#i made an appointment when I was doing well three or four weeks ago

[larrysballetslippers]

.

[mrs-snape5984]

„You’re not alone, together we stand. I’ll be by your side, you know, I’ll take your hand…”

“Just stay strong, ‘cause you know, I’m here for you…” (“Keep holding on” by Avril Lavigne)

I decided to set a trigger warning on this post: Miscarriages, high risk pregnancies, ICSI treatments, traumatic wish for a child journey, hysterectomy. So, please feel free to skip the following x paragraphs, if you feel triggered by these topics. Thank you.

Those of you lovely people of Snapedom, who know me and my way of blogging about Severus and my personal hardships might have noticed, that I’m mostly venting about ME/CFS and the crumbs, which are left from my former life. Since I can’t do much about it right now, I decided to “fix” another one of my countless issues…an internal wound, which desperately needs to heal!

As some of you might remember, I’m a mother of three wonderful children. There are my eleven years old twins and then there’s my six years old daughter. My pregnancies were the result of a long and painful journey of ICSI treatments, several miscarriages, way too many tears, about ten surgeries - due to Endometriosis and myomas - which eventually ended in a hysterectomy four years ago.

My desperate wish for a child led me to some decisions and life choices, which I probably wouldn’t have made, if I would have been clearer…maybe more stable in my whole mindset. One of these choices was a totally over rushed marriage to a narcissistic man, who made me believe, that he wanted the same. Gosh…I’ve been so desperate and so fucking stupid! Well, at least I got my twins because of him.

I went to the appointment for the transfer of the embryos on my own. He didn’t want to join the procedure…and I should have known, that he was already saying “goodbye” back then.

The pregnancy was rough. I had to lie in bed from the 8th week of pregnancy until they were born as premature babies in the 29th week of pregnancy. The last 4,5 months of pregnancy, I had to stay in the hospital…fighting for my babies’ lives all on my own. The father of them had decided, that he didn’t want to be a father anymore…wow…

I don’t want to go further into details about this phase of my life…at least not yet. I commissioned my friend @alinearthp for this project and asked her for several drawings of the different phases of my journey to become a mother. This artwork will be the start of my healing process…and I’m incredibly grateful, that you’re doing this for me, Aline! I know, that you’ll need time to draw all these wishes of mine, but I’ll be patiently waiting for each of your breathtaking pieces of art, my dear!

So, for the next couple of months, Severus will accompany me on my path through this phase of my past…just like he did back then, when I spent months in a hospital bed in “Trendelenburg” position. During this period of my life - and to be honest, in so many other phases of the past 21 years, as well - I clung to my imagination of Severus in order to feel less helpless and alone. His resilience and determination have always been my inspiration to keep going through all these hardships, which life kept throwing at me. He’s the love of my life…and he will forever be the guiding light in my darkness.

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[doctorweebmd]

hello just in case anyone is checking in on where i am lmao:

i gave myself up until the end of labor day weekend to dick around (i.e. working on tptp) and not do things i need to be doing (i.e. everything else) with this self-imposed deadline being imposed as such because i have a LOT of shit i need to work on in the coming weeks. i actually am, like, 32 years old, and have a full time job in academic medicine (… well, ish, im a perpetual fellow) and have a TON to get done on top of just working INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO:

-> research that i am so so regretfully the principal investigator on and have funding for somehow so i actually have to do it and produce results

-> meeting after meeting after meeting for said research. Why is there so much politics in research. Why is medicine such a fucking joke.

-> leaving country in 2 weeks

-> prepping to leave country in two weeks including tying up loose ends at work, doctors appointments, meds, clothes on top of making sure everything is planned and updated for the travel itself because I planned the entire trip lmao

-> finish updating my CV

-> cold-calling and emailing local programs for jobs because you would think after four years of college, four years of med school, three years of residency, three years of fellowship and another one year of even more fellowship people would be falling all over themselves to recruit MY ass but FYI unless you have a large NIH grant or you have a personal relationship with program heads your ass is NOT getting headhunted. and also MD jobs worth getting never get posted about online because, as mentioned above, openings are rarely made public and if they are they're desperate to hire anyone which is often not a good sign. Anyway most people say have a contract in hand between December-February which is… something.

-> abstract for (conference) due in a month, for (conference #2) in two months

-> critical care boards in two months that i need to start studying for!!!

-> lecture series for (x) fellows development and execution that I don’t have the dates for yet…

… anyway. I’m tired. I’m hoping to have time to write when traveling but damn. These are non-problem problems because I’m privileged to get to do any of this but at the same time it feels like a lot to manage. The good news is since I started getting medicated like 6 months ago I’m not totally shutting down at the prospect of this, but it’s still a bit stressful. Sigh.

[gabbagepatch]

Wasn't a virus ~ 4-3-2024

Okay, so... I got a ~flare~

I didn't know this shit could flare. I figured the nerve pain had stagnated, apparently not. Honestly it's kindof scary, I'm trying to cope with the fear while waiting for the neurologist. I'm having a hard time. I cry almost every night. I'm really tired of dealing with this, I just want to be well. I'm okay-ish. I'm doing things I enjoy, spending time with my loved ones, etc. But at night it still hurts and that's really difficult. I'm very impatient to see the neurologist because I just want them to tell me I'm okay.

Four weeks ago when this started I had about a week of intense nerve pain and vomiting + other unsavory GI issues. Lack of appetite, malaise, brain fog, twitching, etc. It stagnated at a manageable mild-moderate discomfort via twitching and tingling. Then three days ago it ramped up again and last night I had an intense attack that echoed the first flare.

There was certainly some improvement from the first time though. The first time the burning sensation was nearly constant for 2-3 days with multiple bouts of vomiting. Last night after the peak of the flare it was manageable and I was able to get to sleep at the reasonable time. For reference, the first flare I was up until 6am.

I'm feeling worn out and poorly today with some unpleasant sensations in my face but otherwise it's still more manageable than the first flare. Hopefully this means the severity will keep decreasing until it goes away? It sounds weird but I'm a bit hopeful since this time is much easier than the first.

Me and my PCP suspect I have gadolinium deposition disease. The issues began within a week I received an MRI with contrast and my symptoms match it near perfectly. It's not an "official" disease, whatever that means, but if the shoe fits! I'm fighting to get a 24hr urine test so we can know for sure. I think it's kind of ridiculous that it's so difficult to get a test for a substance 15 million Americans receive every year.

My last therapy session is next Tuesday too, so I'll need to start looking for a long-term counselor soon. Another doctor to search for lol. Honestly the appointments make me feel better, like I have a witness and it gives me something to do. A goal. I miss having goals that weren't centered around my health.

I really appreciated my last therapy session, she helped me do mental exercises working through the death of my dog. She also helped me find some coping mechanisms to deal with the fear of having an undiagnosed illness. Her recommendation was to write down my symptoms, especially when they're making me feel isolated.

I'm feeling a lot of guilt about the stress this is putting on my parents. I was crying last night being held by my mom and said, "I'm so sorry, I never wanted to put you through this again."

