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half-oz-eddie · 5 months

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“I’m sorry to do this, Billy, but, effective immediately, you’re fired.”

“Why? What’d I do?!” Billy exclaimed. “It’s almost Christmas! You can’t—“

“We lost a lot of money this year, Billy. You were laid off along with dozens of people. Pick up a severance package from Patty at the desk before you leave, okay? Best of luck to you.”

Billy stormed out of the advertising agency without that shitty severance package.

He couldn’t afford to lose this job. It sucked enough that the pool was only open during the summer and he needed to pay his way through school with a shitty phone job for an advertising company. But getting fired before Christmas really took the cake.

He didn’t want his father to find out he was jobless, or else he’d be homeless, so he went to a job agency and was handed an ad for an administrative assistant to a COO at H.H. Enterprises.

The pay was quintuple his salary at his old job. He didn’t think he had much of a shot with his limited experience and his age, but he completely lost hope when he learned what H.H. actually stood for.

Hugh Harrington, Steve Harrington’s father.

It had been 4 years since Billy and Steve even interacted since they fought. It was a brutal night that still haunted Billy, so he assumed it probably still haunted Steve. He expected Steve to be the one to stop him from getting the job he so desperately needed. Rightfully so, Billy believed.

What made it worse was finding out not only would the COO be interviewing him, Steve was the fucking COO!

“This is just my luck.” Billy mumbled to himself as he took the elevator to the 19th floor of the office building.

He dreaded the reaction to his face when he entered his office, but all Steve did was smile and offer him a handshake.

Billy reluctantly shook his hand and accepted the seat across from Steve.

“So, you worked at that shitty advertising agency, huh?” Steve skimmed through Billy’s very short resume.

“Uh…yeah, they…let me go the day before yesterday.”

“Jesus. Christmas is in like…3 weeks.”

“I know. They let a bunch of people go and tried to give us baskets as severance packages.”

Steve snickered. “That sounds like something they’d do.”

Billy sighed. “Look, St—" He stopped himself, not wanting to be so informal with a bigshot Chief Operating Officer. They were adults now in the working world, and he was at the bottom of the food chain. "Uh, Mr. Harrington—”

“Oh, god, no." Steve emphatically shook his head. "Please don’t. Mr. Harrington’s my old man. Just call me Steve.”

“Okay. Steve. Listen. I know we don’t have the best history, but I work my ass off and I really need this job—“

“No problem, you got it.”

That was easier than he thought. “A-are you sure?”

“Hey. I’d rather have a familiar face around the office for a change. Between you and me, this place is dreadful.”

“It’s just—after what happened between us…”

“We were…stupid high school seniors. It was nearly half a decade ago. I’m over it.”

If Steve was willing to let go, maybe Billy could finally let go of the pain of that night too.

“So…I got the job? When do I start?”

“Now, I guess.”

“Sure. What do you need me to do?”

Steve sighed. “I’ve never had an assistant to tell what to do before. Not that I wanna...boss you around or anything, I just—“ Steve groaned, resting his head on his desk. “I hate working with my dad.”

“You…want some coffee or something?”

“God, yeah. Coffee—coffee sounds great.”

“How d’you like it?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t really like coffee. Just keeps me from falling asleep. However you make it is fine. Also—got a smoke?”

Billy smirked as he stood. “Always do.”

Billy spent most of his days at work learning about Steve and only helping out when he wanted some coffee or seemed too overwhelmed.

He was able to pick up on all his body language. He’d file some paperwork when Steve was stressed, take a call when Steve was pinching the bridge of his nose because he had a migraine and offering him a cigarette when a phone call got too irritating because these old partners of Mr. Harrington’s were either hard of hearing or fucking hardheaded.

Steve never had to say a word when he needed something. Billy was right there by his side whenever he needed his help and support.

He even offered to massage Steve’s shoulders when he mentioned how awful Steve’s posture was.

“God, you are amazing.” Steve moaned as Billy worked out the stiffness in his shoulders. “I really needed you.”

“I’m here, pretty boy. You’ve got nothin’ to worry about now.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s nice. Right there.”

Billy’s hands felt so firm, yet so gentle on Steve’s aching shoulders. He almost wanted to ask him to massage more of his body, but that definitely wasn’t appropriate in the workplace.

Even though they knew each other. They were still strangers to one another, so Steve was getting to know an entirely new person—someone he found special.

“That’s perfect, Billy. Thank you.”

For some reason, that massage felt like more than a massage. Steve already missed Billy’s hands as they pulled away from his shoulders.

“Why don’t we take a break and have some lunch?” Steve offered after typing up exactly one sentence and taking 2 phone calls.

“Cool.” Billy agreed. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Y’know that donut shop across from Melvald’s? They have the best damn sandwiches I’ve ever had. They make this special mayo for their BLTs…you gotta try it.”

“Yeah? I can go get us some.”

Steve handed Billy some money from his pocket. It was more than enough for sandwiches. “Get some donuts and some hot chocolate too. I’m so damn tired of drinking coffee.”

“Anything else? Want me to stop by Melvad’s and pick up your snacks? Your supply drawer seemed a little empty last time I checked.”

“Please. You know I get moody without my Pringles.”

“I know. That’s why I asked.” Billy smiled.

“Hey, Billy.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’m good at this job? It’s just—I feel like such an idiot sitting at this desk.”

“You’re doing fine, Steve. You’re damn good at your job. You get your paperwork done on time, your dad’s only been here like—twice to ask you anything and he didn’t even criticize you as much as the first time. You answer all your calls, you show up to all your meetings promptly—“

“Because of you. I do all of that because of you.”

“I’m an assistant, Steve. It’s my job to make sure you’re on the ball. But I’m not in those meetings with those old guys charming them with your ideas. Again. Your ideas. You have a vision for the future of the company.”

“I just…I feel like I’m under a lot of pressure.”

“You are. You’re the COO. It’s a big job. But don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I’ll try not to be. Thanks again, Billy. For always listening to me complain. I never hear you complain once.”

Billy chuckled. “I just complain about you when I get home.”

“Really?” Steve pouted. “Am I that bad?”

Billy's chuckle turned into a boisterous laugh. “I’m kidding. You’re real easy to work with. I’m glad I got this job.”

“Me too.”

They made endearing eye contact, smizing at one another for what felt like an eternity before Billy cleared his throat and turned away.

“I’ll um...go grab lunch and your snacks. Be back soon.”

“Don’t take too long. I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“You’re a big boy, Steve. You can survive an hour without me.”

“An hour?!” Steve whined. “I don’t think I can.”

“Jesus, you’re so clingy.” Billy grinned. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. I promise.”

Steve relaxed his shoulders and his face softened into a smile. “Thank you.”

Billy drove to Melvalds and picked up Steve’s favorite snacks. He got 4 rolls of pringles and a pack of Oreos, then ordered their sandwiches, donuts and hot chocolate.

He wanted to get Steve a Christmas gift, since Christmas was in a few days, but what do you buy a man who has everything? Billy decided to spend the day trying to figure it out.

When he got off the elevator, he could overhear the muffled sounds of arguing through Steve’s closed office door.

“I’m not bringing a date to the Christmas Party!”

“Again?! When are you ever gonna meet a nice girl? You can’t keep showing up without a date. You’re 22, almost 23 years old. No spouse, no family. You look pathetic! You used to have all those girls on your arm. What happened?”

“Nothing happened! I just haven’t dated anyone since I broke up with Nancy!”

“You couldn’t even do that right, could you?!”

“She left me for another guy! That isn’t my fault!”

“It’s every bit your fault. You weren’t enough. You never are! You never apply yourself to anything!“

“I’ve been applying myself here!”

“Yeah, for the past couple of weeks, sure. But for months before that, you were falling behind, missing calls, showing up late—“

“Dad. I’m trying to change!”

“…Yeah. You definitely need to.”

Billy stepped back into the elevator, pretending he’d just gotten off on the floor as Mr. Harrington stepped out of Steve’s office.

“Good afternoon, sir.” Billy greeted with a nod.

