#if the latter probably missed the kidney

[amarriageoftrueminds]

Current mad meta exercise I am indulging for no reason: trying to work out exactly where the Winter Soldier shot Steve in CATWS. 😭

#see reblogs for update on this! #catws #catws meta #medical stuff #dat's me #steve rogers #mcu meta #meta #stucky #steve meta #bucky meta #stucky meta #bucky barnes #is anyone interested?? #cannot decide if nicked liver (which would explain all the blood) or upper intestine (OUCH) #if the former it looked like it would gone right through the left kidney too #if the latter probably missed the kidney

[r2-d2-soon]

I don't usually post personal stuff. I tend to reblog funny or informative posts. I've kept most of my adult life close to my chest on here. Most of you probably know me as "Minnesota guy with a cat who loves TMBG and Turtles."

Well this last month had been a doozy of a humdinger on crap mountain. A month ago my Mom (68 years old) had a gallstone attack. The stone was blocking her bile duct and causing significant pain.

She went to the ER and they got her into surgery the next day. The doctor was wary of surgery, because my mom had cirrhosis of her liver. I'm pretty sure it was bilirubic cirrhosis, which damages the bile ducts of the liver.

After surgery she had a significant rise in amonia in her system. The liver was not doing it's job. They got her on meds to help her body expel the excess amonia and after a few days in the hospital she was getting better.

She still needed antibiotics and occupational therapy, so she was moved to Transitional Care at a nursing home. She was improving there for two weeks but last weekend she got sick and she was taken back to a local hospital.

They found her amonia level was high again and her liver was not working at all. Also her kidneys were not working and her blood pressure was very low. Doctors tried several medications to help raise her blood pressure. The meds worked but there was no way to safely get her kidneys working again. The Doctors suggested dialysis, but after my Mom's condition worsened, the doctors said that dialysis would be risky and potentially painful. It also would not increase her lifespan significantly or her quality of life.

My mom was not verbally responsive and had a DNR/DNI, so my sisters and I decided that she would not want to be risk the dialysis for a few more hours of time vs rest comfortably until she passed.

On her last day my Mom was aware and communicating due to meds that increased her blood pressure. Her brother, her cousin, several friends, my girlfriend, my sisters and their children came to say goodbye. She also met with a Catholic priest, who talked to her in private and performed the rites to make my Mom officially Catholic (my Dad was Catholic and I was born and raised Catholic). At her request.

After everyone that could make it visited my Mom, the nurse removed the medicine that was raising her blood pressure and turned off the alerts on the monitors. They said she might pass in a few hours, but my mom lasted until 845am the next morning. My girlfriend and I slept on a pull out couch. Not super comfy, but we got some sleep.

After my Mom was confirmed dead we met with a Chaplain who said several prayers over my mom. We said goodbye to her again and allowed the hospital staff to take care of her body.

My Mom was a registered organ donor, so I talked to a representative of the organ donation service. They asked me a lot of personal questions about my mom's medical, medicinal, and sexual history. They warned me about the personal nature of the questions, but I did not get upset. They were only trying to make sure she was not a drug addicted or might have Illnesses that would have prevented them from dontating her body parts to those in need. I found out some of her skin may go to help people with cleft palates or help women with breast cancer have reconstructive surgery. I am glad for the latter, since my Mom was a breast cancer survivor.

Last night was difficult. I miss her so much. I thought she had more time. She thought she had more time. She had so many plans and dreams. She wanted to write books and go to France and visit friends in the South every winter. She wanted to see her grandchildren graduate high school, and get married and have children of their own (if they wanted to do so). Some of these things I can fulfill in memory of her, but many of her stories, and her parents' stories are now lost. I am just thankful for the forty plus years we had together. I love you Mom.

#Long post #Death #Disease #Illness #Cancer

[purplechaosguardian]

House Sitting

Chapter 1-Beggars can’t be choosers

Time to follow the weird ass voice to a weird ass house, children!

The phone rang once. Twice.

“Who’s going to get that?”

“Can’t Cesar get it?” “You know we can’t have his voice recorded.”

The phone rang a fourth time.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I’ll get it.”

Adam grabbed the receiver and spoke in what Cesar lovingly referred to as his customer service tone. “You've reached the Bythorne Paranormal Society, how may I help you?” He pressed a button so all three could hear. The voice on the other hand was a woman. “Hello? Um...may I schedule an appointment?” Adam began feeling around for something to write with, and nodded when Jonah pushed a pad of paper and a pen his way. “Of course, ma'am. Where's the location?” He nodded, scribbling the address down. That address…that was back in Mandela, wasn’t it? Cesar’s stomach would have lurched, if he still had one.

“Okay, thank you. Would you mind giving me a brief description of what you've been experiencing?” “I’ve been…hearing things.” Cesar rolled his eyes. Thanks miss, you’ve given them so much to work with. Thankfully Adam had more self control, if only just a little bit more. “Like… what ma’am?” “I still hear the meows of my old cat Johnny, but the little guy passed away a few years ago.”

Jonah leaned over the table, not looking particularly thrilled about the potential job. “Ugh, really? A freaking cat Alternate?” Cesar had to stifle his giggles at the thought of being able to thwart an Alternate with one of those cat lasers or a jingly toy. Maybe even a can of tuna fish would be enough. Adam shushed both of them before returning his attention to the call. “I don't think it's an Alternate, I just think his soul roams the house still. I want to make sure he finds peace in whatever realm he resides in. Do you think you could help...guide him?” Adam clicked the pen. “We can...certainly try ma'am. When would you like us to visit?” “As soon as possible, please. When's your next opening?”

Adam glanced at Cesar, and the latter shook his head. They had no other clients for the next week. “Well, we can do tonight if you want.” “Can you do 3 nights? I'm away from home...on a business trip. I'm sure this will give you enough time to deal with him.” Cesar stepped away from the phone like it was something disgusting. “These seems as shady as fuck.” Adam seemed to share the sentiment because he hesitated. “Um…well…” “How about $500 a night?” “OH HELL YEAH!” Jonah cheered, while Adam tried to retain an air of professionalism. “Alright. Sounds like a plan. Uh, we will help your cat, ma'am.” The lady on the other end almost seemed to let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much! I appreciate it more than you can think!” “No problem, ma'am. It's just what we do.” And so, the call came to an end.

Cesar glared at the phone as if it had just growled at him. “I think this is a stupid idea. Like ‘deal with it?’ If either of you walks in that house, you’re gonna wake up in an ice bath with both of your kidneys missing.” “Oh no, it’s weird as hell.” Adam ripped the address out of the pad and headed to the car. “But we need the cash, and we've dealt with worse, so at least try to deal with it.” “I wouldn’t worry too much Ces. We’ll go help the cat, and if things get too weird, we’ll bounce.” Cesar leaned closer to Jonah, trying to take comfort in the fact he was still warm. “I guess…”

Only three days. It’s not like anything can go that badly, right? Right??

“Are you two coming or what? We gotta go now if we’re going to make it on time!” Cesar leaned further into Jonah’s side. “Gee, who knew Adam could be somewhat friendly sometimes?” Jonah’s laughter could probably be heard all over the motel while Adam just scowled. “I’m going to pour salt on you.”

“Ok, a little more to the left. Keep going. You’re good, you’re good. Adam, you got it?” Cesar would have helped, but his relationship with touching physical objects was in Adam’s words “really fucking unstable”. So unfortunately, carrying the gear was pretty much off limits. Jonah leaned against the car’s trunk. “You sure you got it?” Cesar couldn’t see Adam’s face, but he’s been with these guys long enough to know Adam’s rolling his eyes. “Yeah, just open the trunk.” Jonah leaned over with a grin almost akin to the Cheshire Cat. God he misses movies. “Now are you really sure you got it? Cuz-.” “Just open the damn trunk, Jonah!” “Hm. Guess you do got it.” Adam sighed. “Such a dickwad.”

Cesar leaned over the gear. “You think this is gonna be enough to hold us over?” Jonah shrugged. “Maybe? Not like we can do anything about it now.” One of the several things Cesar’s learned from the past 3 months is that being on the run from the fucking FBI was that you couldn’t just wander into your local Ralph’s or Walmart whenever you needed. Well, you probably could, but then you’d be caught by the cops.

He had just settled into his usual spot on the back seat when the car stalled. Fuck. “Shit...you got anything left?” Jonah wriggled in a way that just made Cesar feel bad for. “Uh…no?” “You used everything already?!” Adam tried to start the care again, only to let out a frustrated dammit and let his head meet the wheel. “Well, we don't gotta worry about income anymore since we got this massive frickin payday, right?” Cesar looked into the rearview mirror, Jonah’s eyes and a foggy patch of glass staring back at him. “Let’s think about that after the job’s done, Joner. I’m still not convinced this lady just has 1500 bucks lying around for a ghost hunting crew.” Even if it was in Mandela.

Adam emerged from the wheel. “Uh...well...we got a couple of options.” “Which are…?” Cesar sighed. “The usual. See if there’s someone willing to help us out with the cables, or we just take another.” It was almost off putting how used to stealing he was at this point. What would Momma say if she could see him now? “Eh, it's broad daylight now. But it's not like anyone's gonna call the cops or anything-.” Despite everything, Cesar laughed a bit. “Some things never change.” “-and we'd be doing yet another delinquent act. But it's not like we were already on the run anyway.”

——

Cesar was usually as comfortable as one could possibly be in the back. Not having to share it with anyone plus having no need for a seatbelt meant he could lie down and watch things pass by the window. But passing by the “Welcome to Mandela!” sign filled him with dread almost like icy water, slowly seeping into every part of him and leaving with a chill so bad it felt like it would never leave. He could almost see his blood coating his hands. He could still feel the blade against his throat. He reached subconsciously for a hand that wasn’t there. It’s just 3 days. Only 3 days.

He rubbed his eyes, moving his attention over to the conversation in the front. “And who's to say that she's not even crazy? Who's to say she's not as high as I'm going to be in 30 minutes?” “uh...I would hope us. Because the last thing I need is getting a weird house call from a stoned lady about a dead cat and then there'd be nothing there.” “right? Half of me thinks there aren't even any Alternates, and the mayor was just too stupid to just make that entire, uh, infographic.” Cesar sat up. “Well, I sure hope it was an Alternate because I don’t know what else would make me think ripping my own throat open was a good idea.” Jonah sheepishly chuckled, turning to meet his gaze. “Sorry, Cesar.” “Adam never took his eyes off the road. “Besides, why are we getting so many calls about Alternates in the first place?” “Maybe it's mass hysteria...right? Do you guys think this is the rise of the war on Alternates?” Cesar squinted. “Like a war on drugs type deal?” “I don't know...we're just two guys driving.”

Cesar tuned them out, spotting a cross covered in snow. They were close. The GPS confirmed this, its text to speech function confirming they would be there in 10 minutes. Jonah spoke up. “Holy shit, that's actually really useful. I mean, they didn't have to outlaw these things, did they? Like I doubt that guy's face could appear on something like this, and, y'know, kill you.” “No, they did not.” Cesar leaned between the two of them. “You think this was overkill? Trying being around when The Television and Mirror Destruction Order was put into place. TVs, mirrors, could it show you your reflection? If it did, it had to be smashed into a bunch of itty bitty pieces, or something like that anyway. I was heartbroken when I had to trash my tv. I spent years saving up for that.” Jonah let out a low whistle. “I guess crime really does pay.” Adam shrugged. “I like how you're making us out to be gangsters when all we did was...y'know...get all this.” Cesar leaned back, trying to quell his nerves. It’s just 3 days. Only 3 days. “It’s not like we had any options to get this shit the same way any other law abiding citizen would.” “I know, I know...it's just...we lived our whole lives under the radar, right? Like the quiet kids.”

The car pulled up in the driveway and Cesar felt like he was about to be swallowed whole by sheer dread. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was wrong, it just felt like they shouldn’t be here. But it’s not like they had a choice, they couldn’t not do this job. Cesar took a breath and left the car.

It’s just 3 days. Only 3 days.

#the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue #tmc #cesar torres #tmc cesar #adam murray #tmc adam #jonah marshall #tmc jonah #ghost!cesar au #my writing

[allmightluver]

What kinds of medicines do you think Toshinori has to take? We do know his side must get painful sometimes because he has grabbed at it seemingly in pain like he did when Endeavor and Hawks was fighting that nomu.

This is a good question. A lot of this will be speculation based on where the wound is in accordance to the body’s anatomy.

So I did a study a while back to try and determine which organs would have been effected from the size of injury it is:

Personally, I believe that wound cost him his left lung and diaphragm, stomach, spleen, left kidney, left adrenal gland, half of his liver, and several feet of intestine(s) as well as losing a few ribs. It’s possible his pancreas, gallbladder, and heart were affected as well. I drew this conclusion based on where the wound is located anatomically. I took a basic shot of a human anatomy below next to Toshi for reference.

