved Marga. Christian was very saddened by what he saw because Marga had changed so much in his body and in his appearance.He approached her and greeted Marga. christain said "Love .. ?? How are you? why did you let fight alone ?. Marga cried and was very excited to see Christian." Love ... Forgive me if I didn't tell you everything. I don't want to hurt you because it will break my heart more my dear Christian "said Marga. After Marga and Christian were able to talk. Marga showed their beautiful baby Heaven. Christian was very happy to see their daughter and Christian promised that he would take care of them both so that he would wake up and he would make up for the months and hours he had not been with Marga. a few days later Christian kat Marga's recovery was so overwhelming that she really cared and took care of it as well as baby heaven who was a super sane child. The day came when Marga requested to buy her favorite stitch qwek qwek and she immediately bought it outside. When Christian went up to Marga's room, there were doctors running to Marga's room, Christian immediately ran to see what had happened. Marga's parents immediately heard screams and cries. Christian who seemed to be crying inside the room. he saw Marga covered with a white blanket and Christian cried and hugged Marga. "Love !!!! this is what you bought huhuhuhu !!! I just bought it for a while why did you leave me right away my love ..... !!!!!! said christian. After Christian cried it promised Heaven will be taken care of as well as he loves Marga and he will fill her with love.After they woke up Christian woke up to the fact that it was just a dream and he seemed stunned because it seemed to be true but on the other hand It was just a dream. A few days later, Christian decided to wander outside and get some fresh air. While Christian was driving, a woman suddenly appeared on the road and hit him. He immediately get out of the car to find out the condition of a woman and it is surprised because on the other hand the woman he dreamed of is facing him now and that is where my story about Christian and Marga ends.

[afaimsarrowverse]

Arrowverse Season 2021/22 Overview:

„Supergirl“‘s and „Stargirl“‘s 2020/21-Seasons are still running, which is very strange, but I wanted to make on of those anyways before the new Seasons are starting to air, so I will just include „Supergirl“ in it for one last time, I guess. But with the upcoming Five Episode Event I felt like I had to do one.

 Supergirl:

„Supergirl“ Season 6 is still airing, and even though the season does actually belong to the 2020/21-Season while the 2021/22 Season is about to start, the show will be around for two more months. The Finale will air on November 9th, it will be a two hour event, so to speak, however it is currently unknown if the last two episodes are an actual two-parter or if they are just airing on the same day for scheduling reasons.

We have reached the second half of the season, which will include the guest appearances of well known faces, starting with Mxyzptlk and John Diggle in the current episodes. Mxy will of course return in later episodes to wrap up his storyline. Lex and Lillian will also make their return. Odette Annable was supposed to return somewhen this season, but since we have not heard anything about that anymore, it might have fallen through. However we will see Eliza Danvers and our boys again. Eliza as well als James, Winn and Mon-El will be in the Series Finale and some of them might drop in sometime before that. Nyxly and her hunt for totems will be the main story arc in the upcoming episodes, with each episode focusing on one totem and its trait and a Superfriend, who does represent that trait. Also, both Kelly and Lena will embrace their newfound destinies, while William will be tasked with Andrea’s Superfriends focused news stories.

Hopefully we will get so see M’gann somewhen before the show wraps again and get an explanation for her absence since Kara has returned, but this is not confirmed. Also John Diggle might be the only guest appearance from other Arrowverse Shows for the Final Season. In theory Clark, Lois and Barry could show up, however only if they would have filmed those scenes around the time their respective Seasons wrapped and before they went on leave. It does however seem that we will see the return of Overgirl in the Finale. There is going to be an epic battle (or a couple of battles) that will involve pretty much everyone (including James, Winn and Mon-El) and there will be a funeral. But don’t worry, oddly enough pretty much everyone will be attending this funeral, so … could it be Supergirl’s funeral and the way to end the show, with Kara either power-less or leaving for another place? Also, we might get a wedding in the Finale as well.

With the end of „Supergirl“ Melissa will be done with the Arrowverse for a while, however Chyler will be back in the weeks after on „The Flash“, and we might get to see Kelly and Nia as well the other shows after the Finale has aired.

 Batwoman:

Season 3 of „Batwoman“ will start airing on October 13th on The CW, so yes, the show will move to Wednesdays at 9:00 pm.

Ryan, Alice, Luke, Mary and Sophie are all back. The first trailer already dropped and does explain how and why Alice is still on the show. Meanwhile there is no word on Jacob. However Season 3 will add Robin Givens as Jada Jet, Nick Creegan as Marquis Jet and finally (sadly two seasons too late) Renee Montoya played by Victoria Cartagena to the Main Cast. Montoya will be a former Police Officer in this version, continuing the Police and Armed Forces Corruption Trend into Season 3, as she did quit for ehtical reasons. She will now run a „Freak Divsion“ for the Mayor’s Office, and we might even get the Question already. Maybe.

The Jets on the other hand are a rich and powerful family, with mother Jada running Jets Industries. Son Marquis on the other hand will be the typical good-for-nothing playboy at constant war with his mother. Now I will just have to admit that I have stopped watching „Batwoman“ and don’t intend to return to watch it ever again outside of Future Crossover Episodes (maybe), but it looks like the Jada is maybe Ryan‘s birth-mother and that this is the connection of those characters to Ryan. If that isn’t the case … well, then there is another first-born child Jada had to give up and is guilting on about, so … yeah, make of this what you will.

Bigger news are the villains. Every one and their mother did hear about Poisin Ivy showing up this year. Bridget Regan will play her, and she has history with Batman, so she will be Poison Ivy already. Also Mad Hatter will appear this season, and so will Killer Croc it seems. The show may also feature Penguine, but don’t hold your breath for that.

Now, production-wise Season 2 lost it’s final episode. It is unknown if 3.01 will just be that one, or if they like after Season 1 just put it in the trash and completley re-wrote it. Also according the the Director’s Guild Season 3 will wrap in December, which means The CW probably only ordered 13 episodes. Now, they may extend that order to something between 15 and 18 Episodes, but it does seems likely that they are planning to replace „Batwoman“ with either „Superman & Lois“ or „Naomi“ in early 2022, so it might really be a 13 Episodes Season.

However, we will see Ryan Wilder interact with someone else from the Arrowverse this year, but not on „Batwoman“. She will guest star on Season 8 of „The Flash“, meaning that there will probably be a Ryan-less or Ryan-light episode somewhere in the middle of this 13 episodes, so be ready for that.

 Legends of Tomorrow:

Legends of Tomorrow will return from their shortest break in-between seasons ever on October 13th and will air on Wednesdays at 8:00 pm.

The first trailer dropped already and confirms what we have been told at ComicCon and seen in the Season 6 Finale:  Yes, the Legends (minus Mick and Kayla) are stranded in 1920s with a broken or destroyed Waverider. They have to deal with this, when Season 7 begins.

John Constantine has left the show, but Matt Ryan hasn’t. He will play a new character this season. A scientist called Gwyn Davies, who is probably related to John Constantine and might have something to do with the key John gave to Zari. He will be the only hope for the Legends to ever get out oft he 1920s it seems. The other new-old addition to the main cast will be fleshy Gideon, we learned. Given what happened to the Waverider, it will be interesting to see how this comes about, however the 100th Episode is a good guess to when it will happen.

Now, given that Season 6 just finished airing a few weeks ago, we don’t know much about Season 7. We have the titles of the first six episodes, Episode 3 is the 100th and will be directed by Caity Lotz (funnily enough it’s her third episode as well!), Episode 5 will probably focus on Gwyn Davies, and according to the Director’s Guild „Legends“ is supposed to wrap in December, which means it finally happened - we will get only 13 Episodes this year. However, The CW may extend this order, they have done so several times in the past, and if we are lucky and keep our fingers crossed they may extend their oder to 15 or maybe even 16 episodes again. However just like in the case of „Batwoman“ the show is probably supposed to be replaced by either „Naomi“ or „Superman & Lois“ at the Mid-Season, so it really depends on the 2022 schedule and on how fast the production goes on and on well … the question if this will be the show‘s last season.