“Hello, Billy.” He greeted in a monotonous tone as he entered the elevator.

Billy rushed down the hall to Steve’s office to check on him.

“Hey, pretty boy. I got your snacks and our lunch!” He said with a big smile, hoping to pick up Steve’s mood.

“Can you believe my dad? He comes here just to berate me about not having a girlfriend, throw Nancy in my face and make me feel like shit.”

“Yeah, I…heard everything. If it makes you feel any better. I don’t think you’re pathetic or that you’re not enough. I think you’re pretty great.”

“So what if I don’t bring a date to the office party? Why does he care about appearances more than his own son?”

“It’s just the kinda guy he is, I guess.” Billy shrugged as he unwrapped Steve’s sandwich and filled his snack drawer. “Eat. We’ve still got another 6 hours ahead of us.”

“I love when you say “we.” Because, Y’know, it’s true. We make a great team.”

“We do, yeah.”

“It’d be kinda funny if I took you to the Christmas party as my date, yeah?”

Billy took a deep breath. “Uh…wouldn’t your dad hate that? My dad would definitely hate that.”

“Actually, no. My dad doesn’t care. He’s always talking about modernizing and hiring “more queers for diversity” or something like that.” Steve said, making quotation marks with his fingers.

Billy laughed. “I guess that’s why I’m here.” He said as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“What?” Steve pointedly glanced up at him.

“What?” He innocently chewed his food.

“So then you should definitely be my date!”

“Why so insistent? You queer too?”

“My mom kinda outed me a few months ago. She didn’t know, she just…guessed.”

“How’d your dad react?”

“He said he didn’t think a twink like me would have much luck in the dating pool.”

Billy bursted out into a fit of laughter. “So your dad thinks you're just taking it lying down, huh?"

“I’m not! The two times I’ve been with guys in college, I topped!”

“Oh yeah? Living up to your king Steve persona still?”

“I-it’s just…it works for me, Y’know?” Steve chuckled, obvious blush kissing his face.

“Works for me too.” Billy smirked at him.

“Can uh…” Steve chuckled. “Can you work overtime tonight?”

“Over, under, from the back…wherever you need me, I’m here.”

“You’re not talking about work, are you?”

“You’re not talking about work either.”

They challenged each other with mischievous glances.

“You still haven’t told me if you’ll accompany me to the Christmas party.”

“Course I will. I’d love nothing more than for Mr. Harrington to think you’re my twink.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Steve chuckled.

Billy shot Steve the most alluring smile and intense gaze from those ocean blue eyes. “You better.”

#a holiday gift for y'all #and a treat for me for beating covid #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fanfiction #ivy.doc #caliscoops.doc

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honey-im-hotdog · 2 years

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Big Ol’ Batsy III

Batman/Bruce Wayne x Reader

Author’s Note: HEY LOOK I DIDN’T TAKE A YEAR THIS TIME!!

As always, reader is supposed to be gn+vague, so if you catch any mistakes related to that please let me know.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: swearing; violence (mugging, knife, threats, fighting—but nothing too graphic); migraines; vomiting; fear of dying (and related self deprecation); angst; hurt and comfort; and religious imagery, or at least I tried cuz a) I’m an atheist and b) I used to believe that Bonnie and Clyde were from the Bible...

Summary: You know you shouldn’t go out after sundown, but your head has been killing you. Turns out, it’s not gonna be your head that kills you—but wait! Thank God for the B-man! (Aka the compulsory “he saves you!” part.)

Series Masterlist — Masterpost

———————————

Batman is a thing. He’s simply just there. Everyone knows about him, but barely anyone has actually seen him, let alone met him. So, Gotham’s masked vigilante is just…a thing.

He has been on the news so much, so often, that the people of Gotham have become desentized. It’s generally a good thing if you didn’t meet the man, actually. There are rumors—of course there are a ton of those floating around: he’s a shapeshifter; he’s a vampire; he’s a metahuman that controls the shadows; he’s a demon.

Laying here, on the dirty, wet concrete in an alleyway that reeks of piss, head woozy and sluggish, with the shadows bending to swallow each of your assailants, you can only think of one thing: if he is a demon, you’ll spend the rest of your life worshiping the Devil.

——————————————————————————

The last couple of days had been absolutely horrible for you. First you were stood up, which really fucked with your self esteem. (You’ve been trying to cheer yourself up by saying that they were probably a criminal anyway, and that you dodged a major bullet.) Then, the bank you go to was robbed—again—leaving you with just enough money to pay your bills, meaning you’ve been surviving on whatever you can scrape together from your kitchen. Today at work, your pompous ass coworker thought it would be a good idea to micromanage you. And if all that wasn’t enough, you’ve had a migraine since yesterday.

Opening your medicine cabinet, you let out a string of curses. Great, no fucking painkillers. The sun had just set, maybe an hour ago? You knew taking the chance could mean losing a few possessions at best, and losing your life at worst, but the pounding in your head and the swirling of acid in your stomach would probably have killed you anyway. You had your handy dandy knife, you would just have to be quick. The convenience store is only two blocks down, you tried to hype yourself.

You really should have tried to sit through it tonight.

Everything had been fine. Nothing had happened on your walk to the store; no robbery at the store. You went in, found your preferred painkiller, grabbed a Gatorade to help your stomach, and checked out. It took eleven minutes, max.

The way back is when shit took a turn for the worst.

The bright fluorescent lights in the store had messed with your head even more, the heavy metal music coming from the cashier’s small bluetooth speaker grinding your brain into a mush. There so is a right time to rock. Hell, walking around made you want to empty your guts alone.

You only had the homestretch left, quick and placid and you’d be home, finally able to chug down some relief. But, of course, shit never works out that way, especially not in Gotham.

Walking fast past an alleyway, even in broad daylight, was a practice every citizen had mastered, so how you were yanked into the depths of the darkened space is beyond you. The world tipped over, the pressure behind your eyes going insane. You felt the vomit rush up.

You had barely stumbled into the brick wall shoulder first when the front of your hoodie was grabbed and you were pulled forward, your head a few paces slower than the rest of your body. You barely heard one of the men hiss, “Give us whatever the fuck you got on you!” before your head caught up to your feet, and you puked what little contents you had in your stomach onto your assaulters. And surprise surprise, they didn’t seem to really like that. The guy on your left slammed your head against the wall, detouring from the agenda they originally had planned.

The explosion of pain in your skull had you seeing stars. You’re sure you had blacked out for a second, because the next thing you knew you were huddled on the ground and a leg was swinging into your right thigh. You had just enough sense to block your head from any further injury. Which really helped cushion your temple when an elbow had you slumping to the side.

The beating stopped as one of the assholes crouched down in front of you, brandishing something shiny in your face. A knife, you were quick to realize, but not just any knife, your knife. You weren’t sure when you dropped it; in your lightheaded state, you don’t even remember taking it out of your pocket in the first place.

“I’m gonna cut that pretty little face off you, cunt. Don’t think the homeless around here will mind a body without a face, do ya boys?” Their cruel laughter echoed inside your ears.

You may not have been there fully, but your groggy mind was able to comprehend one thing: you were going to die, and in the worst way possible.

You always thought you’d say something witty and hilarious for your last words, it’s something you had actually thought of numerous times (you do live in Gotham). Though when the time has come, you can’t think of anything.

You’re scared. You are absolutely terrified, dying in a dark corner where no one will find your body for a while. You aren’t anyone important, why would the cops look for you? You never got to say goodbye to your loved ones, never got to tell them you love them and are honored to have known them. You’re just gonna die; cold, in pain, alone.

So you squeezed your eyes shut: by God the last thing you saw was not going to be these pigshits.

But the knife never came. The pain that was so readily promised a second ago didn’t touch you.

Holy baby Jesus above! You thought right before you opened your eyes.

No, not God. The Devil himself.

The world felt murky as you tried to open your eyes wider, tried to take in the scene before you. The shadows, it would seem, had come alive. Twisting and turning, this way and that, wrapping each assailant in a terrifying embrace.