So in outlining approximately where Toshi’s wound (in red) sits in accordance with basic anatomy, I outlined in blue what would most likely have been removed from the extent of the injury, and in pink what else possibly could have been damaged. We have to remember that this wound we see is the healed version, what’s been stitched together, so most likely it was much larger when it initially happened. Therefore it could have effected far more organs, and the heart especially is very close to that line.

So with this in mind, a list of possible medications Toshinori could be on are:

After gastrectomy:

Iron supplement

Folate

B12 (this is most likely shots, but it could be pills)

Calcium

Vitamin D

Vitamin C

And other supplements

If a nephrectomy is preformed resulting in an adrenalectomy:

Sometimes steroids are needed depending on how the remaining adrenal gland functions.

After splenectomy:

Antibiotics are often prescribed to be taken daily for the first two years. Some people may need them again every so often. Some may be advised to take them daily for life. (I assume Toshinori is most likely the latter given his life style and other injuries).

If a partial or full pancreatectomy is done:

His body will be diabetic the rest of his life, so therefore insulin

Enzymes to aid in digestion

Probably glucose tablets to keep on hand

Depending on if his heart was affected, there could be several complications related, and medications associated. He’s most likely very closely monitored for multiple reasons already, but this especially. There’s the chance he would have needed a heart transplant. But personally, I like to believe his heart is the original, but from the trauma he may have some arrhythmias as a result. Considering I like to think he has a larger than average heart already, he may already have these kinds of issues and it worsened after the injury. I entertained the probability that he could even have a pacemaker. 

And then of course, pain medication. I personally think he’s heavily dosed on pain medication regularly, something that he needs to be careful taking. Overdose could happen easily-and could be incredibly devastating in result. (Hence my want to make my WIP Painkiller of this exact situation happening.) He’s most likely on a schedule of when he can take them, and I’m sure they most likely don’t last to the time it’s safe to take another since most don’t seem to. Which means he could spend an hour or more with crippling pain growing more and more intense. And if he misses one, not only would the pain set it, withdrawal would not be far behind.

Toshinori would also need to visit the hospital every month if he choses to do B12 shots, which would probably be easiest since he’d need to have his blood checked for nutrition, proper vitamins, and insulin levels. Urine would also need to be checked to insure his remaining kidney is functioning properly.

So in conclusion, most likely, he needs a counter full of medication daily. And some multiple times a day.

My poor pincushioned druggie <3

#lover talks #ask me #anon #toshinori's health #meta #toshinori yagi #all might #injury #old injury #medical talk #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #medications #drugs #physical health

[girlnextmorgue]

Who I Think Creepypastas Kill

NOTICE: This post is a reupload from my old Creepypasta fanfiction blog (now my main blog). If you’ve seen it before, that’s probably because it was posted there first! I pinky promise that I’m not stealing anything, simply moving my old work here for organization purposes.

ORIGINALLY POSTED 5/3/21

-

so im a bit of a true crime junkie and by that i mean i used to binge watch criminal minds and am an avid viewer of miss bailey sarian's murder mystery & makeup monday series. this means that like... i have the basic knowledge about serial killer signatures and motivations that most true crime nerds have

but anyway i was out running errands and i was like hmmm... what if the creepypastas didnt kill random people... what if they actually had signatures.. And Boom New Headcanon Post

as always, requests/asks are very open and i encourage you all to send one in if you like my writing & headcanons :) enjoy!

––––––––

Jeff generally only kills randomly and sporadically when he's having breakdowns. This doesn't happen often, and he only gets this upset when he lets himself spiral without acknowledging it for weeks or months at a time. When he targets people, he looks into abusive or neglectful parents (usually the latter because he can relate better). Though this usually ends up with kids being put into the shitty American foster system, Jeff sees it as the lesser of two evils.

BEN will screw with anyone; he's a ghost computer virus, come on. To be honest, he's less of a killer and more of someone that fucks around and ruins people's lives for fun. He's probably at least a little based because of all of the content he consumes by just existing through the internet, so I can see him deleting important things from political databases and messing up technology that billionaires spend millions on perfecting.

Since Toby, Tim, and Brian are all proxies, they kill whoever Slenderman directs them to. These people are usually perceived as threats to Slender himself, the mansion, or the world as Slender prefers it. He also has the proxies patrol the areas around the mansion's main locations in order to keep people away from it. Sometimes they're also sent to assist other Creepypastas on their endeavors should Slender deem it necessary.

Jane targets shitty people that the system doesn't punish. This usually means murderers, abusers, rapists, and the occasional radical bigot. She tries to make life better for people that are targeted and taken advantage of.

Clockwork goes after abusive people and/or families. Unlike Jeff, she does her best to make sure the affected people move on to better lives, whether that means kids getting adopted or widow(er)s moving past their abusive relationship. If they don't get that, she does her best to give it to them, even if they don't know she's helping them.

Nina began as a Jeff copycat, targeting the same people that he did. Eventually, she developed her own style. She now goes after people who remind her of the kids who harassed her and her brother, usually school bullies, but sometimes general bullies outside of school environments.

Eyeless Jack doesn't kill people very often. He started out that way, but only because he was starving and needed to eat. Eventually, he grew into a less brutal way of getting food. He now performs quick surgeries on sleeping people and takes one of their two kidneys. It's illegal and horrible, but it makes him feel better that he isn't killing anyone.

LJ kills kids. There's no way around it. It's just what he does.

Helen, like Nina, targets people that remind him of those that tormented him in school. Sometimes he also robs craft stores, but that's less because he can't afford it and more because he thinks breaking and entering into closed stores is a fun little pastime.

Liu takes a similar route to Nina and Helen, going after people that remind him of the asshole kids that bullied him and Jeff in school. He also follows up on the kids that Jeff leaves orphaned, doing his best to make sure they end up living safe and happy lives. Way to pick up on Jeff's slack, Liu.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons

[maraudersftw]

Can you do #50 from the prompt asks? For the BlackEvans brotp/bromance?

Also, D&D is AMAZING! I LOVE IT!

Heyyy, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this. And I’m doubly sorry because I realized you wanted BlackEvans only after I’d already almost written the whole thing? So, this is primarily Jily, but Sirius does get screen-time so I hope that makes it better!

AND THANK YOU! ❤❤

50. “You are my new pillow.”

Pillow

James is midway through devouring his steak and kidney pie, spoon raised halfway to his mouth, when she collapses onto the empty space next to him rather dramatically. He’s caught off guard, both by her presence and by the hand she’s dropped onto his shoulder as leverage to pull herself over the bench.

The food on his spoon teeters dangerously, and then dives back onto his plate. Thwop.

“Unghh,” she groans.

“Hey look,” Sirius perks up from the other side, fork pointed at the mass of red hair on the table. “Evans can speak Troll.”

“Fuck,” a flash of green eyes, “off.”

“Never mind,” he smirks. “False alarm.”

Momentarily done with his quota of annoying her, Sirius goes back his own lunch, though not before arching a pointed brow in James’s direction. It’s blatantly clear what that amused look means: the bird you fancy is crazy, mate.

James knows this already, and so he shrugs. Sirius rolls his eyes at his plate.

Six years in, he should know better than to try and embarrass James for his crush on the girl. The whole castle knows he’s rather pathetic about it by now, and he’s stopped pretending otherwise a long time back.

Presently, he knocks his shoulder against hers; gently, because sometimes, Lily breathes fire and he can’t afford to get scorched today. There’s Quidditch practice later. “Alright, Evans?”

She pulls her head up from the cocoon of folded arms, turning slightly to look at him. Tendrils of hair curtain around her face, escapees from the simple braid she’d twisted them into that morning. The frustrated eyes she’d pinned on Sirius earlier have transformed into something softer now, almost petulant. She pouts, lips downturned and positively maddening.

He can’t believe she’s real.

“I need sleep,” she groans.

The dark circles under her eyes suddenly become prominent to him, like her words have lifted some concealing charm from them. “Was Ancient Runes too rough?”

“It was a bloody disaster!” her eyes travel skyward, and his lips twitch slightly at her antics. But she looks back down soon after, so he’s quick to school his features. “I stay up until four in the fucking morning finishing that ruddy assignment even though my eyes are bleeding out and then Professor Babbling doesn’t even collect it because almost the entire class complains that they couldn’t solve the questions! So, we go over the same thing again today, but even slower, and I feel properly pissed and exhausted.” She stops to take a breath, but seems to think better of it and growls angrily instead.

Sirius snorts. “You’re such a swot.”

Sensing the peril to his best mate's life, James squeezes her shoulder, drawing back the attention. “Why don’t you go up and take a nap?”

“And miss Transfiguration?!” she cries, looking miserable. He’s such a tosser for finding even that adorable. “No, thank you. Not all of us can pass that class in our sleep like you can, Potter.”

He lets her words stroke his ego for a beat before pressing on. “What are you going to do, then? If you show up to class half-dead, you won’t understand anything anyway.”

Instead of replying, she lets out a sigh deep enough that it probably empties all the air inside her lungs. And suddenly, without any prompting, without any warning, she wraps her hands around his right arm and drops her head onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

His heart leaps to his mouth.

“This bench is my bed now,” she mumbles, almost nuzzling his arm. “You are my new pillow.”

He isn’t entirely certain this isn’t a dream anymore. Almost instinctively, this fear prompts him to look up at Sirius, who has frozen mid-chew quite comically. Grey eyes flit from Lily to James, and then back to Lily, before he swallows. The pure mix of surprise and amusement that takes over his face then informs James that he’s definitely not imagining this.

Even as Sirius grins, bright and shameless, he doesn’t say anything, and for that, James is genuinely grateful.

He can’t risk this. He can’t have her pulling back. Not now.

For the past four months, James has been carefully toeing the line between acquaintance and friendship with Lily. While he’d assumed they had managed to tip onto the latter side recently, Lily’s move to touch him like this, openly, like they’ve been mates for years, like they’re just the kind of people who do this now, well…it’s more than he could’ve hoped for.

James feels, right then, as if Gryffindor’s very lion is ready to burst out of his chest.

“I doubt I’m nearly as soft as a pillow,” he croaks, completely lame, entirely too late.

Sirius covers his mouth, shoulders shaking.

“Shut up, Potter, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Shut up.” He hears the smile in her voice.

James does as she says this time, a grin pulling on his own lips as he turns back to his food.

The belated realization that he no longer has access to the hand he requires to eat feels laughably inconsequential. The entire Great Hall could suddenly find itself swarmed by Cornish Pixies and he wouldn’t budge from his place. Hell, his arm could fall numb, and lose feeling, and rot from lack of movement, and he still wouldn’t care as long as Lily’s head needed it.

Steak and kidney pie? Grossly overrated.

#asks #jily #jily drabble #claudia writes #claudiawrites #pillow #hodgepodge #claudia answers #thatonegryffinclaw #james potter #lily evans #jily flash fic #james x lily #jily fic #jily canonverse #jily canon

[cultofbeatles]

parts of pattie boyd’s book wonderful tonight that involved george that stuck out to me:

pattie didn't have any of the beatles records at first and only bought please please me since she was going to be in their film 

“on first impressions, john seemed more cynical and brash than the others, ringo the most endearing, paul was cute, and george, with velvet brown eyes and dark chestnut hair, was the best looking man i’d ever seen.”

during a lunch break pattie and george sat next to each other and were both very shy 

george asked pattie “will you marry me?” and after she laughed he said, “well, if you won't marry me, will you have dinner with me tonight?” and she turned him down.

she deadass invited george to hang out with her and her boyfriend at the time.

pattie and george are both pisces.

once reshoots for the film were happening george asked pattie about her boyfriend, she said she had dumped him, and george once again asked her for dinner. she accepted this time.

brian epstein joined them for their first date.

they sat side by side and were too scared to even hold the others hand.

george got along great with pattie’s family.

pattie liked cynthia lennon but found her difficult to make friends with. 

“she wasn't like my friends, who enjoyed a giggle and some fun: she was rather serious, and often, i thought, behaved more like john’s mother than wife.”

there was a rumor that john and pattie were having an affair and pattie worried cynthia believed it. it wasn't true.

maureen cox (ringo’s girlfriend) was another beatles girl that pattie had a hard time being friends with. but said that she was “jolly and friendly, more relaxed than cynthia.”

pattie got along best with jane asher but saw her the least.

“i felt there was definitely a north-south divide among the wives and girlfriends. and i had the definite impressions that the girls from the north (maureen and cynthia) felt they has a prior clam to the boys.” okay shade, we see you. 

(talking about going on holiday with john, cynthia, and george) “it was a good way to split the group. john and paul were the closest in some ways and immensely creative together, but they clashed if they were in each other’s pockets for too long.”

george asked pattie to cut his hair while on holiday and one of the cleaners found his hair and kept it. 