But before we deal with that one, let’s deal with the other open questions. We are supposed to see Dom again in Season 7, he and Phil made a handshake deal on that. But will it really happen? I have no idea, because like everyone else, I have no idea what the falling out was actually about (my best guess is that they wanted him for half a season and he was not to pleased with that idea in the middle of a pandemic), but the travelling restrictions are lifted for vaccinated people at least, so if we are lucky this might just work out. However I have no idea when, how often, and in what order his appearances or his appearance will happen. And yes, traditionally it should be the 100th Episode, but I have no idea if there are special guest stars in there. If there are, other than Mick, the best guess to who it might be would be Ray Palmer and John Constantine. Brandon Routh will appear as Ray Palmer in Season 8 of „The Flash“, meaning that he went to Vancouver to shoot stuff, so he could have been there longer already and shot something for the 100th Episode, but the timing does not seem right, we might get to see him in another episode of Season 7 instead or we might not see him at all. As for John, Matt Ryan is still on the show, and yes, the did say time and time again that Constantine’s story on the show is done, but his last scene was very strange and left many unanswered questions, he cleary was from a point in the future and knew about the cliffhangar, plus we never saw him get out of the Fountain, which was kind of strange, so maybe they will actually wrap up his story in Season 7. Now, Matt Ryan did post a picture of Constantine walking away some days after the Finale of Season 6 had aired, but he could have posted this after he had just shot his last appearance as John Constantine. But even if they wrap up these open questions or reveal that the person in that last scene was not John at all and he is actually still dead or something like that, they might not do in the 100th Episode but at a later point. Or they might not do it all. They had two seasons to make Charlie and Amaya meet and did not do it, it is very possible that we actually did saw the last of John in Season 6.

So now to the question we don’t want to think about: Will Season 7 be the final Season? I have said time and time again, that „Legends“ is the one Arrowverse-Show that could go on forever, if they wanted to. The ever-changing cast would make it possible. Even if Caity Lotz were to leave, they could just make another character the new Team Leader, they could even go as far as to make it Nia Nal or Nora West-Allen. However I don’t really think The CW thinks like that. Now, the show is still around because the producers are doing what they can to reduce the cost of it. „Superman & Lois“ is the Arrowverse-Show with the biggest budget, but it get’s money from HBOmax, as does „Batwoman“ or so they say, however „Legends“ does not, and it is show that costs the network the most. The have to recreate several different time periods on a weekly basis and are an ensemble show, do the maths. Also this season will include the 100th episode, and while streaming changed the television landscape up quite a lot in the last couple of years, old pratices are still a factor in the mind of Network Executives, meaning they want 100 Episodes but often don’t really care about the seasons after this point.

However, The CW and Mark Pedowitz really want to do another Crossover, if they can get one. And the Five Episode Event on „The Flash“ won’t really be that. And after „Supergirl“ is finished, „Legends“ and „The Flash“ will be the only Arrowverse-Shows from good old times, whose characters do know and like each other. While everyone knows Superman, they are still keeping this show apart from the rest of the Arrowverse, so I do think that if „The Flash“ gets a 9th Season, they are probably going to give „Legends“ an 8th Season, if Caity Lotz stays on the show and ratings are at the usual level. However I might be wrong there.

But if they are axing the show or ending it, we will probably be informed about it before Season 7 starts airing. If Season 7 is the last one, the writers should know that by now. And I also think that if Season 7 is the last one, they might just add a couple of episodes to it in order to make a Finale.

So yeah, I don’t know, we really have to wait and see, but the show will in any case get a proper ending, that much is for sure.

 The Flash:

Covid delays lead to a later than usual start for the shooting of Season 8. So while „Batwoman“ and „Legends of Tomorrow“ have already done around 7 episodes each, „The Flash“ is still on Episode 3, which is why the season will only start airing on November 16th.

The season will start of with „Armageddon“ – a Five Part Special Event, that will involve various guest stars and might or might not be based on the Comic-Event with the same name. „Armageddon“ will feature Ray Palmer (the Atom), Jefferson Pierce (Black Lightning), Alex Danvers (Sentinel), Mia Queen (Green Arrow), Eobard Thawne (Reverse-Flash), Damien Darhk, Ryan Choi and Ryan Wilder (Batwoman). Yes, most of those characters are from former shows (even though „Supergirl“ will just end the week before this event starts airing), but the new Batwoman is in it, so it is an actual Crossover with an on-going show. It will be the first time Ryan Wilder gets to interact with any Arrowverse-Characters outside of „Batwoman“. The villain of the piece will be Despero. Tony Curran will play the villain in probably both alien and human form. He might or might not team up with Eobard and Damien Darhk, who by the way was dead and in hell the last time we saw him, which combinded with Mia Smoak here leads into the idea that time travel might play into „Armageddon“, which will feature an Alien Invasion too big for Team Flash to handle alone, which is where all those guest stars come in. „Armageddon“ will also feature Deon Owen, Sue Dearborn and Jay Garrick. And Kristen Kramer, if Eric Wallace is to be believed, because the first few episoded of this season are supposed to explore her powers.

Now, there might be even more guest stars in „Armageddon“, but we can expect those who were announced to be the big ones. Everyone else is probably only doing a couple of scenes or a cameo. However let’s go through a list of likely suspects, who might also show up:

Kelly Olsen is of course the first, who comes to mind, she is only just becoming Guardian on „Supergirl“ now, the actress did stick around in Vancouver, and it would be weird if Alex was in those episodes but Kelly wasn’t. However, given that she was not announced, they either did not do that because they did not want to spoil her Guardian-Storyline (which just started a while after the guest stars were announced) or because she plays only a very small part in the storyline. Or she really is for whatever reason not in it. Next on the list would be Nora Darhk; with both her husband and her father showing up, it would be weird for her not to appear, but other than with Kelly there could be pratical reasons for that, namely Courtney‘s and Brandon’s son Leo. However with no Quarantine for vaccinated travelers from the US anymore, the whole family could have gone to Vancouver for a couple of days or weeks, so maybe she will show up. Then there is John Diggle. David Ramsey is directing Episode 2 of Season 2 of „Superman & Lois“, meaning he is in Vancouver, so in theory he could appear. I am compileing this before his last guest appreance on „Supergirl“ airs, when  the whole Green Lantern thing is still up in the air, so maybe we will get Green Lantern-Diggle in „Armageddon“ after all. And then there is of course Superman. „Superman & Lois“ did just start filming Season 2, so the main reason Tyler is not among these guest stars is probably scheduling. However he might be able to film a cameo or even a couple of scenes, so there is hope, just remember that they would have announced it, if he would play a big part in it.

Now Bart and Nora West-Allen are confirmed to be in this season, however it is unknown if they are in „Armageddon“. Scheduling is a conflict there for Jordan Fisher, who has a Broadway Show upcoming soon, so I am not sure when Impulse and XS will show up, however it would be more logical for them to be around at the beginning of the season rather than in the middle or at the end. Also Iris‘ Time-Sickness is not cured and will factor into the season, however Eric Wallace stated this would come into play after „Armageddon“, so maybe her kids will factor into that storyline.

After „Armageddon“ we will return to the Horror-Gerne it seems, with a villain that will make Barrys and Iris‘ life into a living nightmare. Whatever that is supposed to mean. There are guesses around who this villain is, but no one really knows. It also is a problem that Eric Wallace tends to talk very much without saying anything and often misleads people with his discription of up-coming storylines so … I would say think about the Bloodwork-Arc, it might just be something along these lines, or maybe it just is the person, who causes Iris to be time-sick (whatever that actually means) and Westallen will spend most of Season 8 apart again, because this is just the way Wallace writes them in order to keep their relationship interesting.

There will also be a storyline for Frost and Caitlin, that was supposed to be in Season 7, and maybe if we are very lucky that will finally be the one about their Mother and her Ice Powers. Joe will also get a storyline, which … I have no idea … might continue his strange Season 7 Storyline about being or not being a cop. Or he might just marry Cecile and that’s it, like I said Wallace ha a strange way of teasing upcoming storylines.

As for the Ralph-Question, no news there, as for the „Will we see Cisco this season?“-Question, also no news. Now, Rick Cosnett said something about returning to „The Flash“, however he might not have meant Season 8, if the season is not the last one, he might have referred to the same storyline Tom Cavanagh talked about a while back - the Final Storyline. And yes, there was talk about the return of Zoom, but this was more an actor wanting to return to a show than anything planned, so don’t expect him to show up anytime soon either. As for Bloodwork and Goodspeed, I have no idea if and when their storylines are going to be resolved, but the chances for Goodspeed are slighty better, I think.

