#not edited might spell check in the morning

[alittlesongbirdchirps]

OOOH DEATH, I MEAN DICK GRAYSON.

(I know Death already has a personification of a female in DC but pretend they don’t for this AU.)

Death wasn’t a skeleton with a robe made of black or a scythe. Death was more of the delivery person and sometimes could end life with one simple touch.

One day, life, bored from existing since the beginning, challenged death to a game.

“Since you are so cold and indifferent to those whom you take, why don’t you experience what they do? Why don’t you leave?”

It was an intriguing proposal for death, who had never really cared too much for life’s creations. Only a few small and innocent ones ever got a soft and caring voice from death.

“Death cannot be around the living, nor touch it.”

Life smiled softly.

“Maybe for a time it can, a short time, but enough to learn why death is so frightening to those who live.”

Death agreed to this game, and life constructed death a body that death wouldn’t be able to use its power, not unless it truly wanted to.

The body would be more like a vessel to contain death; if death used any hint of power, the body would begin to crack, almost like ice.

And thus Dick Grayson was born; of course, Dick didn’t know the requirement to live was to not know what was waiting on the other side.

But then Jason died, and when Dick returned from space, he sat at Jason’s grave. He didn’t get to say goodbye; he was angry with himself, angry with Bruce, and furious with the Joker.

“He can’t be dead. I didn’t—

His train of thought stops. ‘He didn’t what?’ He wonders why he lost his train of thought.

Jason ended up being alive, a miracle, but then after that so much happened.

Like John Constantine, a man he only heard tales of, stops dead in his tracks when he sees Dick, and he looks terrified. Normally, heroes find comfort in his presence and enjoy his company, but Dick didn’t even get to speak before Constantine disappeared, and Jason ended up laughing along with Tim and Steph, whereas Damien stated, ‘Constantine is a fool Grayson, a drunken fool; don’t mind him.’

And weird stuff like that kept happening. The weirdest one was when Darkside came, a being who represented death, but when Dick finally arrived right before Darkside prepared to kill Captain Marvel, Darkside paused, looking around almost in disbelief and confusion before dropping Captain Marvel and, funnily enough, quickly leaving.

Yet Dick still didn't connect anything or question it, but Tim and Duke began to.

(Dick sort of doesn’t remember what he truly is, and this is more of a game playing human but he feels and knows things deep down like Jason was supposed to die and stay dead, and Dick didn’t want to be close to him because some part on a deeper leveled remember that, and then when Jason died the human part was angry allowing a small part of his true self to leak through creating a small crack, so when he trails off he almost was gonna say I didn’t take him, and his close relationship with Damien because of the Lazarus pit he can sense that in Damien blood practically even though he doesn’t know it, Constantine dipping compared to other magic users like Zatanna is because the others don’t know and most people when they die, find death peaceful so that and Dicks charming personality is why heroes and others like him all find themself comfortable around Dick. whereas Constantine is different when he dies it won’t be peaceful he will be in hell, so he feels overwhelming death instead of happy vibes.)

This was just another silly idea.

(NOT EDITED LOL, SORRY FOR SPELLING MISTAKES, ME SICK TOO.)

[crybaby-writings]

STOP GUILT TRIPPING PEOPLE WHEN YOU MAKE POSTS ABOUT IMPORTANT TOPICS

i've included 2 largely used examples of what i mean, that make you sound like a huge dick, and why

"if you fucking care about (blank)" stop. being agressive is not going to get people to listen or share the information you are telling them

"if you don't share/reblog this im going to assume you don't care about (blank)" people are not required to interact with things to "prove" they care about a topic, it can be important to them without being guilt tripped into it

trying to force people to interact with you, or guilt tripping them into sharing/interacting with activism of any kind is not only indirectly proformative, but it's fucking rude. people are not required to publicly share how they feel on topics, or share/reblog posts to prove that something is important to them. stop. stop doing this. it helps literally no one to do this.

forced activism is proformative activism

[dwtdog]

My work for Project: End Poem :D

i like this player / it played well / it did not give up

I like this player.

Dream’s shitty apartment is too small for pacing, but he does it anyway. Back and forth and back and forth over and over, the sounds of his footsteps drowned out by the buzz of his thoughts.

He’s felt out of balance for a while now- ever since he uploaded that first video. Before (before before before) everything was planning and studying and notes and calls with anyone he could get to agree to it. And then it had become filming and editing and that eternal moment before he pushed the button that would make the video public. A beginning. And an ending, of the before. 

Planning had felt real. He could scroll through the words upon words stored in documents, or even rifle through the notebook he kept on his desk, the pages soft and well-used in his hands, his writing jumbled and messy. But the numbers now- they feel like a dream, almost fittingly. Climbing impossibly higher every time he checks, far surpassing any expectation he’d had. 

But they can’t be real, because he can’t pay his rent this month.

His savings have run dry, exactly in the amount of time he’d predicted they would. It had been more than enough time. But he can’t pay rent.

His parent's words echo in his head- if you do this, you won’t be moving back in with us. That had certainly lit a fire under his ass- prove them wrong, prove everyone wrong. But the time is ticking down, and he can’t pay rent.

Oh, sure, the money’s on the way. His first check from YouTube, delayed by paperwork, is more than enough to cover this month’s and the next. But it’s not here. And the numbers keep going up, but Dream’s life is the same. Same shitty apartment, same 24 hours in a day.

His laptop sits open on his bed, and he’s doing his best to avoid looking at it. The looping screensaver plays on repeat, catching in the corner of his eye when he passes it, and he has half a mind to close the damn thing, end its taunting. Oh, you thought you could make something of yourself online? Think again. 

He freezes in the middle of the room so abruptly that he nearly falls forward with the momentum of it. 

And before he can talk himself out of it, he scoops the laptop up and enters his password, starting a Teamspeak call before all but running to his desk to grab headphones and returning to sit on his bed with the laptop balanced on his thighs, the call initiating. 

This is a familiar action- late night (early morning?) calls with friends. Dream has never been shy about asking his friends for input on ideas, or thoughts of their own, especially his friends who are well-established in the field he wants to play. It's them he has to thank for a large part of his motivation. And it's them he calls on now, when his mind spells doom and his circumstances feel suffocating.

“Dream?” a voice asks, marred by digital interference but comforting all the same.

Dream smiles at the screen. “Bad,” he says. “I might need your help.”

“New video idea?” Bad asks, and the quality of the call seems to settle, Bad’s voice far clearer. He yawns, and Dream makes a point of not looking at the time. 

“Not quite,” Dream mumbles.

“What was that?”

“It’s not a video idea. Or anything similar,” he swallows. As confident as Dream is in his friends, money is a different matter. Can ruin lives, friendships, and especially new YouTube channels if one isn’t careful.

Bad hums reassuringly. “Whatever it is, you can ask. I can’t guarantee that I can help but it never hurts to ask.”

“You’re so wise Bad,” Dream jokes. “And old.” He feels himself relaxing, and in tandem, his mind clears. 

“Aren’t you asking for my help? I could leave right now.”

“No, no! I’m sorry, You’re not old,” Dream says quickly, adding not that old to himself. 

“That’s what I thought,” Bad says smugly, and Dream can hear his chair squeaking and imagines him leaning back in it with his arms crossed, although, strangely, his minds eye seems to envision Bad as a the shape of a person with his Minecraft character overlaid, rather than the very real person Dream knows Bad to be, and has seen on video. He’s been spending too much time inside- it’d be good to get out once the rent issue is solved.

“Well,” Dream starts. “I told you about my problems getting money from YouTube, right?” 

“You did.”

Dream sighs, thinking of all the trouble it’d been so far just to get the first check. “Well, it’s still not here. And my rent is due in a few days, and if it doesn’t get here in time I’m- I’m out of luck. And money.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Dream, you muffinhead, how much do you need?”

And Dream giggles, the small smile on his face growing impossibly bigger as he tells Bad the amount, and as they go back and forth on whether Bad should just send the money right away (Dream argues that there’s still a chance the money could come in time, while Bad says he might as well just send it now- just in case).

In the end, they hang up the call a half hour later, Dream’s worries assuaged and with a promise to Bad that he’d tell him immediately if he’ll need the money.

And when Dream wakes up the next day to a check from YouTube deposited in his account, it’s not just Bad who joins a call to celebrate with him- George and Sapnap are there too, and finally, finally, everything feels real.

It played well

“That was perfect!” his instructor says, and Dream smiles before slouching against the wall, entirely out of breath.

No one ever told him dancing would be so hard.

Well, some had. His instructor, the nice lady who now hands him a water bottle and tells him to take a small break, had warned him plenty. But he’d foolishly thought she was only saying it as a courtesy, so he’d have an excuse if he struggled- and boy, did he. 

Maybe it was a consequence of being locked inside for years, or maybe it was just his natural affinity for clumsiness. 

Either way, he’d been preparing for his concert for a few weeks now, and it feels like he’s hardly improved. Between vocal coaching and dance lessons- ‘choreography’ he insists when George and Sapnap tease- it had been nonstop learning and working in LA. Away from his cat, and his house, and his friends. And content. 

But the smile doesn’t fade from his face even as he finishes off the water and steps away from the wall to stretch, arms over his head and legs extended until he’s balancing on his toes. And the burn of his muscles is so good. 

A physical reminder of his work, his improvement. Sure, he’s still not the best, but he’s gotten better. And his future spells more lessons, more growth, until finally, finally-

He steps on the stage in a mask.

Orlando. Home. Lights and screaming and music, counting down and counting in. And he’s more nervous than he’s ever been, because finally, finally, finally, the numbers are real.

It did not give up.

Code is swimming in front of Dream’s eyes like a school of fish, and his head is aching something dreadful, but he refuses to look away from his monitor.

He doesn’t know what the time is- sure that if he did check, he’d have some sort of crisis. Every other member of his (albeit small) team went to sleep hours ago, the project left in lines of unfinished code and an increasingly bizarre contraption sprouting from the gym floor.

But Dream, better than anyone, knows how close they are. 

Testing earlier had gone well- messing with particle mechanics and getting the shape so, so close. But something in the actual imaging kept going wrong, so they’d called it for the day. 

And Dream had tried to sleep, really. But every moment lying in bed felt like time he could be using to work, and sleep was elusive. So he’d ended up back at his computer. Alone in the dead of night.

The world fades away around him as he works, until he falls asleep at his desk- keyboard an unfortunate pillow. He wakes with the letters imprinted on his cheeks, and code he doesn’t remember writing. But it looks good. It looks complete and promising and so full of potential that Dream is out of his chair and heading across the house to the gym before the indents of his keycaps have faded from his skin.

George is in the kitchen.

“Dream?” he asks, setting a yogurt cup down. “You’re up early.”

A glance at the clock on the oven tells Dream it’s nearly three in the afternoon. “I want to try something,” he says. “You wanna come with?”

George nods, following him out of the house and to the gym, yawning several times as they go. 

“You’ve got something on your face by the way,” George giggles, but it quickly turns to a frown. “Did you sleep at your desk?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Dream grumbles, pushing the door to the gym open and flicking the lights on. George snorts.

They’re quiet as Dream fiddles with the mess of a contraption in the middle of the room. He’s careful with it, always so careful, and George watches from the sides. When everything is in place, Dream’s hands are shaking with excitement. There’s something in the air that tastes like success.

“Do you want to go in?” he asks, gesturing between the machine and George. George shrugs, then nods, careful as he ducks into the contraption. “Okay just- I think it’s going to work.”

“Really?” George asks, and for as much as he teases Dream about deadlines, for as often as Dream is wrong, it sounds like he believes it too.

Dream can’t speak in the moment, so he just nods.

They’ve got a PC set up in the gym, and he turns to it, loading into the server they use for all testing of FUSION. He’s alone in the world, for the moment, the rig George stands in waiting to be called on by a command.

Dream types it in, having to go back and re-enter the letters several times with his hands still unsteady. And when everything is ready, he pauses before hitting enter, looking up to meet George’s eyes.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Ready.” George responds, bouncing on his feet. “What do I say? Hello world?”

“You’re so dumb,” Dream snorts. He doesn’t look away from George as he presses the final key, watching the flickering lights of the machinery, scared to look at the screen and see if he’s done it. 

“Stop being an idiot.” George says after a beat, waving his arms and looking pointedly at the monitor. 

Dream takes a breath, releases it. Turns his head.

And there it is.

George, in stunning resolution for being projected into fucking Minecraft, waving at him.

He looks between the two. Looks again. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “We did it.”

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟳: 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗹𝘆 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗳𝘁

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a cute little shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work.  📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁��𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. not beta read. witchcraft. familiars. cunnilngus. aphrodisiacs. inherent dubcon. vaginal sex. unsafe sex. sudden orgasm? desperation. coming inside. vague structure and explanation of magic. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: pierre gasly x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: need to know • doja cat

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: inspired by amortentia. what can i say at every fanfic writer's core, they’ve read an unhealthy amount of hp ff’s, i don’t make up the rules. we know pierre is a fiend, but uh, i do not even feel like i truly tapped into his true unhinged power with this. n joy, loves !!!

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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

the shop has been open for fifty-five minutes and it’s already been overwhelmed by desperate humans. valentine’s day is tomorrow; and every naive soul is scrambling to get a love charm or potion. the problem with that is: there’s no magic spell or potion able to mirror true love. however, nobody coming into the shop appreciates that answer. 

after the third time a customer hysterically screamed at you for saying there’s no such thing as a ‘love spell,’ you made a slight tweak to the doorbell. now, every time the door opens a bass-boosted audio of you screaming, “LOVE POTIONS, CHARMS, OR SPELLS DO NOT EXIST” echoed through the shop. unfortunately, that message did not seem to help. you had to change the way you welcomed customers when they stepped up to the counter.

“good morning! welcome in to runes and brews; if you’re looking for a spell of true love, it doesn’t exist. nor does a potion or charm. the most i can offer is a hyperfixation charm, which makes the subject pay more attention to you for twelve hours. this charm doesn’t affect their emotions, you still have to make them attracted to you with your, hopefully, natural charm. are you interested in one, they’re buy-one-get-one free for valentine’s day?”

your customer service grimace smile is stained across your lips as you parrot the same words to each customer. you’ve become an npc. the customers try to interrupt your spiel, but you act as if it’s a piece of unskippable dialogue. if they’re going to come here and harass you over their inability to rizz somebody up—they’re sure as hell going to listen when you speak. at this point, you’ve adopted the ‘it is what it is’ mentality. you’re selling a record number of hyper-fixation charms, you think you might run out of your entire supply hours before the store closes. 

at first, you felt a little guilty about selling these charms to the desperate souls. all they want is true love and you can only offer a temporary fix. but after you’ve been screamed at countless times for telling these non-magiques that you can’t supply them with what they’re asking for, the guilt quickly transforms to ‘idgaf.’ with a twitching eye, you kindly told the customers inside the store to wait just a few seconds while you adjusted the door’s charm. 

you grab the outer doorknob with a hand covered in lapis powder, and imbue it with your aura to edit the current protection spell. thankfully, you remembered to meditate this morning, so casting comes easily. you breathe deeply, before releasing the handle and you make your way back towards the customers. and suddenly, the amount of people entering the shop decreases dramatically.

you have such a manic grin on your face that the customers inside the building stare at you in mild terror. one of the humans swallows their fear, and asks the question they’re all afraid to hear the answer to, “w-what did you do to the uh- to the d-door?”

the lights brighten around you as your grin grows larger, and you nonchalantly answer, “the door reads your intentions before you step inside. if a customer plans to come in and harass me over what is magically impossible, they get cursed.”

the humans gasp in fear, and you’re eyes widen in realization, “oh! no-no, don’t worry, it’s nothing bad! it’s just a floating rose that screams out ‘i have no rizz’ to every person they talk to for the next forty-eight hours. they’ve ruined their own valentine’s day with their terrible manners,” you state proudly.

the mass of customers inside thins out pretty quickly after that. 

thankfully, the door charm seems to do the trick with keeping out unruly folks. you’re able to start working on requests from your usual customers—the barkeep needs her rune for a bottomless keg replenished, the butcher needs his new set of utensils charmed with sharpness, the baker’s assistant needs your help working on the heating charm for the warming-tables, and so on and so forth. you get a new vampire customer today, requesting a sunshade potion—they indulge in telling you that they’re planning to spend valentine’s day outside with their human partner as a surprise. you coo at the vampire adorably as you check them out, and you see their cheeks faintly tint with pink—they must have fed recently. this is why being open for valentine’s day is worth it to you; customers like this remind you that true love still exists.

you wish him luck with his surprise, and hand over the potion, which was made by your true love, pierre. who was supposed to be helping you in the shop about thirty minutes ago. he claimed to have to run out and get a few extra supplies to be able to fulfill all of his orders, but that he’d be back before the shop opened. when he shows his face, the true love between you two may not exist anymore. because you’re going to kill him for hanging you out to dry. you sigh, and make your way into the back storage closet to get a fresh box of dried peonies for the new batch of hyperfixation charms, when you hear the doorbell scream the warning message.

you call-out, “give me one moment and i’ll be right up to help you out! feel free to look around in the meantime!” you summon the box of peonies forward, and spell it to float after you as you make your way out.

turning the corner, you automatically begin your npc introduction, “good morning! welcome in to runes and brews; if you’re looking for a spell of true love, it doesn’t exist. nor does a potion or charm. the most i can offer is a hyperfixation charm—oh, it’s just you—ohmygod—how did you pick up my door curse??”

pierre stares at you in a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, as the rose screams “I HAVE NO RIZZ,” at you. you can only laugh, and summon your phone to your hand to take a video. pierre laughs in reflex, still not sure what’s going on, and suddenly he’s being climbed over like a cat tree by your familiar.

“aha!” you exclaim. “i’ve been looking for you all day, ma’am. what pocket of the universe were you hiding in? you always disappear when the non-magiques come around instead of defending me, cat. what kind of familiar are you?”

pierre struggles to wrangle cat off of his head from where she’s fucking up the rose hanging over him. he side-eyes you heavily when he still sees you recording the whole interaction, and you put the phone down before you step over to get cat off of his head. “madame catalytic converter!” you yell with the force of your ancestors.

yes, you named your familiar catalytic converter, cat for short. it makes perfect sense, she improves your efficiency and decreases the chance for any harmful side-effects when you do magic; just like the car part. pierre says that’s why she never listens to you, for giving her a terrible name. when you asked him what he would’ve named her, he said, “probably, escargot, or something.” you said that’s probably why she hates him more. 

you remove the curse from pierre with a quick touch of your hand to his forehead, and the rose poofs away. madame catalytic converter, hops away quickly, uninterested in either of you again, and struts away to sit on top of the box of peonies you brought up. you narrow your eyes at your familiar, “oh—so you’re not even going to explain yourself? where were you?”

cat stares at you dead in the eyes, before she looks away and starts licking her calico fur clean, dismissing you. you scoff, rolling your eyes, and turn to pierre, “and where were you, monsieur?” you ask, poking a finger to his chest. 

pierre presses a kisses to your cheek in greeting, and raises the one bag he has in his hand as part of his answer, “i told you i was running errands, remember?”

you purse your lips at him, and he smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your waist to try and pull you in for a kiss. you smack your teeth disapprovingly, gripping his jaw with your hand, and holding him back, “yeah, you told me you were getting extra supplies. plural. and, that you’d be back in time to open the shop.”

pierre avoids your eyes, chuckling anxiously. 

“i’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but, you’ve only come back with one item, and it’s well past the time the shop opened,” you pause, letting pierre simmer, “explain yourself.”

“okaysoilied,” pierre rushes out, and you hum in shock sarcastically, gesturing for him to continue, “but—but! mon amour, i’ve come back with something that could potentially level up my potion making skills!”

you stare at him unamused, “oh ok—well, show me, what is this wonderful thing?”

pierre shifts on his feet, and you are suddenly afraid to know what he’s bought. if his confidence is faltering, you know whatever’s in that bag cannot be good. 

“so, you remember how people were saying the potion shop a few towns over has actual love potions,” pierre starts eagerly, you nod in resignation, already knowing where this is going, “i bought one! well, two actually. i tried to bug the potion maker into telling me what he put in it, but he was so shifty about it. which is completely understandable, if i made a new potion as great as this, i wouldn’t tell anybody my secrets either.”

“okay, pierre,” you sigh, rubbing a hand across your face, disappointed, “why did you buy two of them?”

“oh,” pierre begins, his usual ludicrous smirk returning to his expression, “one for me to study, and one for me to take! the best way to see if it works is to test it out myself.”

you tug his hand off your waist, and step away from him, pointing at him in vindication, “that’s why my curse worked on you! you’re harassing me with this goddamn love-potion shit—you snake, we both know it’s not real!”

pierre groans, following after you as you storm back to the front counter, the peony box floating over as well, cat yowling at the sudden movement. 

“oh, come on, mon amour,” pierre pleads, brandishing the love potion at you, “where is your hunger for magical breakthroughs? aren’t you curious to learn how it works?”

“pierre, babe, it doesn’t work! that’s why i don’t care! and, why would it work on you? we’re already a true love’s match. we’re soul-tied!”

“so, there’s no harm in me taking it,” pierre claims, like he’s found a loophole. 

“pierre, you shouldn’t,” you warn him. the potions master deflates at your words, and you sigh at the sight of his point. you take a few steps to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss, and your aura swells with pierre’s love passing to you.

“if you do end up taking it, which you probably will anyways, at least take the time to properly study it. you don’t know if they’re any weird side effects,” pierre perks up, his blue-green eyes losing their saddened look immediately. he happily presses a few more kisses to your lips, and pulls away before pressing a kiss to your hand.

“i will! i’m going to go to the back now and start studying it—“

“uhm, no you are not! you still have to help me run this store, sir! i have plenty of things for you to do. starting with cleaning our cauldrons!”

pierre groans in disgust and whines like a child, “mon amour! please, you know i hate doing that. you can do it with a snap of your fingers, why do i have to do it with manual labor?”

you arch a sharp brow at him, and gently remind him of his behavior, “you shouldn’t have lied to me then, hm?” pierre sulks, and moves towards the back to get started on cleaning the cauldrons.

“don’t look so sad—i could’ve had you collecting the eyes of spiders!”

pierre cringes when he accidentally slams the drawer of his desk closed, pausing cautiously to listen for any movement in the house. it’s late, and you’ve gone to bed hours ago; he’s stayed up trying to identify what exactly this so-called love potion is made out of, and what order of processes it was created with. the frenchman is certain that there are at least seven ingredients in the brew: mature peonies, smashed pearls, crushed dates, powdered rose thorns, rose water, and a potion base of moonstone and lapis. it’s odd, because to pierre the potion smells like warmed vanilla, shea butter, a dash of espresso, and a brush of peppermint—but with every extraction he makes from the potion, there’s no sign of those ingredients. in addition to that mystery, he can tell that this potion took a few weeks to prepare and that it needed constant stirring. he can figure out when ingredients were added to the potion based on how much affect the cooking and heat had on them; the dates and pearls were first, followed by the rose thorns, and it seems like the peonies were added last—he just can’t figure out how they were integrated in the brew. were they added in batches, all at once, did they need changes in stirring motion, etc.. 

putting aside all the unknowns, there is one thing that pierre is sure of: none of the ingredient combinations in this potion would cause any harmful side effects. the powdered rose thorns and crushed pearls are a rare sight in potions but, they create the base of hyperfixation charms and he hasn’t heard of any reports of strange or harmful reactions from these two ingredients. so, the only responsible option for the potions master is to drink the concoction and see if it lives up to be the ‘true love’ potion everyone is claiming it to be.

pierre knocks the draft back quickly and hums pleasantly at the taste, a curious eyebrow raised at how it doesn’t mirror the scent at all. the flavor is sweet and tangy, with a lingering dash of saltiness—it’s delicious. he finds himself wishing he didn’t waste the first potion with experiments so he could taste it again. 

the potions master rocks back and forth on his feet impatiently, he expected the brew to take immediate effect, alas, he feels nothing. pierre shrugs, the potion may take longer to kick in if it’s replicating one of the strongest emotions. he leaves his study and makes his way to the bedroom, and right before he enters the bedroom, he stumbles over cat. your familiar looks at him reproachfully, before she pauses and comes over to sniff at pierre. in the dark, he can see the calico’s eyes shrink into pupils and suddenly she hisses up at him, before she apparates into thin air. pierre scratches at his scalp in a confused manner; cat hissing at him and then disappearing, is not out of the ordinary (it reminds him of the you first brought him home and he tried to charm her with a laser pointer—the familiar stared at pierre like he disparaged her family name), he doesn’t know if that was a reaction just because of him, or if it was a reaction to the potion. 

he continues with his usual nightly routine before he joins you in bed, dressed in a pair of old sweatpants alone. you pout in your sleep, pierre can feel your aura calling to him, unhappy that he’s not curled up against you. he tucks you into his chest when he settled comfortably on his back. he feels your magic calm, the air relaxing when the force of your influence fades. 

the potions master tries to stay up for as long as he can to see if he notices an effect from the brew, but deflates when he doesn’t feel any changes. he knows the chances of this potion working was slim to none, however, he kind of hoped it at least had some effect on him. pierre’s eyes flutter shut as he drifts to sleep, and his last conscious thought is that you were probably right, the potion may not have an effect on true love’s matches.

you squirm awake. it’s boiling hot under the sheets and it shouldn’t be, you placed a cooling charm on the bed. as the fog of sleep unfortunately fades from your mind, you notice that the heat is radiating from pierre. turning around in worry and slight annoyance, you check in on your boyfriend, and the annoyance disappears when you examine his state.

he’s still asleep, but he’s drenched in sweat. his brow is furrowed in what must be pain, and his body squirms across the bed in discomfort. you press a hand to his forehead and hiss at the burning heat from his skin. you groan, already knowing what happened to your dumb potions master—he should be stripped of his title after this. he was working on the damn potion before you went to bed, and he fucking drank it, ignoring your warning, and now, he’s suffering the consequences. you take the same hand that was on his head, and bring it to his shoulder to gently shake him awake. pierre, on the other hand, awakens dramatically, jackknifing upright like you’ve poured water all over him.

the man pants desperately, chest heaving with his stuttering breaths, tongue swiping at his upper lip to clear the sweat gathering there, his teal irises swallowed by enlarged pupils, and his hair is matted and curling against his forehead from the mixture of sweat and heat. his eyes are glazed over, you can tell he’s not quite aware of what’s going on—that’s probably thanks to the incredible fever he’s running—but there’s a hidden glint to them that you can’t puzzle out. 

