#me w a compromised immune system? probably

[snzysimper]

Could I perhaps gift you a very rough draft for a Hazbin Hotel sickfic? (I don't have a fetish for it, but I really like sickfics and I have too much anxiety to post my ideas to my blog a lot of the time, so someone may as well get to enjoy them!)

It'd be a chaos comedy with lots of sweet fluff, with an illness spreading around the Hotel and everyone's powers making it manifest differently (and the fluff would be them all, some of them begrudingly, taking care of one another)

Alastor gets the worst of it (because he's my favorite lol) with a very high fever w/some amusing delirium, deep mucusy coughs and sneezes (leaning in to his deer attributes idk how to best describe it but picture an exhausted deer panting), and vomiting

Sir Pentious is hacking up a lot of very toxic mucus, can't navigate since his since of smell is compromised, and he just cannot seem to get warm enough so he's having to be plied with blankets & hot water bottles (because he's such a drama queen that of course he has to be doted on), but also he's such a "gentleman" that he doesn't want to do anything uncouth in front of a lady so he's trying to hide all of his grosser symptoms until he almost chokes and/or runs into walls multiple times and Vaggie is finally just like "omfg stop" and helps him

Baxter is an unfortunate little snot machine, and borderline refuses to leave one of the restrooms because he just wants to soak in the tub and steam the sickness out with hot showers. At some point he'd probably end up overheating himself and have to get an ice bath.

Husk has tiny little kitten sneezes (which he's embarrassed about, Charlie finds them ADORABLE, which makes him even more embarrassed). He'd end up making hot toddies for everyone

Angel's sneezes shoot webs and he keeps getting stuck to things. I realize it's not accurate to spiders, I just think it would be funny.

Vox (because he's at the hotel now, he left Valentino and moved in, because I said so) and his monitor keeps leaking a black fluid, his body's overheating (as in he starts a few minor fires around the hotel), and his audio system is on the fritz so he keeps making weird "coughing" static and sneeze audio effects that blow out glass

Niffty goes into germaphobia mode and tries to clean even more than normal (causing a few dangerous chemical mixtures in the process) and trying to deny once she does get sick only to be forced to admit defeat when she falls off of a chandelier she was dusting in a dead faint.

Cherri Bomb (because she's also there too) apparently has uncontrollable pyrokinetic powers that illness sets off, she runs a high fever (with delirium, yes it's a favored trope of mine), and keeps blowing things up and setting them on fire when she sneezes, and her coughing results in thick clouds of infectious smoke.

Charlie ends up getting sick from taking care of everyone, but puts off resting and taking meds because she wants to make sure everyone else is ok first. She has to take some kind of insanely potent medicine because of her potential power and the medicine makes her kind of loopy. Angel dust tries to sneak a little bit thinking it's just cough syrup and it makes him start tripping balls.

Vaggie is the only one not to get sick because that way she'd have to be the one to deal with everyone else's crap (maybe constant exposure to angel weaponry provides her with immunity?)

Holy fucking shit I don’t check tumblr for a few days cos I’ve been in the middle of a forest with no service and come back to THIS??

I don’t think the human race can even COMPREHEND what this makes me feel- this is the best damn thing I’ve seen in a LONG time

✨ 1000000000/10 ✨

[blasphamoustraitors]

I leave the house for a couple of hours and now im mundane sick

[princeyadon]

hhh ok life update here ig

anyways, back when i quit my job i noticed a dark black spot on my nail on my toe on my right foot, i thought it was persistent dirt but it didn’t go away. didn’t think much on it, prolly somethin dumb. it doesn’t hurt and i can’t really see my feet well cuz my eyes and glasses are shit, and it was dark in my room when i noticed it

today i still have it, so it’s been arnd 5 months, its now a brown colour and i think its smaller. idk for sure cuz when i first looked at it, it was dark, and again my eyes are shit. but now theres a larger dark spot on my left foot toe nail, it’s black. idk when i first noticed it but i know it’s been there for a while, too. 

no pain, i dont remember any injuries, they are on matching toes similar locations. it could have been shoes or stubbing them or something, im just not sure when they got there exactly and how.

so, the right foot one doesn’t concern me since i do believe its smaller as i normally wouldnt have noticed it since eyes shit, i only know its there cuz it was noticed previously. which means its probably a blood bruise from an injury i dont remember. the problem is the left foot, idk when it got there, its much larger, on the corner where the nail starts and it meets the skin. the darkness isnt on the skin, just under the nail. i dont have any comparison or anything for it, i never noted them or took photos so i have no idea if its gotten bigger or smaller, or when it happened

the problem here is that, this is either bruising, or it’s one of the deadliest cancers out there so YEEHAW !!! cancer also runs in my family so thats cool.

i am going to a walk in clinic on friday but ive looked it up and the only real way to tell is through a biopsy and i didnt fuckin look into what that entails all i know is it that it sounds fucking painful esp since its a nail bed issue. 

i am lucky tho my stepmom is gonn come drive up to come w me 0′’( i feel like vomiting and passing out and i cant feel my legs when i think abt just the idea of taking blood, i have a terrible phobia of needles. 

i would leave it to find out, cuz apparently it can take up to 9 months for a blood bruise under a toenail to heal, but ive already done 5 months w the one. and i really dont wanna risk that you know..? idk, ig id rather traumatize myself finding out im ok than traumatize myself finding out im very very very not ok.

the other thing is, i dont have any other symptoms. and i cannot find any symptoms for this shit, just the nail issue?? i have no excessive fatigue, no sickness or repeated sickness, no sleep issues, no weight fluctuation, no appetite issues, like all the stuff id associate w a compromised immune system isnt there. i tried to find other symptoms for this but nothing came up, instead all i get is “OO SPOOKY SCARY U WILL DIE FROM THIS IF LEFT UNCHECKED DID U KNOW A PERSON IN AMERICA DIES EVERY HOUR TO THIS TYPE OF CANCER AND 1/5 PEOPLE GET IT??? OOOO SCARY”

anyways i was losing my mind and couldnt sleep till 4am so i let myself sleep extra late today cuz i am just, not doin so hot thinking abt it. normally i don’t get affected by cancer scares but this one is like, too risky..?? there’s no other real explanation other than the two options, and the wait time to find out safely is so long that i continue to risk shit esp since its already been months. and i just cannot remember having injured myself or worn shoes that were too tight etc. i did break new shoes two months ago but i cannot remember which foot ended up hurting more. my memory just isnt reliable for it....

i did take pics to log last night tho... and i noticed a lot of sources say this spotting usually occurs as bands or streaks that get larger, mine are just weird spots. but it also mentions them too so i have no idea what to think

for now i am tryna not think abt it till friday when i go, cuz i can’t do anything until then

[twelverose]

Let’s talk about diabetes. Because I, a diabetic, have seen too many stupid things online.

First and foremost. STOP saying things like “That looks like a diabetes”, “That looks like a diabetic coma.” etc, etc. (This is including those author’s notes and comments on writing that say “This gave me diabetes!!!!”)

