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restapesta · 3 years

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23. Don’t you get it? You’re the only one I can be honest with.

Mickey takes being alone with Ian for granted. He really does.

It's quite sad he only realizes that when he's not alone with his ginger life companion—specifically when he's stuck in a moving car with him and fucking Phillip, feeling like a pussy for not having the guts to just open the door and jump out.

Did Ian put child's lock on his door, what the fuck?

He can't do this. It's a fifteen-minute ride to the Gallagher house and Mickey won't be able to survive it. No fucking way. Why did Ian have to say yes to picking Lip up from work? Did he know what hell he would be putting his poor husband through, huh?

If college bitch says something about his shitty delivery job one more time, he swears to God—

"And you know what the best part about this shitty delivery job is?" No. Please, God, make him stop. "Bathroom? Doesn't even fucking exist,"

If Mickey had a gun, he'd stuff it in his mouth.

From the corner of his eye, Mickey sees Ian's gripping the wheel slightly tighter, his knuckles turning white, his tongue bitten between his slightly clenched teeth. Sadly, only Mickey can see him be so frustrated from the passenger seat. He wishes Lip would lean over from the back and see how fucking annoying he really is with his constant babbling.

Maybe it's good he didn't bring a gun with him—Ian looks like he'd wanna stuff it in his mouth, too.

Does he have child's lock on?

"Anyways," Lip breathes out and Mickey focuses on the buzzing of the AC so he wouldn't have to endure the brainwashing his brother-in-law's—why him?—voice is doing.

Ian seems to be thinking the same thing, his eyes rolling discreetly to the back of his head, staying there for a moment or two.

Mickey's torn between telling him to keep his eyes on the goddamn road or just letting him crash their new car into a pole. At least then they wouldn't have to listen to the yapping that's filling every nook and cranny of the fresh interior.

Their car had never seemed so small. Since when is Mickey so claustrophobic? There used to be so much room.

Oh right, Lip's ego is taking up most of it. How could Mickey forget?

"Oh, yeah," He says suddenly, and Ian and Mickey share a look. What now? Will he ever stop? "I meant to ask you about your meds, Ian. You told me you were visiting your doctor or some shit like that."

Mickey reclines back in his seat, lips pursing as he waits for Ian to fill Lip in on the new prescription and its side effects, and whatever other shit Mickey's already got written down in the notes on his phone from when Ian told him in detail about it.

He had been pretty down when he came home from seeing his doctors, listing off all of the shit he was worried about with the new therapy and adjusting to it. He even had a couple of sleepless nights that resulted in him seeking out different pharmacies to buy sleeping pills, which ultimately led to a night of sleepless vomiting because the cocktail of pills didn't really bode well for Ian's stomach.

Mickey doesn't mind reliving it. Doesn't mind listening to his husband talk about the things important to him and things that Mickey should know about.

And, truthfully, Mickey's already come face to face with the fact that he likes knowing about all of Ian's shit—they're already living, sleeping, and working together, so the prospect of knowing that new meds give Ian diarrhea if they're taken on an empty stomach doesn't really seem like a TMI-type of thing to know.

When Ian's related, nothing and everything is pretty much TMI.

"Oh," Ian responds after a moment of silence. His eyes aren't focused when Mickey turns to look at him. It seems as if he's racking his brain around for the proper words, yet can't seem to find them. Eventually, he just lets out, "Everything's the same. Nothing new."

Mickey knows that's not true.

"Didn't you say you were being put on some new shit?" Lip's confused. Mickey is too.

Ian was put on new shit. Shit that landed him with a week of goddamn exhaustion and a fucked-up stomach.

"No. It's the same."

"Oh," Lip mutters. "Okay then."

And he continues to go into another monologue about why being a delivery boy is such a shitty job to have with a mind of his.

Mickey stares at Ian's side profile for as long as it takes him to turn around and meet his eye. It takes him long—in fact, Mickey's pretty sure Ian won't be turning around any time soon.

Why would he lie? Why would he hide the fact he did change his meds when it's really not that big of a deal?

Mickey's even more confused by it because Ian had ranted about his doctor's appointment the day of it, nearly talking Mickey's ear off. He had been annoyed, relieved, and worried, all at the same time, and the entire Tuesday was just spent with them talking about bipolar like the mundane thing it was.

So, why wouldn't Ian just want to retell that shit again? It wasn't as if he didn't still have frustrations over it. Not like he wouldn't fucking jump on the chance to talk about his biggest concerns the second the opportunity presented itself.

Why then?

Lip's still talking and Ian's still not looking at him.

Mickey places a gentle hand on his thigh, trying to get his attention. In response to Mickey's thumb running over his husband's jeans, Ian just places a hand on top of his, picking it up and raising it to his mouth until the rough skin meets the smoothness of his lips. When he finally looks at him, there's a plead in his eye. An answer to Mickey's unasked question.

Later.

"Ugh, can you guys not do that here? Since when did you become that couple?"

They both ignore the dumbass in the backseat of their car. Ian turns to look ahead, and he pushes his foot down visibly on the gas pedal, and Mickey knows that the time until they're able to drop Lip off is cutting shorter.

"You guys are really annoying with that mind-reading shit, you know that?"

Mickey breathes in deeply.

Five more minutes. Just five more minutes and they'll be alone.

Ian's hand doesn't disentangle from his, but Mickey does move them so they're laying on top of his leg, palms pressed tightly together. He squeezes at it once.

Ian squeezes back.

There's a faint mumble from the back.

"I fucking hate being the third wheel."

Mickey barely stops himself from jumping into Ian's lap, just in spite.

Instead, with his free hand, he just flips him off.

---

They're driving to their place when Mickey finally asks the question. They've been alone for a couple of minutes now, after a prolonged—much to both their dismays—goodbye to Lip in front of the Gallagher house. As soon as it was appropriate to, Ian peeled out of the driveway, putting as much distance between him and his family—his annoying-ass brother—as he possibly could in a record time.

At first, Mickey fiddled with the radio until he landed on some radio station that played pop-shit music, lowering the volume until the Taylor Swift song—he hates that he knows it—was just a hum filling the silence. Ian isn't speaking, but he doesn't seem tense.

He seems just as always, shoulders even further relaxed—slumped, actually, because he has the posture of a question mark—now that Lip is out of the car and in the hands of the others to deal with.

"So," Mickey starts casually when his weirdo of a partner starts singing lowly to Lover on the radio. It's a song they only listen to when they're feeling sappier than usual, but Ian tends to always be sappy, so none of this sweet singing shit was a surprise for Mickey. The lyrics coming out of Ian's mouth still make his chest swell pleasantly, despite him barely holding himself back from rolling his eyes. "What was that?"

"Hm?" Ian's eyes momentarily move to eye Mickey. They go back almost immediately. "What was what?"

"What was that thing with Lip?" The question isn't meant to be judgmental nor accusing. Mickey really is just curious.

It wasn't him whom Ian had lied to. But why did he lie in the first place?

Ian shrugs, lowering the volume with the switch on the wheel even further until they can barely hear the soft voice.

"I just didn't feel like telling him." Is the simple reply.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Ian."

"Mickey—"

"Come on, man, don't give me that bullshit."

"I'm not—I don't," He exhales roughly as if finally forcing himself to admit to something he doesn't want to admit to. "I don't like anybody knowing about it. It's nobody's business but my own."

Mickey makes a face, still confused as fuck. He gets the reasoning behind the words, but it's just not clicking in his brain. Maybe Lip really did brainwash it. "You say you don't like anybody knowing, but you told me."

Ian glances away from the road and sends Mickey the type of look that says he thinks what Mickey just said was the dumbest thing possible. It's incredulous.

"You're not anybody, Mick."

And that's sweet and all, but—

"Lip's not anybody either."

Ian sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, dramatically exasperated. "Don't you get it, Mickey? You're the only one I can be honest with. Completely transparent."

Mickey doesn't know why he's still pushing, but fuck, there's no way. "You can be transparent with Lip. He'll hear you out, give you advice. Won't judge you." Why is he defending Lip again? "I'm not the only one who understands."

"Yeah, but you're the only one who isn't annoying about it. If I wanted Lip to know, I would've called him straight away. But instead, I talked to you. Mickey, you're a dumbass if you don't see that you're the only one I want to tell."

Well fuck.

Mickey blinks. He actually is a dumbass, but that's already been genetically proven. This is something else.

Mickey feels Ian's words deep in his chest. His heart jumps to his throat—it's one of the best things Ian could've said to him. It doesn't feel fucking real.

"Really?" He asks pathetically. It's not like Ian would lie; he's always had a knack for saying everything that's on his mind. Mickey loves that about him right now. It's just that—Mickey? He wants to tell Mickey about it and nobody else?

Ian smiles at him. "Really, babe," Mickey blushes as the nickname. "You know just how many questions to ask. When to listen and when to talk. When to give me advice and when to tell me to get out of my own head." Ian's eyebrows furrow. "Lip doesn't know how to do that. Not like you—"

No. Mickey will not cry. No. It's just eyeball sweat.

"—With you, I know that I can say whatever is on my mind and won't feel like shit about it. It's fucking liberating, having somebody like that."

Mickey breathes in deeply. Fuck Ian for using his words like this and making his heart squeeze impossibly. Why is he so fucking perfect all the fucking time?

How did Mickey get so fucking lucky?

"Yeah," He responds dumbly, out of breath—because it legit is logged up in his throat at the moment. He clears it. "I guess that's what best friends are for."

And the grin Ian sends him in response to the sheepishly-said sentence is enough to make butterflies explode inside Mickey's belly—ugh, no, he's supposed to be past that stage, for fuck's sake.

Ian's still grinning as Mickey's whole face probably turns the shade of Ian's favorite vegetable—maybe that's why Ian likes it when Mickey blushes—and he has to avert his gaze so he doesn't go even redder than Ian's hair.

"Best friends? I feel honored, Mick."

"Shut up."

"No, for real."

"Shut up."

Ian laughs and spares Mickey the embarrassment by raising the volume up on the radio, the song now booming loudly through the space.

Ian glances over at Mickey right as he starts singing it joyfully, a wide smile on his face. This is the Ian Mickey knows and loves—happy Ian.

Mickey's favorite Ian after the horny one.

Mickey's chest swells with pride. He ended up with Ian. The Ian who loves him unconditionally; who knows just the right to say and when to say it; who just told him Mickey's the only one he can be real with.

I can only be honest with you, too. He wants to tell him. I only am honest with you.

Instead of saying the words, he starts singing himself, and the screeching voices of two men stupidly in love are seeping out of the slightly opened windows, the wind whooshing them away.

I can only do this with you, Mickey thinks. I'm only this free with you.

Judging by the way Ian's smiling, Mickey guesses he's thinking the same thing, too.

"Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover."

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #*ficlet #i only know about bipolar from thw show so don't hold my word for anything written in this #btw anon hope you have a wonderful day #thank you for the ask!

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daddynegandesires · 3 years

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My little runaway pt. 3

(Summary: after returning back to the sacutuary negan leaves on one of his runs only to come back to an unexpected turn of events.)

⚠Warning: strong language, angst, physical fighting, smut⚠

Mature content

3 days later

Its been days since negan has been out on his run youve been helping out around the sanctuary cleaning and cooking for everyone. You have been letting people slide without using their points for food and other activities. The point system always seemed like a dumb idea to you never seemed fair to have people earn points just for things they desperately needed. Finishing up the dishes in the kitchen you heard everyone in the dining hall go silent. You walked around the corner to see everyone on their knees..negan must have arrived you kept yourself hidden in the kitchen knowing you havent been exactly following by his rules since he has been gone. Quietly finishing putting up the dishes you sneak outside around back moments before negan suddenly bursts outside.

"(Y/n)....where are you!!" Negan began pacing around looking for you when he turned the corner to see you leaning up against the wall

"You!..."

Negan charged up to you grabbing you by the throat slamming you against the wall.

"What is with you!?" You said clearly before getting all of the air stuck from entering into you

Negan began to drag you back inside infront of all saviors throwing you on the floor with a loud thump as your body hit the ground.

" i want everyone to see whos in charge here and its me!! Not her..me...im sorry you guys have to witness this the hard way....but you leave me no other choice..rules are rules!" negan gripped lucille tightly raising her above his head

You were sitting on the concrete floor still trying to comprehend everything that is going on and, in a sudden flash you were struck across the arm. A sharp shooting pain bursted throughout my whole body causing me to scream in agony. Blood was rushing down your arm you covered it with your hand feeling it seep between your fingers. You were now laying on the floor crying infront of everyone feeling humiliated while negan stood there with a nasty grin. He began to get ready to strike you again. The bat slashed across your arm again this time harder and more painful feeling of the barbwire sinking into your flesh ripping it off. You tried to protect your face with your hands before he could get another swing in. Blood now splattered all over negan your screams now filled the building of the sanctuary

"Negan stop!" Dwight stepped infront of negan blocking you

Negans eyes grew black as he realized what dwight was doing. He knew he was getting his fair share of punishment too for stepping up.

"She cant take it.....negan she is your bestfriend she is bleeding out you are going to kill her!" Dwight yelled

Realizing what he had just done negan dropped lucille to the ground everything began to feel like it was in slow-motion and, my head was pounding. Negan pushed Dwight out of the way and scooped you up dripping blood all over his white shirt he rushed you to the doctor they had there. Busting in through the door he placed you down on the operating table the last thing you seen was negan staring back at you before everything went black.

*Nightmare*

"Fuck me harder..." You could feel yourself slowly buckling under him.

With every thrust negan was grunting louder his cock filled you up perfectly. The wetness of your pussy making that sexy sound he loved so much. You had almost forgotten that you were fucking in his and lucilles bed...which made you feel like a peice of shit. Lucille was in the hospital dying from cancer and negan said this was a way to help him "cope". I thought otherwise....

"Fuck you are so tight.....your pussy feels so fucking good" negan moaned biting at your neck slamming into your pussy faster.

You began to drag your nails down his back causing him to grunt out in pain he then grabbed you by the throat squeezing untill you let out small moans. He began fucking you faster you couls feel his cock swelling up inside of you getting him closer to the edge of blowing his load. He took his free hand gently rubbing it over your clit. Your moaning grew louder and louder the faster his fingers went.

"Negan.....how could you!" A faint voice called out.....

*end of Nightmare*

You suddenly woke up in a sweaty panic to only realize you were hooked up to IV monitor's. You began to raise yourself up when a sharp pain beamed through your arm causing you to cry out in pain you looked around the room and spotted negan in the chair beside you slumped over fast asleep. Everything that happended slwoly started coming back to you negan humiliating you infront of everyone and, almost killing you with lucille.

"Your up..." Neagn said in a raspy tired tone

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything to him not after what he just did to you he could have killed you!. All you could do was stare at him you didnt even know who you were staring at anymore all you knew is that you had to get out of here nothing will ever change with him. Ever.

Negan rose up from his seat moving over to the bed sitting down by you he raised up his hand to caress your face which caused you to flinch. His face looked full of guilt and sadness he was struggling to keep eye contact with you. You pushed his hand off of you shooting him a dirty look.

"I need you to leave....now" you spoke through gritted teeth turning your face away from him.

"I dont want anything to do with you ever again!!..im done with you..now get out!" A fire grew inside of you, your voice full of rage there was no other choice but to distance yourself from this moster. Negans face twitched at the words that had just came out of your mouth he looked at you one last time before stading up to grab Lucille. It felt like there was a knot in your throat it was hard for you to do this but it had to end this way.

