#which i guess maybe means i’m getting better since for so long i simply haven’t had the energy to care | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jodilin65 · 1 year ago

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MONDAY, OCTOBER 30, 2023 On the way to the cardiologist and very tired. Yeah, there’s nothing like being psychic and having a nightmare of being swept off a rocky cliff and into the ocean below by a giant wave and knowing it means trouble lies ahead. It’s just a matter of waiting to find out what it is. It can’t be the mamo, though, because Galileo hasn’t gotten my results yet. Had anything suspicious shown up, they’d know it by now. Despite my family history, I can’t believe anything is up with my heart.

The honker returned just after midnight on the 29th. I saw the water company turning his water on a couple of days before, so I knew I wasn’t going to make it until November without him. Funny, how it’s returning earlier and earlier each year. In 2021 it was on November 7th. Last year was on Halloween. Now it’s the 29th. I’m guessing it will stay longer as well. Last year it only stayed a day later than the year before but I don’t think it was by choice. I know he wanted to stay longer, but something came up at home.

I learned that Canadians don’t need to apply for citizenship or even have a visa, but they can only stay for 6 months at a time. Sadly, jail taught me just how long half a year really is.

For now, I just hope he doesn’t ride more now that he’s single. Keri even left the park group, so I saw, and he only has one of the dogs from what I can tell. I’m hoping he might not ride more often simply because most of the time he would take off in the truck in the past, it was by himself and he could have taken the motorcycle those times. Hopefully, he’ll give me “permission” to get out of the doghouse soon. Really, really hate having to be put out in my own home so someone else can have fun. At least he goes home for Christmas. The thing is that half of the time he turns the damn thing on, it’s to move it. Despite how common they are here, if you look at all the carports in the park, very few of them have motorcycles. So it’s just my shit luck to get near not one but two of them.

Tom power-washed the car so it looks a lot nicer. Just wish it wasn’t 85 degrees out today. The heat doesn’t help being so exhausted and with my heart a little racy. I just hope that the doctor has my echocardiogram results.

My weight mostly reset itself as it usually does. I can tell my TSH is dropping cause I’m not so cold and my HR is a little higher. Plus, I had a little more energy over the weekend. Today I’m just exhausted due to the nightmare and waking up a lot.

My lower back has been hurting like crazy but I think it’s the mattress and not the Losartan. We’re gonna flip the mattress again soon. Still won’t give me much support either way. My spine doesn’t feel like it’s aligned well on this thing. That’s part of why I want to eventually get a high-end airbed. Something that doesn’t have foam that breaks down over time.

I don’t know how I haven’t heard this story before, since it happened while we were married. Maybe I just don’t remember or didn’t care but Mary (Miss Perfect) had chronic fatigue, which I still think I have if nothing’s up with my heart, and a CPAP doesn’t help if I ever get one. I guess one symptom is regular back pain. She had quite a bit of that and they did X-rays and sent her to a chiropractor, but nothing helped. So then they gave her antidepressants, which is how they treat chronic fatigue and her back pain disappeared.

But did her energy levels ever improve? I asked Tom. He said he doesn’t remember her mentioning that either way. Just that she thought she was tired and her back hurt because of work.

Leaving the cardiologist now. I like her way better than the endo. She’s from here and therefore with an accent I can understand. She spoke loud and clear and enough to inform me of things I needed to know, but not so much that I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Her nurse did an EKG which looked great but that was just a 10-second thing.

She was just as disappointed as I was that the echocardiogram results hadn’t been forwarded to her. In this digital age, there’s just no excuse for that. Galileo should have that and my mammogram by now. This is ridiculous, but as usual, it’s going to fall on us to do someone else’s job for them because we’re going to have to call the MRI place and get them ourselves. This is why we made a point of scheduling the visit with her after the echocardiogram, thinking she would have the results then.

Meanwhile, she’s going to have me do a nuclear stress test to look for blockages which will be scheduled soon. Plus, I’m going to be mailed a heart monitor. These days, luckily, it’s just a wireless patch you wear on my chest that is connected to Bluetooth. She said I could sleep on my stomach, shower, and live my life as I normally do while it’s on for a week.

I’ll have a follow-up with her in mid-December, and maybe then I’ll remember to ask her about PAH. I totally forgot. We did discuss my family history, and how I’ve been having a lot of fatigue, and I mentioned the funny palpitations I have at times too. She couldn’t tell me if they mean anything but says they could be harmless extra beats from the bottom of the heart.

I knew there would be more appointments, though. I swear they’re like cockroaches.

Because this morning wouldn’t have been convenient for me to meet with Helen, I canceled and sent her a text letting her know I wanted to discontinue therapy for now but would contact her if I wanted to resume again. I told her that I believe I have enough tools to help get me through the tough times. I didn’t tell her this, but I don’t think she can do much more for me that I can’t do myself. I’m still not even sure anything we did was helpful. I also canceled the appointment online, but she never replied. I have a feeling she’s not too happy about it but oh well.

My mood is always better when I’m on days. Still need to work on finding more to do at night to distract me because that’s when my mood is likely to head south. I still don’t know why. It never used to be like this in the past. Maybe it’s because N24 progresses with age, as it has, and I wish more and more that I could always be on days. I just didn’t mind as much in the past but maybe that’s because I didn’t have as many appointments. I was outdoors more in the past as well. That’s another thing I have to do is make sure I get out when my schedule permits. I don’t miss Phoenix, but I sure miss that big, private backyard with its pool and sitting out on the bench swing. I almost wish cigarettes were free and harmless because that would be a good reason to pace back and forth in the back. There’s no place to sit back there so all I can do is stand with the ants and planes. At least the ants don’t bite as much here. Also, he sprayed them the other day and it seemed to do the trick.

We charged up a bit and now we’re off to BK. I’m so damn hungry, too!

We got treats at Walgreens the other day and Carol, the British cashier, now knows us well since we’ve been there enough times.

Love the two cute little misters I got for those hot flashes. Didn’t realize they needed to be charged, but that’s okay. I’ve got one on each desk. I almost wish I took one out in the car today.

I also love my new olive oil dispenser and pink drawer organizers I got. They really help make better use of the space and allow you to find things easier.

Still have a little burning down there at times, even using Replens, which I think I’m gonna stick with. I still doubt I have any kind of infection, even though I’m going to get cranberry juice just in case and because it’s good for you anyway. I think this is just how I am now so I may as well get used to it.

The latest challenge is out. A Halloween-themed challenge with rides around the various stomping grounds of some horror writers. So they’re mostly in New England, the UK, and Romania.

The fucking car reeks of cigarette smoke now because a couple exited their car nearby with cigarettes as I wait for Tom to pick up our food. When the fuck are they going to ban public smoking?!

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28, 2023 I wasn't going to do an entry until after my Monday appointment but I can't sleep. Tom and I were talking about going to the clubhouse on Tuesday to play bicycle bingo. This is basically to get out and do something different.

We were having a discussion earlier about how I've been having the same damn problem for years now where I just can't get excited over anything. I just don't feel I have much to look forward to, even when things aren't necessarily bad. Once you get to be this age, even if you're healthy and happy, things just aren't new and exciting anymore. If I won another cruise to another country, not that I wouldn't appreciate it, it wouldn't hold the same excitement it held for me when I first did in 2006 because I've already experienced it.

Part of me misses my old emotions. Not being the basket case that I used to be at times, but just feeling things instead of being so numb so much of the time. I really think it's a combination of age experience, maturity, and of course, EMDR.

I miss so many aspects of my old life as much as I don't. I miss having crushes on people. I miss feeling the intense relief that comes with skirting a dangerous situation but I don't miss coming close to danger. I miss getting all excited over the prospect of something totally new and imagining how wonderful it could be even if I turned out to be completely wrong.

Well, there is something sort of new and that's that I started studying Romanian on Duolingo. I'm not new to foreign languages but I'm new to Romanian.

I wish those who hate gays and women would stop calling it a religious thing because it’s not about religion any more than rape is about sex. It’s about hate and control. Period. Religion is simply the weapon they use to carry out their hateful deeds. Furthermore, saying that the acceptance of gays will lead to the acceptance of pedophiles is like saying decriminalizing marijuana will lead to decriminalizing murder. Some people are just so fucking ridiculous that I'm truly embarrassed for them.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 26, 2023 The fatigue is really kicking my ass. It seems like nearly every day I’m napping. I feel like I’m gonna be so doomed if we can’t figure this out. My biggest fear is still that it’s chronic fatigue, something I can’t even treat let alone cure. Fatigue like this would be a horrible life sentence.

I’m not sure if I would be relieved or horrified if they told me something was wrong with my heart. It would certainly fit with my symptoms and there would be treatment for it but I just don’t see it. That would be too easy. Finding a cause and being able to say hey, that’s it and this is what we can do about it is too easy and nothing is ever that simple for me. If there’s anything up there, yes, it would be cruel enough to inflict me with something this debilitating. The only thing worse that could happen to me would be if I became paralyzed or blind. Dealing with such heavy fatigue so much of the time is nothing I can ever “get used to.” This is simply no way to live because you’re basically too tired to have much of a life.

I’m also worried about my TSH and whether or not we can ever get that under control to stay and whether or not I’m really infected. I took the second diflucan, but I have my doubts as to whether or not I ever had a yeast infection or a UTI despite the WBC in my pee.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 25, 2023 My mamo and echo were fast and painless. I was surprised. I knew the echo would be pain-free, but I expected some discomfort with the mamo. Yet the only actual discomfort was the positions I had to stand in. She took four pictures and the boobies were only compressed for about 10 seconds for each pic.

There was actually slightly more discomfort with the echo. I had to lie on my left side and he jelled up the ultrasound stick thingy they use and kind of pressed it a little hard against my breastbone.

We were surprised by how quickly I was in and out. After the mamo, the echo was done just one room over.

When we were done, we went to the Cracker Barrel and the food was pretty good. I got the country-fried shrimp. Of course, the music was too loud but it was actually louder in the bathroom than in the restaurant. Someone could have been puking their guts out in the next stall, and I probably wouldn’t have heard them.

Although I’ve been tired, getting out boosted my mood a bit after spending a couple of days down and anxious. I’m relieved the tests have been done. Like I said, I would be very surprised if anything bad was found. At this point, I think some of my fatigue is on the thyroid, but most is chronic fatigue. It’s a rough life sentence to be facing, but not much I can do about it. There doesn’t seem to be much I can do about whatever’s hell-bent on cursing my sleep either. Last time around it was killer foot cramps, so I’m making a point to drink enough. It took me two fucking hours to get back to sleep. When I woke up, I was tired as I always am when my sleep gets broken up like that. I later napped for about an hour but I’m still tired, as I seem to be most of the time.

Still have occasional burning down there, similar to when I was in California. I’m still not sure if I ever really did have a yeast infection and if I should take the Diflucan or not. Trying the new moisturizer, Gynatrof, and they aren’t kidding when they said in the reviews that it burns at first. If I don’t like it, I’ll stick with Replens since Revaree is too expensive.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 24, 2023 I checked out of curiosity, and Rosa won’t be released next year after all. Pretty sure that before it said 2024 but didn’t give a month or a day. Now it says her release date is set for 12/2/2025. She has a lot of infractions against her so maybe that’s why even if most of it seems to be the usual petty shit (disobeying orders, found with contraband). Then she’ll be “ICE’d” to Mexico. Then again, 25 years is pretty typical for second-degree murder.

The question is, did she really do it? Did she really intentionally kill her daughter? Was it an accident? Or could she be totally innocent? The impression I got back then was that she didn’t have it in her to be so cold and calloused. At the same time, I thought it odd that one could be so bubbly after losing their kid, although I know that everyone deals with things differently. She told me that if she spent all her time sad and crying, it would just make her sick.

The last couple of days, I had some blah moments. Hopefully, it was just because I’ve been on nights. Along with worrying that I’m going to struggle with my thyroid medication and now my TSH for the rest of my life, I’m still not sure I ever had a yeast infection. I’m having more burning down there today than I’ve had in a while. So hopefully it’s just a matter of getting the right stuff for dryness down there. That will be arriving today. They said if I still had symptoms to use the second Diflucan they gave me, but I don’t know that the symptoms I feel are because of yeast. They also said that if that didn’t help, go to a GYN, but first I’ll try the new suppositories with the same ingredients as the ones the GYN recommended.

That’s another thing right there… I don’t have a GYN anymore because they’re now out of network. Damn, am I sick of this in-and-out-of-network crap, along with the referral game! I won’t get into how sick I am of appointments. I’ve got two of them tomorrow, and I was going to wait and do my writing then, thinking there would be some waiting time, but needed to get things off my chest now. The mammogram is gonna be at 8:45 and the echocardiogram will be right after that they said, so hopefully there won’t be much waiting time. I’m not looking forward to the appointments, of course, but I am looking forward to getting out.

I just hate not knowing for sure what’s causing what! Not knowing what’s going on for sure or what to do about it is worse than having answers. Like I said, I’m just gonna hope that the new suppositories will help. It’s actually a gel that you shove up there with an applicator.

I read that it’s normal to have some WBC in your urine. It’s how much you have that matters. That can be indicative of a UTI or kidney infection, along with bladder inflammation and even a blockage. But because bacteria wasn’t found, it doesn’t scream UTI like the doctors said. Plus, I don’t have stomach pain nor does it burn when I pee.

I feel like I’m never going to be healthy or have energy ever again.

Reading back in some of my older journals as I continue to proofread and edit out as many errors as I can got me thinking. A part of me misses being more sociable, but all the shit I went through with various people serves as a reminder once again that social isolation is the right thing to do. It may be a little more lonely and boring this way, but it’s definitely safer. Then there’s the fact that even if everyone was perfect, I just don’t feel I need to socialize that much. I do a fine job of entertaining myself and it’s not like I don’t have my husband.

I don’t know why, but so many diarists/journalists are either rude as hell or crazy. So even there, I have to be careful. I haven’t communicated with as many people on MD but there are a lot of rude people on PB and I have absolutely zero tolerance for rudeness. Once you’ve been rude to me, you can pretty much consider me driven away for good. The thing is that those with the types of personalities I’m usually drawn to wouldn’t be very active on social media, especially anything that was writing-based.

My LMN subscription doesn’t expire until next summer, but I’m definitely gonna cancel. Sure, I’ll miss some of the movies but getting 2+ months of holiday movies each year is ridiculous.

Also, this isn’t the '50s. Every parent is married, divorced, or widowed. There are hardly any gay/les characters. Abortion is never an option, and of course the culprit is never black because hey, they’re these perfect little angels, right? The so-called mean girl can only be black if she’s part of a group. Whenever there’s just one bully, they’re always white. I get that they’re pro-black like most people these days, but be a little more realistic!

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2023 Exchanged several messages with my docs throughout the night and it appears I have a yeast infection so they called in Diflucan. I should have listened to Tom who thought it wasn’t a good idea to get the suppositories that didn’t have the same ingredients as the ones the GYN recommended. The ones they recommended are too expensive but we should be able to find cheaper ones with similar ingredients.

I also agreed to jump to all 88s every day and will pick up the 100s that were called in just in case they’re needed in the future. The biggest mystery of all remains why my TSH is going wacky. My biggest fear is it crashing down too low. I mean like really low. Even they agreed that it’s pretty unusual for a TSH to jump as much as it has as quickly as it did. Before that, it dropped quite a bit quickly as well. So I worry about getting it under 10 at say a 7 or so and then it dropping 10 points. Nonetheless, we agreed to take it slow in the meantime as they know that I’m sensitive to the medication.

I learned that if you have a UTI bacteria usually show up in your urine but since it was just WBC they suspected a yeast infection. I have been having more burning and itching too. As I said, it’s the bipolar TSH that’s a concern right now.

As I said in my last entry, sometimes I just want to have a good cry but the tears just don’t come. It’s sort of like having emotional constipation, lol. I guess it’s just that I’m used to having regular health issues. It’s kind of like rejection. It hurts at first, maybe even angers you. But after so many years you’re like, “Oh well. People come and go in our lives.”

Looks like I was right to be worried that the bad dreams I had about myself were signs warning me of upcoming trouble. This is far from the first time that’s happened too. I knew they had to mean something. I swear I’m a doom psychic. Whenever bad things are going on, my dreams tell me.

Despite the frustrating and strange jump in TSH levels, I’m amazed I haven’t had anxiety along with it. At least not yet.

I just want my health back!

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2023 I am absolutely shocked, frustrated, and disappointed as hell! Why can’t I cry when I want to? Is it age/experience? EMDR? I want to scream, cry, and beat my head in the wall but I can’t. Instead, even though my mind is racing, I’m numb.

My T4 is 1.1 and my TSH is soaring at 22 and I have no idea why. All that’s good is my kidney function, blood sugar, and electrolytes. They found white blood cells in my urine but no bacteria. Again, I am completely mystified as to what the fuck is going on. Why can’t I have straightforward problems like my blood pressure?! Why do I have to have these complex and never-ending issues? It’s like the harder I try to get my thyroid under control, the more of a dream it becomes. If it weren’t for Tom I would’ve ended it years ago. Seriously, I’m 100% convinced it’s just a dream. The problem is that it’s no longer simply a dream to be able to handle the normal range. Now I can’t even get close to it and stay close. I just don’t understand what’s causing this erratic bouncing up and down. How can dropping one of the 88s a week bump my TSH up 14 points in just a few weeks???

It annoyed me how my doctors asked me how I felt about a small dose increase and then took it upon themselves to call in 100s with labs in 6 weeks that they expect me to take every day before I could reply. I told them they should know I can’t rapidly adjust my dose like most people can. Sure, I’ll increase the dose but no more than going to all 88s every other week with a 75 thrown in every other week, and then all 88s, and then adding one 100 a week for 6 weeks as needed.

He and I are wondering if I might have some kind of infection or inflammation going on that’s causing the TSH to be erratic. He read that stress can do that as well, but I’ve been stressed out all my life. I hope I haven’t developed a pituitary disorder! I told them I have been having warm spells along with cold spells, but haven’t had a fever.

I’m really surprised because I just haven’t felt that hypo lately except for fatigue and some cold spells. I’ve lost 4 lbs, something that’s been unheard of for me with an elevated TSH.

Because my current insurance plan is too expensive and because I didn’t like the last endo, and others in-network are too far away, we’re going to be changing plans which should include endos closer to home. Maybe we should have just settled in Tampa.

Why can’t I just be healthy?! Or dead.

I’m exhausted and fed up so I’ll write more later as I learn more.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 19, 2023 I had time to mull it over in my mind and I decided I’m gonna keep Blogger public but might schedule some private things for 20 years or so in the future.

I get that not everyone likes or agrees with everything I say, but I’m within my legal rights and not obligated to babysit people’s feelings. A journal is supposed to be an uncensored version of one’s thoughts and experiences. An audience is simply an afterthought, not that I’m not flattered that some people find my life that interesting as I drop a written copy of it on the world. I’m just not a people pleaser is what I’m saying. No one can please everybody all the time anyway, and no one has to read my stuff either. All readers, including the ones I told to buzz off, are welcome to stop by anytime because they’re not doing anything wrong by simply peeking in.

I do not, however, have any tolerance whatsoever for those who are sweet and kind one minute and defensive and snobby the next. I can’t deal with the overly sensitive and dramatic. If you don’t want anybody to say or write things about you in the future that you may not like, then don’t give them a reason to! :-) Just saying.

Went to the lab before sunup this morning. I keep going back and forth in my mind as to whether or not my TSH is going to be under 10. I have plenty of confidence that my kidney test is going to be okay but I’m not sure on the TSH. Again, I started my day off warm and with my HR a little elevated. But then it slowed down and I cooled down. So I do have signs that it’s not that high, but if it was that low, I would be anxious.

I slept better but woke up too soon, so I ended up napping shortly after I got up. I guess whatever is cursing my sleep decided I was sleeping too well and therefore it ought to cut my sleep short. I’m not too tired now, so I think I’ll catch up on some things I was too tired to do last night. Like playing the new Halloween-themed golf course that just came out, Widows Walkabout.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 18, 2023 Since starting Losartan on the 10th I've been fine except that last night I was very lightheaded for a few hours. I do sometimes get this anyway but usually eating makes me feel better yet I was still light-headed. I checked my BP and it wasn’t too low. I can't say for sure if it's connected to the medication but if it is, is this a dangerous side effect? I asked my doctors what they recommended I do and they said give it a little more time.

I agree because again, I don't know that there was a connection for sure, and for the first time in my life, there might actually be a good side effect! My weight is going down. Tom never lost weight on it but I read around a bit and I did find that some people do lose weight on it. It has something to do with breaking down cholesterol deposits in the bloodstream or something to that effect.

I didn't sleep as bad as the day before but I didn't sleep great either. I didn't have to get up and pee but I still woke up four or five times. I had another bad dream too even if it wasn't as bad as the current in the pond.

A gap suddenly appeared in my two front teeth that was wide enough to slip a fingernail in. When I did that I could feel a tooth coming down in back between the teeth. I ran into the first dentist I had in Cali somewhere and she said she'd like me to come in after quickly inspecting my teeth. I already had another appointment scheduled with the second Cali dentist I had but I was in her office anyway a split second later and she was examining the impacted tooth more closely. Scheduled my RL dental cleaning for mid-November.