Now, finally: Will Season 8 be the Last Season of „The Flash“? That really is up to Grant Gustin and what he signed on for when he signed up for Season 8. Despite Season 7 The CW still wants the show as long as possible around. If Grant sigend up for Season 8 and 9, there will be a Season 9. If he only signed up for Season 8, it depends on a decision he should be making soon. In any case, if Season 8 is the last Season, we will learn that before it starts airing aka in the next couple of months. And they will know long enough beforehand to do their planned Final Storyline.

Given they only began filming in late August and that they are taking their time with the Event, Season 8 will be shorter again. It will probably be around 18 Episodes, maybe if we are lucky, they will get to do 20, but a full 22 Episode Season is rather unlikely to happen.

 Superman & Lois:

„Superman & Lois“ will return in 2022. The Second Season will feature Natalie Irons played by Taylor Buck as a member of the Main Cast. Sofia Hasmik was also promoted to the Main Cast. Tal-Rho will still be part of the show, however I am not too sure about him still being part of the Main Cast in Season 2. However both he and Leslie Larr will figure into the season.

The main villain won’t be Kryptonian this year. We will learn Tegan Wickhem’s backround (and which Flash Villain she is related to, I hope), Jordan will have to decide if he tells Sarah about his secret or not, and might not agree with his parent on that matter. John Henry will get to parent again, while Intergang and Killgrave will get new allies.

David Ramsey will be directing Episode 2 of this season, but this does not mean that John Diggle will return to the show. Given that this is „Superman & Lois“, even if he is going to guest-star this season, he won’t do that in Episode 2, but rather a couple of episodes later, when he is finished with the directorial stuff.

The Director’s Guilt Date does indicated that Season 2 is aiming for 13-16 Episode Season again. The only just started filming and plan to wrap in April, and there will be a Christmas Break, and thanks to Covid most seasons will be shorter this year again anyways. The CW might of course extend their Episode Order again, but keep in mind that if they do that, they have the problem of having to start shooting Season 3 later again, so the show might settle for 15 Episode Seasons as their normal lenght in the end.

And while it is not confirmed that there will be a third season, it is very likely that the network will order one.

They are probably planning to have „Superman & Lois“ replace „Batwoman“ or „Legends“ in early 2022, but it will be months before we will know the exact start-date.

There will be a panel at DC-Fandome, hopefully we will get some sort of trailer with footage from the first couple of episodes and some information what the season is actually going to be about then, but for now this is sadly all we know about Season 2.

 I am still not covering „Stargirl“ as it hasn’t crossed over with the Arrowverse yet and I am alos not doing „Naomi“ because it won’t be an Arrowverse-Show. So that was it for this one.

[seriouslyhooked]

Feels Like This (Part 3)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So thank you so much first and foremost for the love you guys have shown this fic. I have been so excited to write this and have been waiting ages to share it all with you. This is the kind of fluff and cuteness I personally need in my life right now, and I know a lot of you probably feel the same. Strap in for my usual dose of CS feels, and yes, for those of you asking, this is the moment CS will meet. Hope you all enjoy and thank you all so much for reading!

“And you’re sure you’ve got everything?” Emma asked, looking at Henry and knowing that he was ready to head into camp. They’d been over this numerous times, and at this point they were already out of the house and in front of the hall where campers congregated every morning. Still, Emma couldn’t help trying to soak up the moment with her kid just a little bit longer, and if that meant running through their list once more, so be it. “You have your lunch?”

“They give us lunch there, Mom.”

“Oh right,” she said, still shocked at how much was provided seeing as this program was free through the University. The children of all faculty and students were allowed to come, and it completely eradicated a need for her to find alternative childcare. Back in the States they had nothing like this built in anywhere. Getting Henry to camp previously either took a funding miracle, an insane amount of luck, or extra shifts at a second job. Usually he stayed with Mrs. H and Emma tried desperately to make it up to their neighbor. But now community sponsored help was becoming a given way of life, and every kid in Montenarro, no matter their background, seemed to have at least one path to a bright and happy summer.

“You’ve got your bag? How about water?”

“Yes and yes. We ran through this already, remember? I told you everything I had while you made breakfast.”

Emma smiled, knowing he was right, as crazy as it sounded. It was wild to her that on a weekday she would have the time, the patience, and the extra bit of cash to afford the spread they ate together today.  They had eggs, fruit, bacon, oatmeal and there were fresh pastries if they wanted. It was like their special holiday brunch, which happened on Christmas or on one of their birthdays, but they’d had this or something similar every day for nearly two weeks. It might seem over the top, but between the later starting hours here in Montenarro, her reduced work schedule with a generous stipend, and the fairer prices at the markets, Emma finally felt like she could give her son what he deserved. For years they’d chowed down on discount cereal, and now, in an attempt to enjoy themselves and resemble their new neighbors, they were taking a slower, and far and away more luxurious approach.

“I remember, kid. So I’ll be back here at four, and if I’m a little late -,”

“I just hang out a while longer, I know,” Henry said, looking to the doorway. A grin appeared at his face as he spotted one of his new friends. The other young boy waved in their direction and Henry waved back, causing Emma’s heart to melt. Her son not only had friends here, he was thriving. He was so happy, and seeing him this way made her happy too. “You don’t have to rush, Mom. I know your work ends early now, but maybe you could do something just for yourself.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d rather stay later?” Emma asked, and Henry looked embarrassed for a moment before nodding.

“Not too much later, but Michael and Talia stay until five, and we’ve got this cool game going that we made up yesterday. It’s kind of hard to explain. But I can come home at four still. It’s okay, I’ll just -,”

“No, no, Henry, I am thrilled that you’re having a good time. I’ll be here at five.”

“Cool! Thanks, Mom!” Henry exclaimed, giving her a quick hug before heading for the door. “See you at five!”

She watched him get in safely, and the director of the camp who she’d met last week wished her a fond hello as she checked in Henry. Her greeting was pleasant and polite, and Emma knew if she had time the woman would talk her ear off about what it was like to be from America or the upcoming summer festivals. As it was though, Emma had to get going. She wasn’t late for work or anything, but she was eager to get there. Her work at the JR foundation was shaping up to be amazing. She was learning a lot, but she already felt like one of the team. Everyone who was there appreciated her, not just for working and helping out, but for her ideas. They were so responsive to suggestions, and always willing to try out any new concepts Emma had only really read about in books.

Their director, Marco, wasn’t like a normal boss. He didn’t hover or micromanage or come across as inaccessible. In fact, despite all the other calls on his time, Marco was with them all helping the kids and participating in their activities as much as he could. That leadership was so amazing in a space like this, and from everything Emma had experienced, the precedent he set was entirely reflective of the culture at large. Every person at the institute was determined to do right by these kids, and the children, despite the sad circumstances surrounding most of their lives, were doing so well and seemed so happy despite it all.

It was only a few city blocks from Henry’s camp to the center, but Emma let herself linger in the walk. She moved more slowly, matching the pace of the people around her, who never seemed to rush, and instead just enjoyed each day as it came. People were always smiling and laughing, and even the fighting was good natured. The streets were bustling but not full. They were cleaned regularly, maintaining the gorgeous cobblestone walks and the beautiful vintage architecture. It was warm here – a quintessential coastal retreat in the Mediterranean that she’d only ever imagined in her dreams or seen on travel TV. Everything considered, it was the opposite of New York, and despite having lived in the city she and Henry called home for more than ten years, Emma had to admit she didn’t miss it… at least not as much as she thought she would.

Don’t get too attached, Emma. This is temporary. Enjoy it while you can, but your real life is nothing like this.

The voice in her head was negative, but had a point, and Emma had no choice but to heed the advice. She would enjoy every bit of this she could, but she couldn’t get too comfortable, otherwise she’d miss this when they left. Even thinking of the heartbreak that may come if Henry continued to love it here so much left her reeling, but Emma carried on, pushing down that worry as she made her way past the institute’s front gates. It was important that she be in the right headspace when walking through these doors. The kids deserved her at 100%, and that was what she planned to be for them. Shaking off the worry from moments ago she moved inside, and as soon as she arrived, she was greeted by the sound of children running and laughing.