“oh, pierre,” you lean forward, hands coming to grasp at the sides of his face, steadying him, “you fucked around and found out, didn’t you? there’s no chance you’re capable of telling me the antidote to this, it seems. maybe a spell can alleviate the effects briefly enough…”. as you ramble on, mostly to yourself, you fail to see the look in pierre’s eyes change. the hidden intentions you weren’t able to make out are as clear as day now. the haze over his stare is still present, but the confusion has disappeared. only hunger remains.

you startle when pierre’s trembling hands grasp at your waist. you quirk a brow at him in question, but don’t receive an answer, a verbal one at least. you’re suddenly knocked flat on your back and pierre bodily shoves himself between your legs, hovering over you. and the intense look in his eyes is made aware to you; you’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt this ravenous. you press your eyelids closed and whimper under your breath at your revelation: the ‘true love’ potion is a fucking aphrosodiac.

pierre is so hot. he feels his body shivering dramatically as he holds himself on his hands above you. his muscles weaken from the strain of the fever, and he collapses on top of you. his head lands in the valley of your neck, and he moans at the cooling feeling of your brown skin against his face—he needs more of it, he needs you naked. reinvigorated, pierre attempts to wrangle your clothes off, but he’s unable to do much with his shaky limbs. he begins to anger when your sleep shirt fails to disappear, and tries to rip it down the center. you force his hands away, and tug the shirt up and away before tossing it aside, leaving you in just panties. his anger dissipates, and he presses his body against yours again, and a choked groan escapes him at the relief your naked torso gives him, he goes boneless. 

the relief lasts for less than a minute, before he starts squirming desperately again—he needs to be closer to you. he suckles marks into your neck, moaning lewdly when he feels your hand tangle in his hair, pulling at it firmly. he fights your grasp, unsatisfied with his unfinished claim on your neck and chest, but he submits when he notices you’re guiding him to your lips. 

the meeting of your lips is messy, he can’t manage to find any of his usual finesse. he pants into your mouth in between sloppy, wet kisses, if you can even call them that. his tongue fights against yours, and his hips buck forward at the feeling, which reminds him of the fact that he still has sweatpants on and you have on panties. pierre jerks away, resisting the urge to continue kissing you when you whine out for him so prettily, chest arching upwards, nipples perky and egging him to bite, the bruises on your neck blossoming with reds and purples—he shakes his head erratically, and focuses enough to tug his sweatpants off; he’s never been so happy that he’s not wearing underwear. the skin contact must have done him well, because his hands aren’t shaking anymore as they grasp at your panties. he may not have torn apart your shirt, but the cotton undergarment doesn’t stand a chance, he rips through it like water.

the sound of your shriek at his actions is muted in his ears, and he barely registers the feeling of you shoving at his shoulder in irritation. pierre can only see your pussy. a broken whimper escapes him as he stares; his eyes tunnel to your throbbing hooded clit, the way your entrances tightens and relaxes, like you’re taunting him to fill you up, and you’re soaked for him, lips shining with your wetness—he should just get a brief taste, before he fucks you. he lays between your legs, hands coming around to grip at your thighs to firmly hold you against his mouth, and he’s eating you out like he’s never had a meal before.

the potions master vaguely hears a pleasure-filled scream burst from your chest as he broadly strokes of his tongue against your vulva to collect any wetness you’ve spilled. he muffles his moan into your pussy at the taste, and shifts downward to prod his tongue inside of you to coax more of your juices out. he feels your hips try to buck him off of you, and he growls into you, tightening his grip on your thighs to allow you no escape. you leak steadily into his mouth, even as you try to run from the constant barrage of his lips, tongue, and teeth. pierre’s brow furrows with the effort he puts into eating you out—your taste is addicting. it’s a mouthwatering combination of sweet and tangy, with lingering saltiness. he has a small lapse of deja-vu at your flavor, but it’s quickly dismissed at the drag of his cock against the bed. 

pierre whimpers into you at the pleasure flaring behind his eyelids, as he begins to hump against the bed. he switches from forcing his tongue inside of you and moves his attention to your clit, suckling and twirling his tongue on the button. it sounds like he’s making out with your cunt. your thighs to clamp shut around his head, your hand scrambles to tug at his hair and hold him exactly where you want him, and you start rubbing your pussy against him. fuck, how did he not realize how hard he is. pierre sobs into your pussy overwhelmed, he wants to keep eating you out, and the friction of his cock against the bed feels so good. he knows being inside of you would be better.

the frenchman breaks free from the grasp of your legs, and scrambles back upwards, not giving you time to register the change in position before he breaches your entrance. when the head of his cock pops inside of you, he throws his head back and moans erotically at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. he starts to burn hotter. pierre struggles to hold-off from thrusting into you in one smooth motion—he’s usually cautious when he fucks into you for the first time because he’s well aware of his size and how you struggle to take it all in one sitting. he whimpers hotly, and picks his head up to look at you—and all sense of waiting for you to adjust leaves him head. a line of drool has slid down your cheek, your eyes have rolled back in pleasure, and the sounds of your squeals of pleasure from just the tip of his cock break his restraint.

the man drives his cock deep inside of you in one smooth thrust, and he shudders on top of you, humming in satisfaction at the pulsing grasp of your cunt. pierre feels how he forced the air out of your lungs, your corresponding scream still rattling in his eardrums, but he can’t help how he grinds his cock into you, one, two, three times. he groans out, and starts making proper thrusts into you—he needs to fuck you properly. one of your hands sneaks between your joined bodies and presses at his navel in a weak attempt to halt his movements. pierre knocks it out of the way, before he brings both of his hands to tighten on your waist and starts fucking you with a purpose. it’s selfish and dirty; in a way pierre usually isn’t. he uses himself as a tool to make you cum first all of the time, but you can tell tonight, this is all about him—your orgasm is just a byproduct. he gathers you up in his arms, making sure there’s no gap of air in between you, and starts pumping his hips into you deeply, not pulling out of you any more than a few centimeters.

it’s feels so pleasurable that it could be torture. he’s applying pressure against that spongy spot on your walls so consistently, that you’re legs have already started shaking. he’s fucking you up the bed with the force of his thrust, and he’s conscious enough to place a hand on the headboard to make sure he doesn’t shove you up to hit your head. pierre’s making these sweet, whiny, whimpers, that he attempts to muffle into your neck as he feels himself start pulsating inside of you, dancing along the edge. he feels your nails claw into his back, and it’s like his senses are suddenly returned to full strength from where they were clogged with fuzz. he can hear you try and moan out for him, but his thrusts are so powerful that you keep choking on your words.

he catches the ending of your warning, “pierre-oh—m’ gonna cum! oh, fuck!”

the clenching of your orgasm pushes him into his own, and it’s the most intense crash of pleasure he’s ever felt. his vision whites out and it feels painful in a way only too much pleasure can give. his whole body shakes through each wave of pleasure, and he feels lightheaded at the feeling. pierre can’t even do anything more than jerk his hips forward to pump through the aftershocks, he falls limp on top of you, pinning you under him. his skin feels raw and blown open, and there’s a ringing noise in his ears. he whimpers against your neck, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and then he’s pretty sure he faints for a few minutes.

when he comes back to the present, you’re humming underneath him, hands rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion. pierre brokenly moans against your throat, oversensitive. you shush him, and scratch at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes but won’t admit to. his breaths slowly even out against your skin, and in a croaky voice he starts talking, “the potion—it smelled like the shea butter of your lotion, the vanilla and coffee of your perfume, and the peppermint of your aura.”

you pause in your motions, and softly ask, “really?”

pierre shifts, hissing at the jostling of his cock still inside of you, and settles again, raising his head up to make lazy eye contact with you, “yeah,” he whispers quietly, before carefully pulling out of you and falling onto his stomach next to you.

you nuzzle up to his side and press kisses against his shoulder, before you offhandedly mention that his fever’s gone down. pierre’s fighting the call of sleep, and mumbles something into the pillow that you can’t make out, and he turns his head to the side so you can hear him, “i dunno how, mon amour, but it tasted like you too.”

you stare at him with wide eyes, neither of you are aware of an aphrodisiac of this caliber. pierre falls asleep, and you close your eyes in a quick prayer—this potion better have run its course, you won’t survive another round of that.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

© httpsserene 2023

[xxnashiraxx]

With Stars to Fill My Dream (10) - Let the Dystopian Morning Light Pour In

EVERYBODY!!! 🖤🖤 We've made it to Chapter 10!! I am so happy we've gotten this far! I don't think I've ever made it this far with my writing, and I'm really proud of myself and my perseverance- I care so much about this story and its characters, and I have so much more material written with no end to my inspiration and motivation in sight! I hope this train keeps rolling full steam ahead because I've made so many friends on this journey and I wouldn't be here without them! 🖤🖤

Anyway, I'll quit my yapping so you can enjoy the chapter! Please see some bonus screenshots below!

(P.S. The screenshots are meant to be enjoyed from afar because my editing stuff is not so good. 🖤🖤)

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 9,053

Opening under the cut!

Their group scatters to the winds to check out stalls and mill about as Ofelia and Alfira discuss a few lessons she can learn right away. Wyll and Lae’zel join Karlach and they descend to the blacksmith’s area, Astarion hangs off to the side, not quite in the circle with the two bards but not a part of it. Gale and Shadowheart head off to the apothecary and general goods vendor for potion ingredients and food supplies and in the meantime, Ofelia learns. She learns until her fingers hurt from overuse and twilight begins to overtake the evening sky. The ache is a pleasant reminder that she’s nailed a few spells, her delight overshadowing any exhaustion.

“Can I try one on you?” Ofelia attempts an icebreaker as she walks up beside Astarion, gesturing to her lute. He’s leaning against the weathered rock with his eyes closed, pretending like he hadn’t heard her. If she can free them from whatever rut it is that they’ve been stuck in, she’d like to try.

“I learned Bardic Inspiration, it might be a good idea to practice my skills-”

“Absolutely not.” He mutters sharply, lids still closed. She frowns.

“You’ve been nothing but cold to me all day. I’m sorry about Shadowheart, but whatever this-” She waves her hand in front of him though he can’t see it. “-is, it’s got to stop. The others are starting to notice.” Her voice is like a blade, slicing through his nonchalant demeanor. His eyes snap open and he glares at her- it makes her flinch gently, and it’s clear he notices.

“Let them,” He turns, walking down the ridge and she follows, anger boiling in her blood.

“What’s going on?” She shouts, grateful to be away from her tiefling teacher as he stalks toward the hillside. “What have I done to you? I’m sorry I almost killed you- I didn’t mean to! I couldn’t control it! What happened from when you left me at the river to this morning? What did I do?” She can’t keep the hot rush of emotion from pouring over her words to coat them in betrayal. What happened? They were conversing so easily yesterday- he’d been a bit bristly about her intentions to provide him with her blood, but she thought they’d at least come to an understanding…

“Nothing!” He growls, throwing his pack down on the ground to stake a claim on the dirt he stands upon. “All you do is suffocate me with your kindness- why? Do you like taking pity on a monster? I hate being treated like a charity case.” She freezes, stiff and stung. When she takes a soft step back, he glares at her and she feels herself shrink.

What spurred this on?

If anyone should be considering themselves a monster, it’s her.

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Eleven

Tim Gutterson x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

Tim Gutterson comes to the unconventional aid of one Elenora Crowder, ward of Art Mullen and daughter of Raylan Givens.

This will be a multi chapter story and will get spicy as it goes. This is a rough draft and only slightly edited for grammar and spelling. Just needed to finally get it out because Tim Gutterson is one of my favorite characters, and there is not nearly enough fanfic for him.

Author Master List

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten

CHAPTER: Eleven

Elenora was happy at this moment. Between her starting work at the school and Tim’s work with the Marshal’s they had little time together over the last bit. Mainly, they had been staying at their respective residences and meeting up for coffee in the morning together, if time allowed. But now, now Tim was spinning her around the dance floor of some dingy bar outside of Lexington. Some of his friends from the army had invited Tim and Elenora out to listen to an Alabama cover band.

When the current song had ended, Tim had dipped Elenora low to the ground. Letting out a laugh, Tim hoisted her back up and put his lips on hers. It all felt like she was a teenager again. Making out on the dance floor.

“GET A ROOM!” Came a shout from one of Tim’s friends and Elenora just laughed as she pulled away from Tim to head back to the table. Tim, however, seemed to have a different idea and instead pulled Elenora back to him and once again claimed her mouth with his own. The kiss was passionate and Elenora felt her knees go weak, but Tim held her to him until finally he pulled his lips off of hers.

The two of them headed back to the table the group was sat at and Tim pulled Elenora into his lap when he sat down. Wrapping his arm around her and setting his hand down on her skirt covered thigh.

“Who would have thought Gutterson would have found someone as crazy as him?” Said one of the guys from across the table.

“You calling me crazy?” Elenora said with a large smile as she reached for her beer.

“Honestly, it is just nice to know you are real. We thought he was making you up. Arresting some naked girl in a fountain and then hooking up with her.”

Elenora looked back at Tim with wide eyes. “Is that what you told them?”

“I might have embellished a little.” Tim said, a sly smile on his face as he grabbed his own beer. He took a swig, and Elenora felt him settle back in his chair.

“As long as you haven’t been showin’ ‘em that picture.”

“Gutterson, you holdin’ out on us?” Another one of the men, Steven, asked with a laugh.

“Ain’t nobody ever gonna see that one but me,” Said Tim. He turned his head and looked at Elenora. The look he was giving her was hard to decipher. She could not quite figure out what he was thinking while he looked at her.

Pulling her eyes away from him, Elenora looked at Tim’s friends. “So you said crazy like him? What kind of stories you got for me?”

It was about an hour later when Elenora, who was dancing with Steven and watched as Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. She did not miss the way he looked at the caller ID and then at her with a frown. After he got off the phone, he made his way down to the dance floor just as the song was ending.

“We gotta’ go. Art called. Your grandfather is hiding out in the vet’s bar and Art and your daddy can’t get in to talk to him.”

“Gotta go to show that super hero card of yours?” Tim’s friend asked.

“Yup.” Tim was holding Elenora’s purse on his arm and used the other to present to Elenora. “I got the tab, so I’m ready to go when you are.”

Elenora took her purse from Tim and smiled at Steven. “Thanks for the dance.”

“Any time. You keep Gutterson in check there okay, it’s nice having him back at the meetings.”

When they hit the interstate, Elenora settled herself against the door so she could look at Tim. “I had fun tonight. Your friends are nice.”

“They’re assholes, but nice assholes at least,” Replied Tim. His left hand gripped the steering wheel. “Sorry, I had to cut it short for work. Was really looking forward to taking you home tonight.”

“Well, we will have a three-hour drive back after this. I’m sure we could make a pit stop somewhere.” Elenora wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Tim just let out a chuckle. “So, how do you wanna play this out when we get there? Am I hiding in the back, or are we coming up with some excuse as to why we are arriving together?”

“Honestly, I was just thinking we tell the truth. We went out with some friends for drinks out of town, and I wasn’t just gonna leave you there.” Tim looked at Elenora. “Honestly, it’s kind of fun watching your daddy squirm. He’s been asking lately if I’ve met this guy of yours. He says he is trying to be good and leave you be. Let you tell him when you’re ready.”

Elenora pulled up a leg and tucked it under herself as she watched Tim. “I’m impressed. He said he would give me some space. Didn’t realize you two were becoming so friendly to one another.”

The rest of the drive was filled with silence and idle chitchat, mostly to keep the both of them awake and focused, and once they got close, Elenora found her palms beginning to sweat and her heart began to beat fast. “Tim, I don’t know if I can do this...”

“If you want to stay in the vehicle, you can. Just climb in the back seat and get some sleep. I saw you driftin’ off over there, as much as I appreciate you stayin’ awake with me. You can rest Nell.”

They were within the town limits now, so Elenora unbuckled her seat belt and slipped through the center and into the back seat. Laying herself down on the fabric, she tucked her arm under her head and sighed. “This is kind of nice, actually.”

“We’re coming up on it now. I’ll try not to be too long.”

“Okay.” Whispered Elenora as she closed her eyes. It was a minute or so later when she felt the vehicle come to a stop and Tim opened the door, hopping out.

She could hear footsteps outside and then Art’s voice. “We interrupt anything?”

“I’ve been off the clock since five, so...”

“You drunk?” Art asked, his voice now sounding further away.

“I was headed in that direction, till this detour...”

Then it was just quiet. The only noises Elenora could hear were the passing vehicles and so she let herself drift away to sleep.

When Art Mullen had gotten up that morning, he decided that unlike every other morning he was going to try something different, there was a coffee shop on the other side of the Marshal’s office that Elenora had told him about. She liked to study there, she said, it had an amazing brown sugar espresso. She thought he would like it, but Art just never seemed to find the time. Today, however, he had decided to find the time. It was early, six am, but Art knew they would be open from his prior conversations with Elenora.

So there he sat in a booth at the back. Coffee cooling on the table and a newspaper fanned out in front of him. He had been focusing on the international news section when he heard Elenora’s laugh echo through the quite busy building. So when he had looked up, he had expected her to be laughing at something the young man behind the counter had said, but instead she was wrapped in his youngest deputy’s arms.

Art picked up the paper in front of him slowly and held it up slightly as to partially cover his face as he watched the two. He could only see Tim’s back, but he knew it was him, by the hair, stature and pistol at the man’s hip. Elenora was leaning against his side, her head on his shoulder, and his arm was resting along her back and hip. She had a large briefcase bag on her shoulder, signaling she must be on her way to work. Art watched as they waited in line, talking to each other in what appeared to be easy conversation. When they turned to head to the pickup counter, Art raised the paper and instead watched their reflection in the large windows of the shop. He watched as Elenora stood herself chest to chest with Tim and the two kissed, with Tim’s hands moving to the back of her neck.

So this was it, he thought, the great mystery of who Elenora was seeing. He knew he should not be surprised. He had a feeling something was happening ever since the night Elenora was attacked in the parking lot. Leslie had told him when Tim dropped Elenora off, he had stuck around for a bit, sitting on the bed and just watching her sleep. She had said it was the way Tim brushed the hair out of Elenora’s face that told her that Tim was in love with her. Art wondered for how long it had been happening, and how they had been able to keep it so hidden, considering they had no qualms about going out in public together.

When Tim had shown up drunk and seemed not too keen on the fact he had been disturbed, Art wondered if that meant he had been spending the evening with Elenora. The young mans plaid shirt open, revealing his undershirt, was an unkempt, relaxed look Art was not used to seeing. That was a thought for later, however, as the three Marshal’s sat themselves down at Arlo Givens table.

“How did you get in?” Arlo asked as he eyed Raylan.

“Deputy Gutterson served in Afghanistan.” Raylan said simply as he motioned to Tim. Art watched the way Tim’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the older man.

“He a mess-hall cook?” Arlo asked with a laugh.

Leaning back in his chair matched Arlo’s stare. “Sniper in the Rangers.”

Arlo looked Tim over. “So, he’s the shit. The Afghan war, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” Tim replied.

“Yes, sir. I like that. Yes, sir.” Arlo spoke, his voice sounding somewhat amiable but also mocking. “So, what can I do for ya’ll?”

“We’re interested in Boyd Crowder.” Art began.

“Isn’t he out in the woods, uh, running a revival or something?” Arlo asked as he sat back in his seat.

Art leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “Yeah, but we want to know if he’s helping Bo Crowder and if Bo’s reestablishing his business.”

Arlo just scuffed. “Why would I know any of that?”

“Because you ran Bo’s protection-and-collection business while he was in prison.” Raylan said simply, as if it was well known news.

“I what?” The sarcasm rolled off Arlo in waves, and Art could tell this was not going to go well for them.

“You deny it?” Asked Art as he narrowed his eyes at Arlo.

“Hell, yes, I deny it. That’s crazy. Why on earth would Bo do something like that?”

That seemed to be enough for Raylan as the man stood up from his seat. The chair legs scratched across the floor from the force. “Okay. We’re done here.”

“Mr. Givens, what we need you to consider...” Tim spoke after minutes of silence, but he was interrupted as Raylan grabbed the back of Arlo’s chair and his face appeared next to his fathers.

“What I’m supposed to say is, we know you ran Bo’s protection racket into the dirt. So it doesn’t take a prophet to see the future from here.” This caused Arlo to stand from his seat, with Art and Tim following suit. “Okay. You can either sit around, waiting to catch a bullet or...”

“What?” Arlo asked his son, the disdain dripping from his voice.

“Or you can accept protection from the Marshal’s Service.”

“How about we talk about my granddaughter. That Crowder kept her hidden from you, from me. Wonder if she turned out like you, an arrogant self righteous ass?”

“Don’t you talk about my daughter.” Raylan spoke as he pointed a finger towards his father. “How about instead we talk about Helen? You gonna forgive yourself if she gets caught in the crossfire, hmm?”

“You are no longer welcome here. Any of you.” Arlo spoke, turning around and looking to Art and Tim. “Tell the truth.” Arlo began as he looked back at Raylan. “You didn’t honestly think you could turn me.”

Raylan pushed his hat down a little farther on his head and sighed. “I came here as an officer of the law, because sometimes we have to make deals with lowlifes because we have our sights set on life-forms even somehow lower on the ladder of lowlifes than they. And why would you ever think I would let you anywhere near my daughter?”

The slap that sounded as Arlo’s palm connected with Raylan’s face was loud in the silence of the bar, and Art had to stick an arm out to hold Tim back as the young man pushed forward to intervene. Unsure if it was the why Arlo was talking about Elenora or the booze he had drank prior. It honestly was probably a little of both. “Mr. Givens, we’re taking down the Crowders, and you can either go with them or not.” Art said simply as he watched Raylan storm away from the group.

When Art got outside, he was greeted by the sound of his cell phone going off, and the sound of Raylan’s. Then, as Tim appeared beside him, the young Marshal’s as well. The three looked at each other before Art opened the phone to see a message reading ‘double murder, think it was Boyd taking out more cookers.’ There was also an address attached.

Art looked at Tim and then at Raylan. “I’m gonna ride with Deputy Gutterson. Raylan lead the way.” Raylan headed off to the car, and Art walked to stand next to Tim. “You and I need to have a talk on this ride.”

“Sir...” Tim began as he fished his keys out of his pocket and looked from Art to the SUV and back again. “There is something you should know.”

“I got a pretty good guess, son.”

“Well, then at least, be quiet cause she’s sleepin’.” Said Tim with a sigh as he and Art moved toward the vehicle and each carefully opened the doors and got in. Without waiting for Art to even do his seat belt up, Tim pulled out of the parking lot and headed out.

Once they were on the move, Art turned to look in the backseat, and there, curled up under Tim’s blue Marshal’s jacket, was Elenora. Fast asleep, using her hands that were laying palm to palm as a pillow. When he brought his head back to look at Tim, he found the young man staring out the windshield leaned back with one hand on the steering wheel.

“How long?”

“Since the night before she got the apartment.” Said Tim simply.

“So that story you guys told, when Wallace had her?”

“Mostly true. Didn’t actually catch her in the fountain. Met her at the bar, she asked me for a favor to help with getting the place. We’ve been going steady since,” Tim said casually as he continued to stare at the taillights of Raylan’s car.

“Steady?” Art questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Tim let his head lean to the right, and he let out a sigh. “Yeah, steady.”

“So, this thing is serious?”

“Yup.” Said Tim before glancing back towards Elenora. “Nell, you still sleepin’?” When now reply came, Tim pointed towards the glove box and gave Art a pointed look. “Open it.”

Art did as he was told and reached forward to release the latch. Looking inside, he strained against the dim light of the cab, but he could make out a few loose pieces of paper, a notepad, a box of condoms, which he raised an eye at and a small black box. Plucking it from the depths of the dark hole, Art held it in his hands and looked at Tim. “Is this what I think it is?”

“We went to some house party, a graduation thing at one of her friends. I saw her there with her friends, having fun, a smile on her face. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. We talked a little on the porch. She asked me what I was thinkin’ about, and honestly, I was imagining her leavin’ me. Cause before that, all night, all I could think about was growin’ old next to her. Didn’t think about work, not about the war, just her.” He rocked his head back and forth for a second. “Next day, I bought that.”

Art stared down at a thin gold band, with a large round cut diamond and a scattered halo of about a dozen small diamonds. “Tim...”

“Raylan doesn’t know.”

Art closed the ring box and put it carefully back in the glove compartment. “I figured seeing as how you don’t have a bullet hole in you. So, what are you gonna do?”

“Art, I wanna marry that girl back there. I just don’t know how to ask her daddy’s permission.”

Chapter Twelve

[mumms-the-word]

Healing

Day 11 of the BG3 Fic February Challenge

Y'all, it's long, it's unnecessary, it's sappy. I have no excuses. Maybe one day I'll edit it and cut it down into something that's good buuut when you're writing new scenes every day you gotta keep going!

Enjoy a few scenes of Halsin and Ardynn and healing magic and angst and pining

Check out my masterlist of BG3 fics!

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11. Bandaging/healing each other’s wounds

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“A moment, Archdruid?”

Halsin turned to find Ardynn approaching. He had joined their camp barely a tenday ago, hoping to serve as a guide toward and through the shadow curse and offer what wisdom he could. Although it seemed as though most of his services were unnecessary, talented as these adventurers were. Most services, that is, except healing. 

Shadowheart was a decent healer, but she was needed for battle too. This left most injuries unattended or bandaged but unhealed until the end of the day, when the adventurers would come back to camp and make their way over to him.

So when Ardynn approached, one hand clamped over a bloody-looking spot on her upper arm, he knew what her request would be before she even had a chance to speak it.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Archdruid Halsin,” she said. 

“Just Halsin,” he said, smiling at her. It must be the tenth time he had reminded her, by now. “No, you are not disturbing me. Come here, let me have a look at that.” He gestured for her to sit on a nearby rock. 

He watched as she unclasped and carefully removed her padded armor coat, her face tight and wincing as she did. Her entire left shirt sleeve, or what was left of it, was soaked with blood, her forearm stained a dried rust color. As he knelt to inspect her arm, he realized she had torn off part of her sleeve and tied it around her wound as a bandage.

“I would have asked Shadowheart,” she said, “but I had already asked too much of her in the fight. I bandaged it up with some herbs—a poultice of ground balsam and yarrow. I would wait until the morning to ask her but I thought…”

He glanced up from his examination of her wound to find her staring at him, cheeks a little pinker than before. She quickly looked away. 

He suppressed a smile. He hadn’t forgotten the way she had come over to him at the tiefling party, face flush with wine, taking his hand and trying to tug him toward the fire to join them. I want to get to know you, she’d said, her smile bright and eyes glimmering from the wine. Really, really get to know you. She’d been unable to hide her disappointment when he’d turned her down, though with the little pout on her lips, he had thought her quite endearing. And then she had spent two days avoiding his gaze before coming over to apologize for her behavior at the party, face nearly as flush then as it had been that night. 

Though part of him found her charming—she was certainly beautiful, with her striking green eyes and her lithe build—he was honor-bound to focus his attention on the shadow curse before all else. He couldn’t be…distracted.

Much as he might be tempted to pursue distraction.

“Balsam and yarrow, was it?” he asked, forcing his own thoughts back to the present. He reached up to undo the makeshift bandage and peer at the wound beneath. It was a nasty cut, pasted over with the ground herbs, but it didn’t look terribly inflamed or infected. He stood to prepare a bowl of water and a cloth to wash away her poultice and any lingering blood. “Impressive. I’ve only known a few outside the grove with a ready knowledge of herbal remedies.”

“Herbal remedies are all I know, I’m afraid,” she said. “Perhaps I’ll learn a healing spell or two eventually, so that I won’t have to be a burden on our group.”

“You are not a burden, Ardynn,” he said, kneeling back at her side with his bowl of water. He began to clean around the wound carefully, watching for signs of her in pain or discomfort out of the corner of his eye. “You lead these people with tenacity and grace. They all trust you to lead them well.”

“And yet I completely didn’t see that Zhent’s blade until it was too late,” she mumbled. “I’ll do better. I don’t want this to become a common thing.”

He set the bowl of water, now dingy with blood and herbs, to the side. “You don’t want what to become a common thing?”

Her face seemed flushed again. “Having to come to you for healing.”

Halsin chuckled and lifted a hand, whispering a healing spell and letting the cool, blue magic sweep over her arm. When he lowered his hand, there was barely a faint scar to remind her she’d ever been cut.