Then you saw him. They were right, you thought, that is a demon, straight from hell. The whole thing happens like an old film, a stop motion film. Shadows, rain, blood—it all mixed together in a dazzling, macabre dance in the dark alleyway.

God, you were told, is a good, pure, and gentle being. This? This is raw. It’s anger, fear, pain, and vengeance. This can’t be the doing of the big man upstairs (but really, when has God ever been a good guy).

You didn’t pray for anyone to save you, but the Devil still heard. The Devil understood.

The rain eventually drips into your eyes one too many times. The darkness behind your eyes is comforting, the cold floor numbs you, but the tilt of your head is adding to your migraine. So you lay down on your back. Nothing feels real to you anymore, so you let the chill around you envelop you completely.

So lost in the harrowing buzz coming from within, you start at the warm hand placed on your shoulder. You roll your head to look over at the owner, pointy ears being the first thing to catch your eye.

“Do those,” you creak out hoarsely, “do those have a purpose?” You push up into a semi-sitting, semi-leaning position in front of Batman. “They are so fucking rediculous.”

You begin laughing at the absurdity of anyone fearing his pointy ears, but your breath hitches and your croaked laughter quickly turns into broken sobs. Getting onto your knees, you throw your arms around him.

You cling to him. One hand fisting his cape and the other pushing against his shoulder blade. You press into him, pulling him into you, almost like you’re trying to disappear into the darkness he seemingly is able to control. Trying to leave this realm, this reality. Disappear into an abyss where you don’t hurt anymore, where you don’t feel the venomous fear leaking through every vein in your body. You cling to him harder. Your cries muffle against his collarbone, desperate whimpers ring out in the now-silent alleyway.

You sit like that for several minutes, but you eventually push away from him. Not too much, you don’t think you’ll survive if you separate from his warmth, so you only move your upper body back to look at him.

“Thank you,” you sniff. Your voice is shot to hell.

“I—”

“I know i-it was stupid of me to come out alone at this time, but my head really fucking hurt.” Your eyes shift lower and lower throughout the sentence, feeling ashamed of your own stupidity. You live in Gotham, for fuck’s sake, even infants know not to leave their house after sundown.

You want to cry some more but the pounding in your skull has gotten so loud that you don’t hear Batman call out to you. He grabs your attention by squeezing you a little. You were so lost in your fear, and his warmth, that you didn’t realize, until now, that he had also wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s okay.” His voice is low in a whisper, but still firm enough to make you hold eye contact. “It’s all right. Can you get up?”

You manage to breathe out a small affirmation, feeling like you’ll vomit on him if you had to speak anymore.

He slides his arms up to hold your biceps, pulling you away from the dirty ground in a swift move. His arms flex in an effort to steady you, before he does a little twirl counter-clockwise…

——————————————————————————

You wake up with a tiny groan. The familiar comfortness of your bed makes you feel safe. The room is dark and the city’s ever present noise is dull and distant, adding a soothing effect to the atmosphere.

“Here.”

A gloveless hand holds out a dose of painkillers to you, along with a Gatorade bottle. You squint up at the costumed man for a second before you grab the medicine. He gently places a hand behind your head, cradling your neck as he helps you sit up just enough to down the liquid.

“Your head wound is fine, nothing serious. Make sure you take care of it properly for the next couple days.” And as an afterthought he quietly adds, “your First Aid kit is impressive, I didn’t notice that other time.”

That makes you beam. “Right?!” The thing is practically your prized possession at this point; people usually brag about their car or their kids, you brag about your First Aid kit. You had gone out the very next day after patching him up to restock it.

The past couple days and events finally start to catch up to you, drowsiness seeping into the space behind your eyes, turning the world a little cotton-y. “Next time, make sure to wear the proper uniform, Nurse Vengeance.” You giggle at the image of Batman wearing a slutty Halloween nurse costume over his Batsuit.

The Knight shifts his hand from beneath your now resting head, to swipe an eyelash from your cheek, “Let’s not have a next time of this, okay?”

You’re too far gone to realize just how soft his voice has become, or the fact that his hand is still resting against your cheek. Before sleep fully envelopes you, you breathe out, “I was really scared, B. Thank you.”

You dream of bats and caves and demons; you dream of hell. You dream of him, reaching down to pull you into his darkness, into his warmth…

And slutty nurse costumes.

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poisonousquinzel · 2 years

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Hey y'all, I really hate to be making a post like this, but in true 2020 2.0 fashion, life has been... rough.

I've been trying to get a job in my city since May, but I've been denied because of my health issues.

We also don't have a car. And our town is small so while we technically have a bus, it comes by near my house once per day and isn't reliable.

My mom can't work and my step dad's online work has been stretched dry recently so he's been making bare minimum for months.

I had been under the impression in the beginning of May that I would have the assistance of my parents in this, I've never done most of this before and they made it sound like my mom would help me.

However that wasn't really the case, personal stuff happened for them and I don't necessarily blame them for that, but then in June I got denied for a job because "I have too many health issues" and my step dad told me that we'd get back to it after my birthday. (Post 12th)

I've asked my step dad every morning when I wake up what we're going to do that day, because he had said he was going to be the one handling the job stuff when we started again.

And every day we've done whatever it is he said. We walked up to 7-11, turned in an application, looked up online jobs, etc.

We did the same on Wednesday and the only reason I didn't keep looking into more of them that afternoon was because I had a migraine. And when I have migraines they're not just headaches and they're not just migraines.

It's something I've been working through with my doctor about, because my previous long term doctor since childhood was completely incompetent at her job.

When I get migraines, it makes me nauseous. And being nauseated makes my heart slow down and I faint or collapse.

I can't sleep, it hurts to close my eyes or move them behind my eyelids. It feels like it's sparking against metal with every movement.

I've had to go to the hospital for it in the past when I collapsed into a pile of bags and was barely breathing, my previous doctor just... didn't look at the hospital's report on my visit. Like when I tell you in hindsight she really sucked, she really fucking sucked.

So, yeah, I slept a lot on Wednesday. I wasn't thrilled about it either.

And I told my step dad that I'd do all that stuff on Thursday.

My physical state was pretty visibly clear, I couldn't leave my extra darkened room without wearing sunglasses even though it was 8:30 at night.

But, then on Thursday instead I got into a really heated discussion with the two of them.

And... I am just very, very tired now.

I panic called my therapist 5 times in less than 10 minutes afterwards. It was a really bad day.

Thankfully I was able to get back to back emergency appointments with her and my doctor yesterday morning so dw emotionally wise. But I don't know how I'd be fairing if I hadn't been able to get those scheduled.

But Long Story Short:TLDR: we are a couple of weeks away from being on the streets.

Or in a shelter. We wouldn't be able to bring any of our cats. We would lose all of them.

I don't want to beg, but I suppose I am cause I'm terrified

We're behind on bills and next months are just around the corner, we've run out of local resources here that can help. I don't know all of the specifics, but I do know we're out of options.

If you're in a good financial situation and you feel like it, if you can, literally anything would help.

It'd mean the world. I don't want to end up on the streets or in a shelter, and I really don't want to lose my cats.

I can't.

They're the only thing keeping me going, so, please

PayPal •

[email protected]

Cashapp • $Poisonousquinzel

reblogs and signal boosting are also super appreciated!!

#signal boost #financial help #donations #rent assistance

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la-undercover-latina · 8 months

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Remembrance

A/N: So I know that Hange’s birthday is Sept. 5th and I had full intentions of posting this yesterday, but I got hit with a migraine.

Summary: Modern AU! Levi and Y/N’s daughter meets her namesake on their birthday

“Miss Ackerman please report to the office. Your parents are picking you up,” Zoey’s teacher spoke, after hanging up the phone.

Zoey Ackerman packed up her things, assuming that she had a doctors appointment that her dad forgot to mention when he dropped her off at school.

“Daddy?” Zoey asked when she saw her father standing at the front office desk, signing her out of school for the day.