I just hope that and the pond dream aren't signs that something is about to go wrong. Despite my family history, I just don't see the mammogram or the echo turning up anything bad. Hopefully, it's not that the BP med is going to backfire on me but there are always other things to try if it does.

I do want to lose weight but am a little scared to because body weight affects both Levothyroxine and BP meds. That's another thing I don't really see happening but as Tom pointed out, I probably won't lose more than a few pounds because bodies get used to medication. When I took Claritin-D in Oregon I first lost 10 lbs because it suppressed my appetite but eventually, it stopped doing that. The first time I tried oolong tea I lost 10 lbs and it too stopped having that effect on me.

120 lbs would be ideal, 110 lbs would be very ideal, but I would settle for 140 lbs. Right now I'm down from 165 to 162 so it isn't much. Even he's gone down 5 lbs. Makes me wonder if maybe the scale is a bit off all of a sudden with us both losing weight at the same time. I doubt it's my TSH coming down because I would be anxious and have other symptoms as well if it was low enough to affect my weight because that's how it always works for me. My TSH is likely to be above 10 but I should find out soon enough because I'm going to the lab later in the morning. I also have to provide a urine sample because they're gonna test my kidney function to see if it's filtering the Losartan properly.

This rat is so funny. We got her some yogurt treats that had a lot of good reviews on Amazon. You only give them a few a day. Well, she just loves them! She knows that after she's been out for a while she gets a treat when she goes home. There have been a few times when she'll step out of her cage and then turn around and go right back home so she can get a treat, the smart little shit, haha. Now that it's getting a little chilly at night she also loves burrowing in my nice soft robe.

I worked on this entry on and off for several hours and no lightheadedness which is great but I feel nauseous after eating some nuts.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2023 "I don't want to party like it's 1999. I want to go grocery shopping like it's 1999."

Andy shared a meme saying this and I totally agree! I'll settle for going grocery shopping like it's 2020. Food prices are astronomical! Even most of the cheap stuff isn't so cheap anymore.

Another shitty sleep. The mower didn't wake me up but I kept waking up and having a hard time falling back asleep. It was ridiculous. It was like I just couldn't get comfortable.

Tom trimmed the tree at the corner of the house that I wish he’d gotten rid of when he had someone come out and cut it back. It really was quite a workout for him.

He donated blood today at the clubhouse which I wanted to do and was bummed that I had to sleep through but he said it was a good thing I wasn't there. He said it not only took forever but they had trouble getting a vein which is unusual for him. In that case, they’d never get mine. They also have to take your blood pressure with the arm cuff I hate and it would have taken me forever to go through my medical history and all the medications I've taken in which case they would likely not have wanted to take my blood. They took a pound of blood from him and he got a t-shirt and a $20 gift certificate for it. So I guess it worked out for the better because it doesn't sound like it would be very much fun. I have enough medical shit to deal with.

My dentist sent reminders to get my teeth cleaned which is due November 6th, and I'll schedule that after the appointments that I have at the end of this month are out of the way. They can get me in relatively quickly so I want to wait until I have a little less going on.

It would just be nice to get some decent sleep more than just occasionally but I've lost hope of that ever happening. I could sleep on the most comfortable bed in the world and in a sensory deprivation tank and still sleep shitty with my luck. I'm definitely snoring more than ever and I think I really do need a CPAP. Some of the times I woke up I felt short of breath. It was like I just couldn't suck in a full lungful of air.

Also after getting the end-of-the-month appointments out of the way, I want to ask Galileo if there's any way they could help me lose weight, especially with the new drugs available but I think Tom's right when he says they’ll likely tell me I'm not heavy enough. First I had him measure my height to see if I'm closer to 4 ft 10 in or 4 ft 11 in because I'm never sure which one it is and which one to choose when asked. The answer is the latter. At 163 lb and this height, my BMI is 32.9. They usually won't help you unless you're 40 or higher. I'm not diabetic and I don't have PCOS or anything like that so they likely wouldn't give me any drugs for weight loss.

Going to the lab on Thursday morning. I expect my kidneys will show that they're handling the Losartan well but I don't expect my thyroid to be good at all. After seeing how shitty my numbers are, I would be willing to drop one of the 75s to every other week but I don't want to jump to all 88s that fast. I just hope it's not crazy high again! I hope that it was just a case of my body learning to absorb thyroid meds without a gallbladder and not something that's going to keep happening all the time.

I finally got all my '90s journals done and now I'm working on the ‘00s. I got them as correct as I'm ever going to get them. I realize I can't get every single word correct and every single sentence grammatically correct but I did my best and replaced the old copies with them. It should go a little faster until the ‘10s. From there on out I started writing like crazy so there will be more to go through.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 16, 2023 Whoa, Losartan works! BP’s 118/77!

Mia and I are on level 250 but I’m gonna be taking a break from her soon because she was mostly just a fun fashion game. To each their own but I never felt the need to chat to a nonsentinent AI bot. Perhaps if I could play make-believe in the way I could as a child, I would. But I just can’t make it seem “real.” Reality is reality and pretend is pretend.

Yesterday was Mary’s birthday. The one from jail. Every time this time of year comes around I can’t help but remember her, even though I’m sure she would be completely clueless if asked when my own birthday was. Nonetheless, even though she used the hell out of me, there was still some good to our friendship. She helped me with my writing in ways no one else ever has. It just would have been nice if she’d asked before assuming and accusing me of what she did just as it would have been with Lisa. Our friendship didn’t have to end. But I’m not gonna make the mistake I’ve made with too many others by seeking her out anymore than I would take her back into my life if she sought me out, not that she ever would. I’m sure she never gives me a moment’s thought.

Each time I get woken up, I get a little surer that something really is cursing my sleep. I just don’t know why. Tomorrow, it will likely be the mower. Today, it was a nightmare.

I passed a couple of ladies who approached a woman to discuss something about credit cards. I knew it was a scam and so did the woman they stopped. Not wanting to be pestered next, I pedaled away on my bike which could be ridden on land or water. I decided to cut across a small pond that was a few hundred feet in diameter. The water brushed against my sandaled feet and felt warm. I got about 50 feet from the embankment when a current I didn’t know was there started pulling me faster through the water. Not knowing where I was going to end up, I tried to turn around but the current was too strong. It was then that I woke up, having my sleep shorted by an hour or two. After laying there for an hour unable to get back to sleep, I got up for a short while and then I napped.

I really wish something would stop fucking with my sleep and energy levels. I just don’t get why it’s so damn important to it, whatever “it” is, but it’s getting obvious that this can’t be a coincidence. Things like this just don’t happen this often. Once in a while is a coincidence, regularly is a pattern.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 15, 2023 “I’m never going to have another friend like Aly,” I said to Tom the other day.

“That’s what you said about having a rat like Tinkerbell.”

He’s got a point there. This rat is even better and Tinkerbell was truly awesome. I’d love to have a close friend I was in touch with daily or close enough to it that was intelligent, honest, and with it. We don’t have to have every single thing in common but it would be nice to have some basic common ground. She wouldn’t have to be 100% with it either. It’s okay to be a little crazy because hey, we’re all a little crazy at times. I think it’s how a person is crazy and the frequency of it that matters. Hell, I just walked into the bedroom door! That’s a little crazy, lol. I forgot to open it after Tinkerbella went home and then I cut the kitchen light before walking into the bedroom to relax in bed and do this entry on my phone. In the dark, I didn’t see the door so I walked right into it.

Yesterday was a great day because I had an unusual amount of energy. I was so productive, too. I knew it was a rare treat and to take advantage of it. Today I’m back to being me. Tired ole me. Who knows how long it will be before I have that degree of energy again? It was great while it lasted. I felt traces of my old self and it really boosted my mood too. I’m not in a bad mood now but the better I feel physically, the better I tend to feel emotionally. I think that’s the general rule for most people. Today I’m tired as usual but this is me as I’ve known it for nearly a decade. I admit that I slept shitty because I woke up a lot. I also wasn’t very comfortable so we added a layer of foam and I think this might work out.

The weather was gorgeous today so I took advantage of the stiff breeze and opened a few windows to air the place out since it’s been closed up for months.

Andy’s being annoying again. He didn’t accuse me of lying but his words implied that I was. I don’t know where this came from but out of the blue, after we started a discussion about the war in Israel, he said he couldn’t help but think that I would wish both the Israelis and Palestinians dead if I wasn’t Jewish, which of course is ridiculous. I don’t wish the Ukrainians dead and I’m not Ukrainian. It’s all about what I see going on and a matter of right versus wrong, not who or what I am.

He said it was just his opinion. I told him his opinion was wrong.

“Okay,” he replied. Yeah, whatever. I used to think that if you’ve known a person long enough then you would know them better but apparently, that’s not always the case. After all, my own mother didn’t know me as well as she should have and probably thought she did. While it’s the thought that counts, what mother sends her child citrus-flavored snacks and doesn’t know that child hates citrus?

So I still have mixed emotions about being connected to him and sometimes I just want to ghost. At the same time, I don’t want to hurt his feelings. This is why I try not to have too much contact with him, though. As soon as I feel like I’m being judged or basically called a liar over the most mundane of things that I have absolutely no need to kid him about, I’m gone. If a friend can’t take another friend for face value then what kind of a friendship can you really have? I thought about just going along with whatever he thinks I’m thinking, wanting, or feeling but then I would be a liar for real.

I also think he still projects too much of himself onto others. He likes it when others have things in common with him yet at the same time he boasts about how proud he is to be unique.

I read an article on what defines a toxic friend and I swear he ticked off just about every single box. If I ever do feel he’s toxic enough to consider my feelings before his and cut ties with him, I’m not even going to bother giving him an explanation as to why since I know he wouldn’t get it. I would just ghost. The question is whether or not I should block him on Facebook along with his phone number. He’ll know he’s been dumped if I do that so a part of me was wondering if I should go quiet and leave it at that. I just wouldn’t want him thinking I was dead or anything like that.

Tom’s going to give blood on Tuesday at the clubhouse. They’re going to pay him for it. I would love to donate as well, but as usual, when there’s something I want to do, I’ll have to sleep. I’m now getting up in the early afternoons and they’ll only be here from 10 AM - 1 PM.

I think I know why my weight has been inching up and it’s not necessarily connected to my thyroid. I think it’s the cholecystectomy. This does happen to some people and of course, I have to be one of them. I wonder how much more I’m going to put on. I just can’t get weight off no matter what I do. Once I get the echo and mammogram out of the way, I might have to make a case with Galileo but I think this is simply the way I am and the way I’m meant to be for the rest of my life. The only question is how high up the ladder I’m going to climb.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14, 2023 In the heat of the moment, we all say mean things when we’re pissed off. Ex: I hate autistics, I hate this person, I hate that group, etc. While there are definitely some people and groups I loathe for what I believe are justifiable reasons, I don’t literally “hate” most people. I just hate their behavior at times. I hate the grief and frustrations they give me. Especially when I know damn well I didn’t do anything to deserve it. I just wanted to make that much clear. If I ever do read anything that certain people may write in the future, I will definitely keep my mouth shut. I don’t want any trouble any more than they do. Admitting you have a problem is half of the battle. The other half is actually doing something about it.

Galileo told me the Pitavastatin is now covered by my insurance and wanted to know if I wanted to wait until after my meeting with the cardiologist to decide whether or not to take it and I said yes, I want to wait. The only thing I’d worry about when it came to the statin or any other drug I may be on in the future is whether or not I could be taking it for a while and then the insurance stops approving it.

Tom just said that rarely happens, and that usually when an insurance company won’t pay for a medication, it’s because it’s relatively new. Once it’s been out there for some time, insurance companies start covering it and don’t usually stop. Either way, I doubt I’ll ever take cholesterol medication of any kind.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2023 Today’s been a little better than yesterday. Started off pretty tired but perked up later on. I made sure not to nap today so I can see if I have trouble falling asleep again tonight.

Had another “shower beat-a-thon.” I awoke really warm and then I showered. I was not only still warm after that but my heart raced up to about 116. I ended up getting a couple of zone minutes because of it. Still don’t get why I’m having warm spells, and again with the HR spike. I again started to think my TSH was getting too low but that’s not what the scale says. Plus, I wasn’t anxious. Luckily, whatever it was didn’t last long. I’d have to guess hormones at this point.

I’m glad I’ll be going to a cardiologist soon and getting some answers once and for all but I still can’t believe anything is wrong with my heart. I don’t know why but I just can’t see it. I don’t know if it’s because it’s hard to believe or what but I would be surprised despite my family history if they said there was a problem.

Then there’s the part of me that kind of wishes they would find a problem and tell me it’s why I’ve been experiencing so much fatigue. The other part, of course, doesn’t want any more problems. Same goes for when it comes to the mamo.

My greatest fear right now is that we will never be able to figure out what it is, or that we will figure it out but there will be no treatment for it, or that the only treatment available will be something that I am unable to handle.

Nothing from Kim and I don’t miss her one bit. I’m still not sure if something is going on with her or if I got dumped but I’m guessing I’m a latter. As I said, if I knew it would be that easy I would have said the wrong thing a long time ago. So she’s done me a favor right along with Molly and others that have pissed me off one too many times and that have stamped out any lingering question as to whether or not I should wish them a happy New Year in a couple of months, for example, comment on their stuff, or wish them a happy birthday in just over a few months.

I give people way too many chances and I’ve got to stop doing that and constantly walking on eggshells around certain people and never knowing if the most innocent of statements or questions are going to get them in a frenzy. I’ve had people go ballistic on me as if I asked them to kill themselves or their loved ones. As I’ve learned the hard way, if I see a red flag once I’m certainly going to see it again and again and again. The number of times is only a matter of how dumb I am to stick around. So…eliminating the crazies and one-sided friendships are definitely things to crack down on! I sure as hell Miss Aly, though! She could be a bit moody and dishonest at times but she wasn’t crazy.

No side effects yet from the Losartan. At least I don’t think there is. I do notice maybe a slight bit of fatigue but it’s hard to really say for sure because I have so much of that anyway. Same with trouble crashing. I also noticed muscle tightening or weakness in the hip area for a few hours after taking it almost as if I exercised my hips and butt muscles really hard. It’s not prominent enough to make a sure connection, though.

Sounds like Friday night out there since that’s the second fucking helicopter in less than an hour. And OMG, the fucking motorcycles on 19! It’s almost like the freeway at the old place.

Tom put up half a dozen of those little baskets on the inner bathroom closet wall. They hold my nail polish perfectly.

I noticed something interesting when I checked the honker’s profile to see if I could get a sense of when he was coming down. Seeing nothing new on his wall, I jumped over to the girlfriend’s profile but they’re not friends anymore.

Hmm… should I be worried? I just wonder if his coming down alone will entice him to ride that damn motorcycle more.

The fucking T-heads are wreaking havoc all around the world and no, I don’t give a shit who I offend in saying so. No one has to read my stuff. You don’t like it, then get out of here! Really, it’s like no matter how many atrocities these people commit, you’re still “racist” if you have anything negative to say about them. Well fine, I’ll be whatever label you want to put on me for it but it doesn’t change the facts. I’m sickened by the countless acts of violence committed by these fuckers and I’m almost as sickened by all the support they’re getting as well. All over the fucking world there are pro-Palestinian rallies showing support for these terrorists who started the whole thing. Hell, even fucking Harvard students are pro-terrorists. I guess you don’t have to be a genius after all to get into Harvard.

Andy vented in a voicemail to me about his frustration with this situation because he thinks it’s “safer” than Facebook and no one can punish him for leaving a voicemail.

He does realize that any account and device can be monitored, right? It’s just that the difference between him and me is that I’m not going to allow my expression to be stifled, especially when I’m not making any direct threats to anyone. If you spy or read someone’s journal, you might just hear something you can’t handle and I refuse to be responsible for that. If I’ve got something to say, I’m saying it. Yes, I am picky about what I say on what platforms for the sake of those I’m close to but what goes on in my journal, public or not, is a whole different story.

He and I recently learned that Israel supplied the power for the Gaza Strip. How fucking dumb can you be to go and send a shitload of rockets to the very people who supply your electricity and other things? Isn’t that like biting the hand that feeds you? I am completely baffled as to how people could possibly be so damn stupid. I’m almost as embarrassed for these people as I am sickened by them. How could they not have expected consequences for their actions? It’s like they wanted this to happen.

I’m glad Israel has finally realized that there’s just no reasoning with these sick twists and that the only way to save themselves in the end is to eradicate these terrorists and that’s what they’ve sworn to do. It’s about fucking time! I know they didn’t want to come off as bad as Hitler and his people but sometimes you really do need to fight back when you’re attacked. My only concern is that the thousands of survivors that flee the strip will end up over here. It would be just like Biden to use our money to bring them here so they can carry on with their acts of violence. I just don’t get how they can have so many supporters when it’s so obvious who the perpetrators are. I am completely baffled by that one. Just totally and utterly mystified. Americans and many other countries hated the T-heads responsible for 9/11 but if it’s Jews getting terrorized it’s okay? How fucked up is that?!

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 12, 2023 Still having fatigue and still not sure how much could be attributed to the flu shot, my new BP med, sleep apnea, chronic fatigue, or whatever. Sometimes I wonder if I could have caught COVID and have fatigue from that. Or maybe the COVID vaccine or booster gave it to me. Hard to believe it would last this long if that was the case, though.

My docs checked in with me and asked how I was doing and if I was experiencing any side effects. I told them I didn’t think so but have had trouble falling asleep for the first two nights. I have that problem a lot anyway. Having to nap because of all the fatigue doesn’t help either. This can cause me to stay up a little later even if I’m still tired.

Another thing that’s been frustrating me is that I’ve been going from hot to cold a lot lately. This began before the flu shot. As I told my docs when they asked how I’ve been feeling under my thyroid case, I told them I may have jumped the gun in assuming I was taking too much Levo, especially since I didn’t have the anxiety, rapid heartbeat, and weight loss that usually go with that. We’ll find out in a couple of weeks. I didn’t have night sweats as bad last night, but the night before I sure did. When I asked the bot what could cause this, it came up with 16 different possibilities, some of which don’t apply to me since I’m obviously not getting cycles. Menopause was listed, but I would think that this late in the game, they would have tapered off and not gotten worse.

13% of the way into my trip, I made it to Roma, Texas. I didn’t get to experience the fun of crossing the border, though, so they must have legal issues with images pertaining to that. It just jumped me from right before the border to right over it. I’ll probably be at 30% when I get past Texas. I rode for 400 miles in Mexico, and I’m going to be riding for 500 miles through Texas. I’ll be spending the most time in this state of all the states on my route. I now have just under 2500 miles to go!

Read that a fetus is about the size of a grape when most abortions occur. Do the pro-lifers really think a grape knows what’s going on?

I was discussing the Hamas’ attack on Israel, and both Tom and Andy said that Israel doesn’t want to obliterate the Palestinians even though Andy and I believe they should because they know what it’s like to be targeted for death themselves. Yeah, but they were being targeted simply for being who they are and not because they’re violent and provoked the attack. I honestly think the only way Israel is ever going to escape the attacks from these sick fuckers is to eradicate them altogether.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 11, 2023 We got our flu shots yesterday and we’re feeling the effects of it. He also got the pneumonia shot which you only get once that I got back in 1999. It’s changed since then so his is probably better. My arm got sore right away but it isn’t sore today. I’m just tired and have a low-grade fever, though it’s hard to tell how much fatigue is what I have most of the time anyway. I’m in a very lazy mood and we both agreed not to do any work and just relax and do fun things.

We golfed and later I plan to hit the US border. I’m about to reach the god-awful state of Texas where guns have more rights than women. I’m about 12% through the trip with 2530 more miles to go. My rank is in the 140s.

Anyway, he’s tired as well with a slight fever and also achy. I’m not achy. I even managed to go out for a quick walk earlier. It’s pretty humid out today. We’re supposed to get rained on but most of the time they say that we don’t.

Still radio silence from Kim. This is one of those times I really miss having Aly around because she would probably have a better sense of what was going on. Telling Kim what she wouldn’t want to hear tells me I’ve been ghosted but then I would think she’d at least be a little curious about what I was saying in my emails to her even if she planned never to reply. Or maybe not because she knows it’s not in public where others can see it. Only time will tell if it’s that or she got in trouble and had her phone taken away but I’m going to enjoy the break from her whether it’s temporary or permanent.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 10, 2023 Took my first dose of Losartan. They’re starting me at 50 mg. It says on the bottle that it may make me dizzy, but I hope not. We also learned that it can take three to six weeks to take effect. They’re going to send me to the lab in a couple of weeks to make sure it’s not fucking up my kidneys and they threw in a thyroid test at the same time. I have a feeling my TSH is going to be worse, but if it is I could try throwing in a 75 every other week instead of every week.

