#then had to wait a couple months while the insurance approval went through

[thecryoftheseagulls]

heard back from the surgeon's office and I officially have a date for July 2024 for top surgery!!

[getlostsquidward]

The gaps in your hearts (Part 2)

Lou Miller x fem!reader

A/N: You asked for part 2, and I shall deliver. I hope it's worth your wait!!

Summary: After your departure, an unexpected circumstance had you arriving back at the loft, back at Lou. Will the gaps in your hearts only become wider or will they be finally filled?

Part one

“Oh, bugger. Baby? I’m home.”

“Nice place.”

“Try heating it.”

“There’s a room for you upstairs. Your stuff’s upstairs too.”

Lou called your name a couple of times but she got no answer. Maybe you went out and got something from the store. She furrowed her eyebrows at the notion that you didn’t let her know you’ll go out like you usually does.

She can’t wait for you to meet Debbie.

The sun has set down and you weren’t at home yet. Lou was growing worried each minute that passes. She’d left you text messages, she tried to call you several times, but all of it went to voicemail. Where did you go?

Debbie had returned from her closure meeting with Claude. She had bought takeout for dinner but Lou wasn’t in any mood to eat. She was antsy but keeping it down so her friend won’t notice. Maybe you were called in at work? Maybe you went out with a friend and forgot to send her a text. The blonde knows you can perfectly take care of yourself but she can’t help but be worried.

“Where’s your girl?” Debbie asked, reminded of Lou calling someone ‘baby’ when they arrived earlier.

Lou just shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what to answer.

“Maybe she hit her head and woke up from the truth,” the brunette joked.

Lou glared at her friend. “Not funny.”

“Tell me about her.”

The blonde started to tell her friend everything. From how you met, the ups and downs of your relationship, and how loving and wonderful you are. You were patient and understanding; you were perfect in every way and she hated how she’d managed to hurt the one person that did nothing but love her.

The day you moved out of the loft was the most devastating day of her life. It was way much worse than when Debbie left before.

She knew that you were checking in on her through Matt, and she was wracked with guilt. Even after what she’d done, you still care for her. Lou unconsciously checks her phone to see if you left a message but to no avail. You really honoured your word that you’d give her time, and she was thankful for that.

In your two-month break, she really had thought about it all. She used the time to sort out her feelings. Hell, she even opened up to some of her other friends for help, something she rarely does even with those who know her. Unearthing her feelings.

Lou had feelings for Debbie. She didn’t know if it was romantic or if it was just a deep affection. She didn’t really think much of it. Debbie was one of the few of the persons she knows she could trust with her life and in the conworld, such a person was like a rare gem. It was hard to find, and if you do, you’ve got to treasure it. And so she did.

“Maybe you’d mistaken the concept of love and affection. You told me you really didn’t think anything about it and that explains it. The moment you felt that that person was dear to you, you immediately equated it to romantic love.”

The words mentioned had hit Lou, hard. Once she realized that, she promptly had to find you. She called you, but you didn’t answer. She didn’t know where you were staying so she asked your friends, and that’s how Lou found you drowning in liquor in some alley.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Debbie berated, feeling rather guilty about how she was probably the reason you left for the second time around.

“I do. No need to remind me.”

“I’m gonna tell you to go find her, but I also need you to focus on the job. Can you do both?”

“Of course,” Lou sighed. She won’t know what she would do if she were to lose you for real this time.

-

You were feeling rueful for leaving Lou without a word. You knew she’d be worried sick, but it was the best for the two of you. Once again, you fell into your routine. It was incredibly helpful that an event was coming and you can spend all of your time at work. Though this time, the constant drinking was out of your to-do list.

Your mind often wandered to Lou. She said something about a job, maybe that’s what they’re doing right now. Has she been thinking of you too?

The messages and missed calls Lou had sent you were not in your knowledge as you’d let your best friend hide your phone, and bought a new one for you. At first, you thought that it would be ridiculous and childlike of you but maybe she had a point. The worst-case scenario would be Lou filing for a missing person’s case, but you knew she wouldn’t dare cross paths with the police.

-

“Oh my god, you guys. This party is nuts. I’m not kidding! If your dress is ugly, you can’t wear it, no shit! They will bower your wardrobe!” Tammy rambled and rushed to get into the loft where she got everyone’s attention.

“I love that!” Lou quipped.

“Oh I gotta pee,” Tammy continued to ramble. “Every table cost a quarter-million dollars that if they allow you to buy one! I mean not just any $250,000 check will be approved, I mean they literally have to tell you whether or not they’ll take your money, it’s crazy!”

Everyone was standing outside the bathroom, still listening to Tammy rant about the Met.

“And then you can’t bring anyone, that you clearly go by yourself. They spend a hundred grand on food and apparently no one eats, it’s really crazy,” the blonde finished as she went out, kind of out of breath from the continuous rambling.

“Did you get the seating chart?” asked Debbie.

“The what?”

“The seating chart.” Tammy handed the special glasses she was wearing to Debbie.

���If I haven’t said it, it’s really crazy. This one person that I’m working with maybe is the only saving grace of that place. Thank goodness for Y/N,” the blonde sighed, capturing the attention of Lou.

She shared looks with Debbie, hoping that it was you their friend was talking about.

After discussing the seating chart, they approached Tammy and straightforwardly asked about you, if you were the same person she’d mentioned. Apparently, you quit your last job and had started few weeks prior to Tammy. Lou asked if you’re doing well, and almost cried when she nodded. When Tammy asked why they are curious, Debbie answered. “Lou’s girl. Left because of this dumbass right here.”

The blonde had a surprised expression on her face, a bit amazed at how small the world is. The person they’ve been looking for was only at their reach this whole time.

“She’s sweet. If you’re planning to get her back, which I know you would, you better not mess up.”

Since that day, Lou was itching to contact you but inhibited herself. She’d finish the job first, then she would have you back. If she was lucky enough to be given a second chance, which she wouldn’t fucking waste, she can finally go to California riding with you on her new bike like you always wanted to do.

Finally, it was the first Monday in May. Lou was still in the van with Nineball, preparing food for her. She remembered you telling her she would look good in a chef’s uniform. She wasn’t actually a chef right now, but she still owes you a hundred bucks.

What if you weren’t gone? Maybe you would be in on the heist too, and you would be the most beautiful woman in her eyes, everyone else in the Met is damned. She knew you would have loved and drooled over the green jumpsuit she was wearing.

The heist was successful, and the ladies were lounging at the loft. Their dillydally was halted when an unexpected guest has stormed the loft. Daphne Kluger.

“You guys are fucked,” the actress huffed. “Wow, nice place.”

“Excuse me, you are trespassing-”

“No, we asked her to come,” Lou cut Tammy’s accusation.

Debbie started to explain how Daphne might have gotten a sense of what they were doing, so they roped the brunette in. Daphne then asserted how she was the one who was saving everyone from insurance fraud. Another revelation had caused panic to those who didn’t know, scared that they might be busted and imprisoned.

“We will not be the prime suspect.”

“Then who will be the prime suspect?”

Lou listed several people like the security guys and the busboy. Their attention was focused on Daphne that they didn’t notice another person coming in. You quietly opened the door in purpose, glancing at each of the women inside. You’d heard the last bit of their conversation and captured their attention by announcing your presence.

“The shady guy who put Debbie away,” you casually commented, walking towards everyone.

“Wow,” Daphne chuckled. “The boyfriend.”

Everyone but Debbie and Daphne was shocked, for the third time around. They didn’t really expect guests today. Lou looked like she had seen a ghost but didn’t take her eyes off you.

“Yup. If they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

You whispered a “Hi, Tam” to your coworker, and took a sit in the middle of her and Daphne. “The precision, right?” the actress turned to you. “The attention to detail, a little grace note that really makes something sing.”

While she was blubbering about how well-thought the job was, she scooted closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. Lou raised an eyebrow at the action, jealousy bubbling in her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, referring to Daphne. “And Y/N? You were in too? How?”

You let the brunette answer first and when she finished, Debbie had answered for you.

“She was our other mole in the Met, aside from you and Nine.”

“Oh, you were an angel, Y/N. She made sure I was okay after hurling my guts out. Much much better company than my date,” Daphne preached, leaning her head on your shoulder. You rest your head on hers in return.

Lou’s jaw was gritted, it was too much for her and she couldn’t look any longer. She looked at Debbie and gave her a perplexed look, asking for further explanation.

The brunette just shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was up to you to talk to Lou. After all, it was the reason she approached you. At first, she had only talked to you about Lou, but later called to ask if you were willing to join in the job. You’d said yes right away.

That night, you saw Lou sitting near the shore. She was staring straight ahead as you sat next to her.

“Lou?”

“You know, I planned to talk to you after we got the money. But you got to me first,” she whispered.

“You have to thank Debs for that.”

Lou chuckled, “Debs? What, you’re on a nickname basis now? She doesn’t even let me call her that.”

“She told me everything. And, I- I’m sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have left like that, left you worried though you had a job to focus on-”

Lou cut you off as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, Y/N. I should be the one apologizing.”

Her hand was running up and down your back, the touch soothing all of your troubles. You can finally feel at peace. There was no snarling voice at the back of your head, no heavy feeling. You feel like a sailor in the middle of a calm sea.

“I’ll make it up to you, for real, this time,” Lou pulled back, giving you a smile. You nodded in return.

“Although you may have to explain first what was that earlier,” her smile faded, and glared at you playfully.

You were about to ask what she was referring to when you suddenly remembered. You told her how you may or may not have told Daphne that you were on a rough patch and she volunteered to help make Lou jealous. Both of you shared a laugh as she commented on how effective it was that she had to restrain herself from tearing you apart from the actress.

There was no time to waste, you thought as you pressed your lips against Lou’s. The kiss was slow and passionate, the both of you pouring all your feelings out. Her hand entangled itself on the base of your skull as she deepened the kiss, tongue swiping on your bottom lip asking for entrance. You let her dominate you, a soft moan coaxed out of your mouth.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Lou’s lips; your hammering heart and the waves lapping gently at the shore.

“I love you, baby,” Lou murmured, both of you breathless.

“I know, Lou. I love you too.”

[qwertyuioplmm]

So my week’s been kinda crazy… I had a bad wave of dysphoria that prompted me to go top surgeon hunting. And I found a surgeon who claimed they scheduled consultations like a month out. In my grand scheme of transition related things that was totally fine bc I wasn’t planning on getting top surgery until like May anyways. Well its three days later and I had my consultation today at noon. I was super nervous and the front desk staff on the zoom call did a great job at just talking to me while we waited for the top surgeon to join the call. Dr. Blechman walked me through options for peri first since he thought I would be a good candidate for it, and he told me about di too just in case we had to move to that procedure day of. He was super nice and helpful and I honestly was really vibing with him (also turns out we graduated from the same fucking high school so like, small world) So the consultation went well and he was like “you’ll need to see our therapist to get a letter of approval since you aren’t seeing anyone currently” which is no problem, I was expecting that, and “you’ll get a call from someone in the office about insurance stuff and next steps to get you scheduled and stuff too sometime next week”. Well about three hours after that I got a call from the office who said theyve worked with my insurance before and with that letter from the therapist its 100% covered. Absolutely fuckin floored me. And then she also wanted to give me a rough timline so she said currently they were booking out til october for surgery. And I’d been kinda throwing the idea around of going home for thanksgiving anyway… and november is after october… and I told my mom that I could maybe get top surgery sooner than i’d planned and she said she’d be happy to have me home. So yeah, now I have a thirty minute consult with the therapist next week and a plan to schedule top surgery for the week of thanksgiving. The last couple days have been so mind bogglingly quick in terms of all this stuff so I just wanted to write a quick chain of events so I can remember down the line.

Anyway that was super long, I’m sorry. Props to Dr. Blechman and his team for making this super quick and blowing me away with their response times. I am super thankful that this all came together so quickly and painlessly. Here’s to hoping the waiting game is the hardest part of all of it.

[serpentinesarang]

Familiar

pairing: chan (bang chan) x gender-neutral reader

genre: no smut, married!au, emotionally heavy, lots of plot build-up/context description, slow burn, fluff at the end, second-person POV

word count: 2098

content warnings: themes of death, depression/grieving, lack of eating, swearing; this is a SERIOUS piece that may make you cry. please proceed with caution and take a mental breather after. 

summary: your husband chan died a year ago, and life hasn’t been the same until you meet a peculiar stray dog whom you decide to keep.

a/n: partly inspired by the netflix anime film “a whisker away.” hint hint: australian dingo...

korean key:

⦿ sasaengpaen (사생팬) = crazy spy-like super fans, sasaeng for short; pronounced “sah-seng”

⦿ annyeong (안녕) = multipurpose word that translates to hi/bye and no; in this story, it’s used in the hi/bye sense. pronounced “on-yawng”

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Preface

It happened a year ago. The crash. The sasaengs. The coma. The stroke. The doctors’ denial of life support. The funeral.

Your husband Chan had died tragically after a catastrophic car accident outside the JYPE building in Seoul when a group of sasaengs tried to take control of an already chaotic situation on the street. Chan had been rushed to the hospital, so bloodied and so internally fractured that he immediately fell comatose and incidentally suffered a stroke due to the bodily trauma. 

You’d begged with all your might for the doctors to put him on life support, but they refused, saying he’d be vegetative for the rest of your life. They even sent an insurance liason up to Chan’s ICU suite to speak with you about having to pay for his life support as long as you continued to live, and you were just so beaten down by all the hospital staff that you agreed to release his body to the funeral home his parents had flown in to coordinate with.

And you were destroyed. 

Your employer had given you three months’ bereavement, but you still couldn’t bear to go to work for four more months. You slept 12 hours on Chan’s side of the bed every night and only wore his clothes during those four months of intermittent crying. After you used up the remaining sick days and paid time off you’d accrued over the years, your manager finally terminated you for missing too much. The next two months were spent on the couch with no appetite and inconsistent sleep, the good memories of Chan continually flooding back to you at random times. 

This was when you’d decided it was time to get your shit together because the scale declared you 15 lbs [7 kg] lighter; the circles under your eyes scared you each time you dared to glance in a mirror; and your phone’s mailbox had filled to its limit with messages from anyone and everyone offering their condolences for your loss. So three months passed, and you were able to gain back most of your weight, sleep more consistently, and clean out your social media.

Those last three months were the cleansing your soul so desperately needed, and for the first time since the incident, you were starting to feel a level of normalcy again. You’d even pushed yourself to get back into the workforce, and thankfully, this new employer didn’t cause a scene about your 11-month gap in job history. 

The dominoes were falling back into place. Sadly, you’d felt compelled at one point to ghost the rest of Stray Kids because it was just too painful for you to act like you could handle yourself around them. Out of worry and compassion, they all individually sent you messages here and there, but you told yourself maybe in the future. After all, your life had disintegrated to less than dust, so you were your priority moving forward.

Now

Your phone’s alarm wakes you to another dreary November day. It’s a snippet of an audio message he’d left you long, long ago when he was away for a tour. “Good morning to you, [Mr./Mrs.] Bang, my beautiful angel. I’m thinking of you as always. Text me when you get this. Love you, honey.”

November 25th, to be exact: the one-year anniversary of Chan’s death.

You sigh, whispering to the ceiling, “I love you too, baby.”

You pick yourself up, go through all the usual motions, and head to work in the morning snow, trying to keep your mind as numb as you’ve been recently feeling. Perhaps you’ll do a little something once you return home, you resolve.

The workday passes; the snow continues blanketing the city; and nothing really good or bad has happened in the meantime.

You step off the elevator onto your floor of the apartment building. You’re freezing from the windchill, mindlessly deleting spam email on your phone while trudging in your heavy boots to your door.

Once you reach your unit, something at the edge of your eyesight causes you to freeze. You take in the sight before you: a large, tan and white dog lying on your welcome mat with its front paws extended toward you. Its deep brown eyes stare right into yours, and you feel all the air in your lungs disappear.