He stood and handed her the padded armor she had removed before. “I should not wish for it either,” he said, as she stood and took the coat. “But I hope the only reason my healing services are not required is because you are being more careful in battle, not because you are avoiding me. I don’t want to simply take up space in your camp, Ardynn. I want to be useful…where I can be.”

She looked up at him, a flash of surprise crossing her face before she mastered her expression. She eventually nodded. 

“I will…keep that in mind, Archdruid.”

“Halsin,” he corrected her.

“Halsin.” She paused. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

———

Ardynn had been as good as her word. When she came back to camp in the following days, clearly favoring one leg or moving in such a way as to suggest an injury, she looked over in Halsin’s direction as if very seriously considering visiting him for healing. At first she held back, but eventually he came to expect her visiting almost every other night. Sometimes without a wound in sight.

One night, she came over with a book in hand, something she had found while exploring, to discuss the medicinal advice inside. Another night, deep in the Underdark, she had asked his opinion on a remedy to counteract timmask spores, “just in case.” Eventually their conversations shifted from healing knowledge to other topics. Her family, their shared and differing views on nature, a few tales from his youth. He grew to look forward to her little visits at the end of every day, simply to see her walking toward him in the torchlight or the glow of the Underdark. 

Once, she had come over to him, half her body bound in bandages but her smile bright and eager, to tell him of their great fight against a monstrous construct wading in lava. 

“Never have I hunted so strong a beast,” she said breathlessly as he unwound the bandages around her legs to find half-healed burns. The state of her legs was horrific, with burns that had nearly melted her flesh in some places, yet she seemed to barely notice. The adrenaline coursing through her veins must be immense, for she continued to speak in excited tones, gesturing now and again with her hands. “A beast of metal, Halsin, entirely of metal, its gears whirring and clicking, its eyes—if they could be called eyes—glowing with arcane energy. My arrows were all but useless. We had to get clever and use the lava against it, lure it toward a great hammer over a kind of massive anvil, just to have the barest chance of victory. Of course we had to be careful of the lava as well, especially because the great beast flung it about whenever it moved. I didn’t get out of the way fast enough, as you can probably see, but gods—I wish you had been there to see it.”

A pang of jealously threatened to seize him as she regaled him with the details of the battle, but he pushed it aside. His role was not to fight at her side, he reminded himself as he examined her burns. It was to offer guidance and heal. Besides, he grumbled to himself, he was a bit too old these days to be galavanting in lava and fighting constructs in arcane forges.

“I tried to cast a healing spell,” she added, when he frowned at the wounds on her legs. “Shadowheart taught me. I’m…well, not as good as you, yet. But perhaps one day.”

He glanced up at her, surprised. “You learned healing magic?”

“I—well, I tried. As I said I’m…not very good.” She gestured to her legs, healed in patches, some burns looking no better than they must have begun. “As you can tell.”

She was quiet a moment as he straightened out one of her legs and carefully turned it, trying to keep his touch gentle and his fingers only on the healed skin near her ankle, where her boots had protected against most of the lava splashes. The healing process from her spell was inconsistent, but not badly done. She simply needed practice. She would master the spell in no time.

And what then, he thought to himself. When she no longer required healing from him? When she could simply heal herself? Would that be an end to her nightly visits? There would be no more nights where he could look up from his meditations to find her walking over, ginger hair turned crimson in the setting sun or green eyes reflecting the bioluminescence of the Underdark flora. Their conversations by the fire would cease. And once they neared Moonrise and dealt with whatever horrors lay there, she would drift from his life as so many had done before.

Why did that thought unsettle him so much? He was 350 years old. He was used to people drifting away without him. Or he ought to be. And yet, the thought now of her leaving him behind stirred his emotions in ways that seemed both uncomfortable and unwise.

“Halsin?” 

He looked up at the sound of his name, spoken softly and gently, to find himself meeting her green-gold gaze. She looked uncertain, hesitant. She opened her mouth but then seemed to think better of her words. 

“Yes?” he asked.

She hesitated again and then shook her head slightly. “I just…will you teach me? That is, if you don’t mind accepting another student. I think if I had you as my teacher, I…” She trailed off and then looked away. “Perhaps that is a foolish question. I don’t want to waste your time.”

Perhaps it was foolish. Not her question, but the way it warmed his heart. He tried to ignore the temptation to read too much into her words. She was only asking for lessons, after all.

“Lessons in healing magic is never a waste of time, Ardynn,” he said. “I would be more than happy to teach you what I know.”

“Truly?” The smile that briefly lit up her features could have illuminated the Underdark. It certainly gave his aged heart a flutter. “Let’s start tonight, then. Tell me everything you know about healing spells while you heal these burns.”

He chuckled, carefully setting her leg down to rest against the cool stone. “I fear my knowledge of healing magic would necessarily span more than one night. I cannot explain it all at once.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t,” she said. He met her gaze again to find her looking earnestly at him, not shying away as she had done before. Instead she looked determined, and a little hopeful.

He smiled slightly. “No, I do not mind. Very well. Let us begin.”

———

Halsin stood, arms crossed, watching Art Cullagh shift on his sweat-soaked mattress, murmuring the song that came intermittently from his lips. There had to be a way to break him of this trance. Some way to reach his innermost consciousness and bring him back from the brink. Halsin frowned, closing his eyes. If only they had another lead on where Thaniel might be…

He sighed and looked out the window. Ardynn would find a solution. He knew she would. She was an excellent tracker and a survivor. She was a woman of boundless fortitude and kindness. He’d seen the way she looked at Art and saw her expression shift from concern to determination. If anyone could find a cure…for Art, for Thaniel, for the shadow curse…it would be her, almost certainly.

He only wished he could be of more use. Art’s condition was beyond him, forcing Ardynn back out into the shadow curse to pursue leads and hunt down answers. And he had seen the ways the shadow curse wore her down. Not just physically, with the threat of the shadow plague weakening them all, but mentally, emotionally. The awestruck girl who has gazed up at him in the goblin camp had given way to a serious woman who spent much of her time forging paths through the darkness. When she returned to their camp, she was exhausted, but forced herself to check on everyone at least once before collapsing into her bedroll. She barely ate, from what he could tell, her food suspended between her plate and her mouth as she followed thoughts in her head and unconsciously tuned out those around her.

Her conversations with him had dwindled as she retreated into her own thoughts, the circles growing darker under her eyes as each day passed. He worried for her. The shadows here seemed to affect her more than most, and he wasn’t entirely certain it was just the magic at play.

If only he knew what to do or say to help…

Suddenly, he heard shouts from outside the inn. He moved to the window, peering out, fearing the worst, but Isobel’s moon magic held firm. The shouts got closer, coming from the front of the inn. After a beat, he recognized his own name. He turned right as the door to the bunk room burst open, Karlach ducking inside.

Halsin’s heart nearly stopped. Ardynn hung slumped over Karlach’s back, limp, unmoving, like one dead. He felt a fear grip him that was painfully familiar and unwelcome. No…not her. The shadows can’t take her too.

“What happened?” he demanded, moving forward as Karlach rushed toward one of the open beds. Together they laid Ardynn onto the mattress, positioning her so that she lay flat. Her normally tanned skin was a pale, grayish pallor and was feverish to the touch. Halsin put his fingers to the pulse at her neck, praying that her heart still beat.

There. A pulse, faint, but steady. Praise Silvanus.

“We were out scouting and got ambushed by those needle blighter wotsits,” Karlach said. Behind her, Wyll and Shadowheart entered the room, looking winded from their sprint after Karlach. “Ardynn was farther ahead of us when they attacked. By the time we got up to her half of them had exploded and she was…”

She shook her head, her face tight with worry.

“I cast sanctuary as soon as I could,” Shadowheart said, joining them at the bedside. “But those creatures are ruthless. It was all we could do to destroy them with just the three of us.”

“How long was she unconscious while you fought?” Halsin asked, starting to undo the clasps of her armor and her wide leather belt. There were shards of needle blight quills still embedded in her armor all over. He grimaced as he had to break the quills to peel her armor from her skin, trying to avoid tearing even more wounds into her body than she already had. In his haste, however, he couldn’t completely avoid doing damage. He cursed himself silently as more blood began to flow freely from new wounds on her body.

“A couple of minutes at the most,” Shadowheart answered. “But she never woke up. She’s been unconscious for more than half an hour by this point. I don’t understand what happened. We’ve fought those things before without any trouble.”

Halsin finally succeeded in removing her armor, leaving her in her shirt and trousers. There were a few quills still embedded in her skin, but for the moment he ignored them lifting a hand to summon golden nature magic over her, letting the spell guide him. The air was filled briefly with the scent of pine and lavender as he closed his eyes and listened to the answers the nature spell envisioned to his unspoken questions.

Blood loss, from the quills. Exhaustion and general weakness, likely from her many nights sleeping poorly and not eating enough. And…necrotic magic, from the shadow curse. A lot of it. Seeping into her blood and following the flow of it to every inch of her body.

There was a soft gasp from one of the others and Halsin opened his eyes. Under the spell’s magic, something had changed. Ardynn’s veins showed black against her grayed skin, the blood seeping from her wounds sluggish and dark. The shadow curse’s necrotic effects no doubt. If he had to guess, Ardynn had been struck with so many shadow-cursed blight quills that the shadow magic had broken past Isobel’s blessing of Selûne to enter her body via her blood. Left unattended for this long, it had essentially poisoned her with necrosis from the inside out. Another half an hour and she would be gone. More then gone, she would be another shadow-cursed corpse, in an inn full of innocents.

Halsin ignored the fear that gripped his heart and gestured to Shadowheart and Wyll. “You two, help me pull the remaining needles from her body. There shouldn’t be that many left. I don’t want them adding anymore necrotic magic to her body.”

They worked quickly, tossing the quills into a bucket Karlach had grabbed for them, until at last Halsin was satisfied none remained. Only then did he lift his hands and hover them over Ardynn’s body, whispering a small prayer to Silvanus and summoning a greater healing spell that would pull the necrosis from her veins and dissolve it with a mix of his natural magic and the effects of the Selûnite magic that remained.

The air between them glowed with golden light once more, almost blindingly bright, but Halsin kept his focus. He maintained the spell until he saw the darkness in her veins fade, until her wounds had all closed up, until the healthy, sun-kissed color of her skin returned. He held on a moment longer until at last her eyelids fluttered.

He broke the spell with a small gasp, his hands hovering, his eyes searching her for signs of life. She stirred, lifting a hand to her head, before slowly opening her eyes to look around.

“What…” She looked confused, searching the room for a moment before her eyes landed on him. “Halsin?”

He crouched down and placed a hand on her shoulder. Relief didn’t begin to cover what he felt right now. He blinked at a sudden mistiness in his eyes, drying them quickly. “I’m here, Ardynn. You’re safe at Last Light Inn.”

“Last…? How did I get here? The last thing I remember…” She trailed off and looked uncertain.

“You can thank our friends for your rescue.” He nodded toward Karlach, Wyll, and Shadowheart.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Karlach said, pressing her hands to her chest. “Soldier you had me so worried. I though I was going to have to get Withers to drag your soul out of the Fugue Plane, if the shadows didn’t take you first.”

Ardynn still looked confused, so Halsin stood and turned to her companions. “I think what she needs now is rest. Don’t worry, she will recover shortly. By morning she’ll be as fighting fit as she usually is.”

“Of course,” Wyll said. He nodded at Ardynn. “Rest well, friend. I don’t know what we’d do without our fearless leader. You deserve a good night’s sleep.”

“But don’t worry about us,” Shadowheart added. “We can take care of ourselves tonight. You focus on getting your strength back.”

They filed out of the room and closed the door behind them. Halsin was just about to step away from the bed, to give her space, when he felt her hand brush his. He turned just as she curled her fingers around his.

“Halsin,” she said softly. “Don’t go yet. Please.”

What could he say in response? He had done more for less, sat by the sickbeds of far less deserving people. He knelt beside her, keeping her hand in his. 

“What happened out there?” she asked.

As he explained what he knew and what he suspected the effects to be, he kept a steady hold of her hand, speaking softly and pausing to make sure she understood. She stayed quiet during his explanation, her eyes on his face, until at last he said, “You have to take better care of yourself, Ardynn. Without you, many people here would be lost.”

She looked away at that. “I…Withers can bring me back. He can bring anyone back.”

“Not anyone. And to take that chance is more risk than any of us should take.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I will lecture you no longer. I know there is still much work to be done here. I only ask that you consider my words and rest.”

She said nothing for long moment before she nodded. “All right. But I made you a promise, Halsin, that I would find a cure for this shadow curse. I intend to keep my promise.”

“I know. But take it from a healer,” he said, turning her hand so that he could envelope it in both of his. “Rest and good food are just as important as healing spells and poultices, if not more so. You know that as well as I do.”

“I know.” She took a slow breath and nodded again. “I will be more careful from now on.”

“Good. Stay here. I will find you something to eat. Once you have some of your strength back, we can return to camp together.”

He left to procure some food for her, reassuring Jaheira, who had watched the others come in, that Ardynn was fine and would be in full health come the morning. By the time he returned, Ardynn was fast asleep, her breathing slow and even.

He watched her for a moment, reflecting back on the fear he’d felt only moments ago, when he thought she would be lost, perhaps lost for good. She was beautiful—he’d always thought that, from the moment she had first turned to face him in the goblin camp and he found himself faced with her piercing green eyes, the color of fresh spring and dappled sunlight—but she was so much more, too. To him. To many others.

He should been out there, with her. Fighting at her side. Protecting her. On hand to heal her whenever she required it, not just when she made it back to camp miraculously alive. He shouldn’t be staying at the inn like a coward, hiding behind his duties, waiting for her to bring back salvation for Thaniel.

And yet…he looked over at Art Cullagh, who also required his care and who held the key to saving Thaniel. Halsin was torn. Decades of his life was spent wracking his brains to find a way to navigate and end the shadow curse. No matter how much he cared for Ardynn—and, he had to admit, unable to avoid it any longer, he cared for her a great deal—something in him couldn’t abandon a century of effort for a beautiful face. Not yet.

It didn’t mean he didn’t hate some part of himself for his deceiving. But his mind was made up. He had to put the greater good of the land, which would go on without him, over his personal feelings. When Thaniel was safe, and only then…

He forced himself to look away, setting her food down on the table nearby. He didn’t have the luxury of pursuing those thoughts any further. Only once he was sure that the land would heal would he be able to pursue his own desires again.

———

“Halsin. Don’t think you can hide that wound from me.”

He turned as Ardynn took his hand as they ascended the steps to their shared room in the Elfsong Tavern. She reached over with her free hand to gently poke his bicep a few inches below where a deep gash was cut into his skin. He’d hastily covered it with a bandage soon after the battle, tying it with one hand and his teeth, unable to stop for a healing spell as they escaped their pursuers. But they were safe now, returning to their room, together.

So much had happened since Moonrise. They’d saved Thaniel—as if he ever should have doubted they wouldn’t—and he’d at last asked to join her, to fight alongside her and (he said to himself at the time) keep an eye on her to make sure the shadow curse didn’t harm her more than it already had. After the defeat of Ketheric Thorm and their successful journey to Baldur’s Gate, he’d finally found his courage to ask to lay with her under the stars, as he’d dreamed of doing for many, many nights before. Since then, every night he fell asleep with her curled into his side and woke up with her still in his arms. It seemed like an impossible dream rather than reality.

Though the pain throbbing in his arm reminded him that he was very much living in reality, no matter what his lovelorn thoughts might try to say.

“Shall I let you practice your healing magic on my, my heart?” he asked, smiling down at her.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Practice? I’ve improved quite a bit since that fight in the Grymforge.”

He chuckled. “So you have. Very well, I place myself in your tender care.”

She shook her head, amused at his words, but led him over for the fireplace that took up the center of their shared room. The other companions were winding down for the day, undressing or speaking to one another or ordering food to be sent up. Ardynn ignored them all, leading Halsin by the hand over to a chair by the fireplace and coaxing him to sit down. 

He watched, patient and at peace, as her nimble, gentle fingers carefully untied the bandage around his bicep. He admired the small crease between her eyebrows as she examined the gash, turning her head this way and that to get a good look at it. He resisted, barely, the urge to reach out with a finger and smooth the little crease away.

She reached into her bag for a small waterskin of water and a cloth, wetting the fabric and using it to gently clean around his cut. Halsin kept very still as she worked, his attention shifting from his wound to watch her hands, and then her face. 

Their time in the shadow cursed lands had changed her, matured her, or perhaps it had only revealed to him how mature she had always been. Even so, there was a new quiet within her, though not exactly one of peace. She laughed a little less often than before, lapsed into thoughtful silence a little more. Her kindness had never wavered, it had only deepened. Her anger at injustice, like his own, seemed to bubble under the surface at every new horror they saw in the city, but she had a much better control over her anger than he did. Yet, even though she seemed more sure of herself and only rarely showed her doubts or fears when they explored the city, when they were alone, curled together in the darkness of night, she whispered many of her doubts to him, seeking his wisdom, or just his listening ear. Then she got up the next morning and prepared for a new day, never once even thinking to hide away and let the city suffer without her attempting to help.

She was extraordinary. Perfect. Far too modest for her own good. Far too good to be wasted on an aging druid like himself. And yet, despite him saying she could pursue love wherever it pleased her, she remained. Always at his side, her eyes never even briefly seeking out another.

“Halsin,” she said quietly, pulling him from his thoughts. “Do you regret joining us? Out there, fighting with us?”

He didn’t answer immediately, a little taken aback by her question. “What do you mean?”

“I just thought…considering your views on the city…” 

Ah…the city. And all its many injustices. He had many doubts. Many concerns about the city. Some of the sights he had encountered here threatened to break his heart and stir his anger. If given the choice, he would ever have come. 

But he was not here for the city. 

He reached up and took one of her hands, squeezing gently. “If you are asking whether I regret being at your side, the answer is no. I promised to remain at your side until your parasite was dealt with, and intend to keep my promise.” He paused, sensing that his answer was not enough. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just…” She frowned, seemingly at a loss for words. She once more ran the cloth gently over his wound, though it was mostly clean by now. “You wouldn’t have been hurt had you remained behind. Every day you step out of this room with me is another day you will be attacked by something. Another day you could get hurt. That can’t be the life you want.”

“It is only temporary. Once you succeed in stopping this elder brain, we will have the luxury of contemplating a new kind of life, whatever we want that to look like.”

She said nothing, frowning to herself. Setting aside the cloth, she covered his wound with her hand and whispered the words of a healing spell. Halsin felt the cooling magic as it sank into his skin, the air glowing blue for a brief moment before fading away. When she moved she hand, naught but a scar remained.

She didn’t seem pleased. Her frown deepened as she stroked the length of the scar with her thumb.

“You’ll always have scars like these to remind you of this time in your life,” she said. “Especially if you have me healing your wounds, novice that I am. Those won’t be temporary.”

“I don’t mind.” He reached for her other hand so that he was holding both, angling himself so that she stood between his knees. “We have made many promises, the two of us. To ourselves and to each other. Have you known either of us to break a promise?”

She shook her head. “Not if we could help it.”

“Do you want me to remain behind? Where I won’t get hurt?”

She hesitated. “No. I want you at my side. For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Then I will remain. For as long as I am wanted. Besides, should I get hurt, I know that you will be there to tend to my wounds and heal me.”

“Just as you have always healed me,” she whispered. She nodded and leaned down for a  kiss, and another. She pulled away to smile softly at him. “I doubt I’ll ever be able to repay you or catch up to all the times you’ve patched me back together. But I’d like to try. I’ll never become a great healer if you keep healing yourself.”

He mirrored her smile and leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “You will become a great healer in time, I think. But right now the world needs Ardynn Harrow, the huntress, to fell another great beast. I can take care of myself.”

“Halsin…” She slipped her hands from his and perched on his knee, linking her hands together behind his neck. “You have healed me and cared for me for months, before you ever confessed to desiring me. Is it so strange that someone wants to care for you, too? That I want to care for you, the way you’ve cared for me?”

She pressed one of her hands to his chest, over his beating heart, and he covered it with his own. “I know you don’t need me to,” she said, “but I want to take care of you every now and again. Heal your wounds, tend to your injuries…listen when you need to discuss your doubts and your fears. Everything you do for me, I want to do for you, too. Will you let me?”

How could he say no, when she gazed so earnestly at him, her hand pressed to his heart? Though part of him knew he would resist a little, being unused to such care, he wasn’t opposed to the idea. Not when it meant more time with her at his side, her gentle touch on his body, her inquisitive gaze looking back at him. He lift her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. 

“I will try,” he said.

“That’s all I ask,” she murmured. 

She leaned in for another kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss and wishing he could just lay her down on the floor in front of the fireplace and take her there. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve a woman like her, but he thanked Silvanus every day for his good fortunes. 

He resolved not to leave her side for a good while yet, until her parasite was gone, perhaps even well beyond that. Every wound he got in service to that goal was worth it. Especially when he knew she would be there to care for him. 

[childlikegoblinqueen]

Chapter 76 Lore

Hey all! There's a thing happening with AO3! So... I worked REALLY hard on the last chapter and there's more to it than this (so check it out if you haven't). But I figured I would drop the In Universe Grimwalker Folktale from the last chapter here as a teaser.

Ao3... my heart is with you?

LEGENDS OF GRIMWALKERS

Fifth Edition Stories Collected and Edited by Head Witch G’Mork with Foreword by Flora D’Splora.

TALE XIV

BONES AND ALL

Once there were two witches that fell in love and got married. 

They wanted a child, and had been faithful to the Titan’s will, but the Titan had other plans for them, and those plans did not include a child.

But the wife demanded more. One night she looked up into the sky and saw a bright star streak across the horizon. So, she defied the Titan and prayed to a false god from the stars to give her what she desired.

The next day, while gathering wood in the forest, the couple heard the cry of a babe. They followed the sound until they came upon a strange clearing they had never seen in all their time that they walked this land. 

In the middle of the clearing was a hill. And at the top was an infant child. Her legs were bound with vines, and she cried, and cried into the red sky above. 

“Look my darling.” The witch told her mate. “We have been blessed with the child we have always wanted! Now we can be a family.”

But the husband gazed upon the child and frowned. Though this appeared to be a true witchling, with fine pointed ears, and small fangs poking slightly out of her mouth, her eyes were the color of blood. 

In her hand rested a small stone that glowed a ghostly blue. 

“This child is not of the Isles and is not given of the Titan’s Blessing.” Insisted the husband, “She will only bring us misery.” –

But the wife begged and cried, and the husband relented and they took the child home, filling their empty cradle with the strange child’s body. 

But try as they might, they could not pry the strange stone from the babe’s arms. 

And worse? The witchling’s appetite was insatiable. They fed her spider milk, and she demanded the spiders themselves. They fed her griffin eggs and she would not stop crying until the couple fed her the egg shells and then the griffin that had laid the eggs, which she consumed in a single bite. 

The more they fed her, the more the child demanded. 

And then the unnatural babe let out a loud shriek. From all around the dark woods, glowing red eyes emerged.

The couple drew spell circle after spell circle. They called up magical barriers of earth and trees and sound and wind. But they could hear from outside the strange creatures with the blood red eyes, pounding on their doors, scratching with sharp nails. 

And the next morning, when their neighbors stopped to visit– disturbed by the shrieks that had carried from their cottage to the town nearby, they had found the home empty and the couple gone. 

As if they had been devoured, bones and all.

[willowwind78]

Bard

So... you might notice this particular miniature isn't exactly like the other one's you see on Etsy, which is where I purchased this when it was unpainted. I dropped him. He broke. I can't find the missing piece that links the illusion to the ball and when I tried to glue his hand back on it didn't fit right. Hence: How Not to Paint Miniatures!

Tip of the day: Don't drop your miniatures on the floor.

Still, he's pretty awesome. I kind of feel like the base detracts from the mini a bit though. That stump is a lot. A bit of distraction. He could have just sat on a rock.

Then again, maybe the stump is where his magic is drawn from. That would be most inconvenient. I find it more likely that his magical power is drawn from the fungi growing on the stump. I wonder if he's thought of that or if he just hangs out on the stump because he thinks it's the only place he can cast spells.

willowwind78 on eBay

I don't mention this very often on here, but I feel the need today. If you like the absurdity and weirdness of my posts, you should check out my YouTube Channel. I currently have 5 subscribers!

Pastor Jen @pastorjen_hntpm

Yes, I am a Pastor. I play role-playing games. I paint miniatures. I play video games. I am goofy. This morning, I wrote a sermon comparing Jesus to the atom bomb because I was watching the movie Oppenheimer. I related the destructive capabilities of the atom bomb and its power to either create or destroy the world to the way so many terrible people use Jesus Christ and his teachings as a way to divide and destroy others.

I am currently having some struggles trying to get my churches videos edited to just my sermons and then uploaded to my YouTube channel so you don't have to watch the whole service from the QuietDellChurch channel just to hear my message. I'd print them but they don't read the same as I deliver them.

My view of Christianity is a bit different than you might think. My Jesus made water into wine, chatted openly and actively with prostitutes, interacted without fear with women who somehow had five husbands that no one questioned how they all died, and thinks everyone has a voice. You might hate me because despite that I follow the teachings of Jesus Christ I do not believe He is the ONLY way to salvation, happiness on earth or any other such thing. Check me out, you might find something that inspires you. God walks with me.

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, MAY 30, 2018 I appreciate that I slept through traffic but it would be nice if the skies would stay quiet tonight. Despite being windy, though, I hear plenty of planes and helicopters. Planes at night, traffic in the daytime. Oh, and projects too, of course. Really, we can’t go a week without them. Tricia was having her AC worked on and Geri is in the process of having the white picket fence in front of her place torn down. Why I don’t know. Looked like a fine fence to me, just maybe in need of a fresh coat of paint.

I knew it was windy when I got up because the wind chimes were going crazy. I was going to check the wind speed online but we’re having a cool spell now, and between that and the wind, I don’t want to take the bike out. Hopefully, summer will be here to stay soon enough. The days are always nice but sometimes it gets chilly early in the morning. Every time I think I won’t need my slippers for a while, I have to pull them out again. Funny too, because we were in the triple digits the other day when Tom returned from work. I was also adapting to the heat quickly and easily. Still don’t think I’m as sun tolerant as I used to be but as long as I’m not in the direct sunlight for too long, especially if I’m doing anything physical, I’m fine.

Of all the research I’ve done on the raised reddish spot on my shoulder blade, it seems like it might be benign skin cancer. I’m no dermatologist but it definitely doesn’t seem like psoriasis and it definitely isn’t eczema. I’m not worried about it, though, because this kind is almost never life-threatening.

When Tom was using the step ladder to change out the bathroom light, he gouged the 3D fishpond sticker on the floor beneath it, so I pulled it up. Even after mopping that area a couple of times, it left a sticky residue on the floor. So rather than battle with that, I’m going to replace it with a larger fishpond sticker. :-)

There isn’t much more to say. Just going to do some editing while on the treadmill, hit the Bowflex, and other things.

We’re both looking forward to our upcoming vacation. I’m excited to do the home improvements we have planned and to see what my cholesterol and hormone levels are but dreading my thyroid levels, as always. Then again, my T4 should be as normal as it always is. Based on how I feel, I don’t think my TSH is going to be that high. It’s not like I’ve had to skip my meds like crazy like I did with the other brand. As I mentioned, I recently had a dream that my thyroid numbers were normal but I don’t think it could mean anything because I don’t think 75 micrograms could get me there. It could when I first went on the medication but I don’t think it could now. If it could, my anxiety would be going through the roof because it always gets bad when I go under 8.