(talking about george) “he was so beautiful and so funny.”

once a “weird looking man” tried to force his way into pattie and george’s house. pattie thought he was either a salesman or a jehovahs witness. it turns out it was paul in disguise. 

george said the only place he got peace was in the bathroom of his hotel suite.

pattie got a lot of letters saying that if she didn't leave george there would be a curse put on her.

 pattie’s cleaner was a male ballet dancer and “a terrific duster.”

pattie would count the days till george came back. once he jumped into the bed early in the morning to wake her up. 

those two would deadass not lock their doors and were surprised that clothes were going missing...what is with older generations and not locking their doors i -

george would be in the studio from 11 am - 11 pm. sometimes midnight. 

george’s mom loved when john would visit and would always ask him for an “upper.”

when john lennon is your drug dealer.

pattie wasn't a good cook but was optimistic.

“i loved listening to him (play guitar), loved the sound of the guitar in the house. sometimes i would start to talk and he'd be so deep in thought about the lyrics or the melody he was writing that he wouldn't answer. we’d be the same room but he wasn't really with me: he was in his head.”

pattie developed a kidney disorder.

(talking about the beatles dynamic) “in many aspects they were still children. they had few real friends apart from each other, and when they were asked questions they could answer as one - they were so much on each other’s wavelength. if one went to a gallery opening, they all went; if one bought a new car or new house, they all did. if one seemed in danger of taking himself too seriously, the others knocked it out of him.”

one evening george stopped the car and said, “let’s get married. i'll speak to brian.” they went to brian’s house, george went inside, and when he came back in the car he said, “brian says it’s okay. will you marry me? we can get married in january.”

briannnnnnn, is it my turn to get married yet pleaseeeee

pattie invited her absent father to their wedding but he did not come.

at the train station everyone left cynthia behind as she was carrying the suitcases and john was carrying nothing. peter brown had to go back and get her. 

pattie’s quote from the lsd in the coffee moment is hilarious to me. “you've just had lsd. it was in the coffee.” john lennon: “how dare you fucking do this to us?”

pattie and george didn't go to brian’s funeral in liverpool but george sent one single sunflower.

pattie stopped modeling because george didnt like it. and she felt like she lost a part of herself.

maureen was afraid of flies.

during the India trip, mia farrow told john that maharishi was inappropriate with her and john wanted everyone leave after that.

after India george and pattie’s relationship changed.

(talking about george) “some days he would be all right, but on others he seemed withdrawn and depressed. this was new: he had never been depressed before, but there was nothing i could do. it wasn't about me, but i found that my moods started to mirror his...so bad indeed, that at times i felt almost suicidal. i don't think i was ever in any real danger of killing myself, but i got as far as working out how i would do it: i would put on a diaphanous ossie clark dress and jump off beachy head.”

george became more obvious about his cheating. it hurt pattie.

george was gaslighting her.

cilla black was staying at george and pattie’s house and was uncomfortably close to george so pattie left. six days latter george called to tell her the girl was gone and she could come home.

“..but my ego was too fragile and i couldn't see it as anything other than betrayal. i felt unloved and miserable.”

“jane asher came home unexpectedly from new york and found another woman in the house, an american girl - and did what i should probably have done with george...”

george would start to talk about his feelings about paul or john but would stop bc he never wanted to admit that he felt left out. 

“we had once been so close, so honest and open with each other. now a distance had developed between us..”

(about yoko contributing to the beatles break up) “the four had never allowed anyone into the recording studios with them, but yoko not only sat by john throughout every session, he consulted her about the music they were making, which upset paul.”

during the let it be sessions there was a time with george and paul got in a fist fight and george left.

the same day john told George he was leaving the beatles, george’s mom told him she was ill and in critical condition.

i love that she vibe checked george. “he was bringing home bad vibes.”

george continued cheating and they continued arguing.

“my diary is full of entries about my unhappiness and the disintegration of our relationship.”

john came to visit george and pattie’s new mansion and said that it was so dark he didn't know how they could live in it, and george recommended that he took of his sunglasses.

eric clapton being a piece of shit and saying “if you won't be with me pattie i will become addicted to heroin.”

pattie said the only thing she had left was cooking and george took that away.

the couple was suppose to go on holiday together but george cancelled last minute bc he didn't want to go with her. he ended up going to spain.

“when i challenged him, he denied it and tried once again to make me feel as though i was paranoid.”

i'm not even...the whole fucking story of the george and maureen affair PISSES ME OFF more than i can describe. maybe i’ll make a whole other post but omfg i'm fuming. fuck them bothhhh. they deserve no rights.

george harrison, mere days before their wedding anniversary: “let’s get a divorce this year.” what an amazing new years resolution jerk.

ringo offered pattie a job.

when george told ringo about the affair pattie was so mad she dyed her hair red. 

george loved pattie’s little brother and was his role model but he wouldn't come to the man’s wedding even though he was invited.

the night pattie told george she was leaving him george came to bed in sadness and said, “don't go.”

“i'm going.”

george invited pattie to dhani’s eighteenth birthday party bc she “had to be there. she was family.”

george had become more of an older brother to her now.

pattie had learned about john’s death from eric clapton and immediately went to the beatles office in london to hang out with everyone there.

(after finding out about george’s death) “i couldn't bare the thought of a world without george. when i left him for eric, he had said that if things didn't work out, ever, i could always come to him and he would look after me. it was such a selfless, loving, generous thing to say and it had always been tucked away at the back of my mind. now that sense of security had gone.”

the last time they saw each other was when george called saying he wanted to visit her new cottage and see her.

pattie didn't go to his funeral nor did she go to the memorial concert that took place a year later. but she spent that day high on the mountains thinking of george. “i was happy to mourn him alone and in my own way.”

she would have dreams of george after his death. “oh george, it’s so wonderful that you are alive after all, this is so fabulous; i knew they had all made a mistake.”

and then she’d wake up.

#long post #I'm sorry its so long #its a good book pls read it #I only talked about the George parts of the book but the whole book is good #the beatles #the #beatles #the beatles wives #pattie Boyd #pattie #boyd #george harrison #George #harrison #the beatles moments #the beatles long post #wonderful tonight #george harrison and pattie boyd #paul mccartney #paul #mccartney #ringo starr #ringo #starr #John lennon #John #lennon

[thebluenoteblog]

Security

Summary: When some guy starts getting a little handsy with you while the guys are warming up, Colton takes it upon himself to handle the situation.

Player: Colton Parayko

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested: can you do a joel edmundson or colton parayko and go to a game with the other wags and some guys come up to you during the game and start to talk to you and wont leave you alone and starts to touch you and then colton or joel slams into the boards and yells at the man till he leaves you alone and after the game he seems really upset and you comfort him and tell him how much you love him

“I swear, if it gets any busier, I’m going to throw my hat in and call it,” you said before taking a drink from your water bottle.

Cris nodded, “I feel you. Sort of. I mean I don’t get the whole nurse thing, but I get the running around like a chicken with your head cut off thing.”

“You don’t have to be a nurse to understand being swamped at work,” you said, screwing the cap back onto your water bottle. You only turned away from Cris as the boys started to filter out onto the ice for warm ups.

“At least you got the night off,” Molly said, leaning around Cris to look at you. “Even I didn’t want to miss this one and I’ve been to so many hockey games that they star in my dreams.”

You laughed, “Yeah, you’ve got to love when the Blues play the Preds. It’s always a good match up, especially this late in the season.”

Jayne smiled, “Such a good match up that we all got babysitters, so we could go out tonight. You’re coming right?”

“Of course,” you said, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

You were distracted from Cris’s reply by someone coming up beside you. He took a seat next to you and turned in your direction. He smiled, “Are you sitting here for the game or just down for warm ups?”

You smiled politely back at him, “For the game,” then turned back to Cris.

You were about to restart your conversation with her when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Jayne looked around the two of you at the man. Maybe she was curious who was disrupting your evening, maybe she was hoping that he would recognize her and put two and two together, then back off. If her goal was the latter, it failed.

He continued to tap until you turned to face him again. You gave him another polite smile, “Yes?”

“I was wondering if I could get your name?” He asked, “After all, we will be sitting by each other all night.”

You frowned, but being the good conflict avoiding midwestern girl that you were, you answered him, “(Y/N),” you said, and immediately regretted it when his eyes lit up.

He held out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Tom.”

You begrudgingly took the hand and after releasing it, halfway turned in your seat before he spoke again. “So how did you afford these tickets?” He asked.

Did you avoid conflict? Yes. Was this an exception? Also, yes. You narrowed your eyes at him. This was your way out. You should have told him the truth. You were Colton Parayko’s girlfriend of two years. You were at every home game that you weren’t working or sleeping through after a twelve-hour shift, like the supportive girlfriend that you were. He bought your season pass.

However, the implication that for some reason you shouldn’t be able to afford these seats? Oh, no. Oh. No. “Why shouldn’t I be able to afford them?”

He paused for a moment, face flushing before responding, “I was just saying that I practically had to sell a kidney for this ticket. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

You nodded slowly, pretending to believe him. “Okay,” you had made your point. He knew he’d made a mistake. You tried to turn back to the group and he grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to face him. You took a deep breath and bit the inside of your cheek. You could practically feel the women behind you shifting uncomfortably in their seats, unsure of whether or not to make a scene yet.

“So, what do you do for a living?” He asked.

You sighed heavily, “I’m a nurse practitioner.”

He nodded, “That’s really cool. I work construction.”

You nodded but didn’t say anything. You also didn’t try to turn away from him because his hand was still on your shoulder. He slid it lower, now resting dangerously close to your breast. You attempted to flinch away, and you heard Molly finally say something behind you, but it was completely drowned out by what sounded like a car crashing into the boards.

Tom jerked his hand away in surprise and stared wide eyed at the player who had just rammed himself into the glass right in front of you. You stared in surprise as Colton slammed the side of his fist against the glass. “Leave her alone!” He yelled.

You, and all of the women sitting beside you sat in shocked silence as he stared Tom down. The look Tom was getting, was honestly turning you on a little bit. However, if you had been the one on the receiving end of it, you probably would have gotten up out of your seat and left until warm ups were over.

That was exactly what Tom did after about thirty seconds of this stare down. Colton watched him retreat with harsh eyes. When he had disappeared, Colton turned to you, his eyes softer, but you could still see his jaw working. He was still clearly angry.

He smiled at you then nodded his head and skated away.

Ten minutes later a security guard was standing at the end of your row. He didn’t leave once throughout the entire game.

<><><><><><>

Colton wasn’t typically clingy. He wasn’t usually clung to your side, following you to the bar when you went to get a drink. He had never walked you to the bathroom before. He wasn’t typically possessive. He didn’t make a show out of kissing you in an explicit way anytime he caught another guy looking in your direction, even his single friends. He usually didn’t keep and arm around you at all times, even when you were clearly getting annoyed because you were trying to move through a tight space. This is how you knew something was wrong.

It was after you had spent an extra five minutes pushing your way through the crowd in an effort to get to the bar because he was clung to your side, only to have him pull you into a lip bruising kiss when you got there that you finally broke. When he pulled away, arms still around your waist, you looked up at him and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

His eyebrows came together, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You crossed your arms which was one interesting task because you were still pressed against his chest. “You don’t know what I’m talking about? Really?”

He shook his head, “Really.”

“Okay, let me fill you in. You’re acting like I’m a helium balloon, for starters,” you said.

He snorted, “What?”

“Like I’m going to float away if you take your hands off of me,” you waved a hand through the air exaggeratedly.

He frowned, “I am not.”

“Then let me go,” you said, attempting to take a step back.

He dropped his hands from around your waist but took your hand in his before ever losing contact with you. You didn’t say anything about it, just turned and walked toward the exit. You knew he would follow. “Where are we going?”

“Outside to talk,” you said. “There’s to many people in here, I can hardly hear you.”

You pushed your way through the door and the cool February air hit you like a truck. You sucked in a breath and he noticed right away, “(Y/N), let’s go back inside. It’s cold out here.”

“I’m fine. It isn’t that bad,” you said, turning to face him. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Colton said quietly as he stepped around you to block the wind.

You brushed your fingers over his jaw, “Colt, please. Just tell me. If you’re planning to act like this forever, then I guess I don’t mind too much but it’s going to get really inconvenient.”

He sighed and reached up to play with a strand of hair that the wind had blown into your face before he had moved to protect you from it just like he had been trying to protect you all night. “I didn’t like it.”

“What didn’t you like?” You asked, continuing to stroke your thumb over his jaw.

His head tilted to the side and his eyes scanned over your face. Studying? Assessing? “He was harassing you. I was watching it happen the whole time and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

“You did stop it though,” you said.