She replied, "You're not putting me through anything. We're going through this together."

That made me feel a lot better. You can never completely silence the negative thoughts but that certainly lowered the volume. I love my mom.

──────────────────── 〔✿〕 ─────────────────────

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." - Matthew 6:34

──────────────────── 〔✿〕 ─────────────────────

[mcalhenwrites]

Some personal stuff below.

This trip... I knew it wouldn't be great. I wasn't looking forward to seeing my parents, I just missed my dog so much. I thought it would be nice to go to a couple of familiar places as well, like a wildlife exhibit and a couple of parks, before I left. Unfortunately, my dad had no problems jumping in and telling me to "shut up" or shushing me for no reason. Degrading me in front of people whenever he had the chance to boast about it. Misgendering and deadnaming me constantly. He even uses my dead name to EXCESS just to use it. He made me cry once. He has lied countless times. He gaslit my mom (only to slip up and admit that he was given the information she was making up by the same person by saying, "Oh well he didn't go with that bc [reason].") So tomorrow morning is likely the last time I ever see my dog in person. I came back and he had gained weight - which in his case is extremely bad for his back legs - due to barely ever getting walks. He had long nails, and I couldn't get an appointment until Saturday so I gave my mom the money and made the appointment. She keeps saying she doesn't need money for him. It doesn't help that my parents are extremely weird and uneducated so my only way to give them money is sending cash or checks via snail mail. And he needed badly groomed, my mom has mostly kept up with this but his back legs were in dire need of attention. I did what I could. Trimmed the parts that are rough from having to be shaved from hot spots - yes I know you don't shave a doublecoated dog but the VETS did it for a medical reason - and around his butt. Got his mats cut or combed out. He's a big fluffy guy now. But what happens down the road? I can't take him. I have worked myself to full capacity so much, and I can't get myself out of this trap. I'm not good enough to sell many books or earn patrons. So I'm stuck. I let myself have a little bit of money to buy some of my own things so my roommate doesn't cover them and give myself a few small treats here and there so I don't go mad. But most of my pay goes to saving for a car so I can keep my job, since I'm getting rides from three different people, and my roommate (one of my rides) owns an electric car that barely makes it to both our workplaces. Its battery drains faster in cold weather. I have a time limit before I might have to quit my job. (Again, I work two towns over and live in the country.) I'm so sad I don't have a house. I'm so sad I don't have a yard for my dog. I'm so sad I don't have income above $700/month. I don't know what to do. Sell books? I thought I'd work on writing during the time I visited, but this house is in poor condition, and it smells badly of mold, and I think that's flaring my fibro. I'm in so much pain, I started having pain in my heels again when that went away about four weeks after I moved out of state and never came back again. Until now. :/ I'm not sure what to do. I'm a failure. That's clearer every fucking day. I understand we are often powerless to change our situations, but... mine feels like it's my fault. I shouldn't have gotten a dog 10 years ago. It's not like I'm dealing with something beyond my control... I cause more bad than good in this world, that's how it feels. Edit: I will be very glad to return home, that's for sure.

[fallen-in-dreams]

CHAPTER NINE on AO3.

Chapters on Tumblr: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura.

Summary: Her descent into madness came after her friends were all dead and before she was sold off like livestock. To him. He knew a thing or two about madness. And there was peace to be found in the violence of that madness. Even if only for a time. Canon divergence AU.

Rated: Mature.

Chapter word count: 9,004.

Status: Ongoing.

Reminder: the tags/warnings are important.

Warnings: dark themes. Arranged marriage (not what you think). Eventual smut (level and degree of that warning being necessary is subjective). Death. Suicide talk. Self-harm. PTSD – expect some well-known symptoms and some not well-known ones. Please don’t read if you’re triggered by psychological &/or emotional-related trauma and effects.

Enjoy. ^_^

Tumblr version:

… Chapter Nine: Little Bits and Pieces of Lies. ...

.:.

When I heard that sound When the walls came down I was thinking about you About you

-- Skin, by Rag’n’Bone Man

.:.

The shift change was a few minutes late.

The guard sighed into the paper wrapping in his mouth, puffing out a few smoke clouds, trying and failing to form it into something recognisable. Last week, Yaeko had tried to show him how to make rings, but he wasn’t very good at it. Impatient, he looked back along the ridge of the tallest tower on Suna’s borders. The walls of his village were large and imposing above him. On ground level, he could still trail his eyes along the entrance where Yaeko was supposed to pop out of five minutes ago.

Bloody woman.

This was just a bad night overall. He had no idea how this particular kunoichi had ever made it as a genin, let alone her current rank of chunin. She was always late. She didn’t own a clock and slept like a log. He’d gone to wake her numerous times only to be kicked in the head, or somewhere more precious, as she startled into consciousness.

I shouldn’t have to deal with this anymore.

As a newly appointed Jounin, guard duty was supposed to be off his roster. But things had not been going according to plan for several years now. He ran a hand down the front of his flak jacket. There was just no getting used to how much more comfortable this uniform made him feel. The rank came with perks, including not having to do guard duty, but the village had been short-handed recently, with the increase in missions and training of more genin squads than usual. So, he’d volunteered. At least for a few shifts before his new team had been organised. There was nothing to do until then, anyway. Rumour had it, open war was upon them, and his specialty was in high demand, even in this Cold War.

He was a sensor.

This was why he felt it; a sudden spike of chakra that was barely there if you weren’t paying attention. He waved a hand sign to two nearby patrol guards, and they paused, also waiting to see what was going on. If it was another attack, they would be ready. The fires that had spread through their home had come from inside, but anything was possible.

All three guards tensed at the soft flash of light. A figure that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

The newly appointed jounin sighed in relief as their visitor stepped into view. Just beyond the gate there was a blind spot of darkness at night-time that even moonlight couldn’t fill. If you never did guard duty, you’d never know it was there.

“Sorry about that,” she said, looking anything but.

The guard stood to attention. “Lady Temari, everyone’s been worried.” He frowned, eyeing the way she was holding herself; her iron fan weapon was doing most of the holding. “And, if you don’t mind me saying, it looks like we have reason to be.”

Temari grunted at him. “I don’t need a medic,” she said, when he opened his mouth to speak again. “I just need to get home. I have to report straight to…” She winced.

He’d met her in person a few times and if there was one thing he’d learned about the oldest of the sand siblings it was that she hated being treated like she was useless. Nobody helped her. She helped herself. That was the rumour too. By the looks of her, she’d used up all her chakra just to get back and it was clearly embarrassing her. She shifted her stance, attempting to look more imposing. Her face was flushed and there were bruises and gashes on her person he was sure were hurting more than she let on.

No need to drag this out, I guess.

He nodded to her, and she visibly relaxed. “Understood.” He motioned to the patrol guards who were still standing in the same wary stance from before Temari had revealed herself. “I can’t leave my post but–”

“No,” she said, “you.”

Was this because he was a jounin? The other guards were chunin. A number of reasons came to mind, but he didn’t know what the big deal was.