Some people might look at this place right now, apparently filled to the brim with kids who were wired and excitable now that it was officially summer and the school term was over, and think that this was chaos, but Emma knew better by now. Every child here ranging in age from six months to sixteen was attended to and accounted for. They had a large brood of kids, with sixty-seven at last count, and this was the biggest home under the JR foundation, though there were half a dozen more around the small country. Many children who were here would eventually be adopted, or would merge into part of a nationally funded fostering program, known for being one of the best systems in the world. In their last two years of school, older children went to special homes or foster placements designed just for them, to give them the attention and time they needed (instead of leaving them to the wayside for the sake of younger, needier children), and to prepare them for life outside of the system. Emma would eventually shadow a center that worked with those young adults, but for now, she was enjoying the hustle and bustle of the general group.

“Look, Char, it’s Emma!” one young boy named Thomas proclaimed to his little sister Charlotte from across the room, and in seconds every child had turned and was excitedly greeting her. Some of them came right up to hug her or give her a high five, but at the very least they all nodded in her direction and chirped out a fond hello.

“Good morning everyone,” Emma said, noticing the bags along the doorway and how the older kids were dressed in a uniform of navy colored shorts and florescent green shirts. “Did I miss something?” Emma asked aloud, not really to anyone in particular, but an answer came from one of the institute’s most trusted sources.

“Flora is taking the older children to the seaside today for a science lesson.”

The woman who filled Emma in was named Elsa, and despite the humidity in the air and the exuberance of the children all around them, she was totally put together and looked completely unstressed. Her hair was tied back in her usual braid, and her turquoise colored summer dress flowed in a way that looked poised for a summer catalogue. Elsa was effortless in an enviable way, but she was so kind and eager to be of help that Emma couldn’t begin to muster jealousy. In a short time Emma had begun to consider Elsa a friend, but though the two of them were roughly the same age, Emma was still a student and Elsa was a fully-fledged child psychologist who lived at the institute full time. She, and her sister Anna, who also worked at the institute, but as an activity’s coordinator, were two peas in a pod, but they’d done everything they could to include Emma and help her get her bearings in this new world.

“Lessons? In the summer?” Emma asked, not surprised that the institute was providing supplementary schooling year-round. She’d seen as much since starting here, but she was more taken aback at how excited these kids looked. Every child aged ten and older was gathered down here, no doubt waiting to fill the two institute vans out back. Still, how fun could a science lesson be?

“We use the term lessons lightly. For the rest of the morning the children will explore the tide pools at the national endowment’s shoreline about an hour north. There are some very unique ecosystems there, and so there is a whole lot to learn. But Flora will have them break for lunch and Anna takes over in the afternoon.”

“What’s she got in store for them?” Emma asked and Elsa shook her head.

“Well I can’t exactly say, as I’ve been sworn to secrecy.” Her smile grew at how silly that sounded, and she looked over her shoulder to check for Anna, but gave a little more when she saw that the coast was clear. “Let’s just say it’s going to be a jam-packed day that will go out with a blaze of glory.”

The emphasis Elsa used on the word ‘blaze’ made Emma think that there would likely be a beachside bonfire included, but before she could get confirmation, things started moving quickly. The older kids were summoned to the shuttles to go out for their day, and Emma meanwhile saw the clock and realized it was time for her to report to Marco’s office to get her assignment for the day. Moving through the playroom and the sunroom, which had the younger children and the babies respectively, she finally found her way and after knocking she walked into the brightly lit hub of all things here at the institute.

“Ah, good morning, Emma,” Marco said with a big smile, waving her in and gesturing that she should take a seat beside one of the other workers at the institute, Marie. Marie was Marco’s second in command, and though she never used the phase herself, the children had taken to calling her Nana. She had a maternal way about her, and every child seemed to love her as they might a favorite grandmother. “You’re here just in time. I’ve been talking with Marie and we think that today would be a perfect opportunity to try one of your intervention measures.”

“Really?” Emma asked, surprised, but excited at the thought. This would be the third that they had tried, and the last two had gone off without a hitch. “Which one?”

“The ‘Music Makes Me…’ one seems like a good choice. We have a few children who, to now, have been less responsive to our normal socializing measures. Their either shy or hurting, and we’re hoping to help them open up. Elsa’s our counselor on shift today and she’s eager to help oversee this. You’ll take the lead, but she’ll be there for any help you might need. We realize it’s a long-term project,” Marco said, looking down at a piece of paper to check his facts. “You wrote here three times a week for eight weeks. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir. Ideally. Positive identity work can start yielding results as soon as three weeks, but the Princeton Psychology Review did a study this winter that showed children’s habit forming reaches its peak effectiveness after the eight-week mark.”

“And this is one of the projects you modeled off of your own parenting experience, correct?” Marco asked as Emma nodded. Her throat grew tight at the genuine emotion behind this tactic, but this was a place with people she trusted not to judge her. As such, she shared what sparked the idea.

“When Henry first started school, he was one of the only kids that wasn’t in a two-parent household. Even the other single parents had some sort of family behind them, like grandparents, aunts and uncles, or other kids. I’m not exactly sure how long he struggled with being different in that way, he’s an independent kid and he kept his pain over that closed in, probably to spare me from being worried. But when his teachers gave me their assessment and told me what they thought was happening, I set something not dissimilar to this up. We tried painting and crafting to express his emotions, but the music seemed to help so much more.”

“It’s really remarkable, the way you’ve melded your experience with your son and your own past in with all of this cutting-edge research. It’s one of the many reasons we’re so thrilled you’re with us this year,” Marie said cheerfully and Emma warmed at the comment. Telling the story of her son’s pain at not having a father, however vague she had kept it, was hard, especially because Emma lay awake many nights wondering if he was missing something fundamental by not having a father. She wondered if it may hurt him in the long run. But she was reassured by the fact that she always did her best for Henry, and that her experience could help not just her son, but the children here who had no present parents at all.  

“Given that it’s rather late notice, do you think you can manage? We’ve got a window right now for a few hours. Elsa’s already selected the children who may need the intervention most. She kept it in the 5-8 age range as you suggested.”

Emma immediately assured them that she could pull this together, as the concept was not hard. Basically what this practice/exercise included was playing music that was grounded in emotion. Some that were happy, some more subdued, some fast, and some slow, and encouraging kids to do what they wanted when they heard that. For Henry he’d always loved to run around and dance at the fast-paced songs. Then the slower ones were always more interesting. Sometimes he picked up a favorite toy, drew a picture on the supplies she left out, or created his own little imaginary game. All the while, however, Emma’s job was to engage, support, and ask questions.

The questions always started mildly. What’s your favorite color today? (she’d learned early not to box her son into ultimate favorites). If you could have any snack in the world what would you choose? What animal makes the funniest sound? Then the questions would evolve. Her son, like many kids, was a vivid dreamer and Emma often asked about those night time visions. Sometimes they meant nothing but sometimes they told her a lot. She wanted to include that with these kids, but also include more focused questions to them about how they felt here at the institute, what they felt like when they told people from the outside about living here, and what they dreamed of for the future. She’d always ended each session with Henry in two parts. The first was to ask Henry what his biggest wish was for someone else, and the second was to ask his biggest wish for himself. Kids at his age were filled with wishes and wants, but Emma knew from personal experience, that that may already be flickering away in kids without parents. She’d been seven years old when her hope truly started to fade away, and she believed if she’d had these kind of positive affirmations and people who were working to see her happy and well situated, her relationship with the world and herself would have been much easier.