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

Its been weeks since me and negan have spoke let alone make eye contact with eachother. Ive been getting along with everyone nicely in the sanctuary even have been going on a few supply runs, not with negan course. My arm was almost fully healed but im left with an eye sore of a scar i have to deal with for the rest of my life. I cant forgive negan for what he did to me he went to far this time i can no longer put my trust in him. My night terrors have been increasingly bad lately i always end up tossing and turning all night. Dwight and i have actually been getting along with eachother and working as a team he has been keeping in touch with rick for me. Dwight isnt so fond of negan anymore either hes been sneaking around behind negans back giving information to Daryl.

I was in my room getting dressed when there was a sudden knock on my door it was dwight.

"Hey...how you doing?" He walked in leaving the door open behind him

"Im okay. Whats up?" I questioned, while sliding a knife into my belt loop

"Im not sure how to say this but we have to go on a run today wit-"

"Okay? Thats fine with me" i cut him off mid scentence while sliding on my leather jacket

"With negan..." He finished.

You took a deep breath in and ruffled your hair with your fingers annoyingly before letting your hands fall on your thighs causing it to make a slapping sound. Dwight stood there staring at the ground nervously waiting for you to respond.

"Okay then..." Letting out a deep sigh as much as you didnt want to be around negan you really didnt have any other choice right now. You and dwight left your room only to bump yourself into negan causing you both to grunt you just pushed right past him not saying anything making your way out to the truck ready to leave. Negan walks outside up to the truck you can hear him faintly whispering to someone. The door flings open and with one swift motion negan plops down in his seat slamming the door shut. You could feel negans eyes on you from the rearview mirror. Dwight hopped in the driver seat and drove off causing for an awkward silence untill we reached our destination.

"I gotcha.." Dwight said holding out his hand to help you out of the truck

All you could do was keep quiet and take the offer dwight was giving, negan as usual was standing there with a cocked smile ready at any moment to say some smartass bullshit. The three of us began to walk off when we came up on a pharmacy the windows were untouched, no broken glass all of the shelves look fully stocked Negan walked in tapping lucille on the counter giving warning to any walkers that could be inside. I followed behind him heading straight over to the medicine filling my bag up. All negan could do was walk around while watching me and dwight stock up on everything we needed.

"This place is a gold mine....untouched" negan said pacing back and forth

You were watching Negan gaze out of the front window of the building when we heard a yell come from the backroom we all quickly ran back there it was a man getting eaten by a walker, ripping his flesh off of his bones peice by peice.

"Put him out of his misery what are you waiting for!!?" You panicked yelling at negan

"Dwight ..." Negan said in a low tone

"You fucking coward!" You quickly pulled your gun out of your pocket pulling the trigger putting a bullet in the poor mans skull

"Wow....fiesty..." Negan said licking his bottom lip

"You fucking disgust me!...you are pathetic!!" You shoved your gun back into your pocket marching up to negan

"Dont excite me now darlin.." He let out a dirty grin slicking his hair back with his free hand

"Im so fucking tired of you...you act like you are the greatest man alive. You are a cheater! And a liar! Thats all you ever will be lucille would of never wanted this!" you screamed in his face before marching back to the truck. Negan and dwight came out to the truck shortly while gathering up the rest of the supplies. All you could do was sit with your arms crossed and a bitchy look on your face. Negan kept glacing at you out of the corner of his eye as if he had to keep watch over you.

When you arrived back at the sanctuary you rushed out of the truck storming off to your room slamming the door shut behind you. You were rumaging through the cabnets hoping to find a bottle of alcohol to calm yourself down with. The thoughts just kept floading through your head the night lucille died...you couldnt get negan cheating on her out of your mind you felt so guily so, disgusted with yourself...you were her bestfriend and you were fucking her husband. Grabbing ahold of the glass filled with dark brown alcohol you popped the lid off bringing it up to your lips. The smell of it almost stinging your nose, swallowing the alcohol it burned your throat a feeling you havent felt inawhile. Tears were streaming down your face as you slide down the wall behind you chugging down your drink. I just want to forget everything...

#negan x lucille #negan x you #negan #the walking dead negan #twd

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studying-with-adult-adhd · 3 years

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I’m so happy to have found you! I actually just got diagnosed with adult add (inattentive type). Procrastinating and finishing tasks once they get complicated has been awful for me. I’ll be starting on Vyvance tomorrow. Do you have any advice for being on this medication? I know I need to watch my bp and avoid/limit alcohol. I read that caffeine and vitamin c can also interfere with the medication too...I’d really appreciate any tips or info that you can share! Thanks 💗

Okay hi nonny! I'm sorry it took me a bit here and that you've already started your meds.

Please keep in mind I'm not a doctor and if you have any concerns about what to look for on the medication, you should speak to your medical professional and a pharmacist.

That being said, I only have to watch my blood pressure closely because I already had high BP. I am also at a higher risk for heart issues and BP issues because of my weight, diet, and family history. My dad has an enlarged heart, super high BP, and type 2 diabetes. My maternal Grandpa has high BP and had a mini stroke not too long ago. My dad is also adopted and we know nothing about his birth family or their medical history so there are lots of factors playing into it.

Unless you are at a high risk or already have issues with your BP, I wouldn't just go out and buy a BP machine. Just check it at your pharmacy once in a while and keep a journal.

As for the alcohol, it doesn't really affect the medication, however you might feel that the alcohol hits you faster. I wasn't a light weight before starting the meds, and now, I can't have one drink without feeling it.

The things about caffeine and vitamin C are bullshit. The only thing that Caffeine could possibly, is make you shaky and anxious. It's the same as usual with the caffeine. I drink energy drinks a lot and they don't interact with the medications. Again, ask your pharmacist too just to be sure!

When it comes to the vitamin C, most of the time people are talking about the citric acid in it. A lot of times, the citric acid can cancel out some medications. This is seen commonly in the birth control pills, as well as plan B.

Personally, I haven't found an issue with that yet but I also don't drink a lot of juice. I would ask your doctor or pharmacist just to be on the safe side though.

Now, where I am the highest dose is 70mg once per day. I am on 60mg once per day. I will tell you to NEVER stop this medication cold turkey. It is an amphetamine and can cause withdrawal symptoms if stopped suddenly.

As for other side effects there are a few. Some get worse with higher doses, and keep in mind that you might have a different experience than me.

For me, dry mouth is a huge thing. Drink lots of water (or liquids in general, yes even pop or coffee, not alcohol though). There is also mouthwash that you can get that helps with dry mouth if you feel it is bad enough.

Another one is the appetite suppression. Vyvanse can also be used to treat Binge Eating Disorder. I find that once my medication kicks in, I don't feel hunger. I try to eat right after I take my meds or at some point about halfway through the day. I also snack a lot. I eat when I'm bored or emotional so, for me, it's a blessing. I reccomend keeping easy snacks with you at all times. I like fruit snacks. Or nuts. Then I can just open and go, no waiting and I keep some in my bags as well as at my desk at home and in my cupboards.

I also have a hard time sleeping. I have found that if I take my meds too late, I am up forever. Try to take your meds at the same time every day, though you can change it around if need be. For instance, my psychiatrist told me that if I had school one day, which started at 4:30pm, I could take my meds at whatever time I felt it necessary to last the entire 3 hour class. Then if I had a psych appointment in the morning the next day, it was safe for me to take the meds earlier.

Vyvanse only lasts 24hours in your body. It is a medication that can be metabolised fairly quickly. You should feel almost instant effects, after giving it about an hour or so to kick in. Now, your dose might have to be changed but that's okay.

The other thing that I experience is the crash at the end of the day. I crash hard off my meds. It puts me in a bad mood and I get really emotional and tired and bitchy. I find it harder to control my emotions for at least an hour or so after I start coming down from the meds. I just like to sit and play a game or talk if needed. My boyfriend is amazing and will just kinda leave me alone once he realizes that I'm coming down.

If this is your first time taking meds for AD(H)D, don't get discouraged if it doesn't work for you. There are many different medications and even ones that aren't stimulants. Please also keep in mind that meds aren't meant to be a permanent fix. They are supposed to allow your brain to find some calm to hopefully help you be able to come up with systems and coping mechanisms that work for you. Although, if you end up being on meds for a long time, don't be ashamed about that either.

And if anyone ever tells you that you shouldn't need meds, or that the meds turn you into a zombie or zap you of your personality, hit them. Okay, don't do that but ya know. If meds do that to a person, they usually aren't working for what it is meant to.

My psychiatrist also told me that if I felt euphoric and high on these meds, that I more than likely didn't have ADHD. Again, keep a journal of symptoms and experiences you have. Even good ones! That way you can also track your progress.

Good luck my dear!

#adhd #adult adhd #adhd problems #school #adhd post #adhd stuff #mental health #actually adhd #adhd brain #adhd meds #ask #answered

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btswishes · 4 years

Text

What we were and what we are

One Shot/ Random

A/N: Take it as an emotional dump. I will put a keep readying line since I don’t think anyone would want to read this. XD Have fun anyways if you wish to stay friend. Who knows maybe it could be a Yoongi x Reader , friends to lovers story, idk.

Word count: 2,535

Playlist recommended for this : Jin-Epiphany Big Bang- Loser Big Bang- Blue at the end you can try BTS- We Are Bulletproof The Eternal

Warnings: dark, anxiety, talk of trauma , be yourself please

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

The sky was covered with soft cotton candy like clouds, tinted in the colors of the ending day. Oranges, reds, blues, yellows, you name it it was there. The wind was warm and but a whispering tender sensation over your exposed skin. The grass pillowing your body under the roughly placed cover, as your head moved up and down by Yoongi’s breath. Laying onto him felt like a antidepressant pill to you.Time had stopped. He was leaning onto his left arm as you both were looking up at the sky. His free hand from time to time brushing over your hair.

“Your mom is calling.” he said taking a glance at your lit up phone screen

“Leave it.” you didn’t even use all the breath in your lungs with this sentence.

“Shouldn’t you pick up tho? I mean she is your mom.” Yoongi’s eyes now focused onto you

“Nah man, she is probably mad at me for something. My mom or not, good or shitty relationship, no matter how much parents say ‘i understand you’ or ‘i was your age once too’ .It never works, telling them anything ends up being a pain in the ass later. Asking for help when you fuck up is the same.” you tried following a lonely cloud with the corner of your eye

“I guess them not accepting that something is wrong with their kids is a defense mechanism.”

“That fucks us up tho. Just because they want to lie to themselves to feel better, leaves their kids untreated and undiagnosed ,messing them up. Years of being bullied and not knowing why, can’t study even if they try, can’t be themselves. Such an easy solution, yet such a hard choice to make to take the first step.” you sighed as you spoke out, a bit of disappointment mixed in with your breath.

“Ha ha ha.” Yoongi laughed under his nose before laying back down

“The fuck did I say?” you cut him off, thinking the giggle was a bit displaced in this talk

“And when you take the first step? What then? The so called professionals lie to us too, give us chemistry and tell us all will be ok as they turn us into addicts to fake serotonin. Psychologists? The word comes from Greek meaning the study of the soul, yet those assholes look at us as bags of meat that you can stuff with pills. Yet we would do anything to get that drop of calmness, that feeling of being a bit happy for being alive right now. And when the effect passes? You want more and more, pill after pill, pharmacy after pharmacy. What difference is there between us people with anxiety and disorders and drug addicts? The medical degree probably.”

You smirked after his last words “ Not all doctors are bad, but you can feel how genuine they are, the rest are health merchants. I don’t think there was a difference in the first place. Drugs, alcohol, smoking fuck it, even sex, man. It’s all to fill that void with dopamine, serotonin and all the bio crap.”

“Isn’t that chemistry tho?”

“We learned it in biology class so it’s bio to me. Do I look like a professor to you?” you rolled over and flicked his nose earning a ‘yah!’ “Hey.”

“Wasup?” Yoongi pulled his hand from under his head and spread his arms wide like a star in the vast sky.

“You know that thing where people ask you, if you saw your younger self in front of you right now and they were having the same feelings as you. What would you do?”

“I don’t know honestly, probably give the little guy a hug and some money ,or buy him something to eat. Someone out there for sure has it shittier than me, but I guess one of my mistakes was to undervalue my own emotions and mental state. Fuck, i got myself in such a hole. When people say ‘after you hit the bottom there is no where more to go but up’ , honestly that is straight up crap and bullshit. Some of us keep clawing and digging fearing that there is more to come. “

“Ah.” a memory popped up in your head on it’s own “That shit hole. Yeah, either you lose yourself laying there with bloody fingernails and hands, or you start crawling back up like a bug. You know, the blood is gonna stain the walls so next time you fall you will remember and catch yourself...if you make it that far.” lifting your hand, you covered a bit of the sky with it, noticing the colors around it “What about the times we reach out but no one grabs on?”

“Fuck! Y/N! We were supposed to have a nice walk in the park not a whole ass depressing talk session!” Yoongi hissed out, unlike his words his voice wasn’t angry

“Oh come on, you know that somehow we always end up talking about this shit.We are both broken pieces, but I think that isn’t bad at all.” you felt his breath stop under you for a split second “I feel like that is why we fit so well together.”

“Oh for real?” he asked a bit surprised by your words “I always thought it was because we were both hella toxic.” you swung your hand and hit him in the stomach “OOF!” he folded in half, sending you sitting up “I forgot how aggressive you were too.” Yoongi’s voice was coming from between his teeth.

“I am serious! I feel like we went through our hard times and learned to manage, that is why we can talk about all these things like this.”

“Makes sense, we were each other’s shoulder. You start falling, I pull on you and the other way around.”

You noticed the contagious smirk on his face that mirrored onto you almost instantly “We fall together, we crawl back up together. Damn we sound inspirational.”

“I told you! We should make one of those vlog channels where people wake up at 5 am looking like damn models, meditate and finish all their work before 11am.” throwing your body back you fell onto the cover, but Yoongi didn’t join you. He staid sitting, letting you focus on his back as he continued “You know we are losers, right?”

“The biggest losers out there.”

He looked towards the sky letting the wind play with his hair, when suddenly you both burst out laughing. Your voices were so loud the birds flew away. “Yeah, we are.”

“Honestly tho Yoongs. Why did we care so much what people thought of us? I mean sometimes I still do but-”

“Same, same.”

“Don’t cut me off stupid!” you kicked him a bit “As I was saying!” you emphasized on ‘saying’ ,when he pinched your leg in retaliation a couple of times “Body types, dudes, girls, genderfluid or no gender at all. Being cute or stylish, pretty or ugly, was a mad waste of time. The nerd is gonna probably become rich, the ugly people will end up becoming better lookin that those basic Karens. I swear, even with all that bulling and people wanting be to be the top. With or without them the Earth keeps spinning .”

“Did you just discriminate flat earth people!?” he gasped cartoonish “Y/N, i didn’t know you were this type of person.”

“Yah! You really out here trying to cancel your best friend, Min Yoongi!”

“You don’t need me to do that, you already do it yourself with the stuff you say.”

“Says you, loser.” your words made him lean onto his elbow next to you, eyes focused on your face as the colors of the sky began fading over your bodies and skin

“I like that word, loser.” he said “It sounds rude, but at the same time no one calls you that if you aren’t different. Different means unique, special. Who tf would want to be the same as others?”

“That was us too stupid, back then.” Yoongi pocked your cheek a couple of times gently

“Yeah, but it’s not back then anymore Y/N. It’s now. We grew up. With our jaw and fist clenched we fought and made it here. They shot at us, they threw rocks and called us cowards, weirdos. But we made it through the darkness. After all that we are and will forever be bulletproof.” the sudden rustle of the grass under you two signaled him getting up and spinning, hands to the side. His head leaned back and he looked so happy. Yoongi’s eyes were closed, he could fall and not even notice, but he wasn’t afraid no more. Whatever happens will happen.

“You make us sound hella dope man. I love it.”