“Come on,” she interrupted his thoughts. Temari started towards him, using her fan like a cane.

He nodded again and ordered one of the patrol guards to take his place until he returned. The blonde grimaced as he slid his arm around her. She stumbled and swore under her breath. They took a moment before he suggested using his own brand of the Body Flicker Technique. She seemed amenable.

“What do I call you, Mr Jounin Guard?” She asked as he manoeuvred them better so he could form the signs properly.

“My name is Arata, my lady.”

.:.

It was only an hour. It felt longer. Gaara carried Sakura’s sleeping form into her room after her breakdown, tucking her into the bedsheets, unable to leave her. For an hour. He just sat on the side of the bed, watching her, and resisting the urge to brush the errant strands of pink hair from her face.

She looks so peaceful right now. And he should leave.

But Gaara couldn’t move. Under normal circumstances, he’d feel like a pervert or creeper for hovering while she slept. But he wasn’t paying attention to her body. Not like that. Not right now. Besides, she was tucked up under the blankets. She was hidden. He just couldn’t bring himself to stand up. To move away from her. It felt like he’d be leaving her behind, or something. It was a ludicrous feeling, he knew, but one he felt, nonetheless.

It was an old story, for himself, how much he’d been worrying over her. Objectively, she was supposed to be his fiancé, so his concern was warranted. But there was a line he’d told himself not to cross. He’d never had cause to worry about that until now.

Gaara sighed as Sakura stirred suddenly. She pouted in her sleep, and he found himself smiling. Whatever she was dreaming about, it wasn’t horrid at least. Without thinking, he reached over and brushed those strands of hair away from her eyes and she sighed, settling down.

Don’t think about that.

Gaara looked around the room. It was a spare room, of course. There were too many rooms in this place. Growing up, he’d wondered if all the rooms were for invisible entities, just like the one that lived inside his head. He’d been too scared to check. After his father started trying to kill him, everything changed. His fear went away. When he returned to the family, he checked them one night only to be disappointed. They were just empty bedrooms.

There was a lesson in there, somewhere, about not fearing the unknown.

His eyes skimmed over what Sakura had done with the room, which wasn’t much since she owned so little. The back of the door worried him. What were all those numbers for? He narrowed his eyes. They were a tally. He didn’t understand it.

Finally, Gaara decided to leave. His presence wasn’t doing anything, negative or positive.

Sakura groaned at the same time he felt a flare of chakra that didn’t belong to her, himself, or Kankuro. It was too weak to identify, and he immediately thought of that Root shadow and, what is he up to now? But it wasn’t him.

Gaara took one quick glance at Sakura to make sure she wasn’t disturbed, and quickly left her room.

Kankuro came bumbling out of his room at the same time, with a stunned look on his face. Spotting Gaara, that expression twisted into a coy one. The redhead had just come out of Sakura’s room, after all. Gaara shook his head to silence his question. There were more important things right now. Kankuro nodded silently, and then barrelled down the stairs ahead of his brother.

The weak chakra flare was closer and stronger now.

“Temari.”

He followed his brother down the stairs and into the study at the forefront of the mansion. Surrounded by comfort and a conference table that his sister had once dubbed a war table, Temari stood in the centre of the room. She was alone. But there had been someone with her a moment ago. Gaara and Kankuro both let out a sigh of relief at the sight of their sister. Kankuro made a move like he was going to rush over to her and then stopped. The tears in her clothes, caked blood, and bruises were all obvious. She wasn’t standing under her own power either, her iron fan signature weapon doubling as a leaning post. Her right hand trembled ever so slightly, out of synch with the trembling of her left leg. Gaara swallowed heavily, trying not to imagine all manner of things she’d been through.

She’s alive, he told himself. And that’s all that matters.

Clearing his throat, Kankuro brushed off his hesitation and moved forward. “Temari, I–”

“Settle down,” she interrupted. “Don’t make a fuss.” She moved toward the largest chair in the room, controlling her trembling as best she could, before stumbling. Both of her brothers stepped forward now, moving to help but Temari held up a hand to stop them. She inhaled sharply through her nose and then sank into the thick, leather lined chair with a deep sigh of relief. “Just give me a moment.”

“Do you need a–”

“No.”

Gaara gave Kankuro a pointed look. But his brother just brushed him off.

“Where is the rest of your squad?”

“They’ll be here in the morning,” she said, not looking at them. “They’re worse off than I am. They’ll need the night to rest before making the journey back.” She closed her eyes for a few blissful, quiet moments before forcing herself to sit up. “I thought I should get this information to you as fast as possible.”

Gaara took the scroll from her outstretched hand, meeting her all the way so she wouldn’t strain herself. He gripped it tightly but didn’t move to open it. She raised her eyebrows at him and glared until he sighed and unrolled it. Kankuro moved next to him to read over his shoulder. After a moment, Kankuro made a distinctly unimpressed noise and moved away, while Gaara reread it carefully. Slowly. Again. And again.

“That’s some intel, sis,” Kankuro said, taking one of the other plush chairs and crossing his arms over his chest.

Temari nodded. “They’re on the move again and the daimyo is moving to intercept. Our spotters have lost their whereabouts.”

Gaara let that sink in. The night that Danzo took over Konoha, the Fire Daimyo called an emergency meeting with all the other daimyo. It was a strategic move to prevent the others from acting on the insurgence. The usurper took over with no consequences on the political and inter-village level. The old man had to know that not all the kage were happy about this betrayal. Gaara was not the only one. Even the Raikage had, allegedly, fought with his daimyo over it. But there was nothing to be done beyond complaining, behind the scenes. To publicly condemn Danzo’s actions, given they were sanctioned by a daimyo, would be too risky. It might even be seen as an act of war.

(It was moments like these in which Gaara missed Naruto most of all. He wouldn’t have taken this lying down.)

So, the Leaf Resistance received no help from anyone. Not officially. They fled their village, those that managed to, and roamed the five nations. Officially, they were deserters and were to be either killed or captured on sight. But the past few years had been very quiet on that front. Because they had received help. Gaara had given it to them. When he could.

That’s a complicated can of worms.

“Should we tell Sakura?” Kankuro asked Gaara.

“Sakura?” Temari sat up straight in the chair, wincing at the movement. “Sakura Haruno is here?”

Kankuro snorted. “Do you know any other Sakura’s?”

It was Gaara’s turn to wince. “She is here.”

His sister looked anxious all of a sudden. “Why?”

Kankuro snorted again, this time a little louder. “Because we have a traitor in the council.”

Temari’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Keep your voice down,” Gaara said. Sakura could wake up. They could gather the attention of the Root shadow outside. He felt the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind his eyes.

“Why is she here?”

“Danzo sent her,” Kankuro said. She scoffed but he continued. “He and our esteemed council decided it was high time Gaara is married.”

Temari raised her eyebrows at Gaara, and the redhead scowled at the light twitching of humour at the corner of her mouth. She stamped it down, though. “If we can’t trust the council–”

“We can trust Ebizō,” Gaara interrupted. “I have a deal with him,” he added, when his siblings looked sceptical. “And you forget all he’s done for the village.”