While it’s great that Aly doesn’t have the markers for cancer, it’s sad to see her go through the dizziness, weakness, blood transfusions and iron shots she has to have. What she needs most is a stem cell transplant but her fucking insurance won’t cover it.

I’m down from 157.0 to 155.2 but my body won’t give up more than another pound or two. Like I said, it will only let so much off just like my schedule can only jump so fast. So once I get down to 153-154, it will hold its weight.

TUESDAY, MAY 29, 2018 Tonight was another reminder of why it’s helpful to spy on your visitors. According to Google Analytics, someone linked to my blog from Instagram. My first thought was how the hell they managed to pull that off if I don’t have an Instagram account? But sure enough, I found that I did. Probably had to join for some contest or in hopes of finding a way to store photos there.

Slept shitty like I do most of the time I sleep during the day. I’ve been burning and itching down there more than usual, too. When I got up to deal with that and because I had to pee, I took a Zyrtec. I don’t think Tom’s strong cooking smells woke me up but just in case, I’m going to maybe tape a cotton ball to my nose since I don’t want to shove anything up it as the week before an appointment is critical. Yet Tom still needs to eat. After that, it doesn’t matter if I’m woken up by him cooking because I’m woken up enough of the time as it is be it just because, because of dreams, to pee, traffic, whatever. This is why I don’t have a full-time workout program I follow. Too tired too much of the time. I still believe I’ll adapt someday but right before an appointment isn’t the time to worry about that.

Tom decided we shouldn’t bother drywalling the hallway because of the extra work and money it would take. We’re just going to paint it white.

Forgot to mention that the fucking eye insurance people said we can’t go to the doctor until it’s been a year. So no new glasses until after October 16th because according to my journal, that’s the last time we were there. What do people do in the event of an emergency?

My cyber-friend Christine got married a few days ago.

Began the revenge story I’ve wanted to do involving the kidnapping and torture of the freeloaders for quite a while now but just couldn’t come up with the best of ideas until watching The OA gave me a brilliant idea in an abandoned mine. The “cells” in which they’re held hostage consist of a round plexiglass circle that is about 25’ in diameter which is sliced into sixes like when cutting a pie. It’s kind of like the bullet-proof material jail cells are made of.

There is a trough with natural running water that winds its way through the cells and that’s where they drink, piss and clean up. There’s also a feeder that feeds them these nutritious “pellets,” to keep them alive for as long as I want and that also allows my helpers and I not to have any direct contact with them unless we wish to.

The point of the story is to torture and terrorize those I hate the most which would be the former neighbors and the black pig and let them believe they’re going to be killed along with others who were killed when in reality I plan to turn them loose in the end so they can have to live with what I did to them just like I have to live with what they did to me. And believe me, what I do to them in the story is a whole lot worse than what they ever did to me! If I knew we were both going to die right now I swear I would email it to as many contacts as I could find! Only then could I exercise my right to free speech knowing there wouldn’t be a damn thing they could do about it.

MONDAY, MAY 28, 2018 Along with trimming the cypress trees and tweaking my bike, Tom installed the new bathroom light, and of course I helped. :-) It casts a slightly yellowish glow but it’s much easier on the eyes and I really love it. Much more stylish and modern than the other one. They still sell that exact model too, which I could have gotten for less than half of what we paid for this one. I might have gotten it if we were only going to be here another year or so but since we have many more years left, I thought I’d get something nicer.

Slept much better the last time around for 8 solid, dreamless hours. Tom said there were 3-4 loud vehicles to go by while I slept which is an encouraging sign that I really am adapting to city noise little by little. Also, drinking Sleepytime Extra before bed seems to help me sleep better and not wake up as easily.

Heard a couple of semi-loud vehicles since I’ve been up (even some of the golf carts can be a little loud) and a few car stereos, one of which was in the park. Probably a visitor.

It’s a 24-hour world these days and things definitely aren’t what they were 20-30 years ago or even since the last time we lived in the city a little over a decade ago. I even hear things at night and this is a retirement community. I hear semi-loud vehicles go through here every 1-2 hours throughout the night, including a motorcycle that is a little more than just semi-loud and sometimes visits someone for an hour or so. Why you would do this at 2 AM is beyond me but the park told me ages ago that they’re not doing anything wrong since a motorcycle is a form of transportation. You would have to be joyriding under management’s nose for them to do anything. Otherwise, everyone has a right to the transportation of their choice no matter how loud it is and no matter how late it is.

At night I also hear the vehicle that delivers the paper to those that still get it, car stereos on the freeway, and more small planes than anywhere I’ve ever lived before. If I can hear all this here then I’m guessing it’s the same almost anywhere in any city. Way back when, all I would hear at night was a passing train in the distance, but very rarely did I hear loud vehicles or even car stereos. The car stereos were bad in Oregon but they usually stopped in the evening.

So the long weekend is over, but at least he only works 4 days this week and then he’s on vacation!

Dyed my hair medium brown this evening and waiting for it to cool down so I can go bike riding. Was thinking I would ride down to the lake and give the ducks the rest of the rats’ bread from last week.

Aly shared a picture of herself and even though she was all broken out from her eczema I didn’t think she looked bad at all.

SUNDAY, MAY 27, 2018 Very tired now. It’s days like this when I think of going all-audio with my journal. The only problem is that audio isn’t searchable like text is unless I add tags for every subject I mention, big or small.

I slept shittily. Sometimes I woke up due to weird dreams and other times traffic. I don’t understand why I’ve become such a light sleeper if that’s even possible since I’ve been a light sleeper since 1990 when I stopped the Navane. Better yet, what’s with the bionic ears? The sound machines I’ve had in the past, like the air cleaner in Oregon and the box fan, weren’t nearly as loud as my current setup yet I wasn’t woken up nearly as much by traffic. Is that because there wasn’t as much loud traffic and I wasn’t as close to the road or is it just something about me? I even had a dream that I asked Tom these very questions. It’s probably just me. Phoenix was on a concrete foundation and I don’t remember much in the way of motorcycles but you did have delivery trucks and car stereos. Yet I slept through most of it with a box fan. I guess maybe something’s either cursing my sleep or I spent too many years in the boonies. Either way, sooner or later I’ve got to adapt cuz that’s what humans do. It’s just taking me a bit longer for some reason. Tom could sleep through daytime noise if he had to so that doesn’t mean I couldn’t learn to, too. We may be different people, but I’m just as human.

I also dreamed I was running from some guy. I ran out of what might have been a bedroom, into a hall, and then into another bedroom’s closet. Then I heard several people applauding so I knew my hiding spot was no secret.

In the last dream, Tom and I were either staying with or renting rooms in this older guy’s house. It was a large house too. Then one night we watched a documentary about him being suspected of murdering his mother. Not wanting him to think we were afraid of him and prepare to turn him in, I assured him that we knew he was innocent.

Not much else going on. I’m just very tired. I took a Zyrtec one of the times I woke up so maybe that’s part of it. Had a headache too, so I took ibuprofen. No lightheadedness these last couple of days but at the end of my day yesterday I had a little anxiety. Not the racy heart kind, the stab you in the chest kind where you feel waves of anxiety in the center of the chest. I didn’t skip my meds but I will if I have to between now and labs or anytime. I’m not going to be like a kid trying to get good grades so she can keep others off her ass.

Haven’t gone anywhere so far this weekend other than to Walgreens where I got the third Magic Velvet coloring book. First I got the butterfly theme, then the animals theme, and last night I got the ballerina theme. Did the whole thing in just a few hours. They’re fun!

Took a break from this entry for a 2-hour nap. That’s how tired I was. Loved that I only needed the air cleaner to drown out the planes, plus the fan cuz it was warm today. Wish that was all I needed in the daytime.

Finished Facebook Stalker by John Meaney, and now I’m listening to You Saw Too Much by Adam Nicholls. Both books are great, although the first one was riddled with so many typos and grammatical errors I’m surprised Amazon allowed it for publication. Then again, should anything about Amazon really surprise me all that much these days?

Decided to delete my Dreamwidth account but I still have LJ. It will take 30 days for it to be deleted. The shitty thing about those two accounts is that you have to delete entries one at a time. There’s no mass delete feature supposedly for security reasons. Maybe once this Dreamwidth account is gone I’ll delete what’s left of my LJ entries, create a new Dreamwidth account, and then cross-post stuff to have yet another backup and two more accounts with my story to live on long after I do. I still kind of like the idea of my story being out there for anyone to read for an indefinite number of years after I’m gone, even if not everyone would like it. I guess it’s just cool to think of leaving my own little digital footprint on the web. They say anything we put on it is forever anyway. It’s just a matter of who may see it.

SATURDAY, MAY 26, 2018 Did both my legs thoroughly today, and while the Nair doesn’t give me the same smooth feeling I get when I shave, it’s definitely a good product now that I’m older.

Got back from a walk with Tom just in time to hear that loud car. This isn’t the first time I’d just gotten back to hear it or hadn’t left quick enough not to hear it. Again, it makes me wonder if something up there wants me to hear it. Fucking thing ended up making three trips in and out between 5:00 - 8:00.

The rainbow daisy sticker wouldn’t adhere to the bedroom wall because of the stupid sandpaper-like substance that was mixed into the paint. Looks great on the bedroom door though!

Took some adorable pictures of these little ducklings at the lake but I took them with my phone and I don’t know how to share those online. I can share with Aly on WhatsApp but that’s about it.

I absolutely LOVE the dance routine done in The AO! I totally loved the ending of the show. I was a bit confused, however, and was like, wait a minute, what just happened there? Why didn’t they show the shooter? Where did Prairie go in the end?

There seemed to be a lot of loose ends and unanswered questions as well as contradictions but that was part of what made it so unique and interesting. I’m hoping the mystifying ending was actually setting the stage for a second season. It was an awesome show so I really hope there is a second season!

I loved how the show focused on the possibility of parallel lives, something I can’t say I believe in wholeheartedly but I definitely believe is much more likely than any kind of an afterlife, reincarnation, gods, etc. Scientifically, this makes more sense and I can see where it could be possible as opposed to other more popular beliefs that I think people are taught and in some cases brainwashed into believing due more to a fierce need to believe than anything else. No one wants to accept that their loved ones could be gone forever and the way you don’t let go of them is to tell yourself they live on in some kind of afterlife. Maybe they really do too, just not quite in the way many people think, and in infinite numbers.

What makes me think multiple universes and parallel lives are possible isn’t just the science behind the theory, but my dreams as well. Many of my dreams seem to be a telltale sign given how amazingly detailed some of them can be, but again, I can’t be certain of anything. I don’t think any of us really can be.

The dance moves seemed silly at first but then I came to really like the intricate routine even if it may seem like a silly way to enter another dimension. Who knows, though? If there are parallel universes and multiple copies of ourselves in other dimensions, maybe there is something as simple as dabbing catchup on our foreheads that would allow us access to them.

I would love to visit another dimension as would Tom so long as we could both go, but then we may find ourselves entering a shitty existence compared to this one and there may be no guarantees we could get back. And how would we know anyway? If we suddenly slipped into another dimension, would we be watching our other selves from the outside in? Or would we morph into our other being and not know the difference? Let’s just say the theory is a very interesting concept that brings about many questions.

I also began the second season of 13 Reasons Why and I can’t help but be amazed at just how different things are now than they were when I tried to kill myself in my teens over 30 years ago. There are still many people who handle this sort of thing poorly and can make the person almost wish they’d succeeded, but it really does seem like we’re living in a time where everyone is responsible for our own behavior but us. No one would ever think for a fraction of a second 30 years ago to hold someone legally responsible for influencing someone’s suicide.

I’ve always been an advocate for people being held accountable for their own actions but I do kind of have mixed feelings about this one, especially the suicide of minors. People really do influence us. Kids don’t just throw themselves out of windows and break their arms like I did because their lives are great. Many adults helped make and mold me into the suicidal teenager I once was. But that was 1983 and the only one who was blamed for it was me.

After knowing Aly for a decade, I shared my ordeal with her and she actually thanked me for sharing it with her. I was surprised in a way because it was the first time anyone actually thanked me for sharing the sad and scary experience. Usually, people don’t want to hear stuff like that. They want all fluff and sunshine and that’s another thing I sort of get. I can barely stand to check in on Facebook to pick up messages because of all the negativity there. It’s always the same old depressing shit and I can see where those that spend too much time on Facebook can end up feeling pretty miserable. Stay close to the whirlpool long enough and it’s going to suck you down in it, you know?

Last night I dreamed I was in a gay bar. Tons of people suddenly came running into the bar and I knew they were up to no good. Then I watched, horrified, as someone literally pulled someone’s head off but instead of there being all kinds of blood and gore, the person suddenly turned into a mannequin. They were just a headless one at that point.

Then it was nighttime and I was walking along a street corner somewhere that was fairly crowded. I decided the weather was nice and I would go get my bike which was somewhere nearby.

In another dream, I complimented someone’s colorful shoes and they actually gave them to me even though they were a size 7.

Later…

I haven’t decided for sure but I might give up on Bubbly for a while. Too many glitches. Too slow. Some of my posts lose the audio and there’s no play button visible on the post so I don’t know if I’m going to keep going with it.

Not much to update today other than some dreams. Even though it’s the evening I’ve chosen to work in the bedroom until Monday night because the car stereos on the freeway get to be too much in the living room. Again, a reality in most places or not, it’s pretty fucking sad. Like really fucking sad that I have to be run out of my own living room due to noise coming from hundreds of feet away.

There is nothing more selfish than those that constantly mention people they know damn well have been abusive to others. Yeah, that would be my nieces who still mention their bastard father every few days. They really are going to have a rough life if they still can’t move on at least a little, and they’re hurting themselves at the same time they’re annoying people like me and I would think Tammy as well. Bastard’s been dead nearly 2 years now, though I have a feeling Tammy isn’t nearly as bothered by the regular reminders of his sorry existence as I am.

And Sarah’s constant selfies that all look the same, argh! Is she really that desperate for compliments? For confirmation that she’s still attractive despite her weight? I know it’s their account and they can post whatever they want, but this is why I rarely follow them. Same old shit every time I check.

So the dreams. All my rats died in one of them except for Simon, but in reality, none of them show any signs of the end being near. I’m sure if they were as wonderful as Tinkerbell they would be dead by now. The question is, even though it seems I’ve been destined to get nothing but shy rats with the exception of Tinkerboy and Sugar since coming to this state, it may be hard not to get new rats between these rats and whenever we get a dog. I kind of miss baby rats. I love how soft their fur is and the way they can climb and jump so easily while they’re still young, thin and agile.

In another dream, Tom and I must have had a daughter that was one or two years old. We were bringing her to the ER. While Tom went in with her I waited by the reception area and noticed that the receptionists had cots instead of chairs so they could lay back and relax when they weren’t dealing with customers.

Then I realized I didn’t have my purse with me and began to freak out that it had been stolen even though I didn’t remember leaving it anywhere. Hoping I had just forgotten to take it with me, I did find it sitting on a chair at home later on and was so relieved.

“I would have had to get a new ID and all that had it been stolen,” I said to Tom who nodded knowingly.

THURSDAY, MAY 24, 2018 Two nights ago I dreamed something about deciding when I would post something about 9-11 on my Facebook wall. I guess it was that time of year and I was deciding whether or not I wanted to share any remembrance memes about it.

Then I dreamed I was trapped in this building with no way out. It was after dark and a group of people was locking up for the night when I ran to catch up with them so I wouldn’t get locked inside. As I reached for my phone to call Tom I realized I didn’t know his number and I guess I didn’t have it on the phone either, so between that and worrying that he might not answer anyway, I woke up as I was about to panic in the dream.

The new bathroom light came today along with another one of those Magic Velvet coloring books. It’s five bucks for just 6 colorings but I love the velvet backgrounds in the way patterns are revealed as you color.

Believe it or not, we’re in for a storm. And when I say storm I don’t mean anything like what Arizona or Florida gets but just some wind and rain and cooler-than-normal temperatures. It’s definitely not a good evening to go on a bike ride mostly because of the wind and because I’m tired. Took a Zyrtec last night before bed because I was a little itchy and it may have left me with next-day drowsiness. Something’s got me tired today but I am anxiety-free which is most important. Started off a little light-headed but I’m okay now.

The Twenties really can’t go more than a couple of weeks without projects. This week it was Closet World. At least this project was on the inside of the house and not the outside, even if I still have to hear the door slamming of whatever service vehicle they use.

I was surprised when Aly’s doctor said she might actually have hyperthyroidism instead of hypothyroidism but she’ll know for sure soon. Really hope she doesn’t have to take my medication. They treat hyperthyroidism with iodine.

She mentioned using Nair instead of having to shave her legs and I decided to pick myself up some today when we went to Walmart earlier. I think it’s way better for older people as one of the benefits to aging, yes there are a few benefits, is that you have less body hair, and the hairs that you do have tend to be thinner.

I heard from Tammy today and she sounded surprisingly wonderful. I didn’t hear any congestion or wheezing in her voice. She sounded very clear and easy to understand. Just maybe she will live to the ripe old age of 80-something as long as she keeps up on her health.

She said that yes, it is possible to go deaf from fluid behind the ear from allergies and that he needs antibiotics. She also mentioned something you breathe that’s steamy and a prescription allergy pill.

Tom said that other than the stupid Flonase the urgent care doctor recommended, he doesn’t feel like he has allergies. I just wonder if he’s going to be able to get in to see anyone in the first place. He does have an appointment scheduled for August with the doctor he’s been seeing but I know he would rather not return to him. He left a message with my ENT but hasn’t heard back from her yet.

Also, he’s having trouble getting ahold of our eye doctor. I know she only has one receptionist but what is it with this fucking place? Why is it so hard to be seen here?

I’m deaf in my left ear and he’s deaf in his right ear. I would love to swap right ears until tomorrow afternoon because then I could sleep through the trash and recycle trucks coming through tomorrow. Yeah, I’m on nights now.

She said that as for my vision, it could be my devices just like in her case. I thought of that and I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s it. Those harsh LED lights definitely are good for our eyes which is exactly why I’m banning naked bulbs from this home and getting things with globes or some kind of frosted fixture.

Was glad that a few people I shared the pic of my little red dot with that I have on my back don’t think it’s psoriasis. We could be wrong but I think I agree it’s probably not. Based on the images I’ve looked at, psoriasis seems to be a lot more widespread than just that one spot. As for the flat dry patches, I do live in a relatively dry climate and I am older so maybe that’s all it is. Even Tom has some dry spots. I hope it’s no big deal because the last thing I want to do is go collecting AI diseases like I once collected dolls or something.

Supposedly Alexa recorded and emailed a private conversation a woman was having with her husband to one of her email contacts. I’d love to know what they said, LOL. Why not, her contacts know.

I’m not worried about it, though. I mean I’m not stupid. I know she’s listening. All the time. But we don’t say anything scandalous enough to be worth hitting the mute button. Sure makes you wonder what people feel they have to hide, though. I also wonder if the friend received an audio recording or a printed transcript. I’m just the curious type, especially when it comes to tech stuff.

So last night I dreamed that Bob and Virginia were still our neighbors but the houses looked different and there was more space around the sides of them as Virginia got in their car and drove around to the other side of their place to check on something. Then Bob called me from an open window and asked how I liked his Halloween mask. It kind of reminded me of the hockey mask that Jason Voorhees wore, LOL.

Then I went on to tell him some story from my childhood. Something my dad may have done for some special occasion.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 23, 2018 The question I asked Tammy required a simple yes, no or I don’t know. So did she give me an answer I didn’t get then? I know two of my voice messages won’t play on my phone but they play just fine on the laptop. That’s Facebook for you and part of why I rarely use it. No privacy, glitches galore, having to hear about people I can’t stand, having to hear about issues I’m sick of…

It turns out that all I had to do to get my large monitor working again was just reboot it. Duh. I really am stupid at times. Still, I don’t mind alternating between the living room and bedroom depending on the time of day or night. So I’m back to my old setup.

Tom tried to make us eye exam appointments today and to get someone to see him about his ear but they’re closed today. This is getting to be ridiculous. Just fucking ridiculous. Each day that goes by he’s losing his chances of getting his hearing restored. I would enjoy the peace but he really wants it back. I’d love to sue these bastards for neglect but the problem is that more often than not with his case there doesn’t seem to be a reason why. If it’s eventually determined that there was a cause and it could have been fixed, then we may have grounds to sue.

Life is so unfair at times! I have a sleep disorder that prevents me from working yet I don’t qualify for disability because I didn’t work enough years in the past and wasn’t always disabled in this way. Our government is so twisted. But of course, it works great if you’re not from here.

Although I really hope I’m wrong, I could be breaking out with psoriasis. I really hope not! I don’t need to add a fourth autoimmune disease to my list. I’ve had enough shit in life. Just battling the poison I have to take for my thyroid can be more than enough to handle at times. But I’ve got about half a dozen questionable spots on my skin and both that and the LP could get worse and eventually take over my entire body.

Speaking of my dumbass body, last night it made its biggest attempt to kick off a period in quite a while. I was getting crampy, retaining water, and worried that I might actually get one but so far the coast is clear.

Now that our house is celebrating its 35th birthday, things are getting old and needing replacements, including the master bathroom light over the sink. A new one is on the way. It’s not the prettiest design which is okay because we’re not going to be here forever but I like how there are no “naked” bulbs. I wanted something with some kind of globe that’s frosted because then it’s less harsh on my eyes, which are quickly going to hell and not in a hurry to return anytime soon. I’m getting the brushed nickel which I really like.

Also getting a large colorful rainbow daisy to put in the second bedroom which will add a splash of color to that room. You’ll be able to see it all the way down the hall.

TUESDAY, MAY 22, 2018 In my own personal opinion, I see kids as freedom-sucking, smelly, noisy, messy and expensive and I don’t know why I considered one of my own for a few years way back when. This is the US where we don’t usually get pressured as much into having kids. If anything, it’s just the opposite. Despite my opinion on kids, however, they’re still human and so I kind of feel bad for the royal children always having to be in the spotlight and never being allowed to be just children. Instead of having to put on a show for the camera or their “special” and “important” guests or something like that, shouldn’t they be off playing somewhere? Just because I haven’t wanted my own doesn’t mean I like to see them abused in any way and while they may not be “abused” in the literal sense of the word, let them be kids for God’s sake! Teach them manners and respect so they don’t go running around screaming in stores and restaurants like they often do here, but let them be kids.

The boy my buddy nannies for is rather brilliant from what I hear. He’s like us in that he’s very curious by nature and always wants to know how things work and why they are the way they are. He likes to learn and understand things. So when she told him of some symptoms I experienced yesterday, the little guy decided I either had high blood pressure, malnutrition, or a lack of sleep. LOL, he might have nailed the first one.

I’m a little concerned as to why my vision has taken such a nosedive (the large monitor is just as blurry as the small one) but no, I don’t have diabetes. I’m too active. I didn’t make a career of parking my ass in front of a TV day and night like my mother, who was a diabetic. I guess the apple doesn’t always fall too close to the tree!

Speaking of my large monitor, I can’t get the damn thing to work. No matter what I do I keep getting “no signal.” So if I’m going to be blind anyway, I might as well just enjoy the convenience of working only on the laptop (although I will keep my full-size keyboard and mouse) because that way I can move around the house more easily. It would still be nice to be in the living room at night even if I hear freeway car stereos in the warmer weather. They’re part of the natural soundscape in 99% of the country anyway and I’m a little more used to that as long as it isn’t too close, too loud, or for too long. This is the first place, however, that I’ve ever lived in that had daily landscaping so it’s taking longer to adapt to the daily buzz.

Aly and I have been having fun playing with scammers. I get tons of emails from them but she doesn’t and kind of wishes she would so she could have fun playing with them as well. So I’ll use speech-to-text on the phone while running it on my laptop which isn’t nearly as accurate, send them a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, make sure the message doesn’t bounce, and then forward it to her so she can have her turn playing with them. LOL, it’s kind of like making prank phone calls all over again only it’s digital and perfectly legal.

Last night I had some dream about trying on these loafers I thought looked boring but were very comfortable and then I guess I was in labor. Some woman said something about getting me shaved and then I said something about selling or giving a Barbie doll away.

“Don’t you want to know if your Barbie doll is valuable first?” the woman asked me, but I assured her with confidence that I knew which ones were worth money and which ones weren’t.

Then Tom was telling me he could hear the phone in the neighboring house ringing from his bedroom and I said I could hear it in the last house, whatever that meant.

Lastly, I glanced out a window and saw a cat and dog engaged in a vicious fight and was surprised neither of them was hurt.

MONDAY, MAY 21, 2018 Skipping my meds today to see how I do. So far I seem to be a little less lightheaded but if any of the symptoms I’ve been having are connected to the drug, I’m going to feel residual effects for months. The fact that it’s lessened and that I don’t have any anxiety confirms my suspicion even more. I’m definitely going to give my doctor an ultimatum, either change my medication or lower my dose to 50. If she won’t do that, fuck her. At that point, I’ll decide whether or not to seek a new doctor or just give up on my health altogether for a while.

The crystals reflecting the sunlight streaming through the carport in the late afternoon cast what looks like a bunch of flying rainbows in the dining and living room area. It looks so cool.

I wasn’t anxious yesterday but I was lightheaded. My vision is way worse too, especially in my right eye. I’m wearing an old pair of bifocals and I find it’s a bit easier to see with those than with my progressives. I wonder what that means.

It’s weird how he and I are going blind and deaf all of a sudden only I would prefer to have his problem. I’m already mostly deaf in one ear but I’m used to it and my other ear makes up for it. He wants his hearing back but I keep telling him he’s not missing anything but annoying sounds that he says he doesn’t mind. Wish I didn’t mind hearing landscaping every single day, along with the traffic/planes, and freeway car stereos that can be heard in the front part of the house, especially on warmer nights. I’ll never understand why most people aren’t bothered by such sounds but obviously, most people don’t mind daily landscaping, power tools and other equipment running, traffic or loud music. If enough people were bothered by these things there would be stricter laws regulating them. That’s one area I would love to be “normal” in! You do adapt somewhat the more you’re exposed to something but some things are easier to get used to than others.

What’s a little worrisome about Tom’s case is that according to his research, if you don’t regain hearing within two weeks you probably never will. The way they treat it is either with steroids or a steroid injection directly into the ear. Ouch!

It’s pretty fucked up that he can’t get in soon enough to have a chance to regain his hearing. They could at least give him a hearing test to see how much he’s lost but no. It’s ridiculous the way we have to fight with doctors, their incompetent staff, and the fucking insurance companies. I thought about moving to a country that has Universal Health Care but that wouldn’t necessarily mean the doctors would be any better than they are here. Who knows? I just know that I get so frustrated at times that I really miss all those years I didn’t see doctors or need medication during the first 14 years or so of the millennium. If they keep this shit up I just might return to those days.

Even scarier was this case he read where a woman went deaf in one ear and eventually lost the other ear as well. That would be absolutely horrible if he ended up totally deaf! He doesn’t have a knack for languages like I do whether they’re spoken or signed, and getting him to learn to sign and read signs would be a real challenge. It’s even difficult for me to read some signers if they’re sloppy, and yes, just like some people write sloppy, some people don’t exactly make their ASL easy to read. It would just make life really hard for him and I know he would hate it. Sometimes I think I wouldn’t mind the peace that it would bring even if it meant never hearing music again, but I know there would be plenty of hardships along with the peace. Still, if one of us absolutely had to go deaf, I would certainly rather it not be him. Anyway, he’s going to be contacting the insurance company. He also has to take the car to be smog tested.