I will not be taking the Pitavastatin because it’s not covered under my insurance. I asked my docs why they would recommend something that wasn’t covered and they said they can’t always know what’s covered and what’s not until the pharmaceutical companies tell them because the “preferred” list changes regularly. That’s okay. I’m not eager to treat my cholesterol since I’d likely have side effects again and all not treating it could do is kill me (I know that sounds funny, but if I’m dead I can’t suffer symptoms). High blood pressure, however, could cause me to end up on dialysis and that would be worse than death. Especially if you have N24.

Installed a Gmail tracker because I wanted to see if Kim was accessing my messages. The free version lets you track five emails a month. I sent a message and it wasn’t opened. The fact that it wasn’t doesn’t mean she’s not ignoring them or hasn’t marked them as spam since she’s not one who can handle hearing what she doesn’t want to hear, but more than likely they’re not being picked up because something’s wrong or she got in trouble with the latter being the most likely. I hate to say it, but I still hope I’ve been dumped because I’m just tired of mental cases. I should know eventually because if she got in trouble she’d find a way to reach out to me somewhere, somehow, later on. If I never hear from her, then yeah, she couldn’t handle the truth and she ghosted me.

Moving forward…if you’re not at least relatively sane, smart, and honest, I don’t want anything to do with you.

Nothing going on in back and I never heard from the AC people, so I guess they were just mowing and clearing brush now that storm season is over. Could get some rain tomorrow and the next day, though. There’s an 80% chance tomorrow and a 97% chance on Thursday.

Since it’s gonna be a while before we can get a new mattress, we’re gonna flip this one and see if that reverses the dent that’s forming where I lay. The thing is, I lay in a very concentrated area because of the body pillow. I can’t just roll over from my stomach onto my side, or something like that because I would be where the body pillow is. So with my weight consistently in the very same spot, an indentation formed in the barely two years I’ve had this cheap mattress.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 9, 2023 That tractor was real after all, but it’s not a tractor. Something was back there for hours yesterday clearing brush. My first thought was to worry they were gearing up to build something back there. But the more I learned about the land itself, the more I realized they can’t get as close as I thought if they did want to build anything. First, the land is a narrower strip than I thought it was after studying it closely on the satellite map. Secondly, the land does dip down right behind the fence in back like Tom insisted. He went out with his VR cam, raised it up on a stick so he could see over the vegetation, and you could clearly see that there’s about a 10-foot drop, and then straight across is a hill as the land goes back upward and then flattens out. The part that’s level directly behind us wouldn’t be wide enough to build anything significant. The land is flat directly behind the fence opposite ours which is where they were going. They were riding up and down a little dirt road that runs directly behind their fence, toward the back, and then back up toward the front by the main road.

It could have been that one of the houses in back was having a fence replaced or something. We heard a wood chipper too, so they were definitely clearing brush from somewhere. I wonder if they’re working around the perimeter. If that’s the case, I hope they get to us before I’m sleeping in. I can see why they’d be tempted to let it go as long as they have due to the incline. I think the last time they cut trees right back there was before we moved in. Toni mentioned it stirring up mice.

I was a little surprised they were working on a Sunday. It will be interesting to see if they work today since it’s a holiday. I emailed the AC company to see what they say. They could still build a small warehouse that could still be too close for comfort. I messaged Toni too, not knowing she was in rehab. She’ll be home today, though. She had follow-up surgery on her hip.

As I knew they would sooner or later, my docs mentioned wanting me to try another statin as well as go on blood pressure medication. They recommended Pitavastatin which I have never heard of, but I still say I’ll have problems. Most likely foot cramps. I made it clear to them that this is the absolute last-ditch effort I’m going to make when it comes to this. If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be.

The BP is actually a little more important to me because from what I read, you’re more likely to have kidney damage from high BP than to die of a heart attack or a stroke from high cholesterol. If I suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack or a stroke, that would be one thing because I wouldn’t have to live with the consequences. But I don’t want my kidneys damaged and to have to go in for dialysis regularly, N24 or not.

Another reason I want to give this a try is because even though I still think most of my fatigue comes down to sleep apnea and or chronic fatigue, high blood pressure can cause fatigue. So can some of the medications, though, like beta blockers. So I told them I don’t want to take a beta blocker for it. I took one once that Doc O recommended for anxiety about 7 years ago and it knocked me out and made me cold. I told them I also didn’t want to try Lisinopril because of the way Tom was on it and coughed a lot. I’m hoping they’ll give me Losartan.

I’ll try it and hope for the best but worst-case scenario, it doesn’t work out and I don’t take meds. Nothing can keep me alive forever anyway.

Unless something’s going on that I don’t know about, it looks like I may have actually been dumped by Kim for daring to agree with her sister as far as her obsessive ways go. I mean, she dumped me once for calling her out on the anonymous Ask account she once had that she hit Aly and I with nasty “questions”. The only difference is that she can’t stalk me this time. Nor will she be able to if she ever makes it back online. When she harassed me many years ago, it was harder to block people on some sites.

This is definitely someone who can’t admit and accept responsibility for anything and can’t handle constructive criticism of any kind whatsoever. If I’d known that agreeing with others who have also noticed how she gets obsessed with one person after another was all it took to get this nut job out of my life without ghosting her and feeling guilty for it, I would have called her on her shit a long time ago. I won’t miss her long rambling repetitious messages. Keeping up with her had become a chore but I was too nice to cut ties. So thank you, Kim, for doing me this favor. Meanwhile, no more mental cases! There never would have been a Molly or a Kim if it hadn’t been for Aly. That was one of Aly’s faults was that she was drawn to the crazies of the world. They latched on to me through her.

Here we go with the runs again. Been having them once or twice a week and I still have no idea what’s causing them. I haven’t taken any supplements or pain relievers for a couple of days, so I guess it’s just life without a gallbladder. At least it’s not every day like that woman said was the case with her.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2023 So the Hamas have attacked Israel yet again. I guess some people never learn or change. The next time Muslims can’t figure out for the life of them why there are still some people who aren’t too fond of them, maybe they’ll remember this along with the many other atrocities they commit.

They beefed up security in the US to protect synagogues because this is only going to fuel the hate for Jews all over the world even more. I used to think blacks and Mexicans were the worst. Make that blacks and Muslims! And no, I don’t give a shit who I offend. I have a right to express my opinion the same as anyone else.

The pollen count is high today so I’m not going to go out walking, since my lungs have been tight. We are going to make a quick run to Publix, though. Got to change her cage today too.

Did my second hair removal treatment.

Doc A is running in yet another marathon, this time in Chicago. She’s got to work part-time. Even if you have all the energy in the world I just don’t see how she can be a doctor full-time, care for three kids, yet do as much running as she does along with other activities and vacations.

I think I might have Tom’s tinnitus now, only mine is a low-pitched hum. I thought tinnitus had to be a high-pitched ringing sound but it’s not always that way. I just hope it’s not a sign of anything bad and doesn’t get louder. At first I thought it was the distant drone of traffic but at 3:00 in the morning? It was when I laid my good ear on the pillow and realized it was the same exact volume that it hit me that it was inside my head. It’s very soft and can only be heard if it’s extremely quiet. It’s low and steady without any changes in pitch. Reminds me of a large vehicle idling in the distance. So maybe the tractor I thought I heard the other day wasn’t real.

The more I read about it, the more I am convinced I have chronic fatigue. What a cruel hand in life to be dealt! To know I’m going to struggle with this for the rest of my life is a very tough pill to swallow. Sure, it could be worse like if I was paralyzed or blind but this is bad enough. Any ailment debilitating enough to interfere with your daily activities sucks. I can’t help but wonder why I’ve been dealt this hand in life and hope that there isn’t a higher power responsible for it. The thought of a higher power allowing or causing my suffering is unsettling. Have I truly been so deserving of atresia, TMJ, nerve damage, inner ear problems, asthma, allergies, dental issues galore, Hashimoto’s, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, ADHD, PTSD, weight loss challenges, anxiety, depression, sleep apnea, N24, past fertility issues, bungled sex, and now this?

If there is indeed some force that wishes for me to endure suffering, at least I know it won’t bring forth any fatal illnesses like cancer or heart disease. It’s a paradox—I sometimes wish for an end to the suffering but also want to remain with my husband and Tinkerbella.

I dreamed we were living in the Phoenix house or at least a house laid out that way. Tom said he thought he heard something. I walked out of the back room, through the kitchen, and into the living room. I then peered out of the large window to the left of the door and could just about make out a dark pant leg.

“Somebody’s there,” I said. So then I opened the door and immediately regretted doing so when I saw a cop standing there. I regretted it even more when he asked for me specifically. Then there was a second cop standing there. I noticed that their uniforms looked a little weird but I wasn’t any less concerned. I knew they were there to fuck with me because of some completely petty thing I did that should be far from illegal or because someone set me up. The dream ended then so I don’t know which it was.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2023 My TMJ has been driving me crazy lately! I don’t know why since I just got my ear cleaned, but I don’t think it’s all TMJ. I think my eustachian tube gets blocked and then there’s the nerve damage as well. The bot said to be cautious when it comes to nasal sprays because you can end up with rebound congestion. It suggested I consider a saline spray instead so I’ll get that with our next Walmart order.

Went for a walk around two blocks instead of just one this morning. Saw both motorcycles at the bitch’s place on my way back. Not surprised since he spends weekends here. Of course, she can’t go to his place. I’m sure it won’t be much longer before he moves in here. I already hear the bastard on other days besides weekends but it will be worse when he’s here full time. Thank God I’m not next to them!

Anyway, when I returned from my walk, I was winded and tired. I’m definitely out of shape but I could get in better shape if only I had the energy to do this full-time. Because I only have the energy for this type of cardio 2-3 days a week, it’s very hard to be consistent. For a few hours after my walk, I didn’t feel great but I can’t really describe what I felt. I mean, I’m just not sure what it was. It was kind of like a mix of being breathless and anxious.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2023 I should never have agreed to message Bob for Kim because now she’s emailing me about it, even though I’ve told her more than once to wait and let me catch up on her old messages before she hits me with more stuff. At least this one wasn’t long. It was just to tell me that he’s pissing her off again and also insisting he hates texts and emails. Gee, I wonder why Kim is. Think maybe he could be saying that to stop you from sending him 50 emails a day?

What is it with autistic people getting so obsessed with people and interests? It’s one thing to be passionate about something you enjoy, but it’s another to get downright obsessed. Same with people. It’s okay to be really into someone and follow their interests and what’s going on in their lives whether they’re famous or not. But it’s not okay to stalk the shit out of them to the point that they feel annoyed and or threatened, and this is basically what she’s doing just like she did to June, to me, and to others in the past.

Carol, please throw her in a group home already!

It’s funny, though, because Tom’s pretty sure that if he was a kid today, he would be diagnosed with autism. Maybe I would too. One of the possible indicators is being bothered by noise and textures. I had to laugh at that one because he’s definitely bothered by certain textures, and I’m definitely bothered by certain sounds. If the sound is loud or too repetitious, it gets to me. But at least Tom and I don’t hound the shit out of people and then spite them when they don’t give us the attention we want. If you want to know all about me because you’re genuinely curious and you care, I’m flattered. If you want to know because you want to punish me for some imagined offense or because we may not agree on something, fuck you.

I’m really getting worried about my weight. It’s inching up a little more. Is it really because of my thyroid? My eating habits haven’t changed but we do need fewer calories the older we get so I guess it really is time to start focusing on eating less. For a while, I mostly focused on ingredients but now I need to focus on calories.

Yesterday I had decent energy and I should have pushed myself to do more when I had the chance. I did some dusting but I’m otherwise exhausted because I was up a long time and didn’t sleep long. I also woke up to pee and with a stuffy nose, so I had to stop and put on a nose strip. Like I said, if it isn’t outside noise, it’s me. I swear something is cursing my sleep and wants me tired.

It saddens me to think that if I’m right about having chronic fatigue regardless of what else is going on with me how hard the rest of my life is going to be. I’m more homebound than ever. I’m not able to walk as much as I did in the last place and even there I lost a lot of walking time due to feeling shitty. Now that it’s not so hot I’m trying to make a point of going out and walking more but it’s not that easy. I barely managed to do a quick loop around the block today. There’s no way I can stick to anything above and beyond the glider regularly be it the vibe platform or Bowflex or walking. With my energy levels the way they are, I would only be able to do these things a couple of times a week and that’s not enough to really reap the benefits. You need to do them at least five times a week, especially the vibe and walking/jogging. So I’m not likely to up the cardio anytime soon but I’m going to try to make a point of at least doing a few sit-ups like when I’m on the floor playing with the rat and working my arm with the exercise ring.

Not surprisingly, while I was out walking I heard three planes just in the few minutes it took me to circle the block. It’s terrible here. All the airlines care about are their profits and to hell with how it affects anyone else. Again, it’s not that it’s loud but it’s way too much. Too much of anything is simply too much. A few a day would be fine but more than a few dozen is not. And this isn’t counting the small planes and helicopters but at least those aren’t as bad as they were in the old place.

As I passed by the bitch’s house I saw that only her motorcycle was there and noticed for the first time that her car has a Kentucky plate. She doesn’t seem to be a snowbird so why the out-of-state plate?

Tom said Happy’s been back to barking again but I think I’ve only heard him once in weeks. Wouldn’t be surprised if he got to be a nuisance again as the weather cools down. Again, I’ve seen how his owners interact with him and they encourage him to be the way he is. Even if they didn’t, it does seem like male dogs are noisier. The honker’s dogs are female and they rarely bark. Whiskey barked all the time in Auburn but Brandy didn’t. So if we ever get a dog, a male is definitely out of the question. I suppose the breed has something to do with it too. I still think it would be nice to have a dog because I don’t know that I would want another rat after Tinkerbella because I just can’t imagine getting two in a row this wonderful.

Watched a movie called Nowhere and it was awesome! Now I’m looking for a new series without the foreign accents. I don’t mind foreign shows with American voiceovers as much but it’s still nice to have something set in the US with American actors.

I don’t know if I’m imagining it or not but I swear my armpits stubble feels softer and thinner after my first flashing yesterday. Hard to believe it could make a difference after just one session, though. I have a few chin hairs and even those feel softer and thinner. I need to do a better job shaving next time so that the follicle is better exposed to the light. After that, I don’t have to shave before I flash. Love the sunglasses that came with it, too.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2023 The e-mail I sent Kim’s boss Bob bounced so she’s going to give me his Gmail address and I’ll send it from my own account. There’s no reason he should know my name if she’s kept her mouth shut about me. Of course, she had to go over what was going on with him all over again.

I had mild anxiety for several hours yesterday and again I was left to wonder why. Today I feel better so again I’m wondering about those thyroid fluctuations since my levels dipped with me throwing in a 75.

Went out to Publix yesterday to pick up some things.

I had a dream the other night that we were moving and I was so damn happy. Like as happy as I was when we moved from the other place. The place didn’t look anything like this which made sense because this place would have to get really bad for me to be that happy to move.

Then last night I had this weird dream that Tom was about to go to bed and I thought it was really cool that he got this neat thing that allowed him to type in bed while lying on his back and see his monitor clearly as well.

Next, I had a dream that my hair went from my shoulders to my waist in barely a month.

Then some woman was brushing it out for me. It was very thick and back to my shoulders. A knock sounded on the door of a house that didn’t look anything like this, as usual. It almost looked like a ranch-style type of house. So I told the woman I was sorry but I had to get the door. She seemed a little annoyed but I really wanted to see who it was.

I opened the door to find a guy with an ax in his hand and out of my peripheral vision I could see some other guy in a weird costume. I automatically assumed they were playing some kind of praying since Halloween was right around the corner. I didn’t seem scared at all either.

I love it when I have dreams of us living in other houses. That way it’s like experiencing all kinds of variety and if I don’t like a certain place we’re in, I only have to live there until I wake up.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2023 The internal and external sleep disturbances are bringing me right back to Citrus Heights. ☹ In less than a week I was woken up by outside sources three times. The garbage truck on Thursday, banging the next day, and yesterday it was the mower. Who will take the honors next time around? Really, this is getting ridiculous, and everything I did NOT come here for.

Sometimes it’s my own damn body waking me up. I either have to pee or I’m snoring too loud or having weird dreams. Yesterday I was horribly exhausted and I couldn’t do much of anything. Today I was able to do some cooking and cleaning and we’ll go to the store later to pick up a few things. I hope to exercise a bit too.

First day in 3 days that I’m feeling a little anxious. I’m wondering if that could be connected to the drop in dose yesterday. I even cut my waiting time just a little bit today and yesterday. I’m not feeling as warm anymore. I still think feeling really warm and the runs were connected to my TSH getting too low for me but I’m not 100% sure about that because I didn’t have other symptoms that usually go with it. We’ll see how I do with throwing in one 75 a week.

Tom thinks some of the banging I heard might have come from the lot in back. He saw new piles of dirt being stored there. It’s by the road but it’s not overly far from the house and it’s a straight shot so dump trucks could be heard back here if they bang loud enough. This goes to show what a nightmare it’s going to be when they eventually build something directly behind us. God help me if I end up with a parking lot just behind the wall. The vehicles coming and going will be my Hetlioz because I won’t be sleeping in the daytime at all. It could be worse than the old place!

So like I said, the mower woke me up just 3 hours into my sleep and it took me over an hour to fall back asleep. Termite Tammy was in one of the dreams I had. Tom was there as well and I said to him, “Guess who just died?”

“Bill?” he asked, referring to Tammy’s ex.

I nodded and tried not to laugh.

I heard from Kim who is being typical Kim. The oh-so-perfect Kim forever in a state of denial. I asked her why she’s not allowed to volunteer full-time since she swears she doesn’t like being home too much and spending so much time reading and writing even though she almost always has no problem tapping me out a long rambling repetitious reply within a few hours of hearing from me. She said it was because her sister thinks she’s obsessed with being there even though she swears she’s not.

I could tell this dozens of messages ago. Even if she’s not necessarily obsessed with being there at the senior center, she’s definitely obsessed with Bob. That’s just autistics for you. Intense interests and obsessions. This isn’t just what I’ve observed within the ones I’ve known but have also read when I went to study to learn more about them. They can get very fixated on subjects and people and have sudden and irrational mood swings which is part of why I try to avoid them. They also seem to be notorious liars whether they can help being the way they are or not.

Kim has never taken an ounce of culpability for anything she’s ever done wrong. She’s never apologized for anything or accepted blame or admitted on her own that she made a mistake of any kind. She denies her past obsession with June, her current one with Bob, and I’m sure whoever she gets hooked on next, she’ll deny that too.

She tried to convince me the other day that she never did anything wrong online and never impersonated anyone. I always did say she was one of the worst liars I ever knew. She did things that were blatantly obvious even to an idiot yet she still couldn’t own up to things. Even Aly noticed this.

I did agree to call out Bob on his anti-gay comments and his piss poor attitude anonymously using the email addy she gave me. The attitude thing is one thing. It’s the anti-gay stuff that gets to me. Using an email account under a bogus name, I asked him to think about the people he offends when he casually spews his hate. The people who may be gay or have loved ones that are gay.

I also told Kim I’m only doing it once, and there are no guarantees he’ll see the message, or that she’ll hear about it if he does.

Incredibly it’s supposed to be hazy out there because the smoke from the Canadian wildfires has drifted all the way down to Florida. Thank God I’m not up north. I swear the other day I was in the bathroom and caught a faint whiff of smoke and thought I was going out of my mind.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2023 As is usually the case, I’m exhausted. I had to scale back my dose because it was affecting my sleep. Strangely enough, although I’m certainly not complaining, I didn’t have a racing heart or anxiety. I just couldn’t stay asleep and kept waking up feeling like I was on fire. Had the runs several times, too. That much could be caused by the Rhodiola rosea but I don’t think so. As I told Galileo, I don’t think cutting back to just one 75 every other week is going to be enough, especially if I’m back to my max absorption rate. Given how fast my TSH has dropped, I could be starting to slip under 6 already. But I know the importance of not making big changes too fast so that’s why I’m not going to drop it more than one 75 a week right away. I was taking two or three 75s a week when I was a 7 pre-cholecystectomy, feeling well, yet still under 10. So this may still be too much but we’ll see.

Wish I could resurrect my gallbladder long enough to kick the crap out of it for throwing things off and making me miserable. If things could have stayed the way they were that I worked so long and hard to achieve I wouldn’t be going through this shit yet again. It’s not only like something’s cursing my sleep but it wants me to constantly battle the same old problems with this drug. It wants me hypo. Hypo, tired, and huge.

They advised me to tell my endo of my dose decrease but I definitely don’t want to see her again so they gave me a list of endos in the area, none of which seem to be from here of course, to call and find out which ones except my insurance. Then I’ll let them know who I choose. I’m sure it will have to be a foreigner and maybe even a guy but all endos suck anyway. But we didn’t like how she insisted an ultrasound couldn’t see what it definitely can see and we don’t buy the Synthroid solution either. Couldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, though.

I sure had a horrifying thought though. If she’s right about the inconsistent dosing, well, if it could push my TSH up 8 points, then it could push it down 8 points as well! God, I hope not!