“A-annyeong,” you murmur softly, pocketing your phone. 

The dog blinks in response, not moving his gaze.

You crouch down in front of the dog slowly, trying not to spook it. “Are you lost, sweetie?”

The dog emits a barely audible whimper, and you can’t tell if it’s sad or relieved to have been found. It’s not wearing a collar, and its abundant fur looks clean, like an inside pet.

Feeling conflicted, you purse your lips. “You must be... I’ll tell you what: you be good and stay here for me, okay?”

The dog exhales sharply before closing its eyes.

Wow, well trained pupper, you think to yourself as you rise. You spend the next five minutes ringing the entire floor’s doorbells, even banging on the doors of the units that didn’t respond to the bell. Each and every neighbor of yours denies owning a dog that looks like a Shiba Inu, and they all claim to not know anyone else who might have one.

“Fuck,” you hiss under your breath after the last person closes their door.

Returning back to your unit, you find the dog hasn’t moved an inch, but it must recognize your presence because its eyes fly open, and its head shoots up toward you.

“I guess you’re mine for now,” you address it. You enter your passcode and push the door open, pointing expectantly with an approving facial expression for the dog to understand it’s okay to go in.

And it happily trots inside, sniffing around the entryway while you shuck off your boots, parka, and other winter layers. 

The dog seems to be waiting for you to finish because, once you turn toward it, it immediately turns around and saunters to the bedroom on the far end of the apartment. You keep up at its side and determine with a friendly visual inspection that this dog is a boy.

Approaching Chan’s old side of the mattress, he turns back to you and sits down in front of the nightstand, digging his eyes into yours once more.

Your brow furrows as you try to piece together what’s happening. “What? What’s up, sweetie?”

The dog replies with a heartwrenching whimper, angling his snout forward as if asking for you.

You pad closer and sit on the backs of your legs. “Will you let me touch you?” you ask him softly, raising a hand for him to sniff.

Oddly, he straight up disregards your hand and leans forward to lick your chin.

“Awww,” you gush at his sudden affection. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” You stroke the top of his tan head, and again, the poor thing whimpers while leaning into your touch.

You scratch at the bases of his ears before cupping his jowls in your hands. “You’re such a sweet boy, you know that?”

The dog blinks rapidly, pushing forward again to gently lick at your unsuspecting lips this time.

Giggling and stroking his front shoulder areas, you say, “Ohh, thank you, thank you. I haven’t been kissed in a year, so I appreciate that, sweet boy.”

A moment passes, but you have to do a double-take when you notice the thick stream of fluid cascading from his shiny eyes.

You gasp. “Oh nooo, are you crying?” With your thumbs, you carefully wipe away his tears. “Don’t cry, sweetie. I did enough of that for nine months straight, and I can’t have you making me sad too,” you confide with the animal, stroking his head again.

He responds by standing on all fours and pressing the top of his head to your own forehead, and you go breathless again.

He’s so human-like... so emotional... you think, raising your arms over his body and hugging him. You stay there for a solid minute before he finally pulls back and sits again.

You sigh quietly, evaluating his expression. “I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long day.” You nudge your chin up to the bed. “Wanna rest for a while?”

The dog ever so quietly barks with its snout closed, as if in acknowledgement, and he waits for you to move first. So you rise and position the pillows on Chan’s side against the wall for you to sit upright. You spread your legs in a butterfly position, and without you having to beckon or give permission, the dog hops to the corner of the bed and situates himself between your legs. You notice then that he’s eyeing something on the wall above the bed.

The professional landscape shot of Chan with his arms tightly curled around you under a peony-adorned gazebo near a lake, the day of your wedding. You were looking into each other’s eyes with the sincerest of smiles.

You turn to glance at the framed photo. “Yeah,” you sigh deeply, turning back to the dog. “That’s Channie, my husband.”

The dog picks up on your change of tone and scoots forward as close as he can get, resting his paws on your upper thighs and his snout on your stomach. His gleaming eyes practically compel you to go on.

Placing your hands on his soft back, you continue in a strained voice: “He was taken from me last year, on this day actually, November 25th. He was so badly hurt in the accident that he went into a coma and had a stroke a couple days later.”

You pause, and the dog whimpers on your stomach, his sad gaze making your throat constrict and your eyes water. 

How can a dog be so in tune with me...?

You push that question away with a sigh and bring a hand to rest on his head. “I never left the hospital. The nurses had to kick me out of his room when he passed. And I cried my eyes out for almost a year.” 

Your eyes drift off, glancing at the ceiling and the walls while remembering your grieving process. “So now I sleep on his side of the bed... I wear only his clothes at home... and I shower with the same things he always did. He’s always with me, even when I’m not wearing my ring.”

Tears have started falling onto your cheeks, and you look back down at the quiet dog to find him crying again as well, his glassy eyes still intently watching you.

An uncontrolled sob escapes your lips before you mash them together, trying to keep it together.

“I love him so much,” you throw your head back against the wall. “I love him so, so fucking much,” you whisper, the hot tears falling faster now.

You hear the dog whine rather loudly, so you focus on him again as he raises his head. “He was my person, and now I have no one,” you blubber, using your hands to angrily wipe away the tears.

The dog replies with a seemingly uncharacteristic growl, its eyes still very soft in contrast.

“Okay, okay, now I have you,” you concede, catching your breath. “I don’t know where your parents are, and I’ve been alone for too long.” You pause, almost unwilling to continue. “Will you stay with me, sweet boy?”

He barks out a high-pitched yelp, spastically moving his paws against you so they’re digging into your abdomen now.

Cheered up by the dog’s responsive expressions of emotion, you burst into a brief laugh and scratch the underside of his snout. “You remind me of him, you know. Soft hair, gorgeous brown eyes, super caring.”

Again, he whimpers, very quietly this time. You tenderly kiss his moist nose. “I’ll call you Chris... because only I was allowed to call him that.”

Chris responds by licking your lips again.

Your random gasp makes him jump a little. “Oh my gosh, I bet you’re hungry or thirsty!” You try shifting on the bed, but Chris’s weight holds you firmly. “Do you want food?”

Chris lowers his snout, resting it on your chest now. He doesn’t make any noises, but you can guess what he means by this.

“Okay, Chris, I gotcha. We’ll stay here and eat when you’re ready,” you promise as you smooth his pointed ears backward.

...

I found them... if only they knew it’s me... I’m Channie, and I’m still yours, honey. 

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Iron

You get sick during the premiere of your dad’s last Marvel movie and try to hide it from him. 

-

           You really tried to pretend you weren’t sick. Mostly because it was a free trip to New York for the last premiere of your dad’s last Marvel movie and you wanted to support him, but also because the last thing you wanted was to be sick in your uncle Scott’s house. You felt bad the moment you got on the plane. You had to excuse yourself halfway through, climb over your dad, and throw up in the bathroom and hope that nobody noticed. You had left your toothbrush in your suitcase, so all you had was your TSA-approved toothpaste to slather all over your teeth and hope it got rid of the smell and the taste.

           “You okay?” Your dad had asked as you crawled back into the seat. “You look sick.”

           “No, I’m fine,” you lied, opening your book. You’d never gotten plane sick before, ever, because you’d been on planes since your eardrums were developed enough. But your stomach was churning like an ice cream maker. You felt like you were going to die. Your head was spinning, you couldn’t stop sweating, and you just generally felt like shit.

           “Okay,” your dad replied as if he didn’t believe you. You kept reading your book and turned your podcast up for the rest of the hour-long flight. By the time you landed, it was time again. You blew past your dad, muttering something about meeting him at baggage claim, and went to the nearest bathroom. You brushed your teeth again, sighing, and shoved your toothpaste back in your carry-on.

           You got to Scott’s house a few minutes later, since you’d convinced your dad to pay extra to fly into JFK instead of La Guardia, and right away went to the guest room while your dad talked with Sebastian. You took a shower and changed, hoping that would make you feel better, but as soon as you walked into the dining room and smelled the food they had ordered, you felt sick again. You didn’t know what the fuck could be up – you were definitely not pregnant since your boyfriend had broken up with you two months ago, you always washed your hands, and were a generally clean person so you shouldn’t have gotten sick from someone. You were just sick. But you weren’t going to tell your dad and ruin the premiere that he was so excited for.

           “You know we don’t even have to get ready for a few hours, right?” Your dad asked with a raised eyebrow. You walked over to Scott and hugged him for the first time in forever.

           “Yeah, I just felt gross from the plane,” you shrugged in response. You tried to eat a normal amount of food, but Scott could tell that something was off. Your dad was just blissfully unaware, like always.

           “So why are you acting weird?” Scott asked when your dad finally went to take a shower. His voice was lowered, as if your dad could hear, even though he couldn’t.

           “Because I feel sick and I don’t want him to know because he’s excited,” you explained. Scott put his hand up to your forehead and frowned.

           “Yeah, you definitely have a fever. Why didn’t you just tell him?”

           “Because he’s so excited. And this is the last Marvel movie, and he’s been super sentimental about it, and he really wanted me to see it. And he said I can finally meet Paul Rudd.” Scott laughed.

           “You really do love Clueless.”

           “Exactly! Just play along with me.”

           “Fine. But if you think you need to throw up or something while we’re there, I’m not covering for you. Your dad scares me.” You laughed a little bit. “I have some ginger ale if you want it.”

           You accepted it and switched rooms with your dad when he came out, starting to put makeup on. At least under layers of makeup he couldn’t tell that your skin was clammy. You tried to put a little extra on to hide it even better, but at one point it just stopped. You put the dress you’d picked out on and walked outside to the living room, where your phone was charging, and you waited for the two of them to finish getting ready.

           “Are you sure you’re okay?” Scott asked you through his teeth as you walked toward the car Marvel had sent out for the three of you. “For real.”

           “Nope,” you replied. Before he could say anything else you climbed in next to your dad, ignoring Scott’s look of worry. You tried to make conversation with your dad, but it was getting harder to follow. Your mind was just getting slower. Despite it being spring outside, you felt like it was a hundred degrees. Thankfully your dress had some cutouts so it wasn’t too hot, but you were still feeling whatever your body was trying to tell you.

           “Come on,” your dad said as he tried to steer you, realizing that you were walking slowly. You and Scott followed him while he took pictures and did interviews. You knew the drill – stay back unless an interviewer pulled you in. A couple did, but you avoided any major outlets. You felt yourself start going down, fast, and turned to Scott.

           “Scott,” you said in a warning tone, pulling him away from where your dad was talking to E!. “I feel…”

           “Oh, God,” he said, seeing that you were swaying back and forth. He held his arms out to catch you and tried to get you inside, but they weren’t letting anyone inside. “Okay, I’m calling a car, we’re taking you to…”

           Everything went dark before you could say anything in response. You only realized you were in the back of a car when you felt it make a sudden stop. You must have just blacked out, because the next time you were aware of anything you were getting your pulse read by a machine on your finger. Scott was sitting next to you, one hand on his phone, the other hand holding your free hand as there was a wire running just above his fingers.

           “Your dad’s coming as soon as the movie’s over,” he said when he realized you were awake.

           “What even happened?”

           “You pulled me aside and passed out. I told him we had a surprise for him. His phone’s off now and he’ll be pissed when he gets here, but at least he’s not going to leave.”

           “Thanks.”

           “I’m doing it for him. You should’ve said something to him and we would’ve taken you somewhere this afternoon before you fucking passed out on me!”

           “I’m sorry!” He sighed.

           “I know. Just lay down and we’ll figure this out.”

           Your dad raised hell about three hours later when they said that he couldn’t see you because he wasn’t the one that brought you in. He somehow snuck around until he got to the pediatrics ward and found you sitting by the discharge area while Scott looked through your wallet for your insurance cards.

           “What happened?” He asked loudly, walking over to you. Scott turned from where he was talking to the billing desk.

           “She has severely low iron,” Scott said. “She’s been sick all day and I told her to tell you, but she begged me not to. And she’s my favorite, so…”

           “Oh, I hate both of you right now,” your dad said, looking over at your uncle.

           “I’m sorry,” you said to the both of them. They sighed, looking at each other, and then looking at you.

           “I’ll go get a rental car and we’ll drive up. I’m not sure you should be flying right now.” Your dad went to go to the phone charging station and cancelled the flight and set up a rental car, leaving you to apologize to your uncle fifty million times.

           It was the middle of the night, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, when you had to get your dad to stop the car so you could throw up on the side of the freeway. He looked at you, sighed, and continued on while telling you how stupid you were.

Taglist (if you’d like to be added, let me know!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter, @eviemarvel

[waywardnerd67]

Spiraling

Summary: If something could go wrong in (Y/N)’s life then it did. Now she is on the verge of spiraling out of control. In her darkest moment, a hero will come to save her and set her on the path she was always meant to be on. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff/Self-hate Talk/Talk of Suicide Word Count: 5040 A/N: The last couple of months have been hard so this is my way of dealing with it. A lot of the details are from actual things going on in my life, but I’ve changed the specifics for storytelling purposes.

“Your cat needs emergency surgery to save her life. In order for us to proceed we need a down payment of $1500 and then the remaining $600 once she can go home.”

“Your starter is bad. You have a battery cable that is carotid. Plus we found that there is a leak in your head gasket and it will need to be replaced immediately. All together parts, labor and tax it will total $4976.”

“Effective Immediately: New Management. Your apartment complex is now under the management of Lindchest LLC. Your rent will go up starting November 2020 to $750 per month. There will be an additional pet deposit of $200 per pet and pet rent of $25 per pet. You will need to log on to our Tenant Portal to sign your lease within twenty-four hours or vacate your unit.”

I read the flyer that was haphazardly tape to my door once more. Looking down to Serenity, my cat with the $2100 bladder sighing, “Looks like you need to get a job.”

I unpacked my laptop letting it wake up only to discover that my internet was not working. I picked up my phone calling the all too familiar number.

“I’m sorry Ms. (Y/L/N), but it looks like there is a major outage in your area due to construction. We don’t have a timeframe of when it will be back up.”

I ended the call flopping down onto my couch, “I would love for one, just one, thing to go my way.”

The last month has been challenging between vet bills, my car being an oversized paper weight and my rent going up one hundred and seventy-five dollars plus two hundred dollar deposit. I did not think anything else could possibly go wrong until I arrived at work the next morning.

“Hey (Y/N), can we meet in my office?” my boss waved his hand for me to follow him.

A sinking feeling settled onto my chest as he asked me to close the door behind him, “I know we’ve had this conversation before, but your attendance.”

Tears welled up beneath my eyelids, but I held them back as he continued, “I know we’re trying to be cautious with COVID, but you’ve already been out sick quite a bit already.”

“I know I was, but my doctor recommended for me to stay out since I had more than half the symptoms of COVID.” My voice quivered at the end as my protective wall was crumbling.

He leant forward on his desk, “I know, but then it was your car issues and now you have a dentist appointment tomorrow morning that you just came to me about this morning. I just want to set up some firm guidelines for you using your time off from here on out. I would also like to see you come in for ninety days straight. (Y/N), you do a great job here, but you actually have to be here to do the job.”

“I know. I can reschedule my appointment for tomorrow and I will work with any guidelines you give me. I’m sorry about my attendance. I love my job and I love coming to work.” I was pleading as a wayward tear slipped down my cheek.

“I never once questioned that. We will work through this together. No need to reschedule your appointment since I approved it already. Going forward I will need at least one week's notice for you to use vacation days, forty-eight hours notice to use your personal days and twenty-four hours notice for your sick days.”

I nodded my agreement not trusting that I could hold the burning sob in my chest from bursting through. I left his office and spent the rest of my day in a complete daze. I drove home in the same daze only to have another flyer on my door from the new management.