Having just gotten royalty payments for book sales in India, Japan and the UK, I’m now thinking that perhaps Amazon hasn’t been ripping off its authors like I thought they were. Still doesn’t explain why they couldn’t reply to my messages, but maybe the only problem was sales not showing up on my book sale reports and not that I wasn’t getting paid. Guess I’ll leave my books on their shelves and get back to work. Going to finish up a couple of stories I’m doing just for fun, including the Palma story, and then I guess I’ll get serious again. This means going through and editing old stuff as well as fine-tuning any current stuff I may decide to submit for publication.

We went to Rite Aid yesterday and I got bright mint green nail polish with a colorful confetti topcoat. Like I needed just one more bottle of nail polish, LOL.

Also got this blue and green glass dragonfly that you clip onto plant pots. It didn’t quite fit on the pot my cactus is in so I stuck it on the upper arm of the bench swing.

Lastly, we got a couple of sweet treats and I finally found a pair of those clog slippers I’ve been wanting to try in size small. They have a leopard pattern on them. They’re cheaper than the ones I was going to get on Amazon.

Took my bike out earlier and I don’t know why my heart had to be pounding its ass off after just two rounds around the circle but it was. At least it settled down fast enough and I didn’t freak out or anything like that. As I was coming around in back I spotted Mary exiting her car in her garage and said hello. She said hi and remembered meeting me last summer and the house I live in but didn’t remember my name. She said at 86 she’s entitled to have a bad memory. Then she goes, “Wait a minute. I had a birthday yesterday. I’m 87 now.”

LMAO! She cracks me up. I like her.

She complimented my bike and said that because I’m “so little” I can get youths’ bikes. Actually, I think it’s a woman’s bike. It didn’t really specify child or adult but since it has a rider height range of 4 ft 6 in - 5 ft 6 in, it could be either. My helmet is definitely a kid’s helmet. I can’t exactly fit into all grown-up things.

Anyway, Mary said she could see where it would be noisier where our house is due to all the traffic since we’re right on a busy road and all that. Yes, and I can see where her place would be quieter being in back by the cemetery. She would still hear some landscaping and definitely freeway traffic but she wouldn’t hear nearly as much traffic inside the park.

So then I rode back around the circle and there was Joe putting the mail in the mailboxes. I spotted Bob and Virginia just beyond him sitting on their patio and Virginia said something like, “Wow, you’re ablaze with color.”

Between my bike, outfit and helmet, yeah, I was a little colorful. Joe said I looked like Mrs. Pee-wee Herman, LOL. I asked if that was good or bad and he just laughed. Well, I’m definitely colorful, weird and eccentric but I wouldn’t want the real Mrs. Pee-wee sitting on me. She could probably crush me!

So my bike ride turned into a social chat but with all good people. I even exchanged hellos with Mr. Twenties when I was dumping trash on the other side of the house.

I had some interesting dreams last night. I had a second dream suggesting I’m done with periods, and then something about the black bitch in Arizona’s daughter dying.

Then I was taking a shower in this bathroom that had a radio built into its doorknob and I was trying to figure out how to work it.

Most interesting was that I had a dream that my thyroid numbers were normal. My T4 is but there’s no way my TSH is.

SUNDAY, MAY 20, 2018 Signing in on what’s been a very busy weekend so far. I’m probably the only one who didn’t give a damn about the royal wedding. I just don’t care about watching people I don’t even know get married, and well, it’s just a wedding. People get married all the time. It would really be nice, however, if Meghan didn’t have kids and reminded women, particularly outside of the US, that there’s more to life than just having kids, but I’m sure she’ll be cranking them out whether she wants to or not.

As has become the norm for me, I don’t feel all that great. Very lightheaded and even had some anxiety yesterday, but today it hasn’t set in yet. Going from warm to cold and noticed my vision has gotten worse rather quickly too, especially my right eye. Acceptance will come, I’m sure, but it’s been hard. To know you’re going to feel like shit more days than not for the rest of your life is a tough pill to swallow. But I’ve accepted other things and while I may not like most of them, I’ve come to accept that they are what they are and they’re never going to change. So someday, as hard as it may be to imagine right now, I’ll accept that I’m going to be lightheaded, anxious or something almost every day. It’s now a matter of treating myself for quality of life with these issues and not for fixing the problems altogether as they’re not going away any more than my vision is going to improve or the daily landscaping and other noise is suddenly going to disappear.

Tom’s out working on the bikes now. Whoever put my bike together overtightened the wheel bearings. Yesterday I took my new bike for its first trip down to the lake and back and it was a little tough. It’s better now, though. I’m still getting into riding shape and I still have a cruiser on the wrong terrain, and my tires lost 10 pounds of pressure. He’s going to add some stuff that will stop any potential leaks I may have in the tires and pump them back up.

We installed the new chandelier yesterday which is absolutely gorgeous. It’s just my shit luck, though, that as soon as we turn the electricity off and I have no sound machine to drown it out with, some asshole starts up with a really loud blower. Really wish this park would make a rule against weekend landscaping. It’s bad enough I have to listen to it every single day during the week. Yet I’m sure that some house will be worked on around here any minute now and the daily buzz will be on. Still can’t believe all the shit you hear around here. Today it’s music coming from the picnic at the clubhouse and we’re nowhere near the clubhouse. But it’s okay because I can’t hear it inside the house with the fan on.

Amazingly, no one did any projects last week. The Twenties had their SUV pulled around in front of their place and I first thought, oh no, what kind of company or service vehicle is coming over for me to have to deal with now? It turned out to be a Salvation Army truck. I guess they were donating something. Other than some annoying banging, they weren’t there long.

Tom also put the new door-closer on the back screen door. I love how you tap a button to hold it open and then you just push the door a few inches wider and it automatically closes. And it’s where I can reach it too!

He sprayed the kitchen faucet with Lime Away because it was hard to swivel from side to side.

We finished arranging offices for the most part as well. I’m now in the bedroom full-time. I think it’s pretty fucking sad that I have to do this in a retirement community of all places. This is how I lived in Phoenix, deciding my setup based on the quietest spots in the house. Just when I think I’m done with something forever, I find I’m really not. If I’m still having to do this shit this late in life, then it’s obvious I always will. I accept it even though I don’t like it. Maybe someday I’ll be able to accept that I’m going to suffer from some shitty feeling more days than not for the rest of my life. Yesterday I was light-headed and I felt a little anxious as well, as I said. I cut my waiting time to 20 minutes today but I’m sure that at some point today the anxiety will set in.

So, while it’s a bit cramped, it’s at least functional as far as my office goes. I don’t care as much about appearance in this place because we’re not going to be here forever. I don’t think it looks too bad, though. The monitor sits atop the desk I used in the trailer and I’ve got his new little desk on wheels in front of it for my laptop and full-size keyboard. He’s using another little table for now and will order another desk like this since I pretty much stole it from him, LOL. Behind me, on the beanbag, sits the doll.

I was surprised to see Ray out walking his dog yesterday and there’s no sale pending or sold sign by his house either. Then what was the moving truck I saw there last week? Maybe it was for the house further down that’s for sale.

Last week I talked to Marie and she even left a couple of voice messages. She is much easier to understand than Aly. She talks clearly and articulates better whereas Aly tends to mumble. She claims she’s done with relationships and needs to just get on with her life and stop farting around since she’s 52 and all that. She says she’s still smoking but claims she’s gotten a great job delivering pets around the country, has her own apartment, and is supposedly off the booze and psych drugs.

People don’t usually change this late in life, so I have my doubts. Some people just can’t move on. Wouldn’t be surprised if my niece were still doing the I-miss-my-dead-daddy memes every few days when they’re 52. Some people get stuck in a rut and they just can’t move on. Marie is one of them. I don’t know what happened to her as a child, but it’s obviously been affecting her as if it just happened yesterday. She just doesn’t get that while we may never forget, we really do have to move on someday otherwise will never truly live. I never forgot the freeloaders and would torture them in a heartbeat if I could get away with it. It’s been hard to move on, but if I didn’t, that’d be letting them win.

I didn’t hear from Aly the day before yesterday and my first thought was that she was in the hospital or her dog died since she believes that a neighbor fed him a poisonous herb that was anti-Pitbull. Turns out her father was in the hospital instead. I guess he’s got heart issues and something wrong with his kidneys.

I can’t remember much of my dreams these last two nights. Something about following someone down a dark street on a bike. I was riding one of the person’s bikes but it was so old and crappy I could barely pedal it. So I stopped and walked it back to the house which seemed to be a large two-story house on a street where the houses were closely set together. I looked across the street and saw a couple of dogs grazing a yard and for a brief instant, I worried they may attack me. Then it went pitch black and I couldn’t see a thing.

Then Tom and I were watching this guy in some movie that I was supposedly dating, LOL. I said to Tom, imagine Tammy’s reaction when I tell her I’m seeing this guy?

He nodded knowingly.

Then I dreamed of running into some woman I’d recently met who was in a small eatery off of a grocery store. I addressed her by the wrong name and then she corrected me by saying her name was something like Fioria. I explained that my memory wasn’t what it used to be. She had a little girl with her.

Then I went back to the grocery store which I’d momentarily left because it had gone pitch dark in there. Now that it was light, however, I began my shopping.

FRIDAY, MAY 18, 2018 Should’ve figured that how great I felt yesterday was the exception and not the norm seeing that I’m a little lightheaded today. At least I’m not anxious. But yeah, yesterday I was totally “normal” and totally felt like my old self. No lightheadedness, no anxiety, no nothing but a whole lot of noise. Traffic and landscaping nonstop. I don’t care if “that’s just life” or if “that’s just the world we live in.” Sometimes I just don’t want to hear it, okay?

Still worried the bastard with the loud car is preparing to move back in because they seem to be getting “testy,” especially if they moved because of complaints. I remember how it was after a while would pass after complaining about the freeloaders. Rather than going back to their old shit right away, they would slowly test the waters to see how much they might be able to get away with the next time around as if hoping people would “forget” or simply not notice them or care and bother to report them. It just seems like it’s human nature or something. But now that they’re visiting twice a day, they might as well just move back in.

I think it’s pretty sad that there’s a shooting practically every day in our nation’s schools. What is this world coming to?

And as for the guy that went on the rant about people not speaking English in the US… I’m not so much opposed to Spanish being spoken as I am to Spanish speakers not learning English. It’s great to be multilingual. It opens up a lot of opportunities when you go to other countries, online, etc. It’s good brain exercise too, which studies have proven helps guard against dementia later on in life. BUT… If you’re going to move to another country, it’s okay to speak your native language with other native speakers but it’s not okay not to learn the country’s main language. If I can learn other languages so can you! I can read, write and speak three other languages and I can read a few more. You mean to tell me you can’t learn just one language? Just one?

What’s funny was one of the comments on a comment Tammy made in support of this lawyer who was going on the rant. Did most people support the foreigners? Well, of course. But it was funny how Tammy said that if you don’t like speaking English here, get back on your boats and get the hell out, and someone replied with, “You don’t need a boat to go to Mexico.”

LOL, True. And of course there were plenty of others who got on her, calling her old, jealous that she couldn’t speak another language herself, etc. I think she eventually deleted her comments.

Sometimes I think she’s way more of a hater than I’ve become. I wonder just how “accepting” of my sexuality she really is.

The bean bag came yesterday and OMG is it huge! And it’s not literally “beans” but shredded foam. When they said 5 feet, they meant 5 feet, but the color doesn’t look like it did online. This looks like the color of grapes. Online it looked more like a royal purple. With or without the doll, I’m glad I got it. It’s very comfy and will be easy to take with us when we move. There’s a zipper going around it so I guess I can unzip it, reach in and break up some of the foam to even it out. I’m not going to be sitting on it, though, the doll is. I doubt she’ll mind any clumps under her ass. :-)

Started watching The OA on Netflix and after that, I’ll watch the second season of 13 Reasons Why.

Later…

The more I get to know certain people, the more I see just how hateful and immature they can be. I thought I was bad at times. I can totally see hating or at least having some resentment and reservations when it comes to certain things and groups that have been a proven threat to society. We all have our pet peeves. It’s just that it’s not “politically correct” to say so. But in my opinion, when you automatically hate certain types of people who have never done a damn thing to you and haven’t shown themselves to be detrimental to society in any way, that’s just plain fear. That’s just downright fear, insecurity, and self-hatred.

It makes me wonder just how many people I may have overestimated as far as their acceptance of me goes and the fact that I’m bisexual, for ex. Like Tammy. How many people, including her, may I have had in my life that weren’t nearly as accepting of GLBT folks as I gave them credit for?

I can see where sometimes being around certain types of people can make us uncomfortable because we’re not used to them, we don’t understand them, or we’re just not interested and therefore we can’t really relate. But how many of these people that seem to be okay with those who are harmless albeit different than them in some ways, really accept GLBTs? If you’re not okay with someone being in the military or adopting children simply because of how they are, maybe you’re not as accepting as you think. Again, to have ill feelings towards those who have committed major atrocities around the world is one thing, but I would be genuinely worried for myself and wonder what the hell was wrong with me if I felt that way towards someone due to their sexuality that never touched an underage person or made anyone do anything that they didn’t want to do. To hate someone for the savage acts they’ve committed is one thing, but if you’re going to hate gays, is that much different than hating someone because they may have red hair? Maybe some people should take a good long look at themselves in the mirror and ask themselves just how “okay” they are with “those people” because I’m one of those people, and you’re welcome to exit my life if you have a problem with “those people.” No one is obligated to stay in my life but my husband. Just saying. And don’t give me that, “I don’t have a problem with them as long as they don’t hold hands around me” crap. But it’s okay for straights to hold hands around you? Sorry, but if it’s only okay for some people to do the same things that are okay for others to do, then you’ve got a problem and therefore I have a problem with you.

THURSDAY, MAY 17, 2018 Pretty sad that it’s May 17th and I have to turn the heat on to take the chill out. The house got down to 67°! And there I was thinking summer was finally here. The afternoons are nice, though.

For some reason, maybe because I slept so long the night before, I was up 19 hours and I barely slept for 6 so I’m a little tired today. At least I’m not anxious and am less lightheaded today than I was yesterday. I was super lightheaded at the beginning of my day yesterday.

Tom made it to Urgent Care yesterday and didn’t have to wait as long as we thought he would have to wait. He filled out the paperwork that he got online which probably saved time right there. It also didn’t cost anything as it’s considered a regular doctor’s appointment, so that’s good too. The doctor he saw thinks it’s allergies. We’re both a little surprised. Never heard of allergies making you deaf. She said she normally would recommend Sudafed but you’re not supposed to take that with blood pressure medicine, so she recommended Flonase instead. That’s similar to the Nasacort that I snort up on once or twice a week to keep the wild sneezing fits at bay.

He said maybe he’ll see my ENT if he isn’t better by then because he would really like his hearing back. “No, you wouldn’t,” I told him. “The world is too noisy. Why would you want to hear landscaping, traffic, planes and all the other shit you hear around here?”

He said he almost overslept because he was lying on his good ear when Alexa said it was time to get up.

Now THAT bitch has bionic ears. I just said her name into the speech-to-text as softly as I could and she still heard me. LOL

I’m just grateful that he doesn’t have anything serious. Hopefully, this doctor knew what she was doing because as I’ve learned, doctors are only human and they do make mistakes. Sometimes they can be just as bad as cops and lawyers. The difference is that they’re allowed to get away with it.

Or maybe not. Aly called for her lab results and they said they didn’t have anything on file and that her doctor was fired. So I guess all three of us are soon to be on the hunt for new PCPs.

As I was telling her yesterday, I’m really grateful for her friendship because I feel that I can tell her anything and she’s very open-minded and understanding. She can relate to a lot of things that I’ve shared with her and we have so much in common. While I generally don’t mind diversity as long as nothing is forced on me, I can’t deny that it’s nice to have a friend like me who is kind of between agnostic and atheist. There’s nothing more annoying than having to hear God this and God that in nearly every single conversation I may have with someone. It’s just that many believers tend to act like you totally agree with them and you have to stop and remind them that you only nodded or said “yeah” not because you agree but because you’re acknowledging that you heard what they said.

Another thing I like is that she always asks how I’m doing and doesn’t just contact me to tell me about herself.

I know nothing is guaranteed in life. Friendships come and go and while I hope we will always be friends from here on out, I know I can’t count on anything and therefore I just enjoy what I can.

I now have a lovely pink basket on my bike with a beautiful tie-dye helmet sitting in it. Not sure I’ll go out riding today because I’m tired. I think I’ll mostly make it a writing day. Poor Tom, though, LOL. He got an extra-large helmet yet his head is too big for it. Meanwhile, I got a kitty helmet and mine fits me perfectly!

WEDNESDAY, MAY 16, 2018 You know what? I’m really getting sick of this anti-American bullshit going on. Suddenly, we Americans are all fucked in the head because we’ve got a fucked up president, but you know what else? I didn’t vote for Trump. In fact, I didn’t vote at all. As a bisexual female who is an atheist, why would I vote for a guy who, closeted gay or not, only seems to have a heart for straight, white male Christians? Well, I wouldn’t if voting was my thing. I personally have never cared to vote. Politics just isn’t my cup of tea.

Back to the anti-American shit. As for the drama going on with the Jews and Palestinians, I do agree that regardless of what side you’re on, countries should keep more to themselves and mind their own business and quit trying to fight the battles of others. It’s on them and it’s their problem. However, I have nothing to do with it simply because I’m American. I didn’t make the Palestinians provoke the Jews into retaliating.

The point is that not every American agrees with Trump and wants to stick their nose in other countries’ business. So what are we going to do then? Hate every German because of Hitler? Hate every Muslim because some of them think that those who aren’t a carbon copy of themselves should be eradicated? Hate every black because some of them love to play the race card and go gang-banging? Hate every Hispanic because some of them like to sit on their asses and collect welfare at the taxpayers’ expense? Go ahead then, hate me because I’m an American in a country with a shitty president. Your opinion is as worthless to me as the grain of dirt on the ground I just walked on. :-)

What is it with me sleeping ten hours lately, waking up exhausted, then ending my day a bit early and in exhaustion as well? Could it be all the extra exercise that my body isn’t yet used to? Well, I’m taking the day off. Twice this is happened, although I suppose it isn’t hurting anything. My schedule is still progressing as it usually does.

And where the hell must so many planes have to fly to at 1:40 in the morning like they were?

Got to enjoy a really cool thunderstorm with heavy rain which is a rarity here, especially at this time of year. Of course some landscaping noise had to ruin it. It didn’t last long but the thunder definitely got loud enough to have woken me up had I been asleep. So I’m glad I’m up. I just wish I didn’t feel so damn lightheaded and could stop going from hot to cold and that my HR didn’t jump into the triple digits. I don’t know, maybe I am still in perimenopause. I just wish I knew how much of this could be connected to the meds. Damn, though! Just fucking damn! I am SO sick of not feeling well most days. I’m beyond sick of it! Since going to the doctor for the first time in over a decade I’ve felt worse, not better.

Tom should be making his way to Urgent Care soon now that we finally know where to go. I called Mercy yesterday and the bitch gave me the wrong location even though I told her what our insurance was and that we had a PPO. Tom went to our insurance company’s website and found a place that accepts our insurance. It’s still going to cost enough to make me think that maybe we should retire in a country that has universal healthcare because it’s just not going to happen in this country in our lifetime if it ever does. I don’t want to have to spend half our retirement on Healthcare.

Tom will need to get a new PCP. He’s certainly not going to go back to Dr. F since he wouldn’t even make time for him like any decent doctor should in a case like this. So he has to decide if he wants to stick with Mercy or go with Sutter. I thought we had to stick with one or the other but I guess not. It all depends on who takes our insurance and not the Medical Group itself.

Last night I had a strange dream that Kim was either sick or had some kind of procedure done and was recovering in some house or hotel I was staying in. Someone said I could stay with her if I wanted to but I guess I didn’t want to.

Then I had a long dream about Aly that wasn’t very good at all. First, Tom was on his way to bed, telling me he was worried he wouldn’t get enough sleep. I texted Aly then to tell her a female friend, who seemed to be a lot younger than me, named Lori, was picking me up to take us out to eat. I enjoyed her company at the restaurant and felt at the time that we would always be friends.

“Hey, when I want to hang out with a friend at 11 at night, what else am I supposed to do?” I said, glad to know she was available at that time.

Then Lori was driving me home and I reached into the back seat of her car where she had a huge pile of incense. I said I would just grab whatever I could reach first and she said “Patchouli.”

Patchouli was exactly what I grabbed, too.

Then she said, “Make sure you rub it all over your tits and have (some male name that wasn’t Tom’s?) lick it off.”

I laughed as if that was hilarious as hell.

Once back home, I found that Aly had ghosted me without any explanation at all. She disappeared from Twitter, disappeared from Prosebox, and her number was no longer any good. She had either blocked me or changed numbers.

If this became a reality it wouldn’t be the most shocking thing to ever happen to me since I’ve been dumped before, both with and without explanations, but I hope it doesn’t happen. Sure is hard to believe it would happen anytime soon if it ever did.

Good God. It’s raining, thundering, and 53°. So a motorcycle tearing through here was the last thing I would’ve expected today.

TUESDAY, MAY 15, 2018 Today I’m kind of pissed off at Tom’s doctor and I’m glad I didn’t see him. Actually, I’m not kind of pissed, I am pissed. The fucking cock won’t see him for two weeks and was advised by his staff to go to urgent care and wouldn’t even tell him where it was. I just called our medical group, told them where we live, and she said to go to San Juan’s MD Stat in Citrus Heights. But when I looked it up it said it’s in Fair Oaks. Either way, I Skyped the info to Tom.

He feels pretty sure his ear is infected and while we would like for him to go to urgent care, he doesn’t exactly have time to wait for 12 hours to be told to follow up with a doctor that doesn’t have any regular appointments until August. Any decent doctor should be able to get you in within a week. All of mine have except for the first endo I had that told me to come in that day or she couldn’t see me for 5 months, which was bullshit.

If anything happens to Tom along the way, that’s his doctor’s ass. Maybe he can switch to my doctor who is good with everything but those affected in the wrong way by thyroid medication. She’s further away, though.

Tammy’s back home recovering. I thought she was released days ago. She had a huge infection of her own. Of course she didn’t ask about us. Even though I’m sure she’s reading my journal, it still would be nice. She did say she loved the picture I colored for her.

I’m still lightheaded on and off but today I feel better emotionally than I did yesterday. I decided not to skip my meds today but to cut the waiting time out. I realize that if these are indeed side effects from the meds, cutting the time may absorb its beneficial effects, but not the side effects. Like I said, I’ve been beating my head in the wall trying to figure out the same shit for years now. Like most things, I can narrow it down to a handful of culprits, but can never isolate them for sure or know exactly what to do about them. Having Sleepytime Detox tea and using Gold Bond powder seems to help with my anxiety and rash the most, so maybe I need to use them more regularly.

I submitted a short dialogue to Duolingo Stories but may not know for a few weeks if it’s going to be chosen. Thinking it may help my chances, I republished my books on Amazon even though I’m going to continue to get ripped off. It’s sad that my publishers no longer care about their authors. I’ll pull them off their shelves again soon.

The days are nice, but the nights have been chilly. We went walking for 10 minutes and Tom was almost sorry he packed away his jacket. When we got back, since it was early enough for the streets to be dead but dark enough that I could see headlights approaching, I made 4 rounds around the circle on my new bike. It’s so much fun! I’ve been adding a round every day and I’m already getting back into biking shape. I can feel it in my legs.

I’m more determined to mix it up… walking, running, strength training, stretching, biking, and in another month or so, swimming. You really do work different muscles doing different types of exercise and it’s good for those days that you want to do strenuous or time-consuming tasks.

Last night I had a rather hilarious dream. Maliheh married my first childhood friend Jenny, the one who dumped me in my early twenties for having “too many” problems, but I guess the marriage didn’t last long. Oh, LOL, it wouldn’t, as straight as Jenny was. They’re both bossy little control freaks. It was still kind of funny for a dream.

I know I had some other dream about Maliheh that was bad but I can’t remember it. I just hope the one about me spotting was just a dream! It was a good-sized spot, too. :-(

In another dream, I was walking down a residential street. I glanced down a side street to see my cousin Norma who waved to me and told me I looked great. Then, strangely enough, when I was coming back up the street I was in an office chair that seemed to automatically wheel itself.

MONDAY, MAY 14, 2018 Yesterday turned out to be a lot better than the day before. The day before I was feeling pretty frustrated, hopeless and just totally defeated when it comes to my meds. My biggest fear is that I’ve been hit with a disease in which there is no medication I can tolerate in order to treat it. That means I’m finally going to have to make a very big decision. I’m going to have to either seek an alternative if there is one out there for me, treat it partially, or stop treatment altogether. Sometimes I just feel very overwhelmed, but that’s for another entry.

For now, we bombed the place yesterday and went to Denny’s. The music was blasting, as usual, but the customers were civilized save for the blacks who had to make a show of themselves by blasting their car stereo for a few minutes in the parking lot before entering the restaurant. The food was good but not great. He got an omelet and I got my last cholesterol-filled meal with a T-bone, fries and rice pilaf.

After that, we drove around for a while until Walmart opened. As I headed toward the back of the store, while Tom was still checking something out toward the front, there it was. I practically squealed with delight! When I spotted Tom, I excitedly waved him toward me with a big happy grin as I jumped up and down like a kid on Christmas. Then as he got closer I pointed to the beautiful cruiser bike for $89. It’s absolutely gorgeous! It’s got 24” wheels which has a rider height of 4’ 6” to 5’ 6”, so that’s more appropriate for me. I had a 26” in Oregon and it was scary fast. My old pink and purple Quasar was very hard to control when going downhill because it wanted to run at breakneck speed and was way too big for me. However, I never could get used to the 20” Stowaways we got after my blue cruiser was stolen. I felt safer on them but smaller wheels leave you a bit underpowered and the fucking gears kept slipping and then there was this thing sticking out that sort of poked the back of my foot on one side and I just never liked it.

The only negative to cruisers is that they’re better suited for flat terrain. These hills can be both treacherous and dangerous so you have to be careful and in good shape. My old cruiser was a La Jolla. This one is a Huffy. Its frame is lavender and it has purple splatter guards, and its inner wheels are hot pink. The pedals and handlebars are pink and purple. The seat and chain guard are white with magenta, teal and white dahlias. There are also a few flower decals scattered around the frame and splatter guards. It’s truly beautiful and totally me. The woman discounted it down to $75 because the seat was a little dirty and the very back of the back splatter guard had a little scuff mark on it.

We strapped it in the trunk and drove very slowly home, glad we didn’t live far. When I took it for its maiden ride around the circle I thought, uh-oh, something’s wrong. It was a major struggle to ride! I even struggled going downhill. But then when Tom hooked up the air pump it said it had only 6 pounds of pressure in the tires when it’s supposed to have 40. So he blew up the tires and then I made a swift round around the circle which you should be able to do in 60 seconds or less, and I did. It was just like old times on my old cruiser!

This one doesn’t have a basket but I’m getting a pink wire one, colorful LED lights for the wheels, plus a tie-dye helmet that’s a kids’ helmet but that will still fit since I’m small. LOL, maybe I’ll go out and get one of those pink sparkly kickstands at some point.