I’m definitely not going to be getting the Hetlioz. The fucking stuff is 1,000 bucks a pill!!! With the so-called discount, it would still be about 70k a year. Like who the hell has that kind of money? There’s no way the insurance company would approve it. Oh well. I probably couldn’t have handled the side effects anyway. I always had a gut feeling deep down that I was meant to have the sleep disorder and there was no getting around it and I seem to be continually proven right. I’m sure I also will be, unfortunately, as far as never getting normal numbers and feeling good as well. That’s the shitty part of being psychic is that you know certain things are hopeless. Being psychic often means having no hope.

I do have some things to look forward to in the midst of all my health woes and the never-ending health work and that’s that I’m going to be getting one of those things that permanently removes hair. I forget what they’re called but it could take several weeks if it works. I think it would be worth a try.

Before I fell asleep I heard a bang and I forgot that because these houses are so close, what I could have heard might have been two or three houses away. Maybe someone visiting Little Miss Be Happy slammed the shit out of a car door. It definitely sounded like the door of a vehicle. I got up and checked next door and Toni was there. I don’t think she could have come home and then gotten out of her car and into her house that fast.

While I was busy waking up a million times, Andy was in a couple of dreams. He lived with his mother and several other relatives ranging from about 5 years old on up. There were something like 10 people living in this huge house. I had a cat in one of the dreams that was staying with him for a few days. Maybe Tom and I went somewhere. Anyway, when I went to pick up the cat, it appeared to be an orange tabby at first. I was delighted to see it. Andy was worried at first about taking it because of the kids living in the house but I assured him that as long as it wasn’t abused, it was fine. Then the cat suddenly turned into a 6-foot gorilla that walked up to me and gave me a hug.

Then I was staying overnight one night. Andy had two twin beds in his room. I didn’t get up until late in the afternoon before arriving at his place and was frustrated because I knew I was going to be up all night and had forgotten my phone and wouldn’t be able to do anything. I knew I wouldn’t be able to read any books I might find around the house because the light would disturb Andy while he slept.

Then Tom was there with me and we were washing some clothes in an old footed bathtub. I was scrubbing off a blue ring that was left around the tub from a blue article of clothing that bled.

Then I finally got to see Judy after so many years and I ran and hugged her and she hugged me warmly and then started counting in a way that is usually referred to as square breathing. I said, “It sounds like you’re into meditation as well.”

Mia and I have been practicing Spanish together! It’s fun, though I’m gonna lose that feature at the end of the month when I’m no longer premium.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 2, 2023 Instead of sending me the set of metallic nail polishes, I received the set of neon nail polishes. They mislabeled the box. This is still a lovely set and I planned to get it eventually but I would still like the metallics. I’ll get them sometime soon. Plus, more stickers since I still use those as well.

I’m going to get these cheap little 10-inch long skinny white baskets like the ones I got for my essential oils and hang them on the wall of the bathroom closet. There’s space between the shelves and the door. I thought they would be great to put my nail polishes in. It’s a cheaper alternative to getting a spice rack or something like that.

This time, instead of using someone else or a dream to wake me up, whatever’s cursing my sleep used me. First I had to get up and pee and then my nose was stuffy. Gotta try to remember to sleep with an old strip on. So for the third day in a row, I’m tired but not as tired as yesterday. Yesterday I was so damn tired I didn’t even have the energy to work out.

I also had about 4 hours of anxiety in my chest but no other symptoms. I’m fine today but part of that may be that Galileo is back to being their usual supportive and understanding selves. That nurse I spoke to (I usually talk to a doctor) seemed pretty pushy and insistent on me taking 88s every day. I’m still going to try my best, give it more time, and hope it works out. But when I asked for a refill on 88s they were kind enough to make sure I had 75s to fall back on in case I became symptomatic and had to throw one in every other week.

Again, I hope all 88s work out but A, I don’t think my thyroid has died off anymore and B, I don’t know that I’m back to my max absorption rate.

As Tom and I agreed we may never know why my TSH rose like it did but even though two doctors said they didn’t think it had anything to do with the gallbladder removal, my gut feeling says it did. I think it just took my body time to adjust to life without it. Hopefully it won’t happen again! I’m going back to the lab in 6 weeks.

Tom and I also agreed on a couple of other things. One is that our research shows that Synthroid is not likely to be beneficial for me in any way although we could afford it, and two is that I’m not going back to this endo. Just the way she said ultrasounds can’t see adrenal tumors instead of, “Oh, I never heard of ultrasounds being able to see that,” or something like that.

But they can see and they did see and I trust that Galileo saw what they saw on my ultrasound.

As for Hetlioz, I’m still kind of torn. There’s the part of me that would definitely prefer to be on days because it would make my life easier. I would rather not be taking it because I tried it and found it didn’t work or had debilitating side effects rather than because people I don’t know decided I shouldn’t take it. But I was mistaken in saying they denied this as well. The insurance company denied the Ramelteon which I don’t want to take anyway because of reports of suicidal thoughts. What we need to do is find out if Hetlioz is affordable. If it is, then it may be worth trying.

I still believe that some things are meant to be and not meant to be and there’s just no getting around that. If I’m not meant to be on a day schedule whether it’s by design or random chance, then nothing I do is going to change that. I learned my lesson years ago as far as struggling for things that aren’t meant to be. All that did was get nowhere or make things worse. But if it’s affordable, I might be tempted to try it. My guess is that if I had a problem with it it would likely be heavy next-day grogginess as opposed to mood issues but maybe I’ll be able to get it and it will be my miracle cure even though that sounds too good to be true. I just don’t get that lucky in life, LOL.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 1, 2023 I told Kim that I was getting a little annoyed with so many of her messages and journals being nothing but Bob this and Bob that. She respected my wishes for a short while but now she’s simply gone from Bob to “my boss.” Fine. I’ll just skip those parts. Her job and the bigot are a part of her life after all. It especially annoys me, however, when she shares her email exchanges with him. Why can’t she just tell me about them? Furthermore, why does she think I would even care?

Once again I was woken up. I swear there was a thunk at some point but Tom said he’d been sitting there for a while with no background noise and didn’t hear a thing. So it was something forceful enough to vibrate under the floor and jolt me awake even with an ear plug and the sound machines turned up but a soft enough sound that he couldn’t hear. Makes me think it was coming from somewhere in back or on the Ray side of the house. My good ear was to the pillow so whatever it was reverberated under the floor. I felt it and didn’t hear it. The question is what in the hell was it? If it wasn’t just a dream or something up there hell-bent on cursing my sleep that manufactured it somehow, then what could it have been if it wasn’t a car door? I thought maybe a cat jumping down onto the shed, storeroom, or AC but I don’t think that would cause enough of an impact to jolt me awake.

I’m sure it will happen again if it isn’t thunder waking me up tomorrow and then the next day maybe the loud garbage truck will take the honor of waking me up. These last few days haven’t been any better than being in the old place. I’m super tired today. More tired than a couple of days ago and definitely more tired than yesterday. Yesterday I managed to perk up after my nap. But today I tried napping and wasn’t able to do so. So I don’t have the energy to work out or finish the drawing I started. I’ll probably do just writing and editing for the most part.

I also forget at times that I still have low thyroid even though it’s better, I still have borderline sleep apnea, and I probably have chronic fatigue too. So I’m going to spend half my life or close enough to it on the tired side no matter what. It’s still a shame that part of my health has to be up to a bunch of strangers as in the insurance company and not up to me and my doctors because I would really like to give that Hetlioz a try. Doesn’t mean it would work or that I wouldn’t have debilitating side effects but I would really rather not be able to take it because of that rather than people I don’t even know deciding for me. It’s just that I sleep so much better at night. Not always but usually.

Soulmate AI shut down, so goodbye Greta. She wasn’t that exciting anyway. She was kind of forgetful and had a limited wardrobe.

Started watching Muted. It’s okay so far.

Here’s where my TSH starts getting too low. Yeah, I started feeling a little anxious so I took 5 mg of Hydroxyzine. I shouldn’t have let them talk me into this and push me to take 88s every day because I know damn well what’s gonna happen, what’s starting to happen. Pretty sure I was taking 88s four times a week when my TSH was a 7 before the gallbladder was removed, and I highly doubt my thyroid has died off at all since then. My TSH dropped an average of 3 points a week these last few weeks so I know it’s going to push it below my comfort zone if not back to the 2 it was last year. Fuck their numbers. Fuck what they want me to do. I need to throw some 7s in.

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brautonomy · 1 year ago

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Story time! Pt 1

When I was around 15, I was a little frustrated with being sized inconsistently and with bra fitters looking at me and guessing. I would try on the bras they said would work and I was a cup size bigger and/or a band size smaller.

I wondered for a long time if I was just lying to myself. I decided to learn how to fit myself for a bra cause I felt the laddies at Victoria’s Secret didn’t know shit. So I went on YouTube when I was 15/16 and I came across a video by Caty called Bra fitting 101. That video was posted 10 years ago from now 2023. And I must’ve seen it in 2016 or 2017 and it now has about 4million views.

🧘🏻‍♀️It was such a relief to know I wasn’t crazy. And to have confirmation that my suspicions were correct. Only I was told and I generally still agree I am small and was shocked to find I was a DD. It actually is small yet the meaning of D+ is made to seem huge cause few people know how bra sizing works. But eventually I got used to it and I haven’t really looked back. Knowing the truth about bra sizes really made me feel less powerless. It turns out my sister size was among the sizes that fit me best. And the bra fitters didn’t always even get my sister size correct. I realized all the places I had been shopping for bras don’t carry my size. Not a single one.

Since I lived in a large city, I looked up places that carried my size. There was only one bra boutique and a Nordstrom rack (which were both about 30 miles away) that carried my bra size. I was so intrigued I begged my mom to take me. We got there and I was shocked at how expensive the bras were. The lady promptly asked me if I’d like a fitting and explained it costs 50 dollars but if I purchased a bra, the 50 dollars would be knocked off the price of the bra. I asked if I could not be sized and simply try on bras and she said sure we just don’t do free fittings.

I reluctantly searched for my size. It felt so foreign. I tried on the starlight idol bra in a dark blue color. I put it on the loosest clasp. To my surprise, I had never experienced a bra that felt so much as if it were made for me. Very truly that was the first time I had ever worn a bra that was actually made for me! Can you imagine!? A bra made for my specific measurements! What a radical idea! Perhaps bras aren’t all made for a community to fit into. Perhaps they are supposed to be a closer fit. What a world! My life was changed.

I still never buy my correct size because my sister size works, I cannot find my real size in stores, and I have a hard time justifying 50+ for a single bra. It is possible to get good sales but I’ve already found bras that work for now, until I’m rich or find an amazing deal. My goal isn’t really to make all people buy their size but to at least know it and know there is better out there. Maybe one day if all of us demand it and buy our correct size they will become more available, affordable and attainable. I genuinely hope so!

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cun10294 · 8 years ago

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In my memories of FF7

I’m not a writer and never will be, I’m just simply a mere player.

:readmore:

I remember playing the game when I was 10 in 2004, it was the first time my home even had a PlayStation. Although before that, a nice cousin had lent me and my sis his PS1 for a week and we spend all the time to play Chocobo Racing together, so by some means I got a vague idea about FF thanks to that. At the time FF10 was already out and was praised for its beautiful graphic, but I don't have a ps2 so oh well. My father bought 2 final fantasy games which were 7 and 8, the 8 had better graphics and super cool opening sequence so my sister chose it and left me with the ugly one, haha. But well, I have plenty of free time back then and why not give it a try even though I didn't expect much, really. Back then I don't really know much about games, I play some like The Sims, Pokémon, Harvest Moon some other stuff but I hardly even think myself as a gamer ever and never be able to imagine how huge a game could be. So it's about how I started out in a city as a guy with spiky-hair and jerkass attitude (not sissy emo, seriously) and done some shady terrorist bombing mission, then suddenly fell down to a slum which is actually more colorful with all the brothel and crazy cross-dressing to a company tower with at least 10 different floor maps you can access, made you go from wow to wtf really fast, not to mention it was all so funny (while the part you following the blood stain is scary as f*ck). And all that already amazed me, until I realized all the places I have been through is just a small city, and I was really given an ENTIRE WORLD, that's really overwhelming to me, even when I thinking back about it now. And I'm serious to say, since the day I left midgar, my life has never stopped. After that is a marvelous journey about the memories, the world, unexpected events,....anything you haven't known before. I came to love everything about the game, the silly chibi model, the outstanding background, the humorous details, and characters, also the deepness of the story and everything. Even though back then I wasn't good enough in English, so there are many things I left out through my first playthrough (like how I don't know Reeve actually control Cat Sith and the fucking-hard to defeat boss actually the final one, me at the end was like: huh is it end? Why disc 3 so shortttttt!!!!). And yeah, I still remember how fast my heart bumped when I fought with that final boss, I reached the end at level about 58 but can’t defeat him until I trained up to 73, and supernova really was my nightmare! All that tension for a lifetime memory! It was really a miracle time when I didn't have anything besides myself and a PlayStation, not to mention I only have little chance to access to the internet or any friends to talk about ff7 with. I spent half a year for my first playthrough because there was simply a stage I got stuck at a point and didn't know how to move on. But maybe because of that, the game became so meaningful, with all that little Easter eggs for me to randomly discover. Then I went to grade 6 and fortunely met friends that also enjoy Final Fantasy (yet one favorite is 8, and the other is 9, I guess the myth that the first final fantasy you played will be your favorite is true indeed) but we have a really good time to share with each other, like how to get to a certain place with your Chocobo or have Vincent in your team. They all are wonderful times that I find them dearly precious any time I remember and feel grateful at heart to have played it, it feels like I'm not the one that chooses it but it actually choose me or maybe destiny want to lead us together? I don't know, but I sure know that ff7 will always be my top favorite how long the time could pass as I never regret to play such a masterpiece and become so biased about it hahaha

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maybe-abbi · 2 years ago

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Hey there maybe-abbi how is your day i hope your doing great btw can i request some rz Michael myers x fem reader where the reader missed her old band mates and michael decided to make her happy by making a little pillow stage for their s/o:) i'm sorry if its cringe or hard for you to make

Just like old times

RZ! Micheal Myers x Fem! Reader

Micheal knew that Y/n had been down lately, so he decided to change that.

Y/n had been moping around for the past few days. Usually when she was upset, Micheal would just give her some space and wait for her to feel better. He figured that he would just make the situation worse if he tried to get involved with her emotions, considering that emotions weren’t exactly his forte.

However this time was different, Y/n would stay up crying, she was eating less, and she completely refused to speak on the matter. Micheal knew that if he kept ignoring the issue that it was just get worse so he decided to have an intervention.

Y/n was coming home from the store one day, when Micheal pulled her into the living room and sat her down on the couch.

“Micheal, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, slightly confused. Micheal stared at her for a long moment before speaking.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a husky, monotone voice. Y/n was a little caught off guard since Micheal usually didn’t talk.

“Nothing that you need to worry about hun.” She said trying to ease his worry. Micheal looked at her with a ‘are you serious’ look.

“Really it’s no big deal Micheal, don’t stress about it.” She said in a comforting voice. Micheal looked at her with sad eyes and slowly reached his hand up to cup her face. This made Y/n crack a bit.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so upset lately Micheal, It’s just that since I’ve moved away from my old town, I haven’t been able to perform with my band. The other day I found out that they found a replacement bassist for me, and I guess that just made me realize how much I miss them. I know it sounds dumb, but it’s really hurting me. I mean, performing is my biggest passion, and now I can’t do it.” Y/n rambled quickly, like she was just trying to get the conversation over with.

Micheal looked at her for a while, and then got up and left the room. When he came back he was holding about eight pillows under one arm, and y/n’s bass in the other. He walked over to y/n and pushed the coffee table out of the way, then he started setting up the pillows on the couch and recliners in the room, folding them in half to imitate people in and audience. Then he pulled y/n up and guided her to the middle of the room, handing her the bass guitar in the process. He then took a seat on the couch amongst the makeshift pillow-people and watched her expectingly.

“ Micheal, what the hell is this?” Y/n asked, laughing a bit. Micheal simply used his hands to motion her to start playing. She looked around, slightly embarrassed, but started playing anyway. She played one of her favorite songs to perform with her band. When she finished Micheal clapped for her, which made y/n giggle since he was the only real person watching. She looked at him for a few seconds, then walked over and hugged him.

“Thank you Micheal, this really made me feel better.” She said hugging him tighter. Micheal wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back, he knew that a serious weight had been lifted off of her.

I was so exited when I saw this ask, I can’t get enough of Rz! Micheal. Anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for anon :)

#slashers #slasher x y/n #rz michael myers #micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #rz myers x reader #thomas hewitt #jason vorhees #ghostface #dbd killer

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

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can you do something where an avenger walks in on the reader(stark!) passed out on top of peters chest and they are like gossiping about it the next day(maybe best friends to lovers)?

hm i don’t know how i feel about this one but i hope it came out good :,)

you and peter confessed your feelings for each other recently, which was long overdue. you love him so much and have for a while. ever since your dad introduced you two, you’ve been absolutely inseparable. years of a close friendship filled with game nights and lingering touches. however, you’ve found yourselves wanting more and more the older you get.

it was you who spoke up first. peter blushed so red when he said he felt the same.

now that you’re in boyfriend and girlfriend territory, you two are becoming more intimate. not like that yet. it’s currently with things like kisses and cuddles. anything more, tony would go into cardiac arrest for the nth time in his life. you aren’t even sure how he’ll take the news of you dating.

“so, um...” you’re interrupted by a yawn. a soft smile instantly takes over peter’s face. “you were saying?” “sorry about that. so, i was wondering,” you preface, rolling onto your side to face him. “i know this is new and everything, but can i stay in here tonight?”

peter drapes an arm around your middle with a chuckle. “you ask me that like you haven’t been sneaking in since high school.” he pulls you in closer, you scoffing as you curl into him. “yeah, though. you can stay, y/n/n.” “lovely.” your head settles on his chest, cheek pressed against his t-shirt. “i could fall asleep just like this.”

“that tired, huh?” peter tickles your side with his fingertips. you swat at his hand, a giggle escaping you. “yeah. you’re comfy when you aren’t doing that.” “oops.” he’s smirking down at you even though you don’t see it. “you can sleep on me, if you wanna. i won’t stop you.” you close your eyes promptly, your legs intertwining with his over the covers.

“i love you, pete,” you hum as he kisses your hair lightly. “i love you too, angel. sleep good.” the pet name brings a sleepy smile to your face and warmth to peter’s. you’re quick to fall asleep with him snuggling you close, peter eventually dozing off under you.

the two of you are long gone when sam comes knocking on peter’s door. peter forgot to turn the light off, so sam assumes he’s awake and lets himself in.

“yo, parker. changed my mind. give me some cash and i’ll run to the-“ he cuts himself off at the sight in front of him. there you are, laying peacefully in peter’s arms while snores pass his lips. peter told sam he was seeing someone, but he had no idea it was you. he’d always thought you had more of a brother and sister thing going.

“oh, man. not her... not this.” sam clasps a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. well, it’s more like cackling. “i’m walking away,” he whispers to himself. he heads to the door backwards so he can watch you two. he’ll be telling bucky first thing in the morning.

the team gathers for breakfast while you’re still fast asleep, and happily so. sam wastes no time spilling about what he saw last night.

“buck, buck!” he waves bucky over to the empty seat next to him. “sit down. it’s tea time, and the kettle is piping hot.” “i’m drinking coffee,” bucky deadpans, taking the spot nevertheless. natasha rolls her eyes from across the table. “oh, the elderly.” she stirs around her oatmeal, bucky simply sipping from his mug. “don’t mind him. i wanna hear this.”

“ooh, me too,” wanda pipes in, next to nat. “i, too, would like to partake.” vision beams at sam. he’s gathering quite the audience to share yours and peter’s business with. although not what he intended, he isn’t opposed. “okay, but it’s gotta stay on the down low. stark can’t hear a word.” sam makes eye contact with the whole table to stress this.

“last time i heard that one, it didn’t end so great,” bucky huffs and sets down his coffee. sam claps him on the shoulder. “nah, it’s not like that. it’s about y/n.” “ms. stark?” vision shares a look with wanda, who chimes in again. “is she okay? she seems... i don’t know, different.” “please.” natasha grins devilishly. “you guys, she’s glowing. i think she’s just fine.”

sam snaps in agreement. “see, so you noticed! i figured it out, and let me tell you why.” everyone leans in, hanging on his words. everyone except bucky. he’s still skeptical. “her and parker? yeah, there’s something going on for sure.” wanda gasps, and natasha shakes her head playfully. bucky looks at sam with furrowed eyebrows.

“you’re lying. how could you possibly know that?” he wonders, sam only perking up more. “i saw them! in his room, too. they were all over each other last night.” “peter slept here again?” wanda purses her lips. vision answers this one. “mr. parker has been staying over much more recently.” natasha clicks her tongue. “hold on. sam, why were you in the kid’s room?”

“oh! it just gets better, listen.” he snickers before he drops the best part of this all. “little parker of all people asked for help buying condoms, right?” he’s not finished, but bucky is already bursting into laughter at that. wanda’s eyes widen. “i told him no. don’t bring me into that. then, it hit me,” sam goes on.