“Anxiety, social issues, any kind of mental problems and disorders. They level us up, as long as we try. At the end of the day you lose something to win something.”

“The end of the chapter is the beginning of the next.” you began to notice he was starting to lose balance from all that spinning around “Hey stupid, you will fall and hurt yourself like th-” you couldn’t even finish the sentence when his legs tangled up and he fell onto you “You ok?!That was such a stupid move! Open your eyes next time!”

“Why?” he became serious, his eyes looking into yours. Yoongi crooked his head to the side,as his fingers caressed your cheek “If I was looking I would have been too afraid to fall. At the end of it all i ended up failing and found a little angel. See? Win win to me. You can’t always see where you are going, but you gotta believe that good things are on the other side.”

“You are bleeding, that is what is on this side.”

“I am WHAT!” his forehead was a bit scratched “Damn it! My handsome face!”

“Oh come on! Wait till I glow up like that! I will get the best looking SO out there.” the child in you was pouting at Yoongi

“You know damn well we are too messed up for a relationship with others. We try and try, get used and then we either lose interest, or fall completely out of love for months. By the way...” his fingers found your cheek again, but this time it wasn’t a gentle poke but a sharp pinch. Your hands flew in the direction of his arm to try and make him let go of you. “Who told you you don’t look good?”

“Ow ow Yoongi! Let me go!!!”

“Not until you tell me who said all that crap to you!?” prying yourself from his grip you continued rubbing the now red and warm spot

“People i liked or others in general. You know how shit goes.”

“You for real need to get your eyes checked! People stare at you when you walk by cus you look TOO good.” his words were like a low growl of a jealous pet

“Nah man, they are either judging me or they want to fight me. There is no middle ground here.”

“You really!” with all the power in his hand he flicked your forehead

“Stop inflicting me wounds!”

“Then stop talking shit about yourself! I swear your bodydismorphia needs to join Jimin when he has talk sessions about his day with Hoseok.Plus, people do stare at you when you walk in town in the attracted way. On our way here at least 5 people turned back and continued looking.”

“Ew creepy!” you said “Why do you count them!”

“You little!!!Come here!” your neck found itself in a chokehold in a matter of seconds

“HYUNG!”Jungkook’s voice echoed through the park reaching your direction “Y/N AND YOONGI ARE BEING THE DEPRESSED AND FLIRTY AGAIN!”

“This kid I swear I will kill him some time soon!” you hissed at Jungkook

“You two really can’t drop this habit.” the slow and calm footsteps pulled your attention and soon subsided your anger

“Joon, you know how we are.” you added, leaning back onto you elbows

“I know, we are all like that.” Joon looked at you two sitting on the ground

“Y/N is right, broken pieces do find each other.” Yoongi added, but Joon sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He squatted down eye level

“Broken pieces find each other because they fit together and make a beautiful new bottle that they can fill up with happy memories. Our sad and hard pasts make us titanium that can’t be broken. Even if one of us cracks, we are all going to help him become stronger.” he reached his hand out, standing up “ You are not alone Y/N, we are going to be forever titanium. You have us and we have you now. We are not lonely or misérables with you.”

“WE ARE BULLETPROOF GUYS!” Jungkook yelled out again

“Yeah...we are.” with a smile shining brighter than ever ,you grabbed Joon’s hand.He pulled you up as you were holding onto Yoongi. When the chain starts no one can cut the bond. We pull each other up...is what you realized.

“Oh and.”

“Yes Joons?”

“Can you two date already or at least go out on a date. It hurts looking at yall like this.”

“What!?” the blanket in your hand turned into weapon as you began hitting him with it in a moment of panic. His words hit a nerve.Yoongi wasn’t the one to rush or to run. With his hands in his pockets he followed you down the hill. His footsteps stopped for a moment to look at the now dark sky.

We may not be able to see the stars during the day, but at night they are too many to even count. Nothing is truly hidden forever, even who you are meant to be. It’s ok not to know now or later. When we are young we dont really know. We try to fit in a mold that was created, but we can’t, we just can’t no matter how much we try.

We end up being labeled by the things we are different. Some come from a darker past, others don’t. Yet everyone is important, the way they feel, their emotions and inner state. If I could, I would grab your hand and show you a bit of the future. Think of this, your future self, the one that did it all finally and continues to dream big, is looking at you through memories. They grab your hand and push you forward towards the good. The tunnel may be dark, cold, lonesome and scary but it always leads to something. Just don’t give up.

Regret, unsuccessful love, residual feelings for someone who used you. They are all a stepping stone, don’t look at them. Now you know what not to do, EXP( experience points) come in many forms honey. Be who you want to be, life is yours. Be the main character in your story, not anyone else’s. Even if you fall sometimes, show everyone how amazing you are by standing up. Baby steps turn into miles, whispers become yelling, crawling becomes flying. Breaking the mold becomes you.

#bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts text #bts texts #bts text scenario #bts text scenarios #bangtan scenario #bangtan scenarios #bangtan text scenarios #bangtan text scenario #bts x you #bts x reader #bangtan boys scenarios #bangtan boys fanfic #bangtan boys scenario #bts and you #bts with you #be yourself

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pink-peony-princess · 4 years

Text

I'm your brother it's what I do!

"Willow, dinner!" Mum called up the stairs. I sighed slowly sitting up on my bed, trying to ignore the dull ache coming from my side and left wrist.

This was the part of the day that I was dreading the most- having to face my brother Shawn. I knew he'd freak out.

The bullying had been going on for months now, and I had been beaten up a few times, but nothing too serious, until today. I'd told Mum and she'd spoken to the school, but they were more concerned with protecting their reputation than their students, and while that made my parents furious they didn't exactly have the funds to just switch schools.

"How was your day?" I asked my brother as I sat down at the table across from him. This was a rare luxury, getting to see him for dinner at home. Shawn was a doctor at a 24hour clinic 30 minutes from here, having gone through an advanced med program in junior and senior year and then onto residency. Now he was moved out into his own place. He loved his place and his work more than anything and he could probably write a book with the stuff he saw on a daily basis. But I missed him, more than anything. We were 5 years apart, but we'd always been close and even now at 17, I relied heavily on him for support- he was my person the only one in the world that I felt like truly understood me.

"It was good. Had a kid with a bead up his nose," he shrugged, before shovelling food into his mouth clearly unfazed.

The rest of dinner was quiet, Mum and Dad discussing their plans for the weekend, Shawn continuing to shovel food down- he was always hungry, and me, pushing my own food around my plate, trying to ignore the throbbing pain of my side that was only getting worse.

"Are you okay Willow?" my mum asked, eyeing me carefully when she realised I still hadn't really taken a bite 20 minutes later.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired, I brushed her off, going she'd believe me. "Will you excuse me, I just need to go to the bathroom."

She nodded and I got up making my way to the bathroom. I pulled my shirt up and inspected my aching side. It was black in some places now, worse than this afternoon.

"What is that?" I jumped at the sound of Shawn's voice behind me, I dropped my shirt, spinning around to face him.

"Shawn what are you doing in here?" I spun, tugging my shirt down, panicked.

"I was coming to wash my hands," he answered. "Now stop obfuscating." He stepped forward, his hand coming to pull my shirt up again.

"I fell," I answered, hoping he would buy it, but knowing he wouldn't.

"You and i both know that's bullshit," he scoffed, his harsh tone taking me by surprise.

"You know what Shawn just leave me I can deal with it in my own!" I spat, "It's not like you can change it anyway." I turned away from the mirror, trying to hide my face.

"Wills, what happened?" he asked again, his tone, softer this time, as he reached to bring me into a soft hug.

"Girls at school," I chocked, trying to hold back tears. "It hurts so bad Shawnie," I whispered, the tears escaping.

"Oh princess," he sighed, pulling me into his side again.

"Owwww."

"Sorry hon, let me see," he spoke. As much as I didn't want to I knew I didn't have a choice.

"Holy shit," he let out a low whistle. "When did this happen?" he asked, taking in the swollen, red and bruised skin over my rib cage.

"Lunch," I sniffled.

"I'm taking you into the clinic." he turned from the room, pulling his phone out and dialling a number in a rush.

"Shawn," I whined.

"No Willow, this bruising is bad, and I can hear that you're breathing is laboured, it hurts to breathe doesn't it."

I whimpered, giving the answer away.

"F*ck!" he cursed out, rubbing his face.

"Please don't be mad," I cried.

"On no baby, I'm not mad at you, I promise," he soothed, guiding me from the room quickly, but carefully. "Mum did you know about this?" he asked, pulling my shirt up again to show my mum.

Her face dropped.

"Again Willow?" My shoulders shook as I cried only making the pain worse.

"I'm taking her to the clinic. She needs x-rays and pain relief, she could have punched a lung." It was clear from his tone that he was telling her out of courtesy, not out of nessesity.

"Mum?" I begged, pleading with her to step in, she knew how I hated going to the doctor's. Ironic considering my own brother was one.

"Go with your brother, baby, let him take care of you."

Half an hour and one silent car ride later we were pulling into Shawn's work.

"Easy Princess," he spoke, helping me out of the car, as I struggled to the ground.

"Are you mad?" I asked, not daring to look at him as we made our way slowly inside.

"Yes," he sighed, "But not at you," he squeezed my hand, leading me through the double doors.

"Dr. Mendes,". It still felt weird to hear people refer to my brother as that.

"I need a room now," he spoke urgently. "This is my sister." he added for emphasis.

"Oh my," the receptionist spoke rushing around the counter.

"Room three is free, " she told Shawn, he wasted no time hurrying me down the hallway.

"Hop up on the bed for me Willow?" he asked, as he went to wash his hands and pull on a pair of gloves.

"I'm scared Shawn," I mumbled as he came to stand in from of me.

"There's no need to be," he smiled reassuringly. "I'll tell you everything I'm doing, how about that."

I nodded greatful.

"I'm going to pull up your shirt and have a feel of your ribs okay, can you lie down for me?" he spoke, keeping his word.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, poking around. It was okay, until he hit a section in the middle of the bruise, a sharp ache, eminating from that spot immediately.

"Sorry, Willow, I'm sorry," he apologized as I instinctively recoiled from his touch, tears starting to form.

"S'okay," I mumbled, trying to relax again.

"So I'd like to get an x-ray, to check for breaks," he explained, helping me to sit up again. "But in the meantime how about we deal with your other injuries."

"I looked at him inquisitively, I hadn't mentioned anything about other injuries.

"Come on Willow, I'm a doctor, this isn't my first rodeo, besides, your hoodie sleeve fell down at dinner and a caught a glimpse of what looked like gravel rash. Plus, I highly doubt that if they hurt you enough to potentially crack your ribs, that that would be the only injury you'd sustain." he looked at me knowingly, waiting for me to response.

He had me pinned, I knew it and he knew it.

I sighed giving in and pushing back my left hoodie sleeve exposing the nasty gavel rash that stung when the air hit it.

"This has to be some of the worst I've seen," he admitted, turning my arm carefully to inspect it.

"You're not making me feel any better," I grumbled trying to pull my arm away, but he continued to inspect it, not releasing it.

"Willow, this still has pieces of dirt and gravel in it," he spoke shaking his head. He let me go finally heading over to one of the many cupboards the room had and pulling out several things including a kidney dish, a syringe, two small bottles of what looked like iodised water and antiseptic and some bandages.

"I'm going to have to get the gravel out and flush it, it'll get infected otherwise," he explained, bringing all the stuff over to sit it on the bed next to me.

"Will it hurt?" I asked worried as he sat down on a rolling stool on front of me and positioned my arm where he needed it.

"It might sting a bit," he allowed, "but if I don't do this you WILL end up with an inflection and trust me that will hurt more."

I bit my lip nervously. "Okay," I agreed finally, but my voice wavered giving me away.

"You don't have to be brave Willow," he murmured looking up at me from where he was working to pull the tiny bits of gravel from my arm, me hissing and jumping occasionally. "It's okay to cry." I knew he wasn't just talking about my fear, But everything that had happened to land me here.

"Would you like me to get Cami to come in and hold your hand?" he asked referring to his nurses assistant that I'd gotten to know really well over the last two years.

"Please," I sobbed finally cracking.

"Stay here," he told me, handing me a tissue and patting me on my good arm before leaving the room pulling the door to.

Moments later the door opened again and Shawn was back, Cami in tow.

"Oh Willow, honey," she rushed over to me, giving me a very gentle hug.

She sat with me as Shawn finished pulling bits out and irrigated the wound before wrapping it and pacing an ice-pack on it to help with the pain.

We only had to wait another 10 minutes before x-ray was free, a process that didn't take long.

"You're not going back to that school," he grumbled, returning to the room a short while later and sticking the films on the light board. "See here," he pointed to a barely visible line on two of my ribs. They're cracks. Those girls literally broke your ribs. So I don't care what mum says you're coming to stay with me and you'll finish up school at the local college. It's only a 5 minute walk from my place."

Once he'd finished everything he needed to do and we'd stopped by the pharmacy to get me some painkillers we got back into his jeep. I was so tired now, I just wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep, unfortunately my ribs wouldn't let me.

"I've sent mum a text to let her now you're staying with me," Shawn murmured looking over at me as he drove.

"And my stuff?" I stiffled a yawn."

"We'll go back for it in a few days when you're more mobile. If you hit that leaver there the seat will recline so you can nap till we get home," he added as we stopped at a traffic light.

I did what he said and was instantly more comfortable.

"Thanks Shawn," I mumbled softly as I shut my eyes.

"I'm your brother, it's what I do," he smiled, holding his hand out for me to take. "I love you Willow."

"Love you too," I slurred already halfway to dreamland.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagines #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes blurb #doctor!shawn #mendes triplets #werewolf!shawn

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kenzieam · 4 years

Text

I Never Stopped - Chapter Three

Rating: M (smut, language, angst and sorrow)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @empress-of-boujee @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @angryschnauzer @wowspideyholland @smilexcaptainx @chook007 @laketaj24 @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @brujademente @shirukitsune @lostinspace33 @booksteaandarainyday @averyrogers83

If you want off this list, send me a DM and if I forgot you… I’m sorry

Thank you, my lovelies, for your kind words and support XOXO

*****************************************************************************

Okay.... I know it’s been MONTHS since I updated most of my stories, but I’m making an effort to go back and work on my unfinished ramblings, so please consider reading this newest offering....

Also, since it’s been so long, feel free to catch up here- Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two

****************************************************************************

“He blames himself Levi... for you being abducted.”

Levi could only stare at him for a moment, completely dumbstruck. “Why the fuck would he think that?”

Steve didn’t answer, shaking his head and looking away. “I thought we were over that, you coming back must have triggered it again.”

“Goddammit Steve, explain what you mean!” Levi’s pulse was an uncomfortable tattoo in her ears, her skin beginning to feel slick with uneasy sweat. Why would Bucky think that? Had someone blamed him? Is this why he keeps himself distant, some twisted guilt?

Steve sighed, rubbing his mouth in a gesture Levi was learning meant he was particularly distressed. “He... both of us felt responsible for you disappearing, we were supposed to be watching you-”

“We were just kids! It was a freak accident!” Levi was gobsmacked, not once since she’d learned the truth about her past had she ever considered blaming anyone but her supposed parents, her captors. “Tell me that’s not true, did someone say something? Who would blame little kids?”

Steve looked down and Levi reached for him, cupping his face to force him to look at her. She pleaded with her eyes for him to speak, to deny the painful suggestion. He only shook his head sadly.

“I don’t blame either one of you. It never even occurred to me... God, that’s been his problem?” Levi’s voice cracked, pain seeping into her heart. Jesus, what a burden to carry. "Steve, look at me.” She waited until his red-rimmed eyes met hers again. “I don’t blame you, or Bucky. I never have. Please believe me. Please let that go.”