Right now the bike is sitting in the laundry room. I could get a new lock for it and keep it outside but then the sun will fade the designs, the accessories could be stolen, and the spiders will take over it. Because it’s a pain to get in and out the door and I can’t reach the thing that props the screen open, we’re getting a new hydraulic arm to put in the center of it where I can reach it. This one doesn’t work properly anyway. It’s supposed to keep the door from slamming or staying open. Well, it doesn’t slam, but it doesn’t close all the way like the front one either.

The two rounds around the circle that I made really sucked the juice out of me and made me realize just how out of shape I’m getting. I’ve felt weak, tired and lightheaded and it’s getting old. I’ve been slacking off and working out for 10-20 minutes when it really should be 45-60 minutes like I used to. Certainly no less than 30 minutes. I need to start mixing it up again too, and do a variety of exercises. If you just walk or you just ride a bike, that’s better than nothing, but it really is best to work different parts of the body in different ways. This way I won’t have to worry about feeling weak, out of breath, or tired when we go to Hawaii and want to do things that are physical. We typically do adventure vacations, not relaxation ones. We’re usually on the go doing something practically from the minute we wake up until the minute we go to bed. I want to be in shape for that and so does he, so he’s working out more too. He’s been doing exercise videos. We love Fitness Blender.

We got a huge projector screen to use in the living room in light of all the rearranging we’re doing. He set up his new office and it looks a little weird but is more efficient for what he wants to use it for.

I was thinking that instead of mounting my 32” monitor to the bedroom wall I would just play set on the small desk that I used in the trailer. Then I might get the even smaller desk he just got that’s on wheels to place in front of it. It too, may look a little strange, but I don’t care. Comfort is what I care about, and it’s usually quieter in the bedroom than in the living room. Traffic can be insane no matter what room you’re in, but you hear landscaping and other sounds better in the living room because of all the big windows.

I swear, though, I’m going to quit running from noise in the next place and just accept that life has gotten noisy in most places, and just set the place up however I would normally set it up if I were stone deaf like I sometimes wish I was.

Tom thinks he might have an infection in his ear. He regained some hearing but then lost it again. He will be calling his doctor today to see if we can both get in with him. I just don’t think I’m going to get anywhere with mine, and still think some of what I feel is connected to my meds.

I wonder if it’s his tooth. He has a phobia of dentists as I do with medication so he doesn’t keep up on his teeth. I tease him about eventually needing dentures but I’m afraid I might be right someday. He’s already lost like half a dozen teeth. He once had beautiful bright white teeth but now they’re stained and yellowed from age and lack of care.

So after I set up my office in the bedroom I’ll move the treadmill back into the living room and get a purple five-foot bean bag to put the doll on in the bedroom. Plus I’ll put some of the fake palm trees in the bedroom as well.

We decided that rather than break down my desk along with his, we’ll just leave it in the corner of the living room. It’s not only a nice desk that’s in good condition that maybe the next people could use, but it’s a monster of a desk. His is smaller, older and flimsier so it was easier to break down. This one would be tougher to take apart. It sure wasn’t easy to put together.

Between him not feeling well and the excitement of getting the bike which neither of us expected, we didn’t get to the chandelier yet. We didn’t do a lot of things we wanted to do this weekend but oh well. They can wait.

We went to Walgreens before we went to eat and to Walmart. I got a couple of large bath bombs. One is brown sugar and fig and the other is black tea and rooibos. I used the black tea one earlier and it made the bath water look like I was bathing in black ink.

Now 2 out of the 5 lights on the master bathroom’s vanity have blown out. These bulbs should pretty much outlive us so I’m thinking the fixture is old and defective. Hey, it’s 35 years old. Maybe it’s time to upgrade the vanity in there.

I also got this really cool coloring book that only has six pages to color but they’re thick cardboard with velvet backgrounds and patterns that appear when you use the markers to color them in with. Things like hearts, Chevrons, smileys and stars. It’s kind of cool. It’s different. I had my choice of butterflies and Barbie ballerinas and I got the butterflies. It only came with like six markers.

I also got coffee nut peanut M&Ms and he got a few things as well.

Duolingo is offering to pay $500 for every story they use if you write one they like for their “Stories,” a way to learn language through conversational dialogue. They want between 150-250 words and it has to be a narrative with a solution. It can be adventure, romance, travel, etc. I think I’ll write one and we’ll see what happens.

The only dream I remember was walking down a street and seeing this big black woman disappear between the driver’s side of the car and whatever was at the edge of the road which I think was just a wooded area or a hill or something like that. I then realized I would have been able to see her had she gotten into the car or if she walked off in any direction. The fact that she disappeared between the other side of the car and whatever was behind it made me hesitant to pass by and afraid she might be crouched and ready to pounce on me as I walked by.

SUNDAY, MAY 13, 2018 Checking in on a very lightheaded day after taking my meds. Funny how I skipped yesterday because I was anxious the day before and wasn’t as lightheaded. Still think this lightheadedness is more the meds than my ears or anything else. Just like with the anxiety.

The good news is that Tom has recovered some of his lost hearing, but we still don’t know what caused it in the first place. He was at work and in the middle of the day on Friday when he went completely deaf in his right ear. It happened instantaneously and not slowly. He quickly looked up the symptom to make sure it wasn’t a symptom of a heart attack or a stroke or anything like that.

After being undecided as far as what to do about doctors, I decided that since he has to make an appointment for himself anyway for the week he’s off, he might as well see if we can both get in. If not, I’ll return to Dr. A. I just don’t think she’s going to help me. I don’t know that this one is either, but I figured I would make one last-ditch effort to try to help myself. And hope to hell nothing up there could be cruel enough to have dealt me a disease it knew I couldn’t treat by allowing me to be too sensitive to the treatment available.

His doctor, Dr. F, isn’t Muslim like from Iran or Iraq but Indian instead. I don’t care as long as he can help me. If he can’t, I at least have a doctor closer to home.

He has good reviews except for one two-star review in regards to him not following up as soon as he should have.

So we’re going to do what we didn’t do yesterday. We did go grocery shopping yesterday but that’s about it. Today we have to bomb since the spiders are alive and kicking at this time of year. We’ll go to Denny’s and do a little shopping while we need to be out of the house.

I don’t know why I didn’t think to do this before but I started to use the Gold Bond powder more aggressively and that has caused the red splotches down below to disappear completely and the rash on my left armpit to diminish a lot. So maybe that will keep it from spreading. It will return after I stop using it but this might be the quickest way to get it to back off if only temporarily. I just don’t want to take steroids because they’re only a temporary fix with lots of side effects.

Last night I dreamed I was making this couple’s bed. There was a fancy design on the bedspread and the husband asked the wife if she went shopping at some place before they began chatting in intimate tones. They said something about “sex on fire” and I said that they sold comforters with pictures of fire on them.

Then I dreamed I had just stepped into a crowded restaurant when I overheard some guy begin to gossip about me. I then hurried into this tiny closet when I realized I was naked, even though I’d already been seen. I went over in my mind how to get out of there unseen so I could get some clothes on. Once I did that, I was determined to confront the guy and maybe even harm him.

SATURDAY, MAY 12, 2018 Feeling totally overwhelmed and hopeless right now. Now I’m not just worried for myself but for Tom as well. Yesterday afternoon he noticed that he went deaf in one ear. He figured he just needed a good night’s sleep. But he not only is still deaf in that ear, he now has a strange and indescribable sensation/sound and feels a bit nauseous. He doesn’t have a temperature and his blood pressure is good but his HR is a little low.

Like with most things we research online, he got a bunch of information, some of it contradictory. Some say to go to the doctor right away, others say it needs treatment, and others say it will go away on its own. It can be caused by infections, Cogan’s disease, a tumor, and many more things, though most cases are unexplainable.

I think we should both get out of this world. I really, really do. I think we’ve lived our lives and have done enough, so to speak. Meaning, there really isn’t much more we can do with what resources and money we have that we haven’t already done. People’s health gets worse with age, not better. Why live to suffer more and more? I don’t want to wait for him to die and then have to kill myself and die alone. I do NOT want to die alone.

I feel totally overwhelmed and helpless where my situation is concerned. My skin is getting worse, I continue to have anxiety, I continue to be lightheaded, and I feel like I’ve been running around in circles, getting absolutely nowhere these last 4 years. If anything, I feel worse in some ways.

I took a mirror and looked between my legs yesterday and I have big red splotches in the groin, sort of toward my ass. I also have four or five flat scaly dry patches, along with the raised red spot on my shoulder blade. I think it’s probably all lichen planus and not psoriasis or eczema, but I worry that it’s only a matter of time before it’s all over my entire body and even in my mouth and that I’ll have these gross ugly red outbreaks that are itchy as hell all over that is similar to what Aly’s going through. She burns and itches constantly and it seems like there’s only so much that can be done when it comes to skin issues. They recommend a million different things and I don’t know what, if anything, could possibly help. I wondered about Epsom salts but then I figured that if they were really worth anything, the dermatologist I saw would have likely told me.

Not sure the Lippu ointment I got really helps. I’m totally torn between giving up on my health altogether and not going to the doctor’s unless it’s to the ENT or dentist, continuing to try to fight this, and just giving up on life altogether.

Lichen planus affects the hair and nails as well as the skin, and I wonder if I’ve had it a lot longer than I realized. I just wonder if the fungus in my toenails really could be lichen planus based on some images I saw. The thing is that no matter what remedies I try, I don’t think I can stop this thing from spreading.

I’m just really not sure I want to go on living. I know there are some that believe you go to hell if you kill yourself but I can’t know that I wouldn’t end up there if there is such a place if I died of natural causes 40 years from now. There are no guarantees. I worry about a possible afterlife that could be worse than this, but I don’t want to go on suffering like I have here in this existence either. I can’t stress enough just how insignificant my past problems seem compared to this!

If anyone has learned that fighting for what’s not meant to be can only make things worse, it’s me. Maybe there really is something up there and it wants me to be hypo. Maybe it wants me to suffer. Maybe it doesn’t want me treating myself and that’s why everything I try backfires in some way or another. Not everything is fixable. Sometimes the best way to deal with a problem really is not to bother dealing with it at all, even though I know there will be serious consequences sooner or later should I decide to stop treatment altogether for both my thyroid and my skin.

When we were broke I wondered if all those years spent struggling could be compensation for riches to come, and it turns out it was. I would love to think that all this noise and all this health drama was compensation for a future peaceful place and better health, but that’s just not the way bodies and the world work.

FRIDAY, MAY 11, 2018 Lately, I’ve been working on “de-accenting” myself. 26 years out of New England has reduced my accent somewhat. This much is obvious when I listen to Tammy and compare her accent with my own. She definitely sounds more Northeastern to me. I’ve been doing some exercises and making a conscious effort to reduce my accent to a simple, generic American accent so I’m easier to understand not just for people but when using speech-to-text. I personally don’t care for my accent anyway. I’ve heard worse but mine is ugly enough in some ways.

It would be nice if foreign doctors also took the time to do these exercises which are simple enough to find on YouTube so we natives can understand them more easily. At least half the doctors are from other countries these days.

At 2 a.m. last night, a motorcycle roared in and then back out an hour later. We were both up at the time, but is it just me, or is that positively rude as fuck? Never thought I would say this in a million years, but in some ways, this place is noisier than Norwich and Phoenix were in the 90s. I didn’t hear all the shit I hear at night there, and some of the shit I hear in the daytime I didn’t hear there nearly as often either. I know I’ve only lived in one adult community to judge from so far, but this has got to be the noisiest place I’ve ever lived in for the most part. Traffic and Landscaping during the daytime, traffic and planes at night… There’s always something. I also realize it’s just the times we’re living in and that not many places are quieter than this. I just wish I could get a little more used to it already! And a heavier sleeper as well.

Also, that loud Subaru has been visiting daily. Why would it go weeks without coming around to coming around every day? It might as well move back in in that case. That’s exactly what I’m worried it’s in the process of doing, too. Maybe they’re moving shit in every time they visit. Unless something’s going on, who needs to visit anyone every single day?

Still lightheaded but I’m also still calmer and I slept surprisingly well today. No way I’m going to get much sleep tomorrow because it’s trash day.

Aly and I were talking about words that trigger us. She said that while she’s certainly not mad at me, insisting I change anything or blaming me in any way, and she knows it may sound silly and irrational and can’t really explain why it bothers her, but the word “busy” is a trigger for her for some reason. As I told her, though, I don’t mind doing some filtering every now and then. If the requests are reasonable and simple enough (not that she actually “requested” anything from me), I can handle it. I’m not black or Mexican who can’t even handle being asked the most reasonable of things like to keep their music for their ears only, and who will act as if you just asked them to shoot their father, fuck their mother, and feed their kids to the tigers at the zoo.

I think we all have certain words or terms that bug us. The term “Native American” has always annoyed me because I’m an American and this is my native country, yet I can’t say I’m a Native American. Well, if I’m not a Native American, then what land am I native to?

Biphobic people, yes there really is such a word, annoy the fuck out of me, too. Yet some believe we’re either gay or straight and that there’s no gray area in between. But there is. I know this from first-hand experience. Besides, do they even have a clue just have ridiculous their claim sounds? Saying you can’t be attracted to both genders is like saying you can’t like blueberries if you like strawberries. And how does being bi mean you’re “confused?” I know when I’m attracted to a man and I know when I’m attracted to a woman. There’s no guesswork or “confusion” there for me. It’s as obvious to me as when I’m not attracted to a man or woman. Physically or sexually, I mean.

Last night I dreamed I was sitting on the side of Kim’s bed. This is the Kim I knew back in the 90s. I noticed a strip of turquoise-colored fabric on her nightstand that matched her sheets and I commented on it. But then I also realized she must not be doing as well as I thought because the condition of the nightstand was rather shabby.

Not sure if it was before or after this, but Kim was reading something and muttered something about me being wanted for murder.

Then I had this gross dream where Tom said that I left “shit” on the bathroom floor. Literally. But the “shit” looked like a bunch of mud. Nonetheless, I took a high-pressure hose and hosed it down the drain that was in the center of this huge square bathroom of ours in which both the walls and floor were done in little square tiles with grout between them.

In the last dream, I was handwriting letters to Lori and Lisa and fucking with them by mentioning stuff I “heard” happened that never really did.

So I went out walking around the circle to see if the loud car was still there and trying to remember if that might have been the loud vehicle I heard when in the shower around 8:00. I’d gotten to next door’s driveway when I suddenly remembered hearing it leave earlier and catching a blur of white and red from the headlights and taillights as the bastard passed by the tiny holes in the blinds. WTF is wrong with my memory lately? I even sent Tom an email saying that I hoped they didn’t wake him up on their way out.

I just wish it would go back to visiting once in a while instead of daily. Better yet, I wish they would sell the house. For real. But if they did it would just be something else sooner or later.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 9, 2018 Feeling kind of blah now. The nights are peaceful (somewhat) but they can be a bit lonely. But then so can the weekdays when I’m alone. Sometimes I wish I was “normal” and had a job instead of a sleep curse and driving phobia. More distractions would be a good thing for me and make alone time more special.

Still calm but definitely lightheaded. It’s ok. I’m used to it. Besides, if it wasn’t that it would just be something else. Something that might be worse. Been pretty productive story-wise, though, sharing bits and pieces in my story account.

No updates from Tammy or the girls, even though Tammy has been online. I guess they just don’t have much info yet. Gotta wonder, though… If the tables were turned and it was me in the hospital, how concerned would they be? Not saying Tammy wouldn’t be concerned but I wonder just how often they would ask for updates.

I looked at an aerial view of Tammy’s place to try to get a sense of what may be making it so quiet there as opposed to here. Well, she definitely isn’t as choked off by houses and driveways as we are, and the streets being skinnier would probably deter as much street parking. However, even though her park is half the size of ours she is towards the entrance and I would think most of the people that live there would have to drive by her place. Does Florida simply not have as many loud vehicles? She should be hearing the same thunderous traffic we do. Where I’m cursed with noise maybe she’s just blessed?

There are some houses in her park that might be an ideal location but I still think that these days, with people becoming less considerate, vehicles getting louder, and the population rising, there isn’t much difference between an apartment and a house be it in the mainstream or not. So like I said, best to focus on cost and the place itself and not what’s around it when we move.

The sky was anything but peaceful last night. What we’re pretty sure were police helicopters were swarming around the area for about 40 minutes at 3am. Pretty sure I heard one talking from a speaker. So they were probably in pursuit of a suspect.

Blood pressure was high before bed but good when I got up. The French bread pizza I had before bed was probably responsible for the rise in BP as well as the stomach pains I had yesterday since it was a bit greasy. Definitely done with that stuff. I may not care enough about being fat to count calories and put up with the hunger that would go with losing weight that only comes right back, but I definitely need to go back to reading nutrition labels if only for the sodium and cholesterol content. I’d rather look like shit than feel like shit.

What was probably UPS ended up waking me up as they went crashing into the speed bump. I fell back asleep for a couple more hours, but still, I don’t think I’ve been woken up this often since my apartment days. Used to it or not, it’s fucking ridiculous, daytime sleeper half the time or not.

Geri’s evening party didn’t get as annoying as I expected. That loud car left after visiting for an hour like it did last night (from the other side of the circle), and one of Geri’s visitors had an incredibly loud car as well that left shortly after that. Plus, somebody’s mutt was barking for several minutes. Now, it’s quiet until the sky drama begins, and between 1-2 a.m. when that semi-loud vehicle comes around that delivers the paper.

Unless it’s for traffic, I don’t like to break my stride, so Tom can go walking with me as long as he doesn’t get stuck on paranoid and feel he has to stop me because some sensitive pussy that I’m not even talking to might not like something I say. Yeah, that’s another thing that bothers me. We’ve been on this blame trend worse than ever before. These days everyone’s responsible for our own behavior but us. 30, 40 years ago you didn’t have people being blamed for people’s suicide attempts and all kinds of other shit. I thought we were supposed to be responsible for our own actions.

Another thing that bothers me is the dual standards. It still seems that everything is okay for others but not for me. These are totally 100% hypothetical examples, but say we were in a restaurant and the people next to me heard me say something most people wouldn’t consider politically correct, then got up and beat the shit out of me. How much you want to bet that everyone, probably even Tom, would put the blame on me and say it was my fault, I should’ve kept my mouth shut, and I was responsible for my own attack and their actions?

Now let’s turn the tables, again, totally hypothetical. Let’s say I heard them say something unkosher, got up, and kicked the crap out of them (I wouldn’t give a shit what some stranger said to another, though). Again, why do I think that somehow, I would get shit like “you had no right to do that,” “they weren’t talking to you,” “you could have just ignored it,” “you could have moved,” “you could have left altogether?”

So it would all be on me. Right?

I still don’t like the lack of defense I seem to get compared to most people either. Again, a hypothetical example, and defending me doesn’t have to mean one has to get all confrontational on my behalf. But let’s say Tammy was like, “Well, how come you can’t just set your alarm and get up at the same time every day? Huh? How come? Why is it so damn hard?”

Couldn’t he at least say (along with me) something as simple as how it’s easier said than done? That a doctor wouldn’t have diagnosed me with CRD just for fun? That there is no treatment or cure right now for it?

Sometimes silence really can speak a thousand words. In other words, it can give people the impression that he’s on their side instead of mine just like my not fighting the legal shit sent the wrong message. Sometimes it’s what you don’t do/say that can hurt you.

Last night I dreamed I was still going to school. I don’t know if I was a kid all over again or where I was living but I supposedly changed schools and they were having trouble finding me a ride home at the end of the day. I wonder if it might have been a school I stayed in for several days at a time because after they said that it was too far to walk home because that school was 8 miles away from home instead of 2-3, I gathered a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a brush from a bathroom. Then I went to turn the light back on to double-check that I had all I needed after I had turned it off. It was a rocker switch and I had trouble getting it on. Then I said, “Forget it,” and asked someone to hold a plastic bag open for me so I could dump the items into it before leaving.

TUESDAY, MAY 8, 2018 Last night really sent me on a WTF moment. I was working at my desk when I heard a rustling sound behind me and thought Tom had come into the room and was doing something. But then I glanced behind me and saw the chandelier’s crystals dancing about and my first thought was that the rats were out. They weren’t, and even if they had been, we don’t exactly have bionic rats either. These old fatties can’t even jump on the couch anymore.

So I got up from my chair and saw that Tom was down the hall in another room. If I were the type to believe in ghosts I would have thought the place was haunted for sure, LOL. But then when I took a closer look at it, that proved yet again that there really is usually a logical explanation for most of life’s mysteries. One of the chandelier’s arms broke at the base. The arms are plastic and there was probably a crack in it from the get-go that we didn’t notice given its location, and the weight of it caused it to snap over time.

While this may suck as it was a very pretty chandelier, it was also a bitch to dust. So a part of me is glad I got to pick out a new one that’s just as shiny and pretty but that will be much easier to dust, is only a little over $30 instead of $100, and shouldn’t be so damn bright. I hate naked bulbs, especially super bright LEDs. This takes a regular bulb and while it will be an LED, the crystals should block a lot of the direct light from glaring as much.

Nothing from Tammy today so I don’t know what’s up with her. I’m guessing she hasn’t gotten any test results back yet. I don’t even know how long she’s going to be in the hospital. Hopefully not long! Even if we might have a lot more gadgets to entertain ourselves with since I was last in a hospital myself, it’s not a fun place to be. I can’t imagine getting any sleep at all there either.

I wonder if she has her own room. In the past, I always thought that if I was unfortunate enough to have to stay in the hospital I would want my own room but I don’t think it would really matter because hospitals aren’t very peaceful anyway. Let’s hope I never have to stay in one again!

I also ordered 6 boxes of Sleepytime detox tea for $20 (it helps keep me calm), and we needed to get a new modem as well because ours is obsolete, no longer supported, and is dropping off here and there. It’s about 5 years old. We’re going to get a high-end modem for $160 that’s not only supported by our provider but will also work with the high-speed upgrade they’ve been doing.

Slept surprisingly well for being on a street where you can’t go 15 minutes without something loud zooming by, be it the same people coming and going or different vehicles. Last night was amazingly quiet. This is the time of year when you don’t hear the freeway or as many planes. There definitely isn’t much I don’t like about summer. It was over 90° today but our summers are very dry.

Super lightheaded at times still. This can’t all be my ears. It’s either the meds or the peri. :( Might as well make peace with it and accept that it’s not going away anytime soon but that it will go away someday, if only for a while.

Went out walking at dusk. Said hello to the “Twenties” on the way out as they were seeing company off.

MONDAY, MAY 7, 2018 Started watching The Mist and I like it so far. I know it’s based on a Stephen King novel. Pretty sure I read it years ago. Not liking some of the old-fashioned and unrealistic stereotypes, though. You have a gay character but everyone is anorexic and every parent seems to be married while every single person seems to be childless. Also, these days you can’t watch a show without even the subtlest reference to race and that gets kind of old, but I still enjoy the show.

Tammy has been admitted to the hospital and they’re doing a series of tests, but she didn’t say what they were for. I guess they just need to get rid of her infection.

I still wish she’d quit smoking. I’ve only had one infection since the ‘90s and I don’t doubt that that’s mostly because I quit smoking. I also haven’t been in the hospital since I was a kid unless you want to count the breakdown I had when I was 26, thanks to my own lung issues because I was still smoking, and a serious overload of stress brought on by plenty of chaos and lost sleep in the projects I lived in at the time.

As boring as it may be to be in the hospital, I’m glad she has regular supervision. This may be the best way for her to finally get better.

No anxiety today but I sure am having my share of lightheadedness and some headrushes, too. Really hope I’m not in for a lightheaded summer like I was during the summer of 2016! Wondering how much high blood pressure could be causing some of my lightheadedness, the occasional racing or pounding heart, and anxiety, though my blood pressure isn’t that high.

We threw another round of alcohol and peroxide in my good ear and while it’s looking better it’s not clear yet. Definitely going to have the doctor look at it when I see her next month.

Decided to stick to the Amberen till I’m officially menopausal, too.

So it’s a misdemeanor if you stalk a PI in Florida like George Zimmerman is accused of doing, but a felony if you DON’T stalk your neighbors in Arizona, eventually vindicated or not??? And why? Because they were black?

I’d be willing to bet the most Zimmerman will get is three months’ probation and maybe a fine and some community service. Oh, and I’m sure he’ll be sent to a counselor for anger management, something the courts love to do as if that will suddenly make someone not angry about being screwed over. While I’m no Zimmerman fan, I don’t doubt that he was justified in the shooting he was acquitted of. People only took a shit fit over it because he shot a black person. If they were white, no one would even know who the hell George Zimmerman was. I also don’t doubt he’s been harassed by various people ever since and that’s what’s caused him to snap.

Either way, all this bullshit about blacks being these poor, poor little victims is just that…bullshit. There may be a few that are truly discriminated against but I think it’s pretty sad that society doesn’t want to see that they’re actually favored in most cases.

Sometimes I wish I could live in my own fuzzy little bubble of comfort and delusion and only tell myself what I wanted to hear and believe.

SUNDAY, MAY 6, 2018 The “Pepto-Bismol” hall is definitely coming to the end of its life, however. Yes, the murals are here waiting to be installed during our June vacation (and I better fucking feel great). So one elephant and one forest will wait patiently in a large tube that is out of the rats’ reach and very sharp teeth.

Slept surprisingly well for one who had a bit of a rough night. Finally started feeling better, then about an hour after I took my pill the beatdown was on. Heart was beating a little too hard for comfort. Not racing, just beating hard. Also, the pulse could be felt again on the left side of my neck and I knew my BP was up. I even had a dime-size ache in that area for a while, thanks to the pounding and pressure. Yeah, the silent killer isn’t always so silent, but you know what? I’ve had ENOUGH! My doctor’s going to have to switch my medication or cut me back. At least till I can eliminate perimenopause from the picture. I can’t keep dealing with this shit year after year, with the HR/anxiety, and I WON’T.

The elevated BP was probably my fault, though. When the “neck knockers” back off and I’m feeling better, I tend to slack off and not be as health-conscious when it comes to what foods I eat. The Chinese food I recently splurged on was no doubt loaded with sodium, so I’m making a point of backing off that again.

I need to watch the cholesterol too, even though I could use the calming tryptophan in it. Raw peanuts that don’t have added salt are a good way to get protein without sodium or cholesterol. I got a bag and roasted the peanuts for 20 minutes and they’re great. I have a few here and there throughout the day.

Might as well return to taking my meds at the beginning of my day since taking them at the end of the day wasn’t helping with side effects and is also more of a pain in the ass that way. The only negative to the beginning of the day is that I have to wait for a half-hour for coffee. Just a minor nuisance. So I’m not taking it tonight. I’ll take the poison when I get up.

Didn’t wake up feeling as warm today, though that could be because it was a bit cooler. I don’t think it’s that I’m not used to the heat anymore because Oregon winters were brutal compared to the winters here with much colder temps that lasted longer, yet the summers were so wonderful and such a relief when I could finally warm up. I think I’m just an aging fatty with some pretty messed up hormones. They were definitely worse before last year, though. Could still be one of the side effects listed on my meds, too. Again, I hate not knowing what’s what for sure. If I could have a better idea of the culprits, then I might have a better idea of tackling the problem, but so far today I’m just lightheaded.

We put oil in the bad ear and alcohol and peroxide in the good ear. Since I’ve been lightheaded anyway, I was thinking of taking a break from the Amberen and seeing how I do.