A lot of people don’t realize what they mean when they say this. But also, maybe research? But here. I’ll give you the basic info and then some resources.

There are several types of diabetes. They all do different things to the body. The most common and misunderstood type is type two. Many consider this the disease you get when you’re fat. Nope! Anyone can get type two! It is simply your body refusing to use the insulin your pancreas creates.

Type one on the other hand, is where your body doesn’t create enough or any insulin. This is the deadly shit. This is the type that people die from. So I’m gonna dive into this one.

Insulin is expensive. A month’s supply without insurance, for me, is $300. This isn’t including the other supplies. Things like insulin pumps and continuous glucose monitors make life so much easier but are unavailable to people because they’re so fucking expensive. That $300 goes to $1500 a month real quick. Probably more. But these are considered “Luxuries” by many people and insurances, when they literally save lives. But that’s a whole other conversation.

“Why don’t you just ration it?” That is literally whats causing the spike in deaths for young (aka ppl who aged off of gov’t/parents insurance) diabetics. They can’t afford it so they ration. Then they go into diabetic ketoacidosis. 

DKA literally shuts down your body. I flatlined while in DKA. My kidneys failed and there was swelling in my brain. I was in the ICU for a week. This is w the what whole “This is so sweet it made me go into a diabetic coma” phrase means. Diabetics who go into comas are literally dying. I know diabetics who didn’t wake up. This phrase lightens traumatic experiences and tragic deaths into a joke and punchline. Please, stop using it.

Diabetics walk a very fine line of being disabled. Only half of the forms I sign consider me disabled. This is including legal forms. Diabetics often struggle because of this. We lose limbs because of this disease. Our immune system is compromised because of this disease. We face mental and physical health issues because of this disease. But when I apply for unemployment, I’m not disabled. When I apply for a job, I am.

You know the term “Hangry”? The whole “I’m angry/quick to be annoyed because I’m hungry” thing? That’s your body trying to warn you of a low blood sugar in most cases! And the “Food coma” you experience after a big dinner? High blood sugar baby! But the symptoms of these dumbass terms to what they are, and they make since! This doesn’t mean you have diabetes or are at risk of getting it. But it does show that your pancreas is a fragile little organ that sometimes struggles to keep up. Probably because you went off routine.

This is kinda rambled and complicated but so is diabetes. Please, I’m begging you. Do your own research. When someone tells you they have diabetes, please, for the love of God or whatever you believe in, DONT say “Oh my grandpa has that.” If your acquaintance/friend is willing to discuss their experiences and tell you what to do if something happens, listen to them! Ask questions! Every diabetic is different. 

Anyways, here are some resources:

 American Diabetes Association Explanation

 Diabetes Research Explanation

Issue of Rationing Insulin

Mental Health and Diabetes

Is Diabetes a Disability?

[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7

oh my god you guys we’re so close to shit finally going down it’s gonna rock your fucking worlds and I cannot WAIT for you to undergo it it’s gonna be so much fun. also i know jack shit about charity galas so like... watch out for that. or botanical gardens, for that matter. anyway enjoy! pls tell me what you think this is my baby

Calum invites Aspen to a gala and it’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to her.

Well, technically it’s a fundraiser for the Gotham City Children’s Organization. Also, she’s gonna be more of an employee, strictly speaking, than a guest. And Mr. Hood really only asked her to work there this Friday evening, she’s not, like, his date or anything. He kinda sprang this whole thing on her. To be completely honest, too, it’s probably only the most exciting thing to happen to her in, like, two months, because she’s cool, goddamnit.

Anyway, Aspen is going to be working overtime this Friday evening and she couldn’t be happier.

She’s been wound up about this since he told her Tuesday. She’s gonna dress up all nice, she’s gonna rub elbows with the Gotham elite, she’s gonna unhinge her jaw like a python and eat an entire tray of canapés - it’ll be good for her.

They’ve all been stressed.

For her, it’s just that it hasn’t been long since the Liam fiasco. That was rough. And for his part, Calum looks more and more worn down. The tabloids in the grocery store checkout line told her he’s not seeing that nurse or reporter or whoever it was anymore. He’s been stiff lately, with bags under his eyes despite whatever million-dollar face cream he’s doubtlessly using. If she wasn’t being very disciplined about their relationship she’d tease him to switch away from decaf. Maybe he’s sick, she thinks. Could be the flu. Compromised immune system and whatnot.

He’s under a lot of stress, now, after the murder.

Trident Incorporated was next, in the string of CEO attacks, and it was so much worse, this time around. The police found the Barton Mathis’ body shot in the head with hundred dollar bills stuffed in his mouth. Aspen knows because she made sure Mr. Hood got to the funeral on time.

It’s… worrying. Worrying because her pattern holds; they’d been just about to sign a big contract with Trident when the man was killed. She knows it’s crazy, Calum wouldn’t kill someone. No matter how cold he may come off. She hopes so, anyways. Sometimes his mood changes like that, and even if he didn’t pull the trigger, this is Gotham. There are any number of people who would do it for the right price. It’s the money down the victim’s throat, of all things, that makes her change her mind. She’s seen his car - money certainly doesn’t disgust him.

So Calum isn’t the killer, probably. But that still scares her.

Because he’s probably next.

He doesn’t get a bodyguard. He doesn’t amp up security, he doesn’t tell Aspen about a panic room or anything. It’s like he hasn’t fucking realized the danger he’s in. Aspen knows it’s not her job to stress about that, but that doesn’t mean that creeping horror hasn’t settled into her ribs. All she can do is keep her mouth shut and help him through the financial quarter ending, which is no fucking picnic either, in case you were wondering. She gets used to working late. 

So, yeah, she could use a break. They all could.

Friday morning, she brings her dress with her, folded up in a plastic grocery bag. That morning, when she hands over the coffee, Alfred passes her a suit in a garment bag as soon as her hands are free. “Do try not to wrinkle it before the event, Master Calum.” He says, giving Aspen a little wink like he knows she’d never do such a thing.

Calum rolls his eyes at both of them, but he’s the closest to smiling he’s been in days.

“And you’ve got your outfit?” He ask her as they step into the elevator.

She nods and wiggles the plastic shopping bag hanging off her wrist. “Don’t worry, sir, I’m going to look very fiscally responsible.” She’s taking donations at the event, so she’s already wearing her most accountant-like cardigan, but she’s gonna class it up this evening. Her nails are painted, and they’re not chipped yet or anything.

Anyway, he smiles distinctly at that. She likes being able to do that. It’s like a magic trick. “It’s good to see you smiling again. Thought maybe you forgot how.” Aspen says, and this time she doesn’t even try to stop herself. She’s been very good for the past few weeks, and she needs a rest from acting soulless and polite. Really, she’s just being nice.

“What?” Mr. Hood turns to look at her. Maybe she’s been more serious than she thought, if he’s that surprised to hear her tease him.