In the end, Marco, Marie, and Elsa decided that there were five best candidates for today’s intervention. Stella and Timothy were a biological brother and sister who had been at the institute for about a year. They were eight and six, and both of them were doing pretty well despite their parents losing custody of them from continued problems with substance abuse. They were likely moving into a fostering situation by the end of the summer, but they had been here a bit longer than normal because they were bonded together and making that accommodation took patience and the right placement. According to Elsa, Stella’s teachers a few times had mentioned her shyness, especially when people brought up her home life. Malek was a seven-year-old boy from a similar situation, though his father was in the process of getting clean for his son. The institute was always cautious for replacement with parents who struggled, but if his father could demonstrate stability and stay clean a full year, the legal system would grant him custody again. Malek, understandably, had mixed feelings about going back, and Emma wanted to try and help him with those through this process. Carlos, meanwhile, was a rambunctious six-year-old who had been given up at birth. He was shaped by his status as an orphan, and had a few close adoption calls that ultimately fell through. Luckily, though, a new family with sincere interest and the means to take care of him was stepping up, and they had exactly eight weeks before the system would process their filing for adoption, a perfect amount of time to help Carlos with some of these image issues before he settled into his new home.

The final child in Emma’s care today, however, was Cecilia, or as the other children called her, ‘CeeCee.’ Cecelia was a newcomer to the institute, and at just barely five years old, she was the youngest in Emma’s group today. She was quiet and withdrawn, but given her background that was all to be expected. At such a young age Cecelia had already been through so much. When she was two her parents had tragically passed in a car accident, and she’d moved in with her grandmother. Her grandmother was loving and did everything she could for her, but she was in poor health, and was now in need of care herself. Emma wasn’t here on the day that Cecelia came to the foundation, but Elsa had mentioned it with tears in her eyes a few days prior.

“I’ve seen so much heartbreak in this job, but watching that little girl realize she was being left behind… It was awful. She cried so quietly and for so long. It took us weeks to get her to say anything at all.”

Even now Cecelia was always quiet. She’d blended in a bit more with the other children, but she wasn’t particularly bonded to any of them. She had grown to be more trusting of the adults, but not in a really promising way. With Emma she’d always been sweet and well-tempered, but Emma hoped that this process might help her, and might get her to a place where she could be better socialized and cared for.  The next few hours proved to be even more promising than Emma dared to hope. All five children not only had fun, but made good steps towards progress. They all confided a little bit in Emma and Elsa, and they all responded well to the method. When Emma asked them if they’d like to do this again in a few days, all five of them were thrilled, and little Cecelia, who was normally so shy, was the biggest shock of all. Over the course of the few hours she’d opened up so much to Emma, and by the end of the session she was holding Emma’s hand tightly, intent on going with her through her day. Emma was so happy to see this little girl doing so much better, and she had to admit she was invested in this child, perhaps more than any other she’d met so far at the institute.

“Do you think it’s all right?” Emma asked, motioning downwards, but not saying everything aloud. The last thing she wanted was for Cecelia to not feel wanted when she’d made such tremendous progress, but she was worried about what might happen if she grew too attached.

“This happens sometimes. Kids have a sense for safe spaces. She was already responding really well to you before,” Elsa said, crouching down and waving at Cecelia, sharing a soft compliment for the toy rabbit she was carrying with her today, which made the little girl smile and chirp out a gentle ‘Thank You.’ Even that little show of gratitude and the genuine smile was an improvement, and Emma felt a burst of pride seeing this young girl come out of her shell. “We’ll keep an eye on it, but I think it’s best to see where it goes. She’s showing no signs of dependency, and hopefully you’ll be the perfect gateway for her to let the rest of us in.”

Emma hoped that Elsa was right, and as everyone in the center gathered for lunch, Cecelia stayed close by. Emma did her best to stay attentive to all of the kids who choose to eat with her today, but she also wanted to lead this lost little girl towards others who may be her friends. She was making good progress with another five-year-old named Ava, who was eager to be friendlier with Cecelia, when Marie approached, appearing frazzled and a little shaken.

“Is everything all right?” Emma asked, careful to keep her words calm and her tone even so as not to scare the kids. Her instincts were that something bad must be happening, but Marie shook her head, quickly dispelling her of that notion.

“Everything is wonderful, dear. We just have an unexpected visitor – actually I guess visitor is the wrong word. He’ll be staying on here for a while to work with us all. It’s a bit unexpected, but I dare say it’ll prove a delight in the end, for us and for the children.”

“Who is it that’s coming?” Emma asked, and Marie looked poised to blurt something out, but then caught herself and weighed her words carefully.

“One of the members of the family who run the foundation.”

Emma now began to understand the sudden rise in stress. Whatever JR stood for, and whichever family it was that could afford to spend so much on these resources, they must be both terribly rich and powerful. Being so new here, Emma didn’t know any background about the endowment, but she hoped that whoever was coming would be a help and not a hindrance. Surely they’d come here and see how much good work was being accomplished. She hated to think they’d be coming to make cuts or roll back funding.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Emma asked and Marie shook her head.

“Oh no dear. You’re doing a wonderful job. This isn’t an assessment of any kind. I believe it’s a genuine act of charity. You see he’s been in the military, and now he’s come home. His family’s no doubt pushing him towards some kind of occupation, and he’s chosen this as his pursuit.”

Emma wanted to ask more, about if this mystery man had any experience with kids or why, even if he was so very rich, Marie displayed school-girlish enthusiasm at his coming, but the older woman moved on to handle something else. Instead Emma waved Elsa over and asked her if she knew the man who was coming.

“Of course I do, everyone knows him,” Elsa said, thoroughly adamant that this stranger was of some notoriety. Then her features softened and she took on a thoughtful expression. “Well I suppose we know of him. We’ve never met, you see. But it’s impossible not to know him.”

Emma nodded, but she was still somewhat surprised. To this point she hadn’t gathered a sense that the family who ran the endowment was exceedingly involved in the day to day of the center. But then again, Elsa had been here far longer than her, and so she probably needed to keep track of the important players who were their most generous donors. Emma could have remained hung up on the strangeness of it all, but instead her mind wandered to the few details she did know. He was a military man, newly home, and he was coming here to make a difference. She thought about that and what that meant, and she found that she already liked him, or at least his attitude. Serving in the armed forces meant a life of service – to come home from that and still want to help others was admirable, and she hoped it would provide a good role model for the children, no matter what his actual child life background might be.

From the window in the great hall where all of the children and staff took their meals, they could all see down the back drive where a second entrance to the center was located. At that moment three black SUVs began their ascent, and the children’s attention immediately perked up as they ran to the windows. Emma felt the growing anticipation at the new arrival, and she wondered why there would need to be three SUVs. It reminded her of the protective details that sometimes came in the city, when big time politicians made their way to city hall where she worked for some sort of meeting or photo op. But what would be the reason for such a display today? Why would anyone need one of those when coming to a children’s center? It was hard to grasp, but then she questioned her instinct. The men who exited from the vehicles weren’t in high profile suits. They were more casually dressed, just like any workers here at the center. She wasn’t able to see all of them, but soon enough there were voices in the hall. Marco and Marie greeted the newcomer, and Emma only caught a snippet of the conversation.

“We’re thrilled to have you here, Sir.”

“Killian, please.”

“Killian. Right, sorry. That may take getting used to.”

“Not a problem. We have time.”

Emma was caught up in the sound of the new voice. It was distant, but even from here she felt an impact at the gravel in the tone and the lilt of the accent. It washed over her, sparking a sizzling sensation that was foreign to her, and after weeks in this country she’d always found the accent pleasing, but never responded like this. She found herself wanting to know what this man looked like, to see what kind of appearance could go with a voice that enticing, but she was getting ahead of herself. What did it matter what he looked like? He was going to be a coworker, right? This was hardly the time or place to be interested in someone. Still her stomach swooped with the tell-tale flutter of butterflies and she shifted in her seat. The action, along with the new voice in the hall, sparked something in Cecelia to change from comfortable to tense. The young girl grabbed at Emma’s shirt, latching on for a sense of perceived safety. Emma’s heart reached out to this poor, sweet girl, and she took her hand gently, trying to assure her as swiftly as she could.

“It’s all right, honey. You’re safe here. I promise.”

“I don’t like strangers,” Cecelia said and Emma tried not to get misty eyed at the sense of uncertainty this little girl held so tight.

“I was a stranger once, wasn’t I?” Emma asked and Cecelia considered that before nodding. 

“But you’re nice to me. You read us stories and play us music. You’re my most favorite friend.”

“And you are my friend too, honey. So let’s wait and see what kind of person he is before we decide if we like him, okay? You never know – he could be your favorite too.”