He nodded slowly, “Yeah, but he didn’t have to listen to me. I couldn’t have done anything to him from the other side of the boards. If I could have, I would probably be looking at an interesting suspension right now.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth and looked away from him before saying, “I really don’t believe you. You have more self-control than that.”

He placed both hands on your waist and tugged you against him, “We both know that I have no self-control when it comes to you, (Y/N).”

You laughed softly, “You have enough not to hit someone over me.”

He didn’t look so convinced but he nodded, “Whatever you say.”

You stood up on your toes and pulled him down to you. He pressed his lips to yours and this kiss was unlike any of the others that you had shared that night. It wasn’t possessive or designed to put on a show. It was slow and sweet and just for the two of you. When he pulled away, he had a smile on his face. “I love you,” he said, brushing his hand over your neck, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you said, “More than you know.”

#colton parayko #colton parayko imagine #colton parayko imagines #hockey imagines #nhl imagine

[carolinedionecd]

"What !? No - No"

Sterling palmed her face in shock.

"Mom? What's she talking about?"

Blair is directly looking at Debbie, with brows arched as a sign of confusion. She knew she'll never get an answer from Debbie so she looked at her dad.

"Dad?"

She opened her arms as a signal to Anders that she's waiting for an answer. Anderson bit his lip, took a big sigh and looked at Debbie, who's still crying while pointing her shotgun directly at Dana.

"Hello !? I'm shot !?"

Everyone looked at the man who's lying on the floor, Dana's shitty boyfriend. Bowser pointed his gun at the guy, cuffed then took him.

"Dad?"

Blair is still waiting for an answer, that she knows she's not gonna get, for now.

"Sterling come here!"

Blair took Sterling's wrist then took her to Bowser's car.

"Blair II - alkdjadniw"

Sterling's blabbering, because she's still in shock. Blair closed the backseat door where they're sitting.

"Listen to me, Sterl. We will always be sisters. Twin sisters. You just came out of our mom's twin sister. See? We're still twins"

Sterling looked at Blair who's waiting for her to speak.

"Y-yeah. Yeah. I could - I could deal with that."

Sterling can't cry. She's overwhelmed with emotions and shock and questions. They both looked out of the window when the police arrived. Dana is being put in jail.

Debbie, Anders, and Bowser are talking when the police left.

"Holy shit! They're gonna know that Bowser is a bounty hunter!"

Blair is now in a panic.

"W-what? Why? How?"

Sterling is still confused, her mind is far away from wherever they are.

"Shit they looked at us! Hide!"

They both ducked.

"Wait, why are we hiding?"

Sterling still full of confusion but she follows what Blair is doing because Blair is the only one that makes sense to her now.

"I - I - why are you hiding?"

Blair asked her back. Suddenly, the driver's seat door opened.

"Girls. I will get you home now. Okay?"

They sighed in relief when they heard Bowser's voice so they sat back on their seats.

"Did you tell them about bounty hunting? Did you tell them that we're on your team?"

Bowser rolled his eyes at Blair's question.

"First, I did not tell them that I am a bounty hunter. Second, they will never know you're on my team."

The twins took a big sigh. Blair is relieved that their cover isn't blown, as if a spy dodged a bullet. Sterling, took a big sigh because now that her mom is actually her aunt, she's seeing the family that she grew up in, in a totally different way.

"Third,"

Bowser broke the silence that made the two look at him.

"Are you okay baby girl?"

He's looking directly at Sterling. Blair looked at Sterling, waiting for her to answer Bowsie.

"Yeah, I guess so."

She looked down on her hand and tried to play with her nails.

"You know what? You don't even look like her. You look more like mom. Our mom. You're her favorite and I'm sure she loves you so much--," Blair's eyebrows crossed again. "--more than she loves me."

Confused with her own sentence, she shrugged it off, like she's telling herself that that's not the point.

"Do you remember in third grade, she told us she's gonna make us a ham sandwich for lunch, and then you got the ham sandwich and I got the peanut butter sandwich !?"

Sterling laughed when she remembered how angry Blair was when they got home and told their mom.

"Do you remember what she said?"

Asked Blair.

"Yeah. You told her, 'where was my ham sandwich !?'"

The two laughed because Sterling made an impression of Blair's third-grade-angry-face.

"Yeah! And she was like, 'Blair, you should learn to give to others especially your sister. I love you both so much but a responsible older sister should always take care of her younger sister.'"

They looked at each other.

"Yeah. That was fair."

Sterling finally agreed.

"She always put you first over me. Always has and always has been. But, works for me. Less attention, less expectation. It's enough for me to know they love me, they love us. But so you know, you have to take care of your kidney because I am not going to donate it. I want to die with my organs complete and intact. "

Bowser, silently listening to them shakes his head in awe.

"I should really stay hydrated."

Hydrated. Shoot. The water bottle. Lock-in meeting. April.

"Bye, Sterl."

Once again, Sterling took a big sigh. Her heart is crumbling like paper. Now her tears are starting to run down but she tried to hide them and wipe them away using her forehand.

"Oh my God!"

She looked at Blair when she heard her scream.

"What?"

Blair looked back at Sterling with tears in her eyes. With a wide freaking smile.

"It's Miles! He wants to talk!"

Blair happily hugged Sterl. The latter is so happy for her sister.

"Holy crap. We're gonna makeup, we'll be together again! Oh, sweet Jesus! I miss his smell!"

Sterling, can't help but miss April.

Her lips.

Her smile.

Her kiss.

Her smell.

Her skin.

"Honey"

Debbie hugged Sterling so tight. She knows Sterling is in shock but she's scared to let Sterling think negative thoughts and doubt herself.

"M-Can I still call you mom?"

Asked Sterling while they're hugging each other.

"Oh, sweetheart. I am your mom. No one else could be your mom. Okay? And you, are Sterling. You are our daughter. You are sisters - twin sisters."

Debbie softly touched their chins while smiling.

"See? I told you we're still sisters and twins."

Blair happily told Sterling. She smiled so wide. She's never been this happy to be a part of this family.

"I can't even imagine my life without you. I mean, who's gonna let me borrow a bra and never return it and doesn't get mad?"

Sterling laughed again. Anders and Debbie hugged the twins. They looked at each other with a genuine smile. Their hands intertwined with each other. Anders kissed Debbie on her forehead with a sigh of relief because the husband and the wife know that this night just made their family ties stronger than ever.

"Okay, can we please face the fact that you guys still didn't answer my questions last night?"

Typical Blair, asking questions and gets paranoid when they're not being answered.

"Okay, honey. First of all, we are having breakfast. I don't think it's appropriate to talk about that this time."

Blair's brows arched once again because of disbelief.

"A-actually, mom--" Sterling slightly smiled then reached for her nape. "--I want to know. I think I deserve that."

Debbie silently put down her tea, took the napkin out of her lap, and damped it on her lips before saying anything. Anders reached for Debbie's hand that is resting on her lap, which made her look at Anders. She took a big sigh.

"Okay, I'm going to make it short and precise."

Sterling and Blair are waiting for the answers while Anders enjoys himself chewing his food, but it is making an annoying sound. The three girls looked at him.

"What? I'm just eating my food."

Debbie rolled her eyes. The twins looked back at Debbie.

"Dana showed in our old house carrying you. Blair was just a month old. She told me she can't take care of you so she wanted me to take care of you as my own. Dana was a mess. I mean, she still is. But I don't know who your father is. That's it. "

Sterling isn't bothered anymore. She's a Wesley and will always be a Wesley.

"Are you going home right after school?"

Asked Blair while she's driving to school. Sterling's mind is still in the wind.

"Y-yeah. I guess. I don't have much to do."

Blair looked at Sterling with worry.

"It's gonna be okay. I know it's hard for you to walk around and see her in every corner but you have to be strong."

Sterling looked at Blair.

"Yeah. I just have to be strong."

Blair looked at her again, not convinced by how Sterling said those words.

"Or you can pretend you hate her again until it comes true."

Sterling looked at her.

"II-can't do that."

Sterling looked in the side-view mirror when she saw that they're approaching the parking lot.

"Just pretend. Okay? Act tough and doesn't care about her."

The last piece of advice from Blair before they step out of the car. "By the way, you have to take an uber later. I'm gonna meet with Miles. It's our make-up date. Or probably make-up-then-make-out-date."

Sterl just nodded to Blair.

"Incoming."

She whispered to Sterling as she saw April approaching them. Sterling's heart is pounding just the thought of hearing April's voice. She's directly looking at April while walking and is ready to stop whenever April greets her but to her dismay, April didn't greet her, or even called her name, or even took a glimpse of her.

Sterling stopped and turned around, chasing April's back by staring at her.

"Hey, Luke!"

Sterling turned her back before she sees the flirting that is about to happen.

"How is she doing that? I mean, that would be so hard for a gay woman to flirt with someone who's not even on her menu."

Whispered Blair to Sterling while walking towards the entrance.

"Shhhh someone might hear you."

Sterling dropped her bag then turned her face down the table. She kept taking deep breaths, assuming it would heal her aching heart.

"I told you to save me a seat beside you"

She heard the voice she's longing to hear, but she kept her cool and decided to only move when the bell rang.

"I'm sorry, Hannah B is already here when I came in. I wouldn't wanna sit beside--"

Ezequiel looked down at sleeping Sterling. April doesn't even need to turn her back to know who that girl is because even her peripheral vision can recognize her instantly. But for the sake of pretending, she looked around and rolled her eyes.

"Fine."

~~

Hey guys I didn't know that tumblr has a limit. So I cant post the whole chapter. If you'd like to continue reading you can go to my wattpad account. Here's the link.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/251725935?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=BlueWhaaale&wp_originator=ayB6mhaua0htPKGYUuBaMBOLTreql97Gtq2XrCSLeglsobjcXhwlj7feIgshPrYg37%2F%2FSPEokHRINccn6JFN1sjV4x%2BZ8bgbF1HtvWBwBfwTOpRpdINWFkLBcro73h7g

#stepril #sterling wesley #netflixandchill #netflixquotes #netflixseries #emotions #love #april stevens #sterling x april #tbhedit #writing #my writing #writers #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #chapter #lgbt #lgbtqiia+ #lgbtq #lesbian love #teenage bounty hunters #blair wesley #bowser #save teenage bounty hunters

[law-school-zombie]

Shassie Sickfic: Shawn Takes Care of a Grumpy Lassie

The warmth that enveloped Shawn every night slowly slipped away, leaving a chilly emptiness in its wake. Shawn groaned and opened his eyes, looking up just in time to see Carlton swing his legs over the side of the bed and stand. "Lassie," he whined dramatically, reaching for a blanket that he had discarded due to sleeping beside his own personal furnace of a boyfriend. 

It was dark, but Shawn could mentally see the don't-be-dramatic look on Carlton's face. "I'll be right back."

"Where're you going?" Shawn mumbled into the pillow. 

"The bathroom," Carlton answered. "You know, the one that is fifteen feet away. You'll live." 

Shawn pouted. "This wouldn't happen if your old-man bladder could handle a little water before bed." Carlton didn't answer and left for the bathroom, leaving Shawn to wonder if the age jab had gone too far. Shawn loved Lassiter, but his jokes were always hit or miss depending on the detective's mood. 

Shawn only knew he managed to drift off again when he felt his furnace return to the bed beside him. With his eyes still closed, he wrapped his arms around Carlton, humming in content. If the detective had been mad earlier, he gave no indication of it now as his hands made his way to Shawn's back where he began to rub gentle circles through his t-shirt. "Get some sleep, Shawn. If you want a ride to work, you have to wake up with me." 

The statement made Shawn wrinkle his nose in disgust because early mornings weren't his cup of tea, but they were at least bearable when they showered together and Carlton made their coffee. "'Kay," he agreed finally. The familiar warmth eliciting from his boyfriend combined with the back rubs he received caused him to drift off relatively quickly. Carlton knew exactly how to get him to sleep, and as always, his plan had worked perfectly. 

Until it happened again. 

"Seriously, no more water before bed for you," Shawn groaned as Carlton rolled away from him and sat up for the second time. Shawn had no idea how much time had passed since his boyfriend's last trip to the bathroom, but he guessed it had only been a couple of hours. 

"Sorry," was Carlton's response. His voice was tight, but the man was easy enough to wind up that Shawn was again confused as to whether or not his comments were unwanted, or if he was simply tired. The latter made sense, as Carlton had to be getting less sleep than him at this point. Plus, Shawn could always make the decision to sleep in and take his bike to work, whereas the head detective had a significantly less lenient work schedule. 

Carlton headed to the bathroom again, and this time Shawn couldn't fall back asleep. He was kept awake by his usual running thoughts and a slight bit of paranoia that made him wonder if he was going to get a lecture in the morning. Then again, it was just as plausible that Carlton wasn't mad because he had never been the most talkative person Shawn has met. It was also possible that Lassiter--who oftentimes loved to watch Shawn squirm--was messing with him in return by being short with him. 