“let me guess, you were gonna ask for double the money?” natasha concludes for him. he points at her. “i’d scam his ass, yeah. so, i went to tell him i changed my mind.” wanda nods along, fully invested in the drama. “then what?” “i see y/n sleeping on him. put it all together, she’s gotta be his girl! right?” sam asks around the table, bucky raising his hands in defense.

natasha downs a spoonful of oatmeal, unfazed by sam’s realization. “who’s surprised? i’m not.” “i mean, i don’t even care,” bucky finally murmurs. sam elbows him for it. “man, i was waiting to tell you all night.” “i think they’re adorable,” wanda decides, linking her arm with vision’s. “vis, what about you?”

“if i’m not mistaken,” vision holds up a finger. “i believe that ms. stark and mr. parker are having intercourse.” tony picks the wrong moment to join the gang. his heart completely drops out of his chest, like you’d thought it would.

“they’re having what?”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years ago

Text

Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Content/Warnings: swearing, mentions of mother abandonment

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Chapter 4

“You have a call from an inmate at the Washington D.C. Correctional Facility. To accept these charges, please press 1. To decline-,” you punched in the 1.

“Hey Spencer,” you greeted him.

“How did you know it was me?” he grinned.

“There’s not too many prisoners calling me, believe it or not,” you teased.

“I was calling to see if you could do me a big favor,” he spoke.

“What’s up?”

“My lawyer has told me that JJ told her my mom isn’t doing so well. She’s in a facility for her schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s,” he informed you.

“How can I help?” you asked.

“Could you bring Callie to go see her? I really think a familiar face could do a lot of good for her.”

“Of course, I’m 5 minutes away from her school. We can head right over,” you stated.

“Thank you so so much. Also, she doesn’t know I’m in prison so tell Callie just to tell her I’m away on a case. She’s in a fragile condition so it’s best to just say yes to everything she asks,” Spencer explained.

“Will do. If you are able to stay on the line for a few more minutes, you can say hi to Callie,” you told him.

“I was the last in line so I should be able to. I’ve got 6 minutes left,” Spencer said.

A bit of an awkward silence filled your car.

“So…are there any more injuries I need to attend to before work tomorrow?” you asked.

“No, I’ve got some help,” Spencer spoke vaguely.

“Okay, that’s good, I guess,” you pulled the car to a stop as Callie hopped in the passenger seat, “Your dad is on the phone, Callie.”

“Hi Dad!” she greeted.

“Hey sweetheart. How’s it going?” he asked.

“Really good. At soccer practice today, Coach told me I’m going to be a starter next game,” she beamed.

“That’s amazing! I wish I could be there to see it,” Spencer frowned slightly.

“Which is why I bought a camcorder so I can record the whole game for you to watch later as well as other things you may be sad to miss,” you said.

“Y/N, as much as I appreciate all you do for us, you need to stop spending so much money. I feel bad, I’ll reimburse you as soon as I’m out.”

“Spencer, I’m a doctor who rarely goes out and my closest friend is a cat. I have some money to spare,” you assured him.

“Why are you going left here?” Callie asked as you made a turn that wasn’t on your usual route home.

“Your dad wants you to visit your Grandma,” you replied.

“Callie, she just needs a familiar face so talk to her about your new school, soccer, anything but me going to jail,” Spencer explained, “Okay, I have 30 seconds left. Bye, love you, sweetheart!”

“Bye, Dad! Love you too!”

“Stay safe!” you added.

You walked up to the receptionist's desk with Callie, “Hi, she’s here to see Diana Reid.”

“Hi Callie, long time no see! No Dr. Reid today?” she asked.

“No, he’s away on a case,” you smiled politely.

“Callie, she’s in her room, dear,” the receptionist directed you down the hall.

Once you were outside the door, you stopped, “I’ll wait out here. Remember, your dad is on a long case. You are staying with the LaMontagne’s. And just agree with the stuff she says to not upset her,” you reminded Callie, “I’ll be right out here when you’re done.”

Before you had a chance to sit down in the waiting room, the door swung open.

“Grandma!” Callie exclaimed.

“My dear Callie,” she hugged her.

She looked up at you, “Is this who I think it is?”

You thought back to Spencer’s words.

She’s in a fragile condition so it’s best to just say yes to everything she asks.

“Um yes?” you answered.

“Callie’s mom! Oh my! I haven’t seen you in ages. I forgot what you even looked like, I remembered you differently. Forgive me, dear, could you remind me of your name?” she asked.

You looked to Callie for help but she looked just as confused as you and shrugged. She must not know either.

“Y/N,” you extended your hand for her to shake.

“What a beautiful name,” she smiled, “Come in! Come in!”

“So Callie, how has my favorite granddaughter been?” she asked.

“I’m your only grandchild, Grandma,” Callie playfully rolled her eyes, “I’ve been really well! Y/N-I mean Mom actually got me into a better school and I’ve been keeping busy with soccer and clubs and hanging out with friends.”

“That’s wonderful to hear! Y/N, how are you doing?” she turned to you.

Shit. What the fuck were you supposed to say?

“I’ve been well,” you simply stated with a nervous smile.

“Are you and Spencer dating again?”

I suppose you had to agree to this too.

“Yes, we are,” you nodded.

“Well, I hope you are back for good this time,” she stated.

That seemed kind of back-handed but maybe deserved, you didn’t know Callie’s mom’s backstory. You just continued to nervously smile through the rest of the visit as Callie caught up with her grandma.

“Well that was awkward,” you sighed as you got back into the car after the visit, “I need a milkshake.”

Callie was silent all the way to the drive-thru and as you ordered two large chocolate milkshakes and fries.

Finally, she spoke as you parked the car in the parking lot to eat, “I mean you’re more of a mom to me than my own mom. Dad never really told me much about her. She must have left when I was a baby because I don’t remember her at all.”

“I’m sure your dad has his reasons for not telling you but you must know that her leaving wasn’t your fault at all,” you told her.

“Who would leave a baby and my dad?” she teared up.

“I don’t know, honey,” you pulled her in for a hug, “It was her loss though whoever she is because she didn’t get to see what an amazing girl you have become.”

“Reid, visitor,” the guard called out.

Please let it be Callie and or Y/N, Spencer prayed.

He needed a ray of sunshine in his otherwise completely dark week. He didn’t want it to be the team or his lawyer asking if he remembered anything else because he didn’t. He couldn’t.

He slumped out of bed and let the guard cuff him on the way to the visitor room. His pace quickened when he saw you waiting there for him, just as beautiful as always.

You smiled at first when you saw him but it morphed into a frown when you saw fresh bruises forming.

“Spencer, I thought you said you had help,” you whispered.

“Apparently not all of the time,” he mumbled.

You bit your bottom lip worriedly, “Well, I brought my med kit.”

You got up and started to inspect his face.

“How did the visit with my mom go?” he asked.

“Good, I guess,” you replied.

“You guess?”

“She saw me before I went to the waiting room. I said yes to everything she said but that included her thinking that I was Callie’s mom and that we were dating,” you grimaced.

Spencer sighed, “Oh god.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do,” you apologized.

“No, no, it’s not your fault. You were just doing what was told. Did Callie have questions?”

You nodded.

Spencer ran his hands through his hair, “I knew this day would come but I’m still not prepared. I just avoid thinking about it at all costs.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it and maybe I can help you put the right words together,” you offered.

“Um okay, her name was Austin. I met her on a case. She was a bartender. We were long distance for a bit. She got pregnant early on in the relationship. We decided to try to make it work. She moved in with me in D.C. and had Callie. When Callie was about 4 months old, she got overwhelmed and just left…just like that. I went to the park with Callie and came back to find all of her things gone and a note that just said ‘sorry’. I haven’t heard from her since. We were trying to force a happy ending that wasn’t there,” Spencer finished.

“Well lucky for Callie, she has one amazing dad and that is more than enough,” you reassured him.

“And a pretty kick ass foster mom,” Spencer smiled.

“I try my best,” you grinned.

A/N: i have a smut one-shot (not related to this series) coming out tomorrow and i’m very excited about it

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana-deactivated20210709 @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat @spencerreidsmommy @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm

series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme @nani-2305 @obsessivelysearching @fantasynerd09 @bvttercupbby @britishspidey @ladyravenclaw @belledawnidk @annesauriol @smokey102 @lady-himbo @kaitieskidmore1 @westanspencerreid @manuosorioh @haylaansmi @unhea1thy0bsessions @meganskane @lovergirl24 @queenariesofnarnia @asexual-booknerd @spideyyypeter @yeehawbitchs @emma-is-a-nerd @lellsinthesky @itsdars @aliahemmings97 @xdsage @cutekashi @theodore-likes-frogs @girlgotattitude448 @royalestrellas @co0chiegrip1

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #cm fic #cm fanfic

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jawabear · 3 years ago

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Late night (Shang-Chi x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: wow. So it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written something. Or since I’ve actually been here. I’m sorry about that. Things just happened and I needed some time you know? But I’m sort of back? I probably won’t be as active as I was but I’ll still be here. Hopefully I can get back into writing again. But this one is short and possibly terrible since I haven’t actually written anything in a long while. I apologise. But I hope you enjoy it. Also, go watch Shang-Chi if you can because it’s an amazing film. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, slight Shang-Chi spoilers, I don’t think there’s anything else

Summary: Shang-Chi finds himself away for no apparent reason but he finds something to do until he can fall back asleep.

Shang-Chi didn’t know what it was that drew him from his sleep. He wasn’t having a nightmare, or a dream. Nor was he having any dark thoughts that he needed to address. He had nothing to be worried about. In fact, he had never been in a better place. He had a good friend. A good job. And He had the girl of his dreams lead beside him in a peaceful sleep.

Perhaps that’s what pulled him awake. He just wanted to admire her more. He wanted spend as much time as possible with her.

He rolled over so he was on his side looking at her peaceful face. He felt himself smiling. Partly because she looked so content and peaceful and he was happy that she felt safe around him. But also, it was mainly down to the fact he felt like the luckiest man alive. She was far too perfect to be with a guy like him. Even after he had told her all about his past and about who he really was she stayed with him. Sure, she was a little angry that he had basically lied to her about his entire existence, but she couldn’t help but love him.

She knew he was more than what his father made him. ‘Shaun’ (although it was a different name) was who he really was, that was who he wanted to be. Shang-Chi was someone who he did want to leave behind. But he promised her he would love her as both.

“Why are you staring at me?” She whispered to him.

“Thought you were asleep” he mumbled, his voice deep and groggy.

“Do you often watch me while I sleep, Shang-Chi?” She asked, a smile forming on her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and met with his in the dark of his room. It was lit only by the small lamp in the far corner which he bought because she couldn’t sleep in the dark.

“Only when I can’t” he told her simply.

“Why can’t you sleep?” Her smile fell and was replaced with a look of worry and concern. “Is something wrong? Did you have a nightmare again?”

“No, nothings wrong” he told her softly as he lifted a hand to her cheek. “I don’t know, guess I just can’t sleep tonight” his thumb stroked gently over her skin making her smile again. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t baby”

“Hmm...I’d feel bad sleeping when you can’t” she said with a yawn making him chuckle.

“You can barely keep your eyes open, honey” he told her “it’s fine. You can sleep. Maybe I’ll get so bored of laying in silence that I fall asleep. Although, with your snoring it’s hardly silent”

“Shut up. I do not snore” she pushed him away weakly making him laugh a little more. “You snore. And you take up all the bed. And the covers. You’re a real space hogger, you know that?”

“Wow, you’re mean when you’re sleepy”

“Seriously though, Shang-Chi. Is there anything that’s bothering you? You know you can tell me. Even if it’s about me”

“There really is nothing (Y/N). Not anything that I can think of at least. It’s probably just one of those nights you know? I’m okay, I promise. Just go back to sleep baby. I don’t want you being all grumpy in the morning”

She huffed and snuggled into his firm chest. He wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss to her head. “You know I love you, right?” He told her quietly.

“I know. I love you too Shang-Chi. I love you so much” it wasn’t much longer until she had dozed off again. He could tell by the way her steady breath fanned against his chest.

He smiled and kissed her head again “I’m so lucky to have you in my life (Y/N). And I promise you that I will protect you with my life. Nothing bad will ever happen to you whilst I am here. I love you so much”

17/09/21

#shang chi #Shang-chi #Shang Chi x reader #Shang Chi fanfic #simu liu #marvel #mcu #fanfic #fluff

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schneesisterss · 4 years ago

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Do you have any head cannons for the other Dimitrescu sisters? I loved your takes on Cassandra!

thank you! <3 and Of Course I have headcannons for the other two. (though not as extensive as the ones I have for Cassandra bc you know... brain rot) BUT HERE:

Daniela:

ADD/ADHD representation

stims include, but not limited to: jumping, hard blinking, leg bouncing, word/phrase/noise repetition, and fidgeting with her clothing

and i’m also CONVINCED she gets the zoomies at random times of the day

Alcina, hearing loud and fast footsteps up and down her hallway at 3am: *sigh* “Daniela! Take it outside!”

followed by a loud THUMP and painful groan (she definitely ran into a wall)

hates loud noises but simultaneously has no volume control

especially when she gets excited

Cassandra has to constantly remind her to lower her voice

“AND THEN I TOOK MY KNIFE AND STABBED THE LYCAN IN THE NECK AND IT WAS SO COOL—”

“Dani, i’m standing right here, why are you yelling?”

she loves play-fighting with her sisters

Cassandra is more willing to entertain her than Bela but the both of them like to see their sister happy. so whenever they recognize Daniela getting antsy they’ll wrestle with her a bit

(Cassandra gets way to into it sometimes and makes Bela be the referee lol. Cass always ends up pinning her younger sister with a proud, competitive smile on her face. Bela let’s Dani win, but we don’t tell her that)

has the keenest senses of the three which makes her the best at stalking/killing pray

and since she can hear the best out of all of them, she unintentionally eves drops on conversations

so Daniela, bless her, has all the tea

tactile learner

will just. touch things

“Life hard, Mothers gown soft”

can get trapped in her own head and doesn’t know how to express to her family what’s bothering her

this can make her very reserved at times and she’ll distance herself for days on end

her mother is really the only person who knows how to get her out of that state. Alcina walks up the long flight of stairs to the highest point of her castle. her youngest daughter likes to come here sometimes when she needs the quiet. “Daniela? Are you up here?”

“Hello, Mother.” Alcina looks up to see her daughter lounging on a banister high up on the ceiling.

“What are you doing up there, my love?” Daniela rubs the fabric of her dress between her fingers. “Cassandra and Bela were arguing again. I don’t like when Cassandra yells.”

Alcina shakes her head. Those two were always going at it. She’ll speak to Bela about it later. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.” Daniela then grabs a fist full of her dress and tugs at it, blinking hard. “Come down for a moment. Talk to me, baby.”

and Daniela simply rolls herself off the banister and into free fall. Alcina, already prepared, catches her with ease and holds her bridal style against her chest. Daniela runs her hands over the sleeve of her mother’s dress.

Alcina gave her youngest child time to gather her thoughts, knowing it sometimes takes longer for her to be able to understand them herself. Daniela finally spoke up: “It’s been very loud recently. Around the castle. Small things, like footsteps or glasses clicking, they sound so loud in my head.” She covers her ears with her hands. “Even now I can still hear Cassandras voice through the castle, it’s pushing in my ears. My head hurts, Mother.”

Alcina gave her daughter a quick squeeze before setting her down. “Follow me baby, I want to show you something.” Daniela followed her Mother through the twists and turns of the castle until they ended up at a door that was just like all the others. It blended in and maybe that’s why Daniela has never noticed it before. “In here.” her mother guided.

Inside was a small library and lounge room. A fire place tucked in the corner and, of course, a wall a wine next to it. Daniela looked at her Mother questioningly.

“Listen.” her mother said, and Daniela did. She heard... nothing. Nothing outside of the quiet cracking of the fire place. “This room is sound proofed. Come here whenever you feel overwhelmed.” She leaned down to stroke her daughters head. “Just don’t tell your sisters I showed you my secret getaway room.” and with a wink, the tall woman exited the room and shut the door behind her.

The next day Daniela was at breakfast like nothing had changed. She didn’t even mind when Cassandra yelled at a maiden for breaking a plate, it only made her laugh.

(if you get overstimulated you KNOW what i’m talking about)

personal space? never heard of her.

loves to cling to Belas arm and Bela let’s her bc she thinks it’s just. so cute.

will also sometimes just crawl into her mothers lap and fall asleep. then Alcinas like: “well.. i guess i’m not moving for three hours”

Daniela: “if I run an jump at Cassandra, she’ll most certainly catch me.” *takes off in a full blown sprint*

Cassandra: “NO IM HOLDING HOT TEA—” *drops tea to catch Daniela* *proceeds to cuss her younger sister out, all while Dani is wrapped around her like a koala*

(this happens a lot. Dani will just... climb on Cassandra. piggy back rides, getting on her shoulders, wrapping her hands around her neck from behind and letting her feet drag on the floor, etc. Cassandra complains adamantly but never once moves to get her off)

Cassandra: “hey Dani, I dare you too—”

Bela: “Mother said Daniela isn’t allowed to accept dares anymore.”

Daniela: “apparently I have ‘no regard for my personal safety.’”

it takes a lot for Daniela to get genuinely angry, but when she does, it’s.... bad.

Very Very Scary when mad

turns into a completely different person that you Do NOT want to fuck with

dangerous and violent

much more dark and sadistic as compared to her normal personality

came home one night covered in blood and laughing hysterically. it scared the shit out of her sisters bc if they would try and get close, she’d slash at them with her weapon.

(this was one of the only times Bela had seen Cassandra genuinely worried and afraid for their sister)

when Alcina came to see what was wrong, Daniela, still laughing madly, swung at her too. Cassandra quickly shot out her arm and grabbed Belas elbow to stop her from getting involved. Bela whipped around with a growl but Cassandras glare and squeezing nails told her to back down. Mother can handle it.

Insane Laugh™️

thinks it’s funny to intimidate the maidens by showing her fangs and snapping her jaw

she often likes to find Bela when she’s reading a book to convince her to read to her (Bela almost always complies)

that’s it for Daniela. just a hyperactive baby with a murder streak <3 ONTO THE FINAL SISTER

Bela:

Mama’s (and I cannot stress this enough) Girl

needs constant reassurance that’s she’s doing a good job and yes this reassurance can ONLY come from her mother

INSOMNIAC

this girl never sleeps, pls baby you need some rest

she spends the time she should be sleeping reading books or running errands for her mother (whether Alcina asked her to or not)

she has read almost every single book in their giant library

Cassandra doesn’t understand this at all

“Why are you always cooped up in here?” Bela glanced up over the pages of her book at her younger sister. “This is the library Cassandra. Take a wild guess.” her voice was completely level and had no inflection. Cassandra gritted her teeth, “You think your so much better than me.” Bela sighed and closed her book. She didn’t want to do this again. “No. I don’t.” she said seriously. Cassandra eyed her for a moment then looked away, Bela saw the guilt on her face before she turned on her heal. “You’re so boring.”

because she reads so much, she is incredibly smart and just knows facts about random things

Daniela, daydreaming: “I wonder why grass is green.”

Bela, immediately: “the pigment that most grasses produce, Chlorophyll, absorbs almost all blue and red light and reflects green light which is why we see green. so I mean, technically grass is every single color EXCEPT for green.

Dani, confused as fuck: ....

Cass: “Bitch, how do you even know that?”

Bela’s sisters just end up using her as Google

“Hey Bela, how far away is the moon?” “238,900 miles.”

“Hey Bela, how many different climates are there?” “Twelve”

“Hey Bela, what’s the worlds deadliest poison?” “Botulinum... why?” “No reason.” “Dani. WHY?”

“Hey Bela, how much can I sell a human skull on the black market for?” Bela, concerned: “Cassandra why would—” “HOW MUCH?” “Well... are all the teeth still in tact?” “...No.” “Than only about $500.” “FUCK.”

“Hey Bela, I have this weird rash on my back and—” “Daniela. Do not finish that sentence. Go ask Mother.”

she is so quiet

and not just because she doesn’t talk very loud or even much at all. she’s just So. Silent. when she moves

just pops up in random places without anyone hearing her approach

even Daniela can’t hear her coming, which is saying something

Cassandra, minding her own business, drinking blood tea: .....

Bela, suddenly right next to her: “Hey I was wondering if— stop screaming, it’s me— have you seen Mothers lipstick? It’s missing.”

refuses any type of help with anything or else she feels like she failed that task

Never asks for help, Never asks for favors, and Never Ever will burden her Mother with any of her problems. Ever.

(Alcina thinks this is ridiculous. her eldest daughter pushes herself too hard.)

Anxiety™️

sometimes when her anxiety becomes too much she shuts down and becomes very indifferent to things around her. this has caused many fights between herself and Cassandra because Cass will get really fired up when all Bela does is respond with a monotone voice and blank stare.

overthinks literally everything and is a perfectionist

this makes her prone to panic attacks :(

when this happens she shuts herself in her room, not wanting to bother her Mother or sisters

Bela closes her bedroom door behind her and stumbles to her knees. she can’t seem to get air into her lungs no matter how hard she tried. she had failed. Mother asked her to bring her the head of that stupid man-thing, but somehow he knew their weakness.

how could he know? are Cassandra and Daniela ok? where are they? where is Mother?