Cecelia looked skeptical but ultimately agreed, and Emma was glad to have that sorted. She had been so focused on curtailing Cecelia’s worry that she forgot where they were. Now she noticed everyone else was standing, children and staff alike, so she helped Cecelia down from her seat and stood up herself. The sounds of people walking in played out around her, but Emma took a moment to make sure her young charge was settled before looking back up. She patted Cecelia’s hair and brushed her full brown curls from her face, with care. Only then did she look up. But when she did, she never could have expected what would happen. 

As her eyes took in the stranger, their gazes met, and she was struck by a sense of recognition and realization that she’d never felt before. Something clicked for her in that moment, in the first few seconds of their seeing each other, and her awareness grew stronger and stronger. So much bubbled up to the surface, emotions and feelings and desire and interest. It was like something was opened within her, and she felt drawn into this man and unable to resist. This stranger had blue eyes, intense but warm all at once, piercing in a way that they seemed like she knew them and they knew her. Instinctively she looked to the rest of him - Killian he said his name was - but it didn’t help her sense of disorientation. His face was remarkable, strong and sure. His hair was dark, and his figure was no doubt honed for the expectations of his years of military service. She felt herself taking him all in, and then caught herself and thought about what a scene she was making. This wasn’t appropriate. Oggling this man just because he was hot – okay more than hot, he was… god was it lame to say perfect – oh Christ she was doing it again. She needed to stop, but when she looked up at him, she caught him doing the same thing to her. It was incredible to feel his interest, and for a moment it was like the world stopped spinning so the two of them could find each other. 

Find each other? Jesus, Emma, get a grip. The thought ran through her head as Marco began to address them all.

“Everyone, this is our newest friend here at the institute, Killian.”

“You’re big,” a boy named Seamus called out, unceremoniously and for a beat Marco and Marie looked concerned, but Killian only laughed.

“You should see my brother.”

“Is he coming too?” Marie asked, looking like she might actually be done in by the news.

“No, ma’am,” Killian said with a small smile and Marie let out a sigh of relief. What was that about?

“Why do you stand so straight?” another boy asked and Killian explained.

“I was in the royal navy.” This was met by a chorus of oohs and aahs, from the girls and boys alike.

“Are you a good person?” someone asked, and only after a moment did Emma realize it was Cecelia. She was shocked at the display of bravery from her little companion, but then that was compounded by Killian’s movement towards them. He split his looks between Cecelia and her, but when he approached he crouched down so as to be eye level with the little girl.

“What’s your name, little one?”

“Cecelia.”

“Cecelia. That’s a beautiful name,” he said honestly and Cecelia swayed side to side a bit with the compliment. “Now as for your question, I certainly try to be good.”

“But you’re a stranger,” Cecelia said, looking at him with a furrowed brow, as if this was some kind of simple math he should understand.

“For now I am. But not forever, I hope.”

“My Emma was a stranger too. She’s a good person. Are you like my Emma?”

Now Killian rose to full height and he addressed Emma as much as he did Cecelia. “I do like her.” Emma’s heart skipped and then she watched his face shift in embarrassment as he realized what he said. “I mean I hope I’m like her, lass. But only time will tell.”

“Miss Emma, does time talk?” Cecelia asked and Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing as her eyes caught Killian’s again.

“No, honey. It’s an expression. It means that with a little bit of time you will know if he’s a good person. You just have to be patient.”

The look Killian gave her in that moment was packed with so much. Gratitude, interest, and something more. There was a charge between them that she just couldn’t deny, and she could tell he felt it too. But before he could say anymore, Marco called everyone’s attention again.

“Anyone have any ideas as to how we should welcome Killian?” he asked and a chorus of answers came flooding in.

“I know! I know! We should show him our giving tree.”

“No! We should show him our playground!”

“I want to show him my pirate ship!”

“We should feed him the turnovers Cook makes. She hides them in a secret spot but I know where they are!”

“Well that all sounds brilliant, especially the turnovers. Why don’t we do all of it?” Killian asked, before looking to Marco who nodded readily. The kids looked excited, and were eager to go, but before things got too crazy, Killian looked back at Emma and grinned.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Emma.”

And with that, and with so much swag and sexiness it made her a little dizzy, this mysterious new man set off, throwing himself into the deep end with these kids, and showing them all that he could hold as own, just as surely as he could hold her attention.

Post-Note: So there we have it! I know, I know, you’re probably mad I kept their meeting so short and waited until the very end, but next chapter I am planning to include this first meeting from Killian’s POV. This story, as much as any of my stories can, has a bit of a slower build, because there are a lot of elements I really want to include, but I promise there’s plenty of fluff in store and a lot of cuteness that yet to come. Thank you all so much for reading, and I really hope you’ll leave a comment or a review. I’d love to see what you all think and what you’d like to see going forward in this new fic. Anyway, I will do my best to update soon (probably next weekend), but in the meantime I hope you’re all well, safe, and happy in this uncertain time!

[cal-puddies]

meet fletch || pt. 8 || ashton irwin

meet fletch || pt 1 || pt 2 || pt 3 || pt 4 || pt 5 || pt 6 || pt 7

“You three look so handsome.” You say, admiring Cal, Ash and Fletch in their suits for Ashton’s upcoming wedding. 

It’s been a busy two years. Ash and Kay Kay broke up pretty soon after you and Fletch moved to LA. Ashton met Emma on a soul searching trip to Nashville and he instantly liked her. 

He talked her into moving to LA after 6 months and then proposed a year later. She was a great partner for you and Ash to have with Fletch and she was great with him, she also became one of your best friends. 

“We clean up.” Cal laughs.

“Alright. I’ve gotta get to the dress fitting. Fletch are you staying at Dad’s tonight or with Cal and I?” You ask, fixing his tie. 10 year old Fletcher was the spitting image of his father at that age, except he wore his natural curls instead of spiking it straight like Ash had done. 

“I’m gonna stay with dad, if that’s ok?” He checks. 

“Fine by me.” You look to Ash and he nods. “Let me know if we need to pack anything for you.” 

You were leaving for Nashville for the week the next morning. Emma was insistent she get married in her hometown and Ashton was gonna give her anything she wanted. 

You and Cal had bought a house after about a year and a half together, putting the two of you at about 3 years now. 

His ‘I love you’ slipped out while you were visiting them on their writing trip and you guys got drunk together. You knew Cal uttering those words was important. And you said it back. 

“I will.” Fletch smiles, “love you mom.” 

“Love you too bub, be good for Cal and Dad.” You warn and kiss his head. You lean over and kiss Ash on the cheek and Cal pulls you into a full on kiss and murmurs “love you” before letting you go for your own fitting. 

You head for the door and Cal turns to Ash and Fletch. “I have to talk to you guys about something and Ash I’m sorry I don’t want it to take away from you and your day.” He sighs, “but I wanna do it soon. I promise it won’t affect your wedding. I want to propose. Fletch you are an awesome kid and I love your mom so much, it’d mean the world if you were cool with it.” Cal appeals to Fletch. 

“Of course Cal; id love for you to be my pops.” Fletch hugs him. 

“Don’t call him Pops, it’s disrespectful.” Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“If he wants to call me pops, let him.” Cal laughs. “Ash?” 

“Of course, couldn’t think of anyone better to have be apart of this,” Ash hugs him next, “you’re incredible Cal, you know I think that of you. And you make her happy and you’re good to Fletch. I love this.” 

And that was that. 

Fletch thrived with two men of influence in his life, and it was a lot easier to be partners than enemies when it came to being a parent so having Ash and Emma on board with all decisions made it that much easier to co-parent. 

Cal comes home to you at the kitchen island with a glass of wine. “Whatcha got there?” He asks, filling the glass you’d left out for him. 

“Ash’s wedding gift.” You say, holding it up to show him the amended birth certificate with Ashton Irwin listed as the father, and the legal documents to officially change Fletch’s last name to his. 

Not a single soul questioned whether or not fletch was Ashton’s when he’d finally gotten to tell about 6 months before he met Emma. He was right and it had completely rocked you and Fletcher’s worlds to now have that much attention when you did anything normal, but you worked through it. 

“He’s gonna love that.” Cal says, wrapping an arm around the front of your shoulders and pushing his lips to your head. 