Not for the first time, Shawn wondered why he chose to date the one person he could never quite read. 

Carlton's return shook Shawn out of his thoughts. The man let out a tired sigh as he returned to bed, and though it could easily be due to exhaustion, Shawn found himself wondering if something was actually wrong. "Are you okay?" he murmured quietly into his boyfriend's shoulder. 

"I'm fine." 

Shawn lifted his head slightly off the warm surface. "Are we okay?" 

At that, Lassiter looped an arm around him again and gave him a gentle, affectionate squeeze. "Everything's okay, Shawn. Try to go back to sleep." 

"I've been trying," Shawn complained. "Did you finally get everything out of your system?" 

There was a beat of silence. Carlton let out a puff of air, and Shawn felt it against the back of his neck, leaving him with pleasant goosebumps. "I hope so," he said finally. 

Odd, Shawn thought, but he made the decision to let the comment slide. If something was wrong, they could talk about it in the morning when they were more coherent and rested. "Okay, g'night," he said behind a yawn. "Love you. Don't pee again." 

Carlton chuckled. "Love you too." 

The third time it happened, Shawn was actually annoyed. Carlton sat up in bed, leaving Shawn to glare at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 3:30 in the morning was far too late for either of them to be awake, and he knew that his boyfriend tended to be grumpier than usual (which was pretty grumpy, to say the least) when sleep-deprived. Shawn sat up this time too, glaring as Lassiter rose from the bed again. "Seriously, this time someone better be breaking in, or you better be passing a freaking kidney stone or something, otherwise I'm going to the couch where Mr. Pineapples," Shawn held up a pineapple-shaped plushie that Carlton got him after their third date, "can keep me warm." 

Again, Carlton was silent as he walked in the direction of the bathroom. Shawn threw up his hands and scoffed, now feeling as though he was owed a serious explosion for the aloofness emitting from the detective. This time, Shawn followed him after a while, not wanting to let the behavior slide any longer. He walked to the bathroom door and knocked, leaning against it as he waited impatiently for a response. As far as he could tell, the sound of peeing was absent entirely, which only frustrated him more. "Are you seriously just going to ignore me? What the hell did I do? I didn't even slap your ass at work today. I've been on my best behavior." There was only silence yet again, and Shawn decided to take matters into his own hands. "Alright, this is getting a little ridiculous, even for me, and we both know…" Shawn opened the door and trailed off when he realized what had been happening all night. Carlton may not have been peeing, but the sight of him on his knees, hunched over the toilet was more than enough to wash away all traces of anger. "Oh." 

Carlton didn't answer, but the muscles in his back did jump as a quiet retch brought up a mouthful of vomit into the toilet. Shawn approached the man slowly, similar to the way he'd approach a wild animal, only his trigger-happy boyfriend could prove to be far more dangerous if the mood was right. Or wrong. Either way, really. Eventually, he knelt down beside Carlton, and up-close he noticed the small tremors coursing through the older man's body. Shawn slowly put a hand on his back, surprised when the touch was brushed off. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't know you were sick." 

"I'm not," Carlton said stubbornly. "Maybe it was something I ate. Or maybe I got a stomach virus. I don't know." 

Shawn raised an eyebrow as he rubbed circles into the man's back, just as Carlton had done for him while they were in bed. "Yeah, I think both food poisoning and stomach bugs constitute as being sick. Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I don't typically display weakness in front of others," Carlton answered simply. 

Of course. Shawn should have guessed as much, as he has always known that if the two of them were to marry, he'd have to change his last name to Mr. I'd-rather-die-than-take-a-sick-day. It was then that it hit him how much their relationship must mean to Lassiter if he was willing to let Shawn keep him company while he emptied his stomach into the toilet. "Well, I for one don't think this is a display of weakness at all. I mean, here you are upchucking like a champ. You know, I asked for my mommy every time I threw up until I was 30." 

Carlton chuckled, spitting into the toilet. "You still do, Shawn." 

Shawn pat Carlton's back. "See? Case and point." 

"It's case in point." 

"I've heard it both ways." 

Carlton belched softly, grimacing. "You should probably head back to bed. This is just disgusting." 

Shawn tisked. "Lassie, Lassie, Lassie. Have you met Gus ever? My best friend throws up like three times a day. I can handle it." 

Carlton grabbed a wad of toilet paper, using it to wipe his mouth and nose. "I'm done anyway. There's no chance in hell I've got anything left after three trips." 

Shawn stood so Carlton could have room to pull himself together. The toilet flushed and the older man walked weakly over to the sink, bracing himself on either side of the counter after turning on the water. Shawn decided to step up and he grabbed a washcloth, running it under the cool water. Gently, he dabbed away beads of sweat that were collecting on Lassiter's face, surprised when he wasn't swatted away. If anything, the creases on his boyfriend's face disappearing indicated that the action was appreciated. When that was done, Shawn grabbed a small paper cup from the cupboard and filled it with water, handing it over. "Here. Take a few sips and rinse out your mouth. Maybe not in that order." 

Carlton rinsed first and managed to drink a little without immediately spewing. That was a good sign, right? "I'm ready to go back to bed. With any luck, I'll feel better tomorrow morning." 

Shawn took him by the arm and began to lead the two of them back to the bedroom. "Even if you do feel better tomorrow, should you still try to go to work? I mean, you should probably get as much rest as possible, and it doesn't seem like you've been getting much sleep tonight."

They made it back to the bed and Lassiter collapsed down onto it with an appreciative groan. "I have a perfect attendance record," he protested quietly. 

Shawn scoffed. "What is this, fifth grade?" he slid into bed beside Carlton, this time keeping in mind the sensitive state of the man's stomach as he tangled the two of them together. "You know, if you weren't such a workaholic, maybe you wouldn't be doing impersonations of a wild goose mating call all night." 

"I have an excellent immune system, Spencer. I'm not entirely sure that your choice in restaurants agrees with my stomach." 

Shawn gasped mockingly. "Lassie, how dare you? Street gyros are an absolute gem. God forbid I make you eat something other than sunflower seeds for lunch." 

Carlton's body began to relax against his, and Shawn knew it wouldn't be long before his boyfriend fell asleep. "Sunflower seeds don't take up any time," he murmured. 

Shawn rolled his eyes at Lassiter's eating habits (or lack thereof) and listened peacefully as the older man's breathing evened out. With any luck at all, the detective would wake up feeling better and maybe even well-rested enough to make it into work. Shawn made the decision that if he even had the slightest suspicion something was off in the morning, he'd try to give Carlton his famous puppy eyes to make him stay home. 

That, or he could threaten him with Chief Vick. 

Shawn smirked as a soft snore escaped from the other's sleeping form. He treasured these moments that the two had together--the ones where they could both unapologetically be themselves and not worry about judgment from the other. Shawn kissed Carlton's temple, allowing himself to reflect on all of the right choices he made during his life that led to this very moment. With those pleasant thoughts in his mind, Shawn eventually joined Carlton in a peaceful slumber. 

…………………………………………………

Luck may not have been on their side the following morning, but Shawn still took in this moment for everything it was worth. 

Carlton, much to his dismay, woke up sore and nauseous, which Shawn knew had to be bad when it was the man himself who suggested that he stay home from work. Shawn, of course, agreed right away and told him to get more rest and hopefully sleep off the bug. That's how he wound up watching over his boyfriend while he slept, grinning unashamedly the entire time. Though they moved in together a month ago and had stayed over at each other's places several times before that, Shawn rarely got to watch Carlton sleep. Carlton was always the first one up, and oftentimes, the last one in bed. When Shawn did stay up or woke up in the middle of the night, the darkness of the bedroom made it impossible to make out any features. Sometimes when Carlton would agree to watch cartoons with him, he'd dose off quickly, but Shawn's head was usually too comfortable in the man’s lap for him to see his face. Now, sitting on the edge of the bed as his boyfriend slept, Shawn had a perfect view. It was refreshing to see his usually stoic and ornery look peaceful for once, and even though he was 99% sure his boyfriend was currently having a lovely dream about shooting someone, there was a hint of child-like innocence while he slept. 

Shawn was snapped out of his musing when his phone dinged from the nightstand. He grabbed it quickly and turned the volume down, not wanting anything to disturb his sick partner.  It was a text from Juliet, which he had been expecting. Carlton’s colleagues were bound to be a little worried since the man never volunteered to take a sick day. 

Hey, Shawn. Chief Vick told me Carlton isn’t feeling well. Is he alright? Do you guys need anything? -J. O’H. 

Shawn texted her back: 

Lassie’s pukey :( -S.S 

Yikes! Stomach viruses are the absolute worse. Do you need me to swing by with anything on my lunch break? The Chief said I could go early if you two needed anything. -J. O’H

Shawn debated the question, looking down at Lassiter’s sleeping form. He texted back quickly: 

I was going to have Gus swing by and see if his knowledge from his side-job could serve to be useful. If we need anything from you, I’ll be sure to let you know. I’m sure our little Lassie pup will be back to shooting people and screaming at McNab soon. :) -S.S 

Shawn had just sent the last text before he noticed stirring coming from the bed. With a small groan that Carlton would be sure to deny later, he opened his blue eyes and locked his gaze with Shawn’s. “What time issit?” he mumbled. 

Shawn looked over at the alarm clock. “It’s a little past nine. How are you feeling?” 

Carlton seemed to debate this for a moment. “Sick,” he decided. He curled into himself on the bed, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. Shawn noticed he had his arms wrapped around his stomach, a rare sign of weakness that Shawn knew was reserved solely for him. 

“Like I’m-gonna-hurl-now sick? Do you need to go to the bathroom?” 

Another groan escaped Carlton. “Maybe, yeah. I can’t imagine that I have anything left though.” The man swung his legs over the bed and stood unsteadily. Shawn grabbed him by his arm and gently guided him to the toilet where his boyfriend quickly lifted the seat and knelt on the floor. A dry heave instantly wracked his entire shaking frame and Shawn was quick to start rubbing his back to offer any form of comfort he could. Carlton dry heaved again, this time wincing in pain as his stomach lurched. 

“Just try to breathe,” Shawn said softly. 

“I’m not a child, Spencer,” Carlton snapped weakly. “I know-” he was cut off by a sick-sounding belch that was followed by a trickle of bile that left the older man shuddering. 

Shawn ignored the cranky attitude and continued to comfort him. “Are you in a lot of pain?” 

Carlton nodded. “I feel like I’ve been shot in the gut.” 

Deciding to take a risk, Shawn’s hand crept up the hem of Carlton’s SBPD t-shirt where it rested gently on the man’s thin stomach. He could feel it jolt underneath his palm with every heave and he made the executive decision to rub it gently. Surprisingly, he wasn’t shook off, and even more surprisingly, Carlton let out a sigh that sounded appreciative as he rested his head on the arm that was draped across the toilet. “Are you finished?” Shawn asked. 

Carlton nodded. “But don’t stop.” 

Shawn smiled genuinely, the request reminding him that his partner, despite his rugged exterior, had complete trust in him. “I’ll continue, but not on the bathroom floor. This can’t be good for your old-man knees.” 

Carlton lifted his head, and though Shawn couldn’t see his face, he was sure those pools of blue were glaring at him. “I’m six years older than you, Spencer.” 

“But already much, much greyer,” Shawn reminded him, kissing the top of Lassiter’s salt and pepper head. 

Carlton flushed the toilet and leaned back in Shawn’s welcoming arms. “Don’t forget I have guns hidden throughout the house.” 

Shawn chuckled. “Eight, to be exact. Although, I moved the one that was buried in the pistachio bowl. We don’t hide guns with snacks, Lassie.” 

“Excuse me for not knowing that I was going to end up living with the living embodiment of a hungry, hungry hippo.” 

“That’s Gus,” Shawn retorted, helping the detective stand and leading them back to the bedroom. “I’m more like a raccoon that lives off of other people’s leftovers.” Shawn pulled Lassiter down onto the bed, immediately curling around the man’s lanky frame. He resumed rubbing gentle circles into Carlton’s stomach, feeling the gratification as he felt him relax. “The spirits are talking to me, Lassie. They say that you’re secretly glad you live with a foodie because doing so reminds you that meals can be so much more than coffee and protein bars.” 

“You’re not psychic,” Lassiter murmured into his pillow. “And 99% of the meals I see you consume revolt me.” 

Shawn let out a soft ‘aww’ as he nuzzled the back of Carlton’s neck. “My boyfriend has a sensitive tummy.” 

“Do not. I’m just not a human dumpster.” 

“Do so. I think not being able to handle street gyros speaks for itself.” 

“So you admit that you poisoned me?” 

Shawn smirked. “I am simply stating that dating me is going to slowly level up your stomach until it can compete with mine.” 

“Not gonna happ’n,” Lassiter mumbled tiredly. “I am never eating with you again.” 