“We don’t forget, Gaara,” she said, pressing a hand to her side again and wincing. “We simply overlook it.”

“What deal?” Kankuro asked.

Gaara glanced up at the ceiling. “If he retires now, that will leave the council in chaos. I persuaded him to remain, to groom Councillor Ryūsa for the position.”

“And what does he get in return?”

Gaara didn’t want to say. It wasn’t horrible. It just wasn’t the most ethical bribe he’d ever made. Lord Ebizō had initially gone into retirement because of Lady Chiyo. He’d stopped caring about the cycle of ninja problems because of his sister. And now she was dead. Ebizō had always been the more rational of the two. If things didn’t improve, his retirement would become impossible. Or permanent, if he was ever attacked, out in that oasis all alone.

“Come on, Gaara!” Kankuro said. “You can tell us.”

“I know that. It’s just…”

“You keep him in the loop,” Temari guessed. “Even when you feel the need to hide things from other council members.”

“It is a mutual exchange of information,” Gaara said. He waved a hand between himself and his siblings. “Us, Baki and Ebizō are the only ones I trust.”

“You trust us enough to not tell us about Ebizō until now?”

Temari frowned. “Shut it, Kankuro.” She turned to Gaara. “What about Sakura? How does she fit into all these machinations?”

“She doesn’t.”

“How could she not?” She pointed to the scroll still in Gaara’s hands. “She deserves to know–”

“No.” Gaara returned her icy stare.

“Why?”

Gaara eased off on his stare but didn’t back down. His ability to protect the village lessened with every person who knew about that. He did not believe for one moment that Sakura Haruno would shout it at the top of her lungs, let alone pass the knowledge along quietly to the last people who should know. It wasn’t the point. But he’d promised Naruto to keep her safe. To keep anyone from the Leaf that ever came into his care safe. He did not know when or why it would happen, but the blond had been adamant. And Gaara would not deny the wishes of a dead man.

He closed his eyes, lightly rubbing a slight pain on his chest. Gaara moved to the third chair, feeling exhausted.

But was his silence truly keeping Sakura safe? What would she do if he told her? Would she try to escape and get herself killed trying to track those people down? She was so broken. It was clear to anyone who spent even a short amount of time around her. Could he believe she wouldn’t do something reckless, heedless of her own safety? And how was she even going to find them anyway? Nobody had, for two years. Gaara’s communications with them had been mostly one-sided. He had no idea, right this moment, how to contact them until they broke that silence themselves.

(But of course, he had been trying to, with no luck so far.)

He had no answers for any of that. But Gaara wasn’t an idiot. He knew she would find out eventually. His plans were in a delicate balance right now and pulling one thread from it could bring the whole thing down.

“We need to find out who the council traitor is first,” he said, his voice stronger than he felt. “That is our main priority.”

Temari looked like she wanted to argue more but thought better of it. She sighed and settled further into the chair, almost like she was trying to merge with it. Silence. The siblings all sat, twiddling their proverbial thumbs. Kankuro wanted to talk more about the state his sister was in. Gaara wanted this discussion to get to the point so he could order her to go see a medic. Temari just wanted a hot bath.

She sighed wistfully. “I didn’t know she was still in Konoha.”

Kankuro nodded, biting the inside of his mouth. “Nobody did, apparently. Fire’s best kept secret. Probably some sick game Danzo is playing.”

“How is she?” She asked.

Gaara understood that Temari was more empathetic to people than her reputation let on, but he was surprised by the concern in her voice. He wondered if it was because of what had happened to the Leaf as a whole. Or maybe she was being protective in remembrance for another Leaf shinobi she continued to pine for, long after his death. Gaara remained quiet, contemplating that while his siblings continued talking.

“How long has she been here?”

“I dunno. Maybe three weeks.”

“What has she been doing, missions, hospital–”

“The council wants her in the wedding plans.”

Temari scoffed. “Old farts.”

“I know right? That’s what I said!”

Their discussion moved from what Sakura was doing to what they planned to do with her. This façade of an engagement. How Gaara had been delaying the preparations. And landed on the pinkette’s thievery.

“Plus,” Kankuro pointed a finger at the air, “I’m pretty sure she’s been stealing ink bottles from Gaara’s study. She asked me for some once but that doesn’t account for how much more I’ve had to buy.”

Temari didn’t look convinced. “Why would she want ink?”

“She claims it’s for journal writing. Or maybe it was for writing letters. I don’t remember.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gaara interjected as Temari moved to reply. He wasn’t worried about whatever it was Sakura was using the ink for. He had a feeling it was personal, anyway. And if he could help by turning a blind eye, he would. His siblings looked mollified and fell silent. But eventually, Kankuro had to speak. It was a compulsion.

“She’s looking better though.” He waggled his eyebrows at Gaara.

Temari glared at him. “If I could get up without pulling something right now, I’d smack you.” She sighed as her brothers’ expressions grew grim. “About this thing with Danzo…”

That was another can of worms. Temari knew the alliance they had was just for show. But she was behind on why they were going along with it.

Kankuro lost his smile. “His shadows are up to something.”

Temari looked confused for a moment, then it dawned on her. “There’s a Foundation member in the village?”

“I forgot that’s their official name,” he replied, pulling a face. “But yeah, a Root member followed Sakura on this mission of hers. We’re keeping him out of sensitive areas of the village,” he added, when Temari looked scandalised. “And Gaara has a couple of Anbu trailing him at all times. The fucker gets around, let me tell you.”

Temari nodded, then sighed. “It seems I missed a lot.”

“Does that mean you’re staying now?”

“Kankuro,” she said snappily.

“Temari,” he mocked her.

“I have to–”

“No, you don’t,” he snapped. “There are other ninja in this village who can–”

Temari groaned, her voice rising as she interrupted him. “So, you’re fine with others getting hurt and maybe dying in my place while I sit here, holed up and doing nothing of value?”

“Yes! Yes, I am!”

She gripped the arms of her chair painfully, seething and glaring at him as he glared right back. Then she winced and clutched at her side. Temari took a deep breath, her face tinged red with anger. “Well, that’s just–”

“Keep your voices down,” Gaara said, echoing his earlier sentiment. He agreed with Kankuro, but as the Kazekage he couldn’t voice the fact that he’d rather send multiple squadrons out than risk his own sister. Even in front of family. Temari sat back in her chair, staring at the ceiling and Kankuro stood, now pacing behind his armchair. This wasn’t the reunion Gaara had been hoping for. But tension was a given among siblings, no matter their relationship. He waited a few minutes for tempers to settle and opened his mouth to speak again, but Temari beat him to it.

Her eyes had drifted in the direction of the internal staircase. She looked determined. “I want to see her.”

“She is asleep,” Gaara said, ignoring the way Kankuro smirked and waggled his eyebrows, clearly remembering where his brother had been when Temari had returned. “I do not wish to disturb her.”