Steve shuddered suddenly, as if the guilt Levi hadn’t even known he was carrying was a physical weight her words just lifted. “Thank you.” He finally murmured, turning his head to kiss her palm; then he took a deep breath. “I thought he had already, he hasn’t brought it up for years; shit, we used to tear ourselves apart when we drank, falling down that rabbit-hole of ‘what-ifs’ and ‘if only’s’...... I’ve been so goddamn happy to have you back kid, I hadn’t even thought of it.”

“I need to talk to him.”

Steve nodded slowly, wiping at his eyes. “I can ask him, but Buck’s stubborn; I mean, look how he’s been so far... I’m such an asshole, I believed his ‘just tired, brother’ bullshit. Didn’t even try to get it out of him.” Suddenly he was pulling away, reaching for his phone. His fingers flew over the screen then he pressed it to his ear, brow furrowed.

“Buck, yeah brother, listen-” He broke off, frowning. “What? For how long?” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “Okay, but when you get back, we need to talk. Levi wants to talk.” He bit his lip. “No, you have to Buck, she knows. Yeah. Okay, call me later.” Dropping the phone Steve looked back up and sighed. “He’s taking a few days off, apparently he left a few hours ago. He’s gone to visit his sister in Baltimore, said he’ll be back in a week or so.”

Levi huffed an exasperated breath. She wanted to clear this up now, but she knew that shit like this couldn’t be hashed out over the phone either.

Steve shot her a strained smile, he saw the pain in Levi’s eyes and wondered how he’d missed the draw and energy between his sister and best friend before; but he wouldn’t add to her distress by revealing just how badly Bucky had blamed himself, punished himself in the past.

“Eat your ramen.” He finally offered.

************************************************************************

“Christ, this is ugly,” Levi grumbled, taking an experimental step forward. “But it’s great to walk again.”

Steve smirked at her, holding out Levi’s crutches, but knowing already that it was useless to offer them to her, now that she was wearing said ugly, clunky, black air boot.

“Get those away from me,” Levi hissed, softening her vitriol with a cheeky wink and grin, eyes flicking to the crutches in his outstretched hands. “Burn them.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Have you always been this salty?”

“I was raised in Alaska, humans aren’t the top of the food chain there; you don’t hobble around, it makes you dinner.” Levi quipped. In an effort to lessen the effects, soothe the lingering pain of her abduction, Levi wasn’t hiding from talking about it, she addressed her childhood matter-of-factly, and by doing so, took away its power over her.

But it still stung sometimes.

Steve shook his head and glanced around. After Levi’s appointment with her doctor he’d pronounced her ankle stable enough to brace, written a note for the style of air boot he’d wanted her to wear and sent them to the nearest pharmacy. Only Levi’s desire to walk again, rather than being confined to the couch, kept her from outright rejecting the boot when the woman brought it out. She seemed to be warming up to it, Steve thought, as her steps became more confident. Levi still had a hell of a limp, but she was upright and Steve knew already, despite the fact that he had only been reunited with her short weeks ago, that he was never going to get her to stay down again.

“Let’s go.” Levi declared, marching past and Steve chuckled.

The next few days dragged. Levi was impatient, itching for Bucky to return; a part of her didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to open this particular door, but a larger part wanted to know, needed to know. The quiet around her because of Steve’s time at work, covering for Bucky’s absence, and her own convalescence afforded her much time to think. Too much time.

When had all this began? When had Levi’s heart reached out and bound itself to Bucky’s? When had his? Had he been as taken with Levi in Steve’s living room as she was with him? Had his breath caught, his heart skipped?

And why had he run from her? Because he blamed himself? How could he think that it was his fault that she’d been abducted? What blame, grief and shame had he been suffering with all these years? Levi ached to know, to take that pain away. These feelings were new to her and, if she was being completely honest, a little scary. They’d definitely be more frightening if she didn’t have this time to be alone to process them, and she wondered if the time Bucky was taking away was helping him to clarify his feelings as well. The way he’d said her name, the way his face had contorted, his ragged exhales and the way he’d clung to her spoke to the depths of his desire, his want for her, but was that irrevocably tainted by his guilt, his unfair guilt?

Levi didn’t know, and it was both exhausting and useless to speculate.

Levi was quiet when Steve returned home that night; although he was tired and worn out from his day, it was easy for him to recognize the strain on his sister’s face when he sat down on the couch with a groan. Soup Levi had started was simmering gently on the stove, almost done, and the table set; but all that could wait until Steve learned what had his newfound sister looking so grave.

“What’s up, kid?” He murmured quietly. Bucky’s absence and the revelation of his guilt had hit Levi hard, and it was difficult for Steve to see her like this, and to know that, hours away in Baltimore, Bucky was probably struggling with the same. He loved Bucky like a brother, Bucky was his brother; and his love for Levi was viciously strong, even though they’d only been reunited for short weeks, and it made an ache settle deep in Steve’s chest to see her like this.

“The house is gone.” Levi murmured quietly.

“What?” Ice trickled down Steve’s spine. What could that possibly mean?

“My house, up in Alaska. My friend Renny just called; it burned to the ground. Looks like a wiring thing; he said it’s a total loss.”

Steve exhaled hard. “Levi, I’m sorry.”

“Saves me the trouble, really,” Levi muttered, pulling at the edge of a cushion. “Don’t have to fly back up there and throw everything away now.”

“You were throwing everything away?”

Levi swallowed hard and raised her head. “It was all a lie, Steve.” Her eyes were red-rimmed. “It wasn’t my life, this is. This is a blessing actually; I was dreading going back, seeing years of fiction, deception.”

“It was still your life, Levi. You lived it, even if it wasn’t truly yours. Those experiences weren’t dreams, they were still real.”

Levi sniffed, wiping at her cheek almost brusquely. “Sometimes... sometimes I wish she was still alive, just so I could ask her why? Why did you take me? But I know, if she was alive, I still wouldn’t know the truth. She never meant to tell me; sometimes I even wonder if she would have found some way to get rid of the key, if she’d had more time maybe before she died, to keep me from ever finding out who I was.”

Steve scooted closer silently and took Levi’s hand, pulling it into his lap and stroking gentle circles on the back of it with his thumb.

“I wondered, though; in the back of my mind. When I was sixteen, we studied blood groups in biology.” She wiped one more time at her cheeks and looked over at Steve, who held her gaze steadily. “I’m AB, and when I asked her, she said she was O. I found an old hospital card of... her husband’s, and his was O too. It didn’t make sense, and it scared me, so I told myself I was wrong, either I’d tested my own blood wrong, or she was mistaken about hers; or even, shit... maybe I was some freak who didn’t follow genetic laws, but.... it was always there, when I was quiet, when I wasn’t expecting it.... this big fucking elephant I was too scared to face.”

For a long moment, they were quiet; Levi sniffed heavily and leaned over, resting her forehead on Steve’s shoulder and he tipped his head to rest on hers.

The jarring clang of a notification startled Levi and she scrambled for her phone on the coffee table, while Steve straightened, wrapping the hand she’d dropped to grab her phone around her shoulders instead.

Whatever the message said made Levi inhale sharply, swear under her breath and scroll back up to the top to read again.

Steve waited patiently as she tapped out a heated response. “What is it?” He asked gently.

“I have to go back,” Levi grumbled. “That was Renny, there’s a few personal items that survived, insurance wants to speak with me, stuff I can’t do over the phone... dammit.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Steve asked tentatively.

“I want to say yes, but no. It’ll be fast, few days.” She turned to look up at his face then sighed heavily. “Can I use your laptop to find a flight?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Levi stood and moved into the kitchen. Steve followed a moment later but occupied himself at the stove, stirring the soup and ladling it into bowls. As he placed them on the table and sat himself, Levi glanced up. She looked calmer, resolved.

“Can you take me to the airport in the morning? There’s a flight out.”

“Yeah, Levi. No problem.”

“Thanks,” Levi returned her attention to the screen, tapping a few more times before closing the laptop and pushing it away. “Done. I’m not thinking about that shit anymore tonight, tell me about your day?”

*************************************************************************

Steve glanced out through the window and smothered a grin. He’d expected this.

A few hours ago, Bucky had arrived home and promptly disappeared into his house. Steve figured he’d clean up and maybe catch a short nap after the drive and it appeared, he had, but now he was walking somewhat hesitantly across the street and towards the house. Steve waited until the door opened and Bucky called out.

“Hey.”

“Hey, c’mon in. I’m in the kitchen.” Nat was coming over soon for supper and he was scrubbing potatoes to bake.

Bucky appeared, bottomless blue eyes roaming the room.

“Hey, bro. What’s up?” Steve offered, looking away to hide his smile. Bucky was looking for Levi, not him.

Bucky grumbled an unintelligible response.

Steve dropped the potatoes and moved to the fridge, reaching in and grabbing two beers he jerked his chin to the table, setting a bottle in front of Bucky when he sat. “How’s Sarah?”

Bucky took a swig first. “She’s good; shit, kids are growing like weeds. Lilly’s like running all around ‘Uncle Bucky! Uncle Bucky, come play with us!’ and little Cooper’s walking, sorta.”

Steve chuckled, swallowing.

“You?” Bucky continued. “Sorry I left you with the site, man-”

Steve shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m good, Nat’s coming over in a few for supper, quiet night, you know.”

“What about Levi?” Despite his efforts to sound neutral, he didn’t.

“She’s back in Alaska.”

The riot of emotions that flared across Bucky’s face before he closed off told Steve all he needed to know and he took another drink to hide his smile. Try as he might to fight it, to hide it from everyone, including himself; Bucky was hooked. The surprise, fear, sorrow and panic Steve had just seen in his eyes said so. “She left?”

Steve waited a beat before taking pity on the silly, lovestruck bastard. “Yeah, but she’ll be back in a few days.”

Bucky couldn’t hide his exhale of relief and Steve chewed on his lip to keep from snorting with laughter.

“Her house burned down,” Steve added. “Looks like wiring or something, she had to go up and take care of insurance and stuff.”

“Is she okay?”

“Not really, man.” Steve decided to lay it out. What he’d seen in Bucky’s eyes told him he cared, deeply; now he needed to know what his behavior was doing. “She’s confused as shit, you keep messing around on her; there, not there. Ignore her for days then dance with her like that, what the hell?”

Bucky blushed deeply, dropping his head in shame. “She-”

“She knows you blame yourself and she thinks it’s complete bullshit. We talked, I told her I felt responsible too and she shut that right the fuck down; she doesn’t understand why we think that way.”

Bucky looked away, blinking away unexpected tears.

“Talk to her when she gets back, Buck.” Steve’s voice took on a firm edge. “This is my sister, that I never thought I’d see again. I love you like a brother man, and we’ve been through everything together, but I’ll choose her over you any day, no hesitation. No offense.”

Bucky nodded, clearing his throat. Although it stung, he deserved it; and if he couldn’t get his shit together enough to stand behind the woman he... loved, he might as well stop fighting the truth and just admit it; then he would expect nothing less from his friend and brother. “I will. When is she back?”

Steve shrugged. “Few days, not really sure. You going to call her?”

Bucky shook his head. “Shouldn’t say what I need to tell her over the phone.”

Steve nodded in approval and drained his bottle.

****************************************************************************

Levi sighed, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. She’d been back, home, for just over a day now; all that mess and shit in Alaska in her rearview. Yesterday was a wash; after Steve had picked her up at the airport she’d collapsed into bed, slept straight through until this morning; waking up, if not refreshed, then at least semi-recharged. Currently she was seated cross-legged on the couch, the air boot still a pain in her ass and Steve’s laptop open across her thighs, scrolling slowly. She looked up in surprise when she heard a tap at the door.

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice was tentative.

“Hey.” Levi replied neutrally. “Shouldn’t you be out at the site?”

Bucky shook his head. “Wrapped up early today.” He hesitated at the archway into the living room and Levi raised a brow, quirking her lip in invitation to sit. She jostled slightly as Bucky sat near her; as she was sitting in the exact center of the couch, he couldn’t sit anywhere without being closer to her than he probably wanted.

Levi waited for him to speak first and continued to scroll the screen, studying the webpage.

“What are you looking at?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Real estate listings.” Levi replied, equally quietly. “I should have my own place, especially once Steve and Nat get married; I’m tired of wearing ear plugs at night, they make my ears itchy.”

Bucky snorted, his immediate amusement over Levi’s quip overruling the apprehension he felt at the rest of her words, but only for a moment. “You’re moving out?”

Levi shrugged. “Between the insurance and what I’m going to get selling the land to Renny’s friend, I’ll have enough for something small, or ‘quaint’ as I’m learning the real estate world calls it.”

Bucky hesitated; his heart was screaming at him, clamoring in his chest. Move in with me, it screeched. It’s too soon, the pragmatic voice in his head warned; but he’d been listening to that voice far too much recently and it had taken on a definite martyr bend lately. He opened his mouth, not yet sure what was going to come out when Levi inhaled sharply, rolling her head on her shoulders, eyes still fixed on the screen, not aware of how the sinuous movement of her body ignited a flare of reluctant heat in Bucky’s body. “Sore?”

“Yeah,” Levi replied absently. “My neck and back.”

“Turn.” Bucky wasn’t really sure what he was doing right now, his body was leaving the pragmatic voice in the dust.

Levi glanced at him in question before obeying, scooting sideways to give Bucky her back. She was wearing a low-back tank top, her hair coiled in a messy knot, affording Bucky a view of her skin he’d not seen yet, as she turned, he saw the curve of the side of her breast and his heart began to speed up.

“Levi... this is beautiful, I didn’t know you had tattoos.” Drawn despite his will, Bucky reached out, finger brushing lightly along the tribal design that began at the nape of her neck and continued down her spine, disappearing into her shirt.

Levi shivered involuntarily under his gentle touch. “Aana gave them to me.”

“Aana?”

“My friend’s grandmother, it’s a loose translation of her dialect. She was one of the last women in her tribe skilled at traditional tattooing; when I turned eighteen, she honored me by marking my back. They use a bone needle and thread, darkened with coal and pulled through the skin.”

Bucky was entranced and had to fight to pull his hand away from the stunning design, forced himself to instead rest his hands on Levi’s shoulders, to begin massaging her tense muscles.

“Did you get to see Aana before you left this time?”

Levi shook her head, dropping her head forward. “Aana and my friend died two winters ago, carbon monoxide poisoning. I was invited over that night, but I’d just done a double shift at work and was too tired to drive out to Aana’s cabin. If I had, I would have died too.”

Bucky froze, trying to wrap his head around that. “We never would have learned what happened to you.” He murmured quietly, suppressing a shudder. The thought was abhorrent, striking deep in Bucky’s heart; there was no use fighting this anymore, he was taken; completely and hopelessly given over to Levi; his running and fighting his own heart had only delayed the inevitable.

Before he could stop himself, Bucky leaned forward, closing his eyes and pressed his lips softly, tentatively, to the nape of Levi’s neck. His lips trembled at the blissful contact and Levi froze beneath him.

“Bucky,” she murmured, inhaling sharply.

He lingered a beat before pulling back only far enough to rest his forehead to her back. “Levi,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I can’t fight this anymore.”

“Then don’t.” She breathed.

“I don’t deserve you,” hot shame welled in his heart, the same old guilt beginning to bubble up and overwhelm the warmth of his desire.

Levi moaned quietly, then turned abruptly, making Bucky sit up straight in surprise. She reached up and cupped his face, eyes searching his desperately. “Why do you think that? Tell me.”

Bucky exhaled in defeat, letting his head loll in Levi’s grip. His shame and regret were tangible weights bearing down on him, crushing him.