“We Missed You! Dear Tenant, we entered your apartment today to make an assessment of it. We have found the following things broken, worn and in need of repair. Since this was not properly taken care of, you will be responsible for all repairs and they will need to be scheduled for completion within one week’s time. Please log on to your Tenant Portal to schedule this as soon as possible. Thank you, Lindchest, LLC”

I caught the edge of my kitchen counter as my legs gave out. The list of repairs was more than what I was renting the place for. I managed to get myself to my bedroom and landed face first on the mattress. Freely the tears flowed down my face and my body shook as overwhelming sorrow ran through her.

Serenity butted her head up against mine, “Hi baby. I’m sorry your mommy is a screw up. Would you want to go live with you grandma?”

She snuggled against my arm purring. My body relaxed as I continued to pet her and listen to her purring until finally I drifted off to sleep. Dreams of a better life tormented me throughout the night. The next morning, would solidify my darkest thoughts into a plan of action as the last bit of bad news I could take happened.

“We will need to extract two molars and all four wisdom teeth. I will refer you to an oral surgeon who can get you scheduled right away. After insurance, you’re probably looking at $1500 to $2000 for everything. You will have to provide fifty percent of the total at the time of service and then I’m sure they could work payments out for you.”

I took a deep breath, “Okay. If you could give me the information I will schedule it. I also need a note for my employer for today’s appointment.”

As I sat in the chair waiting for the dental assistant to come back my inner self yelled loudly.

“You are nothing in this world. You are providing nothing and only taking resources away from everyone. Serenity would be taken care of by your mom. Work will find someone to replace you in a snap. You have no friends. You have no place you can afford to live. I think it’s a sign from up above that now is your time to take matters in your own hands. It’s time to free up your space for someone more deserving. More functional. More worthy.”

“Everything okay?” I looked up to see the assistant holding my papers and I nodded.

I went through the motions of work as my mind was preoccupied of my choices for the evening. Texting my mom, I asked her to watch over Serenity for a while so I could find a new place for us. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary and I as I said goodbye to my co-workers for the evening, I felt peace come over me. Dropping off my cat to my mom, I told her I could not stay since I had plans. On my kitchen table there was one letter addressed to her that would be found when she would come get my things.  

I walked a half a mile down to a bridge that was over the river I lived by. The sun had gone down hours ago and now all that was left was for me to finally do something right.

***

Dean Winchester parked his car near the Jefferson Bridge watching as people came and went over it. His brother Sam was flirting with the local librarian, so Dean decided to give him the motel room for the night. He deserved it after all the crap they had gone through. He looked down at his watch, seeing it was coming up at midnight when something caught his eye.

A woman was looking over the wall down to the water. Suddenly he became antsy as he continued to watch her. He got out of his car casually walking towards her so as to not spook her. The cool night breeze blew through her beautiful (Y/C/H) hair. Her body was like a country dirt road with curves for days. His eyes were drifting down her body when she hopped up onto the wall and his heart leaped into his throat.

“Oh no pretty girl, don’t do what I think you’re trying to do.” He whispered as her eyes stayed focused on the water below.

Dean picked up his pace just in time reaching for her as she leapt from the bridge. His hands grasping underneath her arm and at her wrist.

“No! Let me go! Please let me go!” She yelled as I tried to pull her up.

“Sweetheart, trust me, life is not so bad that you should jump off a bridge. Let me help you, please.” He pleaded feeling something deep within him stirring.

She tried to fight against him, but he could feel her losing strength. With one swift move he had her sitting back up on the wall of the bridge. His arm tightly wrapped around her waist as she began to weep.

“No, this is meant to be. I’m not meant to be here. I’m nothing.” She tried to get out of his grasp unsuccessfully.

He pulled her off the wall and carried her to his car, “I’m positive that’s not true. Come on, why don’t I buy you some food and a drink then we can talk about it.”

Her body went rigid, “Why are you being nice to me? You don’t even know me.”

“It’s what I do, sweetheart. I help people who need it no matter what, but if it makes you feel better I’m Dean. Now how about some food and a drink because I’m starving.” He slowly let go of her as she looked down towards the ground.

“(Y/N).” she whispered as she reluctantly, she got in his car sliding across to the passenger side.

Dean drove to the bar nearby his motel glancing over to her every once in a while. Closer now, she was even more beautiful than he originally thought. (Y/N)’s eyes were soft (Y/C/E) and perfect pouty lips. Her body was turned towards her door as she looked out the window but he could imagine himself curling up next to her.

“Let me guess, you’re staying at the Chippewa Motel.” (Y/N) had turned towards him as they pulled into the bar parking lot.

He chuckled, “Yeah, why?”

She let out a soft laugh, “Because those are the only people who go to Sunset Bar.”

For a moment as they got out of the car, Dean’s chest tightened afraid that she would take off. He relaxed when she started walking towards the door and looked behind her to see if he was following. Walking inside, (Y/N) went to the furthest booth in the building. Dean took it upon himself to order them a couple of burgers and beers.

Waiting for their beers, he noticed quite a few men taking an interest in (Y/N). Even red and puffy eyed, she was still catching every man’s eye in the place. Quickly grabbing their beers, he made his way to her staring down every man on the way. He bumped the bottle on her arm motioning for her to move over.

“Thanks.” She muttered, taking a sip and curling herself up on the far end of the bench.

“I wouldn’t normally sit like this with a total stranger, but I think it’s safer for you if I do.” He watched as her eyes followed his widening.

She moved a little closer to him just enough for his fingers to brush against her shoulder, “As much as I don’t want to be a part of this world anymore that is not the way I want to go out.” She waved her bottle out towards the dispersing crowd of men.

“Why do you want to end it all?” His curiosity was getting the best of him.

A beautiful woman like (Y/N) should have everything the world could offer her. Happiness, money, love. His heart skipped at the very word. He pushed it from his mind refocusing on her.

“Have you ever wondered if God was punishing you for something you had no idea you did wrong?” She took a long drag from her bottle and Dean found himself swallowing hard.

“All the freaking time.” He chuckled remembering the recent bombshell that he and Sam were destined to kill one another because of God’s need for a good ending to his story.

She sighed looking up as the bartender brought their food to them. For the first time, (Y/N) genuinely smiled, “Bacon cheeseburgers are my favorite.”

“Mine too.” He smiled back at her before they each took a large bite.

For the next half an hour explaining everything that had gone wrong in her life up until today. From bad decisions, divorce, mental breakdown one and two, loss of jobs, unemployment, her cat, her car, her current job and her tooth. He had to admit the string of bad luck was hard to deny. None of which was a good enough reason to end her life.

When the waitress came for our plates, (Y/N) asked for a glass of water finishing off her beer. I placed my large hand on top hers covering it completely.

“I’m sorry you’ve been through so much and nearly all of it is out of your control. If you could do anything except end your life, what would you do?”

“Well if money was no option then I would grab Serenity and start a new life somewhere far away. Of course, I would keep in contact with my mom, but she would understand me leaving.” She stared off for a moment her face softening at the very thought of leaving.

Before he could stop to think about the words coming from his mouth they were already hitting her delicate ears, “I think I could help you with that.”

“W-What?” Her piercing eyes bore into his with hope, “How could you help me?”

“That is a conversation for a more private place and whiskey.” He chuckled and down the rest of his beer.

Dean started laughing as she practically pushed him out of the booth, “Well come on hero, I know a place that is private enough to talk.”

He threw a few bills down on the table for a tip and allowed (Y/N) to drag him from the bar. She directed him back towards the bridge except this time she pointed to a small, run down apartment complex. He parked next to the car (Y/N) pointed out to be hers, a newer SUV.

“I will deal with you tomorrow.” He pointed to the vehicle giving it a stern look.

Following (Y/N) up the stairs to her little studio apartment, “This is where the hiked up the rent?”

She nodded, “Yeah. At the time, it was the cheapest place to live. You just happen to be in luck that I have a bottle of whiskey stashed away. It’s in the cabinet above the fridge. I’m going to change out of my clothes and freshen up a little.”

Dean watched her disappear behind a room divider and made himself tear his eyes away from watching her gorgeous silhouette. Easily grabbing the bottle and two cups from a local Mexican restaurant he noticed a letter on the table.

“Mom, I know you’re upset. No, I know you’re pissed. I gave up. I didn’t come to you like I promised I would. I couldn’t come to you again with all my problems. I truly believe I was not meant to be in this world and that is why my life has been one shit show after another. I’m taking resources away from this world and not contributing to it. Honestly, everything will move on and you will live out the rest of your life not having to worry about me anymore.

Please take care of Serenity for me. Give her all the hugs and snuggle her extra for me. Mom, this was never your fault and there was nothing you could have done to save me. My mind is made up. The decision was made. I want you to remember what good times there were. I’m sorry for being selfish. I’m sorry for leaving you. Please know I love you very, very much. Goodbye. Love, (Y/N)”

“That wasn’t for you to read.” A small voice brought his eyes from the page but not before a few teardrops could fall onto the page, “You’re crying, why?”

He wiped away the tears falling down his cheeks, “I-I don’t know. I guess reading a suicide note brings out my inner Mr. Sensitivity.”

He tried to give her a sad smile chuckling, but his heart shattering into pieces made it hard too. She took the bottle and cups leading him to the small loveseat. They sat down before downing their first pours of whiskey. The amber liquor burning down his throat and warming his chest. He poured them both another drink before going into his own story.

“My brother and I travel across the country hunting all kinds of… things that go bump in the night.” Dean completely opened up about everything in his life. Carefully watching her every reaction as he spoke and only felt that there was once she wanted to bolt for the door.

“Wait…” she took the bottle and drank from it, “monsters are real?”

He nodded grabbing the bottle for himself, “Yep. Vampires, werewolves, chupacabras.”

Taking a drink, he handed it back to her allowing it all to sink in, “Okay so how does that help me? I’m not interested in hunting monsters or being a monster.”

“Well that’s good because I wouldn’t allow a beautiful woman to become either of those things. I was thinking more along the lines of teaching you how we manage to get unlimited money and then you could move wherever your heart desires. Is that more your speed?”

She nodded, “Now you’re speaking my language. God, it would be amazing to live somewhere remote where I could just write all day long.”

“Well, Sam and I can make that happen for you. We’re probably going to be leaving to head back home in a couple of days. You could travel with us then we could get you all set up and on a plane to all points nowhere, USA.”

Suddenly, (Y/N) launched herself into his arms hugging him tightly, “I can’t thank you enough, Dean.”

His arms wrapped around her and everything felt complete with her, it was strange for him to feel that way. Never once had he ever felt whole but a never ending void deep in his soul that was closing being near her. She pulled away slightly then pressed her lips to his cheek.

***

The next day, Dean had a heated conversation with his brother Sam. Once he was off the phone, he confirmed that I would follow them back to Lebanon, Kansas in my car once he fixed it. He dropped me off at work where everyone noticed the one hundred eighty degree mood change in me. I spent my last hour typing a resignation letter to my boss leaving it on his desk and packing up the few personal items I had.

Dean was waiting for me in the parking lot with his beloved car, “How was work?”

“It was… good. I’m happy to never have to go back to it again though.” He opened the door for me to slide in.

“Dean, would it be okay to stop by my mom’s to get Serenity?” His piercing emerald eyes narrowed for a split second before he smirked.

“Yeah, we can go get the furball.” He chuckled pulling out of the parking lot and leaving that part of me behind us.

I found out that Dean was an amazing liar, but also charming. He won my mom over in a few short minutes as Serenity jumped up onto my lap. I petted her a few times before resting my cheek against the top of her head.

I whispered to her, “Go check him and let me know what you think.”

I watched the shorthair tabby jump off her lap and up onto Dean’s. She sniffed him as he held his hand out to her. His nose began to twitch and she jumped down with a huff before he sneezed.

“Sorry furball, I’m allergic to you.” He sniffled before excusing himself to the bathroom.

Serenity meowed up at me before getting in her crate. The fact she did not hiss was a good sign and I closed her crate up after one last pet.

“So, how did you really meet Dean?” I knew my mom could see right through his story, so I told her the truth, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you should have come to me.”

“I know, but I just couldn’t. I was tired of being a screw up. I gave up.” The last few words were a whisper as my mom got up to sit next to me.

Her arms were around me as tears fell from both of our eyes, “Well I’m glad he saved you. Did you find a place to live?”

I pulled away from her, “Kind of. Dean and his brother are going to help me settle into a new spot. I will call you with all the details.”

I looked up to see Dean standing behind us, “I promise to take care of her.”

“Sounds like you already have. Thank you for saving my daughter.” In a rare moment, I watched as my mom got up hugging someone other than me. Dean was tense for a moment before hugging her back.

The rest of the evening and into the night, Dean spent working on my car. I sat outside with him on the green cooler from his car handing him tools. Grease covered his arms, hands and clothes.

“Hey tiny fingers, come here and get this bolt off.” He called out from under the engine.

I stepped on top of the cooler reaching over looking down to see his beautiful eyes staring back at me. Reaching down my fingers brushed against his as I loosened the bolt in question. Getting down off the cooler I found myself straddling over Dean’s chest as he slid out from underneath the car.

“Hey there pretty girl.” He smirked as I moved back from him.

“Ha. Ha. So, what’s the verdict?” I watched as he stood up seemingly towering over me.

I tried hard to concentrate on him, but between the leather musk on his skin and engine grease was making me dizzy, “Hello? Earth to (Y/N)?”

“What? Sorry, what did you say?” I felt my face burning as he stepped closer to me.

“Am I distracting you from paying attention?” Backing up until my butt was against his car, his hands rested on either side of me caging me in.

“I have n-no idea what you’re talking about. So, tell me is my car a goner?” I swallowed the large lump knotted in my throat.

Dean leaned in closer until their noses were almost touching tilting his head slightly, “Your car is fine. The mechanic was trying to get more money out of you. The head gasket is in great shape.”

He stepped back with a smug grin on his face and my body seemingly followed along with him before I stopped it, “That’s great news! The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

The next morning, I woke up  to low murmuring voices. One was distinctively Dean’s voice, “Sammy, I don’t know how else to say it clearer.”

His brother spoke in a concerned hushed tone, “I think you need to come up with another way because you’re sounding ridiculous right now.”

“All I know is that I have never felt this way in my life. Cassie, Jo, Lisa, none of them made me feel complete. None of them took away the gaping, endless void inside of me. I didn’t even think it was possible to feel this way, but here I am.”

Dean sounded distressed and that made my chest ache. I knew exactly how he was feeling since I had felt it since the moment we met. I had been trying to ignore the comfort and hope swelling inside me, but it was getting harder.

“Sounds like you’re talking about love at first sight or even soulmates.” Sam seemed more curious now than frustrated.

I took this opportunity to walk out from behind the wall divider, “Good morning.”

Dean’s eyes met me first bringing a warm smile to his handsome face, “Hey (Y/N), good morning. We didn’t wake you up?”

I shook my head feeling Sam’s gaze on me as I looked down at Dean’s Zeppelin t-shirt covering me, “Um I spilled spaghetti sauce on my last clean shirt. Dean was nice enough to let me borrow one of his.” I felt my face heating up as Sam nodded.

“Uh-huh.” He stood up walking towards me. Sam loomed over me pulling a flask from his jacket pocket, “Could you stick out your arm for me, please?”

I looked over to Dean who was rolling his eyes, “Sam it’s not necessary.”

“It is for me,” He looked at me as I brought my arm out and he poured what seemed to be water on my arm, “Okay, just a few more tests to go.”

I held a bandana from Dean over the small cut on my arm wincing, “What was that for?”

Sam wiped the blade on his jacket as Dean pushed him back gently. His vibrant olive eyes focused on tying the bandana, “Silver blade to make sure you’re not a werewolf or shapeshifter.”

“I’m sorry to be this way, but this whole situation is weird and I have to protect my brother,” Sam held his hand out to me, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

I shook his hand, “Yeah, nice to meet you too. Look, as strange as you both think this is, I feel the same way.”