And she was so exhausted, Gaara doubted she’d be lucid enough for an impromptu visit, even if Temari did wake her up. He had no idea how tiring the events of every day was for her. Especially one as jam packed with work at the hospital as the current day had been. Not to mention how she’d tired herself out with that meltdown. She needed to rest.

Temari nodded slowly. “Okay. In the morning, then.”

“You should get healed up,” Kankuro told her. “You’re no good to anyone in this state,” he added, when she growled at him.

“Kankuro is right,” Gaara said, and she sighed. “You could barely walk into the room and are clearly in pain.”

She glared at them both.

“Temari–”

“Fine. If…” She looked away, her cheeks turning red, “someone could help me to the medical core… thanks.”

Kankuro strode over to her immediately and Gaara stood and ducked to lift her slowly so she could stand. She winced again and he almost called his sand to help but decided to manually move her. They hobbled toward the front door.

Kankuro tapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got this. You need to rest. You look worse than you did yesterday.”

That was true. His own sleep had been even more strained as of late, as well. Gaara nodded reluctantly and moved out of the way as his brother shifted to guide their sister better. She would not be carried like she was a child, so he kept her upright and grunted under her weight. Perhaps it was her way also, of punishing him for those earlier remarks. Temari spared Gaara a soft look and he smiled at his sister.

“It is not weak to accept help when you need it,” her admonished as Kankuro took her away. He knew she’d heard him. He could only hope she understood.

.:.

The sound of heavy rain startled her out of her cosy dreams. Light streamed into the room and she blinked heavily, a warm smile on her face. There was no rain. It existed only in her mind. But that was okay. She’d slept well, all things considered. Surprisingly enough. Maybe it had something to do with how she’d exhausted herself the previous night. Sakura had cried herself to sleep a number of times over the years but never did it leave her feeling so refreshed, come morning.

Or maybe it was Gaara.

Even if it wasn’t, it made her feel warm. Safe. Content. She snuggled into the bed sheets and poked a tongue at herself, giggling softly into her pillow as she stretched out as far as she could. There was no logical reason for it but she felt ridiculously happy.

Ridiculous.

Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to question it. Sakura closed her eyes and rolled over, away from the sunlight. But the warmth of it on her back was comforting. All she cared about was that post-dream feeling she’d missed having for a very long time. This was what mornings were supposed to feel like. No headaches. No post-nightmare illusions. She wondered idly if the Prazosin she’d stolen from the hospital had anything to do with this but it was probably too early for the effects to kick in.

Not that it mattered, really. She sighed once more before holding her breath, eyes wide.

There’s a new chakra signature in the building.

She sat up quickly and froze, heart racing.

Who is that?

The familiarity of it struck her but she couldn’t place it. They flared and it spiked a few times as though in warning but it came with no war cry or burst of aggressive pulses. No hand signs were being woven.

Just saying, hello or I’m home. What the hell?

But they’d made it through the sealing barrier and whomever they were, Kankuro was with them so she knew it wasn’t an intruder. Sakura laid back down, following Gaara’s chakra as she sensed him leave his room and join Kankuro and the new (but not really new) person down stairs. She smiled. Her housemates had a really predictable sleep schedule.

She knew that Kankuro fell asleep pretty fast, when he was alone. In that case she simply had to wait for about ten minutes of silence, to be sure there were no conscious occupants of the room. Sakura smiled at that, though she was always careful to silence her room as best as possible. It made her wonder if Gaara (or Temari) had ever called him out on how loud he could be.

Gaara was another matter. He clearly still had a residual level of insomnia so if she wanted to sneak down to the first floor (for example), she had to make it look like she was going for a midnight snack. If he found her, she needed an excuse. She liked the snacks they stocked, so it fit.

Or icecream, she thought, remembering the previous encounter she’d had with Gaara. It still burned her with embarrasment. The council wanted to take the kunai back but she felt a weird sense of ownership over it that her anxiety let get out of control. She hated that her weakness was so obvious and that she’d overreacted to the thought of the kunai being taken away. She could still remember the uncontrollable bubble of emotion that raged right over her as she lost control of herself and her common sense.

She sighed.

I need to get up.

Sakura couldn’t lie in bed forever, and she was curious about this new chakra signature. After she quickly showered though, the anxiety had kicked back in so she decided to find out who they were later. Her hand had hovered over the door nob but she wasn’t ready to go out there and face any of them. The owner of the chakra had come upstairs and she realised with startling clarity that she knew who it was.

She still had memories of the tough, no-nonsense kunoichi that had clearly won the heart of her friend. Shikamaru. The thought of him made her eyes moist but she kept the tears from forming. Years ago, there’d been something special between Shikamaru and Temari, mixed in with their mutual griping. And while it hurt her heart to think of them never seeing each other again, she was glad the other kunoichi had survived.

Sakura pressed the palms of her hands against the door, instinctively pushing down her chakra past where she had already done so and listened to the sounds of Temari moving through the house, entering her own room. Followed by a few light crashes like she was tipping something over.

She’s okay?

Sakura wanted to go check but this was enough for now. She pulled away from the door, getting a face full of the messy scribbles of daily kanji she’d been adding to the back of it. She glared at them. No. She could add to it later. The clock on her wall told her it was almost breakfast time. Unlike dinner, breakfast seemed mostly an individual affair in this house.

But six o’clock was too early for her.

Sakura didn’t feel tired anymore though, so she decided to do something else. There was only one other thing that had been on her mind lately. But while she’d already perfected her ink bird creation and sent one scouting around the village, there was little Sakura could do without alerting either the Root shadow or other ninja to any escape attempt. It still felt important to her to use the creatures and find a path out, no matter what happened. But she also needed another provision, if she was ever going to accomplish this. Sakura needed poison. The land of wind had many avenues with which to explore this combat option, but very few that Sakura had any access to. After rattling through a long list of possibilities in her head, on how to do this, only one option stood out as even remotely feesible. She was going to have to find a venomous animal. A local one. A native. Something very dangerous. It was an exciting prospect.

The difference between poison and venom was simple: the former was used to refer to toxins that were injested (eaten, etc), and the later was applied to organisms that bite or sting to inject toxins. The way the foreign substance was introduced into the body was the key. She needed venom.

Sakura knew some poison jutsu learned from Shizune, but did not own any tools that could help. Everything she ever had on her person was highly regulated, even the travelling bag. Objects like her charcoal and a few trinkets she’d collected that had no combat value had only been allowed because they were inocuous and the Foundation members who poked and prodded it weren’t personally aware of any intimate connections they might have.

She had Sai’s charcoal, which he’d left behind in his apartment and was overlooked when Root ransacked the place. A ragged toad figurine that Naruto had startled her with once as a practical joke and she’d found in rubble near his destroyed apartment. A twig from Yamato’s Wood Release from that time he’d used his technique to help her save her dying plant; it had still been in her parent’s house, waiting for her. A fingerless glove of Kakashi’s, minus the metal plate; she’d found it not far from the last known location of his body. And a scrap of material she’d torn from Sasuke’s mostly burnt Konoha headband that was going to be thrown out after a Root member was caught keeping it as a trophy. These items had each been carefully collected over time, starting with the charcoal during her first time free of the Root headquarters.