“James, please?” Levi’s voice cracked and Bucky broke inside.

“I left you.” He choked. “Alone. Steve... he went in the house to get popsicles, and after he left you decided you wanted a purple one. I followed him to make sure he got one, but there weren’t any, just blue. It took a few minutes and when we came back out... you were gone. I left you, baby. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Levi inhaled, a deep shuddering breath. “Look at me.” She ordered, her voice shaking. Reluctantly, Bucky raised tear-filled eyes to hers. “You might as well blame my mom, for leaving three kids alone.”

Bucky winced and tried to look away, but Levi held his face firmly.

“Or the popsicle company for making too many flavors to choose from.”

The ghost of a sad smile pulled at Bucky’s lips.

“Or, how about we blame who’s really responsible?” Levi’s voice gained strength. “How about we blame the people who saw a little girl and decided it was okay to steal her? To take her away from her family? Let’s blame who’s really responsible. Not you, Bucky. Not a little boy.”

The remaining resistance in Bucky shattered at her words and he gave in, let the full wave of his suppressed sorrow crash over him; dropping his face into the crook of Levi’s throat, curling around her like a lifeline. Levi burrowed closer, carding her fingers through his hair, murmuring soothing sounds as she fought her own tears. Bucky’s anguish was a palpable cloud around him, suffocating and dark.

“I don’t blame you. I never have. I never will.”

“Levi-” Bucky choked, pulling back to sit up. He wiped at his cheeks, breathing heavily. Suddenly, he surged forwards, a hungry lunge and his mouth crashed over hers. Their lips bruised under the force, tongues tangling, moaning small sounds of need. Levi fell backwards, pulling a willing Bucky with her and let her thighs fall open. Bucky fitted between them and began to grind against her, his dick burning and raging against his zipper.

The gates had been opened and they were frantic for each other. Bucky pulled away from Levi’s lips only long enough to pull her shirt down and free her bare breast, latching onto it like a man starved. Levi arched beneath him with a cry, fingers tightening painfully in his hair. Her hands clawed at his fly, yanking desperately and parting them, reaching inside to grip his straining length.

“Jesus, baby-” Bucky gasped, bucking into her hand.

“What the hell?” Steve bellowed, the front door slamming behind him.

The fevered lovers froze, heads whipping to look at him. Quickly, Bucky pulled Levi’s shirt back up to cover her.

Steve marched past, rolling his eyes, fighting a snort of laughter. “About time you pulled your head out your ass, Buck. But don’t you dare mess up my couch!” He continued hollering as he disappeared into the kitchen. “Nat’s bringing pizza’s, get up and make yourselves presentable! My virgin eyes!!”

Their eyes, wide with excitement and surprise, met and they burst into laughter, the moment broken; cooler heads prevailing. Bucky dropped his face into Levi’s neck, inhaling her scent greedily even as he shook with laughter. “Virgin eyes, my ass.” He choked, making Levi laugh harder.

The door opened again. “Damn you two, right out on the couch?” Nat quipped, walking quickly past, carrying two boxes of pizza, holding one hand over her eyes dramatically.

“I told ‘em to quit it!” Steve barked from the kitchen, but he couldn’t maintain his serious tone and started laughing; muffled by the sound of cupboards opening and closing.

Bucky chuckled weakly, relieved and wound drum-tight at the same time, sitting back and pulling Levi to sit beside him. Levi wiped at her lips, not to remove his taste but to savor it; glancing up into Bucky’s eyes before she swallowed audibly and stood. Reflexively, Bucky reached up, steadying her with a hand on her hip and she smiled down at him.

“I’m going to go freshen up,” she murmured. “Then we should join them.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed before he could stop it, he didn’t want to ‘join them’, he wanted to continue what he and Levi had just been doing, only on his own couch this time.

Levi leaned forwards and Bucky sighed as her lips brushed his ear, her welcoming scent enveloping him. “Just for a while,” she turned her head, pressing a deliberate kiss to the tender skin just below his ear, making Bucky shudder. “Then we’ll make our excuses....” She pulled away, her grin both tentative and wicked, widening when she heard the low answering growl deep in his chest.

“Sure,” he breathed, hardly remembering what he was agreeing to, then watched in a daze as Levi disappeared down the hallway. Only once he’d heard a door shut did he startle awake again, standing and smoothing himself down, running a hand through his hair and across his face, stubble rasping.

Nat was sitting on the counter, Steve standing between her legs and murmuring in her ear, making her giggle when Bucky walked in. He considered turning around and walking right back out, but Steve heard him and pulled away, grinning like the fucking Cheshire cat.

“Bout time, ya tool.”

Bucky answered him with a middle finger before wandering over to the table, lifting the lids on the pizza boxes to inspect the bounty within. Although his body was wound tight with desire, there was a newfound lightness there too, a relief and warmth; he’d finally, as Steve so artistically put it ‘gotten his head out of his ass’ and found that Levi felt the same, had responded to his desperate, pent-up hunger with equal fever. He hadn’t felt this quiver of anticipation and pure joy in years, if ever.

Steve reached his side and held out plates. Bucky glanced up, his gaze locking with Steve’s.

You’ve got my blessing, brother; but hurt her and I will tear you the fuck apart, his intense stare said.

Never. Bucky answered silently.

Steve nodded, a quick snap of his head before pushing the plates into Bucky’s hands and turning back, cutlery rattling in his hands a moment later.

Levi appeared then, shyly scooting into the room, pressed to the doorframe. Her cheeks were an adorable shade of pink, like she expected a barrage of teasing, but Steve only grinned at her.

“C’mon kid, pizza’s getting cold.”

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #au bucky barnes #bucky and levi #i never stopped #bucky and lev #sebastian stan #bucky barnes drama #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes romance

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itsthecolleenlife · 4 years

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So I was just watching clips of Last Week Tonight

Specifically the Medicare for All segment from last month. And at around the eighteen-minute mark, he says that he hasn’t met a single person in the United States who doesn’t have a health insurance horror story. So I’mma share a couple of mine.

When I was thirteen my dentist told me that I had a congenitally absent tooth (basically, I didn’t have an adult tooth to replace the baby tooth). He explained that I would need to get a bridge or an implant when I ended up losing the tooth, otherwise I ran the risk of my teeth shifting to fill the gap, which would be quite painful and make it difficult to chew. He recommended to my mother that we go with the bridge option, because it was cheaper and less invasive. It would still cost at least $500 (c. 2004). On the way home, my mother asked me what I wanted to do. She was trying to steer me toward the bridge when I started crying, partly because the idea of getting dental surgery was scary but mostly because either way, it was gonna be really expensive, and we didn’t have dental insurance. We ended up leaving the tooth as-is and just hoping that it would stay there until I was an adult and could deal with it then. I got it pulled about ten years later at a dental school clinic. I haven’t gotten a prosthetic because it’s not visible when I smile and it doesn’t affect my bite.

When I was eighteen I went on birth control to regulate my period. This was pre-Obamacare, so there was no rule about insurance companies being required to pay for contraception. When I got to the pharmacy, I found out that a three-month supply was $80 with insurance, $50 without.

When I was nineteen my mother changed jobs so our insurance changed as well. On the old insurance, the co-pay for my meds had been reasonably affordable, around $100/month for birth control, anti-depressants, and ADHD meds. On the new insurance, my ADHD meds were not initially covered, so the co-pay for those was around $185/month. Fortunately we were able to get a prior authorization, and that price got cut in half.

When I was twenty-one my mother changed jobs again, and went back to our old insurance company. When my family was last on it, our deductible had been $1000. When we got back on it, our deductible went up to $5000. I decided to apply for medical assistance. Fortunately Minnesota has a fairly decent Medicaid program, and I got coverage. Unfortunately whenever my income level changed (which was frequent because I was in college), instead of just adjusting my premium, they would drop me and I would have to reapply.

When I was twenty-three I moved from southern Minnesota to Minneapolis, so my medical assistance changed (again). Before I moved, my doctor gave me about six months’ worth of paper scripts for my ADHD meds, so that I wouldn’t have to go without while I was finding a clinic. I ended up going to the Walgreen’s near my house, and I don’t know what happened but about six months down the line, Walgreen’s informed me that I was going to have to start paying out-of-pocket for my meds, because the medical assistance plan I was on wasn’t covered. I ended up frantically calling every other pharmacy in the neighborhood to find out if they accepted my plan, which was surprisingly difficult because the plan I was on is more common in greater Minnesota than in the metro. Eventually I went with Target Pharmacy (which later became CVS), and during the next enrollment period I switched to a different medical assistance plan that was accepted at more places in the metro. A couple years later CVS decided they weren’t going to accept my new plan anymore, so I had to find a new pharmacy again. (Some other bullshit happened later, but that wasn’t due to insurance so I won’t go into it).

When I was twenty-five I asked my PCP if she would increase the dosage of my ADHD meds. After some research we found out that my insurance doesn’t normally cover Concerta; I’d been grandfathered in when I went on that plan, but that wouldn’t apply if I changed my dosage. The only one my plan covered without a prior authorization was Adderall. My PCP and I were both willing to switch, but I ended up losing my coverage due to income change and didn’t get it back for a few months, so I just didn’t get my ADHD meds during that time. (This one ended up eventually working in my favor, because when I got back on my insurance, I got switched to Adderall, and it works a lottttttt better than Concerta ever did. But that was a rough couple months 😬)

When I was twenty-seven I got a job with the state of Minnesota, so I got that sweet AFSCME insurance. I ended up losing that job after three months, and my supervisor told me he arranged my last day to be at the end of the month so I wouldn’t have to pay for parking for an extra month. Unfortunately, this also meant that I ended up losing my insurance much more quickly, so I had to scramble to get back on medical assistance. Fortunately it was open enrollment so the process went pretty quickly and I was only uninsured for a month, and I’d just gotten my meds refilled so I didn’t have to worry about paying out-of-pocket.

The really sad thing is, on the spectrum of health insurance nightmares, mine are pretty mild. Right now, one of my friends is uninsured because she had to move away from her abusive parents and ended up in Kansas, and apparently in Kansas the only way a single adult without dependents can get Medicaid is if they’re on disability.

So basically, I’m really hoping either Bernie or Warren gets the nomination bc Biden ain’t gonna do shit.

#medicare for all #m4a #last week tonight #john oliver #tw period mention #tw surgery #longreads

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feyariel · 4 years

Text

The Joys of a New Prescription

A lot of things have gone wrong today (Mom being home exacerbated all other issues) and yesterday (oh so many things), but the singularly worst thing was having to deal with running out of my blood pressure pill.

Perspective:

Running out of insulin is a dire problem.

I mean, it should go without saying, but

However, it has happened enough times that I’ve developed several plans for how to mitigate disaster should I see it approaching.

(It’s called “try refilling before the weekend” and “syringe leftover insulin out of used pens.”)

I’ve never had an occasion where I’ve run out of a pill, though, for two reasons:

I only take a set amount of it in a day, unlike with insulin.

The pharmacy always tries to autorefill the pills less than a month from when I last filled. (This has resulted in having a couple of months worth of surplus pills. That’s more unhelpful than you’d think, given that my dosages change. For example, I am on 112 mcg of Levothyroxine and still have an unused bottle of 100 mcg pills.)

I have, however, missed doses - mainly of Levothyroxine. (I can say with confidence that while it hasn’t eliminated my symptoms, it has at least mitigated them. This is how I know.) Thus, I kinda figured today would be Hell, though blood pressure Hell instead of hypothyroidism Hell.

If all of my prescribed pills are on autorefill and they ill early, how exactly would I run out of one?

A fuck-up on the pharmacy/supply end, that’s how.

Last Monday, I got a call from the pharmacy. The pharmacist claimed that they had been having trouble getting pills in the dose I take and was wondering if it would be fine with me if they got the endo to prescribe two pills daily at half the dose; naturally, I said that was okay.

"Claimed” is the big word there. When last they filled my prescription (end of November), they gave me a whole bottle (90 day supply). They started a new drug fill policy last fall: if it would save the patient money, they’ll fill as many months’ supply as they can. The thing is, my copays for all of my pills last year (and so far this year, though it won’t last [but that’s another story]) were $0. I wasn’t saving money, though I appreciated the effort. They could have filled the scrip for multiple patients. Unless this issue started at the beginning of the year (which is possible), there’s no reason why they shouldn’t have done exactly that. Since their claim doesn’t line up with it being an all-of-the-sudden issue (see below), I suspect it’s just them fucking up.

And so I waited. I waited the whole week. I even went in to check on what scrips were ready (the website had fucked up in the meantime). I got no word.

Saturday night was the last of that pill I had. Thus, Sunday night I fished around looking for the refill, thinking I had it. Not finding anything, I decided to wait until the morning and find out.

It wasn’t until waking up, dealing with Mom and sundry issues, and looking around that I recalled the phone call. I checked the pharmacy’s website (not expecting that I’d get through due to the previous fuckery that made me go into the pharmacy to ask, though I found a work-around) and, sure enough, there was an issue with the pill.

I called.

The automated service picked up and didn’t recognize my Rx number (thrice).

Some lady answered and put me on hold, only saying “hold.” I listened to the advertisement for whatever service and almost missed her coming back on. She interrupted me multiple times while I was speaking and was overall rude, but I did get some information:

Not only are they having trouble getting the dose of the pill I’m on from the manufacturer, they’re having trouble getting the half-dose, as well.

Supposedly, the pill is “obsolete.” (What kind of pharmaceutical industry bullshit is that?)

I could try Wal-Mart or Walgreens (because my insurance will cover that), but they’re unlikely to have anything.

I need to contact my doctor about it and get a new scrip.

I’ve been waiting a week for you to address this issue, as you said you would, and not only did you not give me notice that you were still having trouble with it, but you didn’t tell me when I walked into the store two days before and asked about which scrips were ready to refill? And now -- now that it has taken this long, I’ve run out of the medication, and you’ve not gotten anything accomplished -- I have to be the one to call the prescriber to get a new prescription?

Well, I did. I had to leave a message, but I did. I specifically asked to have them call me back.

Did they? No.

I found out that my Dad was having the same problem. Gee, I wonder why?

I waited for the call back. The doctor’s office closes at 4:30, so I’m sitting there, waiting and waiting, to no avail. At 4:30 on the dot I get a text message from the pharmacy saying that my scrip is ready.

Let’s go through the history for a second:

I was originally on Lisinopril. It made my hair fall out.

Once I found out that it wasn’t necessarily a hypothyroidism symptom but a side-effect of the blood pressure pill, they switched me to Losartan. No side-effects (at least, that I was aware of; I did check) for however many years I was on that (quite a few).

Today, with that pill becoming “obsolete,” they put me on Olmesartan.

Now, I first misread that as “Omlesartan” and thought today was a big joke. This is clearly going to have the side effect of turning me into a delicious breakfast item made of cheese and eggs.

Once I reread it and added “dyslexia” to the list of ingredients for said morningtime comestible, I decided that it would turn me into a member of a long-defunct, pre-Columbian, Mesoamerican empire.

That’s when my ‘90s-kid memories came back:

Then I remembered the pill for Herpes with teleportation as a side effect:

youtube

From these two, I quickly realized that my new pill will work like a maze spell and trap me in the Goddamn Shrine of the Motherfucking Silver Monkey:

Where I’ll await some bullshit Temple Guard to escort my ass to oblivion:

And that is how this blog will end: not with Fey succeeding at rewinding time, but trapped in the eternal torture of ‘90s children’s game shows.

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crystalinn · 4 years

Text

I haven’t posted about this here yet, but boy howdy has my life been A Mess™️ of late.