“I mean, you’ve had some rough days. ‘M glad to see you looking a little more relaxed.” Aspen delicately refrains from making a joke, and just gives him a little shrug and the truth. It seems like this means a lot to him, anyway - it feels like the first time he’s looked at her and seen her in ages. That feeling comes back, the one she buried. “And, y’know, it makes my job a lot easier when you’re in a good mood. No offense. Sir.” She covers it again, hastily, and like a spell’s been broken the elevator doors open and she steps into the lobby.

“None taken,” she hears him murmur from behind her as she maneuvers herself and the bag through his office door. “You know when the car’s coming, right?”

“At three.” She slips easy into the day-to-day talk, like an old sweater. It’s welcome. She feels like she’s burning under her skin and from nothing. This is why it has to be so stiff; there’s so much she risks with too-kind words. “Guests start to arrive at four thirty, your talk is at five-thirty, and then at 8 there’s the after-gala at Note Bene.”

“You’re invited to that, too.” Aspen turns around from hanging up his garment bag. Mr. Hood is looking at her from behind his desk, adjusting his sleeves - maybe just so he has something to do with his hands. “You could come along. I didn’t know if you would want to but- you seem excited for this.”

Aspen tells herself he’s offering to be polite, which- he must be. She can’t fool herself like that. It’s the stupid chemistry, that’s all, it’s getting to her, and if she ignores it long enough it’ll go away. “Thank you, but that’s not really my scene, I think.” She smiles, shrugs. “Anything else I can help you with while I’m in here, sir?”

“No. Thank you for all you help with the event, though, Aspen. I’m glad to have someone I can trust in charge of donations.” He says. She remembers in her interview, only three weeks ago, how he had eyes that pinned her to the wall. She feels it in his gaze now, too.

She can’t linger.

“Just doing my job!” She chirps, darting out the door and closing it softly behind her.

She thought she was over this, what the fuck?

It’s not a great time for these feelings to resurface, since he’ll probably be looking real real good in his suit this afternoon. There’s isn’t really a good time to get a crush on your boss, though. Being so impersonal had been driving Aspen crazy, but the second she relaxes around that man she gets weak; maybe this time she’ll learn her lesson.

She gets to work. She’s sifting through emails when the first phone call of the day comes through, and she checks the clock - it’s not even nine yet. That’s interesting. She’s not suspicious, though, not yet.

“Hood Enterprises, how can I help you?” She asks in her very best secretary voice.

“Hello, Detective Gordon, GCPD. I need to talk to Mr. Hood.”

Aspen feels like a stutter. Shit. Does this mean - is her boss some kind of Patrick Bateman or - the lie comes to her in a split second. “Well, he usually doesn’t come in until nine, but I’ll see if I missed him coming in. Just one moment, alright?” She smiles, even though the man on the other end can’t see it, and as soon as he agrees she puts him on hold and transfers to call Calum.

Aspen’s been touched by Calum. She knows he’s not a killer. But if he’s mixed up in- if this is about Don Falcone, or- no matter how she tries to justify it, her first instinct was to protect him however she could. That’s foolish, she knows. But here she is.

Calum picks up before she can lose her liar’s nerve. “There’s a detective from the GCPD on the line for you.” She explains, praying she at least doesn't sound paranoid. “I was wondering if you were in.”

It's calculating, the silence on the other line. They're both careful not to say too much, even in normal situations, but this… it's a little more delicate.

“Did they mention their name?” He asks, which relaxes Aspen a little. It's not the worst answer he could have given.

“Ah, a Detective Gordon.” She says, which seems to be the right answer, because he asks her to connect him.

Aspen does, and then she has to hang up and live with what just happened, which is better than talking to a policeman. Only just, though.

She thinks Calum can't get mad at her for thinking he could have something to hide if he didn't want to talk on the phone.  Worst comes to worst, she'll say she wasn't sure if he'd want a lawyer or not. She knows he won't buy it, but it's a fair defence.

Now that she's got that figured out, she turns her attention to what her boss is hiding. Some offshore bank accounts? Or maybe Gordon is some cop he's paying off, to hide a secret double life. Maybe he's doing something wicked, just for the thrill of it. She’d say something related to escorts, but Aspen's pretty confident there's no one he couldn't have if he really wanted, so that's out.

Usually Aspen loves thinking up great and improbable theories for things she doesn't understand. It's different now, with Calum. She's got respect for him, and she doesn't want to lose that. It's probably healthy for her to drop her romanticized vision of him so she can get some fucking work done, if she's honest, but… god, she doesn't want to. Even after three weeks of being snapped at, she still sees a beauty in him, and that's rare. She kind of wants to chase that.

She keeps herself from thinking too much by listening to the phone messages that people left last night. Shit, she’s probably gonna have to come back in after the gala, isn’t she? Lots of emergencies and news happens at the end of the day, she should really- shit, no, this isn’t working, she can’t focus. She’s still turned upside down by what her boss might be involved in.

She tells herself she’s just worried for her job security. It doesn’t change anything.

She’s watching out of the corner of her eye and she sees when the line Calum’s being called on goes dead. How long is he going to wait before he called her in? He’s gonna want to talk about this, and ooh, who knew who could be listening? Wait, that’s a little cloak and dagger, even for her.

That’s what she thinks at the time, anyway. She has no idea.

He gives it only about a minute before he calls her and asks her to come into his office. It must be important, then. Aspen’s almost more curious than nervous; she’s pretty sure something is up, but she’s excited to see how Calum tries to brush it off. She steps in and smiles like she has no idea what to expect, like nothing’s wrong. “How can I help you?”

He’s writing something when she comes in, which she’s starting to think is a defence mechanism. He doesn’t make her wait, though, he puts his pen down as soon as she speaks up. “Oh, I just wanted to say that appreciate your discretion.” He says, face carefully controlled.

Very eloquent, he’s very good at this. She’s almost reassured. “Absolutely, sir. Should I do the same thing every time the police call, or-”

“You can transfer Gordon through directly, but otherwise… please. Yes.” He smiles stiffly, and Aspen can’t help it, she takes it as a challenge. She’s gonna find out what’s going on.

It’s like he can read her mind, because he says “None of that, Miss McMichael, don’t give me that look.” Aspen startles. Was it really that obvious? Does she have a look? She’s almost in trouble, judging by how he’s addressing her. 

Her heart starts to pound despite herself. “A cat may look at a king, sir.” She tries to cover, but that asshole sees right through her.

“I don’t want you getting the wrong idea about this, alright? Detective Gordon was letting me know about the security at the fundraiser. After the- um, I think you understand why it’s essential for our guests to feel safe.”

Shit.

Okay, maybe Aspen was a little hasty. “Of course, sir.” She says, making her most sympathetic face. Fuck, one of his peers was just murdered, no wonder he’s in touch with the police. She’d be nervous and shifty, too.

...it doesn’t quite explain why he only wants to hear from Gordon, but she’ll save that for later.