Sakura ran her fingers over the travel bag without opening it. The urge to do so was strong though. But no, they were best left covered and out of sight. She had trinkets and nothing useful for what she planned to get out of her stay in Suna. She hadn’t gone out of her way to procur weapons or poisons that Danzo hadn’t assigned to her or she hadn’t stolen, in years.

The preparation this kunai was going to need was more complicated than simply dipping it in venom, so her resources were limited. Trying to get everything she needed would draw too much attention.

I can handle this.

She’d had larger stumbling blocks. She just needed to focus on the things she could do more easily, right now. But that venom was non-negotiable.

Sakura had already practised giving instructions to the ink birds she sent on reconnaisance, so she imagined telling one to bring her a poisonous snake wouldn’t be difficult. She just needed the right tools for this job. Ink based tools, to be precise.

Sakura knelt down on the floor of her bedroom, tucking her feet under her bum and opened the stopper for the ink well, laying out the scroll as usual. She didn’t need to reference the book to get the image and proportions right this time. Practice made perfect but only if you were capable of it. She would just have to deal with what came out of this. But the repetitive motions had afforded her more leeway. She could even experiment with the shape more than before. She ran through the familiar movements, bringing the bird to life first and she smiled as it cawed at her.

“Sshh!” She held a finger to her lips and it obediently dipped its head in a show of what this weird version of anthropomorphism would call compliance. It had been loud, but there was no noise from outside her room. No feet rushed to find the source of the noise.

Sakura sighed in relief. “Keep quiet, okay?”

The bird dipped its head once more and flapped its wings.

“Okay.” She cleared her throat. The bird was larger than the rest as she’d modelled it after a vulture (bad artistic skills notwithstanding), though it was still smaller than the real birds of the species. She needed it large enough to catch a viper snake but not so large that many people would be drawn to it. It occurred to her that maybe this bird wasn’t enough. Wherever it found a snake (and Sakura was mostly sure there were some in a sanctuary within Suna itself, but maybe not) it had to grab it without alerting any humans in the area. Or any jutsu that could alert humans.

So another ink animal would be needed to accompany it.

Snakes had numerous natural predators, not the least of which was other snakes. It was perfect.

The size concerns for the ink snake were the same for the ink bird. She settled on forming a few generic looking snakes to test, as she’d done many times for the bird, but didn’t need to do it as much. They were a far simpler design. The snake she settled on reminded her of the viper in the book she’d borrowed from Kankuro and she was proud of how much better she was at that.

Still no better than a five year old’s drawing, mind.

Sakura tested the snake by telling it to leave the kazekage mansion for a few minutes before returning. Her heart raced as she watched it go, her eyes drifting to the clock on her wall as she counted out the seconds. She waited, with the ink bird impatiently hopping around and pecking at her floor (what was up with that?), and waited. Eventually, the snake slithered back in through the open window and she had to muffle a woop of excitement.

“Yes,” she said with a soft hiss and held her hand out to the snake. It moved to her without hesitation and coiled around her wrist, moving gently up her arm. She’d never held a real snake before so Sakura had no idea if these smooth and dry sensations were from the texture of the ink or just her imagination. It felt so soft though, as her poor attempts at scales were not even scales. But she couldn’t stop grinning.

The ink bird hopped over to her and tapped at the ink snake which caused the faux reptile to raise up and hiss at its attacker. It was more of a gurgling sound that only sounded like hissing if you really wanted it to.

“Hey,” she snapped. “Settle down.”

The bird gave her a baleful look that only made her chuckle at it. How did the damn thing have so much personality?

Maybe it stole mine.

That thought caused a new round of giggles from her. Her creations were so sloppy compared to what Sai could’ve done but the immensity of pride she felt over them could not be quashed. She hadn’t created anything for herself in so long, it felt like a lifetime since the last moment she’d ever felt this proud of herself. Sakura couldn’t remember the last time but logically it was from before Danzo’s takeover. Perhaps in the midst of battle or an accomplishment while studying more difficult medical jutsu.

It didn’t even matter.

She felt so free in that moment. So weightless.

I feel like I can take on the world.

If she could recreate these things then her plans were going to be so much easier.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” she said, and both bird and snake facsimiles turned to face her. “I need a venomous snake. A real one. But…” She didn’t want it dead but Sakura also had no experience dealing with live snakes. They were dangerous, even if you chopped off their head. She could use the ink animals to subdue it but there’d always be that underlying fear that it would break loose and bite her. It was not rational for them to bring it back alive.

Sorry.

She sighed. “Let’s try for a viper – they’re native to the desert. Work together. Find something within Suna if you can, but stay out of sight.” She paused. “And kill it first. Quickly. But keep it constrained at all times, and bring the carcass to me, but only if I’m alone, like in this room. Just… don’t be seen.”

No reaction. Their lifeless eyes just stared at her. It was kind of creepy, but she’d prefer these to her look-alike mirage any day. “Now,” she barked.

They moved immediately; the bird hopped up to the window and waited for the snake to slither up to it. Under their own, respective power, they disappeared. Gone through the open window. Sakura watched them vanish, now feeling morose. Her mood dimmed. She had no idea if and when they would return, but despite this, was confident none of this would be in vain.

.:.

There was no excuse to delay it any longer. The day had begun. And like it or not, she had to return to her previous obligations. For now. Fresh on the high of having finally sent her ink creatures out to capture and kill a snake for her venom, Sakura dressed (having already showered), and then tentatively made her way downstairs, knowing all three of the sand siblings were waiting for her.

They were in the kitchen.

Sakura smelled the fried breakfast from the top of the stairs and on the last step, her stomach gurggled painfully. She walked into the kitchen and stopped immediately, her body tensing as one of the figures in the room turned and threw themselves at her. Normally, she’d have ducked out of the way and counterattacked but Sakura found herself rooted to the spot as Temari embraced her. The pinkette didn’t hug her back, despite all the alarm bells ringing in her head, reminding her she probably should. It was a weird way to feel torn. But she did relax into the blonde’s hold and waited her out instead of trying to push her away.

“Come on, Temari,” Kankuro said eventually. “Let her breathe and eat something before you attempt to suffocate her, at least.”

“Sorry.”

Sakura plastered a fake smile to her face as Temari pulled away. The blonde winced immediately.

Bad fake smile.

She was ushered over to the island in the middle of the kitchen, next to Gaara, who gave her a small smile that she easily returned. It seemed they were all waiting for her to do or say something.

“Thank-you,” she whispered, when Kankuro handed her a plate ladden with fired bacon, eggs, and tomato.

“Anything you want to add?” He asked, and she chose some extra bacon and some onion. Lots of it.

Sakura smiled around her food as the siblings fell into silence, thankfully not all staring at her now.

Well this is fun.

.:.