TW: medical talk, high stress situations, mentions of blood under the cut

This is a very long post, so a mild TL;DR: ma’s sick and this is me for eternity now (loud noises in video):

youtube

Picture it. November 10th (ish. Time is hard.). The motherbeast came down with a case of viral bronchitis. She got a few days off work to recover.

A couple days pass. She went back to work. Her manager sent her in the cooler for two hours.

An immediate downturn ft. a fall out of bed that took 45 minutes to fix, heavy panting, confusion, the whole lot. She went to the Express ER. They said “oh hey, your viral bronchitis has become full blown pneumonia. You’re goin’ to the Real Hospital™️ for two days. See if you respond well.” Turns out, she did, at first.

About a week or two of what seemed like solid improvement all came crashing back down when her return to work arrived. She went back to work... or tried to. She went to step onto the curb and gravity said no. She faceplanted the pavement, and the ambulance was called. A thorough concussion check later, and her manager drove her and her truck home. The next day, she went back to the Express ER, and they said “oh shit, your lung xray is worse than last time. Back to the Hospital for you.”

That stay was nine days long. She was tested for tuberculosis (which came back negative, thankfully), and had a PICC line installed. During said stay, she did get rather confused and agitated, as it was near the end of the month and the rent needed paid. She called me in the middle of the night, asking me to move her IV... despite me being at home. So that was a thing.

After she came home on the 4th of this month (December), I had to start administering her PICC line antibiotics, every 8 hours. Did y’all know that cefepime (a bigboi antibiotic) smells like someone doing unholy things to eggs? Sulfuric smelling bullshit, that. Had some hiccups there, what with massive air bubbles in the line and getting the infusion orb stuck on the line. We were supposed to be done the 25th. Then she went to her new primary care doctor, and it was extended to the 6th of January, which h.

Anyway, fast forward to the 23rd. Mum was out with a pal, getting some groceries, and some Miralax ‘cause... y’know, and she fell on her ass. At this point, falling down is like a glowing neon red flag. She came home, was a bit wobbly, but was generally okay. Her primary care doctor called after the home health nurses stole some blood to tell her that her potassium levels are critical. A friend/my ‘adopted’ brotherbeast, Frank, brought her a fuckton of bananas that night.

Now this is where it gets real fuckin’ spicy. The morning of the 24th, after we get done with the 7am orb, I gave her a dose of Miralax. She was fine, until the 3pm orb, when severe gut cramps showed up. Those lasted until about midnight when things... moved along. After that, shit went downhill fast. I put her to bed after orb times at 11 pm, and she kept waking up. As time went on, she got more and more confused. Like, she knew general things, in a kinda slow way, but she could not follow directions. On the morning of the 25th (fucking Christmas.), things had reached its boiling point. She was very confused, unable to focus, slurring words. I rang up a friend, Sandy (who has been a massive help this whole time of Fuckery), to get her to the ER. This triggered a complete meltdown. It took both of us to get her out of her chair, not to mention the sudden burst of confused crying and begging not to go.

We finally managed to get her there, and the ER’s like “yo this looks like a stroke, so we’re gonna keep her, do an MRI or three, and get back to you.” Turns out she was very dehydrated, currently has a UTI, and is still a bit... shall we say, fucked up. But, the MRI came out clean, but there was some issue with the PICC with like, a blood clot, but they cleaned it out, so they let her go on the 26th.

But just wait for it... I put her to bed pretty much as soon as she got home, ‘cause she doesn’t sleep in the hospital. Makes sense, right? I went to check on her at about 8, and she was unable to really comply with requests/commands/questions. I’d ask “what’s your name?”, I’d get her name (most of the time), but when I’d ask “when’s your birthday?”, I’d get her name again. Or the fact she lost her PICC line cap, and I’d ask her to hold the newly sterilized port so it wouldn’t touch anything, she’d say okay, take it, and immediately drop it. Repeatedly.

I broke down whilst on the phone with my dad because everything has been too much of late, and eventually put her back to bed to wait for the 11pm orb.

11pm rolled around... and well. I couldn’t get her to wake up. She’d react to me poking and prodding her by making noise and moving away, but she would not wake up. Not properly. So, I called the on call home health nurse to see if she could help, and she pretty much told me to just call an ambulance. Not wanting the expense because I live in Hell the US, I called my dad. He helped me try to wake her up over the phone, but she flat refused. I was left with no choice. So, I called the ambulance, and just before they knocked on the door, she sat up like “huh?” but extra confused. She almost didn’t go to the hospital because she said “nah, I don’t want to go” but one of the EMTs was like “nah, you gotta go.”

So, she spent about 8 hours in the ER, and they told me that they can’t keep her since she was mostly lucid, but they did float an Idea (a skilled nursing facility, at least until she got her ducks in a row) to her that was immediately denied, but with some prodding from me, she finally agreed. So they moved her upstairs from the ER to keep her until they can find a facility in the Blue Cross/Blue Shield network that’s reasonably local. The one that came to visit yesterday turned out to not be, and I’m pretty sure the dude kicked it back to the Case Supervisor to see if they can find another. But, after they moved her into her room, she’s cleared up quite a bit.

She’s still a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, a bit unfocused, and can get caught out in the grapes mentally, but she has improved a lot.

Oh, and another thing she’s been doing is fighting me re: eating since the first go around. Bread’s a texture issue, rice is hard to eat without teeth, and everything else “smells bad” (which, since she’s quit smoking as of that second hospital stay... I understand, but you gotta sometimes push past that.) I did manage bananas though. Thank fuck for those.

But, back to the plot: today (the 28th) was a decent day. Much clearer, less starts and stops in her speech. A bit more focused. She didn’t manage to sleep last night, so she was kinda tired. Had another MRI, but we won’t know about that until probably tomorrow (the 29th). Maybe. Had some PICC issues, though. The nurse got the cefepime running just fine, then mum had to use the bathroom, and when she came out, the machine started screaming bloody murder. After that, the nurse came back and tried to flush the line, since the cefepime was unable to run, and when she took the syringe off, the saline shot right back out... which ain’t supposed to happen. Hit me, the nurse, mum, the bed... probably got the windows too. So they’re working on that, and hopefully they figure it out.

Had my own woes at the hospital today, too. The sole of my boot fell off, so my ride/friend/adopted sister?, Sandy, went to walmart and got me some Heavy Duty Superglue, which I got it about half way stuck before we had to leave... then when we were pulling into the parking lot at home, the nurse in charge called to ask some questions about the PICC, the antibiotic, how long it’d been there, how long she was supposed to be on it, the pharmacy’s number, all that. So I went to get out of the car, my coke bottle fell out of my pocket, started rolling under the car, and I overextended. Fell right on my knees. They are not happy. Took a hot minute to get my dumb ass off the ground, without hurting Sandy, who is like 5′2″ and v smol. I am 5′6″ and... decidedly not. Plus the bonus rain.

UPDATE 12/29/2019: the diverticulitis has made a reappearance. It’s like everything is just It’s free real estate.

UPDATE 12/31/2019: Around 2 am this morning, she managed to roll out of bed and whack her head pretty good on something. They did a CT scan, and it came out clean. No concussion. However, now she has a sitter/keeper/minder to make sure she doesn’t do it again. It’s a good thing the nurses heard her fall, ‘cause despite being armed, the bed alarm didn’t go off. I know of all of this, ‘cause the hospital called me at 3 this morning, and boy howdy that’s a gut drop, let me tell you. But, better a CT ride and a bump on her noggin vs. the alternative. Sure is one thing after a-fucking-nother, ain’t it though.

UPDATE 1/1/2020: 2019 keep your problems challenge: she's had a major mental shift again, and now she's really groggy, really confused... So the hospital moved her to the ICU and called me for consent on a spinal tap, just to make sure they're not missing anything. Other than that, they've done x-rays and another CT, I think to check her spine, hips, the one leg she's been having issues with. The doctors also think that it may be the cefepime causing this altered mental state, and after doing some digging, boy howdy I sure believe it. Cephalosporins are some nasty fuckers.

So! That’s been my month and a half! I’d like to take a break now, please!

EDIT: Further updates found here.

#medical tw //#high stress situations tw //#mentions of blood //#honestly this is more of a log for me in a more concrete area than discord #but if anyone's interested in the Fuckening that is my life rn #have at it

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write-havoc · 5 years

Text

The Glasswing Butterfly Part 17

Summary: Chuck has never thought of herself as anything special. Just an average beta living her life next door to a womanizing alpha named Negan. But her life, and Negan’s too, are turned upside down when Chuck suddenly presents as omega.

This is a non-zombie AU featuring A/B/O dynamics.

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

“Fuck. Oh fuuuucckk,” Negan groans as his knot swells to completion once again inside Chuck. He can already feel his head clearing, signaling that this cycle of his rut and her heat is coming to an end.

“Mmm,” Chuck hums as she comes down from her own high.

“You good, baby girl?” he whispers into her ear as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her back into his chest.

“I’m good,” she answers dreamily, placing her arms over his wrapped around her.

“You know, I kinda like all the pillows,” he jokes. “Makes shit cozier. Like we’re fucking in a cocoon.”

She giggles. “Now that my heat is just about over, I think we can get rid of them. After your knot goes down, anyway.”

He snuggles more into her back. “We can keep them ‘til tomorrow,” he says with a smirk.

A few days later, Negan walks into the nearest pharmacy to pick up his prescription of omega condoms, since they are almost completely out after Chuck’s heat. It’s such a hassle having to call his doctor so they can call the pharmacy so Negan can wait in line just so he can sleep with Chuck without her getting pregnant, but it’s necessary. Annoying, but necessary since Chuck can’t take any birth control.

Of course the place is busy when he gets there, so he stands in line patiently waiting until he can get to the counter. It’s a smaller pharmacy than the one back in Charlottesville, so there’s only a few people working there, which is why the line is so long. After a while, he finally gets to the front.

“Prescription for Negan,” he says to the girl behind the counter.

She pauses, giving him an anxious look before she mutters, “Just a moment.” The girl quickly walks away to disappear into the back. After a few minutes, an older man in a lab coat comes forward, obviously the pharmacist and not just a technician like the younger woman from earlier.

“Mr. Negan,” the man starts, “I’m sorry, but I can’t fill your prescription.”

“Why not?” Negan spits back.

“I am morally opposed to providing it to you.”

“ Morally opposed ? What the fuck does that mean?”

The man lets out a huff. “It is my right not to provide drugs that go against my moral and religious beliefs.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You have a whole fuckin’ aisle of condoms and lube just over there that anyone can pick up! Or is it just so betas can pick that shit up?”

The pharmacist is starting to look very nervous, but he holds his ground. “I suggest you come back tomorrow. The pharmacist on duty then will probably fill your prescription.”

Negan, fully pissed off now, points his finger right in the man’s face. “This is bullshit and you know it. Classist fuck.” He stomps through the people gawking at the display of what just happened and exits the store.

As soon as Chuck sees Negan come in from where she’s walking down the stairs, she knows something is wrong. “What happened?” she asks as she continues her descent to follow him into the kitchen.

He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of water before turning around to answer her. “The pharmacist wouldn’t give me my prescription,” he relays with anger in his tone. “Small town fuckin’ pharmacy,” he mutters.

“What? They can do that?”

“Yeah.” He takes a gulp of water. “‘Religious beliefs’,” he says with quotey fingers. “It’s perfectly fine for doctors and shit to discriminate against us because of a few words in the goddamn bible saying that nothing should come in the way of alphas impregnating omegas.” He takes another angry drink. “Fuckin’ discriminating assholes,” he mutters.

“So we have to find another pharmacy?”

He lets out a huff as he leans back on the counter. “I don’t want to have to fuckin’ drive into DC every time we need a goddamn prescription.” He sets the bottle down and scratches at his cheek. “I’ll go back tomorrow and see if the other pharmacist will do it. If they won’t, then I guess I’ll have to brave fuckin’ DC traffic.”

“Alright.” She goes over to him and gives him a hug. “I’m sorry this is such a hassle.”

He kisses the top of her head. “It’s not your fault. It’s that old ass beta’s fault for being a hateful dick. I can’t believe it’s fuckin’ legal to do that shit still.”

The next day, Negan heads back to the pharmacy. He waits in line, just like he did yesterday, and when he gets to the counter, he sees the same young woman from yesterday handing out the prescriptions. Once she sees Negan, her eyebrows raise almost like she’s scared.

“Negan,” he says to her without prompt.

“Uh. Yes, sir.” She hurries to the back and comes back with a white bag in her hands. “There you go,” she says quietly, afraid of how the alpha in front of her will react.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he tries to soothe her. “I know you’re just doing your job. It’s not your fault that pharmacist is living in the fuckin’ olden days.”

She gives him a nervous smile. “Thanks.”

After she rings him out, he asks, “So what days does the douchebag pharmacist work so I know to stay away?”

“Uh.” She clears her throat. “I can’t tell you that,” she answers meekly. “It’s company policy.”

He lets out a huff and picks up the bag from the counter. “Of course it is.”

“H-Have a nice day.”

He just gives her a nod and walks out.

Negan has been working on his bike for a few hours when his phone rings. After the short conversation with an old acquaintance, he makes his way back inside. He’s just about ready to call out for Chuck when he hears music coming from upstairs. He follows the melody to their bedroom to see Chuck practicing her violin.

“Sounds beautiful,” Negan comments from the doorway.

Chuck stops playing to look up at him. “I’m not that good yet. But I’m getting better.” She moves to put the instrument back in it’s case. “I’m glad my mom gave it to me. It’s pretty fun to play.”

Negan takes a few steps into the room. “So... you remember when I told you I was gonna take you to a baseball game?”

She scrunches up her face as she tries to remember. “Not really.”

“Well I did tell you that and now I’m gonna be in possession of two tickets to see my Yankees play in DC. This guy I know came into them and isn’t a fuckin’ fan, so he’s gonna give ‘em to me.”

“Oh,” she replies, trying to sound excited. “That’s nice.”

He just chuckles at her unenthusiastic reaction. “Come on! Baseball is the national pastime!”

“No, I know. I just... don’t watch baseball.” She shrugs a shoulder. “But I’ll go to this game with you.”

“Don’t sound so happy about it,” he jokes sarcastically.

She giggles. “I’m happy... to spend time with you.”

Pulling her into him for a kiss, he chuckles at how hard she’s trying to hide her indifference to his favorite sport.

Just under a week later, Chuck and Negan (decked out in all his Yankees gear) are sat in Nationals Park in DC waiting for the game to start.

“How are you a Yankees fan?” Chuck asks. “You’ve always lived in Virginia, right?”

“Yeah.” He lets out a sad chuckle. “My dad was born in Boston. Always made me watch the fuckin’ Red Sox. Since my fuckin’ father was an asshole, I decided to root for the Yankees despite him.” When she just looks at him confused, he realizes he has to explain. “The Yankees and the Red Sox are rivals. Have been for decades. It’s like the biggest fuckin’ sports rivalry in history.”

She gives him a little shrug.

“Curse of the Bambino?” he tries, thinking she has to have at least heard of that.

“I don’t know what that is,” she admits.

“Shit,” he groans, but she just laughs.

“My family was never a sports family. We’re band nerds.”

Negan shakes his head, playing up his fake disappointment. “You’re breaking my heart girl. You’ve heard of Babe Ruth, right?”

“Yeah. I know who he is.”

“That’s something, at least.”

As the game gets underway, Chuck tries her best to pay attention to the action on the field. She soon finds that it’s much more entertaining just to watch Negan as he’s watching the game.

*crack* The ball sails through the air as the Nationals batter starts to run to first base.

“Ah, shit! They could get three fuckin’ runs! No!” Negan jumps up from his seat as his eyes follow the ball. “Catch it! Fuckin’ catch it!”