She makes a quick exit, now, after mumbling updates about all the messages she’s sifted through. A lot of people want to talk to Calum this morning, and as soon as business hours start he’s kept on the line pretty solidly through the morning and afternoon. In the middle of one of his phone calls, around noon, she sneaks in and puts a granola bar on his desk, and she’s out before she can see if he smiles at her for it. It’s been a, um, weird morning, and she wants to avoid anything that champagne could catalyze tonight. She’s just being a good PA, to be sure, but still.

The day drags on until three in the afternoon. Fifteen minutes before the car is supposed to come (god, Aspen feels so fancy when she thinks that), she shuts her computer down and stands up. Since the incident with Liam, she’s taken to locking the schedule in her file cabinet, just to be safe, so that’s what she does before she sneaks out of her office to get changed.

Aspen knows she’s not supposed to be attracting attention at this thing, so she’s dressed a little like a librarian. She borrowed a black slip dress from her roommate (since Aspen hasn’t bought a dress since, like, prom), and she’s wearing a grey cardigan over it to keep her looking tepid. Now, smoothing out the skirt in the bathroom mirror, she thinks happily that she’s not completely sexless.

She knows that’s dangerous, given her feelings for her boss (ugh), but since he doesn’t reciprocate what’s the harm in looking like a sexy librarian? The confidence will probably fade as soon as she’s surrounded by whatever designer tea gowns the guests will be wearing, but she doesn’t mind.

“You look nice,” Janice tells her once she emerges, and Aspen appreciates the gesture.

“Aw, thanks. I was going for an outfit that said ‘trust me with thousands of dollars���, you think it’ll go over well?” She smiles, and Janice nods. “I think I’m gonna come back after the thing just to check messages, so don’t worry about answering my phone.” She adds as she’s heading back to her desk, grabbing her coat and bag.

When she turns around, she sees Calum.

Here’s the thing; she knew he would look good. He looks good all the time, just business casual, but he looks good now, in a suit that looks expensive and tailored and beautiful. Fuck this, honestly, Aspen’s gonna have to avoid him all night to keep from making a fool of herself.

She blinks to take him in, and their eyes meet. He was looking at her, he must have been, looking properly. She knows she can’t hold a candle to him, not in her begged and borrowed outfit, but the fucking electricity between them makes her hope for a second-

“Ready to go?” He asks her. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was smirking.

“Yeah, absolutely.” Aspen says. Her voice comes out so much smoother than she feels.

How’s she supposed to handle the car ride? Being in a small enclosed space with him sounds like too good of an idea right now.

She waves goodbye to Janice as they head out, and she busies herself with the tablet he gave her for taking donations in the elevator so she has an excuse not to look at him too long. It reminds her that, right, she could get in serious trouble if she doesn’t stay focused here today, and that cools her down enough to relax a little.

Aspen had been hoping that Calum would have a limo to take there, so when it’s his usual sedan waiting outside she feels a little let down. It doesn’t make sense for him to take a limo if he’s showing up before everyone else, she guesses, no one to show off for, but she had been hoping... Whatever. Alfred opens the door for her, and she slides in and immediately finds herself next to a kid with black hair and the bluest eyes she’s ever seen. He’s little, wiry, and he’s maybe twelve. Calum follows her in, and maybe he senses her confusion. “Aspen, this is my ward, Dick Grayson. Dick, this is my assistant, Ms. McMichael.”

Dick Grayson puts out his hand to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, miss.” He says, with confidence you don’t usually find in a pre-teen.

Aspen is used to things being weird by now, so she reaches out and shakes his hand, just to be polite. “Likewise. Hey, you can call me Aspen, people only call me Ms. McMichael when I’m in trouble.” She smiles, just to put the kid a little more at ease. It’s eerie, seeing someone so young so formal.

It seems to work well enough, because as the car starts Dick smiles so wide his face almost cracks open. That’s better. “I read one of your research papers. About, um, the protein in the cell membrane, the, um, it was a sort of, um, ATP pump, the-”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, the effects of the SNP mutation- I remember. How’d you like it?”

Dick screws up his face and then immediately tries to smooth it out, regain his composure. He’s still trying to be polite, Aspen thinks, which is adorable but so not her style. Plus, he’s like eleven, he shouldn’t have composure. “It was-” he says-

“Godawful to read, right?” Aspen slouches back into the car seat, hoping if she relaxes the kid will relax. This might be the first time she’s slouched in front of Calum, she thinks, but she tries to ignore how she knows that.

She knows what she’ll see if she looks over at her boss; him watching her intently with those eyes like stars, some bright fire burning inside him. His eyes have a light to them she can’t escape. She thinks he does it with everyone - he’s been giving her looks like this since the interview, after all.

Sometimes she likes to pretend it’s just for her, though. She can feel the fabric of his suit pants brushing against her bare leg, and sometimes the warm weight of his thigh when the car turned the corner. This backseat doesn’t nearly feel big enough for the three of them, all in a row. She can’t believe her brain’s going haywire just because he’s close. 

She focuses on the child beside her, on the science. That’s what she knows, not people. She knows the proteins and serums they’re made of, but even her own human heart is confusing. “Scientific writing can be - it’s hard to be accurate and interesting at the same time. It’s kind of stupid. But, hey, we’ve got like, fifteen minutes of this car ride, if you have any questions I’ll answer them.” She says.

“You don’t have to,” she hears, and Calum touches her elbow softly. It burns through her cardigan. How does he do that? “Dick knows you’re not here to entertain him.” She turns to look at him, catches his eye, and oh- it’s that look, she knew it.

Her mouth goes dry. She tries to ignore it.

“Nah, it’s my pleasure. You haven’t let me talk about science for two weeks, I’m deprived.” She finds it in her to scold right back. She controls her movement as she turns back to Dick Grayson, so it doesn’t look like she’s trying to break his gaze before she combusts. “Anything I can help you understand?”

“What’s an ATP?”

That’s how Aspen spends the car ride, then, instead of thinking about the man beside her. It seems to work; by the time they reach the venue she’s not as jittery, as raw, as she might be. And hey, to his credit, Dick is a good kid; he’s excited to learn what he can and he laughs at her jokes. Aspen likes that in anyone.

The venue is the Gotham Botanical Gardens, which Aspen is also real excited about. She’s going to sneak into the greenhouses if she gets the chance, but for now she keeps pace with Mr. Hood and Dick Grayson as they weave their way through the armed guards. There’s at least two cop cars that she can see - it all seems a little extreme to her, but it’s Gotham. She glances over at Dick - he seems a little freaked out, too. At least it’s not just her delicate sensibilities.

As soon as they’re into the ballroom - ballroom, Jesus, this city is extravagant when it gets the chance - Calum is dragged away by a harried man in a very nice suit. Someone shows Aspen to a table and introduces her to the woman who’ll be making sure any checks that are written don’t go missing. Renee Montoya has a gun at her hip and iron in her stare, but Aspen gets her talking about her work and eventually the woman warms up. Things seem to be going smoothly with the preparations (she’s keeping an eye on Calum, it’s her job, okay?) when suddenly there’s a BANG and someone screams.