“Come on, your mom is in the car,”

“Is mama having my little brother?” Zoey asked. That was the other idea bouncing around her brain.

“Not yet baby girl,” Levi grabbed her hand but she looked up at him with her mother’s puppy eyes, and he sighed, giving up and picking her up, slinging her backpack over his shoulder.

“So where are we going?”

“We’re going somewhere special,” Levi smiled, staunchly fighting the tears from falling.

“Okay daddy,” the 5 year old assumed that it meant that he didn’t want to say that he was taking her to the park while they were still on her school grounds.

It was then that the pair got to the SUV parked, and Zoey bounced as the car came into view.

“Alright Zoey, I’ll let you buckle yourself in. And I’ll just check,”

“Yes daddy,” Zoey smiled, missing one of her front teeth that fell out this morning during breakfast. An event that she made sure all of her friends knew for a fact. Out of the kindergarteners, she was the first to lose a tooth.

It was then that the 5 year old started and successfully got herself buckled in, which Levi checked and gave her a soft smile.

“So Zoey, baby. Do you know what today is?” Y/N asked, Turing around on the passenger seat while Levi got in the driver’s, her heart heavy with the significance of today.

“Septemboo 5th,”

“Close baby, September. But yes. Do you know what’s special about today?”

“Is it my birthday?” Zoey asked, hoping that she would be able to sweet talk her parents into getting her an early birthday present.

“Not yet Zoey. It’s someone else’s birthday,” Y/N knew that she would have to be the one to talk through this with the child.

“Who’s? Mommy, we didn't go shopping!” Zoey felt panic rush through her veins at going to a birthday party and not getting a present.

“Baby do you remember the story of daddy’s friend H-Hange?” Y/N finally choked out and Zoey nodded.

“Yeah daddy told me how they were best friends,”

“Yeah baby, daddy and Hange were best friends. That’s where your name came from. Mommy and Daddy named you after them,” Y/N spoke softly.

“Hange died before you were born Zoey, so since today is their birthday, we’re going to their grave and putting flowers down,” Levi spoke, putting the car in drive and heading towards the graveyard.

When the trio got there, Zoey finally saw the bouquet of flowers in her mother’s hands.

“Mommy, can I carry?” Zoey asked and Y/N nodded before handing over the flowers.

“Follow daddy,” Y/N told her daughter as Levi led the way to where his best friend was buried.

“Hey four eyes,” Levo spoke softly as he stopped at the tombstone.

“Brought you something for your birthday,” he spoke again and put his hand on Zoey’s shoulder.

“Go on sweetie,” Y/N gently pushed the child.

“Do I just lay them down daddy?” Zoey asked, never have brought flowers to a grave before.

“Here, I’ll help,” Levi knelt down and gently put his hand over Zoey’s and laid the bouquet at the base.

“What kind of flowers are these daddy?”

“Poppies. Mommy said they are for people who died serving their country. And these are forget me nots. They’re for when someone close to you dies but you choose to never forget them,”

“Is that why you named me Zoey?”

“No baby,” Y/N finally knelt down.

“It was my idea. Daddy loved it though. The reason I wanted to name you Zoey was a couple of reasons. For one, anytime Hange felt my belly when you were still growing, even if you were sleeping, you’d wake up and kick. Also, Hange was a person that was courageous, curious, and smart. And I hoped that you would have those qualities too, and you do,” Y/N begun to tickle Zoey.

“So yes, you were named after Hange. But it wasn’t to keep their memory alive. Everyone who knew them does that with their own memories, and that’s another reason we brought them flowers on their birthday,” Y/N finished.

“Happy birthday Hange,”

Taglist:

@postwarlevi

#aot #attack on titan #levi ackerman #snk #hange zoë #hange zöe #hange aot #hange snk #hange birthday

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mlobsters · 7 months

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supernatural s10e1 black (w. jeremy carver)

this show started airing when i was 25 and i wonder how i would have received it then. anyway, was appreciating that i don't have to wait to find out what the demon!dean fallout will be. ...actually i don't think i'm up for this today. tbc

the sam that dean was expecting while he was in purgatory

so is this a padalecki injury or a sam injury? he (jared) seems pretty accident prone. i'm in a rather dismal mood, might need to push this off to day 3.

all right we're back, third time's a charm! with a worse-than-usual migraine. i think that's part of why i was feeling so irritable and shitty yesterday evening. prodromal situation

.asp made me giggle. first job doing web development stuff, i did asp back in 2000/2001.

Active Server Pages (ASP) is Microsoft's first server-side scripting language and engine for dynamic web pages. It was first released in December 1996, before being superseded in January 2002 by ASP.NET.

okay, drama

CASTIEL I can help. SAM Cas...we tried that. CASTIEL Sam...you can't blame what that demon did to your shoulder on me; you were out of... SAM I'm not, I'm not blaming anything on you. What happened, happened, and...you need to be worrying about yourself. I really shouldn't have bothered you.

cas has got the heavenly tuberculosis now too. if tumblr's search wasn't broken i'd link to my post where i think i called the... trials that? maybe

SAM Good. I'm alright. I'm just...tired, you know. Be better when we get him back...after...after I kick his butt. CASTIEL I miss him.

this is where you say "me too", sam. also

CASTIEL Well then, who wrote the note? If there's any chance...any chance at all that Dean is still... SAM Still...even remotely Dean?

and then he just hangs up? i laughed. were you raised in a barn, sam??? (i mean.) say goodbye :p

oh no. nonono. i cannot deal with dean singing badly. i really dislike this tonal whiplash that seems more common in these later seasons. big serious feelings then straight into ha ha bad singing, witty banter with the lady and crowley, extremely cheesy western standoff music and acting over foosball.

is this what crowley wants to do with dean? replace sam? definitely isn't going to be beating the simp charges if that is actually the case. please be slightly more complicated in motivation, crowley, i know you have it in you

is demon!dean's voice even lower?

she reminds me of a mix between samantha smith (mary winchester) and katie cassidy (og ruby, my fave). maybe this is the same problem i have with blond guys. all occupy the same spot in the brain

funny how parting his hair makes him look so different. it's a good look on him with it ruffled up

sam of course has a new haircut, not my favorite. kind of a weird bob in the back

i know they're committed to the classic car bit, but that yacht cas is driving must get like 5mpg. lol this site where you can report actual usage, only 2 people with similar models - one person getting around 8mpg, other 10

laughed out loud. handy they put the little hashtag viva abaddon on their message to have sam conveniently stumble upon

CROWLEY Moose. Took you long enough. Your brother and I were beginning to wonder if you'd hit another dog. You know?

ooh burn

SAM I don't know how you did this, what kind of... Black-magic stunt you pulled, but hear me --I will save my brother or die trying. CROWLEY You know what tickles me about all this? It's what's really eating you up. You don't care that he's a demon. Heck, you've been a demon. We've all been demons. No, it's that he's with me and he's having the time of his life. You can't stand the fact that he's mine.

um, ok

SAM He's not your pet. CROWLEY My pet? He's my best friend, my partner in crime. They'll write songs about us, graphic novels. “The Misadventures of Growley and Squirrel." Dean Winchester completes me, and that's what makes you lose your chickens.

tough but fair

boop boop tracking

oh nic, you thought the heavenly politics plotline was done, sweet summer child

DEAN Okay, see, the deal was we howl at the moon -- no time stamp, no expiration date. CROWLEY We've howled. We've bayed. We've done extraordinary things to triplets, all of which have been massively entertaining. I will treasure our Flickr albums forever.

porn of dean with crowley and triplets, okay. that's... a lot

CROWLEY Think of it --the king of hell, Dean Winchester by his side. Together we rule. Together we create the perfect hell. And all of this that's bloomed between us never ends. We're not ending the party. We're just moving the party. Out with the club circuit, in with the stadium tour.

all right so he's tolerating dean's hot demon summer earthly antics but really just wants dean to be his knight in hell