When the ball lands safely in one of the Yankee’s gloves, Negan lets out a cry of relief. But he goes absolutely nuts when the player throws the ball to the guy on third base, which calls one runner out. When the ball is thrown home, the umpire calls another runner from the Nationals out as he slides in.

“Triple play!” Negan screams as he throws his hands up in the air. “Holy shit!”

Chuck can’t help but giggle at how excited he is. It makes him look like a little kid, which is so cute to her.

“Did you fuckin’ see that?!” He turns back to Chuck to see her reaction. “That was fuckin’ amazing. A triple play!”

Chuck nods, though she’s still giggling. “Is that good?”

“Is that good?!” He sits back down, his breathing still rapid from the excitement. “It’s fuckin’ rare and awesome as fuck! I can’t believe I was here for that!”

“I didn’t really see it,” she admits. “I was watching you.”

“What?” He scrunches up his face in confusion. “Why the fuck would you be watching me?”

“Because I like to see you so excited.”

That gets him to let out a chuckle. “I guess I can accept that.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her forward to kiss her.

Once the game is over (Yankees won), Chuck and Negan exit the stadium to make their way home. Despite the horrible gridlock that comes with all the spectators leaving at the same time, Negan is still practically vibrating with enthusiasm.

“That was such a good fuckin’ game,” he comments. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah. I had fun.”

“Did you?” He flicks his gaze over to her. “Or are you just fuckin’ saying that?”

“I did have fun. I had fun because you had fun.”

He shakes his head with a smile on his face. “I’m not making you a fuckin’ fan of baseball anytime soon, am I?”

She shrugs. “Maybe...”

Her attempt at being diplomatic doesn’t fool Negan, but he’s not offended. “I guess we’re just gonna have to continue to disagree on the entertainment value of organized sports.”

She giggles. “That’s probably for the best.”

A few days later, Diane comes for a visit. Since Negan had gotten called in to work, Chuck and her mother have the house to themselves.

“Work’s going well?” Diane asks her daughter as they both sit on the couch, mugs of coffee in their hands.

“Yeah,” Chuck answers. “It’s really good.”

“And Negan?”

Chuck giggles. “He’s good, too.” She brings her mug up to take a sip of her sweet coffee.

“Have you started to talk about the wedding?”

Chuck lets out a little cough into her cup. “Wedding?”

“Well yeah. You know, to your fiancé ?” Diane replies sarcastically.

“We, uh.” Chuck clears her throat. “We haven’t really talked about it.”

“Charlotte Josephine,” her mother chides. “You’ve been engaged for months now.”

“I know. But we’re already mates. And living together. A wedding is just a ceremony, really.”

“A ceremony your mother wants to see!”

Chuck laughs at her dramatics. “We’ll have a wedding at some point, Mom. But I don’t want a big thing. Just a little get together. I mean,” Chuck looks around, “we could do it here. We have a nice back yard.”

“Negan might want it done in a church.”

Chuck gives her a look. “Is that your way of saying that you want it in a church?”

“No,” Diane tries, though Chuck is right. “You haven’t asked Negan, have you?”

“He’s not exactly religious, Mom. Neither am I.”

“There are some gorgeous churches around here-“

“You’ve already been planning the wedding, haven’t you?” Chuck asks, talking over her mother.

Diane doesn’t see the point in hiding it anymore. “Of course I have! You’re my only child. When you were a little girl, I always pictured you meeting a nice boy in college, renting a crappy apartment together, getting engaged, and having a big wedding with everyone’s families. Then you’d get a house, kids, the whole nine yards. But...”

“I wasn’t normal.” Chuck finishes the sentence sadly.

“No. I wasn’t going to say that.”

“But I wasn’t normal. I was an omega, but... not really.”

“I always thought there was someone out there for you,” Diane reassures her daughter. “I was right. Sort of,” she tacks on with a laugh. “I never thought he’d be an alpha and you’d be an omega and the whole claiming stuff. So it’s a little different than I’d imagined,” she chuckles a bit. “But I’m so happy that you’ve found love with Negan.” Chuck feels her cheeks going red at that, but Diane just continues. “And I wanna celebrate that with a wedding!”

Chuck laughs. “Alright. Me and Negan will start to talk about it,” she assures her.

“Yes!” Diane calls out.

“I said start to talk,” Chuck stresses. “Don’t get too excited just yet.”

Meanwhile, Negan is sitting in on a math class all day at the high school. The teacher hadn’t left any specific instructions, so Negan is just treating it as a study hall. It’s not exactly exciting, but he’s getting to know the kids a little more.

The last period of the day happens to be a class that Carl Grimes is in. As soon as Negan sees him, he lets out a laugh.

“It’s about time I get one of your classes,” he calls out as Carl takes his seat along with his friends that came in with him.

“Hey, Negan,” the teenager greets.

When Negan sees that the class is mostly empty after the bell rings, he lets out a huff. ��Where the fuck is everyone else?” he asks no one in particular.

“They all skipped to get home early,” Carl answers.

“Fuckin’ assholes.” Negan can’t say he blames them, since he wasn’t going to have them do anything anyway, but he’s not exactly okay with students skipping classes. “I guess it’s just us, then,” he mutters. “If you got homework or some shit to do, work on it. It’s not like we have anything else to fuckin’ do.”

“Can we get hall passes out?” one of Carl’s friends asks.

“Where?”

The friend looks to Carl for him to take over, since he’s friendlier with Negan. “There a storage room beside the gym with old equipment. We just hang out in there sometimes,” Carl explains.

Negan lets out a huff. “I’m not gonna let you guys go there unsupervised to play grabass or what-the-fuck-ever. Who the fuck do you think I am?”

The other kids look embarrassed, but not Carl. “We mostly just play ping pong or fuck around with the tennis rackets.”

“First of all, language,” he starts. “Your balls haven’t been descended long enough for you to earn the right to say ‘fuck’. And secondly, there’s a fuckin’ ping pong table?”

“Yeah,” Carl answers. “It’s old. They never pull it out for anything.”

One of the girls pipes up. “My mom said they had a table tennis club in the nineties. I think it’s from that time.”

Negan suddenly stands, his mind made up. “Alright. We’re headed to this fuckin’ place. Lead the way.”

Carl and the five other kids take Negan to the room they were talking about. It’s tucked away behind the stage and it’s obviously the graveyard for old sports equipment and sets/props for the drama club. Near the center of the room sits a well worn ping pong table with balls and paddles sitting on top of it.

“Shit yeah!” Negan walks over to the table and picks out the least broken paddle. “Who’s first?”

The kids look around at each other, a bit confused.

“This is a fuckin’ tournament,” Negan provides. “Someone step up!”

“What do we get if we win?” one of the students asks.

“A hundred bucks if any of you fuckers can beat me,” Negan replies with all the confidence in the world.

“I’m in,” one of the boys says as he picks up another paddle.

The table is cleared and the game gets underway. Of course, Negan wipes the floor with the kid. Easily. The boy doesn’t get a single point before Negan gets to eleven. Carl tries next and has his ass handed to him as well. The two girls in the group go next, though they’re no match for Negan. As the last of the boys fail as well, Negan lets out a laugh.

“I still fuckin’ got it!” he says with a twirl of his paddle.

Carl lets out a scoff. “You failed to mention that you’re really good at this. It’s not exactly fair.”

“It’s not like I’m taking your money, kid. Besides, this was much more fun than sitting on our asses in that classroom.”

Despite the kids having lost their games, they do agree that it was better than having a study hall.

“You should start up the table tennis club again, Mr. Negan,” one of the girls comments.

He doesn’t correct the girl to just call him ‘Negan’, but instead, gives her statement a thought. “Would anyone join?” he asks to the group. “I know you kids only care about your fuckin’ snapchats or what-the-fuck-ever.”

Carl shrugs a little. “I’d join.”

His two friends nod, too. Then, the girls.

“I could use another extra curricular,” one of the girls says.

A slow smile spreads across Negan’s face. He would love the chance to coach an actual sport here. Their baseball coach, unfortunately, has no plans of quitting any time soon, so that was never an option. But this? Even if it’s not an official competitive sport at the school, it would still be fun for Negan.

“You know what?” Negan starts. “I’m gonna talk to Principal Delaney. See if I can’t get this shit started. If I get a sign up sheet posted, you guys spread it around. Tell everyone how fuckin’ fun this shit is.”

As soon as the dismissal bell rings, Negan heads off to find Jo Delaney. He finds her in the hallway heading to her office and quickly tells her his intentions.

“Ping pong?” she questions.

“Yeah. Table tennis. It’s a fuckin’ sport.”

She chuckles. “I know it is. But why ping pong?”

Negan shrugs. “Apparently, this school used to have a table tennis club. Besides, it gives me a chance to actually coach something. And it gives some of these kids an opportunity to join something. You know, for their college applications and shit.”

Jo thinks it over. “You’re probably not going to get any money for this,” she comments.

“I’ll raise some,” Negan responds.

“I don’t have a problem with it, I suppose. Just make sure you get permission slips from all the kids that are interested.” She looks at him skeptically. “ If there are any interested.”

“You doubt me, but I’m gonna make it work,” he says with a smirk, then turns to walk away. “Just you see.”

Before Negan leaves for the day, he makes sure to pin up some sign up sheets to various bulletin boards around the school, hoping that there would be some interest in his little club so he can prove Jo wrong. Just to make sure that happens, he sends off a text to Rick, asking him to have Carl talk to all his friends about signing up.

When Negan gets home, Chuck can see the smile on his face.

“Good day?” she asks as she walks over to greet him.

“I’m starting up a table tennis club,” he explains casually.

She raises her eyebrows. “Table tennis club? Is that a thing?”

“It is now.” He plops himself down on the couch and pulls his phone out. “You mind if I buy a ping pong table and set it up in the garage?” he asks as he already searches for one on amazon.

“No.” She giggles as she sits down beside him. “This club is going to meet in our garage?”

“Yeah. I figured no one else would give us any fuckin’ space. Doubt they’ll let us use the gym.” He looks up from his phone at her. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she answers with a smile. “That’s fine.”

He goes back to his phone, finalizing his order before looking back up to Chuck’s smiling face. “What?”

She shrugs. “Nothing.”

“What?” he asks again.

“I like seeing you excited about your students. It’s cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“You’re cute,” she insists.

He suddenly pulls her into his lap and buries his nose into her neck, taking a deep breath and letting out a groan. As he starts to harden underneath Chuck, he whispers in her ear, “That feel cute to you?”

She laughs. “You know what, it actually does.”

He flips them around, pinning her underneath him. “I’ll show you cute,” he growls.

She knows he’s just playing around, so she continues with the joke. “You’re so adorable!” As he kisses her neck, she giggles. “Like a little kitten.” Once his kisses turn more passionate, her giggles turn to moans automatically.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” he says with a chuckle.

#the glasswing butterfly #writehavoc the Glasswing Butterfly #writehavoc writes #negan #negan x oc #alpha negan #negan fanfiction #negan x ofc #negan x original female character #negans thirst squad #negan/original female character #negan / oc #negan / ofc #negan / original female character #The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead AU #the walking dead fanfiction

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kierarutherford · 5 years

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Vent/Shit overload

I’m going to post this, leave it and that’s that. So, if you want to travel down the Kiera’s last week of insanity rabbit hole, it’s under the break.

So, as per usual this week started rough. Couldn’t sleep well, my youngest started school (Last monday, I’m venting remember) and things seemed to kick off to a miserable start. He’s my baby, my LAST baby and he’s got issues. The first day went well considering and the poor thing came home, stripped to his undies and curled up under a blanket; instantly zonked. WELL we could not wake him for anything. Que midnight wake up and 6 am sleep.... We forced him to school, got to get that schedule going right. Tuesday... He goes straight to class, curls up into a ball on the carpet and zonks out for 3 hours. *Sigh* comes home to sleep a couple more. AGAIN, a late night. Wednesday repeats, but no nap at home. Thursday comes... Ah fuck me thursday. He is due for his Psyche Eval - A.K.A an IQ test for kids with issues. He comes in with: IDD also known as Intelligent Development Disorder. Link here, scoring between mild to moderate. My precious baby will “never catch up.” Or so I am told. I get all this access to help, but NO direction.... My brain melts. I zombie the rest of the day.

Friday comes. My two older children go to visit their grandparents. Enter phone call, daughter is ill. I work at a pharmacy. Pick up the staples, ginger ale, chicken noodle soup, meds. Drop EVERYTHING off, stick around for a cup of tea and chat. Dad’s been fired.... What?! He’s 60 this next week... Where’s my dad going to get a job at his age? He can’t retire yet, doesn’t have enough in savings to survive.... I zombie again...

Storm rolls in, kills internet. No writing.

Back track to Tuesday. It’s been a week since my husband had intervascular imaging on his legs. -Born with club feet, link here. He’s experiencing pain, swelling and general bullshit of having a mother who IGNORED all the medical work he needed done throughout his growing year. Call Dr. Office. “No records have been recieved yet.” -I work at a pharmacy.- We fax that office daily. I’ve been getting scripts from him. So, I know his fax works. Call imaging center, they’re “resending the paperwork now.”

Que to today; call Dr. Office, knowing they now have the paperwork. Leave voice message. Recieve multiple faxed with Dr. Signature on them.. NO. CALL. BACK....

OH, and I am dropping out of my University Major (haven’t started yet so whew, caught that in time) to pursue a learning course to earn my Pharmacist Technician certification. And my doctor doesn’t have my vaccination records....

Needless to say, Fuck me, fuck my life, fuck it all. NOTHING has gone right this week. NOTHING. Tried to apply for a mortgage, a whooping $250,000 in a market that starts at $389,000. Checked for rentals. NOTHING.

I’m behind in writing, behind in just about everything, including rent. I owe for this month, and I’ve put nothing away for next month... Which increases too... So, ya. Mental health is important folks, venting is important.... and the final nail you ask? I have 0 friends. Literally no one near me I can go vent to, cry to, coffee with. I sure as hell can’t unload this on my mother and father, they might be losing everything. My sister is going for MASSIVE surgery in a few weeks... so.. fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK,

I can’t tell if I’m numb, or just in triage mode. I should be a balled mess in a corner, but I just keep moving.

Anyways, helps to rant. Helps to unload. Even if it’s just a thing on the internet. Makes me feel like I’m not alone. Ya know? I’m going to try to put words to page and maybe that will help? Don’t know, but it’s worth a try. Take care of yourselves, all of you. It’s hard enough out there.

#Kiera rants #venting it good for the soul #or something #please don't reblog

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butterflyinthewell · 6 years

Text

I take medication for hyperactivity. It’s a generic of Dexedrine. I don’t have ADHD, but I am very hyperactive to the point of zero concentration on any task, zero impulse control, almost zero emotional control and I will have several meltdowns a day instead of my usual 1 or 2. Picture a typical little kid and how wild they get, and multiply that by over 9,000 and you have me without my meds. I will say and do things I wouldn’t normally say or do, and not realize how shitty it was until after I already did it. If my brain says “Hey, scream!” I’ll scream before I can put the brakes on and go “no, you’re in a library!” (You can imagine how disruptive I was in school as a kid!)

The medicine slows my brain down a bit so I can actually stop myself from being impulsive (99% of the time) talk at a speed people can keep up with (and not hear a lot of mumbling) and hold onto a thought long enough to write it down or (try to) speak it out loud.

ANYWAY...

My psychiatrist said it was okay to just book my meds online when I need them instead of coming in to see her every three months. I last saw her face to face in June.

I got my meds via my medical group’s website in October, learned that it takes a few days to be filled and accounted for that next time.

Now in November (the 18th to be exact), I clicked my way through filling the prescription and no warnings or anything popped up. The phone rang on Monday (yesterday), and I rarely pick it up unless I know it’s going to be for me because we get so many robocalls and the nomorobo whatever thing won’t work for us for whatever reason.