I made sure to look at Dean when I spoke and his eyes widened, “Really?”

I nodded, “There’s a connection here that I can’t explain. Frankly, I don’t care if it’s ever explained to me. All I know is that being with you feels right.”

Sam's disapproving grunt had us both looking to him, “I think we should do a little more research into this. We should definitely get back to the Bunker and maybe ask Rowena for some help.”

A soft meow came from the ground below as Serenity rubbed against Sam’s legs affectionately. He knelt down petting her and I was surprised to see her go belly up.

“Wow, you must be an animal lover because Serenity has never done that with anyone but me.” I knelt down as well petting her soft fur.

For the first time, I watched Sam let down his guard and chuckled, “I’m usually a dog person but hard to say no to a cat who accepts you.”

“Wonderful, you and the furball can take (Y/N)’s car while she and I ride in Baby.” Dean slipped his arm around my shoulders bringing me into his side.

Sam nodded silently as his eyes never left me. It felt as if he were trying to read me, but there was nothing to reveal. By late morning, we were on the road to Lebanon, Kansas. It would be at least a day’s travel to get there, which Dean reassured me that they had done longer trips than this before. We filled the time by talking about everything from childhoods to Winchester's most interesting hunts. When I would get sleepy, Dean would pull me into his side and turn on his favorite mixtape. Being with him was as easy as breathing to me.

After a few stops for food and gas, we finally hit the city limits of Lebanon. The small town looked straight out of a 50’s sitcom. As we drove out of the rustic town, we drove down a long paved drive behind what looked to be an abandoned building of some kind. I was shocked when we came upon a large set of doors that opened into a full stocked garage.

“Welcome home.” Dean said as he parked his car with Sam pulling up next to him.

The Men of Letters Bunker, as the brother called it, was massive. Sam happily told me the history of the secretive group and how their family tied into it. Dean walked by my side with his fingers laced with mine holding my hand. We came to a door with the number eleven on it and Dean pulled her inside.

“This is my room. Of course, it’s the coolest room here except for maybe the Fortress of Deanitude.”

I looked around at all the weapons displayed on the walls. His massive record collection was set up in bins. His desk contained a computer, a small lamp and a tiny picture. I picked it up seeing Dean who was a young child with a woman he looked familiar too.

He gently took the picture from my hand, “My mom and I. It’s the last picture of us together before she was killed,” he placed the picture back in its spot.

After getting Serenity and I settled into our new room, I found myself overcome with exhaustion. Laying down on my new bed with Serenity lying next to me, I feel into the most peaceful night of sleep I have had in awhile. Dreams of adventures with Dean filling my head.

***

Dean sat with Sam in the Library, a soft smile permanent etched onto his face. Sam’s nose was nearly pressed against his computer screen looking into (Y/N). He was waiting for Rowena to call him back when a familiar voice came from near the Bunker door.

“You would have to go find your soulmate and end the world, Winchester.”

Sam and Dean looked up to see Billie standing tall holding her scythe, her hard eyes glaring down at them.

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[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #357

“your magic white rabbit has left its writing on the wall  /  we follow like alice, and just keep diving down the hole”

Are you better at telling stories or writing them? Writing, by a long shot. What’s one song you hate, but know every word to? i'm a barbie girl in a fckn barbie woooooorld What’s your favorite magazine? I don’t read magazines. If you could be an animal for one day, which animal would you choose? Probably a house cat. Be indoors and safe, able to just nap... lol. But I'd want another cat as a friend, too! Do you prefer outdoor or indoor concerts/events? Indoors, by a mile. I get hot outside way too easily. Do you know if you were a planned child? I don't know. What’s your favorite gem? Dragon's breath opal. As an adult, do you want to live in an apartment or a house? I'd like to live in a house, especially with the pets I want. I doubt many apartment complexes would allow multiple reptiles and inverts. Do you like the stem or leafy part of the broccoli? It doesn't matter much to me, but I prefer the stem. The texture is more likeable to me. Do bats frighten you? No, I adore bats! Does Paris appeal to you? Yeah, it's a pretty place. Are you a KPOP fan? No, I've never really checked it out. How long was your longest relationship? Over three and a half years. First time you kissed the last person you kissed? We were outside roasting marshmallows one night. Do you have to really know someone to kiss them? Absolutely. I don't dish 'em out for nothing. Were you anyone’s first kiss? No. If you had to be named after one of the 50 states of America, what state would you WANT to be named after? I actually think "Nevada" would be kinda pretty as a name? Do you think morals are universal or relative to the beliefs, traditions, or practices of individuals or groups? I've wondered this for a long while, really. I lean towards it being a mix, maybe? But more towards universal, I think... with some exceptions. This answer is all over the place, I honestly don't know. Is torture ever a good option? If no, why not? If yes, when? No? I think the "why not" is obvious... You just don't. What do you think is one one of the most undervalued professions right now? Teachers, garbagemen, retail and food workers... There's a lot. Have you ever seen anyone have a heart attack? Thank Christ no. Have you personalized your answering machine/voicemail? No. Have you ever had Fiji brand water? I actually don't believe I have, though it's always looked appealing to me, haha. What’s your favorite horror movie? The Crazies and the first Silent Hill, as well as both Blair Witch Projects. What was the worst thing a friend has either done or said to you? I'd rather not even think about things the bitch said to me. Are you biracial? No. When was the last time you got mad and broke something? I've never broken something when mad. What color dress did you wear to prom? My first was maroon, second one was black. Who is the cutest baby you know? My friend has a daughter named Scarlett who is absolutely gorgeous. Have you ever thrown a rock at a window? No, because I respect people's fucking property. Has anyone ever thrown a rock at your window? No. Does your hair react well to dye, or does it damage it? It likes to not take dye at all. >.> I have only had one instance where a friend dyed it red and it stuck for months and months, but we kept it in for a couple hours, I think. My normal hairdresser says it's because my hair is really healthy and I guess rejects it. What kind of pet do you wish you had? I ramble plenty about how I want tarantulas and more reptiles, haha. I also DESPERATELY want to rescue or foster an opossum. When was the last time you were diagnosed with something? Are you concerned about anything regarding your physical or mental health at the moment? I haven't been diagnosed with anything in quite some time, I believe, but as I'm going through the process of being approved for TMS therapy for my depression, my bipolar diagnosis is being questioned, which is... strange to me. It's been acknowledged by many a doctor that I have bipolar 2, but if insurance recognizes my primary diagnosis as bipolar, they won't cover TMS because it can massively excite the mania portion of bipolarity, and therefore I can't do it because we can't manually afford it. I'm willing to take the risk by far, as I've never had issues with mania, but I can't without insurance. I'm just waiting to hear back from them... What is one blanket judgment you tend to make about people (like, you judge all people who live at home, all people who drink, etc)? Does this judgment come from a particular personal experience? I really don't know. How do you react to other people yelling or slamming doors? Is this something you ever do too? I get very scared if it's a man. I don't like anyone doing it, and my anxiety will spike regardless, I'm just terrified of angry men. Have you ever lost your cool at work or somewhere else important? What happened as a result? No. Who has the power to break you? Jason still might. I don't know. Is anyone in your family blind? My sister is legally blind in one eye. Do you believe in evolution? Yeah. I do find the concept odd, that ALL LIFE originated from one thing, but I sure ain't got a better explanation, so. What job do you think people should be paid the most for? Surgeons, maybe? I dunno, that's a big question. Were you ever held back a year in school? Did you ever skip a grade? No. Have you ever been given a hickey? Have you given one? Yeah to both. What is your least favourite thing about your full name? I have the most basic white bitch middle name in the world, lol. Do you like the age you are? Eh, I don't mind it much, but I think it'd be better to be in my early 20s versus mid 20s. I'm just always so tired now. I can't believe I used to refuse to go to sleep before 10:30. What’s your favourite kind of poptart? The chocolate sundae one. If you had to eat one type (Chinese, etc.) of food which would it be? American bc I'm not very adventurous with food at all. When did your family immigrate to wherever you live now? *shrug* Are your fingers long, or short? Long. Mom's always said I have "piano fingers." Do you play Pokemon Go? If so, what level are you and who’s your buddy? Yeah, I love it, but don't play it nearly as much as I want because I don't exactly go anywhere, lol. My bud's Charmeleon, and I'm probably like five EXP from level 28. Do you ever sit indoors and wear sunglasses or a hat? I don't own either, so. Do you know how to read animals’ behavior? I honestly think I'm very good at it. Do you like playing video games? If so, what do you usually play? Yes, but not as much as I used to. All I really play nowadays is World of Warcraft. The only working console I have is a PS2, and I haven't bought a new game in probably a couple years, but there are definitely ones I want to play, mainly on PS4. Just can't afford it right now. Have you ever viewed the moon through a telescope? No. Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? No. There's no way I could, given my tremors. Do you prefer reading books, comic books, manga/graphic novels, magazines, or the newspaper? Books. When is the last time you ate donuts? It's been months, man. I've seriously been craving a glazed one, though. Krispy Kreme sounds amaaaaaziiiiiing. Has anyone ever called you sexy? Somehow. Do you like raisins? NO NO NO NO NO. Have you ever overheard a conversation you weren’t supposed to? More than once. Do you like ants? They're genuinely extremely fascinating animals, but they're seriously annoying nevertheless. Did you like the movie Antz? I loved it as a kid. What was your favorite ice cream flavor when you were little? Chocolate. Is it still your favorite? Eh, depends on the day. By the way, what is your name? Brittany. What time zone do you live in? EST. Do you like cats? I love cats. What’s the most creepy experience you’ve ever had? One night when my mom and sister were at the beach for a dance competition, I was having trouble sleeping, and it only got worse when my dog Teddy started freaking the fuck out, barking loudly and staring intently at the foot of the bed. I was so scared that I tried to force his head to lie down, but he fought against me. I was terrified, but got up out of the bed and went into the living room to call my mom at like 3 in the damn morning, and she had to have our neighbor come over to sleep in the house with me (I was in a different room that night). You can't convince me that there wasn't paranormal shit going on. I think the house was haunted honestly, for multiple reasons. What’s the most boring game to exist? Why do you dislike it so much? Hm, I dunno. What’s the coolest place that you've ever been to? What’d you do there? Disney World was very memorable as a kid. We just went around collecting signatures, going on rides, all that fun stuff. I'll never forget fireworks at the castle. If you’re interested in having a long-term relationship with someone, do you think that waiting a certain amount of time before you first have sex is a good idea? Or does it not matter? I think it's a good idea, personally, mostly for the sake of reducing the spread of STDs. Just because you think you'll be long-term, doesn't mean you will be. Besides that, isn't there a science that sex and feelings of love are connected? Like, sex is impossible without at least some underlying emotions? I might be entirely wrong, in which case forgive me for spreading misinformation, but if that's so and things don't go as planned, you've gotten emotionally invested in someone too early and wind up getting hurt. You do you, I just don't think it's smart. Have you ever discovered something big by looking through someone’s phone, Facebook, email, etc.? No. Have you kept anything from your past relationships? (Things they left at your house, gifts, notes, etc) Do you think that’s a big deal for future relationships or not? Yeah, like plushies and little stuff like that. When it's tiny things like I just mentioned, I really don't think it matters. I think some things might be questionable to keep, but at the same time, I don't think it's really wrong to keep memories of a happy time, if the thing still brings you joy and has been emotionally disconnected from the ex? Idk. Do you have any financial regrets? Either way, what’s an example of a GOOD financial decision you’ve made? Going to and dropping out of college three fucking times. I don't know about a good financial decision seeing as I'm not even in charge of my own finances, nor really have any to begin with. Are you a believer in “signs” from the Universe about things in your life? If you are, can you think of a particular example? No. Name some things that one or both of your parents are really good at or really interested in. Mom LOVES medical stuff, like watching surgeries and stuff like that. She is also absolutely incredible with children. Dad likes sports a lot, hockey and football especially. Think of a good friend of the opposite sex (currently or in the past). Have you ever had any sort of “more than a friend” or sexual thoughts about them? If not, can you explain why? Well, we dated briefly, so... It was awkward to, but I let myself imagine sexual situations a few times to help myself understand if I really did like-like him, or if he was truly just a brother to me. Turns out, he's a bro. If someone told you that you would never achieve something and you ended up doing it, would you have any interest in finding that person and showing them? I'ma be honest, yes. I wouldn't actively seek them out, but rather just hope they somehow find out or I run into them or something. What is the most jealousy-induced thing you’ve ever done? Apparently, be the girl Juan liked instead of this girl that literally threatened to deck me. Guess what? We're friends now lmaoooo.

[vaguelyprophetic]

top surgery experience

so i’m officially one week post-top surgery and i figured it might be helpful for some people if i shared my experience so! here we go!

i got top surgery with a surgeon in michigan (feel free to DM me if you want to know specifics, i just don’t feel comfortable putting that info out publicly). she was absolutely incredible and even though she doesn’t have a lot of results posted online, she showed me some of her past results and they all came out really well. if anyone is in michigan (or out of state, even, if you’re able to travel and if your insurance will cover it) and looking for a surgeon i would definitely recommend her.

consultation: i had a consultation back in march where i got to meet the surgeon, talk about which surgery i wanted/was a candidate for, and how to get in contact with a therapist to write a letter for my insurance. i loved my surgeon from the very first moment i met her. she was energetic and super helpful and answered all of our questions thoroughly. i was technically a candidate for peri, but i decided to go with double incision because i liked the results better and it gives you the most control over how your chest ends up looking

getting approval for surgery: my insurance required one letter from a therapist in order to cover surgery, so i scheduled a few appointments with a therapist that my surgeon had worked with before. it only took 2 or 3 sessions before my therapist had the letter ready, and scheduling surgery happened very soon after that. i managed to get in really quickly for my surgery (about one month after i got my letter approved), but i’m pretty sure that i just got lucky that we were able to move that quickly

pre-op appointment: not much to say about this. we met with my surgeon’s PA and went back over consent forms and what surgery would look like, some of the restrictions during recovery, etc. the PA was just as kind and helpful as the surgeon (the whole staff was) and the appointment was super quick and easy.

day of surgery: my surgery wasn’t until the afternoon, so i was able to sleep in a little later. instead i woke up super early from anxiety and played animal crossing for a while lol. i changed my sheets, took a shower with the special soap they gave me, and packed a backpack with an extra change of clothes, my phone charger, my toothbrush, and a zip-up hoodie to wear home. checking in at the hospital was a little weird because of all of the covid restrictions and guidelines, but it wasn’t difficult. i was a little anxious just generally, but the staff was all great and helped me stay calm

surgery: went in to prep for surgery with one of the nurses. put on a gown and special hospital socks. had to pee in a cup to prove i wasn’t pregnant (even though i was 102% sure i wasn’t). they set up my iv and the nurse, the surgeon, and the anesthesiologist all came by to talk to me for a few minutes. the anesthesiologist did the nerve block on my sides to help control pain. eventually they gave me some oxygen and rolled me into the OR, then knocked me out. last thing i remember is being in the OR and one of the nurses or the anesthesiologist talking to me, then i fell asleep and woke up in recovery. my surgery was scheduled for about 5.5 hours, but i was done in a shorter time than that because i’m pretty slim and the surgeon was able to work faster.

post-op: woke up in the recovery room INCREDIBLY tired. don’t remember a lot from the first night, just that was super exhausted and didn’t feel great. i was only supposed to spend one night at the hospital, but i ended up spending 2 nights because i still felt super nauseous and dizzy and the doctors didn’t want to send me home like that. spent most of the time sleeping or attempting to eat crackers bc i had no appetite at all.

recovery: honestly recovery has been kinda rough, especially the first few days. luckily i didn’t have a lot of pain, just discomfort and some muscle issues. i had very little appetite for the first couple days, but it started to come back about 3-4 days into recovery. i know anesthesia affects everyone differently so you might not go through that, but that was my experience. (this was my first time getting major surgery and going under anesthesia. turns out i do not react well to it).

i did have some minor complications—i developed a hematoma (a pocket of fluid under the skin) and had some extra bleeding around my drain site. and not really a complication but i have a LOT of bruising especially on my right side where the hematoma is. it’s not really painful, just kinda frustrating and disappointing that after waiting so long and spending so much money, it’s still not completely right. but i keep trying to remind myself that healing is a process and eventually i’ll be fully healed and so much happier.

the drains honestly aren’t as bad as i was expecting. if blood makes you queasy then it might be rough, but they’re actually not TOO terrible. mostly just inconvenient. i’ve been on around the clock painkillers that definitely helped keep the pain to a minimum, so it was more just figuring out how to make myself as comfortable as possible.

if at all possible, you definitely want to have someone around who’s going to help you with medicine schedules, drains, and just being generally comfortable moving around and sleeping. i definitely couldn’t do any part of recovery without having someone with me to help out.

post-op appointment: had my post-op appt one day shy of being a full week out of surgery. they checked over my chest and my drains. because of the complications with draining/bleeding on my right side, they weren’t able to take that drain out, but they did take the left one out so i’m good on that side. they also took the bolsters off my nipples and everything looked as it should. i got to see both my surgeon and her resident and i felt a lot less stressed and anxious after the appointment. getting the drain out was a weird sensation but it went super quickly and i barely felt a thing. definitely one of the easiest parts of recovery so far. i did tear up a little when i finally saw my post-op chest and i’m really really happy about it.

if you want to know any more about my personal experience/any advice i have feel free to send me an ask or a message about it. it’s now weird being the one who can talk about my top surgery experience and i want to be as helpful as i can!!