Montoya actually pushes Aspen behind her as she takes out her gun, all in one smooth motion, and half the cops around the room are doing the same, searching for the source of the noise.

It’s happening. This is it. Aspen looks for Calum instinctively, can’t find him, oh, shi-

“Shit, goddamn it- we’re okay, everybody, Jesus, this kid-”

Time unfreezes. The police officer who swore is clutching his wrist, almost doubled over, but there’s no blood. Aspen lowers her fists. She’s not sure when she got into a fighting stance, but as she relaxes and the officers lower their guns she feels a little silly for it.

They’re all on edge, she supposes.

Her next thought is to find Dick. There’s only one kid in this building, at least as far as she knows, and she does not underestimate his capacity for trouble.

Another look around find both him and Calum - Aspen feels like she’s intruding, seeing them hug on the other side of the ballroom. Plus of course he’s a good father figure, because apparently the universe hates her and wants her to suffer.

She supposes she’s gotten attached to Dick, that’s why she strides over as they start to part. Dick isn’t crying, but he does look a moment from it when she comes up. Aspen’s not exactly nurturing, she doesn’t know if she can help, but she wants to. “Hey, you doing alright? What happened?” She asks him.

Dick looks up at Calum, who nods at him to tell her. It’s sweet. “I was looking for the bathroom and the officer found me. I think he thought I was lost, but he grabbed my shoulder an’ I didn’t know he was there and I panicked. I made a mistake.”

Aspen can’t blame him for being shaken. “Well, it is bad manners to grab people.” She says. Dick kind of cracks a smile at that. “Hey, it’s only a mistake if you let it happen again, that’s what I think. Don’t worry too much about it.”

When she glances up, Calum is smiling. “Do you mind staying with Dick until the guests start to arrive?” He asks her. “The planner’s had three separate crises since we got here.”

Aspen nods. “I’m good with that as long as you are.” She says to Calum’s ward, who looks unsure, but nods.

That’s a good sign. She’s glad he’s okay.

As soon as Calum’s gone she focuses in on the boy, who looks at her solidly. He is a little old for her to be babysitting him, but for now she’s free to goof around, so she doesn’t mind. “Did you find anything cool while you were looking for the bathroom? I’ve been trying to sneak into the greenhouses since we got here.”

“Just the kitchens.” Dick says, shaking his head.

Fuck yes. “Just the kitchens? Buddy, we gotta check it out. I’m sure if you look sad and cute enough they’ll give us all kinds of leftovers.”

“You think?”

“Give me your best puppy-dog eyes.” Aspen says.

Dick complies.

“Jesus, you are good. Those chefs aren’t gonna know what hit them.”

[broodsys]

venting, covid /

man.... i was so excited for spring. ive been talking eagerly abt it for months. and now that it's here, i can barely get outside to garden

im just too close to my neighbors w/o any significant barriers and it's Bad. and obv this is nothing to complain about set against everything else, but god, it was the light at the end of the tunnel for a long time and now it's gone - and not only that, but the whole damn tunnel fell out, for everyone, and now we're all a lot further down

idk. realizing today that the only real way to keep myself safe - bc no one is cleaning much (besides their hands, and i'm so glad for that at least!) and my mom has to work but my brother keeps going out for beer & cigs like every other day like a fucking monster - was to quarantine both me and piper made it very, very real in a way that it hadn't quite been before

and the thing is, even if i get it ill probably be okay. i have to think of myself as immunocompromised but it's like... it's an artificial compromise. it's my meds. on my own i have a far too robust immune system, so obv id stop taking my meds and i could probably fight it off at home but. it's still really, really scary and i feel really, really alone in my fear and my efforts here. and im just so angry at my brother for being so careless and at my mom for not pushing them and at the world

and now i'm stuck in my room which isn't too bad for me but piper's confused and doesn't understand yet that it's going to be a permanent arrangement moving forward and it just... hurts a lot to see her like this. she's okay, really, but it always hurts me a lot if i have to deprive her of anything she loves, and i'm definitely depriving her of some of her favorite places in the house

[alluran]

autumn leaves

klancetober day two | direct follow-up w/ even more romantic gestures to one we were in screaming color

“Keith, buddy. I know we’ve had our rough patches and you’re probably still out for revenge from the last prank, but does it all really warrant you bringing a literal bag of garbage into my apartment when I’m already sick?”

Keith set the grocery bag on the coffee table in front of Lance’s overzealous cold cocoon on the couch. “Be prepared to eat those words.”

“Sorry, Hunk’s got me on a strict soup and saltines regimen, nothing too acidic.”

He rolled his eyes as Lance struggled to sit up in the pile of blankets he had tangled himself into since the first sign of a fever. He bit the inside of his cheek when Lance finally got halfway to sitting all of the way up. “What was that two weeks ago about taking the boy out of the sub-tropical climate?”

“Okay it’s not my fault that I enjoy seasonal changes, but my body does not. You’re really out to kick a man when he’s already down, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.” Keith called over his shoulder as he left Lance to find his legs in the mess of blankets, He pulled out his phone to read over a text from Shiro and started to pull Sprite and soup from the fridge. It took some effort to hunt down the tapped supply of saltines in the cabinet, but he got everything and made his way back to Lance.

Who was spilled over the edge of the couch, one leg still hopelessly tangled in the blankets and the other sticking straight out in the air.

“How have you not died without supervision yet?”

Lance sniffed. “I’ll have you know this doesn’t happen every time.” Lance tracked Keith’s movements, setting the crackers and drink down on the table to put soup in the microwave. “But please, take your time. My immune system and upper body strength is just compromised and all of the blood is rushing painfully to my head.”

Keith crossed him arms and raised his eyebrow down at Lance. “I don’t know, I think your brain could use a little extra blood flow for a change.”

Lance groaned and slid more onto the floor before Keith finally took mercy on him and came to help him. Lance knew he ran warm, even warmer with the cold from hell wreaking havoc on his skin despite the care he took in it, but the first brush of Keith’s hand on his arm was incredible. He was a very tactile person. Keith had nice, strong hands. So sue him if he couldn’t think of anything better than the relief of cool, calloused fingers wrapped around his arm before they warmed up as Lance was righted. Having a cold felt isolating, not that he expected Hunk to still be down for cuddles and hugs when he was gross and contagious, but he was weak for something more than a measured shoulder pat or brief circle of fingers between his shoulder blades.

Which were good things, he wasn’t complaining.

He just happened to buzz with the want of someone beside him despite the coughing and the worrying amount of empty tissue boxes surrounding him.

Lance settled back into the couch and sighed when Keith’s hand didn’t immediately pull away but brushed down his arm.

Man, he was tired again already.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

Lance peeked one eye open at Keith. “Rest is literally what I need right now, Keef.”

“I promised Hunk I would make sure you ate something before you went back into another coma nap.”

“Hm, and what does this have to do with the gift of trash?”