Well, my dad being my dad talked to them came to tell me after, telling me they would call back in 10 minutes. Well the phone never rang with anything but junk calls the rest of the day. I pissed the day away sitting by the phone for a call that never came, got up early in case somebody called and again only got junk calls.

So I panicked enough to call the office myself, went through the song and dance of identifying myself and get told “oh, you can’t get more of your medicine until you see Dr. M again. You can book an appointment for February.”

I almost blew up in a meltdown and cried into the phone that this is an emergency, that I’ll be out of meds by the beginning of December. I explained I was getting my refill online and the site gave no indication of this. The lady put me through to someone higher up in the office and I explained the situation to her. She was super nice and said she was sending Dr. M a message and Dr. M would give me enough pills to last until the first available appointment in February if I book one now, so I did.

All this chaos happened because:

1) Dr. M said to my face in June that I’m stable mentally and don’t have to book appointments just to get my meds. I guess there was an implied but I still have to see you every 6 months that was not communicated to me directly.

2) The website did not indicate I needed an appointment, it just gave me a come pick your meds up anytime after such and such time / date.

This kind of bullshit is why autistic people like me can get so messed up in the medical or psychiatric system. I need exact, specific instructions because my brain will not pick up on implied meanings.

If you say I don’t need to be seen every time I need a refill, I’m hearing it literally, and to me that means I don’t have to book an appointment when I need more meds.

I need to be told, “I don’t need to see you every 3 months for you to get more meds, but you have to come in every 6 months so I can see you’re okay and don’t need your dosage adjusted.” (I haven’t needed a dosage adjustment for 30 years, but I guess it’s the rules Dr. M has to follow.)

I’m so glad I called, because I would have walked into the pharmacy tomorrow and probably had a public meltdown when the poor clerk had to tell me they didn’t have it.

I had a meltdown after I got off the phone because I don’t know if I’m going to get a call back or if I can still walk in tomorrow and pick up my prescription like planned. The time between now and February is pretty much going to get me the same number of pills anyway, but holy crud this is annoying. If my dad gets any appointments scheduled for that date it’s going to cause a ton of chaos. My sister might have to take him to his doctor while mom takes me to Dr. M..

This is the kind of crap that makes me crash and get super depressed / burnt out around the holidays. (And somehow it will all get blamed on me for not magically knowing all this info...)

I swear to all the fates in the universe that my family has the worst luck with the simplest medical things. If it can go wrong, it will and the worst time. The last few years it’s been dad’s insurance screwing up, but this year I guess it’s me being too dense to do the simplest little thing like fill a prescription.

#actuallyautistic #actually autistic #autism #medication #meltdowns #fml I hate this #phone anxiety #swearing

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phantomlionsjournal · 6 years

Text

Journal Entry 11/3/2018

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS JOURNAL MENTIONS SUBJECTS OF DEPRESSION, AND ANXIETY.

Holy shit it’s been a while people. I’ve been mostly active on twitter though, so please follow me there as well.

I’m going to be honest here, I’ve been having an on and off, yet crippling battle with depression for over a year now and recently it’s been really tough and it’s even been crushing me financially, however I believe I can overcome, and I can continue to overcome my depression provided I stay focused. I’ve begun drawing again, which is a good sign, and let me be the first to tell you if you’ve never had a problem with depression, are beginning to experience it for the first time and or know someone who is, indeed clinically depressed, this is no fucking joke, sickness of the mind is real. It may not be a gaping wound but it’s as real as the device you’re using to read this, the air you breathe and the ground you walked on to get here.

I’ve never been a HUGE fan of taking meds to treat depression, why? because over all I don’t make myself depressed, people fucking make me depressed, and if 98.9 percent of people fucking vanished tomorrow, guess what? My depression would be cured, not treated, but cured.

Granted there would be that awkward period where I would be figuring out what the hell is going on and if I should be running my ass to the nearest fallout shelter but upon discovery that only a few of humanity plus myself remain, a cascade of soothing relief would wash over me, and I would whisper at the new world “...finally”.

All that considered I feel like a guinea pig when doctors want to try all these fucking meds to “see what works”, and they don’t really know, all that training, and years of med school and the best these assholes can tell anybody is “see what works best for you”, and from then on it’s like rolling dice, no thanks, but hey if meds work for you then take them, just don’t flip your shit when the apocalypse comes and you eventually run out, forcing you to raid pharmacy after pharmacy, and with no one in the factories at that point to make the medication, you’re FUCKED(or they start cutting medicaid/medicare to the point that you’re fucked anyway), not me though because no matter how depressed I get sometimes, I’m a fighter, always have been, always will be, I will not give up the fight for my survival no matter HOW hard it gets, I may not go out with a bang, but I’ll go out fighting never the less, don’t believe me? Try me, I promise I won’t disappoint.

I have also come to accept and embrace that I may not be entirely sane, and I’m certainly a fucking maniac, but I’m a high functioning maniac, and I much prefer my methods of battling depression than what’s been manufactured by these second hand alchemists that make all these brain-wadding medications, and the overconfident doctors that prescribe them as I said before, my depression largely stems from having to put up with the world at large, and it’s equally depressing treadmill rat-race, so therefore the best treatment for me? Focus. Prepare. Prepare. Focus. Evade. Adapt. Survive.

Managing expectations is also another big one for me, it’s helped me quite a bit. This is a saying that I’ve been using for YEARS to train myself mentally as far as dealing with people and their bullshit is concerned “I can’t control anyone else, but I can control myself”,(before you make a comment Mr. Contrarian-Internet-Intellectual, hear me the fuck out here! You’re reading this in my voice aren’t you?)pretty basic yes, but it implies quite a bit, and if you’re dedicated enough then this is more than possible, in practice what this does for me as I’ve repeated it to myself over the years is prepare me for people’s irrational, erratic, and often overly illogical emotional behavior, remember what I said about managing expectations? that’s where this comes in for me as I constantly walk around expecting people to let me down, and be generally shitty and thus I’m never disappointed, you might have heard about “The Blessings of a Pessimist”, utilizing the attitude where everyone is generally shitty, when you actually encounter someone who’s not, and the interaction is worthwhile and even benefits all parties involved then you may find yourself pleasantly surprised, savor this feeling, for it won’t come along often.

Interaction with people if you’ve got depression, anxiety or both can be a huge pain in the ass so your first thought if encountered by some bigot or douche that can’t keep their big, loud fucking whore cunt mouth shut should be to ignore them, do not feed them what so ever, should be the first line of defense and hopefully the last.

Controlling how you react to people is fundamental to expectation management but mostly self-control, in short: Quick wit > Knee-jerk reaction. Fine line maybe but there is a difference, quick wit vs. knee-jerk reactions often straddle the line between tossing a passive aggressive quote you read on a social media image with a fancy nature background and all out cursing them out, try to channel those knee-jerk reactions in to quick wits by preparing one-liners in your head to respond to people with when they give you shit, and for you RPG fans out there, I know exactly what’s popping in to your head now and you’re probably predicting what my next lines of text will be before you’ve even read it.

That’s right you fucking nerd, prepare a menu screen in your head of your favorite one-liners and quips from whatever you can draw inspiration from, a favorite TV show, a movie or comic book, even a video game! Also try to avoid using curse words, and other foul language like racial epithets and so forth, even if you’re not cursing at them because some people are just easily triggered by the sound of bad words.

Then drum them in to your mind for whenever a sticky situation arrives, so if you absolutely can’t just resist the urge to respond because let’s face it sometimes when people feel ignored that might trigger them just as much, if not more than a response, so if you absolutely can’t help it, prepare that menu screen of responses in your head if you are unable to ignore them for some reason. Depending on your response will dictate how that person will perceive you, just remember, most random dickheads you’ll never see again in your life anyway but another key thing to remember is for the most part “the one that speaks first, loses”, so once someone tosses a random insult at you that might target your race, gender, etc. or judgemental passive aggressive bullshit, just remember, they’ve spoken first, so they’ve lost, but you can just as easily lose at this point as well, just as you might “win”, but try not to think of this in winning or losing terms really, just know that this is where you’re in the best position to pull a mental judo move and use their bullshit against them and to your advantage, as different responses will yield varying results, the following example happened to me recently..

...I’m walking down the street and I casually say “Hello”, because shocker, I actually conduct myself like a civilized fucking adult when out in public, and they respond “I don’t like you”, now before you call her a cunt in your mind, pay attention:

Me: Hello!

Cunt: I don’t like you.

Me: I don’t like me either!

______________________

My Sarcasm-Fu is impressive I know. Alternatively I could’ve responded with;

“That’s your problem”

“I like turtles”

“Shocking!”

“Oh well”

This noise

“You don’t say?”

I think you get the idea, basically, expect people to be shitty and miserable, respond accordingly, most likely they say these things to themselves in private and then say them to you, using you as a proxy to project their own insecurities, these types of people most of the time cannot fucking help themselves, so let’s swing things back around to the subject of depression...

Another good technique for battling depression: Hone. Your. Skills. I can’t stress this enough, if you’re good enough at something then you should be training yourself to be the best that you can at it, so much that you’re desired for it, and there’s no better feeling than people calling upon YOU for a particular skill or craft that you possess that they need access to.

Above all, perhaps the best way to beat depression: Keep yourself busy, and believe me you won’t have time to be depressed! Just know that, for the most part this is usually a temporary fix, eventually you’ll have to take a break and this is where the depression will bite you in the ass and drag you down and make you feel like you’re dragging twice your own weight around making it that much more difficult to function, it sucks ass, expect it to suck, but when you’ve got down time, this is where you’ve got to figure out how to combat depression when your down time arrives, in short; Don’t let your down time become down time! Yeah I know, depression puns, I’m an asshole, but seriously just remember you’re in control of your own life, you CAN take control of your depression, don’t let your depression control you. By medication or otherwise you can battle depression and you can win, no matter what you do just DO something! If you do nothing, then I guarantee you that you will become nothing.

Thank you for reading everyone.

Yours Truly,

PhantomLion

#depression #self deprecating humor #anxiety #mental health #mental disorder #positive mental attitude #warrior #phantomlion #phantomlion's journal #hone your skills #emotions #trigger warning

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thepatricktreestump · 6 years

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black & red

eighteen : tyler // trigger warnings and gender neutral reader throughout //

Medication bottles and sitting on couches, written prescriptions and tissue boxes, trips to the pharmacy each week and trying new breathing techniques, none of this was foreign to Tyler. He had been through it before, when his parents found out about his depression back in high school. He was forced to go through the same routine, and he had told the stories to Josh, about feeling in a daze, about overdosing sometimes, about Blurry trying to mess with his head. He didn’t tell y/n much though. He didn’t want them to worry any more than they already were. Plus he was doing this for them. He was trying one more time.

The thing about being on meds and talking out loud about his problems for Tyler was that Blurryface was never there for most of it. He was gone, as if hiding in the shadows. But whenever Tyler came home by himself and would screw open the bottles or start having dark thoughts, he would jump right back in again, not missing a single beat. It was infuriating and frustrating, as if just taking several steps back instead of moving forward. However, he was doing a little better. Tonight y/n was going to see a movie with Josh, and Tyler was stuck home alone, in the darkness of his room, black paint staining his pillowcase.

“Just walk to the bathroom,” Blurryface tempted in his raspy whispers. “It’s just that simple.”

“No,” Tyler closed his eyes, refusing to leave his bed. “I don’t feel like it tonight.”

“It’s been a month,” Blurry argued. “Those meds can’t hold you back forever.”

“Even if I did,” Tyler began. “Y/n took away my blades, I don’t even have anything to cut myself with.”

“You can dismantle your razor,” he pointed out. “You can use other things. You’re smart like that, you can figure it out.”

“Smart enough to know to stay in bed,” Tyler grumbled, turning over.

“I don’t like the medication you’re on,” Blurryface muttered. “Tell your doctor it’s not working.”

“You just don’t like it cause it makes it harder for you to control my body,” Tyler smirked softly. “You can control my thoughts, but not my actions as much.”

“Whatever,” Blurryface scoffed.

“It’s a win in my book,” Tyler shrugged, getting comfortable in his sheets.

“Are you sure?” Blurry insisted. “Cause right now, last I checked, your significant other is out on a date with your best friend.”

“Oh shut up, it’s not a date,” Tyler narrowed his eyes. “They’ve been friends since high school. They just want to hang out.”

“Without you?” Blurry inquired.

“It’s not like they’re going to do anything,” Tyler laughed. “Come on, they’re like siblings.”

“They share an apartment,” he reminded. “They’ve known each other for forever. You already know they talk about you behind your back. They’re constantly keeping secrets from you. They’re the ones who put you on meds. Probably to distract you from what’s really going on. They’re not scared of you because of me, Joseph. They’re scared of you because you might find out.”

“Find out about what?” Tyler rolled his eyes, although he was almost buying into the lie.

“About them,” Blurryface coaxed. “Why else do you think they haven’t gotten in your pants yet?”

“We’re taking it slow,” Tyler defended, face turning red. “And it’s none of your business in the first place, so shut up and let me sleep.”

“You fucking fool,” Blurry clicked his tongue. “You’re blind.”

“Listen, what you’re saying is ridiculous,” Tyler retorted, although he wasn’t even quite able to believe his own words, doubt flooding his mind. “Just go away already.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “But you know I’m right.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tyler rolled over, resting his head on his pillow once again. The black paint started to dismiss and Tyler’s brain started reeling. There was no way. Josh just wouldn’t do something like that to him. He heard his phone vibrating and he picked it up, smiling when he saw y/n’s contact. He picked it up immediately. “Hello?”

“Hey Ty baby,” y/n greeted cheerily. “I know it’s really late, I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tyler reassured quickly. “I actually couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh,” y/n’s voice softened. “I’m sorry. Uh, I was just calling to check in and see how you were doing. We just got out of the movie, it was really great. I kind of wish you could’ve came, I wished I could’ve held your hand at the scary parts.”

“You had Josh,” Tyler added, testing to see if they would fall for it.

“Oh god, no!” y/n reacted and Tyler laughed, smiling even wider at their reaction. He hoped Blurry was listening. He was silly for ever thinking that y/n could possibly cheat on him.

“No? You guys didn’t get all cozy while I was gone?” Tyler teased, just to go a little further.

“Hell no,” y/n replied with a chuckle. “I think I’d slug Josh if he tried to put an arm around my shoulder. I’m not one for the touchy feely bullshit.”

“You are when you’re with me,” Tyler pointed out.

“Ah but that’s you,” y/n sighed. “Not Josh.”

“Why? You’ve never cuddled Josh?” Tyler decided to test the waters and see how far he could go to prove a point. He really wanted to stick it to Blurry tonight.

“Maybe once in like high school when I was super drunk,” y/n laughed. “Why are you so keen on me getting cozy with Josh anyways, Ty?”

“Just curious,” Tyler mumbled.

“Hey,” y/n’s voice went soft again. “Has Blurry been bothering you?”

“Maybe,” Tyler admitted. “I don’t know, the meds do help, but he’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Just stay strong for me, okay?” y/n asked. “You’ll get through this. I’m right here beside you. Don’t forget that.” “I’ll try not to,” Tyler promised.

“You better,” they joked. “Now get some sleep. It’s kind of late.”

“It’d be easier if you were here with me,” Tyler whined playfully. “I miss you.”

“Where are you?” y/n asked.

“What?” Tyler wondered.

“Where are you?” they repeated.

“In my bed,” he explained. “Why?”

“I’ll be there in ten,” they whispered. “Hang tight.”

#black & red #blurryface #tyler joseph fanfiction

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