“Well, it’s about time,” you murmur. “Did y’all have a nice afternoon?” You ask. 

“Oh no! Emma is getting to you! ‘Y’all’,” he mocks. “Yes we did.” 

You chuckle and kiss his forearm. “What do you think, trash tv and packing?” You ask, turning to him. 

“I was hoping to get you naked.” He pouts. 

“Maybe after we pack?” You kiss his stuck out lip, “or, no fletch so we can just see what happens.” You shrug, grabbing the bottle and heading toward the bedroom. 

But Cal’s better than that and you’re naked with your fingers in his hair before the suitcases even came out. 

Emma grins wide when you and Cal meet the three of them at the airport. You were flying private, so it was a little easier than normal to fly. She gives you a big hug and then steals Cal away. 

“Um, the boys told me you were gonna propose and you thought you could keep it from me?!” She asks him, making sure you were out of ear shot. 

“I wasn’t trying to keep it from you, I needed to make sure that Fletch was on board and Ash too, and then I didn’t want it to be over your wedding either…” he explains, shrugging. 

“Hood, are you kidding me! This is incredible news! I want to hear all about what you have planned.” 

“Nothing yet. I’ll know the time is right.” He admits. “I don’t think she needs the grand gesture.” 

“More than that, she wouldn’t want it.” Emma smiles at him, “it warms my heart that you know her so well.” 

He rolls his eyes and feels your arm slip around his waist. “Hey my love.” He murmurs. 

It was just the five of you, Mike and Crystal coming a couple days later and Luke and Sierra were already there. 

“Emma! Do you think Mason will be there?” Fletch asks, referring to her nephew who was the same age. 

“He will be!” She confirms, “which reminds me, my sister offered to watch Fletch for the week, so he can stay with Mason if we’re all ok with that.”

“Liz is crazy if she wants both of them.” You laugh. 

“You and Cal handled it when they came to visit.” Emma points out. 

“I still don’t know how.” You laugh. 

You and Cal get dropped at your Air bnb, which is on the same block as the house Ashton and Emma bought in Nashville. They take Fletch since Mason and Liz are picking him up from their place. “I like the idea of us being alone all week.” You smirk. 

“You ever get enough of me?” Cal smirks. 

“No, thank god for it too.” You laugh. 

“Yeah… I like you naked and begging for me.” He admits. 

“Usually the other way around, isn’t it?” You laugh. 

“In your dreams bubba.” He chuckles, pulling your in for a kiss. 

You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and murmur “only in my best, dirtiest dreams.” You chuckle. 

“I’m willing to dedicate time to explorin’ those.” He murmurs back, pulling your hips against his and leaning you back. Your arms wrap around his neck. 

“I let you... when you bring them up.” You bite his plump bottom lip and pull it between your teeth. 

“I’ll never understand how you absolutely trust me with the living human that’s the most important to you in the entire world, but you won’t trust me with a little wet dream.” He pecks your lips and lets you go, sitting on the bed. 

“Well when you put it that way.” You laugh, closing the space between you two to straddle him. 

Cal grins at you, his hands slowly move up your thighs, and then they are on your ass. He squeezes. He’s found out, on no admission of your own, that squeezing, spanking or rubbing on your ass were always a definite yes for you. You loved it. You rest your head on his shoulder and nuzzle your nose against his neck. 

His lips trail up your neck to just beside your ear. “I wanna taste you, and then I wanna rail you.” He admits, nibbling your earlobe. You let out a little whimper and it’s all the assurance Cal needs that you want it too. 

The next thing you know, you’re sprawled on the bed Cal’s strong arms are wrapped around your thighs and you are moaning obscenely with fingers curled into his hair, heals pressed to his back. 

“Love when you’re loud,” he murmurs. “Know you’re close… let it go.” He coaxes. 

“Cal!” You whine, as his tongue teases your clit a little. “Holy fuck… want you to fuck me from behind.” 

“I will. I want to so bad baby… but you gotta cum.” He demands. His thumbs pull your lips apart and his tongue lightly teases your clit until you give him what he wants. Pulling his hair and moaning out his name. “There it is. Thank you,” He grins, releasing your thighs and kissing up your belly to your mouth. Your hands push into his boxer briefs and slowly start to jerk him. “My favorite girl.” He grins into another kiss. “You work me so well.” 

“Better be your only girl at this point Hood.” You chuckle, giving his cock an extra tight squeeze, then pushing his underwear off his hips. 

“When would I have time for another girl?” He chuckles, kissing you again quick before grabbing your hips and flipping you over. 

“Valid point. I do keep you pretty busy.” You wink over your shoulder at him. 

“And so very satisfied.” He confirms, kissing your shoulder. You push your hips up, getting your ass in the air and Cal settles on his knees behind you, he runs his hands over your ass and the back of your thighs before lining up. “Ready?” He asks. 

“Very.” You nod. Cal pushes in and is met with a moan from you. “fuck… I love you.” You look over your shoulder at him. 

Cal chuckles, “I love you too… but hopefully that’s not just for my cock.” 

“I’ll admit, it’s a nice, big, added bonus.” You smirk and it’s met with another chuckle. He smacks your ass and it’s met with whimpers. 

In the thick of it, Cal’s phone rings and he loses his rhythm a bit.. “wait babe…” he says. 

“Calum… you are literally balls deep with two fingers in my ass… if you go answer that phone you will regret it.” You warn. 

“Fair enough. I can call back.” He admits. His final few thrusts a few minutes later are hard and push you forward, pushing your face into the pillows as you moan for him and squeeze around his cock. He holds your hips and pushes his hard against yours. He collapses on top of you and presses kisses all over your shoulders and neck while you both catch your breath. “I love how hard you cum when you let me finger you ass.” 

“I love that you didn’t get freaked out when I said I wanted to try it.” You admit, laughing. You reach back and splay your fingers in his hair. “Also love you on top of me when we finish. It feels so personal.” You whisper. 

“It’s very personal.” He agrees. “I just need to be close to you.” He sighs, “but I’m open to anything baby, so you ever have one of those fantasies you wanna try. Just let me know.” He kisses your cheek and rolls off of you onto his back beside you, pulling you in close, smoothing your hair on your head. 

Your phone buzzes on the bedside table and Cal grabs both, holding yours up first. “What is it?” You ask. 

“Ash and Em wanna take us to dinner tonight.” 

“Why?” You whine. “Fine… s’pose we gotta eat sometime.” 

“We don’t have to babe. We can order in or go out and grab something ourselves.” He laughs. 

“It’s fine. Let’s just do it.” You groan. 

“Mmkay… he said they’d be here at 530. We should shower.” Cal says softly. 

There wasn’t an inch of your body you didn’t want Calum to know or touch, so he was comfortable helping you clean out any lingering cum, and making sure he got the lube cleaned from your ass. 

And then you were half dressed and putting on makeup, Cal’s next to you trying to do something with his hair. “Would you have wanted to meet me earlier, before ash?” You ask, blending out some eye shadow. 

“I never would have been ready for you earlier than when I met you. Not mature enough to understand Fletch’s role in your life, or the One Ash would come to have. Even if it was before Ash, I never would have been able to keep you.” He admits. 

You stop what you're doing a minute and look over at him, smiling. “I love you. I don’t know what I expected you to say to that, but that wasn’t it and it was perfect.” 

He stops fussing with his hair and grabs your hips to turn you to face him. “Here’s what I do know: if everything stopped tomorrow… if I couldn’t do music, if I had you and fletch, that’d be enough. It’d be more than enough.”

You make a big pouty face at him and he kisses your bottom lip, “we have 15 minutes, I’m gonna need you to find a shirt.” 

“Let’s stay in and go round two.” You quirk an eyebrow. 

“No… we already said we’d go… I’d love nothing more than to give you hours and hours exploring our dirty minds. But it’s important for us to celebrate them this week.” Cal insists. 

“I know.” You push against him and cal kisses your head. 

He gently drums on your butt, “let’s move it little lady.” You quickly finish your makeup and pull a shirt on, and a pair of heels. Cal grabs your leather jacket as you put things in your bag. “You ready baby cakes?” 

“Yeah. You look handsome.” You say, giving him a once over. 

“Gotta look my best to stand next to you.” He chuckles, holding your jacket out for you to put on. You slip it on and lean up to kiss him, and then Ash and Emma are there. 