After breakfast, a knock on the door signalled the arrival of Matsuri and Yukata, who had taken over supervisory roles of escorting Sakura to the wedding planning. Gaara had been able to get Sakura out of most of these ridiculous days, but the council had insisted she attend a few days a week, and today was one of those days. He watched her face fall when she realised, but then lighten up when Kankuro flung the door open to reveal her new escorts.

Matsuri and Yukata greeted Temari warmly, clearly having not realised she was back, then did their duty and escorted Sakura away.

Silence fell in their wake. Not that there had been a rabble of noise before then.

Kankuro whistled. “Well, that was interesting.”

Temari’s confusion was evident. She was biting her bottom lip and staring at the door like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. Gaara felt the need to tell her everything. So, he did. In short, stilted sentences, but leaving out all the intimate moments he’d had with Sakura. Just the highlights of the important things.

Temari let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, fuck me.”

Kankuro laughed and coughed at the same time. She ignored him.

“This complicates things,” she said. “How much have you told her about this fake engagement?”

“He’s been avoiding her,” Kankuro said.

“I have not.”

The brunette just laughed.

“She joins us for dinner every night,” Gaara said. “And… I may have. A little.”

Except for moments like last night. Which they didn’t need the details of.

Temari snorted. “Well, if it’s from some misguided sense of not wanting to get close to her since this marriage thing is clearly a sham, then stop it.” She held up a hand to stop his retort, if in fact he meant to reply when he stood taller and opened his mouth slightly. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that by avoiding her, you might be doing more harm than good? That it could be interpreted as her not being good enough. That you might as well be strangers?”

“Aren’t you overreacting?” Kankuro asked.

“No,” she snapped.

The emotion on her face startled her brothers. Gaara remembered Temari had been on good terms with Sakura several years ago but that hardly equated to the level of protectiveness rolling off her right now. Again, he wondered if it was misdirected concern because of that Leaf shinobi she had grown close to.

“I cannot speak to the reality for those on the front lines,” Gaara said. “She went through… something. I don’t know.” He sighed. “She is not the woman we recall.”

“But–”

“But,” Gaara began, drawing the word out. “I have no intention of allowing harm to come to her for as long as she remains our guest.”

“You should tell her that.”

“I want to,” he said, and sighed again, running a hand over his face. “She is strong but fragile. Anything I say may set her off. She seems so delicate. Like a battered flower more than the emotional teenager from my memories. Last night, she broke down over a kunai that was meant to kill her. I do not wish to add to that.”

“Look,” Temari said, “I can’t say what everyone under Danzo’s tyranny has gone through, but from my own personal, subjective and limited experience with anything to do with that regime, I think that whatever you can imagine she endured, the reality was worse.” Her brothers shared a confused look as she continued. “I’ve heard rumours; nothing that can be corroborated. The Foundation are very good at brainwashing techniques. The really barbaric kind of techniques.”

Kankuro groaned. “What does that mean?”

“Danzo is an expert in sealing jutsu,” she continued, ignoring Kankuro and addressing Gaara. “Rumour has it that he implanted every Root member with his own personal sealing jutsu. I can only imagine what kind of invasive things he’s done to others, including Sakura.”

“Where did you hear all of this?”

“Around.”

“No wonder she is the way she is,” Kankuro said. “I’d have run off by now, in her place.”

Gaara knew from his own experience that a broken mind was easier to predict than most people believed. She had nowhere else to go but back to Konoha. It was familiar. And she likely had no idea the Resistance even existed. What else was she going to do? And he knew that runaway Leaf ninja were not spared quick deaths. It still boggled his mind that she was still a part of all that though.

“Anything’s possible,” Temari said, leaning back against the island in the middle of the kitchen and crossing her arms. “The human psyche is really complicated.”

Gaara didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but these things needed to be said. “She needs therapy.”

“Therapy?” Kankuro was confused.

Another thing he had to explain.

They both gave him strange looks.

“Maybe you could be her therapist,” Temari said. She raised an eyebrow at Gaara when he baulked. “Or maybe I’ll do it.”

“She’ll have to be willing,” he said.

“How to convince Sakura-san to go to a mind medic. Hm.” Kankuro rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He was clearly drawing this out for dramatic effect. “Well, I’m drawing a blank.”

Temari scoffed. “You’re always drawing a blank.”

“There’s no such thing as a mind medic,” Gaara said.

“Oh? I guess I just assumed…”

“Then what was all this talk for?”

“Civilian therapist.”

“Eh, I don’t know about that, Gaara.”

The redhead scowled. “I want to be honest with her. But… I don’t know how.”

“How she’ll take it?”

He nodded. “The civilian therapist said not to force or manipulate her into it. She has to do it willingly. And knowingly.”

“You spoke to a civilian therapist on her behalf?”

Gaara felt his face heat up. But what he was so embarrassed over, he didn’t know.

“Well, at least it’s a start.”

That was that, then. What they needed to do was convince her in a way that didn’t back her into a corner.

“How much of this do we tell her?” Kankuro asked.

“Only what’s necessary,” Gaara replied. “We don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“And we need to kill that Danzo bastard,” Temari said. She rolled her eyes when Gaara raised a non-existent eyebrow. “Don’t try to convince me you’re not planning on it. This isn’t the world that Naruto wanted. And it’s his vision you’re trying to uphold. Everything you’ve been doing behind the scenes, apparently with Lord Ebizō’s approval, has been leading to Danzo’s head on a spike, right?”

Gaara sighed, nodding.

“Then it’s like I said: we need to kill that Danzo bastard.”

“Hell yeah!” Kankuro let out a whoop.

“Let’s hope it all goes according to plan.”

“Don’t be a wet noodle, Gaara.”

“Don’t forget we still have one or more council traitors to deal with first. We can’t move against Danzo until they’re disposed of.”

Temari smiled. “You really are a wet noodle, Gaara.”

He shook his head but couldn’t suppress a smile. They fell silent for a moment. The smell of breakfast still lingered in the air.

“This feels strange,” Temari said. “Talking about Sakura like this behind her back,” she added, when her brothers looked confused. “I know we don’t mean anything by it, it’s just… after everything that’s happened. I think we’re all a little broken.”

Gaara stood up straighter, unable to prevent the pang of guilt he felt at the reminder that he still sent Temari out there in this climate. His sister was too stubborn to just sit on the bench and wait it out. She had also lost someone she loved, just as Sakura had. The Nara boy whose given name Gaara could never remember. Temari didn’t even have the closure of knowing who killed the Leaf ninja, let alone how it happened.

He was just gone.

And that is why she still goes out there.

“You should ask her on a date,” Kankuro said suddenly. He blushed as they both turned to stare at him. “Well, he should.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Temari said, impressed. “He could do it under the guise of getting to know her better because of the engagement.” She poked Gaara’s arm. “Which you will do, regardless. Date her, talk to her, and try to figure out how we can help her in the meantime.”

He sighed and nodded. Gaara wasn’t opposed to the idea, but there were so many ways this could go wrong.