[somevestrit]

Currently losing my mind

So I live in this really old really not well kept up with duplex that’s got a lot of issues. Some are aesthetic like shoddy paint jobs, tons of wholes in the walls from the last tenant hanging stuff and neither them nor my landlord filling them in, bits of the popcorn ceiling in my bathroom and bedroom (it’s a one bedroom duplex) have fallen off (sometimes falling on me while I’m in bed asleep). But then other stuff way more important is at issue, like how there’s a leak that causes water to collect in the vent above my bed which causes that one (1) of three (3) patches to falll, the fact that I have two broken windows that don’t lock (one of which is large enough and low enough to the ground someone can easily climb in through the outside if they knew it was broken. I have done so a couple of times), also also the lock on my front door is broken so for about a year it didn’t lock and I had to rely entirely on the glass screen door for protection (I have since had a friend over who broke it in a different way so that it now just doesn’t open, which is annoying but more safe).

When I told my landlord about the door and the windows as they were more obvious danger issues, and the water damage at the time wasn’t nearly as bad, she told me she’d have to think about what to do. A week later she told me she was selling the house. I stayed during the selling of the house because the place was so run down there was no way my rent would go up that much, and I hoped whoever bought it would fix the obvious issues.

The person who bought it did not do an inspection and was very surprised and upset when I asked her if she was going to be fixing the broken door and window if I stayed. She said there was no way for her to start making a profit if she fixed them so she wouldn’t.

I started looking for somewhere safer to live, but pre-COVID rent was stupid high every where around me. I make well over minimum wage here, and I didn’t have any student loans and just paid basic bills and insurance, but even with that I couldn’t get approved for an apartment in an area that was run down or dangerous. And I desperately wanted a place that wasn’t falling apart around me at this point.

I went back to my landlord to ask if I could stay for now while I figured out my finances so I could afford to move out. At first she said it was fine, but after coming in for an inspection of some kind, she “found out” I had a cat and that they didn’t allow animals in their rentals. The first thing you see when you walk in through the side door is a huge litter box (I have two cats and my litter box comes with a lid I always put on when people are coming over so they don’t have to see anything going on in there). She had visited the house before she bought it. She knew I had at least one cat. She also knew I had been living there for about two years before she bought it so at this point if there was going to be any damage done from the cats, it was already done. So I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why she was suddenly bringing it up and telling me I had to get out.

Knowing it was legal for her to do this, I started desperately trying to figure something out. I was looking for rental houses in lower income areas and I had applied for an apartment at a place I had lived at before and the building was fairly new and fairly cheap, but places were going fast and there was a wait list. I told her I was waiting on the apartment, but a couple of months went by, including the projected date they’d have a space open for me, and I still didn’t have an apartment.

My landlord was ok with waiting at first, but then she had someone lined up to come in after me. There was one month where she was telling me I was selfish and putting everyone in a bad spot because I hadn’t moved out yet, that I was inconveniencing people. My last landlord (someone I used to be close to) had told this woman that I barely made any money, that I just didn’t have a lot saved up. My current landlord thought I was poor, but was trying to kick me out.

But wait, it gets worse.

Towards the end of that month I am half packed, getting ready to move into my friend’s place while I waited for an apartment to come available for me to move into or to find somewhere else because it was becoming obvious she wouldn’t let me stay another month even if I had nowhere to go. Towards the end of the month, however, she told me the people who were going to move in after me no longer needed the place, and I was welcome to stay if I wanted to.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but figured I should take her up on her offer because the rent would still be much cheaper at my current place and I could work on getting a better paying job in the mean time. She still refused the fix anything and was raising my rent $200, well more than the place was worth, but I didn’t have much better options.

For this some context on this next part, my neighbors on the other side of my duplex, who are some of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, one of them actually works at the store owned and run by the new landlord. So, sometimes when I’d pass them in the driveway or something I’d hear bits of information from them that my landlord hadn’t bothered to tell me.

Like how when it looked like I was moving out, my landlord had apparently told my neighbor that she was planning on replacing all of the windows and some of the doors. I was pissed, but at the time thought I’d be moving out soon so decided not to let it bother me too much.

Then, after we started working through me actually staying and her working on sending me a lease to sign for a year, there was a night when I was talking to my neighbors. I had the front door open as at this point my friend hadn’t rebroken it to never open, and my neighbors could see inside my house to the mess of packing I had done and had yet to undo because I wasn’t sure if my landlord was going to change her mind or not. My neighbors asked how the unpacking was going and told them that I hadn’t started yet because I wasn’t sure if I was actually going to get to stay. My neighbor waved her hand and said “Oh, her daughter bought a house so they don’t need it anymore.”

They told me about how my landlord’s daughter and her family were moving back to the area and needed a place to crash while they looked for a house to buy, and my landlord was planning on letting them use my place.

Based on that, apparently the only problem was that I was already here and wanting to stay, but the good news was that I didn’t have a lease so they could kick me out whenever they wanted to, all they needed was an excuse and having a pet worked. The could force me out so they didn’t have to share a house anymore.

This landlord thought that I was poor.

Livid, but feeling a bit more secure with a lease now and, again, not really having any better options I stayed. I stayed for a year and they came and looked at the water damage once but fixed nothing. Not the water damage, which the ceiling still gets wet every time it rains, not the windows, not the front door. Nothing.

Knowing I didn’t want to stay another year, I decided I was going to use my savings and buy a house. I had inherited quite a bit of money recently and decided I wasn’t going to deal with landlords anymore, that I was going to live somewhere where I knew if something was broken and was dangerous to me, it would get fixed. I let my landlord know that I would not be renewing the lease. She was fine with that. A few minutes later, she asked if she could send someone in a few days to measure some windows and doors.

The moment I told this woman I was leaving, she decided to fix the things that were putting my life in danger. The thing she refused to fix because “she wouldn’t make a profit off the house” if she did.

I don’t know how else to interpret that other than a big “fuck you” for not getting out of my home when she wanted me to because her daughter’s family needed a place to crash for a month while they bought a house. I don’t know how else to take this except punishment. My friend said she probably knew she couldn’t rent the place out again with it being the way it is. I don’t know how long she would have waited to fix anything, if she ever would have gotten around to it, if I resigned the lease.

Fuck. Landlords.

FUCK. LANDLORDS.

I am lucky that I had friends who were willing and able to take me in when it looked like I was about to be kicked out. I am lucky (in a way) that I happened to inherit enough money to help me get out of this situation. I’m so inexplicably angry over what she did to me, but I also can’t stop thinking about what might have happened if I didn’t have any of those fall backs, if I was as poor as she thought I was.

I repeat: FUCK LANDLORDS

[violetsystems]

#personal

My connection is super trashy this morning much like the cards I’ve been dealt in life these days.  It seems like my actual turn in whatever game is in play gets ignored more blatantly.  I found an old USB on the shelf cleaning a couple of days ago.  On it was a copy of Rise of Skywalker, Ninku, and Blade Runner.  I’ve watched Blade Runner a thousand times and never picked up on the chess game.  Bishop to King Seven.  A famous move I made the link to in a post here only countered by forking in tandem with the opposing knight.  The Immortal Game.  Sometimes if you really believed you were living in a simulation there’s magic moments such as that.  To me it’s really just the poetry of my life I live with nobody else gets but me.  I write about it sure.  I listen to Steely Dan all day too.  Nobody wants to hear from men right now I get it.  Especially Jerry Saltz and the neoliberal elite.  But that’s where I came from.  And judging from the dead responses on LinkedIn when it comes to networking, people would rather forget I even existed.  I feel like sometimes I get the hint and most of the last three months has been hobbling away from that.  My generation was the first generation after the boomers to be forgotten about.  We were in constant rebellion at the sheer audacity of how we were supposed to live.  Subsequently we were never really designed to rise up from under that thumb unless we were part of the family.  And the one thing I’ve learned from the tax hell I look at every day in my financial planning is that families definitely have more opportunities to avoid paying their fair share of taxes.  I’m an only child.  Never been married.  Never had children.  Mentored enough people to know I’d be a good father.  But overlooked, ridiculed and shunned enough to feel like I’m worthless.  Ironically for the first time in my life, I’m worth something on paper to a bank and a credit union.  Possibly to the companies I still hold equity in.  But for me it’s a very unique situation to be in.  Painted in a fucking corner with nobody to tell you what to do other than your better judgement.  I don’t wonder if my plan for the next year is right for the long run.  The long run has been just that.  Twenty years of my life just vanishing in a blink.  People eerily waiting for you get the hint.  Appalled at the audacity, like Terrell when Roy Batty confronts his maker.  Why can’t I live?  Everything out of Terrell’s mouth is an excuse.  Replicants were made to serve not made to last.  Every last inch of life has been accounted for and speculated against.  Terrell and the makers coo that you should feel great joy you have a purpose in their eyes.  And yet I’ve seen things you humans wouldn’t believe. I’ve seen everything in my old office disappear into the trash without any real confirmation.  I’ve seen friends I helped through thick and thin respond cold, callous and on some sort of script fearing legal action.  I’ve seen barely anyone but my neighbors between grocery drop offs.  And most likely they’re just nosy. 

Everyone makes sure they are in proximity of me when I crack and open up to the world.  This is still people’s assumption.  That I’m looking for new friends after all of this.  That my vulnerability can be further speculated on.  That I can still be trapped.  After sitting here with no closure listening to people’s problems but having my own go completely unnoticed.  Much like the replicants in Blade Runner, I have no prime directive other than to walk around and look cool in military upcycled gear.  I check my LinkedIn notifications to look for jobs.  There are some bright spots.  Mostly in China.  Everything else is a team of salesmen and recruiters looking for desperate contractors to overhaul IT departments they bought after laying off entire staff.  It’s the equivalent of getting back into the market like a scab.  All the salaries are the same for these kinds of jobs.  And it would be a lateral move with no pay increase.  These are for profit jobs.  I spent twenty years in a non profit with barely a cost of living raise.  That was the salary I achieved.  Nielsen Gallup polls and artistic corporate analysis has stolen everything from me, including my non profit salary and made it the new normal.  I was barely able to escape any sort of lifestyle creep including debt.  I chewed my way out of it alone.  Made to feel undesirable and worthless.  Received a few lump sums after the reduction of force.  And the markets are beating the war drum out there like the best thing to do is to put it all back in the hands of corporations that won’t look me in the eye to hire me.  All the while, people pretend that I’m not real enough to talk to.  I’m a ghost that conflicts the lies people hope no one uncovers.  An inconvenient truth to even myself.  And this is where the politics stop for me.  I have to live like everyone else.  America is on a collision course with everything these days.  Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a shining light of hope for getting out of the clutches of disturbing Christian White men who treat money like a whip.  Mitch McConnell is already dancing on her grave at this point.  These people have no shame.  Trying to push a supreme court candidate before the elections to further their political agenda.  An agenda that has nothing to do with respect for freedom unless it benefits their interests and way of life.  The American dream in this respect is and has always been a total lie.  To be betrayed by it and left for dead is something I have already learned from.  And my grand chess move is the same as it was a few weeks ago.  In the meantime I sold all my blizzard stock to buy IBM while they partner with London fashion week.  Even if the speculative value of my portfolio is trash, that trade confirmation went through loud and clear.  We all have different values in America for sure.  But the people who bought and lobbied their way into offices have little value to me.  

The way things look for me, I will be sitting out until February at the earliest.  I’ve budgeted myself out with health insurance.  The premiums are fucking outrageous and I had a chance to open enroll two weeks before I was let go.  I could have softened the financial burden if somebody would have just let me know.   If I would have had any lead time I would have made some different decisions.  But after twenty years, I was treated in a way that sent a real message.  One that nobody seems to be able to carry the weight of other than me.  It’s a unique situation.  Capitalists would love to shower praise on it as being the spirit of entrepreneurship.  But we all know that’s some Ayn Rand survival of the fittest bullshit.  There’s two choices.  You either believe the pyramid scheme and give up your money, power, and influence for the greater agenda.  Or you get ostracized.  Generation X in America was always an alienated group.  Maybe we were the first to realize how we were being scammed.  Some of us got dropped out of the nest and cracked.  The Kurt Kobains that succumbed to heroin and suicide.  The ground wasn’t very soft during those times.  A stable job seemed like an accomplishment.  Truthfully there are jobs out there that require over ten years of experience.  It’s a nice option to have.  A resume that actually looks like you’ve done something even if nobody wants to acknowledge you even existed.  But when I look around for answers in this city I find very little.  I have a safe place to stay for awhile without having to do much.  I got approved for a license for Ableton Live.  It’s the first time I’ve owned it.  I spent last night replacing the SSD in my laptop with a terabyte drive with faster read and write speeds.  With the ram upgrade I can do video and audio on the fly without blinking.  I write in my sleep and I communicate organically throughout all of this.  I’ve had to own my struggles and pain time and time again only to be buried.  And at this point, my friends down here realize my side of the story more than most.  And I’m sure it feels hurtful and hopeless to know what I’ve been through doesn’t mean all that much because I’m a Steely Dan fan.  The truth is people will grasp at straws to throw stones in a glass house.  Capitalism is a self destructive behavior.  There’s not enough to go around to feed the hungry shareholders, the investors, the financiers, the lawyers, the useless aspects of society speculate on paper currency and not human spirit.  We end up confronting it sooner or later.  And the answer we get is simple.  Bishop to King Seven is checkmate.  You have no more moves.  And I’m done hearing the excuses.  I have won the game.  I am simply waiting for your concession.  If I have to wait all winter, please know that I’ve burnt enough bridges to stay warm.  Hate to throw cold water on the plans to keep me obsolete.  My incept date passed a long time ago.  And while most of my past is lost in the rain, I am at least still human enough to cry.  Make no mistake I shed no tears for winning. <3 Tim

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

Always Waiting: The Cost of Never Being Done

Hi all,

I kept waiting for a time when I felt like I had time and energy to write and...surprise! It turns out that's not just around the corner when you have a chronic illness and are still working full time (not to mention trying to keep up a social life and maintain all your relationships). But I figure some information is better than none at all, so I'll get through what I can. 