Shawn hummed, listening as his partner’s breathing evened out once more as he fell asleep. “Whatever you say, Lassie,” he murmured sleepily. Shawn too felt himself begin to drift off. He would just take a quick nap with his boyfriend, and when he woke up he’d have Gus’ encyclopedia brain give him some advice. In the meantime, he was perfectly content right where he was. 

#Psych #Shawn Spencer #carlton lassiter #sickfic #sick!lassiter #cuddly!shawn #vomiting #emeto #fanfic #food poisoning? #or stomach virus? #we will never know #shassie #pukey lassie is a cuddly lassie

[a-stone-world-saga]

Byakuya is observant, especially when it comes to his son, and especially when it comes to his son after he returns from his trip to space. So of course he notices the deepening bags under Senkuu’s eyes, the way he stays out late or leaves in the middle of the night and only comes home in the early hours of the morning on legs that tremble with exhaustion. And Byakuya still doesn’t know how to help, doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know how to make Senkuu sleep because he very obviously isn’t, but sometimes he does come home from work and find his son sitting on the balcony in a patch sunlight, wrapped in a blanket and dozing off with the wind tugging at his hair.

And that gives Byakuya an idea. For some reason, Senkuu isn’t comfortable sleeping inside anymore. So, Byakuya will just have to give him a way to sleep outside. Unfortunately, they live in an apartment and the balcony is too small, but spring break is coming up, so Byakuya buys all the gear needed for a camping trip, and then he announces to Senkuu that they're going on vacation.

(He knows better than to ask now. That sounds bad, but he knows Senkuu will always say no if faced with the decision, even if he means yes. So Byakuya thinks it's easier for both of them if he simply tells Senkuu what they're doing, and if Senkuu really doesn't want to do it, he'll still say no. Otherwise, even if he's only indifferent, it seems too much effort for his son to argue, and for now, that will have to be enough.)

Senkuu blinks at him, utterly baffled for once, which is still a far sight better than the dull, tired looks Byakuya's been getting for months now.

"Camping?" Senkuu parrots slowly.

Byakuya beams, two fishing poles over one shoulder, a camping chair under his other arm. "It'll be fun, Senkuu! We've never gone camping before!"

He's even rented an RV for the occasion, although of course he bought a tent as well. That's the whole point.

Senkuu stares at him some more, and Byakuya knows his son probably knows what he's trying to do. But in the end, Senkuu shrugs and shuffles upstairs to pack, and Byakuya will take that as a win.

Later, between reading the ridiculously complicated instruction manual and pitching their tent and figuring out how to stretch a tarp over their heads because it started raining, Byakuya thinks this was definitely one of his better ideas. He's not quite sure when Senkuu acquired the skills to get a fire going for them before doing the lion's share of pitching the tent, but Senkuu actually snickered when Byakuya failed miserably at the latter and half of it collapsed on him, and then he even showed Byakuya how to get their campsite set up properly.

Night falls soon after, and they sit huddled around the fire wrapped in blankets and eating meat skewers as the rain drums down all around them. They're still a bit damp from getting everything set up, it's not exactly comfortable, but Byakuya looks at Senkuu - at the way he's kicked his shoes off and is checking their food like he knows exactly what he's doing, at the way his shoulders have lost their strained rigidity - and he doesn't think he's seen him this happy in a long while.

Camping was definitely a good call.

Byakuya wakes four times that night, not quite used to the howl of the unexpected storm or the call of night birds that follow in the startling silence that follows, but when he checks on Senkuu, his son is sleeping like the dead possibly for the first time since Byakuya got back from space, curled up in his sleeping bag, face uncreased by nightmares, like the wilderness all around them was the lullaby he'd needed all along.

Byakuya smiles and runs fingers through Senkuu's hair, careful not to disturb him, and then lies back down to get some more sleep himself. It isn't so bad out here, just takes some getting used to, not any worse than zero gravity in space. And if it helps Senkuu, then Byakuya will adapt even if it kills him.

They go fishing in the morning. Senkuu snorts at Byakuya's attempts and teaches him how to catch fish with his bare hands just by wading in with a spear he literally fashions out of wood and stone and then waiting for the right moment. Byakuya grins and follows his lead and doesn't mention how seriously weird it is that Senkuu would know such a thing.

They spend the next several days exploring their surroundings, hiking, or just kicking back and relaxing. On the fifth day, they find a cliff near their campsite that Byakuya announces is perfect.

Senkuu is silent when Byakuya produces the telescope he... borrowed from his college. It's bigger than the one he bought for Senkuu years ago, a newer model, and more powerful.

"I thought we could look at the stars together!" Byakuya suggests. They haven't done that in years. As a child, Senkuu would show off all the constellations he managed to locate, and at least back then, Byakuya knew more about space than his genius son but he found Senkuu adorable and pretended not to know. Senkuu was always so proud to be able to teach Byakuya something new.

His smile falters now though when he catches sight of Senkuu's face. Senkuu stares at the telescope with something terrifyingly like heartbreak, like he's seeing something else entirely, remembering something else entirely, a burden Byakuya doesn't know how to get him to share, and no, this isn't happening, this trip was going so well and Byakuya isn't going to mess it up now, damn it.

"We don't have to if you don't want to!" He practically shouts, wondering if he should just shove the telescope out of sight again. Senkuu doesn't even seem to hear him at this point.

But.

But.

"I miss you, Senkuu." It's not something he means to say, and it surprises him as much as it does Senkuu, who blinks twice and twitches a little like he's finally back in the present again instead of trapped in whatever nightmare is living in his head. He stares at Byakuya, and Byakuya hates the way his shoulders hunch in again, and the way he glances off to the side before looking back with a smirk so forced a blind man could tell it was fake.

"What are you talking about, Dad? I'm right here," Senkuu takes a breath, shoves his hands in his pockets, and jerks his shoulder in the direction of the cliff. "Stargazing, sure. Haven't done that in a while. Let's go."

He takes a few steps, then stops and looks back when he realizes Byakuya isn't following. "Dad?"

Byakuya sets the telescope down, and then covers the space between them with a few strides.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," He repeats, quieter, watching the way Senkuu tenses even further and ducks his head to hide his face. "Just say so. It's fine, we can find something else to do. But Senkuu... please don't pull away like this."

I'm right here, He doesn't know how to say, how to make Senkuu believe it even if he did. I'm right here, I'm not going away. Whatever you're carrying that's so heavy, whatever's hurting you, whatever you're trying to protect me from - it can't possibly be worse than making me watch you suffer on your own.

He doesn't know how to put all that into words that Senkuu will accept, and so instead he reaches out and pulls Senkuu into a hug. He doesn't hesitate, and he doesn't let go even when Senkuu stays stiff in his arms for the longest time. He knows Senkuu, and if he doesn't want the hug, he would've jabbed an elbow into Byakuya's kidney by now, just as he did when he'd first moved in with Byakuya.

It feels like an age has passed, but eventually, slim arms snake around his back and desperate fingers claw themselves into his shirt. There aren't any tears from where Senkuu's pressed his face to Byakuya's shoulder, but the desire to cry is there, in the minute tremble of his shoulders and the way he barely breathes. Senkuu's always held himself too stiff and too still whenever he wanted to hold back tears. This is still his son, and Byakuya will always know. He has to swallow the lump in his throat before he can speak.

"How about we forego stargazing tonight," He suggests in lighter tones. "And roast marshmallows instead? I feel like eating something sweet anyway. You can show me the best way to toast them. I always light mine on fire somehow."

Senkuu doesn't reply out loud, but the brief extra tightness of his arms around Byakuya is gratitude, and it's telling that he hasn't pulled away yet. Byakuya hesitates, and then decides to try.

"And then," Byakuya continues softly, soothingly. "Tell me one thing. One thing I don't know. It can be anything. It doesn't even have to make sense. But... give me one thing, to carry for you."

Senkuu is so still for a moment that it's a little like hugging a statue. But then a shuddering breath bursts out of him, tearing out of his throat like shards of broken glass. Another breath, and then another, and there's still no tears, but Byakuya doesn't let go, and in the end, he's rewarded with the slightest of nods.

He very carefully does not give in to the urge to collapse with relief.

Instead, he hugs Senkuu a bit harder, rocking back and forth a little like he did when Senkuu was still six and waking in the middle of the night from a nightmare of Byakuya returning him to foster care. He hums something nonsensical and doesn't let go until Senkuu does. The tension leaks from his boy - not all of it but enough to make a difference - as Byakuya leads them back over to the camping chairs and whips out a pack of marshmallows to wave in Senkuu's face.

Senkuu actually rolls his eyes, and neither of them comments on the way his voice isn't quite steady when he speaks. "We need to start a fire first, old man. Sit down before you trip into it."

Byakuya grins and sits down as Senkuu bustles around him to get another fire going. He digs around for the prongs instead, and by the time he finds them, a merry fire is already crackling away on the logs.

They settle in with the marshmallows between them as the last of the sunlight disappears and the evening chill drifts in. Senkuu ducks into the tent and comes back with two blankets, dropping one on Byakuya's head before wrapping himself in the other one.

Byakuya indeed lights five marshmallows on fire before Senkuu takes pity on him and toasts him a couple perfectly golden-brown ones. Byakuya bites into them with relish, and then splutters when he burns his tongue, but it's worth it to see Senkuu sigh at him, something fond tugging at a corner of his mouth.

They chow down half the marshmallows, and then boil water for ramen because they can't just eat marshmallows for dinner. Byakuya tells Senkuu about making his fellow astronauts at the space station try ramen - in space! - and how even uptight Shamil admitted it was good.

Byakuya doesn't push about what comes after the marshmallows. Senkuu agreed, so he'll tell Byakuya when he's ready. They're in bed, comfortably warm with only the sound of whispering trees outside, and staring up at the stars through the transparent tent ceiling when Senkuu finally tells him:

He weaves a story of six people shipwrecked at the end of a petrified stone world, with no one else to help them and no technology to support them. He tells of how these six men and women built a life anyway, as best they could - fell in love, had children, and left their marks before they died.

But most of all, Senkuu talks of one man in particular, a father who lost his son to stone but never gave up hope that one day he would break free, and so he prepared accordingly. He left a legacy of knowledge and resources and a hundred tales passed down through the generations to ensure his son would receive his gift. He left a message too, a spoken letter carried through time, from father to son - his fierce belief in a brighter future, his steadfast faith in his son's strength and skill, and all his love for this boy he'd never see again.

Senkuu falls silent after that, and Byakuya does not ask questions, even though a dozen burn on the tip of his tongue. He stays awake, long after even Senkuu nods off, and he stares up at the stars and wonders.

He doesn't understand, not entirely. But something about the story makes him scrub tears from his eyes anyway, something about it resounds with something inside him.

He doesn't ask questions, because that wasn't the point, but for a while, he watches Senkuu sleep and thinks of the news reports - prior to his trip to space - about the stone swallows that had started appearing all over the world, but had disappeared just as quickly a few before he’d come back.

#dr stone #ishigami senkuu #ishigami byakuya #cross writes #tt senkuu au

[baajisms]

Okay so, I’ve done a bit of research and come to the headcanon that Anna has Addison’s Disease (otherwise known as adrenal insufficiency or hypoadrenalism). It occurs when the adrenal glands above the kidneys doesn’t produce enough coritsol and sometimes aldosterone. It’s a life long condition that she didn’t get ‘diagnosed’ with until she was in her 20s when she stressed herself out too much. She had shown signs & symptoms that something wasn’t right for a while, but it was always brushed off. It is not hereditary and Anna did not inherit it from one of her parents, nor can she pass it down to Seymour.

Many of the symptoms that Anna presented with in her 20′s could be explained away by her parents, peers or a medic as depression, the flu or her working too hard. Granted, medical knowledge is probably not all that great in Spira, which is why her condition got worse with age. She was able to regulate for so long due to sodium and potassium regulations and with what the medics could come up with to stave the symptoms, without really known the full disease. 

Symptoms such as fatigue and tiredness, lack of energy, fainting spells, low blood sugar, nausea, cravings & loss of appetite, the latter of which led to weight loss, were all some of the symptoms she experienced during her youth & young adult life. Usually they came one or two at a time (e.g. she would be have days or weeks where she’d be fatigued or tired more than others, her low blood sugar would coincide with the cravings) and were manageable so long as she didn’t get too stressed.

Speaking of which, do you want to know what worsen this disease? Stress. Do you want to know what stresses Anna out? Giving birth. Getting Exiled. Undertaking a long & very difficult pilgrimage, where she’s the sole protector of her only child that’s been bullied & tormented by 2 racial groups that don’t accept him, practically dragging him to a place where he’ll ultimately watch his own mother sacrifice herself so he might have a chance at acceptance, but only if he defeats a being that will kill him too and will end up coming back anyway. Breathe, Dusk, breathe. 