Dinner is uneventful. But Cal buys a round of shots. And then Ash does, and then you’re moving onto another bar, and Luke and Sierra join you. And before you know it, you’re tipsy, but so is everyone else. You’re sipping your drink and you look at Ashton who’s seated next to you. “I wanna tell you something.” 

“What is it?” He asks, his tipsy energy matches yours. 

“I wanna marry Cal.” You giggle. 

“Wait!” Luke turns to you, “did you just say?” 

“Luke stop eavesdropping!” You hit his shoulder. “It’s a secret.” 

“I won’t say a word.” He promises. 

But ash is staring at you with a big grin on his face, and he pulls you into a hug. “Yes I love this. I support it… I honestly thought you’d never get there.” 

“We’ll revisit, but I’m happy you’re into it.” You smile. Ash kisses your forehead and then Cal’s back. 

“Baby cakes, how ya feelin?” He checks. 

“I love you. I’m very happy right now.” You say, smiling at him. 

“I love you too. You wanna go home with me?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You nod. Cal holds out his hands and pulls you to your feet. 

“Boo! The party is leaving!” Luke calls. 

“Guys we have the bachelor and bachelorette parties tomorrow. No one needs to get smashed tonight.” Cal reminds the group. 

“Fuck. You’re right.” Ash groans.”ok ok… let’s get an uber. We can come back for the car tomorrow.”

And then you’re home but you’re still in a Cal bliss you can’t quite describe. You’re in his shirt and you’re both having another drink and your hands are always on him, he’s noticed. 

“What’s up?” He asks. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, knotting your fingers into his shirt as you sit on the couch, the tv on. 

“You just… I’m not mad… but you’ve been attached to me all night.” 

You think about it a minute. “I dunno Cal… I just feel really in love with you and I feel like I need to be close and touching you.” Your eyebrows knit together. “I dunno why.” 

“That’s ok. Be as close as you want.” He nods, kissing the top of your head. “What do you want for your future?” He asks. 

“You.” It’s the only answer you have for him. 

Cal looks at you and blinks. “Grab this blanket. Go out back. I’ll be there in a minute.” He says. You do as he asks, but you don’t like it. 

He’s quick and he’s out back with you. He grabs the blanket and holds it around the both of you. “I’ve kinda had this thing on my mind lately… and I wanted to wait… but I already talked to Fletch and Ash about it…” 

“I want to get married.” You blurt out. “To you.” You make it clear. 

“I’m literally proposing to you right now!” Cal says, exasperated. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I wanted to say it. I wanted you to know that I feel it too. And that you’re what I look for in my future.” You shrug. 

“Baby.” He coos. “Me and you and fletch. Forever. That’s what you want?” 

“Yeah… yes.” You nod. “Wait! Do you want more kids?” You ask. 

“With you, yes.” He nods. 

“Ok yes!” You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying not to cry. Cal slips the ring on your finger, he knows you didn’t care about the ring. It was the gesture. You didn’t bother looking at it and immediately press yourself into him. 

The next few days are a blur, half from alcohol and half from all the goings on of the wedding. It was hard, you wanted to be exclusively intertwined with Calum, but you both had wedding duties to attend to that took you to opposite schedules. Only passing when you collapsed together on the couch after a long day. 

“I miss Fletch.” You admit. 

“Has he called you?” Calum asks. 

“Yeah… I still just miss him. He’s my baby.” You shrug. 

“I know. I was just making sure because he’s called me a couple times.” Cal admits. 

“We should call him and tell him about the engagement?” You ask. 

“Yes. I haven’t told him. Didn’t want to take that away from you. And I haven’t mentioned it to Ash 

either.” 

“It’s your news to share too.” You shrug. 

“Not to them. My family yes… but not those two people. Emma is gonna be so stoked too.” He chuckles. 

“I don’t wanna take away from their day.” You admit. 

“Speaking of, were gonna have long days with the wedding tomorrow.” He mentions. 

You let out a sigh and grab your phone, FaceTiming Fletch. He answers quickly, “did you say yes?” He asks. 

You chuckle and hold up your hand, showing the ring, Cal beaming in the background. “She did.” 

“Wanted you to hear it from both of us.” You smile. 

“Good. Thank you. I’m so excited.” Fletch grins and you again see so much of Ash in him. 

“I got lucky with you, kid.” You admit. 

“Love you mom, Cal.” He grins. 

“Love you.” You both say, “goodnight.” 

The next day is stressful, but you forget about it as Emma hands you a mimosa and a breakfast sandwich as someone twists your hair up the way she wanted it. “You have news for me.” She says, not asking. 

“Cal proposed.” You say quietly, so none of the other bridesmaids you didn’t know that well could hear. She holds her hand out and you quickly twist the ring. “I’ll take it off for the wedding.” You promise. 

“You won’t!” She insists. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you two. How did he do it?” 

“I cut him off and did it first…” you admit, scrunching your nose. “I’ve just been really feeling it this week. So so in love and being around all the wedding stuff and seeing you and ash.” You explain. “We were just on the deck after we went out the other night.” 

“It’s perfect for you guys. So natural.” She grins. 

And then it’s late in the afternoon, everyone is dressed and you slip out with the papers for Ash. You find the room the guys are in, and Luke opens the door, he grins wide and pulls you into a hug, whispering a ‘congrats’. 

“Hey.” Ash says, looking at you, “what are you doing here?” 

“Uhm. Fletch and I have something for you and we wanted to give it to you early, so it didn’t get lost in the shuffle.” You explain, stopping in front of him. Fletch comes to stand next to you and Cal walks back in at that moment.

You hand the Manila envelope to Ash and he pulls it open. On top is the birth certificate. “You didn’t…?” He asks in shock. 

“It was time.” you nod.

And he flips to the next page and you and fletch watch him read it. “Wait, fletch is taking my last name?” He asks. 

“Yeah, it was his idea.” You nod. 

Ash covers his eyes with his free hand. “I wasn’t planning on crying yet.” He admits. “Thank you guys.” He pulls you and fletch into him. “I love you both so much.” He admits. “This… I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” He admits. 

“Glad you like it.” You grin, pulling back and letting Ash hug his son. 

Cal rests his hand on your back and you look at him, “you look gorgeous.” He whispers. 

“Thank you.” You grin. 

“Let me see.” Ash says, pulling your attention from Cal. You look at him, confused a moment and then he insists “the ring.” You pass over your hand, “incredible job Cal. It’s perfect.” He admits. 

“Thank you.” Cal grins.

“I love this. This day is perfect. My son has my last name, my name is on his birth certificate, my best friend has proposed to a wonderful woman, I’m marrying the woman of my dreams with all of the amazing people I love.” Ash sighs. 

“Ok. I’ve gotta get back. I just wanted you to have this before all the madness.” 

Ash and Emma both make sure there are plenty of pictures of the 5 of you and then you and fletch with ash and also Calum while you’re getting the pictures. 

And then, the party starts. And while you’re trying to stay present in the celebration, you’re living in your love for Cal, your appreciation for the man he’s always been to you, for his never ending patience while you figure things out with Ash, and him being included in fletch decisions. None of it was easy, but he handled it all so well. 

“Come dance with me.” Cal says, approaching you. He holds his hand out and you grab it, and he pulls you and spins you into him, a thing he’s always kind of done for you. 

He keeps you close, he can tell you’re in your head. “Love you.” You murmur. 

“I know.” He kisses your forehead. “I didn’t expect you to have this kind of reaction to Ash getting married.” 

“What reaction is that?” You question. 

“In your head and so totally in love like you are.” 

“I dunno Cal. I dunno what it is. But everything right now…” 

“You don’t need to say it, my love. I know.” He nods. 

The song switches and it’s slower, cal pulls you closer, but Fletch taps on his shoulder. “Hey cal, can I dance with my mom?”

Taglist: @cocktail-calum @1dthewantedlove @september09241994 @youngblood199456 @lustingforwunder @calumsphile @neso-k @rosecoloredash @radmcqueen @justayoungandwisefangirl @itsnotmyblood @slimthicccal @softboycal @lietoash @pushthetide21 @5sosfanficrec @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @therealmrshale

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masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

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