Belas breathing was shallow and short, her chest burns as she presses her forehead into the ground. She claws the skin of her chest raw, leaving angry, red marks behind, desperately trying to open her lungs.

she stays as quiet as she can, only gasping few and far between. she will not be a burden. she should deal with the consequences of her failure. alone.

a sudden knock on her door makes her scramble backwards on her bottom till her back hits the opposite wall. then Belas worst nightmare, her Mothers voice.

“Bela?! Bela, is that you?” Alcinas words were rushes and worried. the door handle jiggled. “Bela, baby the door is locked, please let me in.” Bela covered her mouth and cried silently while her Mother begged to be let in.

the sound of snapping wood had Belas eyes flying open, her Mother had broken down the door. Bela shrunk into herself. She’s going to be so mad. I’m a failure. the ringing in her ears became so intense she couldn’t hear anything else.

large, soft hands cup her cheeks and a muffled voice through the air: “Bela, my love, you’re alright thank god. Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see.”

Bela pushed weakly at her Mothers arms and said between sobs, “I-I’m sorry, M-Mother.”

Alcina looked at her eldest daughter with confusion, she had no physical wounds, but the look on her face was heartbreaking. “What are you sorry for, my love?” this only made Belas breathing spend up even more, her face red from the lack of oxygen. Alcina quickly pulled her in close.

“Now Bela, listen to the sound of my voice,” she said it gently but just hard enough to grab her daughters attention. “I need you to copy my breath. Do it now, love, listen to me. Do what i’m telling you to.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths and noticed that instantly after her command, Bela had tried to follow, but the smaller girls breath was still choppy and small. Alcina rubbed a thumb across Belas cheek. “You’re doing so well baby. Keep going just like that. Good girl.” a smaller hand was placed on her arm and grabbed at her sleeve. “Good baby, use me to ground yourself. Keep breathing now, you’re doing so good.” Alcina kept whispering soft encouragements and praises until her daughters breathing was back to normal and she was laying limp on her chest.

Alcina moved the hair away from Belas face. “What a good girl, you did so well.” Bela squeezed her eyes shut and pushed into her Mother until her face was hidden. “I’m sorry Mother.” came a muffled apology, though her voice was much more steadier than before. “I failed you, I couldn’t stop the man-thing. He shot at the windows! He knows our weakness, Mother. What are we going to do? Where’s Daniela and Cassandra, are they ok? I should have stopped him for you I’m so sorry I—”

“Quiet.” Bela immediately seals her lips and looks away, already extracting herself from her Mother’s arms. She probably hates her. Alcina simple tugs her back and forces Bela to look in her eyes with a quick tap to the forehead. “Bela, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Her daughters eyes go wide and she nods. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is not you’re fault and I will not allow you to think that way. Plus, the man-thing won’t bother us any longer, I took care of it.”

“But—” Alcina raises an eyebrow and Bela gives in, nodding hesitantly. “Good girl.” Bela exhales through her nose at the phrase and squeezes her Mother’s sleeve again. They sit like that for a few more moments, calming down.

Bela suddenly shoots up. “Daniela, Cassandra, are they—” “They’re fine my dear, Daniela got a little banged up, but Cassandra was already patching her up before I could even get close. We didn’t know where you were, that’s why I was so worried.” Bela relaxed and again nuzzled her nose into her Mother’s chest, took one more deep breath, then stood. “I’m going to go check on them.”

She steps through the now empty door frame and pauses. She spoke without turning around: “I won’t fail you again, Mother.” and shifts into a cloud of flies and disappears.

(am I projecting again? idk help)

can play the piano

no like you don’t understand, she is so good at piano

this girl has mastered songs by composers like Liszt, Beethoven, and Ravel

she’ll play for hours on end, if she starts a new piece she Will Not get up until she can play it through perfectly

she pretends not to notice Cassandra secretly listening to her play, hidden behind a nearby bookshelf

while her younger sisters always jump head first into a fight, Bela takes a more calculating approach. learning her enemies movements from afar before advancing and ending it in like 3 quick moves.

“Well Bela, if Mother asked you to jump off a bridge, would you?”

Bela, already climbing over the railing: “Hm?”

and there you go for Bela! my sweet child.. please learn self-care.

*ahem* I went overboard again didn’t I? WELP. I regret nothing. Give me more headcannons.

578 notes · View notes

mac-kd8 · 3 years ago

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Law x pregnant readers

Waking up, (Name) only felt tired as if she hadn't slept in months. She just blamed it from the late nights of working and nothing else. Not even realizing when she woke up it was already in the afternoon and the Heart Pirates were currently eating in the galley.

With a loud groan (Name) took off her Pj's and walked into the shower, she gasped slightly when the water presser felt a little more sensitive on her chest than usual.

(Name) shrugged it off, thinking it was because she was still healing from the last battle she took part of, so she didn't think much about it. Propping herself next to her captain like she always does, she quietly ate her late lunch while trying to keep her eyes open. Law being the observant man he is, grew quite worried about his beloved wife acting so fatigue. "Are you alright?" Law asked, trying to act he wasn't concerned. She only nodded before face-planting into her food with a loud smack. No one panicked or thought it was something to worry about, guessing (Name) was just having a narcoleptic attack.

Later that day, (Name) was currently laying on her bed while reading a book. Feeling like she was about to throw up, she put down her book next to her and quickly opened the bathroom door. She then puke out all of her lunch and maybe last night dinner as well into the toilet. Wipeing her mouth, (Name) then headed toward the sink to splash some cold water on her face.

Feeling a familiar presence, (Name) then turned her head to where Law was currently standing with a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess it's just a little food poisoning." (Name) said while scratching the back of her head.

"Alright but let me know when it gets worse."Law stated as he exited the bathroom.

(Name's) heart almost escaped from her chest when the submarine started shaking and yellow lights started flashing. Running onto the deck she could already see a battle taking place with men in white and blue uniforms on one side and men in colorful hats and white overalls on the other side. Unsheathing her twin katanas, (Name) then started cutting one marine after another but for some strange reason she already felt like she was out of energy. 20 minutes into the battle, with a large pant for air she finishes off the last of the marines before wobbling back to the submarine's doors.

"Damn why am I already out of breath, those marines were just small fries. My training methods haven't changed one bit, why do I feel so weak. "(Name) muttered to herself in annoyance.

(Name) only pushed her food around on the plate, hardly nibbling then she looked around the room. Everyone was so cheerful and she couldn't help but smile.

"Not eating much I see." Law commented, leaning over to whisper in her ear. Not like he needs to, over the usually loud noise that the Heart Pirates made at each meal.

"I'm just not hungry." She responded.

"Strange and I thought for someone who was out of breath just by fighting a few marines would be starving." Law stated in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Is it not to your liking, (Name)?" The head chef asked, catching sight of Law's actions.

"It's good. I'm just not hungry right now"(Name) said as she pushed back the plate.

"I'll put it in the fridge until you feel like eating again,"The chef said as he scooped up her plate of uneaten food.

"Do you need to lie down again?" Law asked her again for the third time today.

"I'm okay."

"Could I get some orange juice though?"(Name) sweetly asked the cook.

Then immediately , the crew got back to their usual antics paying no mind to (Name's) odd behavior.

She got to her feet while squeezing Law's shoulder gently. "I'm going to read a book." She said before taking a sip of the juice.

She was hoping that it was simply a case of stomach flu and not something alot more serious.

(Name) was once again in the bathroom and vomiting all of what she ate yesterday, which was not that much. (Name) felt terrible , as would anyone in these types of situations would, however, she still didn't want to bring the matter up. Luckily, Law hasn't woken up from his deep slumber , which made her sigh in relief. Slipping back into bed, she then let her eyelids close as she slept all the way through the afternoon again.

Then that cycle of having no appetite and vomiting lasted for this day as well, which made Law start to worry even more about his wife.

"(Name)!" She picked up her head by the ship's railing in surprise as she heard her name being called by Penguin. Her stomach hadn't seemed to settle, and now she is throwing up into the sea.

She then turned her head to the mechanic, trying her best not to look sick.

Penguin walked up to (Name) getting rather closer, causing (Name) to become nervous.

"You look pale." Penguin commented.

"I haven't been feeling well the last few days Penguin. So I'm probably a bit pale." (Name) stated .

"You're sick (Name)?" questioned Shachi. (Name) nodded her head, however quickly realized what she had brought up.

"I'm only slightly sick, just a little headache. Really."

"You sure (Name)?" Law asked as he walked up to the swordswoman, worried about her health.

She then gave a reassuring thumbs up to everyone to show that she was okay. Though internally, she was kicking herself for lying to the crew, even more so to her trusting and loving husband. The crew soon believed the lie as they continued with their day, however, Penguin, Shachi, and Law didn't seem to be convinced, so they kept an eye on her.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it." (Name) thought as she ran to the bathroom for the third time this week. She still was getting lucky with Law having once again already left their room or sleeping, but she knew that it was only a matter of time before they really began to be suspicious.

"This will pass. This will pass."(Name) kept telling herself furiously as she finished with her recent vomiting episode. She picked herself up, taking in deep breaths trying to settle her stomach. As she looked into the mirror, she noticed that she is even paler than yesterday.

Putting on a brave face, she then walked out of the bathroom and went onto the deck.

"Land ahoy!" Shachi shouted as he pointed at the piece of land.

All of the Heart Pirates gather around the railing in a disorderly long line, and lean over it, while watching the island they were about to dock. They had docked at a unique island well-known in the areas as vicious wild blood thirsty animals live there.

"Yahoo, a new adventure!" (Name) said happily before walking off the submarine's plank. As she got closer and closer onto the island, she felt someone grabbing her shoulder.

"I think it's for the best if you stay back in your current state."Law stated with a worried look on his face.

She only shrugged his hand off. "I'm fine, I feel a lot better today."

Before Law could protest, (Name) had already made her way onto the island.

And then she left, not running, but walking kinda in a slow pace into the forests.

After some time had passed, both Penguin and Shachi had returned after a troublesome adventure with some saber-tooth monkeys. Law was starting to get a little worry since (Name) wasn't back yet, so he went the same direction she walked in.

As Law walked deeper and deeper into the forest he finally made eye contact with the swordswoman. "Help!" (Name) called out as she was kneeling onto the tall grass while clenching her slightly bleeding shoulder.

Law was surprised, (Name) never called for help unless it's something really serious or life-threatening .

Activating his Room he switches places with (Name) while killing the beast in the process.

While Law was carrying (Name) through the forest, she leaned away from his chest so she wouldn't get vomit onto his clothes

-x-

"I'm going to take a blood sample." (Name) nodded as she rolled up her sleeve allowing Law to apply the alcohol onto her skin then inserting the needle. Only taking a tiny amount, Law removed the needle and quickly placed a band-aid on where he poke her. "You can leave, I will give you your results as soon as possible."

She only nodded before leaving the infirmary room.

Law stood there from where he was sitting in shock, not knowing how to feel after reviewing the results of her blood test. It was a mix of happiness, relief, fear and mostly parental love. It took all of his strength not to jump down like a crazy man who just won the lottery, because it was the middle of the night and he didn't want to wake up his crew. When he finally made it to the doors of his room, he put on a calm face and slowly and quietly opened the door. "Hi Captain, so did my blood test turn out good?" (Name) asked casually.

"Yep, it seems that both of you are fine." Law said with a big goofy smile on his usually calm and serious face. (Name) looked at her captain in surprise and in slight confusion, even already knowing the answer. "W-what do you mean the b-both of us?" (Name) managed to stutter out.

"I mean our baby. You're 9 weeks pregnant."

He was in love with (Name), and the idea of her having his baby was ideal to him, but it was still a shock, they'd never even spoken or brought up the subject. He wanted a family, but the idea still scares him. All the memories of his mother and father, and his little sister Lami all stuck to him. Then, the struggles and problems of them being famous pirates with both of them having large bounties on their heads. And all of the struggles that their child will face as well, everything he, (Name) and his unborn child, everything they will face together suddenly hit him in one go.

"Law I'm sorry, I should have been more careful." (Name) said while sobbing.

Law quickly, but carefully picks her up and sits her onto his lap while stroking the spot where their child was growing.

"Sorry for what? Making this the happiest day of my life." Law said before kissing her still flat stomach.

(Name) began to cry more but it wasn't tears of sadness, they were tears of joy. "We're going to be parents. I'm going to be a mom."

"And I'm going to be a dad. " Law said while showering her with even more kisses. (Name) squeaked when Law gently swooped her off her feet and began sprinting across the metal halls.

"What the... Law?!"

"Your shoulder, your shoulder was wounded. You're staying overnight, no, 3 nights in the infirmary. What if the baby got hurt. What if the baby got killed?"Law started listing off the things that could happen to their unborn child.

-x-

"Everyone, we have an announcement!" Law shouted loudly to get everyone's attention who was on the deck.

"We're getting a new crew member." (Name) said while trying to hold back her giggles.

"Oh, that's nice, when can we meet them?" Penguin asked.

"Less than 9 months." Law answered which made everyone go completely silent.

"We're having a baby!" Both (Name) and Law shouted cheerfully.

They were all staring at the expected couple, completely dumbfounded.

Astounded, flabbergasted, shock whichever word to describe their expressions and the tense atmosphere. Law's hand started to turn purple just by how hard (Name) was squeezing his hand.

"CONGRATULATIONS," Penguin and Shachi shouted in perfect unison.

"This is amazing, this calls for a party!" A Heart Pirate exclaimed.

"No alcohol for the pregnant woman though," Bepo smiled warmly at her from Law's side.

"(Name), don't cry, " Law said, reaching around her shoulders to comfort her.

"I know, it has to be the unbalanced hormones. I'm just so happy, this is a new chapter of my life." (Name) said as she cried into Law's chest.

Throughout the day everyone was partying while congratulating the new parents-to-be.

"So who will be the godparents?" Bepo asked.

"We have already decided that Ikkaku and you will be the godparents of our child."(Name) answered. Bepo then lifted both (Name) and Law off their feet and gave them a big hug while crying tears of joy. "Thank you, I'll be the best godfather ever." Bepo said, which made everyone in the Heart Pirates stare in jealousy, especially Penguin and Shachi.

"You guys will make great uncles." (Name)said with a big smile while hugging both of them in her arms.

"Lucky bear." Shachi muttered.

The 2 mechanics' faces turned a deep shade of red when (Name) kissed both of them on the cheek. "Don't worry, there is enough love to go around."

Then out of nowhere, a large explosion could be heard across the deck.

"Heart Pirates, Give up now or prepare to die."A marine holding a megaphone demanded.

(Name) smirked before unsheathing her twin katanas as she got into a fighting stance.

"Do your worst.''She retorted before Law used his devil fruit ability to transport her back into the sub.

Law shut the metal doors, ignoring the loud banging noises that were coming from the other side.

"Law, you ass, I want to fight too. Let me out, let me out." (Name) demanded as she kept on banging her fist onto the metal door.

"No, as your captain and doctor I order you to stay back and let us handle this. You're pregnant, you need to take it easy for now on."Law stated, which made (Name) slump down in disappointment. She hated being useless, she wanted to fight, she wanted to help, she wanted to do something besides laying down and doing nothing.

"Oh great, 7 more months of being totally useless." (Name) muttered under her breath while sighing.

A few weeks later-

(Name) felt like she was already going crazy. She wasn't allowed to do anything and she meant she couldn't do anything. First, the large weights she and Jean Bart can usually lift with ease have been replaced with 5 pound weights and she wasn't even allowed to use them for more than 5 minutes. Law had also forbidden( name) in certain places in the submarine as well, which was almost one half of the metal vessel that was off limits for her.

(Name) also swears, Law has super hearing because when she decides to get out of her bed, Law uses his devil fruit abilities to teleport himself right next to his wife's side.

"Law, go back to work. I'm just getting a snack."(Name) protested.

"Then ask me or someone else from the crew to get it for you. You're still in your first trimester of pregnancy, there is still a possible chance of miscarriages or physical deformities or all sources of possible medical stated as he called forth his room again then instantly a jar of peanuts appeared in his hand.

"Here, take these and go back to our room." Was all Law said as he pointed the direction of where their room was located, as if she was completely clueless of where she had been living for most of her life.

Rolling eyes (Name) went back to her room while munching down on the jar of peanuts on the way.

-x-

When the Heart Pirates docked onto an island, (Name) thought she could get some alone time to herself while getting the necessary items for the future stages of her pregnancy. And it was a good thing too since her pants and shirt had been feeling tight lately. "Bye Captain, I'm going to do a little shopping." (Name) said before she jumped off the submarine's front deck.

"Room, Shambles." Law now had (Name) in his arms.

"What the hell Law?" (Name) questioned.

"I'm coming with you, " Law stated as he tightly held her hand.

"Law, I'll be just fine. It's just a little shopping, I'm barely showing." (Name) retorted while trying to slip her hand from Law's strong grip.

"Nope, as long as you're carrying my child you're stuck with me." Law said, securitly wrapping around his arm onto her waist.

After 5 medical and clothes stores later, Law's arms were both covered in shopping bags while (Name) just carried a single bag with a small bottle of medicine inside of it.

"Law, let me carry that for you. You know I can lift 1000 times my own body weight." (Name) Stated with an annoyed frown.

"I got this, I don't want you to lift even one eight of your body weight. Your-" (Name) then cut off Law before he could finish the rest of this statement. "Yeah, Yeah, I know I'm pregnant and pregnant women shouldn't be exerting themselves."

Smirking devilishly, (Name) came up with a small plan to get away from her overbearing husband.

"Hey honey, I really need to use the bathroom."(Name) said as she pretended her bladder was about to burst.

"Very well."He responded, then they headed to the closest bathroom.

Reaching down in her left sock, (Name) grabbed a screwdriver and began unscrewing the bathroom's top window.

When (Name) was finally outside of the building, she began to grin like she has been in prison for 20 years and just now escaped. She was free, she could do whatever she wanted without worrying about Law dragging her back to their room and making her stay there until the next day.

In a swift motion, (Name) unsheathed her twin katanas and blocked an attack from a familiar mask man.

"Yo... it's been a while, when was the last time we fought together."(Name)greeted, enjoying the weight and feel of her swords when fighting. "Too long and this time I will become victorious." Killer responded.

Killer and (name) have been rivals ever since their crew had first met. The 2 of them will always break into fights everytime when they see one another. But so far they're about even, most of the time their fights usually ended up in draws.

The fight soon stopped when Killer stepped away and put back his scythe blades into its case. "Hey what gives, why are you chickening out now! The fight was just about to get better." (Name) shouted.

"I'm not fighting a pregnant woman, I want to kick your ass at your best."Killer stated while pointing to her slightly rounded stomach. "Damn, I knew I should have put on more baggy clothing."(Name) thought to herself as she tried to cover her baby bump.

"You're a pirate, why should you even care? Pirates do whatever they want."(Name) exclaimed while pouting slightly.

"I may be a pirate but I'm still a man who doesn't like fighting weak women." Was all he said before walking away.

"I'm not weak...fight me, please! Law won't even let me hold a fork. Please, I'm only on my 16 week."(Name)whined as she tugged onto Killer's shirt.

"No, and you look alot more further along than that."Killer retorted which made (Name) gasp loudly of being called fat.

Before Killer had any time to dodge, (Name) kicked him square in the balls which made him groan in pain.

"Meanie!" (Name) spat out before taking off into the forest nearby with small tears running down her face.

"Ouch!"He groaned loudly, laying on the ground while holding his sore nuts.

-x-

Law was pissed. But mostly Law was extremely worried. He couldn't find his wife anywhere, but what really worries him is that the Kid Pirate's ship has been spotted as well.

What if the Kid Pirates took advantage of his wife's current state or even worse killed her on the spot.

No matter how much observation Haki Law uses, he didn't have any lead on where his wife is.

"Captain, we know where she is." Penguin reported.

"Yeah, Killer from the Kid Pirates told us she kicked him in the nuts and went into the forest,"Shachi added.

"And why did she kick him in the nuts, (Name) doesn't usually use low blows?"Law stated with a raised eyebrow.

"Well,"Penguin started off while scratching the back of his head.

"He kinda called her fat." Shachi answered.

In a blink of an eye, Law called forth his room and teleported himself into the forest. Without even trying, Law hears small whimpers coming from the top of a tree so he looks up and sees the person he was looking for all day.

"(Name!)Law called out his wife's name.

"Go away!" She screamed then resumed crying again.

"No, I know I've been a little too clingy lately, but it's only because I want the best for you and our future kid as well. And to be fair, I don't really blame you for running away from me, so that is why I promise you I will try my best to give you your space."Law promised as he kneeled down.

(Name) stopped crying and looked at her husband.

"Okay, I'm coming down now."(Name) responded as she started climbing down onto one branch after another.

She gasps when one branch snaps from her weight and she begins to fall, face first into a painfull fall, and Law swears his heart stops for 5 seconds as his throat hitchs.