The more I think about it, the more I doubt the cemetery is cursing me. We were pretty close to a cemetery up in Oregon as well and my only health issues there were some TMJ pain and an occasional toothache. Our lives were pretty good there. Just very, very cold. Besides, I really don’t think the dead can influence the living no matter how much some people may wish they could. If they could, then our loved ones would make sure that nothing bad ever happened to us and maybe even that we won the lottery. So if there is an afterlife out there, which I still doubt, I think it’s in a whole ‘nother dimension and that the two worlds simply can’t cross or connect in any way. Furthermore, why would any spirits of the dead that rest nearby pick on only some of us and not all of us? Because it doesn’t like short people? Green-eyed brunettes?

I totally love my new haircut, especially having bangs again. It’s not only so much easier to put up but it’s already “training down.” As she advised me, I brushed the bangs to one side and then to the other after my next shampoo because the hair had gotten used to being parted in the middle for so long. It’s looking good even though it may be a bit of a pain in the ass to keep up on. Looks way thicker in that area, too.

Bought a tube of Miracle Potion by It’s a 10 and it’s a great product that really smoothes the hair. That is until I fry it again with the next dye job.

It’s that time of year when it turns into a creep-fest in here. A big fat spider was running across the living room at breakneck speed last night. Definitely gotta bomb next weekend. Will do it early in the morning so it won’t get too hot for the rats in the storeroom. Can’t believe they’re a week away from 2 years old and not showing any signs of checking out of Hotel Earth anytime soon! They look old and they do sleep a little more and are a little less active, but they have no tumors and they don’t appear to be arthritic in any way. Burkey sure is fat though, LOL.

Went out for a quick walk earlier and the weather was gorgeous. This was in the early evening right after the direct sunlight faded but there was still plenty of light. Remember how I said in a recent entry that we should be grateful for what we do have and focus on the positive instead of what we’ve lost and what can’t be changed? Well, I am so damn grateful I don’t live near a particular house on Tandy where they left their mutt leashed to their little white picket fence with absolutely no one around in sight to watch it! Not only are you not supposed to do that here, but that is so typical of the West. The thing was yapping its ass off. I would be complaining for damn sure and I wouldn’t care how sensitive they may be or what kind of connections they may have either.

Another house further down on Astro got fake grass put in and that’s another “we should have” when it comes to this place. We should have replaced the windows. We should have laminated the floors. We should have ripped out all the crap we’ve got growing here and thrown fake grass down. Looks beautiful year-round, never needs watering or mowing, and no weeds can grow there. At least this grass didn’t have those stupid stripes that the fake grass Jesse laid down around the trailer had. That came from a football field. Oh well. Maybe we’ll get it right in the next place.

I haven’t been remembering my dreams as much lately. Even though many of my dreams can be negative it’s kind of too bad because that’s where I get most of my info as far as knowing the unknown is concerned.

The only thing I remember for dreams is either hanging out or living in a trailer similar to the one we rented before moving here. Only this one was resting on a plastic base of sorts and I was worried that it was gonna crack and cause the trailer to tip over.

Then I ran into a couple of girls in a store that I knew had been in jail and asked them what they were doing out of jail so soon right as a good-looking cashier paid the $.15 I was short.

Off to work on my story and hope I remain calm tonight! Looking good so far. :)

SATURDAY, MAY 5, 2018 Sarah posted a meme saying: I’d rather work my ass off than give a man the power to say, “You wouldn’t have that if it weren’t for me.”

Very typical of the times too, and while that’s fine if it’s what she wants, the longer she and Becky are single and living together, the less likely I think it is that they’ll ever be with anyone. People may say that looks don’t matter, but it does. Everyone wants someone they’re attracted to, but I think that between their weight, height, and aggressive nature, they’re probably looking at being alone most if not all of their lives.

As a person who’s unable to work, I’m just the opposite in that I’m extremely grateful to Tom for providing me with many things and opportunities I would likely never have if it weren’t for him. Especially when we’re living in a time when women are expected to be as independent as possible.

Tammy, always the bearer of bad news, said her lymph nodes are still infected and if they’re not better by Monday she’ll have to be readmitted to the hospital. Ugh, that poor girl! As she said, and as I totally understand, she’s sick of the shit she goes through.

Yeah, I’m getting pretty fucking sick of suffering myself. Almost every single day I have something. If I’m not lightheaded, I’m going from hot to cold. If I’m not anxious, then I’m worried about becoming anxious. Lately, I’ve been finding that I’ve been on the warm side the first few hours of my day and I tend to be more lightheaded then, too. I just don’t get it. If these are side effects of my medication then why do they come and go? If it’s because I’m older and fatter, then why do I tend to feel warmer toward the beginning of my day? I’m not any younger or skinnier later on. I’m just so sick of always having something and only getting a few scattered days off where I actually feel good. If I’m really lucky I get a few weeks and if I’m really, really lucky I get a few months.

Going through all I have these last 4 years has made me very hyper-aware. If anything felt off in the past I would notice it but I didn’t tend to get as nervous about it as I do now. Nothing has killed me yet but sometimes I wish it would. Seriously, I would rather live my life without suffering or simply not live. To live and suffer isn’t a very fun way to live at all. This is just bullshit and I’m still torn between getting a new doctor and keeping the same one. Both would have their ups and downs. I asked Tom’s opinion and he thinks that as long as I’m not having panic attacks, I should probably stick with my current doctor. No panic attacks in almost 2 years. Just a few close calls.

Traffic didn’t wake me up, believe it or not, but I woke up warm a couple of times and my HR probably would have raced me awake if I was still in the worst of the peri. Then my body did something weird that woke me up and I’m not sure what it was. A headrush? A stab of anxiety?

I can’t fucking wait until it’s been at least a year without a period! That way I can begin the process of elimination. Since people with no history of anxiety (I’ve had plenty of stress but only if something bad was going on in my life) don’t usually up and have this problem so late in life, that would leave the meds which I’ve always suspected was the main culprit. To think that my only two choices in life might be this medication if I’m right, or suffering the consequences that stopping the medication would bring, makes me want to scream.

OMG, it’s nearly midnight and someone just roared in on a motorcycle. How fucking considerate, huh?

Anyway, not knowing exactly what’s causing what, what to do about it and how long it’s going to go on, makes it even harder for me. It’s been almost 4 years now since I’ve been suffering and sometimes I wonder if there’s a family curse on us but I still don’t know if I believe in that sort of thing. Like my bestie, I do believe somewhat in the paranormal but not a God, angels or devils. I was chatting with her about whether or not living close to a cemetery could affect me but then why did it take a year for things to go to hell and how come others aren’t always suffering as much as I am who also live here? I’d say the cemetery probably doesn’t have much to do with it but I guess anything is possible.

But how much could be the medication? How much could be the perimenopause? How much could be because I’m older and heavier? This set of questions brings me to the next set of questions… What do I do about it? How long will this shit go on? It’s gotten beyond frustrating! Some days I’m literally afraid to open my eyes and get out of bed because I just never know what shit I could be in for. When I’m feeling shitty I’m more willing to try things that might help but I still don’t know if psych drugs are the answer because of the side effects and the fact that some stop working after a while. I think in some ways depending on that is a lot like depending on street drugs or alcohol and while I don’t want to go down that road, I need to do something. The question is how to fix one problem, if it’s even fixable at all, without inviting a new problem. It seems like all I do is keep trading problems for problems.

Still not sure if I’m going to like the ointment for my rash. I did get a headache yesterday when I used it but not for several hours later so I still don’t know if there’s a connection. It could have fumes I don’t notice that cause it. Not using it today and no headache either.

Getting away from the physical and emotional drama, I went to the salon today and got my hair trimmed and also my bangs cut back for the first time in a decade. I missed having bangs and not having hair constantly in my face and having to put it back just to eat and stuff like that. It looks less thin in front and the gray roots don’t show as much which is nice since I don’t usually dye my hair as often as most women my age. They seem to dye it or at least touch it up every 4 to 6 weeks but I tend to go a few months between dye jobs. Just lazy, I guess.

I also got some stuff to help with the frizz. My problem is that it’s too thin in front and too thick in back so she thinned out some in back to help it look less frizzy. She blended the bangs into the sides as well and didn’t take much off the length. It’s still almost to the middle of my back when wet but since it’s very curly I don’t think it’s very long when it’s dry. If you’re used to having very short hair, you would consider it long but to me, it’s medium length.

It should also be more comfortable to put up when I’m working out or sleeping because thinner hair pulls easier than thicker hair when it’s bound, and since the thinner section of my hair is now short, I won’t be pulling on the delicate hairs along my hairline as much anymore.

Tom went to Sam’s Club while I slept and made a great impulse purchase. He got a couple of personal air conditioners. They’re portable and use a USB cable. You can add water and also ice cubes to them to add a little bit of moisture to the area around you. I have mine sitting on my desk and it definitely helps keep me cooler since my desk is in one of the warmest spots of the house in the summer. Partly because of that and because it’s quieter in the bedroom, I think I might revamp my own office like Tom is.

I have a huge corner desk in the living room and I think I might mount the TV I use as a monitor on the bedroom wall and then put my keyboard and the laptop that connects to it on the small desk I used in the trailer. Or maybe get a new desk. I have to be about two and a half feet away from this 32” monitor. I’m too blind to go with anything smaller and even if I had perfect vision, the big screen really does spoil you.

If you talk too loud and you have one Alexa and two Dots like we do, they all might hear you. It was funny because Tom was just nodding off when he got a reminder to stop eating, haha. I set reminders to stop eating and then a reminder to take my pill. Just my shit luck that I have to take a medication that not only makes me feel worse than ever at times, but that requires an empty stomach.

I’m worried about my bestie because she too, might have a dead thyroid and need to go on my medication, so I’ve told her what her doctor likely won’t tell her, and warned her that if it makes her anxious, her doctor is also likely to tell her she’s “just anxious.” Hopefully, she’ll be like most people and have no problem.

I don’t know why, but I guess you’re only supposed to use the Debrox for up to 4 days. I’ll do another round in a few days but tomorrow I’ll have Tom put alcohol and peroxide in the good ear and hope it helps ease my lightheadedness and that it’s not connected to my meds. Could be the peri, but again, I can’t always know what’s what and that’s almost as frustrating as the symptoms themselves. I’m just tired of suffering!

They just came out with this bracelet you wear that’s a personal thermostat that cools you when you’re warm and warms you when you’re cold. I’d really like to try it sometime. It’s called Embr Wave.

One of my K-cup pods was a mystery flavor that had a big question mark written on it. Had it this morning and it was delicious. Some kind of caramel or vanilla flavor, I’d guess.

FRIDAY, MAY 4, 2018 Meant to post this 17 hours ago so here it is now.

Started to feel a little borderline earlier and I wonder if I’m heading for trouble again. If I am, I hope it’s before the 15th, which is when I decide if I want to return to Dr. A. I used the Alexa app to create a checklist of topics I want to discuss with whatever doctor I do see.

Damn, I miss my old life! Well, not my old life but the old me.

Feeling stabs of anxiety in my chest makes me lean much more towards the meds as the main culprit than flares because even if I was flaring now I would think my TSH level would be too low to notice it. Still can’t believe peri could cause such intense anxiety but it makes a little bit of sense since I sometimes go a while without feeling it.

Always valuing the opinion of those I care about (unless they’re crazy), I asked Aly her opinion on the cemetery thing and seeing a new doctor. She believes in the paranormal but not so much in God. She said she thinks the cemetery affecting my health is possible but isn’t sure, especially since I don’t “feel” possessed or haunted in any way. I do sometimes wonder if there really could be something up there that’s picking on me but I’ve wondered that long before we came here. Also, it took a year before my problems started and not everyone here seems to be suffering as much. I still say it’s mostly the meds and a little peri.

She also said it can’t hurt to get a fresh perspective on my health. Worst-case scenario, the new doctor doesn’t help me but is definitely closer. Yes, I hate to start all over but I’ve been seeing Dr. A for 3.5 years now, and guess what? I’m still anxious. She may have tried to do something about it, but denying the medication is not helping me. If I’m right about it being the root cause then we need to go directly to the source and deal with that, not trying to cover it up with psych drugs that have side effects that stop working in time.

The only thing that doesn’t make sense is why I can sometimes go for weeks or even a few months without any significant issues. Also, if my thinning hair is a lack of thyroid and not the medication and age like I think it is, then why wasn’t my hair just as thin if not thinner before I was diagnosed and my TSH was higher than when I do a lot of skipping?

Speaking of hair, another thing I asked Aly’s opinion on is whether or not I should cut my bangs back. I’m due for a trim and I think I might just do that because of how thin it’s gotten and because I’m sick of it always being in my face. She said she’s seen pictures of me with bangs and thinks it makes me look younger. I think it makes me look fatter but I don’t care. Comfort is more important but as a side effect of that, it may look less thin and less gray with more of my hairline covered by them. So yeah, I think I’m ready to get “banged” again even though it’s a pain in the ass to keep up on. Sooner or later I’m going to want to keep it at the shoulders too. I definitely don’t have the patience I used to for long hair and I don’t have the hair I used to have anyway. No woman in her 50s, dead thyroid or not, has the hair she had in her 20s. It looks fried, shabby and witchy. It would be easier to dye it shorter too, but I’m not quite ready to cut it yet. The bangs, yes.

I was pissed off earlier because someone was having a party just over the wall. Carolyn says they don’t hear car stereos inside their house. Figures. But they do have new windows and they don’t have so many huge windows like we have in the living room. Also, Trisha is closer to them than Geri is to us and that would block some of the sounds. She could hear the little concert going on when she was out watering, she said.

We’ve traded in music for planes and the planes are getting louder lately, too. I’m not sure if they’re flying low or closer or if they’re different planes and maybe even helicopters. I’m just sick of how noisy my world has gotten day AND night. Where in the world can you go to get any peace these days that isn’t out in the boonies?

Aly’s traded in slamming doors, fighting adults and screaming kids for parking, traffic and trains but would rather the latter. Me too. But sometimes I just want SILENCE! Yet no matter where you live or what you live in, it seems life is noisy pretty much everywhere. Still find it hard to believe that it’s that quiet in the Twenties place. I think they’re either hard of hearing or they just don’t notice it as much, like maybe they have a higher tolerance for noise or something.

We were going to get these tests that run your DNA from your saliva that tells you what health issues you’re likely to have as well as where your ancestors originated from but then decided against it because the results are too vague and iffy.

Later…

“Dwell on the dead, miss out on the living.”

“Dwell on the past, miss out on the present.”

I totally agree with these quotes and I feel bad for people like Marie and my nieces, who are apparently stuck in a rut and unable to move on. I thought I was bad at moving on, and I am to a degree. If you had a hand in abusing me as a child, be it physically, verbally or emotionally, I will never forgive you. If you had a hand in seeking legal vengeance upon me in Arizona in the name of hate and revenge, I will never forgive you. And I definitely won’t forget.

However, I choose not to dwell on or focus on their actions on a regular basis like I did when I was younger. Why? Because nothing can change what they’ve done nor is that helping me in any way. All that does is let them win. But apparently, some people can’t get over shit that was done to them 50 years ago and have allowed it to interfere with their daily lives. As I learned, if I keep obsessing over shit that happened in the past, I’ll only miss out on what’s going on at the moment and it could affect my future, too.

Another thing that worries me a bit is how focused on the departed some people can be as opposed to the living. As much as I miss my foster parents, that too, is something I realize is pointless to think of or make a note of regularly because nothing can bring them back and I just think there comes a point in time when you don’t forget, of course, but you really do need to move on. If you don’t, you stay stuck in a rut and you basically miss out on the living. Sometimes I want to shake these people and say, “Hey! Come on, look around you. You’ve got good things going for you and people who are alive and care about you very much.” But I know it’s not my place to do so.

But still, I feel sad for those held back by their emotions and experiences, and while I’ve certainly been there myself, if I can find the strength to stop living in the past and be held back by what can’t be undone, so can they. I know some of the people I’m thinking of have seen therapists and while that can certainly help, the rest has to be up to us.

I could cry and bitch and moan about all I’ve lost and all that’s gone wrong in my life, and sometimes I do, but the more I do this, the more I lose sight of what’s positive in my life like the man who has always been there for me, my bestie, our upcoming trip to Hawaii and many other things. Our dearly departed aren’t coming back and nothing’s going to undo what some evil, insecure, jealous-driven or hateful asshole did to us way back when.

I rarely check most people’s profiles on social media, but every now and then I peek in on some folks in hopes of finding that they’ve moved on at least somewhat and aren’t so stuck in past losses and events that can never be changed. I think they would find life would be a lot easier on them if they did, but I also realize that everyone handles things in life differently and only they can decide when to let go of what - not completely but at least a little - and dive into the moment and the future as well.

So, here’s my own mix of negative and positive. I slept shittily and am still lightheaded, but no headache after using the rash ointment again today. Yay! Got the house clean, laundry done, workout completed, and now I’m looking forward to a fun, relaxing but productive weekend. Will be writing the night away, planes and freeway traffic noise or not. :)

Later…

One of the K-cup pods includes a mystery flavor. It has a big question mark on it. Definitely going to try that one when I get up. Got a Sleepytime tea bag ready for when they wake me up, too. Yeah, the little traffic bastards woke me up now that I’m rolling on to nights. The loud car didn’t visit so they didn’t wake me up but the garbage truck did.

First, I woke up a few hours after I crashed because I was going from warm to cold and was burning and itching. This was about 6 AM. So I got up and peed, wiped myself with a wet wipe, and then it took 2 baby Benadryl and 1 hour to fall back asleep. Never had any tea, though I did get up long enough to bitch to Tom about it on Skype.

I fell back asleep until 11:30 when the neck knockers woke me up which I still think is mostly due to my ears and being hyperaware, as Tom says, because my blood pressure wasn’t that high. The upper number is usually in the 130s.

Then in another hour, it was the garbage truck’s turn to wake me up. About a half-hour later I finally dragged myself out of bed, not wanting my schedule to jump too much and knowing that they’re going to fuck with my sleep for the next week or so that I’m on nights.

Been lightheaded on and off and totally regret not seeing the ENT sooner. Really hope she alleviates my lightheadedness when I do see her! Meanwhile, I’ve got another month of lightheadedness to go. Tom thinks some of it is still the peri. I’d rather that than anxiety. Anything is better than that. I’m stable so far today.

No music yet tonight but there are tons of loud planes that might be helicopters swarming about and I reckon they will until after midnight. The shit really does get old. No doubt that this place holds the record for planes, landscaping and traffic noise.

THURSDAY, MAY 3, 2018 Wow, traffic let me sleep till 10:30. Now can we stop the weekly projects? Even when I’m not hearing tools and equipment, the constant door slamming of vehicles gets old. Wish we were rich enough to hire services so often ourselves, LOL!

Accidentally woke up Bob & Virginia because by the time I tapped on their storm door was when I realized they were napping in their recliners. I’ll be “punished” tenfold for that as I roll onto nights. That insanely loud car is back to visiting and I really hope it’s not gearing up to move back in. I do NOT want to go back to hearing that thing roar in and out of here 6 times a day or more!

Anyway, I went next door cuz Audrey got mail from the fire department and I thought she was still friends with Bob and Virginia since they went to Gene’s funeral and all that. But Bob said he didn’t know where she was, so I stuck it in the outgoing mail. Audrey isn’t dead, though, because I just did an obit-check.

Speaking of the fire department, they were at Lawrence’s place again. I cringe every time I see them there, not just because I hate to see anyone suffer but also because I worry he’ll sell the place while we’re still here, leaving us with who knows what for neighbors too close for comfort. His place is right across from the bedrooms. Not an ideal place if you’re the light sleeper I am. There is always traffic and projects going on in places being prepped for sale and then shown to prospective buyers. Then you never know how much company or projects the new people might do. The new lady diagonally in back of us has been fine but that’s diagonal, not right in back of us.

The house diagonally in front continues to blast their TV at night. They have to be unfuckingbelievably deaf to need it that loud! Since it’s only mildly annoying and since I only need to keep the air cleaner on medium to drown it out, I can live with it. They don’t do it every night and when they do it usually stops by midnight.

Living here has taught me that not only are retirement communities not as quiet as I thought they were (unless you’re living in Tammy’s park) but you will hear something no matter where you live. We don’t have dogs left outside round the clock barking up a storm and we don’t have wild kids screaming their asses off, but never have I lived anywhere where I heard nearly as much traffic and landscaping. Car stereos aren’t as bad as Phoenix and Oregon, but I hear enough, even if most aren’t in the park. But the point is the same, whether you live in an all-ages community, an adult community, a house or an apartment, you’re always going to hear something. Therefore, as I told Tom, we may as well just focus on climate and price with the next place and not where it’s at as long as it isn’t in some gang-infested, rundown neighborhood. The most important thing is what I can drown out with the sound machine. The landscaping is annoying but I can drown it out with the sound machine. Some of the traffic, I can’t.

Is it possible to get a headache from topical treatments? I don’t get headaches very often but it’s quite a coincidence that the last two times I use this ointment I get a headache bad enough to need ibuprofen.

Still getting a little lightheaded at times, but feeling a lot calmer back on my old brand of thyroid meds.

Damn, it’s hard to see my laptop screen with progressives! I would need single-vision lenses for sure if I had to use this regularly as opposed to my large monitor. Maybe next time we get glasses I’ll get “fully loaded” progressives as usual and then a pair of plane single visions that don’t have transitioning or anything like that because I do use this thing half the time now. I work in the bedroom in the daytime and the living room at night.

All I remember for dreams last night was checking an incense oil list and being all excited to go out and buy some “Princess” oil before I realized I had some already.

Then I walked into my house which didn’t look like my house after leaving it unlocked for a while to go chat with neighbors. Worried that someone might have been in the house when I saw something out of place, I realized my purse was still present but went to check out the rest of the place anyway. I don’t think I found anything suspicious. At least not before I woke up, LOL.

Aly moved out of her apartment and in with a couple of gay guys because she believed that there was something in the apartment that was making her skin issues worse. She hates being away from Jase but in about six weeks they’ll be renting a house of Jase’s parents’ since they’re retiring and moving. It’s got two floors. I miss that! But in the West, they’re not the norm.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 2, 2018 My fucking pits are irritated from shaving and I’m so fucking stupid at times! I held off eating for 4 hours for nothing last night. Instead of going for my meds and then waiting another half hour before eating, what did this stupid idiot do? She went straight for the food! Took my pill anyway although most, if not all of it, was absorbed by the big bowl of Cheerios I had. No need to worry if this dose is going to race my heart, LOL, but still, how could I have been so damn stupid??? With labs getting closer, I can’t afford to skip now unless the anxiety picks up.

My weight’s gone into “reset mode” as expected (by retaining water and being constipated, mostly by the latter) and the ACV definitely does nothing for my skin. I was itching and burning yesterday more than usual. Enough to take a baby Benadryl. The rash is pretty much now all over my body; it’s just more noticeable in moist areas. If it doesn’t lower my cholesterol, I’ll stop the ACV shots.

For quite a while now, my body goes into reset mode at 154 lbs. and will start dropping at 157 lbs. as long as I don’t eat more than usual. Despite the extra weight bogging me down and making me less flexible, it’s kind of neat to know my body will automatically hold its weight no matter what I do and that I can count on this so I don’t have to worry about Halloween of 2015 all over again. I still fear losing a significant amount of weight!

Last night I dreamed that the rats were out, and the house actually looked like our house for once. I was handing Burke some food who was behind the couch. Then I realized I’d forgotten to close the laundry room and bedroom doors as Tom was trying to coax Simon from under the dryer, which he couldn’t fit under in real life.

The scary dream was that the cops kept trying to call and I was pissed that I listened to their voice message, figuring they had some way of knowing whether or not their message was picked up. I told myself to ignore it but I was nervous at the thought of knowing that if they could find out my number, they could easily find out where I live.

That loud car came to visit a little while ago and now it’s leaving. Please tell me they’re not moving back in!

Later…

The lightheadedness was getting better but now it’s picking up again and I also have a headache bad enough to take a couple of ibuprofen for.

Twice a year we do a huge Amazon order both for fun and for necessities, costing around $500 to $600. We just made our summer order which consists of the following:

A cart for the 3D printer, a small desk (Tom’s redesigning his office), tree spikes and some other electronics/computer-related stuff.

Decided to wait on trying any of the anti-anxiety remedies until I talk to whatever doctor I’m going to be seeing.

Tried the rash ointment which came today. It’s too soon to judge it, but anyway, we’re also getting:

An air filter for the small air cleaner.

A flavored coffee K-cup sampler pack.

My favorite flavor of Tic Tacs that I can’t find anywhere around here anymore, Strawberry Fields.

Coffee & Tea Lip balm pack with the tasty flavors of Caramel Macchiato, Pumpkin Spice Latte, Cinnamon Chai Latte, Mocha Frappe, Mandarin Mint Tea, Green Tea Lemonade, Watermelon Lemonade, and Pomegranate Iced Tea.

6 nice new, stylish grocery bags.

The forest mural for the hall and the elephant mural for the living room.

TUESDAY, MAY 1, 2018 I sat in the living room with the white noise off and listened to circular saws, landscaping, and car door slamming while I waited for Joe for nothing. I thought he was to redeliver the ointment but I guess these days you have to sign the slip like the one he left yesterday with instructions on what you want them to do next. I signed it today and he’s going to leave it in the box for me to pick up tomorrow.

There were ants all over the mailboxes so I sprayed them, especially inside our box.

I’m glad to say I’m finally getting less lightheaded as I continue to treat my ear. No anxiety yet either.

Our new oven will be here on June 7th. He’ll be taking the first week of June off and during that week, we will each see our PCPs and I’ll see my ENT too.

We decided we’re going to go back to picking up groceries ourselves for a while and I’ve even picked out an adorable set of rainbow grocery bags for when we do our next Amazon order which will be huge and soon. Included in it will be the murals as well as stuff for the house and for ourselves.

Raley’s seems to have too many issues with substitutions and the Walmart site is glitchy as hell. We’ll still use Raley’s periodically but the main reason we’re going to go to Walmart on Sundays is that Walmart has more food we like. It’s also cheaper. Every other Saturday we’ll hit Sam’s Club.

The Twenties have a lot more money than I thought they had to be hiring people to do projects for them every fucking week. Some van with the word ‘electric’ on it was slamming doors on and off all day. I’m surprised they haven’t hired anyone to do their landscaping yet.

[agirlandhersweetdelusions]

Idea Interest Check 📖 Sapphic Bookclub Edition

Hello internet people,

Recently, by recently I mean since I became too aware of the Barnes and Noble romance section, I've been thinking about how far queer literature has come.

When I was younger, to see such incorporation of the LGBTQ+ community within the bookshelves of popular stores was merely a dream. I did not know that it was possible for queer people to love openly.

Today, I know that it is possible, and I have experienced how beautiful it can be when people are free to express themselves. Yet, there is still work to be done regarding inclusivity.

Specifically, with sapphic and lesbian literature, there is a lack of space on the shelves for novels featuring black, queer women.

Now, let us take a small step back. Sapphics have fought for decades to have the same understanding (though you can hardly call it that as the world is so full of prejudice at times) that gay men have had within the written medium. BL manga, gay romance novels, gay characters as main and supporting characters in other genres, and more have become acceptable.

Women being seen as sexual creatures has made the concept of two women loving each other a taboo that people have a hard time swallowing. "What kind of woman is a woman that does not go out of her way to prove that she is something to a man?" That is the discourse that unfortunately manifests within some minds as a result of environment.

Sapphics and lesbians have come a long way for us to be able to see novels such as Pride and Prejudice and Pittsburgh by Rachael Lippincott or Delilah Green Doesn't Care by Ashley Herring Blake on the shelves. These novels are heartfelt, funny, and amazing in and of themselves, but they do leave a representative sized hole in my heart to no fault of their own.