Giving Birth & the ‘pilgrimage’ are the two that sent her into an Addisionian Crisis (or Adrenal Crisis) and very nearly killed her. Seymour’s birth was helped by the fact that they had an experienced team of Guado on hand and his birth was okay (as far as births go at least), but the stress it puts a person’s body under is large. Jyscal, Tromell, Tromell’s wife & a few other Guado knew about Anna’s diagnoses and kept a very watchful eye on her during her pregnancy. Addison’s can cause pregnancy complications (e.g. preterm birth or low birth weight) , but very luckily for Anna, Seymour was born safely, if not a little bit underweight for a Guado baby. However, the stress from the pregnancy & the Addison’s disease sealed Anna’s fate for having any more children. While the disease does not cause infertility, fertility is significantly impaired for those that have it. Her not having any more children is one of the best things she can do for her body, but whether or not she’d even be able to is another story.

If she hadn’t become a Fayth at Zanarkand, the symptoms of the crisis would’ve killed her. By that point, her body was so weak, underfed & just not in good shape that an Addisonian Crisis would’ve killed her and chances are, she wouldn’t have been able to make it back to Baaj. Admittedly, it was the stress of working too hard that made the symptoms start showing when she was a young adult. All the other signs that something was wrong were brushed off until one day, she collapsed and didn’t get out of bed for a week. 

If this were in the real world, she’d take medication to replace the missing hormones & steroid medications that she’d be on for the rest of her life. But, that medical marvel hadn’t made it’s appearance in the world of Spira by the time Anima became a Fayth. Her treatment included a lot of sodium & potassium regulations to ensure her levels stayed up and the brew that the Guado later came up with. It’s not exactly (I don’t expect Spira to have the same level of medical knowledge as the real world does & I hope people are willing to take one or two liberties with the things that Anima does to stave off the symptoms of this disease) the same as medication to replace the missing hormones, but it was able to stave off the disease for a good portion of her life, so long as she didn’t get stressed out too much.

#* headcanon #depression tw #She just basically has to be the chillest person ever otherwise she'll die 8) #This is by no means a complete headcanon #I'll probably forever be researching things to develop it #and I'll try my best to incorporate it into canon verses at least #Still undecided if I want her illness to come back post-X2 but we'll see

[skgway]

1824 Aug., Fri. 27

6 3/4

11 1/2

Expected the person from Waller’s at 8 – Did not come till 8 35/60 – Buckley came at 9 25/60 – Makes silk pelisses, spencers, morning gown – Their business is chiefly with the ladies – Plain black silk pelisse 11 1/2 guineas, much trimmed 14 guineas.

Breakfast at 10 – Wrote 1 1/2 page to my aunt – Went out at 12 – To Temple Bar, up Fetter-Lane etc. to No. 54 Hatton Garden, to the office of the sitting magistrates – After waiting 1/4 hour, admitted into the room where sat the 3 magistrates (a private business about a great robbery had kept the room private before) – 

Asked permission to see the tread-mill – They hemmed and ahed – Said they were not the visiting magistrates – Could not grant me permission – Asked who could – They gave no direct answer – I said a person at Clerkenwell had told me yesterday the sitting magistrate in Hatton Garden could give permission, but if he could not I only wished to know to whom I ought to apply – 

They asked if I was alone – Then said it was for my own sake they would not grant permission – It was not a fit sight for me to see alone – I expressed my utter ignorance of this, but said would it not be enough to have a police officer with me to protect me against the tread-wheel people, the parcel of felons, as one of the magistrates called them – 

He said the governor would not admit the police officer, for a police officer had no business there – That thinnest and most gentlemanlike magistrate then said I must give my name and address – They were obliged to be particular about admitting strangers – I said I was Miss L– [Lister]. The gentleman asked if any relation to the Ribblesdale family – I answered of the same family originally, but far too distant to be called a relation – 

He said if I would call again tomorrow and bring some respectable man with me, I should have permission to see the tread-mill – I answered I would bring the master of the hotel – Thought I to myself, it is not worth such trouble, but I am determined not to be beaten – Felt a little annoyed at the moment but it soon wore of[f] – 

In returning, strolled almost to the end of High Holborn, then down Chancery Lane, turned into Lincoln's Inn, and walked along-side Lincoln’s Inn garden – Went out at the other end, thro’ Chichester vents into Chancery Lane again – Thence along Fleet to Saint Paul’s, into Saint Martin’s le Grand to see the new post-office – 

The building of the underground story just raised even with the ground – A curious collection of differently sized and shaped compartments – Counted above 50 workmen – probably there were several more – It will be a noble building, fronting in a long line into Saint Martin’s le Grand, close to Newgate Street – 

Then along Cheapside, and down Queen Street in a direct line to the new iron bridge (the Southwark bridge) finished in 1819 – Paid a penny to go up it – Stood gazing from the middle of it (1st 1 side then the other) a minute or 2 – The new London bridge to be on this side (West, of the old one) – 

Having gone just off the bridge into Southwark, was obliged to pay another penny to return again – Along Thames Street into Bridge Street (full of insurance offices), along Fleet Street and the Strand to Piccadilly –

At the end of Thames Street, close to Bridge Street, passed the office of “Mr. Vallance” close to that of “Mr. Dempster,” surely the partner of Mr. James V– [Vallance] Miss V– [Vallance]’s brother – No high situation even for an attorney – 

Walked to the end of Surrey Street and back, in returning along the Strand – Called at Dobson’s, No. 166 Strand – The self pointing pencils 10 /. [shillings] each – Pocket mariners’ compasses from 7 or 8 shillings to 2 or 3 guineas – Wood, the bookseller near Saint Martins in the Strand, recommended by Whitley to give me information about the publishers of the Zoological Journal etc, not at home – 

Found myself in Piccadilly at 3 1/2 – Too soon to come home – Sauntered Pall-Mall East and the new buildings there abouts, then along the new buildings beyond Regent Street, etc. Then walked to No. 1 New Bond Street and Mr. Truefitt cut my hair in 20 minutes, and himself being wanted (by appointment) his head man dressed it in half hour more – In large curls, not low down the face – 

Surprised to find I had only 1/2 crown to pay – He would give Lady’s maids lessons, an hour each lesson for 5 /. [shillings] and 4 lessons might might be enough to teach them to dress a crop – Said Mr. Truefitt, ‘They cannot cut hair so well in Paris as London’; but he believed Monsieur Taileur in the Palace Royal was the best cutter – I was to be careful not to let them cut too much off –

Strolled to the end of (up and down) the Burlington passage (by the Shonbridge in Bond Street only asks 1 1/2 guineas for ladies riding hats) then made the best of my way, got home at 5 35/60 and sat down to dinner at 5 40/60 – 

Gravy  soup and roast beef very good, potatoes and kidney beans, and hot cherry-and-currant tart – and another pint of port – Mr. Webbe brought in the beef – Told him the difficulty about the tread-mill and asked him to go with me tomorrow – He very civilly said he would, with pleasure. As also to the Jew’s synagogue – 

Got a card from Walwyn and Gayford, wine merchants, 7 Old Bond Street and 1 Burlington Arcade – Mr. Webb said it was all a puff – Asked him about Wright in the Haymarket piazzas – Still worse, said Mr. Webb – That man somehow makes it answer to pay £900 a year for advertisements tho’ he never has a customer a 2nd time – 

You can only get good wine from a respectable merchant and must pay the price – Griffith’s Pall-Mall, the best – Could not get good old wine under £3 a dozen gents gentlemen generally cheated in buying wine unless they employed someone who understood it – Griffiths perhaps would not sell such wine as I was now drinking at 60 /. [shillings] (£3., a dozen) but Mr. Webbe had 3 pipes of it, and would let me have some if I chose –

After dinner, [wrote] the whole of this (but the 1st 1/2 lines) of today which took me till 8 – By the way, it struck me this morning from the prices marked in the windows, that one should go to Cheapside for cheap bargains – 

Mr. Webbe recollects Mr. Lawton (Charles). I asked him, having heard from M– [Mariana] that he recollected Mr. Webb – From Mr. W– [Webb]’s description (he knows Ms. Lawtons) it must be C[harles] L[awton]– He was here Mr. W– [Webb] thought 5 years ago, but it might be longer – 

From his habits and manners (up all night in bed all day) Mr. W– [Webb] thought he gambled a great deal, and was rather in a low way – He had a friend here, a Captain Baker, a sad dissipated scamp whom Mr. Webb got out of several scrapes (the watch-house etc) and at last lost £25 by him – 

Very fine day – As warm as yesterday. Fahrenheit 70º at this moment (8 5/60) in my writing desk – Wrote the latter 1/2 page and the 1st 1/2 page 3 of my letters began this morning to my aunt, and wrote a page to M– [Mariana], all which took me till 10 10/60 – 

Went to my room at 10 ¼. E [two dots, treating venereal complaint] O [no dots, marking discharge]

Part 2 of @LaFemmeAd’s Walking Tour covers the stops mentioned on Anne’s outing from today’s entry as well as tomorrow’s from 28 Aug. 1824!

#anne lister #anne lister code breaker #treadmill #coldbath fields prison #Halifax to Paris

[stevenuniversetanzanite]

I made a prompt list out of three other people prompts so I can practice stories.

Links to originals

https://wayfaring----stranger.tumblr.com/post/186040990132/fluff-prompt-list

https://sparklyhyunjinnie.tumblr.com/post/622355495153451008/my-prompt-list-give-me-the-numbers-and-the-idol

https://imnotcreativeenoughtomakegoodurl.tumblr.com/post/186758228060/mmm-love-me-some-casually-aggressive-fluff

Feel free to suggest or use for your own purpose. 

I’m only posting in case people wanted to suggest some otherwise I’ll let google random number generator decide.

Out of: 1-132

1.                  “I really want to kiss you right now”

2.                  “Stay with me.. please?”

3.                  “I am so madly in love with you”

4.                  “As long as I’m alive, I will do everything I can to protect you”

5.                  “I’ve never felt so strongly about someone before. I’m terrified”

6.                  “I can’t stop thinking about you. No matter how hard I try, you’re always on my mind”

7.                  “Don’t go on that date” “Why?” “Because it will kill me if you do”

8.                  “Just say the words, and I’m yours” “I love you”

9.                  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”

10.              “Please tell me you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you”

11.              “Is this okay?” “It’s perfect”

12.              “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you now”

13.              “Seeing you this riled up really makes me want to kiss you”

14.              “Shut up” “Make me”

15.              “You’re the most beautiful person in the room”

16.              “I’ve waited too long to do this”

17.              “Part of me wants to keep the promise I made to myself.. the other half wants to say ‘screw it’” “Which half is winning?” “The latter”

18.              “Why don’t we just stay here a bit longer? In our little cocoon”

19.              “Were you jealous?” “No… maybe…”

20.              “As if I’m going to let go of you that easily”

21.              “okay, but first kiss me.”

22.              “i don’t like the dark”

23.              “can i hold your hand”

24.              “i cant sleep when you’re not beside me

25.              “i’m sorry i cant help but stare”

26.              “will you stay?”

27.              “i promise i won’t let anything bad happen”

28.              “i’m so goddamn in love with you”

29.              “thats my ex, make out with me and make him jealous

30.              “spin the bottle is chiché, i’m in”

31.              “i don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before”

32.              “i know it’s 2am but can we meet up”

33.              “your lips are getting really close to mine”

34.              “shit, how’d you make me blush like this?”

35.              “why do you always call me when i’m on a date?”

36.              “don’t be silly i want to stay up with you”

37.              “Have you ever kissed anyone?’

38.              “I really can’t take it when you cry like that… smile for me, alright? You’re so   pretty when you smile.”

39.              “How do you want to die?”

40.              “I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.”

41.              “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”  

42.              “Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought I should move it so I could see you better.”

43.              “Just trust me”

44.              “Your eyes are so pretty.”

45.              “ive missed this”

46.              “Did you just slap my ass?”

47.              “Sharing is caring, now give me the hoodie!”

48.              “Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?!”

49.              “Give me attention.”

50.              “Do we like…hold hands now?”

51.              “I know I’ve kissed you like, ten times, but just like another ten, please.”

52.              “Don’t be nervous, you can come closer”

53.              “I-I miss your arms around me as I slept, I know it’s embarrassing but you made me feel safe.”

54.              “I have a feeling we should kiss.”“Is that a good feeling or a bad feeling?”

55.              “You’re so soft, if I could ever touch the clouds, this is what they’d feel like.”

56.              “we’re in public, you know”

57.              “either take it off, or I will happily do it for you.”

58.              “This is embarrassing but I had a bad dream and back home when this happens I normally just crawl into bed with my mom or sister but since they’re not here anymore can I sleep with you?”