The microwave beeped, cutting off Keith’s retort. Lance’s eyes snapped to the grocery bag on his coffee table with dirt or something in it. Keith probably brought him the plague without even realizing it. Well, it was nice while it lasted. If he died at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the god awful stuffy nose that made just existing suck. The second he didn’t have it, he was going to devote a whole four hours to appreciating cleared up sinuses.

Why had he been so ungrateful before this?

Breathing unhindered was great. He could sit or lay down in any position without his body suffocating itself. He wasn’t just restricted to the one position that allowed him to breathe but may have permanently molded his back into a lowercase r.

“Solid point, I’ll remember to be more grateful I don’t have all of that.” Keith gestured to Lance as he set Hunk’s soup in front of him. “But being dramatic about it is just going to make you more miserable, so..”

Oh, he’d said that out loud.

Freaking Benadryl.

Lance shook his head and reached for the bowl when he noticed Keith go down his hallway. “Uh, where ya going, bud?”

“You’re out of tissues.”

“Oh, we might have another box in the hallway closet? Whiiiiich you just passed?”

Keith ducked out of his line of sight, definitely sneaking into his bedroom. “Yep.”

“Hey now! Just because a man’s down, doesn’t mean you get to tear through his room. Get your mullet back here, you jerk.” Keith didn’t answer him. Lance knew he could definitely hear him. His body lurched with the thought of standing. So taking Keith down was out of the question. “I will come to your house and move all of your furniture a fraction of an inch so you stub every one of your toes if you do not get back out here now, Kogane.”

The sound of the hallway closet opening and shutting muffled Keith’s words. “I don’t think it has the impact you’re hoping for if you tell me about it beforehand.”

Keith appeared back in the living room, tossing an unopened box of tissues on the couch beside Lance and set the camera he gave him beside the mysterious bag of trash.

Panic rose in Lance’s chest because he knew for a fact that he had a gnarly pillow crease on the left side of his face that went from his ear, up his cheekbone, and over his eyebrow. He was in a t-shirt that had been washed and worn so many times that the collar never went back to normal, it hung low against his collarbone making it look more like it had been worn and not washed. His pores screamed at him because he had to cut his skin routine short for the sake of rest and not standing longer than ten minutes at a time. Add to that the two empty tissue boxes, overflowing waste basket of used tissues and saltine packages. It was a waking nightmare.

“W-what. Whatchya doing with my camera?” His voice climbed several octaves as Keith turned it on and adjusted the settings.

Once he was done, he set it in front of Lance and relief washed over him. At least if Keith decided that whatever he had planned paled in comparison for a revenge opportunity, then Lance had some chance to lean forward fast enough to fight Keith for it.

“You’ll see. Also, eat before the soup gets cold.” Keith sat down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, not pausing in his work as he untied the grocery bag and began to pull things out.

Cold medicine was seriously messing with Lance because he was in no way prepared for Keith to start pulling leaves out of the bag and lining them up on the coffee table like it made the best sense in the world. Like this was something people did. Ate soup and saltines while staring at leaves in various stages of decay. Total normal, wholesome American past time. 100%.

Lance lifted the spoon to his mouth and swallowed, the warmth uncurling some of the tension in his chest. “You’re gonna have to give me a hint here. I’m lost. And vaguely still concerned you’re going to throw trash at me.”

Keith sighed, looking back up at Lance through his eyelashes like Lance had asked the world’s dumbest question. “You’re too sick to go to the park and I didn’t know how long it would take you to get better.”

He said it so earnestly, Lance didn’t have the heart to question him further. He sat back and ate in silence, watching Keith focus back on his work as he carefully pulled more leaves out of the sack and lined them up on the table, occasionally switching one leaf with another in the line. A deep burgundy leaf, almost the size and width of Keith’s palm was at Keith’s right, followed by a vibrant red. The leaf looked like a Valentine with its shape resembling a heart. Keith rifled through the bag and considered a yellow and a green one, setting them both aside to rummage for an orange one.

Lance swallowed thickly as he tried to make no sudden movement or noise as he set the half eaten bowl of soup back on the coffee table and reached for the camera.

No way.

No. Way.

There was no way Keith couldn’t hear how fast and loud Lance was breathing through his mouth, but he kept working. Lance raised the camera to his eye, finding the top of Keith’s dark head in the viewfinder, his small ponytail curled toward his neck. He lowered the shot to catch the line of leaves, laid out in the start of an impressive gradient. Lance made sure none of his food or the tissue boxes interrupted the frame as he focused and hoped Keith wouldn’t get suspicious and look up too soon.

Lance bit his lip and clicked the shutter button, the noise and flash catching Keith’s attention a beat later.

“Lance.”

“Told you I’d get your picture.” He smiled, the brief irritation on Keith’s face falling away as he looked at Lance with a small tilt to his mouth.

There was a brief tickle at the back of his head, he thought he had seen the look before. He didn’t know what to make of it yet.

Hunk was tired when he got home, his brain complete goo after his shift at work. It took him a solid three tries to get the door unlocked and then, two more times to get the key out of the lock once it was opened. It really shouldn’t have almost brought him to tears, but there he was. Emotionally drained and ready to fight the front door.

It was a miracle Lance had slept through his very loud tussle, he was a light sleeper for the most part and since he struggled breathing it was a fight for Lance’s body to relax enough to allow him the kind of fitful rest he needed. A spark of panic rushed through him. Hunk softly shut the door and walked closer to the couch, studying the mountain of blankets currently hiding his best friend and waited.

Lance shuddered in his sleep and coughed.

“Okay, good. Good. Very good. You’re not dead.” Hunk scrubbed a hand over his face and kicked off his shoes. “Obviously you can’t breathe better yet, but not dead. That’s all I’m asking for here. Wha-” He turned to the table, ready to tackle the damage Lance did on the tissue boxes and a filmy soup bowl.

His brain came to a painful halt.

The information his eyeballs took in did not compute. He was tired and stressed, but he didn’t think it was bad enough be into full on, very vivid and convincing hallucination of a clean coffee table. Even Lance’s waste basket was empty and had a fresh bag in it. Hunk gingerly walked backwards toward the kitchen.

A reverse robber? Some perverse serial murder that was hiding in the hall closet that went out of their way to make everything look pleasant before the real nightmare? The ghost he definitely heard crinkle a candy wrapper behind him the other day when no one else was home???

He really couldn’t handle a poltergeist.

Sure they started out not as threatening and okayish but they never stayed that way. It was October, they had to be at Maximum Strength or something. They cleaned Lance’s soup bowl, even let it properly dry in the dish rack, and twisted the open saltine pack shut with one of their chip clips. Major props.

Hunk went back out to the living room, Lance still passed out and unaware of the panic settling in. They needed to thank the ghost and then get out. No waiting. No going to sleep with the TV on. No s-

Okay, definitely an evil poltergeist because there was literally a bag of trash sitting on the floor at the end of the couch Lance was laying on. It was probably leaking death spores into the air.

He carefully brushed his toe against the bag - maybe the spiders and scorpions were just hidden and waiting for him to get close before they would crawl out.