Upon reading The Sea Witch by Katee Robert and That Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Demon by Kimberly Lemming - honorable mention to Her Spell That Binds Me by Luna Oblonsky, I realized that the hole was a lack of immersion. When reading romance novels, I often root for the characters as they are written, but from time to time it is nice to see yourself within a character. It builds a sense of bond between you and this fictional person. You understand them more, and you feel seen and heard.

Thus, in the aftermath of these novels and a spiraling debacle with my sexuality, (Sapphic? Sapphic.) I decided that I needed more sapphic literature with black characters in my life. The problem with such a decision is that these novels hardly exists on the shelves.

Disclaimer, I am not a whiner. The medium that I crave, I do write it as well to craft it into existence. Moreso, you can find a wealth of diverse, queer books online for free or for purchase via Kindle, Audible, etc., but at that point it's like hunting for a needle in a haystack. Better yet, it is like grabbing a lantern to read your books in secret within a dark alcove. There is a way, but it is not the easiest.

This brings me to my idea of the morning which is to create an online bookclub where the media consumed is that of sapphic, black literature. To foster discussion, I could create a discord chat which would also be used to vote on books. The genre does not have to be stopped at romance, and since there are online resources books, we could incorporate a few downloadable PDFs for selection amongst the typical novels that you'd purchase (books are expensive, and not everyone has the funds or safe environment).

If this sounds fun to you, then please leave a reply! If it doesn't but you know that somebody else might, then a repost would be lovely.

Thank you so kindly for reading. Happy Monday 🌟

[pluppsauthor]

534 ft. (Western WIP)

Next

Been a bit since I last posted some writing... I think, I dunno. Today I'm going to post the first chapter of my western WIP. I also finally thought of a name for it! It's subject to change, but I like it a lot.

The name is 534 ft.. The name comes from Jesse's backstory, and is a bit grim, but it's named after the the act of digging 89, six-foot deep, graves.

Anyway, the first chapter is a bit long and I didn't want to shorten it, so I'm going to split it up into four parts over the next three days.

(I'll edit in links to the next/previous part at the top of the post when they get posted. Also, if you want me to add a trigger warning, go ahead and tell me. I'll put in ones I think of, but I might forget, not being insensitive, I'm just not the greatest at labelling thing correctly since I overthink things a lot)

---------------------------------------------------

[TW: Swears, guns, alcohol]

“COWARD!”

“You fiend...”

“BASTARD!”

“Traitor!”

“MONSTER!”

In a bed, a man awoke suddenly. He brought a hand to his head, then down to his chest. He slowly rolled over and sat on the side of the bed. He saw the light streaming through the shutters and sighed.

“You alright there hon? Got a case of the ‘ol sandlung?”

“...I’m all good, just a nightmare.”

He shied away from the kind woman.

“Could be the work of the witches, make sure you’re alright.”

“I will, thanks for letting me stay the night.”

“It’s no big deal.”

He put on his clothes and hat before leaving the house. On his hip was a silver revolver that reflected the bright light of the two suns rising for dawn. On his back was a sturdy backpack used by travellers and nomads alike. He went around the side of the small farmhouse to find his horse.

“You alright there, Biscuit?”

The horse gently nuzzled against the man’s chin. His horse was a beautiful grey with dotted white spots like stars in the night sky.

“Don’t worry, the suns won’t be as bad today. We only have to go for a few hours ‘till we reach Bitterbranch. We can rest there, alright?”

The woman came outside for a moment and saw the man fixing up his horse’s bridle and saddle.

“You don’t happen to know any magic yourself there sir?”

The man turned back to the woman and shook his head.

“I don’t meddle with the stuff. What is it you need?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. My field was producing a little less than usual this time of year. I was just curious if you knew a spell or two for that.”

“Sorry ma’am, I don’t.”

“Oh, alright. You have safe travels alright?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me ma’am, I ain’t dying anytime soon and neither is my horse.”

She rolled her eyes and walked back inside. The man double-checked everything and got to riding out again. Some said the man’s horse could ride for miles on end without needing a single break. Some said the man was a living shade, rolling across the dunes and canyons searching for something that did not exist.

But these stories did not exist yet when he rode into the town of Bitterbranch in the mid-morning. He quickly found a stable and left Biscuit with the young stablehand before he went to fetch himself a drink in the local bar.

The inside was empty except for the barkeep sitting idly by with his feet up on the counter. At the sight of the lone man walking in, he stood back up and cleaned off the counter where his feet were.

“Howdy stranger! I don’t think I’ve seen you before, what brings you here?”

The man tipped his hat to the barkeep and took a seat in front of him.

“Just passin’ through.”

“Thought so, a couple dozen more people like you and this town will dry up in the sand. We need more people to stay here, ever crossed your mind?”

“Not yet, still got something I need to do.”

“So what’ll it be?”

“Just some water.”

“Ah, I’m ‘fraid the well is dry right now and our priest is sick with the ‘ol sandlung. Her apprentice ain’t skilled enough so we’re a bit dry right now.”

The man sighed.

“Just a mug of beer then I suppose.”

“Coming right up!”

The barkeep poured him out a glass from a keg behind him.

“Say, stranger, what’s your name? Mine’s Tim Banks.”

“...Jesse Graves.”

“Jesse? Are you from the east? That’s not the most common name out here.”

Jesse shook his head before finishing his drink. The barkeep quickly took his glass and began to clean it out. Jesse pulled out a stack of papers from his bag as the barkeep put the glass back on the shelf.

“Say, Tim, anyone pass through here lately?”

“Not particularly, why you ask-”

Tim turned around to see an array of papers scattered across the counter in front of him. They were all bounties of various bandits and outlaws. There seemed to be no correlation between them, and no consistency of age, gender, bounty, notoriety, or any other identifier.

“Ah, I see, you a bounty hunter or something?”

Tim took a long look at the scattering of papers.

“...Nope, don’t know of these people. I think I’ve heard a few of their names, like Cook James there, I heard a rumour ‘bout him a year or two back. But none of them came through here, no.”

Jesse tsked and put the papers away.

“That’s a shame.”

“Sorry, Jesse, I wish I could help you out. But, if I may, can I ask why you are looking for those people? Are you just a bounty hunter? I haven’t heard of most of these people and plenty of them have bounties lower than 100 Mire. Sorry if I’m overstepping here, but this doesn’t really seem like a good way to keep afloat if that’s what you’re after.”

“It ain’t for no silver or gold. I’ve got my reasons.”

[yumeasmrscript]

[Part1] [M4A] The Wizard rescues you after you tried to steal from him [Fantasy] [Neko listener] [Hurt Listener] [Selfless speaker] [Strangers to ?]

Author notes: Hi everyone! This is my first ASMR script, and I would really appreciate some feedback, as this is not what I usually write, but I wanted to try it! (Please be kind tho lol). Another thing: English is not my first language, so I’m very sorry if you find some mistakes or things that just seems… weird, you know? So, to the actors that would like to use this, feel free to edit it to fix anything that doesn’t sound grammatically correct. I did my best, but I want to improve, so if that happens, feel free to let me know what needed to be fixed, so I can do a better job next time. Also, please credit me if you use it and let me know, I’d love to hear it! It is okay to monetize with the script! That’s all I wanted to say, hope you will enjoy this <3

Summary: The Wizard (Speaker), realized that he missed an ingredient for his potions: a particular flower that only blooms at night, with the full moon. He decides to go out to look for it in the nearest woods, and while he search for it, Listener steal his bag. The Wizard chases them, but finds them nearby, injured, and confused to see that the cat that stole the bag, is now half-human.

This is part 1 of a small series that, I think, should be around 7-8 parts in total. I'll try to update all parts as soon as possible!

[Action/things happening/sounds] *Moods* Thinking

__________

[Bubble sounds]

*Talking quietly, concentrated* …Then I add a little bit of this, and…

[wait a few seconds and the bubbles stops]

*Frustrated* Oh, great! Another potion wasted. Sigh… What went wrong this time? It shouldn’t have been of that… dark red color, but a glowing white. Ugh, let me check again the recipe.

[Walking steps, pages of book being turned]

Oh… Oh! I see, I see. I shouldn’t have used the firefly rose for this, but the moonlight rose. Yeah, that makes sense, how could I forget? What kind of sleeping potion would that be without THAT flower? Sigh, I really need to get better at this. If I want to really make a living out of this, I can’t just… training on spells alone. Potions needs practice too. And that client needs it for tomorrow…

[Small sound of book being closed]

*Energetic* All right! Let’s get back to work. I’ll get this done, and then I’ll finally go to sleep.

[Walking steps, sounds of glass bottles]

...Huh?

[More sounds of glass, faster]

*Worried* No. No, no, no. Wait. Don’t tell me… Ugh, I can’t believe this! Did I really have to run out of the moonlight rose extract tonight of all nights?

*Dismayed* Oh come on… how am I going to finish the sleeping potion now? I can’t believe it, what am I going to do? Sigh…

[Walking steps]

*Realization* Wait a moment, tonight is… oh, yes! Yes! There’s the full moon tonight, the moonlight rose must be blooming right now! I can still make it.

[Sound of coat being put on]

*Determined* All right! I guess I might have to sacrifice my sleep for tonight in order to finish this potion… but that’s what happens when you forget to refill your ingredients. I’ll get some rest in the morning. For now, I’ll just go and gather a bunch of moonlight roses. Coat on, keys, bag… and a knife, just in case. You never know what may be out there, and spells could not be quick enough.

[Walking steps, door opening and closing]

[Wind blowing]

*Shivering* Brr, that’s a cold night. Winter really is around the corner, huh? Anyway… let’s get this done. The moonlight rose should be growing in those woods…

[Walking steps on grass, for a few seconds]

Here they are. Those are really beautiful flowers. Even in a cold weather like this they manage to bloom, just thanks to the full moon shining its light on them.

[Bag falling on the ground, sound of picking up flowers/grass]

One, two, three… and there are more over there…

[Walking steps on grass, but quieter]

*Confused* Wait a moment… that sound… am I not the only one here?

[More walking steps on grass]

*Slightly worried* Shoot, there’s definitely someone else. But those steps… it didn’t sound like they were human steps. They were more… quiet. Could that be some kind of wild animal? I mean, I’m in the woods after all. That would be normal.

Well, anyway, I gathered enough moonlight rose, I’ll just go back and get the job done.

[Wizard’s walking footsteps]

*Quietly* Okay, I’ll just put these in my bag. I should have left it the-

[Fast steps on grass]

Was that… a cat?! Hey! *Screaming* HEY! COME BACK HERE!

[Running sound on grass, Wizard has short breath because of the run]

You… thief…! Give me back… my bag!

[Bushes/leaves sounds, running sound stops]

*Panting* Hey… stop…!

*Catching breath* Oh well… and in the bush it disappear. Sigh, at least I didn’t have anything important in there. It just sucks having to bring all of these flowers on my hands but-

[Pause]

*Confused* Was that sound… coming from behind that bush?

[Walking steps, sound of leaves moving]

*Quietly* That sounded like… a groan…? But not a sound that a cat would make… What the…

[Sound of leaves moving again]

OUCH! My hand! *Angry* What the hell?! Why would you scratch me?! Jeez, I’m the one who should be upset here, not you thief!

[Pause, wind blowing]

*Confused* What… who… who are you? Where’s the ca- oh. Oh!

Those… ears, certainly those are not human ears, and neither are the nails who scratched me, but… who is this person? They’re… really cute, though. I can only see their head from here, I guess I’ll just go around the bush.

[Walking steps, going around the bush]

*Annoyed* ...What do you mean “stay away”?! Why would I want to stay away? You stole my bag! Give it back and-

[Small pause]

*Confused* ...huh? What- WHAT-

*Embarrassed* WHERE THE HELL ARE YOUR CLOTHES?! Urgh, h-here, I turned around, I swear I didn’t see anything! Your tail was covering anything that wasn’t supposed to be seen. I, uuuh… take this, I can let you borrow my coat for now. It’s way too cold, and being without clothes like that it’s a very great way to get sick.

[Clothing moving sounds]

Could it be that… that cat was actually this person? I mean… they have cat ears, a big fluffy cat tail… I think I’ve seen sharp teeth too, in addition to their nails that look more like claws.

Oh, they finished putting my coat on. The irony. Maybe I’m just dumb- now they could run away with both my bag AND coat. But… how could I leave someone without anything on in this cold weather? Plus… they’re still here.

Sigh… Well, aren’t you running away with my bag anymore? Changed your mind about stealing other people’s stuff?

*slighty annoyed* What, are you staying silent now? You stay there, in my coat, holding tightly to my bag, you scratched me, and you’re not even saying a word?

Well, “staying away” it’s not an option here. Not when you have things that belongs to me.

Sigh, listen, I have work to do. And just to let you know, that bag’s purpose is to only carry these flowers, so… if you wanted money or whatever, you’re not going to find them there. Let’s get this over so we can go back doing what we were doing before… all of this.

*Surprised* Oh, you didn’t want money? What was it that you wanted then?

...Food? Are you… hungry?

*small laugh* And here I thought that cats were unerring predators.

Huh? What do you mean you’re not really a cat? Oh, I highly dobut my eyes were playing pranks on me, I clearly saw a cat stealing that bag and, for some reason, a human with some clear cat features is now holding on that same bag.

*Slightly annoyed* Yeah, yeah, that’s not my buisness. I might assume you just... shapeshift or something like that.

Still silent? All right, all right, you don’t have to give me an explanation about that, for now. Jeez…

[Pause]

*Calm* Sigh, I may be annoyed that you stole something from me, but you can still give it back. And, if you do, I’ll get past that. But… Okay, first of all, why did you stop here? You were way faster than me, you could have easily gotten away with your robbery.

*slightly worried* You… got hurt? You mean, while running away?

Oh, so you were already wounded before. How did that-

*Resigned* Sigh, okay, not of my buisness either. Well, I’m pretty sure that it’s not that easy to hunt while being hurt, is it? It would make sense to just… try to steal food instead.

*Gentle* Well, I think I can forgive you. It’s not like you can really get away with that robbery after all. So… can I see your wound? Maybe I can help you.

Why would I want to help a thief, you say? Because first thing, at the end, I’ll still get my things back one way or another, so it’s like the robbering thing didn’t even happen. Second thing, that’s something anyone would do. Helping someone in need when they have the chance to do so, I mean.

*Offended* Hey, don’t give me that suspicious look!

*Calm* Oh… is that because of this? My knife?

No, I was not lying! This was only for emergency if I needed to defend myself!

Yes, you did scratch me, but I guess… that was your way of defending yourself, am I right?

*Gentle* Listen, I don’t want to hurt you. And if you tried to steal from me because of hunger, I can’t really blame you. If you scratced me because you were scared, again, I wouldn’t blame you either. So, can you please relax and just… let me help you? Please? It costs me nothing to give you a hand if you’re in need.

No, I have no intention of putting you in debt to me. Does it sound that weird that I don’t have ulterior motives? You can trust me. I know we’re strangers, but… Okay, let’s put it like this. If I wanted to hurt you, would I have lent you my coat?

Exactly. So, please, can you trust me just like I’m trusting you now?

They’re looking away… are they… blushing?

*Relaxed sigh* Okay, good. Now, let me see your wound.

[Grass sound]

*Calm* All right, so… the right leg.

*Worried* Woah, that looks bad! How did you get a wound like this?! It… looks infected too... This needs to be treated as soon as possible, you can’t leave it like this. I… should have all that is needed to treat it at home. Can you stand? Here, grab my arm if you need it. You can lean on me.

[Pause, grass sound while moving]

Your body feels… warm. Could it be that you have a fever because of the wound? Hmm, let’s get back quickly. I mean, as quickly as you possibly can in this condition.

[Footsteps sounds]

*small laugh* Oh, now you’re giving me back the bag?

And… you’re… sorry for scratching me?

*Gentle* Hey, it’s okay. I’ll treat my wound too when we get back.

[Pause]

*small laugh* You’re welcome, kitty. ...Are you blushing? Hey, hey! Don’t try to scratch me again! I just want to remind you that you don’t have the strength to walk on your own right now, so behave yourself!

[Pause]

Don’t worry, my house is not far. And, since you’re hungry, after I’ll treat your wounds, I’ll give you something to eat. See? There was no need to steal.

*Sad* Well… you’re right. You couldn’t have known that. I guess…past bad experience?

I figured.

Huh? What can you do return the favor? If you want to, but you don’t need to, we’ll think about that later, it’s not that important right now.

...Oh, wait.

*Upset* The flowers! I forgot the moonlight rose! Urgh, Now I can’t finish the pot-

*Calm* Huh? You took some while I was checking your wound? Well, that was smooth, I didn’t see it. I thought you were done with stealing stuff.

*Laughing* You’re right, it doesn’t make sense to steal something you could find near you. Well, thank you for grabbing some for me, at least I’ll be able to finish the potion with that ingredient.

Me? Oh, I’m a wizard. But… it’s not that long that I started practicing magic, I still have a lot to learn. But here, near town, I’m the only one who can use magic, and people count on me, so... I really need to improve.

*curious* Hm? Did you want to say something? I think I saw you opening your mouth...

[small pause]

No? Oh, all right then.

[pause]

*Gentle* We’re almost home, hold on just for a little longer.

[Footsteps sound fading]

[tera-91]

More word salad

I know I just posted today, maybe yesterday depending on when I decide to post this. I was torn. What should I do with my time? If the last several days were any hint I probably wouldn’t be getting to sleep anytime soon.

I could be productive. I could go to my computer to do one of many things.

I could edit my youtube videos. But Im stuck. The video Im working on got a little garbled. The video is there but the audio is either lost or im not sure where it goes as I recorded it in several sessions. Unfortunately, I cant scrap it as it is part of a series and the remaining videos I recorded follow that. Should I just skip it for now and at least get the follow up videos edited?

I don’t really want to do that as I just spent im not sure how long. At least a few hours recording more of the series today. Im a bit spent on the topic.

I could go to my computer to work on another project but that would require talking. There is so much background noise as I live with other people. It wont work. Or at least I feel like it wont. That and I don’t really feel like talking in general. Its times like this that I wish I lived alone. I could make sure there was no background noise. Or at least no one would ask me why Im up at 3 in the morning talking to myself.

I could go to my computer to write. Which I am doing that but I mean should probably work on scripts. I want to do other content than what Im doing now and it would require scripts. Ive done it before but it takes so long to write, check over the script, record it, edit the audio as sometimes its takes a few tries at a line and then edit the video. If I did that I would only release a video every month, maybe every other month. Which doesn’t work for building a channel.

I could write a story. But what kind of story? I feel like I haven’t watch sanders sides in such a long time. Or at least I feel like I have lost touch with how I feel the characters personalities are like. Same thing about the ninja turtles. Its been forever and a day since I watched any of the series. Or the movies. It makes me want to just go on my phone and go down a rabbit hole of watching those things over again to get a feel of the personalities. But do I want to do that? I want to get off of just watching endless videos and get productive. Or do I write it anyway? I remember seeing stories before where the author puts ooc for a particular character. Specifically saying that the character is written in a way that is not how they are written canonically. Maybe I should just do that.  

I might do that after I finish writing this. Hey at least over 500 words is a start at something. Even if it is just a word salad of a map in my brain. A map that has been ripped to pieces and somehow transferred to there pieces of paper so some things are inverted and one is trying to put it back together. Probably by the time I am done with this it will be nearly 800 words. A thousand if I am lucky. Something to get my brain started. I loved writing out quick stories thinking they would just be 800 words or less and then they turned into 1500, 2000, sometimes even over 3000 words.

I read nearly all the stories I posted on here today while I had to wait for something. It was as if those words didn’t come from me. Like I wasn’t the writer and I was reading the story for the first time. Im not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Like I remember writing them, the titles familiar and all but its like I cant believe I wrote them. I don’t know where they came from. But the mild EMBARASSMENT I felt. Maybe its not embarrassment. Im not completely sure of the word but I felt I guess like I shouldn’t be reading them in public even though theres nothing bad or risqué in them. Although some spelling mistakes I realized while reading them were completely embarrassing. But the fluffiness of what I would write. I have no idea where that came from or how to get back to it. It almost made me feel sad. Or maybe disappointed too. The amount of time that has passed. Seeing comments of people wanting to be tagged in a story. I feel like I let them down because I didn’t continue with it. If I continued with it or even started it over and tagged them would they still be interested?

Wow writing that all down makes it sound like I am so sad or depressed. Hell I might be a little depressed. Mostly just disappointed maybe of where I am. A little frustration to. Feeling like my hands are figuratively tied. Wanting something so bad while not wanting it at the same time. Like Im self sabatoging myself while still wishing I had something that I currently don’t. But I swear I am not in the sense that Ive dealt with a time before that was worse than this. I mean literally depressed that I didn’t take a shower but once a week, just went to school and didn’t do nothing else with my days but do homework and laid in my bed. I just feel that if I don’t write this and post it I haven’t done anything. I haven’t started anything. These posts are nothing but pebbles to be moved out of the way so that larger mind boulders can be set free. To open a flood of stories and motivation that I know I have. I feel like I have lost my place but I want to get it back. I want to get myself in a better situation. Don’t get me wrong my situation is not bad I know people have it worse. I just want it to be what is better for me. I have been off and on writing a book for a long time. Longer than I want to admit. I met an author last year. I was lucky to ask for advise and get an answer. He said that I need to bury that book. Write a million words. Come back to that book a better writer. Im not sure how many words my other post was but this post will be atleast another 1000+ words towards that one million. Stream of consciousness writing to figure things out.

Well, I hope everyone had a good April 1! It is so hard to believe that it is April already. Pretty soon it will be my favorite time of year. Here comes the spooky season and no one can tamp down my excitement for what is to come in the fall. If I could I would live where there is perpetual fall weather. Halloween town if it was a physical place I could live. Play almost nothing but spooky season movies and tv shows. Oh you best believe that Lisa Frankenstein is a current fixation of mine. As soon as that comes out on DVD I will have my hands on it so fast and it will be on repeat for DAYS. I will probably watch it the first oh 10 times it plays and about every third time after that at least until Beetlejuice Beetlejuice comes out.

[blondebeardtheparent]

Captain’s Log

Stardate 2024.02.27

Day 15

This morning’s drama was with the internet.  Our router decided to take a vacation, so I had to get that working before we could proceed.  It was a good problem because it revealed a vulnerability that we knew was there, but not to what extent.  I need to make a plan B for days when it is not possible to get online.  Handwriting is an option, but that also requires a desk so it’s not practical to do in transit.  Simon really needs a spelling list.  I might just keep using his school book.  We’ll see.

My mind has been running in dark circles complete with imaginary arguments recently.  I am really happy I left my job and chose to homeschool, but there is a part of me that is screaming, “You’re not making any money!”  That may be true, but I have done a lot of other things that I haven’t had time for so I wanted to list them for the record.

Things I’ve done since leaving the education system:

Traveled to 

Kunming

Dali

Lijiang

Taoyuan

Shangri-la

Camping with Isaac

Outdoor rock climbing

Checked out a business opportunity in adventure sports and hospitality

Completed a photography project

Started a blog

Edited manuscripts

Little Tiger Meets Baby Panda

Little Tiger Gets Sick

Baby Panda’s Apple

Finished reading

Photo Portfolio Success

Teach Yourself Tumblr

Studio Anywhere

Combatting Cult Mind Control

Forgiveness Made Easy

Almost finished reading

Best Business Practices for Photographers

Lightroom CC and Photoshop CC for Photographers

How Do I Do that in Photoshop?

Start With No

Learned to solder

Overhauled a bike

Lost 5 lbs

[raincitygirl76]

Yeah, I’m still on about this scene. I rewatched 2.05 again the other day, and the curtains scene remains stuck in my brain. They’d been apart and miserable for months, and they were starving for each other. Also, great work by the intimacy coordinator, which I’ll discuss in more detail below.

By 2.05 Wilhelm and Simon have already had sex on 2 occasions last term (after the football field and then in the fish scene). Yeah, both were several months ago, but I suspect they’re less hesitant in 2.05 because they feel more confident in what they’re doing. The explorations they did in S1 mean they know each other’s bodies better now.

Also, while the curtains scene isn’t “soft”, it has a ton of enthusiastic consent. And it starts out very soft, with a hug. Then a kiss followed by a silent check-in where they look at each other to ensure they’re both okay with the kissing. It just escalates fast after that. It’s been months, and this could be their last chance to be together EVER, since Simon is going to the police in the morning. They’re both desperate, and they’re feeding off each other’s urgency.

In 2.05, as things escalate, they’re practically ripping at their clothes so they can get skin on skin. Then Wilhelm pushes Simon until he’s sitting on the desk while Wille is still standing. Simon can still kiss him frantically, and wrap his legs around Wille, but he needs to keep his hands behind him on the desk to keep his balance. Clearly, Simon not being able to put his hands on this boy is a tragedy which must be rectified. So Simon shoves them both onto the bed, where he can use his hands as well as his mouth and his legs.

It’s an interesting scene compared to their 2 real intimate scenes in S1, plus Wilhelm’s dream of being with Simon in 2.01. Because those first 3 scenes were very “soft”, and the intimacy in 2.05 only starts out “soft”, then rapidly gets very urgent.

But I never felt uncomfortable, because the passion in the curtains scene is CLEARLY mutual. When Wilhelm gets frantic and pushes Simon until he’s sitting on the desk, Simon is very much on board, until he realizes he can’t touch Wille like this. And it’s like Wille being a little pushy is a signal to Simon he too can get pushy. Because he promptly ups the ante.

Wilhelm reacts with great enthusiasm to being shoved back onto the bed, straddled, and devoured with frantic kisses. He’s into Simon escalating the pushiness he initiated, hell yeah. Granted, he lifts Simon off his lap and runs over to the window when he realizes the curtains are open. Simon looks momentarily worried after Wille breaks off physical contact, like Simon thinks he might have gone too far.

But as soon as Wilhelm has closed the curtains, they check in again while he’s still standing by the window. Simon realizes why Wille left, and that it wasn’t because he (Simon) did anything that made him (Wilhelm) uncomfortable. They both giggle, and Wille moves back towards the bed as the scene ends, with the camera still on the curtains.

Another great choice, by the way. Reminding the viewers that the last time they had sex in this room, their privacy was horribly violated in a way that left them both traumatized. Their privacy won’t be violated this time, not even by the viewers. What follows after the scene fades to black on that last shot of the closed curtains is just for the two of them to share.

Shout out to Sara Aarhusis (I think I might have spelled their last name wrong), YR’s awesome intimacy coordinator, for choreographing this scene. Intimacy doesn’t always have to be “soft” to be loving and caring. Sexual partners can get frantic, but in a healthy, respectful way that makes it clear they’re both into it. And we see both Wille and Simon checking in regularly to make sure they still have mutual enthusiastic consent. It’s not verbal, but it’s there.

Edited to add:

I didn’t like my original word choice of “aggression” in paragraph 6, and said so at the time. In comments, @enchantingmel0dy offered some good alternatives, and I went with “passion”. So I have now edited that paragraph to take out the word I didn’t like. Thank you!

I think the sex scenes are more intimate in YR because of Sara's work - I don't know what kind of magic they are brewing but they are bloody amazing at it. I also don't think it's fair for people to say that they're soft. Obviously some are, but if you think about the scene in S2 E5, Wilmon absolutely devour each other. Which I am very here for.

It gets a 10/10 horny from me