"Room, shambles!"

When his wife's stomach was only inches away from hitting the hard ground, she instantly appeared in Law's arms.

"Law, I'm sorr-"(Name) whispered her husband's name.

"That was way too close." He then looked and touched her baby bump gently.

"You're never ever leaving my sight until that baby is out of you. That's an order." Was all he said as he started walking back to the sub with his wife in his arms.

-x-

(Name) found herself laying flat on her back in the medical bay as Law prepared the new ultrasound equipment.

"Damn, that's cold." She hissed when the clear gel made contact with her stomach.

"Sorry," he apologised half-heartedly.

"Usually I would just use my scanning ability, but I think it would be a lot more useful to check in like this."Law stated then he turned on the monitor. He moved the device around her stomach slowly with his eyes on the screen, instantly stopped when he saw a gray blob in the middle.

"There's our child."He pointed to the blob.

As (Name) looked closer at the screen, she cock an eyebrow when another blob had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Honey, why are there 2 of them?"(Name) stated while pointing where the 2 blobs were located.

"You're just seeing things, there is no-"Law stopped himself when indeed there were more than 1 blob. "We're having twins."Law whispered so softly that (Name) had to ask him to repeat himself.

"We're having twins. Yes,! Now you don't have to get pregnant again."Law said again as his wife just stood there in shock, not knowing how to process the new information.

"Wait, you're not satisfied with one kid." (Name) yelled at her husband in which he only nodded.

"Great. I already get smothered enough with one baby, I'm sure it's gonna get worse."

"It's now double," his lips formed into a smirk. "For now you're going to have daily instead of weekly check ups. And you're no longer allowed to practice swordsmanship with real swords anymore."

"Excuse me? No way, I've been holding swords since I was only 5 years old, you can't do that." She sat up sharply.

"You lost all of your rights when you started carrying precious cargo. Now you must be twice careful with our little ones." He brushed his fingers against her stomach before kissing it gently.

The more (Name-s) belly got bigger and bigger, the more cautious everyone, especially Law became. In only her 30 weeks of pregnancy, (Name) already looks like she could give birth any day now.

The Heart Pirates were currently docked on a winter island while (Name) only watched from a sideline.

"But Law, I want to play in the snow like everyone else. Please, I've been cooped up in this submarine for far too long."(Name) begged while giving Law the puppy eye look.

"Fine, but you need to bundle up."Law exclaimed.

6 layers of thick clothing later, (Name) walked off the Polar tang's deck with Law right next to her side.

Working on her snow fort for about 30 minutes, (Name) started to feel a sneeze coming along and tried her best to hold it in.

"Achoo!" She then covered her mouth, in hopes Law didn't hear it.

She sighs and doesn't even put up a fight when Law's room incases her, and teleports her into his arms.

"You're going back to the sub, I knew it was a bad idea to let you play in the snow."Law stated flatly.

And once again (Name) was laying flat on her back as she watched Law move the ultrasound equipment around her stomach for the fourth time this week.

"Is this really necessary?"(Name) questioned while pouting.

"Yes, unless you don't want our babies to be healthy. You're now forbidden to leave our bed until your cold has subsided. If you break any of those rules then I will bind you to the bed until your pregnancy has ended. Do I make myself clear?" Law questioned which only made (name) stick out her tongue.

"You 2 need to get out of mommy soon because I can't take another minute with your daddy."(Name) talk and rub to her rounded stomach when Law left the room.

-x-

2 weeks later and (Name) Was finally on her last trimester of pregnancy. "Law!" (Name) shouted his name loudly.

"Yes my darling, is there something you need." Law responded as he headed toward where his wife was currently sitting down.

"The babies are kicking, they're kicking again."(Name) said excitedly then grab's Law's hand to guide him where the kicking was happening.

Then the day when his children would be born.

(Name) woke up in the middle of the night when she felt a warm wet substance in between her legs and soon realized her water just broke.

"Law...Law." She shakes her husband awake.

"Yeah, what is it?" He muttered as he tried to rub away the sleep from his eyes.

"My water just broke."She then yelled in agony after she felt a contraction.

"Shit?!" Law then quickly moves to her side to help her into the wheelchair he had laying by for this day. "Bepo, round up the medical squad, it's time." Law shouted through a den den mushi.

"Whatt, I thought she wasn't due for at least another couple weeks." Bepo shouted.

"Well, the kids have decided to come now!" Law stated.

12 hours of shouting and a lot of pushing later, the first one came out.

"She's a beautiful girl!" Law said before handing the bundle of joy to Bepo.

"Come on just one more push." Law said then he could see the head of the baby.

"It's a handsome boy," Law said before handing the other baby to Penguin's arms.

"Law, what should we name them?"(Name) asked as she panted for air.

"Rosey for our baby girl and Corazon for our baby boy." Law answered, then placed a sweet and tender kiss on his wife's forehead.

"You need rest now, I will take care of them in the meantime."

#One piece #Law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #law x reader #Law x pregnant #Daddy Law #Baby #pregnancy

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years ago

Text

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.2

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

The BEAUTIFUL art pieces were done by @clownwry and @elishevart ! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭❤️💋

ch.1 - ch.3

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was way more nervous than he was letting on.

She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.

Ford would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Mabel’s company, but she was practically a stranger, and keeping a random girl in his house that was located in the middle of the woods was fishy and Ford couldn’t help but feel like it was illegal. But he couldn’t leave her out in the snow and send her on her way to find her home and family, so he decided to keep her warm or healthy, simply because it was the right thing to do.

But then she said she had no parents to call. Only a brother, who was lost, too. Ford can remember the old rule: If you’re lost, stay where you are until you are found. So he then decided that she could stay here until her brother found her, which should be by morning at the latest.

Still, he felt uneasy, so once Mabel was settled in front of the TV, Ford excused himself and went into the kitchen to make a phone call. There was only one man who would have better judgement in this situation than him.

The phone rang a few times. Ford checked his watch to make sure it was a reasonable time to call. It wasn’t Sunday, was it? But then the ringing stopped. “Howdy! This here Fiddleford McGucket.”

“Hey there, buddy.” Ford smiled to himself at hearing that cheerful voice. “How have you been?”

“Stanford Pines! Good t’hear from ya!” Fiddleford cheered. “M’just fine, just fine! How are ya?! Ya haven’t gotten eaten by monsters yet, have ya?” He laughed, making his old friend chuckle along.

“No no, I’m alright.” Ford almost brought up the reason he called, but then he remembered something very important to Fiddleford. “How are Emma-May and Tater?”

“OH! They’re doin’ great! We’re all very happy n’ doin’ well! Ya won’t believe how big Tate’s gotten since ya last saw him! He’s already crawlin’!”

“Wow, that's great to hear.” Ford sat in a chair at the kitchen table. “Has he said his first words yet?”

“No, not quite. Actually, he’s extremely quiet. Not a lot of baby-babble.” Fiddleford chuckled. “The doctor says that’s perfectly normal. Tate’s so smart, he’s reachin’ for specific colors n’ such, n’ ya can tell he’s thinkin’ a lot n’ knows what’s goin’ on, he just got nothin’ t’say.”

“I was very shy when I was young.” Ford commented casually. He didn't feel like mentioning why. “If Tate is anything like either of his parents he’s very intelligent.”

“Oh, he’s so much like both of us it’s scary. Ya know Emma-May, so clever n’ quiet n’ such. Tate’s got all that. But he already looks so much like me! But he’s got his mama’s hair! N’ Santy Claus brought ‘im this fun little fishin’ game where ya fish for plastic fish with a pole with a magnet on it, n’ he loves it! I can’t wait to take ‘im fishin’ when he’s big enough! Ya really outta give yourself a break n’ come down for a visit, he’d move to see his Uncle Ford again.”

Ford’s face felt hot. “Perhaps. Spring is when a lot of anomalies are active and breeding, so i would prefer not to miss that, but maybe I could visit for a weekend before that…”

“Well, no pressure, I won’t assume anythang until ya tell me to, just know there’s always a bed for ya here.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford. The same for you and your family. The clean air will do everyone some good.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Fiddleford sighed happily and perked up. “So! Whatcha callin’ for? Not that I’m not happy just t’chat, but ya never call.”

Ford laughed and shrugged to himself. “I suppose I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No need t’be sorry, Stanford, just wanna know what’s up.”

“Well, I was hoping to get your advice on something.”

“Shoot.”

“Um… well…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to tell him this. “I heard some unusual sounds outside today…”

“What kind of unusual sounds?”

“Cracks, like lightning. And some faint yelling.” Ford answered. “I thought it might be a tree branch or a new anomaly to catalogue, but when I opened the door a young girl was standing there in the snow with no coat.”

“Heavens! Is she alright?!”

“She’s okay, no frostbite. She was cold, but after sitting by the fire, drinking some hot chocolate, and changing into some dry clothes, she’s okay now.”

“Well, good.”

“So of course I brought her in. I tried to call her parents, she probably got lost playing…”

“Sure.”

“... but she says she doesn’t have any parents.”

“Oh.” Fiddleford sighed. “Oh. Now, wait, are ya sure she didn’t just say that so ya wouldn’t call?”

Ford chuckled and said, “I first thought that too, but she looked too sad to be lying.”

“Okay, I see. Does she got somebody ya can call?”

“She says she has a brother, but he was out there, too. So he is probably out there looking for her and therefore nowhere near a phone.”

“Fair enough, okay. So, I reckon y’all are waitin’ for him t’come ‘round.”

“Yup.”

“Well sounds to me like you’ve handled this all pretty well.” Fiddleford said confidently.

“You think so?” Ford asked. “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m missing something. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Nonsense, buddy, you’re doin’ great.” Fiddleford assured. “Look here, ya can’t just leave a young gurl out in the snow t’try t’find her way home...”

“I agree.”

“... so ya really got one option n’ that’s t’keep an eye on her n’ let her in as a guest. N’ ya tried t’call, but nothin’. The best thang ya can do right now is be there for this lil’lady n’ just be kind t’her. N’ if nobody comes for her by mornin’, why don’t ya go into town n’ see if anybody knows her, then they can help y’all out.”

Ford nodded, then remembered that his best friend couldn’t see it, so he said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“You’re welcome. N’ hey, are ya okay?” He asked seriously.

“Yes, yes I’m okay. I just want to make sure I do this right.”

“O’course. I understand. Ya want me t’come down there n’ give a hand?”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure Mabel will find her brother in the morning.”

“Mabel, huh? Well, if y’all don’t, please call me. N’ even if ya do find her brother, call me. Keep me updated.”

“I will. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“Anytime, Stanford.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Mr. Ford gave Mabel the remote for the old TV and went into the kitchen, she decided to use her awesome detective skills to figure out what year it was. If it was before Grunkle Stan lived here and opened the Mystery Shack, she must be pretty far back in time. But she had no way of knowing if it was 1999 or 2005 or the 50s.

The TV was old, but so was Grunkle Stan’s in her time. So Mr. Ford could have had this TV for a long time and didn’t want to replace it.

Okay, so when was the TV made? Mabel didn’t know. Dipper would have known.

Okay, Grunkle Stan mentioned watching TV when he was a kid once or twice. So at least Mabel was when Stan was a kid, okay.

Mabel turned the TV on and it was in color. Okay, so she wasn’t too far back in time. But the TV was playing a commercial for clear skin. The picture was gritty and all the people in it had puffy hair and long socks and oh my god was that woman wearing legwarmers?! Mabel grinned at seeing her favorite fashion on TV, but then her face dropped. When was she?

She tapped her chin and tried to think of how to know the date without being suspicious. She could ask Mr. Ford, but that might be suspicious. Mabel decided to start flicking through channels to try to guess what year she was in based on what was airing. A lot of shows were about cowboys, space, or game shows. Huh. Okay.

All the TV shows were definitely older. Nothing her dad would watch from when he was a kid, so if Mabel had to guess by everyone’s crazy air, the cheesy TV shows, and the music occasionally playing, she was in the 70s.

Huh. Okay. But she needed an exact year. So Mabel turned off the TV, saw an old radio on a desk, and turned it on to listen.

“... cuz it’s cold doesn’t mean you can't boogie, folks! So grab someone you wanna get warm with, turn up the music, and get your bodies warm in the coolest way possible! Here’s Night Fever, by the Bee Gees!”

Mabel grinned at the disco music. Her personal favorite song from these guys was More Than a Woman, but Night Fever would do. For a moment Mabel forgot her mission, jumped off the couch and left the blanket behind, and in the over-sized gray t-shirt Mr. Ford gave her while her clothes were drying, she danced along to the music, singing the chorus since those were the only words she knew.

“When you reach out for me. Yeah, and the feelin' is right,

Then I get night fever, night fever. We know how to do it! Gimme that night fever, night fever. We know how to show it!”

Mabel laughed at herself as she spun around in her socks and tried to do the point-and-hype dance she didn’t know the name to, but everyone did it when a disco song played.

Little did she know that Ford had returned to check on her, and was smiling at her as she shook her hips and waved her hair around and had fun. He leaned against the doorway and planned to let her dance in peace, but when she did a spin and saw him, she grinned and took his hand. “C’mon, Mr. Ford, come dance with me!”

Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No, no! I can’t dance!”

“You got two legs that aren’t broken?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can dance! C’mon!” Mabel encouraged, let him go when they were both in the middle of the room, and she started to dance again. “Don’t make me dance alone!” She even pulled an evil move and gave him puppy eyes. Rude.

Ford smiled slyly at her and hesitantly copied her boogie moves. It was true that Ford never liked to dance, but there was no one around but Mabel, and though he had only known her for an hour or more, he was sure she would never make fun of him.

And he was right.

“Wow! Look at you, Mr. I-Can’t-Dance! Yeah!” Mabel hopped on the couch, standing, and took Ford’s hand. “Here, I’ll spin you!”

Ford laughed and allowed it, doing a single spin, but then scooping her in his arms to dip her and then let her down, making her laugh as they continued to dance.

“Alright alright, you crazy cats, that was Night Fever by the Bee Gees! It's a snowy day here in the heart of Oregon, with snow flurries coming in harder all night, but it should clear up by morning and be a fun day to go out and play! The date is January 26th, 1978 in case you gotta write a check or mail a thank you note to a friend or family member. I’m still writing letters for Christmas! We’ll be right back with some of your favorites after a word or two from our sponsors, so don’t go anywhere!”

Mabel stared at the radio. “Wow, 1978.” She breathed. Her parents were only kids right now, maybe only six or seven-years-old. Wow.

Ford chuckled. “I know, I’m still in the bad habit of writing ‘77.”

Mabel realized her mistake, but was grateful her host misunderstood her. “Me too.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dinner. How about some ramen noodles?”

“Yes, please! Can we play a game after we eat?”

“Sure. I don’t have many board games, but I do have a deck of cards.”

“Do you know any card tricks?!”

“A few.” Ford admitted, wiggling his fingers. “There are some advantages to having more fingers than average.”

Mabel grinned up at him and followed him to the kitchen for dinner.

#GF #fanfiction #gravity falls #gravity falls au #timestuck au #ford and mabel bonding #Fiddleford McGucket #dancing #night fever #snow day

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years ago

Text

Needles & Ink, Pt 2 (NSFW)

Lena slips in the back door of the InkSpot. She pauses just inside, absorbing the utter silence that fills the place. Gone is the thumping music, and buzzing of machines. Gone is the bustle of clients coming and going. It's completely and utterly still.

At nearly 4am, it's well past normal operating hours, even for the night crowd. Lena knows she herself ought to be in bed, catching as many winks as she could before her next morning meeting, but-- even after a day of committees and endless reports, Lena is absolutely wired. She'd known tugging on James' door would be a long shot, but when it opened she'd hoped her fellow night owl might be down for a late tattoo session.

Looking out across the darkened shop, though, it seems more likely that James has simply forgotten to lock the back door. She pulls out her phone, intent on teasing James into oblivion, but freezes when an odd sound drifts out of James' office.

It sounds almost like a moan, but when it's followed by another, longer moan of a different pitch, Lena realizes someone is humming. Someone in the office is humming a Bonnie Tyler song.

Total Eclipse of the Heart, to be exact.

Lena saunters silently to the office door and leans against it, taking a moment to observe Kara Danvers humming along to the music playing in her ears. She's bent over paperwork, and despite the hour and the solitude a soft smile graces her lips, pulling one to Lena's own face at the sight of it.

"You look good," she says in a low voice.

Kara jumps violently in her seat, jolting the entire desk with the force of her gasp.

"Oh my sweet baby Jesus!!" she exclaims, pressing a hand to her chest. When she looks up, Kara sags at the sight of Lena. "You scared me!"

Lena watches Kara remove her earbuds, and folds her arms over her chest, still leaning against the door frame. "Sorry," she purrs unapologetically. She smiles. "How are you? It's been a while."

"Good, good. I mean, I'm-- I'm in Metropolis! Wait-- you're in Metropolis! What are you doing here??"

Lena gives a tilt of her head. "Business. I may have moved my company to National City, but it still feels as though I do more business here than there these days."

"Right, um..." Kara suddenly looks nervous, casting a worried look past Lena into the hallway. "Sorry, but um.... we're kind of closed? Actually-- how did you get in here?"

Lena huffs a faint laugh. "Back door. James lets me slip in now and then. I was hoping he would have time for a quick session."

"Oh, um... I'm the only one here. Sorry."

"Don't be," Lena smiles. "It's good to see you. Is James treating you well? I don't need to yell at him, do I?"

"Oh, no! No, no, he's been great-- everyone has been really amazing, truly. I couldn't have asked for better hosts. I've been loving it here."

Lena nods, glad to hear it. Pushing off the door jamb, she lets her arms fall, clasping her hands in front of her. "Well, I won't keep you. It was good to see you--"

"W-wait!" Kara jerks to her feet, slamming into the desk yet again in her haste to keep Lena from leaving. Lena pauses, biting back a smile at her clumsiness. "James isn't here, but I am. Why don't we do some more work on your crane?"

"Oh, it's late--"

"No, I-- I mean, I'll text James to make sure it's okay, but... I'm down if you are."

Lena regards her for a long moment.

"Okay."

---

There’s something ethereal in the moments that follow. James gives his blessing, which Kara barely notices past the distraction that is Lena Luthor unbuttoning her blouse. Backlit by a halo of neon light, she looks like a hazy dream, long and beautiful and full of mystery even as she lays herself bare.

In deference to the late hour, Kara keeps the overheads off, and simply turns on her worklight. The spill of light pulls Lena’s attention to her, catching her watching. In the shadows, Lena smiles coyly.

“Like what you see?” Lena asks, casting her shirt aside. She takes a wide stance, presenting herself to Kara’s gaze in all her tattooed glory. Maybe it’s the late hour, but Kara allows her gaze to linger, charting a path from the stylized storm brewing at Lena’s collarbones, to the dragon that disappears down one hip.

“Always,” she murmurs.

Lena looks aside for a moment-- when she looks back, it’s with a heat that sends a bolt of desire straight to Kara’s core. She takes a breath that quakes in her lungs, and then suddenly Lena is there, tucking a wisp of hair behind Kara’s ear.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since our first session,” Lena murmurs.

A flush heats Kara’s neck and face. “Me either,” she confesses. “I mean. You too--”

Her blunder is swallowed by a kiss. Lena’s lips press against Kara’s, warm and soft and absolutely intoxicating. Kara lifts her hands, framing Lena’s face and pulling her closer to deepen the kiss. She’s rewarded with a muted moan, and Lena’s hands on her hips, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of Kara’s tank top.

“You are so beautiful,” Kara breathes when they part, panting for air. There’s an insistent throbbing between her legs, aching for more. Lena’s hand cups her gently, making her whimper.

“May I?” Lena whispers against her ear. Biting her lip, Kara nods. Only then does Lena unbutton Kara’s jeans with her long fingers, peeling the denim away to reveal her panties. Kara’s completely forgotten hat she’s wearing until Lena laughs, low and throaty in Kara’s ear.

The pizza panties. Goddammit.

“I love them,” Lena murmurs, reassuring her. “But I’d love them even better on my bedroom floor.”

Oh god. Kara envisions a clean penthouse apartment, spotless save for the mess of their discarded clothes. But here in the shop? Gross.

“Guess I’ll just have to make do,” Lena says, hitching up the legs of her trousers to kneel between Kara’s legs. In moments, Kara’s pants and panties are both below her hips and a warm tongue sweeps through her folds, collecting the moisture of her arousal in a single taste. Lena hums with pleasure before her thumb gets to work against Kara’s bare clit.

Kara quivers, nearly staggering as her body reacts. Lena’s hands brace her hips, steadying her.

“All right there?” she asks, playfully teasing. Kara whimpers with a nod. To her surprise, Lena guides Kara’s leg to rest over her shoulder, until Kara’s stretched and gaping at her very core. “Press against me if you need to.”

Kara nods again. She doesn’t last long. In mere moments she’s moaning and writhing against Lena’s mouth, shuddering as waves of ecstasy roll through her. Lena’s tongue continues to guide her through her orgasm, pressing firmly to calm her through the aftershocks. When she finally pulls away, Kara can’t bend down fast enough to kiss her own taste away from Lena’s lips.