DEAN He traced the call. CROWLEY My bad. I guess he'll be here by morning -- the latest. DEAN You sold me out. Well, that's just lovely. CROWLEY I don't know what's going on with you. I truly don't. But I've had just about enough of it. Sold you out? Try “doing you a favor.” everything I've done for you for the past six months -- the mark, the First Blade, midwifing you back to life, offering you a seat by my side -- has been a favor, a gift, whether you see it or you don't. Take the night. Decide. You know where to find me.

midwifing mhmm.

i'm vaguely aware of some stuff that happens between sam and demon!dean but i don't know the timeline per usual. though i did sneak a look at something so i know when it ends episode-wise

feel like we (i) need a comparison chart of soulless vs moc!demonization

more karaoke? please. 😩 this little drama with the woman from the roadhouse, i guess they're trying to show facets of how he's different and how he's not? like there must be part of him still in there if he suggests they go somewhere together?

and sam's kidnapped, okay. insert me complaining about too much shit happening. there's some little guitar riffs in this scene that remind me of twilight, hard. i thought it was in the scene where edward comes racing in to save bella from getting assaulted with his fancy volvo moves, but wasn't. not worth trying to dig up i'm sure

DEAN No, you listen to me. There's no trade. There's no meet-up. There's no nothing -- except the 100% guarantee that, somewhere down the road, I will find you, and I will kill you. COLE Well, that'll be a cold comfort to your dead brother. DEAN I told him to let me go. So whatever jam he's in now, that is his problem. COLE Yeah, well, I'll be sure to pass that on to him as I'm slitting his throat. DEAN Yeah, you do that, 'cause he knows me. And he knows damn sure that if I am one thing, I am a man of my word.

i dunno. i can see how this should be fun, in theory. i am not feeling it and it feels like a pacing plus the couldn't-care-less angel stuff being wedged in issue. and/or i'm extra weary of inter(intra)brother stress

almost prolonged this to 4 days because i can't shut up and it's late

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 10x01 #jeremy carver #demon dean

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arisherifeu · 2 months

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Broken People Part III

Author’s Note: Im asking myself how did this story ended up getting part III? That’s the the thing about impulsive writing. It just happens. ໒(⊙ᴗ⊙)७✎▤

WARNING ‼️- DRUG ABUSE

Part I Part II Part IV

Last night felt like fever dream for Lynette. House came, struck a fight, James got angry, she confessed she was using drugs to stabilise her chronic migraines that comes every time she moves and today, she was still not going to work. It was already 5 am and she attentively watches James sleeping on the couch where he offered to stay for the night.

Lynette went over at the couch but she sat on the floor, her back against the couch. Carefully trying not to wake James up. She brought her knees to her chests as she contemplates on what to do with herself. She knew what she needed to do. But she was scared. She loves being a doctor. She didn’t want to lose any credibility. A part of her was hoping that House wouldn’t say anything at all. Not to anybody. Because she heard stories about how ruthless House can be. She was scared and intimidated by how powerful House was at the hospital. Would she be spared from his ruthlessness? It wasn’t fair to her. Because House was just as guilty as he supposed to be. This hospital would be bankrupt if anyone exposed what House did to his patients despite saving their life. Lynette was thinking hard. She got too worried.

But a gentle pat on her back relinquished her from all the evil thoughts. She lifted her head to the side to see Wilson sat up, looking at her endearingly. “I hope you’re feeling a little bit better today.” He wished.

And to be honest it kinda did. Just a little bit better.

______________________________________

James decided to stay at home together so they can talk things out today. He was just so glad that he already settled down all his patients charts and the medicine to be prescribed to them today. So, he doesn’t have to worry about work at all. While Lynette got herself sorted out in the shower room, James helped himself to her kitchen trying to make something out with the things he found in the fridge. For someone who doesn’t eat much like Lynette, he was just really glad the fridge and the pantry were stocked with food. He decided to make a heavy breakfast for her to start off the day. So he managed to make eggs, toasts and sausages with cut up apples on the side.

Lynette walks in the kitchen smelling something so delicious. With towel on her head, cropped shirt that display her awfully skinny body with protruding bones in her baggy sized jogger pants that dropped lower than her waist. James unconsciously eyes her again. He couldn’t stop worrying. Hoping that she will never ever fell and break her bones.

“I made a heavy breakfast.” He smiles.

“It smells nice, James.” She smiles back.

They both sat together at the eating table. Face to face as they eat in silence. Lynette didn’t gobble up the food at once like she did before. She was slightly scared that she might throw up again so she ate slower as she can.

“I can’t thank you enough..” she started. She was still looking at her food. To be honest, she was still shy. She was timid as she was yesterday after listening to the whole ordeal about the fight yesterday with House.

“It’s fine. I am just sorry that he went through your personal record. But trust me, he means well. He just can’t put it into good words..He understands..you know hes on vicodin..” James began.

Lynette just kept eating in silent. James doesn’t push her with anything except to eat silently with her too because he knows its hard for her to admit to everything thats happening. He was also worried about the fact that the relationship started off on the wrong foot.

“I lost my dad at the hospital I used to work before Princeton..I jeopardised the whole operation thinking that I knew better than the doctors who had his chart. That was my dad and I couldn’t let anything happen to him. He was the only I had left. So I..” Lynette stopped, subtly choked on her food. Trying hard to swallow the food with the glass of water in her hands.

“You don’t have to tell me the story if you don’t want to. You don’t owe me anything.” James clarify. He held her left hand. Lynette looks deeply into his eyes, feeling comforted but she knew in the end he will found out about her maybe from someone else’s mouth so she decided to come clean with it. It’s the best way to get this relationship stabilised.

“You just need to understand, I am not the person you know today or these 6 months before. I was different. How I was back then was just the consequences of self negligence. I did it, with my dad in my mind hoping he would still be alive on that table when the doctors cut him. But I was wrong, it was never the heart, even when he has the condition before. It was his head. But even with all the blackmails I did to the doctors, to force them carve open my dad’s heart. It was already enough to send me into some sort of vortex. My license should have been revoked but I was saved. Then all I know I was already here. Then my migraine came and haunt me. It wouldn’t stop hurting. I feel pain every time I move anywhere. So I took the pills and they help.” She stopped there.

By then, James already stopped eating his food. James silently stares at her unknowingly that he has been caressing her left hand and never let go. Even when the story ended. Lynette’s heart has never been that fast. She couldn’t hear herself breathe because of how strong the heartbeat of her heart is. Her hand started shaking. James noticed and he just held it more tight. Not letting go. He sat silently. Grieving with her as she tries her best but her body’s started to shake, quite vigorously. James got so worried that he pulled Lynette from the kitchen and bring her straight to the bed where he covers her with the blanket. She was already on the withdrawal phase he suspected.

“When did you stop taking the pills?” He questioned. Lynette was already shaking profusely with sweat all over her forehead. “Last week..” she said but almost sounded like a whisper.

“You didn’t take any pills then? At all?” He questioned again sternly. But Lynette can only shook her head trying to deal with the pain in her head.

“You’re doing so well. You look better. You’re gonna get better in a couple more days.” He motivates. James was astonished at the woman’s durability. James passed her a cup of water to chug. Which helps to stabilise her electrolytes. James hugged her the best way he possibly could so he could stop the shaking. Which did help Lynette to become more calmer.

She was way worse before in the last week when she first stopped taking the pills. Her head pain worsens, nausea and vomiting everywhere. She doesn’t even have the energy to clean her own mess that she would leave it for a few days till maggots formed around it. She slept on her bed for a few days dealing with her pain, crying. But she had to go to work. She was so good at hiding her pain when nobody else watches. Even James didn’t realised that her demeanour changed. Lynette can only feel glad that the withdrawal doesn’t seemed as bad and that only her head hurts and she was glad that James doesn’t see her worst side.

Lynette suddenly shot up, James was taken aback. Lynette started running towards the toilet and vomit all the content that she had. James trailed behind and held her hair up, stroking her back while she vomits all that she can.

“We gotta go to the hospital, Lynette.” James started.

“No. I am not going anywhere near a hospital.” Lynette resisted.