Nothing happened.

Hunk leaned over the bag and saw a scrap of white that sat on the top of the- were those leaves? He plucked the object off of the top and stared at it.

It was a solid minute later and he was still staring.

The picture answered some things, mostly there were only more questions. He understood it in parts - the top of Keith’s head angled over the coffee table, leaves laid out in a gradient, the flash that washed out his skin in comparison to his black t-shirt, his relaxed posture. Put together? Zero sense.

Hunk glanced over the picture at Lance. “What have you guys been up to?”

a/n: bless hunk, honestly.

and the candy wrapper thing happened to me today while I was at my mom’s doing laundry. this one got away from me a little a bit, but I had fun with it. I wanted to combine days one and two in a chapter so the story is now up on ao3! read it here.

[nesoi]

@starklea tagged me.

A: Age? 22 B: Birthplace? sin jawns newfoundland C: Current Time? 9:45pm D: Drink you last had? fruitopia from the carton while standing nude in front of the fridge E: Easiest person to talk to? me ‘usband F: Favorite song? any song by Hey Rosetta! probably G: Grossest moment? when i had thag mysterious viral illness that turned my mouth into sores thanks to my god compromised immune system H: Horror no or horror yes? eh I: In love? married J: Jealous of people? anyone who can make art consistently K: Killed someone? no L: Love at first sight? also no M: Middle name? Lee N: Number of siblings? one older half brother and one younger sibling O: One wish? also if being selfish money or the ability to look better lol P: Person you called last? my manager Q: Question(s) your asked often? stuff about my sex life honestly R: Reason to smile? i have my own apartment and don’t live home S: Song you last sang? probably something stupid to my cat T: Time you woke up? Fucking 4pm U: Underwear color? just black :( V: Vacation destination? adams thinking New Zealand actually W: Worst habit? honestly shouldn’t be smoking as much as i do lol X: X-rays? Several head ones, one chest and one abdominal. Y: Your favorite food? SUSHI or fish in general. loves me some cod fish Z: Zodiac sign? sagittarius with a very awful rising sign that i won’t even admit

i’ll tag @tabbran @witchymagics

[pearlescentbirdmom]

Quarantine tag! Tagged by @bookwyrmbran

Are you staying home from work or school?

Well, I quit my job when shit started to hit the fan. My dad has a compromised immune system. It was better to limit my contact with others as much I could.

If you're staying home who is there with you?

My dad and our two dogs (Joey and Gus). But we're country peeps and live next door to my grandparents. So I could count my grandparents too because we literally share property. I can walk from my porch to granny's.

Are you a homebody?

Yes, but isolation is killing me. I enjoy being on my own and at home a lot of the time. But this shit is killing me. I miss being able to just haul off and go see a movie with the squad or whatever.

An event you were looking forward to that got canceled?

*gross sobbing* My state's Renaissance Fair. It's a time honored tradition for me and the squad to go. It's like practically a religious experience for us, because Gray and I are rolling in pagan vibes and party energy and like-minded nerds. (But I mean its a known thing that like 90% of the people running our fair and working it are pagan of some flavor so lol yeah.) but ren fair is a huge thing that we do every year and have since we've been in high school. I think this will be the first time we've not gone.

What movies have you watched recently?

I've been binge watching my Ghibli box set, so like: Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle, Ponyo, and My Neighbor Totoro

What shows are you watching?

We don't have Netflix or anything. Just like normal TV with an antenna so dad and I watch crime drama shows that are running. NCIS: Los Angeles, Blue Bloods, Chicago PD, Criminal Minds, Law & Order SVU. And then stuff like Home Improvement, According to Jim, and That 70s Show.

What music are you listening to?

Spotify is my lifeblood right now. I'm listening to a lot of my devotional playlists. Here have some:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/78tnSt6gPOcQsFcWvP3eXZ?si=lxtMAviIShG0ZbKQ04MpdQ

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2U1YdOV08kQJPcEKlmNVgF?si=aJwFeQ-VRj2Ezb3hzfQL3w

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2G0FKHLC5qEYbjSh7dsxAQ?si=WGuONJVCRwicyIE3_MB29Q

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2hppIJ7vljT5QIyiSSwUN6?si=EVDk25H6SlOexwfIDR8oGw

What are you reading?

Nothing but fanfiction. I'm not gonna lie. It's been *looks at calendar* 47 years since I last read a book. I can tell you it was probably Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman, no that's a lie, it was Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman. Yeah. 👍 Also I read a lot of stuff that @momolady and @monster-bait write. Cause their stuff is quick and cute and fun to read and I'm a sucker for monster romance (and fucking.) They do great stuff, give them a look-see if you're into that.

What are you doing for self-care?

Re: movies, tv shows, devotional music, fanfiction & monster romance. But also, petting my dogs, and trying to laugh at shit with my dad because the world is on fire & we seem to be in a drought. Cooking yummy stuff with my dad. Napping.

Does getting lost in Odinicfuckery count as self-care? Ah we'll count it anyway. Focusing on Goth Daddy is actually really helpful and keeps me from panicking. Like writing shit for him and making moodboards is a good distraction and keeps my brain from jumping down the rabbithole of fuck that is negative thought patterns.

Tagging: Whoever wants to do it?

@trickster-apologist @aro-killcommander-eve @rowenluka @grimnirslee

Quarantine tag!

tagged by @slytherkins

ARE YOU STAYING HOME FROM WORK OR SCHOOL?

Yep! I’m into my second month of quarantine now, along with my spouse; we’re looking at at least three more weeks thereof.

IF YOU’RE STAYING HOME, WHO IS THERE WITH YOU?

Spouse (Schatzi), dog (Orion), cats (Jack Harkness and Nyota Uhura). Good company all, though Orion is getting rather restless.

ARE YOU A HOMEBODY?

Ehhhhh. I like moving, I like travelling, I like being outdoors. I would be doing better if I could actually take walks around my area but even that is currently discouraged.

AN EVENT THAT YOU WERE LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT GOT CANCELLED?

AARWR, which I was slated to present at, and which wound up getting moved online. I’d’ve had to call out anyways Because Plague, but still.

WHAT MOVIES HAVE YOU WATCHED RECENTLY?

Uhhhhh….. I think the 13th Warrior, and… that’s about it. Frozen 2 back when it came out? I don’t really watch most things.

WHAT SHOWS ARE YOU WATCHING?

Currently none, because they take too many spoons.

WHAT MUSIC ARE YOU LISTENING TO?

Whatever is on various gods’ playlists, plus the occasional German musical and sea-themed instrumental albums. Song on right now is “I’d Have You Anytime,” George Harrison.

WHAT ARE YOU READING?

Rereading most of the Pelted!verse stuff by MC Hogarth; also the Sacrifices Arc (HP AU rewrite) by lightningonthewave; occasional poetry. Nothing new, don’t currently have the brainpower.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING FOR SELF CARE?