You all remember (I think) that I went to Dana-Farber after my December CT scans showed significant growth of my primary tumor despite the metastatic sites holding steady. I came out of that meeting with two recommendations for clinical trials. One--my top pick--was being run out of Massachusetts General Hospital and Dana-Farber and involved an antibody-drug conjugate (IMMU-132) that has been shown to be super effective for triple-negative breast cancer but which got held up at the FDA approval stage. Doctors are pretty frustrated that the approval is still pending and that the only way to use it is on a trial, but there's hope that it might get approved in the next 6-9 months. The other is being run out of UPenn by the same doctor whose study I was on before and who I really like. It looks at the effect of chemo + an immunological agent vs. just chemo.

There were several reasons to prefer the MGH study (even though it would have necessitated traveling to Boston during the coldest months of the year), among them that I wouldn't have to endure chemotherapy as part of the trial. And it looked for a while as though I was going to be able to join it. It wasn't actively enrolling but there was a spot. I waited, in the days right before Christmas, to hear. And my doctors all worked hard, calling the PI and discussing the option of enrollment at either location. But it didn't work out. Another patient made exactly the same call I would have made--and I cannot fault them for that--and I am several places down on the waiting list. Spots open up when people leave the study, so presumably when their disease worsens or a better treatment option opens up. It only happens every couple of months. Doing the math, it seemed more likely that the drug would get approved by the FDA than that I would get to enroll.

I was pretty angry. And it was hard because there was no single person to be angry at. Not at my doctors, all of whom knew my preference, did all they could, and gave sincere apologies when it didn't work out. And not at the other patient who took the chance that I so hoped I'd be given. If anything, I was angry at the FDA for not approving the drug faster, or at whoever was funding the study for not allowing there to be more than 68 patients on it at any given time. The fact that groundbreaking, life-saving medical research is also a business constantly makes me angry. Sometimes it works in my favor (IMMU-132 will likely get fast-tracked on its second go through the FDA because someone will make money) and sometimes it doesn't (why fund more spots than you need on a clinical trial just because people want to be in it?).

So then there was more waiting. So much of having Stage 4 cancer is a waiting game. Waiting for promising new research directions. Waiting for that research to get funded. Waiting for those studies to enroll and complete. Waiting for FDA approval. Waiting for insurance approval. And, the biggest one by far, waiting to see if it works.

I was home for the holidays, not meant to see an oncologist until mid-January. A third option was proposed, which was staying on the study I had been doing with the PARP inhibitors but first doing a short course of radiation on the breast tumor. When I got home at New Year's I booked in to a radiology consultation, even though I felt a suspicion that it wasn't the best option. (Several oncologists told me that if the PARP inhibitors had stopped working on the initial tumor it was only a matter of time--and likely not much of it--before they stopped working on the metastatic sites too.) After spending nearly an hour with yet another very helpful doctor who had studied the whole history of my case (and a little bit of my research, once I told him what to Google) I saw that I was right. A tumor this size, he said, would only benefit from a pretty lengthy radiation course and we only had a grace period of 2 weeks for me to get back on the PARP study. He reminded me that it would be an option later and wishes me luck.

I'd like to pause here to do something I haven't done before and ask you all a favor. I understand exactly why this happens but please, to help me out, don't ask anymore about why I am not (yet) having surgery or radiation on the tumor. Yes, the primary tumor is the biggest and nastiest and pains me every day. You can be sure I'm also asking that question of my doctors, not only when there's a treatment change but when I tell them that it's hurting me. I know that it seems simplest to just cut it out (even if this means altering my body in a way that I am not eager to do) or try to shrink it. And I know that's why people ask. All the time. ALL the time. Unfortunately, it leaves me feeling defensive--do they not know that I have thought of this option every single day as I carry around the painful, swollen weight of a 6cm tumor?--and like I have to justify my decision. I imagine one or both those things will happen immediately. I have many (medical) reasons for not doing them yet. When I decide to do them, you will know and I will tell you more about why. But it would make me feel a lot better if I knew people weren't going to keep asking. Thank you.

Ok, back to what happened one I decided that radiation was out. Essentially, last week I officially consented to the study that's at Penn and that involves chemo. My first session will be on January 30th. I'll be going every 3 weeks. The agent I'm receiving is one of the oldest (carboplatin) and will be given in a higher dosage than when I went every week. This means it's likely to make me sicker. (The doctors did say that I'd feel worst on days 2-5 and better as the cycle wore on.) No one told me that people tolerate this one especially well and, having been so relatively lucky with side effects before, my worst-case-scenario brain assumes my luck will now be bad and that I will really struggle, lose all my hair, not be able to work, etc. Unhelpfully, although they can speak in averages, no one can predict how anyone will react to chemo. So just...wait. As usual.

To join the study, of course, there are a great many hoops all of which involve trips to Philly. I had a biopsy yesterday (Wednesday) and am spending tomorrow (Friday) getting CT and bone scans. There was an ongoing fight with my insurance company today when I got a phone call first thing in the morning telling me that they had canceled tomorrow's CTs because I didn't have authorization. Without authorization, no CT. Without a CT, no joining the study. Without joining the study, no starting chemo on time (lots of rearranging of my work and ride/support schedule). Lucky for me, my doctor's office was the one to do the calling and arguing. But it's frankly absurd to deny authorization for a CT scan to a documented Stage 4 cancer patient. I cannot even imagine what further information they would need for that one. And if I hadn't been joining a trial there would have been no rush and, likely, I would have been the one calling. The amount of admin involved in being chronically ill is frankly staggering. The end result, luckily, is that I am going in tomorrow.

And that's why I must get to bed. I know I make it sound like swinging by the hospital for a biopsy is no big deal - it's an outpatient procedure with only local anesthetic! I ate Shake Shack afterwards and went to work today! But, in fact, it's stressful to the body as well as the spirit to be on an operating table, numbed up with local anesthetic, and pierced in the lymph node or breast by an ultrasound-guided needle ten times (because you are doing so many studies and they all need research samples). The scans tomorrow will be easier - all I have to do is not eat beforehand, drink barium, lie in an x-ray contraption while having contrast dye injected through the port that's plumbed into my artery...then take a break before being injected with a radioactive tracer that will infuse my bones for a couple hours until I lie perfectly still and have them imaged. Easy, right?

I like to say that this stuff is no big deal--that it's just a lot of waiting in different places. And that's true, to an extent. The CTs don't hurt and they aren't physically demanding (although I'm not great at drinking that much barium milkshake that fast). The bone scan is kind of cool and I plan to wear my "Biohazard" t-shirt. But my normalization of the massive apparatus surrounding being ill and my incorporation of it into my everyday life does, I think, minimize the physical as well as emotional toll I pay each time I have a test or treatment. Not only are those reminders of the insidious disease that has taken so much of my life from my control--I'm not even thinking about that consciously most of the time--it's just all so relentless. There's always another call to make, appointment to keep, symptom to track, bill to pay, person to text or call. I am never, ever done.

On that last item, I do often feel burdened with guilt. I want support, but don't feel that I can always pay it back in the form of updates or thanks to those who so generously give it. But I do hope you all know that I'm here, appreciating each and every piece of it that I get. Social media may not be great for some things but it is wonderful for the small kindnesses that can buoy me up on a tougher day. This has been one, so I'm off to bed. But I send you gratitude and love.

Bex

[swirlyrobe]

Jul 28, 2015

Details

after that i ended up in a special ed school and thats when i started listening to rap with dipset and stealing yugioh cards for money and robitussin to get high. when i was 16 i only had a couple good friends and everybody else just avoided me caus they were scared i was going to fight them and one of them steve (who’s 3 years younger than me) had me meet his (at the time) ex gf one day and i ended up getting my thing sucked>.> yea for the first time and then we planned to lose our virginity the next week. she brought her friend and we had a threesome tho my drugs caught up with me because i was on probation for beating somebody up on the bus and i kept getting dirty urines for weed so i went to rehab a couple weeks after

i never really had gfs in highschool other than that, there was only 5 girls in my special ed school, i was friends with most of them but they used me for drugs. i went to community college right after highschool and made friends rapping tho immediately got involved in a small crime ring of stealing video games from stores, selling them to gamestop to make a couple hundred daily as well as smoking a lot more weed (while still on probation for another assault) that didnt catch up with me yet tho when i was 19 this girl sabrina added me on facebook and i really liked her, ended up meeting her at the mall it was a really sweet date(we had fun getting physical😄) she wasn’t like everybody else because she didnt try to be normal. i had court coming up though i ended up smoking pcp for the first time and had a psychotic break where i thought this girl was her (who wasnt) and got arrested for unlawful restraint (i thought she was bugging out and i didnt want to leave until i knew what was wrong). i went to jail and got released to rehab again.

when i got out of rehab i went to outpatient rehab (i was 20 now) and met a woman heather who was 33. we dated and she bought a ring for me 3 months after to propose which i accepted because i was desperate and i thought i loved her though she asked if i was attracted to her and i honestly said only her face and not her body so she broke up with me. after that i started smoking again until i started talking to this girl Haley who lived the city over from me, she said she wanted a brother yet i really started liking her when we talked. this is when i really started realizing i liked younger girls and she ended up admitting she had a bf months after and lied to both of us. (i made a lot of songs about her😔😪){&2020 update about haley: we moved on with our lives and had never met though I talked to her a little on Facebook this year and, thankfully I wasn't as enamored and clingy😪}

there's a couple dozen other girls i dated/talked to between that and then there was bella who heard my music on an old social site called PHEED and i thought she was beautiful so i told her that and we talked. she lived in texas but we had intense convos she was really smart, beautiful, funny and we swore we would be together though i had to go to rehab again(this time inpatient in New London where, I lived in a sober house & got a job after) because i violated probation yet i wanted to test if she’d stay with me so i didnt tell her i went. about 4 months later when i was getting out of rehab i talked to her again and she acted like everything was alright and she had moved to NY as well as gotten a license and really had her life together. she said she loved me and was gonna drive to see me in new london so, I waited an hour for her to come until I talked to her and she said because I "played" her she was playing me so, not coming 😢😞(this was in 2014)

So in 2015 I was clean about a year so, I applied & got accepted for McNally Smith college of music (to major in audio production) in st Paul Minnesota where I Was clean for months until (for some reason I forgot but, probably running around fast) I got kicked out of my weightlifting gym out there so I was upset and, found some people @ a park near downtown st Paul smoking weed which I got in on and, ten weeks later I saw someone with dreads buying a dutch in a bodega so, I asked if he knew where to get weed and: It turned out he was a dealer so I ended up buying lot's of weed and trading for studio time for him to record but, I got caught smoking sometimes in my dorm & because I got in arguments with students and staff at college so, they warned me if I got in ANY fight in or, outside of school I would be expelled & I DID get expelled; probably because of the fight where I sent that guy who hit my head with a brick to the hospital (which drew a LOT of attention and PROBABLY was on the news)

Though they said it was because I got in too many arguments and, smoked too much weed in my dorm...

So I moved back with my grandma later in 2015 where I was until she kicked me out for smoking weed and k2 so, I was homeless In which I slept under a blanket near the library and, behind a church in hamden until, the church let me live in their garage when it became winter so I stayed there until early 2016 where, I moved to a spot in Hamden off the bike trail in the woods where I started with a one person tent until I stole a 8 person tent from Walmart and, uused a shopping cart to carry a bed my friend gave away down the bike trail to my spot and late I stole a propane heater plus propane powered stove so I stole an empty propane can outside of krauzers and I kept paying $20 to get it filled at The car wash up the street so I used it to cook ramen and, oatmeal on my stove and power my heater in the winter and I finally got clean in August 2016 while STILL homeless then completed a course to get into CTWORKS which helped me get nice used suits and an interview g for the job I got at Chipotle in December 2016 while, still homeless 😪 I told them I still lived at my grandmas and took showers at my friend's house until I got a la fitness membership with my first paycheck which was actually through the woods near my tent so, I took showers there EVERY morning & worked out there in addition to, at my tent where I still had a barbell set from my grandmas and, then in the spring of 2017 I applied to and, got a landscaping job I saw on the ctworks job search online so I woke up at 5am EVERY morning with a battery powered alarm clock I stole from Walmart and, caught the first Whitney bus that went downtown at 5:30 and, then I took the next train around 5:45 to go to milford where, the landscaping base is so I ran there when I got to Milford around 6am to get there on time by 6:30-45

So I worked there while I was still homeless and, I got approved for shelter plus Care which some people That lived in the woods near me told me about and, I got my apartment with 2 jobs off the post road behind dunkin donuts in West Haven so, I took The bus up the post road to get to BOTH jobs until, I saw a moped for sale from east haven on Craigslist for$200 in mid spring of 2017 which, I rode to my jobs on until, I got a drivers permit (coincidentally on the day I heard my grandma was dying so, I Went to her house and Watched her die 😥

Then I took drivers ed classes;

Then I started getting driving lessons in late spring 2017 until I learned to drive in a couple months so, I took the drivers test in summer 2017 and, then took motorcycle classes at north haven gateway (where I ran into my dr's receptionist Alexandra ai had a crush on (who I even had written and recorded a song about) then, my mom helped me get my 250 ninja from new Haven power sports so: I drove that to my jobs until my crash on August 6th 2019 which, I don't remember but, I woke up at the residential physical rehab hospital Gaylord where : I leave weekly what happened was I hit an suv on mg way to work, had a right brain stroke & broken pelvic also my left side was paralyzed and got contractures (where my left arm, fingers and left got really curled up and difficult to straighten so I'm still working on walking again 😥

(I'm getting botox injections to help my left side straighten and , I'm able to my left leg and arm though, they're really bent and my fingers are too bent for me to move, use,or, hold anything😪

So now I am living at my aunts waiting to get another apartment through my insurance agency while, I still get votox every 2 months unrtil I hopefully gain control and use of my left side😪 &, the ability to walk again...

I went from being REAL STRONG to, being weak (though I'm ljfting more with my right arm with a dumbbell then I used to!)

Either way: I'm a survivor!

💪🏽😁👍🏼

[grootiez]

The Joys of Raising a Teenaged Groot- Chapter 61: Discussion

The next day, Groot had just got done his daily therapy session and had his feeding tube hooked up to his morning formula. Rocket and the other Guardians were bringing the teenager back to his room to relax for a little bit before he had to go to Calina for his speech therapy lesson when Azrik approached them in the hall.

“Hey, can I see you guys in the conference room?” Azrik beseeches the Guardians as Groot whines, clearly tired and in need of a nap before he went to Calina’s office to work on using his speech device.

“Yeah.” Rocket replies as the Guardians follow Groot’s aide to the conference room. “What’s this all about?”

“We’re going to start the process of letting Groot leave here and stay at home on the weekends on a trial basis.” Azrik stated as he held open the door for the Guardians to enter the conference room as Drax pushed Groot inside.

The Guardians took their seats in the big fluffy brown leather rolling chairs and Drax parked Groot in his chair before he took his seat next to him.

“Um, Drax, do you mind if you bring Groot to the middle?” Azrik asks as he gets the Hologram projector ready. “We’re going to be appealing to the insurance company for them to reinstate Groot’s life insurance plan and it would help if they saw him in person.”

Drax gets up and moves Groot to the center as the Guardians moved their chairs to make enough room for the teen. Once they were all settled, Azrik spoke again.

“Now, let me get a representative on the phone and we’ll get started.” Azrik says as he inputs the insurance company’s contact information to get them on the other end. Once he gets through the various prompts and is talking to a real person, her image appears on the hologram.

“Hello, I am Zorthir, and what are we discussing today?” The man introduces himself.

“Hi, Zorthir, I’m Azrik of Bright Horizons Child and Adolescent Rehabilitation Center, and I have a patient in my care here whose insurance policy was canceled and his family and I would like to reinstate it.” Azrik states as Zorthir begins typing on his computer.

“Alright, and what’s the patient’s name?” Zorthir asks as he brings up a database to search.

“His name is Groot.” Azrik answers.