“But we gotta do scans, we gotta do MRI. We can find if there’s anything we can do to subside your migraine.” He tries to convince. Lynette slowly closed the lid of the toilet, and flushed the contents. She sat with her back against the wall, looking at James weakly. She already has to deal with the pain but now she has to resist James knowing James can just force her to get the scans. But she was adamant, she can fix this on her own. James started to spoon her, and carry her with ease to the couch. He was worried at the lack of fat she has in her body considering her weight was like a feather.

James gave her more water by filling up a bottle and hand it to her to drink. She drank willingly. James also brought her unfinished food to the couch table, in hoping she can try to eat again. Lynette willingly takes another bite at the toast, slowly chewing. She was afraid to vomit again but she was hungry. She needed the energy. Thankfully, she managed to eat everything even though she took around an hour and a half to finished them all.

By then, she has some energy to walk around in the house. Just pacing around. James watches attentively to everything she was doing. She decided to do housework and started uncovering her bed sheets and pillow sheets but James sighed and went up to her.

“I will do it. If you let me?” He requested but more commanding. He held her forearms very gently.

“It’s fine, James. I need something to distract myself right now.” Lynette said looking at him, feeling kind of cranky.

“But what you need is rest..” he looked at her with his puppy dog eyes.

“Is that how you flirt with most women?” She scoffed, feeling blushed looking at his soft eyes.

“It still works.” James smiling shyly at her.

Lynette softened. She looked at James with the most smitten look on her face that she immediately blushed right after. She went over to her drawer to get fresh sheets to hide her blushes.

“Can I ask you a question?” James asked.

“Shoot.” Lynette responds after passing him right side of the bed sheet so James could fit his side of the edge.

“Do you have someone before this?” He questioned nonchalantly while Lynette stopped in her tracks, feeling weirded out by the question.

“Well I haven’t been thinking about it for quite some time now..had that monkey love when I was at school..but that was like 7 years ago. I couldn’t be bothered with this because of my dad.” She answered and she finally got the left side edge fitted on to the mattress, leaving the pillow sheets left.

“Is it still recent? About your dad?” James asked again.

“Well yeah..it’s technically last year. Tomorrow night should be his first death anniversary.” Lynette answered finally got the new bedsheet sorted in with James’s help. Lynette lay on the bed feeling a bit tired just from doing that small chore. James just sat beside her, arms stretched out holding his weight while his legs stretched across the bed.

“I’m not just some damaged goods right..?” Lynette questions.

“Why do you think so?” James asked worryingly. Lynette took a minute to answer because she was nervous, so she decided to lay on her other side so she doesn’t have to look at James.

“I don’t like the look in your eyes James. You’re looking at me as if Im damaged beyond reparable. You look nice. But your eyes are telling me I am just too different than any other person you saw. It’s the same look you give House too.. sometimes I see how you looked at him and I wondered if it was true…that I am just the girl version of him. Thinking that if you could fix me .. maybe there’s a way for you to fix him..” Lynette finished. James looked defeated. He loves Lynette for she was but she was needy. She needed someone on her side and James decided to stepped up to the role. He hated how House was right that he always comes to the rescue when this case happened.

James was frustrated but he couldn’t say anything. Instead he got up and walk out. Lynette got up and trailed behind him but as soon as she saw James reaching for his jacket and walk towards the door, Lynette ran after him. An adrenaline rush throughout her whole body. She rushed to hug him from behind. James was surprised because of the momentum his body felt when she hugged him.

“Even if it was true! I…I don’t want you to leave. I have no one else..” Lynette trembled, because she was desperate to stay connected to the feeling that she has right now with James. It was the one thing that could make her keep going. Something that she could look forward to. James was saddened, as if he didn’t feel the same epiphany before because he knew, he relied too much on House as well and wanted House to change and be someone like Lynette. House is his best friend. But with Lynette it’s so much different.

James turned his body and looked at Lynette with his left hand on her jaw, feeling her warmth, his thumb caressing it. He looked in her eyes with the same puppy dog eyes he always have. “Do you trust me enough when I said I love you?”

#house md #gregory house #james wilson #fanfic

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medstudentblues · 11 months

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D-3 of start of clerkship

since my last post I had been following the same routine (daily laundry, light studying, etc), except this week I went to school to distribute our merch, then had pedia endorsement yesterday at 8pm which lasted for 3 hours!! it was overwhelming and nothing stuck (and I'm someone who's familiar with hospital routine/bedside duties because of my pre-med) so I just let it go because there's nothing we can do about it, we'll best learn the routine in pedia department this coming weekend and forward, in the hospital not through a ppt presentation.

but!! today I celebrated with my family my birthday. we kept losing each other, my brother and his family went anyway even though they had 2-6 hrs of sleep because it's their body clock (a sweet, big thing for me!), my father was mostly quiet, and my tito was pleasantly chatty. I gave my cute niece lots and lots of kisses which she hated lol. we were supposed to play billiards after as is our routine when we were kids, but it was closed and I already had a moderate migraine because of the heat and how crowded the mall was because it's a holiday, so I just said we'll play next time. we went to the parking area, my beau took me home, and I had a GOOD nap. glorious. next thing I knew it's 6pm and it's incredibly hot so I got out of bed.

I just made my daily protein drink, looked up the master files for our pedia rotation and since I don't have to print anything yet, I'll shower and maybe do some studying since I have nothing else to do anyway. will turn in around midnight or 1am, hopefully!

what I'm feeling: I am already feeling tired lol. even though I rejected all the clerk student council positions yesterday during the election, I am still the prime leader (or "president") of my section or "prime" as we call it. but it's fine, I'm used to the job. I've served as a student leader since forever so I know I won't be too tired compared to our student council exhaustion when I was in third year. there will be meetings, but it won't be as excessive and long as when I was an MSC. I hope everything's lighter and fun this year.

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thessalian · 1 year

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Thess vs Thursday

So yeah, no, Thursdays are still a thing I have not got the hang of. Or maybe they just have it in for me, I dunno.

Slid on over to my work laptop to start the workday, finally got everything booted up and logged in etc (it always takes half past for-fucking-ever) ... and noticed that despite us not being very badly off yesterday, the typing queue was in a bit of a state. In fact, it appeared as though the queue hadn’t been touched since I logged off yesterday.

Then I checked my email. Had one from Scruffman, saying, “Yeah, if you were wondering why the typing queue’s insane, it’s because it’s only me, [Milady], and [this one other person who only really does filing] in today because illness, annual leave, and emergency leave. Nearly asked you to come in today but figured there was no point since we leave at the same time anyway. Sorry!”

I mean, dodged a bullet on the having to go into the office thing. Because seriously, no one who does any kind of typing is in today apart from me (for varying levels of ‘in’, obviously), so the last thing you can afford to do is put me in a position where I will be less productive. And I would be less productive at the office, owing to fewer microbreaks, worse chair, and ergonomics made of bullshit and baling wire. But still. No one typing but me and occasionally Milady if she had a minute. And she didn’t have a lot of minutes, obviously, because no one else being in.

So guess who got the entire typing queue all to themselves?

I managed to clear all of yesterday’s typing (everything from a little past 10am to just about 6pm; easily a hundred reports). I pushed too hard doing it, and I had to run a little over time to get the last few, but I got it done. This left me with five reports from this one woman who ... okay, her accent isn’t that bad. ...Okay, it is, but I’ve dealt with worse. It’s more that her voice is exceptionally high-pitched, and always ends on a rising note that effectively devolves into a squeak. Which it would appear is a migraine trigger; lucky me. Also had a couple of gentlemen whose accents I’m more or less used to but insist on talking with their mouths right up to the microphone - rather shitty microphones at that - so that you get the wonderful double act of “this is way to loud” and “you sound like you’re talking through a sock”. One of the newbies has not figured out how to use a foot pedal and her dictation breaks up in some really messy ways, and I dread the day it happens and she loses measurements or specimen descriptions or something I can’t fake. Not because I have any problems sending her an email letting her know that she cut shit out of a dictation (I have to do that at least twice a day anyway, because even the old hands apparently can’t figure out how the fucking foot pedal works), but because ... well, I figured it’d be good to know her email address for the inevitable moment when she does lose something I can’t fake, and it turns out she doesn’t fucking have one. I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised; she borrows everyone else’s logins for dictation so why the hell not just coast through the place like a ghost with no form of contact whatsoever? That’s not even going into the guy who yells and refuses to listen to me when I tell him, for the eighth time, that I need the number of specimens per block even if it is on another system because someone who needs to know this might not have access to that other system and it’s also a way to check for discrepancies!