59.              “are those my hair clips”

60.              “we need to talk about what happened last night”

61.              "You're hiding under that blanket because you're blushing?"

62.              “I’ll fix it.”

63.              “Why are you unbuttoning your pants?”

64.              “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

65.              “You’ve been so bad, haven’t you, baby?”

66.              "The sunset isn't as beautiful as you, my love."

67.              “Quit it or I’ll bite you.”

68.              “I told you to bring a jacket”

69.              “dont cry”

70.              “if I was there, you’d be getting all the cuddles you deserve”

71.              “Did someone say shower time?”

72.              “I had a sex dream about you and honestly I don’t know how to feel about it

73.              “We always share blankets on the couch, im sure sharing a bed isn’t much different.

74.              “How much did you hear?”

75.              “why are you so jealous?”

76.              “you keep a photo of us in your wallet?”

77.              “Bite me” “where”

78.              “and just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?”

79.              “I'm not going anywhere”

80.              “are you sure, once we start I might not be able to stop”

81.              “behave”

82.              “Tell me what you want”

83.              “I cant keep kissing strangers and pretending they're you” 64 - “why don’t you come over here and make me,”

84.              “tell me again”

85.              “Don’t ruin the sofa”

86.              “Prove it”

87.              “If you keep dancing like that I’m going to cum in my pants”

88.              “Stop distracting me”

89.              “Did you just look me up and down and bite your lip?”

90.              “Are you sure that’s what you want, I could hurt you”

91.              “What happens if I do this”

92.              “Why don’t you put something pretty on for me”

93.              “It was you this whole time”

94.              “Is that a tattoo”

95.              “I wonder what your boyfriend/girlfriend would do if they knew what you were doing right now

96.              “No im not letting you go, its too early to get out of bed”

97.              “Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?”

98.              “poor baby, do you want me to take care of it for you?”

99.              “You can pull my hair all you want”

100.          “that tickles,”

101.          “your duality scares me,”

102.          “What do you have behind your back?”

103.          “You snuck into my room to cuddle?”

104.          “Hold my hand please”

105.          “Wait we were supposed to bring presents?”

106.          “I know all of your weaknesses, but this ones new”

107.          “We could go together if you wanted”

108.          “oh my god do that again”

109.          “Do you even know how to load a dishwasher?”

110.          “I have a surprise for you”

111.          “you're so cute when you pout like that”

112.          “we should get a puppy!”

113.          “I never cried over a gift before, but there’s a first for everything”

114.          “was I too rough”

115.          “You’re the one I want, is that so hard to believe?”

116.          “I like the way your hand fits in mine”

117.          “Wait don’t pull away… not yet”

118.          “I love you”

119.          “You cant leave without letting me hug you”

120.          "I probably wouldn't care if you died because then I would just summon Satan to bring you back to life; It's no biggie at all."

121.          "Say you're not worth it one more time, I dare you. I will throw hands with you, I swear to Go-"

122.          "You make me want to punch the sun just by looking at you-But like, in a sorta declaration-of-my-undying-love kinda way."

123.          "Jesus christ, I- It's nothing, I just realized that I would legit eat my kidneys for you. I just love you so much."

124.          "Oh god, if you only knew the things I'd do for you."

125.          "Sometimes I feel like all the love you give is going to make me implode one day."

126.          "You call the shots; I would walk into a volcano with you if you felt like it."

127.          "Here's the thing; there's no way you're stronger than me. I guess you're just gonna hafta miss a couple hours of work and cuddle with me then."

128.          "I will boop your nose as many times as I like, thank you very much!"

129.          "'Aight wanna bet? I will phisically fight you for little spoon rights!"

130.          "You're so cute! I just wanna hug you, and squeeze you, and love you and hold you until the end of time an- Oh sorry, it wasn't supposed to sound that creepy, I swear!"

131.          "You know I would die for you, but for the love of all that is good in this godforesaken world; when I say 'bite me' during an argument it isn't and invitation to get horny."

132.          "Don't be so gentle. You can hug me tighter y'know- I'm not going to pop or anything."

[ryukogo]

i haven’t really been around recently, and that was because i needed some time to recover at least a little from my cat’s death.

he was my first cat - Prince Gavin J. Free the 13th of the Norad Kingdom. he came into my life when my life was achievement hunter and rune factory 4 - and for those who’ve been with me from the beginning, this was a really long time ago - you can probably trace back my first ever post here to being rune factory 4 related. that’s how long he’s been with me.

he died last may 6th. he’d been suffering from feline urinary tract disease. he couldn’t pee. it was all stuck in him. everything was going back to his kidneys and poisoning him. it was slowly killing him.

we thought he’d get better though. we brought him to the vet. he was basically put in intensive care. my dad had told me to be prepared for him to possibly expire or me having to possibly put him down depending on how the doctor interpreted the results. i spent that whole day numb.

but then when we came back for him after a few days, we were told he was getting better! his statistics were improving! i didn’t dare hope further, but... i loved my gavin so much. he was my dearest one. my first. i was asked to make a decision - take him off the IV and let him rest at home, or continue with medication and hope he improves further.

i chose the latter. i thought he was going to get better.

may 5th, i found a significant other. i was delighted. things were going better for me.

may 6th, i received a phone call while making my way to school. he was dead. i didn’t want to go to school. i wanted to grieve. i wanted to curl up in my bed and just die. on the spot. he wasn’t accredited or anything, but he was basically an emotional support cat. he kept me tethered to this reality. he was a large part of my soul.

i couldn’t imagine never seeing him again. never hearing him again.

i was in a daze the whole school day. i tried to play it off whenever anyone told me to take it easy. i made jokes. i made fun of myself. i made light of it. it was the only thing i knew how to do.

i felt so numb.

it’s been two weeks since he’s died. his ashes came home to me a few days ago and i cried all over again. i’m the kind of person who tends to bottle everything up until the bottle shatters or overflows - and it’s overflowing again, so i had to type this out. i can never really empty my bottle. it’s not me. i’ll always be holding myself back.

i miss my gavin. i miss him so much. i haven’t felt this heartbroken in two years.

i just wish i could have him back.

#classo's personal things #personal life #tw death #tw animal death #tw pet death #i just... needed to let this out #vent #i guess?

[minghoy]

Biggest Loser

The office did a 'Biggest Loser' contest the first quarter of 2019, right after Christmas. I caught the tail end of it this month when I re-joined the workforce, people walking around talking loud about how they've lost a kilogram or horrified mumbling about how they've gained a pound—a whole pound!—and today they announced the winners, two teams that collectively lost 9.78% and 7.23% of "body percentage." I think they mean body fat percentage, though I can't be sure. Maybe someone lost a limb. A kidney. Their appendix. Something they won't miss very much but is worth less than the cash the 'Piggy Wiggy Team' won for second place.

That's what they called themselves, The Piggy Wiggy Team. As if joining an office Biggest Loser contest wasn't humiliating enough. Anyone who's over an 18 BMI I've noticed likes to make other people very aware that they're aware they're a little goopier around the waist than they should be. I do it, too. A lot. As if we get points for self-awareness. I think there's this fear of not being in on the joke, and if you're laughing at yourself the same time as everyone else is, then maybe you're less of a punchline. You've got comedic ownership. You know, like, "I meant to do that." I meant to eat all that food. I meant to get this fat.

Anyway, an office Biggest Loser, as if offices aren't toxic enough cesspools in which eating disorders breed like petri dish viruses. Ditto schools. Ditto everywhere else. This is just the world we live in. The setting. Now the plot, the characters: the office Biggest Loser, and the woman I heard purging in the bathroom stall today, a woman on team Piggy Wiggy—beautiful, stylish, overall pretty classy and bougie, well-to-do, and apparently from an old-rich family, one of the five families that were here when this city mushroomed out of the sea.

She's in her mid-thirties. Let's call her Miss L. Miss L's one of the women the younger girls call "titas"—a group of women who torture themselves with keto diets and trendy fasts, who do yoga every other day and have motivational quotes in their cubicles, loud laughs, big hair. They love themselves. They want you to know they love themselves as they gorge on cake, pizza, garlic bread on birthday-month team feeds, and then always have cake in their cubicles for some reason, and they grab at anything that gets passed around the office, free or otherwise, with a hunger that I recognize in myself. So of course it's gross to me. It's horrific. It's like staring at your reflection at the bottom of a deep, dark well.

Our office has this quasi-open workspace thing going on: one wide floor but cubicles and wall-to-wall depression-blue carpet, blank white walls that reflect the depression-blue, and six windows that are never open. Sometimes it gets so loud I can't hear myself think. Even if I put headphones and brown noise on, I can still sense the conversations and the whine of workday stress going on around me, which is like tinnitus but with words. That's when I take my book and sit on the toilet for a while. It's quiet in there, and the people who clean it do a very good job of it, and there's even a nice green plant so it's this oasis of quiet in the middle of the workday if I can't get away from work for more than five minutes. (I get why people have beautiful bathrooms in their homes now. One day I'm going to have a beautiful bathroom with white tiles, a window, and a writing desk.)

I heard Miss L walk in, and then the gagging started, then that chunky, gloopy splash of solid food that's become so familiar and dear to me it sends a frisson of recognition through my spine so strong it makes me want to hurl, too. Except I haven't done that in a month. (There's a sign on my forehead: It's been 27 days since our last episode. This soon changes to 0 days, barely two weeks later, after I ill-advisedly weigh myself on a Friday night while I'm PMS-ing.)

I sit and listen to her purge. I listen to her purge. This woman is purging. I have this really vivid daydream about about kicking the door in and holding her head in the toilet to teach her a tough-love lesson about self-love. I imagine that I'm not sitting here and really I'm the one purging and someone else is listening to me purge. Listening to her purge is making me dissociate, and I can't sit here anymore so I flush the toilet to announce that someone else is there and get up to wash my hands. I wash my hands. She's sitting in there, trying to be quiet. She shuffles her feet.

How many times have I been this woman? I spent a lot of time getting acquainted with the toilets at the last office I worked in. This was at the height of my bulimia, when I was bingeing and purging two, maybe three times a day at work. McDonald's, corner store bread, cookies and milk, the latter so much that I developed a sensitivity to dairy and caffeine, which sucks because I love dairy and caffeine. My cheeks were always swollen. My eyes were always red. I was always in a shit mood. I didn't think anybody noticed, but of course they did, and when I finally told K, an ex-coworker, about what was then my bulimia, she said she guessed that I was doing something like that in there, and that she wasn't sure what to do—if she should talk to me about it or not.

(You can bet she talked about it with other people, though.)

Like most people beset by eating disorders, my complicated relationship with food started when I was very young. My grandmother and my great aunt expressed their love with food, and food shut me up when I was throwing tantrums and being a generally shitty, angry little kid and when I was a shitty, angry teenager. It shuts me up as a shitty, angry young adult, except these days I'm starting to understand that I'm probably trying to fill up a different kind of void. Not that knowing why you do something makes it easier not to do it.

My partner, who in my eyes is the most understanding and intelligent person in the world, doesn't get why people do things that upset them. I wish I had an satisfying answer for why binge eaters binge eat, or why anorexics can't just eat a burger and be okay with it, or why drug addicts keep doing drugs even after they've ruined their lives and alienated themselves from their entire families because of them.

If it were that simple, the economy would crumble. Self-help magnates and motivational speakers would be out of jobs. The diet industry would vanish into thin (ha) air. Every marketer in the world would starve.

The ugly truth is that like most people, and like Miss L, I'm probably always going to be dieting, always going to be trying to lose weight, always going to be unhappy with the way I look, am, feel, etc., and even if I were to recover from my eating disorder I know there'd be times where the angry baby brain-monster tantrums in its cage and kicks up such a fuss it's easier to just give it what it wants rather than to sit there and endure the noise.

I don't know why there are so many of us like this, why we're so dissatisfied with ourselves.

If I were to find a purpose, if I were to find something else to obsess over, something that I cared about more than what I looked like, would I be able to forget about my obsession with food and the way I look? If Miss L, who's a mother and a career woman and in all other aspects successful still hasn't gotten over this obsession with food and looks, do I even stand a chance? Do any of us?

If this were a story I could give it some kind of resolution, or some kind of confrontation that has all the twanging of hope. Miss L and I could lock eyes on our way out of the bathroom stalls, exchanging looks that said, 'I see you. I understand. You're not alone.' In the real world we don't talk to each other unless we need to, and we hardly ever need to, and when I walk past her cubicle I try not to make eye contact because I'm afraid she might see that I know what she's doing when she ducks for another mouthful of the slice of carrot cake she keeps on top of her computer tower. I try not to listen to her talk to the other titas about "gaining all the weight back," and I don't say a word to her unless I need to. I don't make eye contact. I'm afraid she'll see the hunger in me, too.

#eating disorders #weight loss #weight loss competition #office biggest loser #biggest loser #diet culture