“And what is Groot’s last name?” Zorthir responded as Azrik looks at Rocket.

Rocket panics. Groot hasn’t had the need to have a last name in his entire life. Even when Groot was taken from the Guardians’ custody and placed in an orphanage for a period of time while the dysfunctional family (mainly Rocket) fought their hardest to get Groot back, the sapling was referred to by a random string of letters and numbers rather than by a name. It was only when Rocket gained legal custody of the young Flora Colossus, that Groot was granted his name by the judge.

“Um, well, um...” Rocket was struggling to speak. “Well, um, you see, um-.”

Peter leaned over to the raccoon’s side. “Well, Rocket, isn’t Groot legally your son?”

“Yeah, but-.” Rocket responded as he looked at the humie.

“Well back on Earth, Groot would take up your last name.” Peter explains. “You are his father after all.”

This got Rocket thinking. He nodded as he said “Alright, Quill. I agree.” Rocket states as Zorthir types in the rest of Groot’s immediate information.

“Now, Azrik, I need to ask you a few questions before I’m able to proceed with Groot’s reinstatement.” Zorthir began. “The first one is I don’t have any of Groot’s medical history on file. Do you mind sending me that information?”

“I can and I’m doing that right now.” Azrik replies as he taps on his tablet and sends Groot’s medical information over to Zorthir.

“Okay, and I’m trying to look up Groot’s current insurance plan and it says that he’s deceased.” Zorthir glances at his computer as Rocket holds his emotions in. “Do you know what the story is with that and what’s his prognosis now?”

“Groot came to us from Zanara Trauma Center.” Azrik explains.

“Why did he end up there? That place is where they send the sickest of the sick, people who’ve been in traumatic accidents, or for those who need intensive medical treatments.” Zorthir questions.

“His father, Rocket, can explain what happened that night.” Azrik responds as Zorthir turns his attention towards the raccoon.

Rocket tries to hold back his emotions. Surely reliving and having to retell the worst night of both his and Groot’s lives was not going to be easy for him.

“I, um...” Rocket began, trying to not choke up. “Groot, um, Groot was in a bad mood that night and he went up to his room. Gammy went up to his room five minutes later to check on him and that’s when we discovered that Groot ran away from home by climbing out of his bedroom window. I then went out to look for him.”

The next part was hard for Rocket to talk about. “I-I finally found Groot... But be-before I could get to him...” Rocket choked up. He couldn’t finish the rest of that fateful night.

“It’s alright, Rocket.” Azrik consoles the raccoon as he dries his eyes with a tissue. “I can explain the rest of the story if need be.” He tells Zorthir.

“Go ahead.” Zorthir permits as he gestures.

“Well, Groot sustained multiple stab wounds, as well as a black eye and both of his legs and his left arm being broken as a result of the attack. Groot was in so much pain that by the time that he was done, he had to be put in a medically-induced coma and on life support.”

“Were there any further complications?” Zorthir asks as he wrote down everything that Azrik was telling him.

“Yes, while Groot was being put in the coma, he stopped breathing, going into cardiac arrest, and dying on the table. This all happened twice before he was stabilized.” Azrik stated. “His nurse said that he lost a lot of oxygen and could have suffered irreversible brain damage.”

“And what was his prognosis on that first night?” Zorthir questioned Azrik.

“Groot’s prognosis wasn’t good.” Azrik began. “His injuries were so severe that he wasn’t expected to live through the night. If he did survive, Groot would more than likely be severely brain damaged and bed ridden for the rest of his life, unable to interact with the people he’s around and having to be supported by machines for the rest of his life.”

“What is Groot’s prognosis now?” Zorthir queried.

“Well, as you can see, Groot is able to interact with everyone, he speaks using a speech device, and as you can see, he is not bedridden and can get around using a custom made manual wheelchair.” Azrik stated as Groot smiled.

“About when did Groot get his wheelchair?” Zorthir asked.

“He got it the first day that he started therapy here, so about a couple months ago.” Azrik answered.

“Now, that chair that he’s sitting in, that’s a custom-made one, correct?” Zorthir replied as he looked at his paperwork and Azrik nodded. “Those are expensive because of the modifications needed to make Groot comfortable in it and Groot’s insurance was cancelled when he obtained it because on his policy, he was listed as recently deceased, or else we would have covered the cost of it completely. Now, on the order form it lists a Mr. Peter J. Quill as the holder of the credit card that was used to pay for it-.”

“Wait a second...” Peter growls as he stands up and turns to Rocket, fists clinched. “You said that you paid for Groot’s chair yourself...” The humie was furious now as Rocket turned in his seat to hide a snicker. “Rocket...” The raccoon still couldn’t stop laughing to himself as Peter made him look at his angry face. “You stupid ball of fur and trash, what the HELL are you laughing at?”

“Just an idiot who can’t even keep an eye on his own wallet.” Rocket snickers as Quill reaches over to slap the rodent.

“Boys, boys!” Gamora scolds the two as Rocket hisses at Peter, baring his teeth in a defensive manner. “I’m sorry for their behavior, but these two numbskulls are always bickering like an old married couple.”

“Hey!” Rocket and Peter chimed in at the same time. “No we don’t! I would never-.” They both finish in unison together as they slowly turned to look at each other.

“Shut up, Star-Munch!” Rocket snarls as he leans against his chair’s armrest, ready to pounce on Peter. “Everyone here knows that you waste money on useless junk anyways, so I made you buy something that’ll benefit somebody else than you.” He then looks at Peter to apologize. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you first before I maxed out your credit card...”

Before Peter could say anything, Zorthir responds. “Since Groot clearly needs his chair to get around, I will approve it getting covered by insurance, which reminds me, Azrik, can you please send me all of his medical records and diagnoses?”

Azrik swipes his finger across the holographic pad in his hands. “Just did.” He says as Zorthir hears a notification ding on his end and he read the files Azrik sent him.

“Alright. I’ll get Groot re-enrolled into our system on his original policy.” Zorthir informs the Guardians. “Luckily, there’s a few things his policy covers the cost on.”

“Like what?” Gamora questions.

“For starters, all of Groot’s daily and specialty medications, as well as his formula would be covered.” Zorthir began. “It also says on his records that he uses a communication device to talk. About how long has he had it?”

“He got it the day before he got his wheelchair, so at least for a few months now.” Azrik replies. “And he’s gotten better and better with using it to communicate.”

“Alright. When I reactivate Groot’s insurance plan, Rocket, since you’re his primary legal guardian and caregiver, you will be reimbursed for the amount of the wheelchair and his talker.” Peter stood up from his seat. “Wait a minute! Rocket stole MY money FROM MY bank account! So shouldn’t it be ME who get reimbursed from the insurance company?!?!”

“I’m sorry, but as he is listed as the only parent or legal guardian, as well as Groot’s primary caregiver, Rocket is the only person entitled to any monetary compensation from Groot’s insurance policy due to his medical needs.” Zorthir explains as Rocket holds one of his paws up to say something.

“Wait a minute.” Rocket interrupts. “Quill, I’m sorry that I haven’t been truthful with ya from the day we first met.” He apologizes as Peter scoffs, knowing that the raccoon is secretly trying to finagle something that Peter would have to pay him back with later. “I’m sorry that I went behind your back and stole your credit card in order to pay for Groot’s chair. I was greedy and didn’t want to pay for it myself. So how about I pay you back the full amount and... here.” The raccoon gets out his holographic currency exchanger and transfers the appropriate amount of Units to Peter.

Peter was dumbfounded by the gesture as he got out his own currency exchanger and saw the Units were in fact back in to his banking account.

“Wow, Rocket, uh, thanks.” Peter’s gratitude is apparent as Rocket just ignores it and shrugs it off.

“Now, back to the situation at hand, are there any further things that need to be discussed?” Zorthir questions.

“Yes, there are a couple of things that we’re looking into for Groot. The first thing is, he’s made tremendous strides in his recovery and we’re thinking about letting him go home for the weekends and come back here for the weekdays so that we can continue his care and various therapies that he needs.” Azrik stated as Groot looked at and smiled at Rocket.

“That would be a good step in his recovery and I’m in agreement with it.” Zorthir then cleared his throat. “But, your house will need to be evaluated and certain modifications made in order for it to be accessible for Groot. Now, we would cover any and all necessary renovations and all of the required equipment, but it’ll need to be inspected by a certified contractor and approved before Groot could go home.”

“Okay, we agree with all of that. Is there anything else that Groot would need when he comes home?” Gamora inquired.

“Yes. Because of Groot’s various conditions, he will need a personal care nurse to take care of him, give him his medications, and monitor his progress over the weekend.” Zorthir explains. “After that, if things improve we can hopefully increase the time that he’s home to a week at a time. I would expect all of you to pay attention to Groot's needs and help out wherever possible.”He implores the Guardians as they all agree.

Zorthir then shuffles the various amounts of paperwork on his desk. “Okay, then. I think that concludes our meeting.” He declares as he begins to stand up as Groot taps Azrik’s shoulder.

“Wait, there’s actually something that we need to mention.” Azrik says as Zorthir sat back down. “A few days ago, Groot got the opportunity to test out and drive a power wheelchair. He did so well with it, we decided that he would be a good candidate to get one of his own, fully customized to his needs.” Azrik explains as he sends over a copy of the order form for the chair in question. “The thing is, Groot would need all of the specialized features like the electric tilt, recline, powered leg rests, and elevated seat in order to be completely comfortable. He would also need things like the attendant control in case he can’t drive the chair himself and one of his family members need to do it for him.”

Zorthir looks at the order form intently. “I see. A customized wheelchair like this isn’t exactly cheap and can run in the range of 30-40 thousand Units. Thankfully, this is the kind of thing that Groot’s newly reactivated insurance plan would cover the complete cost on. So good news, Groot! You’ll be getting your new wheelchair when it’s ready.” He declares as he signed off on the form as excited shouts could be heard coming from Groot as Azrik ended the conference.

After about fifteen more minutes of talking between Azrik and the Guardians, they left the conference room so that Groot could continue on with his day. The excitement couldn’t be contained within Groot as the Guardians made their way back to the teenager’s room for a well-deserved celebration. ———————————————————————————————

@trashpandaorigins @madness-on-the-milano @madcatz6277 @blaketoziers @butterflyinthewell @canuckscot @i-sudoku @janetgenea @lothirielswanmarvel @netbug009 @pineapple-crow @rocket-roquill-raccoon @rocket-ringtail-raccoon @rr4901 @sesshouki @skarabrae-stone @thatcrappypuppy @vic394 @woozletania @whoop-whoop-grocket———————————————————————————————

Read on Ao3.

[bigskydreaming]

Btw, for those who’ve been asking, just a quick update on the jaw sitch:

I had that last appointment on Thursday and it went really, even surprisingly well? Like, better news than even she’d hoped for. We were crossing our fingers that the last CT scan (the one to map exact dimensions we’d need the prosthetic to be) would match up with a premade prosthetic so we wouldn’t have to wait to order a custom made and could jump straight to trying to expedite the surgery. 

Turns out I don’t actually need a prosthetic at all. The top of my jawbone, the condyle, which everyone thought was completely destroyed from all the previous scans and was part of what had to be replaced, its actually still there and largely intact. It wasn’t snapped off or eroded away like they’d been thinking, it actually just got bent enough at the top of it that somehow it slipped and got shoved up....underneath my skull, or behind my skull, I’m honestly not sure what the right word is to describe it, because of the angles/dimensions involved. The reason they could only see it with this last scan and not any of the others is this last scan like....looked through the back of my skull essentially, and showed the inside curvature of the side of the skull that’s where all the Drama is. And that’s where they saw, oh hey, he’s still got an intact condyle, its just been stuck inside/under/behind his skull this whole time instead of resting in the joint where its supposed to be and allowing for proper opening and closing. And as it got worse and worse this past year and a half, it wasn’t because I was constantly grinding down on what was left of the bone and wearing it more and more away....it was that it was actually constantly shoving up more inside my skull, day by day. So, still not fun, just a different kind of suck than they thought, lol.

I’m actually a little bit miffed by the reveal, not gonna lie, because like....it literally is EXACTLY what I’d been saying it felt like the problem was to me. For a year and a half. From the very start. From the very first time I went to the ER after it first snapped or slipped out of place or whateverthefuck, the very first doctor I met with, I literally described it as feeling like my jawbone got stuck up under or behind my skull and couldnt get loose or descend properly. And they were like nah, that’s not a thing, must be TMJ. And literally every other doctor I went to since then (including this one), I told each and every one of them the same exact thing but noooooooooo, why listen to the dude whose body it literally is lol why would he know what it feels like is the problem. Lmao. Ah well. Doesn’t change anything at this point and not worth souring my relationship with this doctor since at least she’s getting results for me and is easy enough to work with and way better than that other one I was going to before. But still. Annoying. It gives me no pleasure to be like ‘ugh I was right, I told you all’ because like, lol I don’t need the fucking ego boost, I would have much rather taken the ‘get started fixing all this a year earlier than it took to find the solution and thus spare myself a lot of time, money, aggravation and oh yeah pain’ option. BUT OH WELL.

Anyway. So this changes things a little but not a done. The general course of treatment is still the same. They still have to do the exact same surgery, only now instead of opening me up and putting in a new prosthetic joint, they’ll open me up, cut off the bottom part of my jaw so that they can then basically dig out the upper part from where its stuck behind/under/inside my skull, do something *mutters vague medical-ese in place of the details I glazed over here and didn’t totally catch look I am still very sleep deprived all the time*, then manually reset the condyle/top of the jawbone in the joint they restore via the vague medical-ese mumble mumble stuff, manually realign the whole rest of my lower jaw and then screw the bottom and top pieces of jawbone back together with like a plate or something. 

But now at least we don’t have to wait for a prosthetic, or pay for one, so that’s at least a couple thousand dollars cheaper though the rest of the surgery is still the same as before,like 20K out of pocket or thereabouts. And its always better when they can use/salvage your natural body instead of having to use prosthetics or insert foreign material - theoretically, this means I should heal faster, regain more or fuller function of my whole jaw, and there’s less risk of nerve damage since all the muscles and everything are still attached to the jaw and just unable to do their job because its literally just stuck, but again its always better if like, they don’t have to try and reattach or reintegrate muscles and all that around a brand new piece of bone or prosthetic that they place in there for the first time.

So its literally just a waiting game now? She sent off her updated notes and case file to my insurance company now to try and expedite getting a greenlight on the surgery. It only takes two weeks to book the surgery and get into an OR somewhere, and the only thing we’re waiting for now is payment, basically. As soon as I can afford the surgery, we can schedule it, and two weeks later, bam. So fingers crossed that my insurance company will approve it - she feels pretty confident they will, because she thinks she’s made more than enough argument and provided plenty of documentation to prove its an absolute medical necessity (hahahahaha just let them try and argue w/me about that, I WILL DEVOUR THEIR ENTIRE SOULS, MY JAW IS 90% UNHINGED ALREADY, IT’LL BE EASY).

So mostly its just a matter of how long it takes to get an answer from them, and if they’ll approve the whole thing or only part of it, and if the latter, how long it’ll take me to raise the rest. She said give it a week before I start calling the insurance company directly myself, to nag them, lol. But that her best guess is it’ll probably be around three weeks or so to hear back, for something like this.

So, fingers crossed that I get a quick answer and a good one in terms of paying at least most of the surgery. And then....blessed scalpel and morphine drip. *weeps in I Have Never Been So Excited To Be Cut Open On A Table Like A Fish, Seriously, What A Weird Thing To Have Be Like Christmas and My Birthday and Some Other Random Assortments of Holidays Used As An Excuse for Gift-Giving*

She’s planning on doing the surgery on a Saturday as its usually easier to book an OR on the weekend, and the surgery itself should only take a day and I shouldn’t need to stay overnight after all. BUT I still need to figure out finding some way to stay with someone for the ten days after the surgery though, which - no idea how to go about that just yet lol, working on it. But my jaw’ll have to be wired shut for the ten days post surgery, liquid diet only, so she was like “LOL yeah no, you should definitely not count on being able to talk for the first couple weeks of recovery. Or stand up really. Or like, get out of bed at all pretty much. As much as it sucks right now, its gonna suck even more then, you will definitely hate everything and it’ll hurt even more before it gets better, BUT then it’ll actually get better. Finally.” Like, I’m paraphrasing, but that was my takeaway, lol. Yay. Things to look forward, much excitement, can’t wait.