So it’s been a hard day. I’d say things will probably go back to normal tomorrow but given sick leave and emergency leave, I have my doubts. Those things often take multiple days to resolve. And on top of that, next week is when my new extended hours start. Honestly, that’s probably for the best because I can not push as hard and still get more done than I was getting before. Also I have drafted an email to Scruffman flagging up yet again Temp’s tendency to cherry-pick the typing, which I will send the next time she’s really blatant about it. Generally I understand that she’s the one doing the long ones when I’m not there and leaving the ones I’m there for to me is a way to achieve balance, but since I’ll be working longer hours, the balance is going to change, and if I’m having to spend six or six and a half hours dealing with Ms Squeaky, Mr Choked-By-Sock, the one guy who averages ten minute dictations, every single fucking placenta report with its bits of fiddly, and all the rest of the stuff that I understand that no one wants to do because I hate them as much as anybody else ... well, no. No, that can’t keep happening. I’ve done everything. I’ve given Temp all my little snippets where you can just type in a code and have a full report there with only the measurements / weights and a few details needing to be changed a bit. I’ve offered to discuss it if there’s people she struggles to type for so that we can find a working balance. All I get is “Don’t stress about it” and I am fed up. But obviously not something you send until there’s something to point at and say, “Look. You do not get more blatant than this. I know she just goes back to cherry-picking every single time you take her to task about this, but something needs to be done to make her take these things in chronological order like the rest of us do”.

As you can probably tell, I’m not in a great mood. Doesn’t help that I didn’t have much time for breaks and food was “most of a bag of Doritos stuffed into my mouth between reports”. I’m going to relax, have a cookie, and later on I will make my chicken adobo. The chicken’s been marinading since last night so I’m hoping for good things.

#Thess has a day job

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forgottenyear · 6 months

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Time loss during projects feels closer to waking after a nap than the dullness of losing track of time. I feel physically unrested, but mentally so. Losing track of time does not feel restful in any way.

We got involved in projects over the past several days(?), and I have lost a lot of time. Yesterday, I went from breakfast to late suppertime, when I finally drank my juice poured for breakfast. I would have had trouble falling asleep, except for the migraine medication (and I got two shots in one visit on Wednesday). Saturday kind of snuck up on me this week.

We made a sort of raincoat for a handrail for the stairs of the back porch. The handrail was just a piece of two-by-four butted against the newel post, so the joint collected all water and snow and rotted away. I am cutting a new handrail, but this one will have a jacket to shed the water away from the joint. I am also designing parts for the machines (but there is a seductive gray area, where one makes parts for the machines that make things, that may or may not be considered productive).

A project can be very simple, but I know what I have for an ideal and too often, the design software is not up for the task. So, many hours can be used to make the machines do the things they say they are unable to do. Technological limitations are merely new puzzles to be solved.

There was a time when I would have assumed I just lost track of time. I used to say that I would go into an alpha-state and somehow accomplish tasks. I called it an alpha-state because I was not sleeping, obviously, but it was exceptionally peaceful, considering the tasks I set myself to accomplishing. Solving puzzles is not stressful, unless I cannot get into that “alpha-state.” It is restful.

It is only since I learned about DID that I realized what I have described has been switching. I am marginally co-conscious, but more an observer than an actor. What I once inadequately described as “solutions coming to me from my subconscious,” has always felt like I was only watching as my body went about the motions, and now I understand why.

The experience can be like watching Bob Ross paint a picture. He starts putting these seemingly random blotches on the canvas, then he smears them horribly, and just when you would think it is time to give up, he plunks a few more marks and it is an amazing painting. I watch as I make these seemingly random movements that can appear counterproductive, but the solution materializes from these actions as though I knew what I was doing all along.

And even that final phrase is an echo of what I said at the time. I said I accomplished many things only because I was not smart enough to know it should be impossible. I said I was good at BS-ing until I stumbled upon the solutions.

If I think this through, beyond this one moment, I remember that this experience has roots that go deeper than the “endo” stuff I am thinking and writing about.

It was fun to think about this stuff, before I learned what I was thinking about. Before I understood why.

That was the space I was in today, until I got to the end of this post. I was back in a universe where trauma was something that happens to other poor unfortunates. Trauma happened only to people I once knew or heard about and only vaguely remember anymore.

fuck this blog

#time to watch shows and to try to forget again

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mightyaphrodytee · 1 year

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“April is the cruelest month…”—T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

Miranda tripped in her driveway and fell forward, but unfortunately her car was in the way and she full-on smashed her face into the bumper. That happened around the 10th, and she STILL has a greenish shadow where her gigantic black eye used to be.

Then I fell…hard…in the kitchen. I couldn’t get up. I thought my shoulder was dislocated. I crawled in a sitting position, cradling my left arm, using my butt cheeks, all the way into the bedroom because that’s where my phone was. I tried screaming for Siri, but she utterly failed to respond. I called 911, the ambulance came, and I spent the rest of the day in the ER. Turned out my shoulder was BROKEN, not dislocated. They gave me Dilaudid IV, which was the only thing that helped. Discharged with Vicodin, 800-mg Motrin, and a sling. That was April 15.

Two days later, Jane was tackled at soccer practice and broke her wrist.

Bad things happen in threes.

I’m two weeks out from that awful day, and today is the first day I haven’t had to take anything for pain. Yesterday I got to take my first shower since the accident, and it was sublime. Miranda washed my sheets, and being clean in a clean bed is amazing. I’m so grateful.

In the two weeks since the fall, I’ve thrown up (twice, the first few days, probably due to the Vicodin), suffered from the worst headache I’ve ever had in my life that lasted for five whole days, causing my neurologist to give me some migraine med samples, cried so much I thought I was losing it completely…it’s just been a shit show of epic proportions. I’d wake up at 2am in so much pain that I couldn’t go back to sleep until the meds kicked in. I started sleeping whenever. WHENEVER. Usually in 2-3 hour spans, curtains drawn, noise machine on…and pretty much subsisting on almonds. Long story, but they worked!

Last night I made a pizza and baked it all by myself. This morning, the very first morning I woke without any pain at all, I browned a roast and put it in the slow cooker all by myself.

I just couldn’t have written about this until now. It had to wait for my recovery. I kind of have a different attitude now—I accept that I am old, the MS has really fucked so hard with my BALANCE and COORDINATION that I will, from this month forward, walk very, very slowly. No more trying to be like normal people. I AM DISABLED.

#April 2023 #broken bones and black eyes #matching slings with my granddaughter #what a totally miserable couple of weeks

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g-kat423 · 1 year

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Woke up 2 hours before I need to be up and everything still fucking hurts and I’m nauseous despite not being able to eat for days apart from the one yogurt I made myself have yesterday because I feared I’d pass out driving when I had to stop somewhere. I have this vein in my forehead that bulges and when it does it fucking hurts. It could be temporal arteritis because I’m pretty sure it’s my temporal artery but I because my inflammatory markers are always negative they say it’s not but it can only be confirmed through a biopsy and I have basically all of the symptoms. I could go blind or have a stroke if it’s not treated. They also say it only happens to people who are 50+ but it’s not that it can’t happen in younger people. I wish they’d just do the fucking biopsy it fucking hurts everything fucking hurts I just want my god damn life back. The thing that sucks though is if it is temporal arteritis I’ll have to go on a steroid which I’d really rather not do because of what steroids can do to your body but it’s dangerous to leave this untreated and I’m pretty sure I’ve had this for over a fucking month but no one will listen or help me they just keep saying it’s migraines because migraines totally last over a fucking month and don’t go away with any amount of medication and cause such bad nausea that you can’t eat and lose so much weight but no one cares.