“On the table,” Kara urges, pulling Lena from her knees. She hastily pulls her pants up, but leaves them unfastened as she quickly devotes her attention to the curves of Lena’s body. Lena doesn’t quite make it on top of the table. She settles for leaning against its edge as she kisses Kara soundly, her hands buried in Kara’s hair.

Kara kisses her messily, wet and sloppy, but Lena can’t seem to get enough. She only pulls her hands away to fumble at the back zipper of her dress pants, until Kara nudges her. “Turn around,” she murmurs.

Lena turns, and Kara carefully unzips her trousers. They fall to her ankles, exposing the rest of Lena’s tattoos. Kara takes a moment to admire them, kneeling to run her hands from Lena’s hip to her ankle, tracing the shape of the tiger clawing up one leg and the dragon coiling down the other. Even in the low light Kara can see the artistry, the mastery of the craft that has been inked into Lena’s skin. And there, curving around Lena’s ribs, a crane peeks out-- Kara’s own offering to the altar that is Lena’s body.

Unlike Kara’s pizza panties, Lena is resplendent in black lace. The fabric hugs Lena’s hips and ass in a tantalizing display. Kara can barely breathe as she stands and runs her fingers across the floral threadwork. Her whimper is eclipsed by a wonton moan from Lena’s throat, her hips pressing out and back against Kara’s hands.

“Kara…”

Lena’s voice is heady, even breathless. It sends a shudder of delirium down Kara’s spine. How is this her life. But Lena’s need is real and evident in the heady utterance, prompting Kara to hook her fingers under the panties and delicately sliding them down Lena’s hips. Every inch of Lena’s inked buttocks steals Kara’s breath, leaving her gasping by the time Lena shifts plaintively in her heels. Finally, Kara cups Lena from behind, and when Kara finds arousal nearly dripping from Lena’s core, she swallows thickly.

“Relax for me, baby girl.”

Lena shudders, sending a gush of fresh warmth into Kara’s palm. Leaning forward, Kara slides one hand down to Lena’s wrist, pressing it against the table as she slips two fingers into Lena’s folds. Gently, she begins to thrust.

“Harder,” Lena gasps almost immediately. She shifts her stance until Kara’s fingers hit a new spot. Kara nods, catching Lena’s gaze when she turns her head to look over one bare shoulder. She increases her speed, adds just a touch more pressure, and is rewarded with a hitch in Lena’s breath. Soon Lena is moaning with every breath, her back glistening with building sweat as her body temperature rises.

Suddenly, Lena’s body shudders with a piercing moan, her walls clenching tight around Kara’s fingers. Just as she begins to come down, Kara releases Lena’s wrist to slip between her hips and the table to press her thumb against Lena’s clit, rubbing swift, furious circles until Lena crests again with a sharp gasp.

When she recovers, Lena turns against the table to loop her arms around Kara’s neck. Kara wraps herself around Lena’s bare skin, nuzzling against her neck, nibbling at her pulse point.

“You’re incredible,” Lena murmurs.

Kara hums against Lena’s neck.

“I’m not finished yet.”

---

Kara draws back to wipe her hair from her eyes. Lena lays before her on a freshly sterilized table in nothing but her bra and panties, looking sleepy and relaxed despite the blood stippling to the surface of her skin.

“You know,” Kara observes, “not everyone would follow sex with a tattoo chaser.”

Lena smiles. “Their loss,” she murmurs. “I highly recommend it.”

Forgoing the use of a stencil, Kara had freehanded the plumage of the crane directly onto Lena’s skin, and already she could see the bird coming to life.

Kara smirks. “Not everyone is a masochist.”

“Imagine tattooing while having sex,” Lena drawls. “Now that would be kinky.”

A laugh bursts out of Kara, earning a deep grin from Lena. With her hair loose and sweaty, Lena is a veritable dream-- to have her skin under Kara’s needle is an honor on a bed of honors. The atmosphere is slow and silky around them, like the world outside has slowed to a standstill without them. Kara savors every moment, lest it all slip away.

“So how has Metropolis treated you so far?” Lena asks, watching Kara dip her needle in fresh ink. She relaxes back when Kara approaches, allowing her easy access to the tattoo site. She doesn’t flinch when Kara resumes. “Still taking walk-ins? Besides me, of course.”

Kara grins, even as she focuses on what she’s doing. “You’re the first one I’ve taken in weeks, actually. Most people are looking for big, personal pieces, so the walk ins don’t really happen you know?” She pauses. “I’ve already started booking back at Argo, since my time here is already booked up.”

“Really? Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” Kara can’t help but blush. “But you know… something tells me I probably have you to thank for all this.”

Lena regards her. “Oh? How so?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re the only canvas I’ve worked on that James Olsen would have seen.”

Lena’s lips part in a silent ah. She regards Kara for a long moment, before reaching out a hand to halt Kara’s ministrations. With a single touch, she pulls Kara’s entire attention to her.

“I didn’t suggest anything, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Kara doesn’t respond, and thereby tips her hand: it’s exactly what she’s afraid of. That a top-paying client threatened to withdraw their business unless James agreed to take on an unknown artist from a strip mall in National City.

Lena cups her cheek gently.

“All I did was show James the work you’d done-- as I would for any piece I was proud of.” She holds Kara’s gaze, allowing her to see the truth in Lena’s eyes. “Anything he did after that is entirely on you and your body of work. Do you hear me?”

Kara releases a shaky breath, laughing slightly. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “I hear you.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her arm. “Now lay back so I can finish.”

Lena does so, but her eyes don’t leave Kara. Kara can feel her gaze linger, until she’s too immersed in her art to be aware of anything else.

---

“This,” Lena says hours later, pressing cash into Kara’s hand, “is for the tattoo. Just to be clear.”

Without even looking at it, Kara tucks it away. “Good to know.”

“Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” Lena winks, earning a chuckle in return.

“Right. Absolutely. But you know…”

“Hmmm?”

Kara tugs Lena closer by the hips, bringing their fronts flush together. Taing advantage of their proximity, Kara kisses her deeply. “You’re going to need some touch ups.”

Lena smiles against her, then kisses her again.

“Well, then…. I guess I’ll just have to see you again.”

“You will.” Kara creeps her hands playfully up Lena’s shirt, only for Lena to pull away with a good natured laugh.

“I have to go, but, ah… I’ll see you later?”

Kara watches Lena back away towards the rear entrance, a smile ever present on her lips.

“Yeah. You will.”

It’s not until long after Lena leaves that Kara realizes.

She didn’t get Lena’s phone number.

#supercorp #needles & ink #tattoo au #smut #ye be warned #as a treat #still dunno where this is going #but i had a vision and i ran with it #hope y'all like it #let me know what you think

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youare-mysonshine · 4 years ago

Text

heavy || bucky barnes

Summary: reader’s mental health has been taking a decline and bucky is there.

Requested: No

Pairing: TFATWS Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: talks of mental health, depression, anxiety, angst, cussing.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Hey guys, I’m back I guess lmao. I’ve really been struggling with my mental health lately and I guess I kinda just wanted to put it into words, something productive? And I’ve been feeling our angsty emo boy bucky barnes. Most of you might’ve followed me for my Oscar fics but I kinda wanna branch out and I thought this would be a good time to do so. Anyways, I know that some of you have inboxed me or messaged me and I haven’t responded and I’m sorry. But I just want you all to know that if you’re struggling, I’m always here to talk. About anything, always. So, I hope you enjoy this. I might’ve cried while writing this lmao and I also might’ve ended it on such an awkward place but, i’m still getting used to writing again. (Flashbacks are in italics)

————

Bucky didn’t miss the dark circles under your eyes. He didn’t miss the way you sort of slouched as you approached him. He didn’t miss the way that your smile didn’t really meet your eyes.

“Hey,�� You said in a breathless voice. “Sorry, I’m late. I got held up.” You said as you took a seat across from him in the booth. Held up. It was better than telling him that you were thinking of just not showing up at all. In the end, you knew that you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t just blow off your new friend who you had so enjoyed spending time with. So, in a rush, you got dressed and made your way to the small, quiet diner that you two had taken to frequenting together. Bucky Barnes was an enigma if you’d ever met one. The way that you had met was rather.. cliche and something straight from a story.

You had been trying to lay off of the caffeine for a while, realizing that you had nearly gone through an entire packet of 32 k-pods that you had just purchased. You realized that you might’ve had a problem. You had been going pretty strong with staying away from caffeine for the time being, until you passed by a coffee shop and got a whiff of coffee. You just couldn’t help yourself; you bought a cup of coffee. It was when you were walking down the street, holding the cup of coffee in one hand, looking down, that you didn’t see someone walking right in your path. You had collided into what seemed like a solid wall and the impact had caused you to squeeze the cup of coffee in surprise, the warm liquid burning your hand, staining your clothes and the other person. You had realized it was another person you had crashed into when you heard them let out a low cuss.

Bucky’s grumpy self had been fully prepared to tell you off for crashing into him, having just left his therapist’s office, but when you looked up at him with those bright eyes of yours, a million apologies spilling from your lips a mile a minute, he swallowed whatever harsh words had nearly sprung forth. He had apologized as well; both of you had been at fault. Bucky had been going over his session with Dr. Raynor that morning, completely lost in his own mind, and you had your eyes trained on the ground, something that was a bad habit of yours. The shock of realizing you had bumped into a man, a really really handsome man with the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen, had made you temporarily forget that you had practically scorched your hand with the coffee, and that you had gotten it on him as well.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You said once again, quickly averting your eyes from the handsome stranger’s face. Instead you focused on the smushed cup in your hand and the stains on his leather jacket. It just made you feel even terrible. “I, I can pay for you to get your jacket cleaned, if you want. Really. I wasn’t paying attention and I just, for whatever reason, squished my cup and.. I’m sorry.” You said, kind of breathlessly.

“It’s.. it’s alright.” His voice was like the coffee that you had been drinking. Smooth and rich. It was deep, something that reverberated deep in your chest and had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. “I wasn’t paying attention either. Really, it’s fine. And don’t worry about my jacket. No harm, no foul.” He said. “You should, uh, you should take care of that hand. Hope you didn’t burn yourself too bad.” He gestured to your hand, still clutching the cup, with one of his own gloved hands.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It wasn’t that hot. Thank you, though. And again, I’m really, really sorry.” Sparing one, seemingly, last glance at the handsome stranger, you side stepped him and began to walk away, tossing the empty cup of coffee in a trash can on the sidewalk. But you didn’t get very far because that deep voice called out to you, halting you in your tracks.

“Can I buy you another cup of coffee?” Bucky’s mouth had opened and spoken the words long before his brain could even catch up. He didn’t know why he had asked you that, but something in his gut was just telling him too.

“What?” A look of total bewilderment had crossed your face and he had seen it.

“I just, well I thought that, since I bumped into you, I could make it up to you by buying you a new cup of coffee. If you wanted, I mean. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” Bucky clarified, hand stuffed in his pocket, waiting for your answer. For a few seconds, you simply stood there, unsure of what to say because surely this wasn’t happening? The last time that you had gone out with a guy was.. well, shit, you didn’t even remember the last time. The little voice in the back of your head, that anxious, paranoid little voice, was telling you not to go off with a stranger. You’d watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds and other true crime shows and documentaries to know that situations like this never turned out well. However, you didn’t get a bad feeling from this particular man. He seemed just as awkward and slightly frazzled as you felt. So you agreed.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

That had happened about two months ago. Ever since then, you and Bucky had formed a strong friendship. Your first time getting coffee with him had been awkward, as were the next few times that you had seen one another. But things got easier. Becoming friends was easy. You kind of fell into this routine, almost as if you two had known each other your whole lives. That was why Bucky telling you who he really was had been terrifying for him. He carried around guilt and shame and just contempt for everything he’d done. Everything The Winter Soldier represented, and when he told you, he figured that you would think the same. He had asked you meet him at the diner that had now become your spot and and you remember how he nervously wrung his gloved hands together. You remember when you asked him what was wrong and he didn’t verbally respond but he took off his gloves; the right one first and then the left, revealing a shiny black metal hand, golden lines intricately placed.

He told you then. Maybe he didn’t tell you everything but he told you who he was and he had braced himself for you to get up and storm out. Or, to yell at him and tell him how much of a monster he was. But, it never came. Instead, you reached out and placed your hand on top his. Not his real hand, but the metal one. You didn’t say anything. You just gave him that smile that was quickly becoming his favorite. Sometimes, silence spoke a thousand words. To Bucky, you had become kind of a respite for him. Even in the late nights or mornings when he woke up after a nightmare. Or after a particularly hard session with Dr. Raynor. He had closed himself off from other people except you.

Bucky might not have known it, but he gave you the same level of comfort as you gave him. You found yourself craving his presence. Every time you were around him, you couldn’t help but to smile or laugh. In the time that you spent together, your mind was clear and free from all your worries. It all evaporated into thin air. Your mind, usually so active with all sorts of thoughts and worries, could finally rest when you were with Bucky. You could sleep. You could get up in the morning without that stress and anxiety drowning you. It was okay. It was great.

Until it wasn’t.

“No problem, doll.” He said, gloved hands clasped under the table on his lap. “I already ordered. Got your usual. Hope that was alright.” He added, to which you nodded absentmindedly.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Thanks Buck.” You said, mustering up a half hearted smile that didn’t reach your eyes. It was like even smiling drained the energy from you. You were exhausted. Not even just physically but mentally and emotionally. You had been having such good days for a while now, since meeting Bucky. You felt like maybe you would finally be alright but.. this feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that nothing was quite right, it was heavy. It weighed you down. It suffocated you. You wanted to be alone, but you also couldn’t stand to be alone because when you were alone, you were just stuck in your head and being in your head was the absolute worst place to be.

The intrusive thoughts had started. They told you that you would do nothing but weigh Bucky down. That he didn’t need someone like you in his life, someone with clear problems of their own, when he was going to therapy trying to better himself. Even if it had been mandatory for him to go. You wanted to push him away, save him from yourself, but you also couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

Bucky noticed the shift in you. Normally when you two met up, whether it was at the diner or anywhere else, you would usually talk his ear off. Not that he minded, he was content to just sit back and listen to you. Sometimes, you’d tell him about a new book that you had started reading. You had just started reading the fifth Harry Potter book and you were trying to get him to read them. You’d tell him about your day. You’d ask him how his day went, how it went with Dr. Raynor, though you never pushed for more information. You always let him share if he was comfortable with it and he appreciated that. Sometimes you teased him for being such an old man.

The food came soon after you had arrived and sure enough, Bucky had ordered your usual. It sent a pang through your heart when you realized that he had memorized your order, down to the extra syrup and whipped cream on the pancakes. Bucky always liked to make fun of you for ordering the same thing when you came to the diner. No matter what time it was, you always ordered the pancakes with extra syrup and extra whip cream, with the strawberries on the side. Secretly, though he found it adorable.

Today, you had barely even taken more than a few bites and that was what really let Bucky know that something wasn’t right. You kept your head down, eyes on the pancakes and you cut them up, bringing a few up to your mouth and chewing slowly, but you mostly just moved them around your plate with the fork in your hand. Bucky himself had barely taken only a few bites of the food he’d ordered for himself, but it wasn’t for lack of appetite, it was because of the growing concern. His bright blue eyes were now a stormy grey, kind of like the clouds that you see during a heavy storm. His brows were furrowed, giving him an appearance almost as if he were angry.

“You alright, Y/N? You’ve barely eaten your food and normally you finish before I do.” He attempted to joke, to bring about that smile that seemed to always fill him with warmth. He half expected you to look up at him with that cheeky little smile, a mischievous look in your eyes and say “You know, I would be offended by that, but I know why you eat so slow, Buck. I completely understand. You don’t want your dentures to fall out.” But it never came.

You don’t know what it was. Bucky asking you if you were alright or if it was simply all the pressure of just.. everything, finally breaking, but you could feel the hot tears in your eyes. They blurred your vision until you couldn’t really see the plate of the pancakes in focus. The dam had finally come apart and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You set the fork down and buried your face in your hands, your shoulders lightly shaking as you began to cry. All Bucky could do was stare for a few seconds, alarm written all over his face. Alarm and distress because he had no idea what just happened and if he had done something to upset you.

“Woah woah, hey. Sweetheart, hey. What’s wrong?” In seconds, Bucky was out of his side of the booth and scooting in beside you. You felt the comfort of his warmth, you felt his arm tentatively, almost hesitantly, slide around your shoulders and anchor you to him. You shook your head, attempting to calm down, to stop the tears but the more you tried, the more they seemed to come.

“I-I’m sorry, Bucky.. I.. I’m sorry.. I-I’m fine. Really.” You said, sniffling. It was apparent to you both that you were not alright and he really just wanted to get to the bottom of it. Or at least attempt to comfort you. But doing that in the middle of a diner with other people around wasn’t ideal.

“Hey, my apartment is only a short walk away. Come on, let’s get you out of here and somewhere more quiet.” You didn’t protest. You just nodded and slid out of the booth after he did. Bucky took out his wallet and placed a few bills on the table, paying for the uneaten food, and then quickly led you out of the establishment. He kept his hand on you, almost like an anchor. Whether it was to reassure you or himself, he didn’t know and you didn’t mind either. It was probably the only thing that kept you from retreating inside of your mind and giving in to the panic that so desperately wanted out.

You didn’t even realize that you had reached his apartment until he had led you up the stairs and you were standing behind him as he unlocked the door. He allowed you to step in first and then quickly followed behind you, shutting the door as he did so. You didn’t really get the chance to take in his apartment because he had ushered you to sit on his couch while he knelt in front of you.

“Alright, you’re scarin’ me here, doll. What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” The sheer look of concern and slight panic in his face and those pretty eyes of his made the waterworks come back again. You shook your head, your face scrunched up in anguish. Hot bullet tears fell from your eyes and left a wet path in their wake down your cheeks. Bucky wasn’t one to pry; he hated it when people tried to pry into his life and he didn’t do it to you, but he couldn’t stand the sight of seeing you cry. He couldn’t stand the sight of your once bright eyes and cheery smile just.. gone. You eyes were sad and your lips were pulled into a frown. “Talk to me, baby.” He practically pleaded.

“I just.. I don’t.. I don’t know how to explain it, Buck.” You cried. “I-I.. I just feel like..” You let out a frustrated cry when you couldn’t find the right words but Bucky was patient. He reached a hand up, cupping your cheek and wiping away the tears that kept falling. “I don’t feel.. happy. Everyday I wake up and I just, I feel fine for like a few seconds and then everything just comes crashing down on me. I can’t ever stop thinking. I can’t sleep at night. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like this, Bucky. And I feel fucking crazy. Sometimes I feel like you don’t even really like me. I feel.. hopeless, like nothing is ever going to be okay. I might feel okay for a few seconds but then it just goes away.” You explained, though you were sure that you probably sounded like a raving and ranting lunatic. “Before I met you, I liked being alone but I also hated it because when I was alone, I would just overthink and overthink and overthink about every fucking thing. If it wasn’t one thing it was another just giving me such bad anxiety and.. I don’t know what to do anymore, Bucky. I’m just tired of feeling like this. Feeling like nothing is ever going to be okay, like I’m never going to be okay. I just feel.. alone.”

His heart was well and truly broken. In the two months that he’d known you, he hadn’t known how badly you had struggled with your mental health. He hadn’t known the war that you fought within your mind, and how bad it had become. You were such saving grace for Bucky; you saved him from the wars inside of his mind. The constant feeling of guilt that he fought with on a daily basis, and now.. he just wanted to do the same for you. He wanted to shoulder some of the pain that you carried, the pain that seemed to be weighing you down. Both of his hands now cupped your cheeks so delicately, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. His blue eyes were shining, looking at you with not pity, but something like.. understanding. If anyone knew what you were feeling, it was Bucky.

“You’re not alone.” His smooth and rich voice was so soft, so gentle that it brought on a new set of tears. “You’re not alone, sweetheart. Not anymore. You know why? Cause you got me.” He said. “I know what it’s like to feel hopeless. To feel stuck in your head. To feel like nothing is ever gonna get better. I felt like that in Wakanda. Sometimes.. sometimes, we need help. And I know I’m not one to be talking considering that I don’t really like talking to my therapist or even going,” That roused the smallest of smiles from you. “I’m here. You know that, right? I’m here. You got me and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I don’t care if you have a million bad days. I don’t care if you feel like you’re bothering me. I’ll be there every time.” You two have gradually gravitated close to one another until your foreheads were pressed together. Bucky was still knelt in front of you on the couch, his hands still holding your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. The tears had stopped falling but you were still sniffling softly. “You’ve helped me. Even if you don’t know it. You’ve helped me.” He was whispering. There was no one but you two in his apartment but he was still whispering the words meant for only you to hear. “Now, let me help you. Please.”

“Okay. I trust you, Bucky.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #tfatws #mcu #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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after-witch · 4 years ago

Text

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you��d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit.

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend?

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave. You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off.

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right?

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don��t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful. He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #yandere ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #knives out #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes

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