Nah but like, I will literally put up with anything at this point in order for it to be over, and after that, I shouldn’t need more than a month or two of physical therapy before I have full function of my jaw back. But she thinks it’ll be if not quite as good as new, at least close enough for there not to be much difference. She said she sees no reason for there to be any lingering or residual pain or nerve issues or vertigo once my recovery period is over, and my face should look pretty much the same as it did before all this started then. Said there’s a slight possibility, depending on certain things with how the surgery goes, that my chin might end up a little more recessed than it had been originally, but not enough that it’d be especially noticeable - if anything, it probably would only show as different from before when looked at in profile, from a side view. 

LOL, she was like, there is an additional procedure I can do right then and there while we already have you under, that’ll bring your chin forward and compensate for any differences there and its easiest to do it right at the same time as everything else. But that’s essentially just a cosmetic procedure, so your insurance likely wouldn’t pay for that. And I was like okay, well just so I know, how much is that procedure? And she’s like, oh, 8K. And I was all HAHAHAHAHAHA, doc, you funny. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m vain and shallow, but I’m cheaper and broker than I am vain and shallow, so that’s gonna be a hard pass from me. I’ll stick to just overcompensating with my wit and dazzling personality, mmkay.

LOL. Anyway, so that’s where things stand right now, just....waiting. And hoping. And crossing fingers. And trying not to fall into my usual trap of assuming this slight uptick of good or positive news means IMPENDING DOOM elsewhere. Like, there is still a slight risk of nerve damage with the surgery itself, not the potential for full face paralysis that the other doc was saying might happen, she’s not worried about that at all, but she did warn that in like 10-20% of cases with this surgery, there’s a chance of nicking a sensory nerve that means like, ending up with your face numb around the chin and above and around your mouth, where you basically can’t feel much in those areas. Sometimes that lasts for a month or two, and occasionally there are some people who never regain sensation there, but she stressed that its not a huge risk, again only 10-20% of the time, but she did want to make sure I was aware. Course, my cynical ass is like OKAY BUT YOU UNDERESTIMATE HOW MUCH THE UNIVERSE LIKES TO MAKE EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE LINE UP WITH EXTREMELY LONG ODDS AND UNLIKELY POSSIBILITIES, WHY WOULD YOU TEMPT FATE WITH A DIRECT CHALLENGE LIKE THAT, DO YOU HATE ME, DO YOU WANT ME TO DIE????

LOL. Look I’m a Melodramatic Melvin, this is canon. And in the immortal words of Ugh Stiles, I’m almost to the point of no longer being able to ‘milk this anymore’ so I gotta cram my last good angsts in while I still can, y’know? Nah, but srsly, I’m gonna try and not stress about that too much because she said there’s literally nothing I or she can do to minimize that risk, it just is what it is, and the one thing I do know is that my body/brain tends to be highly suggestible and psychosomatism tends to play a huge role in my health and how well or quickly or thoroughly I bounce back from stuff. So. Trying to do the whole positive thoughts, eyes on the prize, Speak Only Good Stuff Into Existence until I’m out the other side. Like, take it for granted that the odds aren’t gonna fuck me this time so I don’t end up accidentally stressing myself into the perfect position for my body to be like Screw You Baby, One More Time.

I mean, we’ll see how well that goes, lol, but you know. Goals.

[artistlove17]

YES!!!

My fiance and I got approved for food stamps and assistance today!! And I know, I know "get a job, you don't have kids and you're young, you shouldn't be relying on the government."

We've been trying... seriously. We're staying with my grandfather right now because we are homeless after everything with my landlord and Nana a few months ago. And we have a shitty, broken down car that barely makes it around town... so everything has been really fucked up and hard. But my Aunt suggested that we apply for SNAP until we get a job because we have NO food... I mean literally all we have right now is half a gallon of milk, a carton of eggs and a bag of rice and a couple cans of green beans. We are on our last leg right now and struggling really fucking hard.

We've applied to 2 places and haven't heard anything back. And the third place told us that they wouldn't know they had any jobs for 2 more weeks and they'd call us back.... so we have really been at a loss for what to do. And we are out of time with waiting.

So we applied for assistance today and we got it! So in a week we should get our card and be able to finally get some groceries!! Ya'll have no idea how excited I am to actually have some real food... it's fucking pitiful. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

But!! The best part is... they'll help us look for a job!! Our case worker is going to meet with us in probably about 10 days (I believe is what she said) and she'll give us a list of places that have sent her applications and we can fill out applications through them and she will send them back for us. Her doing this means we have a MUCH MUCH higher chance of getting a job, and quickly!!! So hopefully in a couple weeks we'll have new jobs and actually get back on our fucking feet!!!!!

Ugh. I'm so glad we went today and are now heading in the right direction! I've been trying so hard and my dad cut me off and said he wasn't helping me anymore, but then bitched me out because I don't have a job yet. Which didn't make any sense because how the hell was I supposed to get a job without a reliable car or gas money... and he cut me off so...??? Also how the fuck would you expect me to work with no food... I've done that shit before and made myself so sick I legit thought I might die. I seriously thought about going to the hospital and I hate hospitals... I don't ever want to feel like that again... that shit was bad.

My dad is a whole other problem... his only concern right now is my pregnant 17 year old stepsister and her baby, so I'm just a fucking nuisance to him. He keeps bitching and telling me to get a job, but hasn't ONCE offered to help me or sent me anything about places even hiring! Even though I've literally asked for his help several fucking times and he says he will... but he NEVER DOES. I never hear anything back until he has to pay for something else and wants to bitch at me again. He pays my car insurance and for my storage unit... but he pays for my stepsiblings insurances as well and they live with him!! He's constantly taking them out to do stuff (movie theater, fast food, trips, etc.) and keeps groceries in the house... but he acts like him doing 2 simple things to help me out right now (when I most fucking need it) is just too much to ask!? And I'm his only biological fucking kid... but I get treated like I don't belong and I'm just a problem to him.

I'm just fucking sick of everything and so damn ready to have a job and get my own place again. And as soon as I get stable again I'm done with my dad. I'm telling him to stop paying for shit for me and I'll deal with it myself, I'm tired of the guilt tripping. You can't go blow $400 on your new family but then tell me that you can't give me $20 to get something to eat or to put gas in my car... fuck that bullshit. He just doesn't give a fuck about me or want to do anything for me. He never has. He left my mom and I to be homeless before... he literally refused to take me in when my mom became homeless. I had to stay with her at her friends house and watch my mom sleep on their couch while I shared bunk beds with their son. My mom hated it and worked herself to death to get us out of that situation while all my dad did was sit in his 3 bedroom house and smoke pot with his buddies. He would hardly take me on the weekends, let alone take care of me for a month or two.

I'm just glad to finally have some real help and hopeful that things will get better. And I'm glad I didn't need his help to do it. ✌

[ahnsael]

Two years later, the last physical remnant of the trouble I got into is going away tomorrow.

The DMV removed the restriction from my license today (it was a three hour wait, which I didn’t expect going in the middle of the week at opening time, but I’m glad I got it done -- I could have done it a month ago but was nervous about the process of getting these last loose ends tied), and after a couple games of phone tag between the manufacturer of the device and the auto shop which services it to finalize approval on both of their ends, tomorrow I get the ignition interlock removed from my car.

Now there’s just the SR-22 insurance for two more years before I can go back to regular insurance (but the SR-22 isn’t much more expensive than the regular version anyway).

We have a guy at work who’s mind isn’t in it lately. Because he just his FOURTH DUI. His third was a legal battle (three in seven years becomes a felony and involves prison time and there was a question as to whether it was from the occurrence of the first one or the sentencing and the court gave him the benefit of the doubt but then he did it AGAIN two months later). I don’t see how you don’t learn your lesson after the first one. And even if not then, the punishment is more severe for subsequent instances. So he’s looking at a lengthy prison sentence this time.

I got 48 hours. Well, technically 62 days, but 60 days were suspended pending my completion of other court-ordered responsibilities like both group and individual counseling, DUI school, a victim’s impact panel (in which victims of crashes caused by drunk drivers told their stories -- including some VERY graphic images), being under the watch of “alternative sentencing” for a year (basically that meant zero drinking, random tests to see whether I had had anything to drink, home visits to see if I had any alcohol around, all of which punishable by either a day in jail or kicking in the entire 60-day suspended sentence), having an interlock installed in ANY car I might drive for a year after reinstating my license (I only drive my own so I only needed the one, at $67 per month which from what I’m told is a pretty good price; I’ll have to pay “$50-$60 or somewhere around there, I’m not entirely sure” tomorrow when I get it removed but it SUCKS for people with no credit/debit card because it’s literally the ONLY way you’re allowed to pay, keeping low-income people without a card from being able to fulfill that obligation and that order does NOT expire a year from sentencing, it expires one year FROM WHEN YOU REINSTATE YOUR LICENSE and you can’t reinstate your license until you have the device installed -- I had to show the DMV the installation paperwork last year), and SR-22 insurance (including Statement of financial Responsibility -- that’s the SR part) for three years.

At one point as I talked to the (actually very nice) DMV lady today she asked whether I still had the device installed or whether it had already been removed. She framed it as a way to say “Show them this temporary license which shows no restriction and they’ll be able to remove it” but I’m guessing it was a “gotcha” question, as removing it before having the restriction removed from my license would have violated the restriction of my license. But I bet they get people saying “My year was up last week so I had it removed,” therefore getting themselves in more trouble (I was actually half-expecting them to want to see it in my car, maybe punch some buttons and get my latest statistics as far as “has he had any violations since the last time he had it serviced and we were sent his data?” but that didn’t happen...I also had the original installation paperwork and the original court order in my jacket pocket just in case, since I had to show both when I reinstated my license, even though they scanned them at the time -- when I first reinstated my license they forgot the restriction so I had to go back and have them put it on). I’m also wondering whether the three-hour wait was intentional, since most people are there for renewals or new licenses or to change their address or register a vehicle, and those of us in the “C” group broke the law, which was why we were there. Kind of makes me feel like they were testing our patience to see if we gave them attitude about seeing SO MANY people who got there after us called first. But I was as nice to the DMV lady as I would have been had I waited 10 minutes, and by the end the lady next to her behind the counter was complimenting my Genie tie (Genie from Aladdin -- I went there straight from work this morning so I was still dressed up from work).

An interesting aside...I shave my head, but have a beard. I asked the lady, pointing to the gray under my chin, “At what point to I change my official hair color to gray?” (the color listed on the original police report). She said it was basically up to me, and that I could even put “bald” if I wanted to since I shave my head, but sometimes the hair grows out a bit between shavings and I want to make sure I’m in compliance. But I pointed to my eyebrows as evidence of the “brown” that I put down, and she accepted that. She said switching to “gray” is pretty much up to me as long as SOME of the original color remains, but then we shared a laugh about people with completely gray hair who put down “black” as their hair color (that was when I pointed out my non-graying eyebrows as evidence that while I do have some gray in there, it still is mostly brown).

She also laughed when I said the only “stat” that had changed in the past 13 months since reinstating my license was my weight, which I upped by 15 pounds for honesty’s sake. She said she NEVER would have done that, but then I said that I used to be about 35 pounds more than I am now, so I’m pretty good with where I’m at and would rather be accurate on a REAL ID-compliant license -- even though weight fluctuates, the weight I put is my average these days.

And after I got a little worried about phone battery after playing cell phone games for an hour, I then spent the next two hours *almost* finishing Rolly Crump’s book “It’s Kind of a Cute Story,” which I hadn’t picked up in so long that the Kindle app had updated and completely forgotten where I had left off (I only realized that I read two chapters that I had already read when I came upon a section that I had highlighted). I’m about halfway through the last chapter now. The Kindle app takes a LOT less battery than playing a game that has to communicate with the internet (especially since the DMV’s WiFi was worse than Disneyland’s as far as reliability, which is kind of saying a lot).

But anyway, other than the (only slightly) higher insurance bill for the next two years, all of this kerfuffle will be behind me tomorrow. No more breathing into my car before I can start it. No more worrying that “I bartended this morning, and I spilled some on my pants...will the interlock pick that up and fail me? (it happened a couple times, as did using an alcohol-based window de-icer this winter and then having the fumes from the can in the car when I tried to start it; I learned to leave the can outside the car after using it, but there are “rolling tests” where they are trying to see if you drank after starting the car and have six minutes to provide a passing same of breath and so I would have to pull over, remove the can, and then re-take the test to make sure I didn’t get COMPLETELY locked out -- I did have violations based on this, but found out a week ago when I emailed the DMV that it takes four consecutive months of such violations for the terms of the interlock to be extended, even if I had to air out my car before I could successfully start my car at the time).

After those violations, I was worried my time was going to be extended, so I was SO happy to receive a reply from the DMV last week telling me that they had looked at my records, and I was good to get the restriction removed. I had thought ANY violation would result in “more time with this thing in my car.”

And on the WAY to the DMV...I ran into a problem I’ve run into a couple times in the past couple months.

Ever since getting the interlock serviced in December, I’ve had issues with it rebooting itself.

Now, if you turn off the car with a pending test, that’s another violation. And the thing would tell me to breathe into it (it’s actually more throat-humming with this device -- it prevents someone taking a lungful of fresh air and then breathing in to beat it; humming in your throat means air from INSIDE of you is going through and it can detect alcohol you maybe thought you could hide).

So there have been times I’ve driven to work, parked, and just before turning off my car the interlock would ask for a “rolling test.” I couldn’t just turn my car off. That would be a violation, which the DMV would hear about. But if I picked the device up and it went blank as I blew into it, then said “Initializing,” I learned NOT to turn the car off (the hard way, when I got a violation for it). Just sit there in the parking spot, engine running, and wait for it to ask for a test again.

On my way to the DMV today, though, the device wanted a “rolling test.” Which I expected. The first “rolling test” can be 5-10 minutes after starting the car, and subsequent tests come every 45 minutes to an hour (and you have six minutes to provide a breath sample before you are locked out). When I drove to Disneyland in September, I can’t even guess as to how many tests I had to take as I drove, to make sure I was still sober.

But today, it asked me to re-test. I did. I heard the tell-tale “click” by my left knee that tells me it just sent a signal to the car that it’s okay to restart if I shut it down. But instead of “PASS” on the screen, the screen was blank. Then it said “initializing.” Then it asked me to test again with a beep. I did so. This time, it not only made the click on my ignition switch to turn it on, but said “PASS” -- fir about a half-second before going back to “INITIALIZING.”

When it came back up, I only had two minutes and 30 seconds left to provide a sample. I thought, “If this thing keeps resetting itself, I’m going to get a violation on the way to the DMV for permission to remove this.”

Fortunately, on the third try, the test was passed WITHOUT the device restarting itself (I am SO glad to get rid of this thing because it’s been doing this a lot for the past two months and while I’m passing the tests, it doesn’t always KNOW that I pass the tests before rebooting itself).

But at 10:00am tomorrow, I get this thing OUT of my car. If it’s anything like the installation, I’ll be there for about an hour. Which will still beat my wait time at the DMV today. I’ll probably finish Rolly Crump’s book and then either play some video games on my phone or start something new to read, like the continuations of the book which I’ve already bought.

But video games are more likely -- this shop, as I’ve seen personally and heard from other customers, does not only good work, but QUICK work, so I don’t want to get too into reading and then be disappointed when they have it done.