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dreamslogs · 2 years

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October 6 - 10 2022: Log #64

🌩️Weather: Sunny but starting to get colder in the mornings, around in the 50s and then 70s by afternoon

🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️

🎃Thursday, October 6, 2022: I don’t know why but today I fell off on doing my logs. I think it was just crashing from the stress of all of my exams and busy school week I had and suddenly I didn’t have anything to do. I did binge Abbott Elementary. Fantastic show.

👻Friday, October 7, 2022: Today I didn’t do much either - and it was nice but I was starting to get bored and lose motivation in myself. I didn’t work out BUT I did read a good bit of Song of Achilles!

🎃Saturday, October 8, 2022: Ngl, today was fun and then it got bad. I went into the city with my roommate to go shopping and that was fun. I found my favorite coffee creamers and a book for $2. We also visited a very sick kid in the hospital with HLH and that was a good time. However, when I get home my roommate ignored me and didn’t watch the football game with me like she said she would and just slept and watched netflix so that kind of hurt my feelings. My other roommate also made plans with our friends and didn’t tell us so I felt left out (it was originally her friend group in high school so I think she is jealous she’s not the only one still friends with them). I then proceeded to drop and glass tuperware and broke it while doing the dishes and cut myself, so I cried on the phone to my mom about being lonely and my roommate making me feel bad because she didn’t seem like she cared I broke something.

👻Sunday, October 9, 2022: My friend came over for her birthday! It was fun we just watched tv for a couple of hours. Not much happened.

🎃Monday, October 10, 2022: I got a really bad migraine and went to one class and slept in bed all day.

🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️

🖋️Notes on the week🖋️

I was bored, and then it went bad with what happened with my roommates on Saturday plus my migraine yesterday. However, I am hopeful because it seems like we quietly worked through our issues and are on a positive path!

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caelan0d · 2 years

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If anyone wants a fun update on my life: Yesterday I started to get what I am now figuring out is hemiplegic migraines on the train to work and I started really freaking out because they can get really fucking bad and losing feeling in your body is really scary. Went into work told them what was happening in a panicked voice, manager puts me in the office with the lights off, and I proceed to have the worst panic attack of my life, so bad I black out a little bit and of course the hyperventilating made the migraine come on faster. all of that was heard by everyone outside the office because I was screaming and crying and what's worse is that it was all recorded!!! yay!!! I still have lost most of my feeling in my left are and at the back of my neck and I might have to try to go into work bc we need money and neither of us are getting a check for work before our rent will have a late fee and I hate money so much I just want to run away and deal with my issues in the woods or something. if you are reading this, please share my pinned post if you can... Luckily yesterday I had my boyfriend to take me home after I lost most of the feeling in my body because being so vulnerable in the street and on public transportation is so scary I cannot even begin to tell you. going to look into options for a service dog soon.

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 2 years

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199 of 2022

01:What are you wearing?

Green loose trousers and black sleeveless t-shirt, and these black Converse-like shoes.

02:Ever been in love?

Yes, but not in a romantic sense.

03:Ever had a terrible breakup?

Yeah, with my first ex.

04:How tall are you?

180 cm.

05:How much do you weigh?

Too much. People see me as thin anyway, but I don’t.

06:Any tattoos do you want?

Yes, I want two, but I have my appointment booked for one first.

07:Any piercings that you want?

I’ve redone my eyebrow and I don’t really want any other piercings, but maybe I’d do one more in my ears.

08:OTP?

What the fuck is OTP?

09:Favorite Show?

I don’t really have favourites.

10:Favorite bands?

HRFTR, Vildhjarta, some old Periphery, Monuments, Tesseract, Reflections, to name a few. I also like some rappers and my #1 is Baas B.

11:Something you miss?

Basketball.

12:Favorite song?

I have two ultimate favourites: Lange Frans & Baas B - Ik Wacht Al Zo Lang & Vildhjarta - Shiver.

13:How old are you?

I’m 32.

14:Zodiac sign?

Taurus.

15:Hair Color?

Dark brown, it seems.

16:Favorite Quote?

I don’t pay attention to such things much, but I can give a song quote I live by:

“Als klein kind nam ik alles voor lief, Ik had geen vragen om te stellen dus ik stelde ze niet. Ik geloofde in sprookjes en in de mensen, Ik was tevreden, had weinig te wensen. Maar nu die tijd zonder zorgen voorbij is, Vraag ik me af wat de reden voor mij is Dat ik hier ben, tsja wat doet het er toe? Wat maakt het nog uit dat ik doe wat ik doe? En nu de tijd als maar sneller voorbij tikt, Vraag ik me af wat er straks aan het eind is. Wat maakt het nog uit dat ik doe wat ik kan? Geef me een teken, want ik wacht al zo lang.”

Out of 5 possible stars, this song deserves at least 6. No kidding.

17:Favorite singer?

Rapper, Baas B.

18:Favorite color?

Black and green.

19:Loud music or soft?

Definitely not soft, I’m not a big fan of soft music genres.

20:Where do you go when you’re sad?

I take the train to Oostende and then the tram to Westende, this is my little place on Earth and I always go there every time I need to clear my head.

21:How long does it take you to shower?

15 minutes, but with rising prices, it feels too long already.

22:How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

Another 15 minutes. Together with the shower, 30 minutes.

23:Ever been in a physical fight?

Yes, but no. Nothing serious.

24:Turn on?

Guys with pretty eyes and nice voices.

25:Turn off?

When someone stinks.

26:The reason I joined Tumblr?

I don’t know why you joined Tumblr, but I joined because I needed a blog where I could be grumpy without the need of excellent writing skills.

27:Fears?

Failure and losing.

28:Last thing that made you cry?

I don’t even remember.

29:Last time you cried?

About 30 years ago? These questions are so irrelevant to me.

30:Meaning behind your url:

It’s a Dutch expression for something so unbelievable that it even makes you cringe, but could be used in other contexts as well. My main blog URL is a Dutch swear word.

31:Last book you read?

The Legend of Ice People.

32:Last song you listened to?

According to my last.fm, it was Home by Martin Garrix.

33:Last show you watched?

I don’t remember, I don’t watch TV that much.

34:Last person you talked to?

My husband.

35:The relationship between you and the person you last texted?

He’s my dad.

36:Favorite food?

Waterzooi, the Belgian dish.

37:Place you want to visit?

I want to go back to Berlin and Amsterdam, and I want to visit Paris. It’s only a few hours away from me, but I’ve never been there yet.

38:Last place you were?

My bedroom. My husband took almost the whole space in bed, there were mosquitoes biting on me all the time, and I had stomach problems. Brilliant night, now I have a migraine.

39:Do you have a crush?

I do, but it’s platonic. He has beautiful, blue eyes.

40:Last time you kissed someone?

Yesterday.

41:Last time you were insulted and what was it?

Someone in the Netherlands called me flikker, but tell me something new.

42:What color underwear are you wearing?

Red, I think. I don’t care about colour as long as it’s clean.

43:What color shirt are you wearing?

I’ve been doing it for two days, so today I’m wearing a black hoodie.

44:What color bottoms are you wearing?

Green.

45:Wearing any bracelets?

No, I never wear them.

46:Last sport you played?

Some basketball on rehabilitation, going well.

47:Last song you sang?

Don’t remember. Probably “Mee naar Diemen-Zuid“ because lol. It sticks in my head sometimes.

48:Last prank call you remember doing?

I don’t remember what me and my friends did exactly, we were teenagers then, but I remember my father got really angry about it and he beat me, so much he got scared and never did it again. I was okay, though. He’s sorry until today.

49:Last time you hung out with anyone?

Yesterday, my husband and me were assembling the bike.

50:Favorite movie?

Yet another irrelevant question for me. I don’t watch movies.

#survey #q&a survey #about me survey

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