Taking things very easy and very slow. Trying not to let too much trash or dishes or whatnot accumulate; trying to do things with my hands that don’t take as much mental focus. Lots of naps, lots of baths, lots of quiet contemplative time with my gods. Anger gets shit done, but right now I don’t have the spoons to do anything with the anger, so… trying to let go of it for right now; that pot is always damn near frothing over anyhow.

tagging: oh fuck if I know. uhhh, @strange-lights-and-stardust, @pearlescentbirdmom, @edderkopper, @cargopantsman, @occulumensss, @whoever else feels like it?

[biologybrat]

(( me, on a perpetual basis, at my failure 2 thrive flesh vessel:

[cassie1604]

Once you’ve been bitten by the travel bug, there is no antidote.  Wanderlust will course through your veins for the rest of your life.

Travel, for me, has always been an addiction.  I can never get enough of it, despite having been forced to slow down a bit recently. An irritating combination of having a compromised immune system and my sportaholic youth coming back to haunt me.  I have no cartilage left in either of my knees, so I’m walking bone on bone.  Unfortunately, a concrete date for my first replacement knee has not been set but, in the meantime, my spirit is ever willing.

With the threat of COVID-2019 hanging in the air, it probably wasn’t the best time for me to think about hobbling off to Holland.  Still, Amsterdam was calling, and for a special occasion.

February 2020 – Cassie and Ollie, refusing to make eye contact as I pack my suitcase.

The only negative about going on holiday for me is leaving the family members who, through no fault of their own, have to stay at home.  I hate leaving Cassie the Blog Dog and Ollie the Cat, and they hate being left.  They refuse to make eye contact with me, once they’ve clocked the suitcase.  But, we are very fortunate to have a friend who moves in to look after them when we are away.  Someone who seems to have the canine/feline-Mary Poppins-effect on them both.d

Booked with BA, Jersey through to Amsterdam, our flight was late arriving into Jersey, due to strong winds.  Fortunately, we arrived in Gatwick with plenty of time to catch our connecting flight to Schiphol and get into the holiday spirit at ‘Spoons’.

Unfortunately, as with all delays, they have a knock-on effect.  Our Amsterdam flight was delayed a little, but once we were all boarded, our captain then decided to break the news that Dutch Air Trafic Control had put back our landing time back by about three hours, because of the wind.

We spent the first hour on board parked by the finger, before being moved to ‘a quieter part of the airport’ to enjoy the view, for another two hours before taking off.

As we discovered, the earlier EasyJet flight to Amsterdam had been cancelled.  Apparently, as Holland is mostly flat, the Arctic winds roll in from the north which can make for some exciting sideways landing, and, more disappointingly, cancellations.  Fortunately, that didn’t happen to us. Once on our way, it was only a wind-assisted 45-minute flight before we started enjoying our Amsterdam experience.

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A quiet seat with a view, Gatwick Airport February 2020

Bye, bye Gatwick

Hello Amsterdam

To be continued…

    Travel Undaunted Once you've been bitten by the travel bug, there is no antidote.  Wanderlust will course through your veins for the rest of your life.

[sonzyb]

If we were having coffee this week, first of all, how are you? I probably haven’t seen you in ages. If I don’t live with you, work with you, or if I’m not related to you (even then it’s no guarantee) then chances are I don’t see you as much as I’d like. While I’m listening, I’m going to get the coffees in, my treat today, no arguing. To celebrate being off for Halloween, I’m having an Irish Coffee, what would you like?

I had a mental list of stuff to write about this week, but now that I have space and time, I can’t remember what it was. The best ideas always seem to come when I’m in the shower or driving – basically when it’s impossible to make a note.

Oh yeah, I was going to pick your hive mind about the flu vaccine. Mostly I’m all for vaccines, and herd immunisation, but for some reason, I’ve always had a bit of a bee in my bonnet about the flu jab. How much protection does it give? I think my skepticism comes from knowing that there are so many different strains of flu, and it can mutate so quickly what’s the point, but I’m willing to be won round by a good argument.

This comes on the back of being called for an appointment. I’m not going to lie, I was scandalized when it came through, because “only old or sick people get called for that, right”? My nose was put right out of joint! Then, I had to have a word with myself, pushing 50 and with a compromised immune system I probably fall under both categories, my mental self-image has been kicking a tin can down the road in a huff ever since.

This has not been helped by me finally admitting that I also need reading glasses.

A slight bonus is that Mr. Plot tells me I have a new “scary thing” (this is good, but I wonder what the ‘old scary thing was). I thought it (new scary thing) was looking over the top of my glasses since I only need them for close up stuff. But no; the scary thing is if we are ‘talking’ and I  pause, take them off, put them in their case and snap it shut. Apparently, this is enough to put the fear of God into him, the two dogs and anyone else in the vicinity. Result!

  Are you ready for the Halloween holidays? Do you even get off? I’ve taken three days leave so that I can be off with the boys, who are not impressed that I haven’t decorated the house yet. I mean seriously? Decorated? I haven’t even tidied the house yet never mind decorated it, mind you if it’s just a case of tattered blinds, dead flowers, and giant spiders, we are all set. And while we are on the subject, can I just say that spiders not liking Horse Chestnut is a complete myth, I’ve watcher the buggers hide from the dogs in a pile of freshly collected conkers.

A previous attempt at carving a pumpkin with the boys

Anyway, I imagine that will all be rectified later today, we’ll have the place looking like Freddy Kruger’s holiday home by teatime.

We are deep in pre-AQE angst at the moment. What’s the AQE? It’s an exam that 10/11-year-old children in Northern Ireland sit, which determines their post-primary school, with scores determining being labeled as a success or a failure aged 11 Grammar or State Schools depending on how well you do.

It’s a tricky time, we are trying to balance getting No 1 Cub into a place where he can give his best performance, without putting him under too much pressure. No 1 Cub thinks he can just breeze through, no problem – so why can’t he spend all of his time between now and the exam on X-Box?  It’s so unfair! 

  Do you have plans over the next week or so? I have a couple of things I’m looking forward to. All being well, I will get making my Christmas Cake with my mate. We finally did this last year, after talking about it for maybe the previous three Christmases and we had a hoot. I had the kitchen all decked out like Nigella, and, since we were following her cake recipe, we got dressed up in frocks and pinnies. So far so good. I thought it might be appropriate to have cocktails too, so I made a pitcher full of rocket fuel Espresso Martini.

How we managed to successfully bake two cakes while we were three sheets to the wind is the mystery of last Christmas, but somehow we did. Round two is imminent.

Absolutely lethal Espresso Martini!

It’s actually not a bad Christmas Cake, under the circumstances

And that’s about it for now. I’ve been thinking about some topics to blog about, but it’ll involve a trip or two to County Antrim, Mr Plot will need to make sure his visa is up to date, they may not let a Bangorian in. Maybe I’ll try a post in proper Ulster-Scots someday too, see if any of you can understand it.

Plot x

          If we were having coffee… 25/10/19 If we were having coffee this week, first of all, how are you? I probably haven't seen you in ages.