“This is cool,” Kankuro smiled widely. “And if they really hit it off, maybe it won’t be fake anymore.”

Gaara just rolled his eyes.

“In the meantime,” Temari said, rubbing her hands together in a mock evil genius gesture, “go get that date organised.”

“When I return tonight,” he promised, before turning on his heel and leaving.

His siblings watched him leave.

Kankuro gave Temari a one-armed hug. “Aaww, he cares about her.”

“Get off me.” She shoved him away, ignoring his yelp when Kankuro fell over. “Brothers.”

.:.

Where the hell are they?

Sakura had just returned from her day of hellish wedding plans and one of the few things that had gotten her through the day was the hope to see her ink creations returning with a dead snake in her bedroom.

Weird kink.

“Perfect for someone so fucked up.”

Sakura glanced toward the door to her closet where the mirage stood, a maniacal grin on its ugly face a shiver running down her spine. She tried standing up to the damn thing, but it made no difference. It freaked her out. Old and new pain.

“Just admit it: your little experiment failed. You took drugs to sleep better but you’re as fucked up as ever.”

“Shut up.” Sakura started pacing her room. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just a mindless, stupid, ugly mirage.”

Not mature, but she didn’t care.

The figure floated toward her, and she stepped backward.

“You’re regressing,” it said. “Letting your fears barricade you in this room. Because you know you don’t deserve anything better.”

“You’re wrong.”

It cackled.

Shaking, Sakura moved toward the window and turned away from the ugly mirror that was the mirage. It was like turning your back on an enemy when you know they have a kunai in their hand. Her own kunai was currently tucked in the window frame. She stroked the handle as it sat in the grooves of the frame, lovingly. There were no distinguishing marks, because it had been procured for a man whose final mission was to sneak into the hidden sand village for assassination, but she liked the blandness of it.

And soon it’ll shine. Soon it’ll sing and shine and kill. With poison.

She smiled at that, forcing herself to ignore the mirage, hoping it had disappeared behind her back.

The sunset was still a little while away, so she just stood and watched the light patters of the bright rays as they slowly changed colour to signal the end of the day. A soft breeze made her shiver, but she embraced it. Even the occasional shadowy hint that her Root stalker was nearby didn’t lessen the contentment she felt as she stroked the kunai. Over and over again.

Blessed silence.

And then the sun fell from the sky.

When she finally heard Gaara return and climb the stairs to his room, Sakura pushed away from the window, leaving the kunai behind. The mirage watched as she grabbed the stick of charcoal from her travel bag and wrote the kanji for twenty-four on the back of the door before leaving the room. She wasn’t going to get anywhere just hiding out with her broken psyche. It grinned at her, like it was silently challenging her to do what she was about to do. Or telling her she was too chicken to even try.

I’ll show you.

She drew a deep breath and then threw her bedroom door open. Adrenaline drove her. She moved, forcing herself not to overthink it. If she stopped and ran through the ramifications of what she was about to do, in her mind, she would not be doing it.

Now or never.

Sakura knocked on the door. His door. No hesitation. No fear. Even as she clasped her hands together in an attempt to control the trembling. Noise from within. She gulped. And forced a smile to her face as the door swung open.

Gaara looked a little surprised to see her. She supposed if her chakra wasn’t currently suppressed instinctively, he’d have sensed her coming.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

Sakura cleared her throat. “Can we talk?”

Gaara moved to let her into his room and closed the door. “I was hoping to speak with you soon.”

“You were?” She was surprised.

Gods this is nerve wracking.

He looked a little nervous now too.

“We should spend some time together.”

What the hell was that?

Her eyes widened. He just blurted it out. The edges of his ears were tinged pink, and his face was slightly flushed. It was cute. He was cute. Incredibly so. She had to hold back a grin. Her heart was racing. In a good way.

“Like a date?”

He nodded. She didn’t think anyone’s face could get that red, that fast. It made her swell with pride. Maybe she could have a little fun with him after all. If he was up to it. If he even knew what that meant. But no matter how excited he was making her; Sakura still felt a bundle of nerves eating at her stomach.

“Okay,” she said, trying not to stutter. He let out a sharp breath and a genuine smiled lit up his face, making her face warm. She tried to return the smile as nonchalantly as possible. “Yeah. I’d l-like that.”

Did someone raise the thermostat? It just got incredibly hot in here.

.:.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Twenty Nine.

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven  Twenty Eight

Words - 5,427

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Angel's POV

"The soothing, relaxing, vibrating girlfriend," I hum softly to Edie, while she lies naked on top of me, shaking yet boiling hot. Flu is a fucker, and right now it's fucking her big time.

"Don't, don't make me laugh or I'll start coughing again!" she exclaims, before doing just that, hacking her lungs up. I reach over to the nightstand and pick up her bottle of cough syrup, which she takes a mouthful of before I stretch to return it there and continue idly stoking her nakedness. Lying against me like this is very soothing for her since she's almost permanently boiling hot, and with my body temperature being that of a stone, I work well in reducing her raging fever. She's been sick for three days now, and when I dropped the note in to Tyrell Cleaves at the CD he wasn't impressed, even questioning Charles and his worth as a doctor.

I stayed around for the phone call he made to Charles, and stood there laughing quietly when my 'father' blasted him with a barrage of accolades and then asked him if he'd like a diagnosis for his ignorance, because he'd be happy to give him one. 'The letters after my name actually mean something, you know, you dull-witted oaf!' Charles raged at him before hanging up. I was in hysterics as soon as I got outside of the building. Edie laughed too when I'd arrived home later that night and told her.

"You know, I actually wanted to book a little time off work so I could spend some time with you, but this wasn't exactly what I had planned, being so sick I can hardly fucking move," she complains, her shudders still not stopping.

"In turn, I hate seeing you like this, knowing there ain't much I can do about it," I lament, stroking her damp hair and kissing her head. She's all clammy with sweat right now.

"Isn't much you can do? Angel, you've been looking after me for the last three days, putting me first when you can around having to go to work and rest in the day. There isn't a single other thing you could be doing for me that you aren't already. Hell, you're even foregoing a full day's rest to make sure I'm okay," she tells me, moving to kiss my cheek and then groaning in pain. Even though it was over one hundred and thirty years ago, I still remember only too well how crippling having the flu is. Edie lamented that she felt like she'd been beaten all over with hammers, she ached so much, which is just how I felt when I was bedridden by it for ten days as a human.

"I suppose you're right. I forget how wonderful I am sometimes."  

“Oh, such modesty.” Her joke makes me laugh quietly, reaching for the cool wash cloth and dabbing her forehead with it again. Lying here, being attentive and talking to her is about all I can do at the moment, since she's too sick for me to take her out anywhere or enjoy rolling her around the bed in the name of wild sex. I understand that she feels rotten, so I'm not going to pester her for it, although I’m horny as fuck. It’s here that I suddenly have an idea after looking at my watch and seeing I have to be at work in an hour from now. I'll go in today, but after tonight I'm cancelling my appointments for the next week, so I get to spend more time with Edie since she isn't working at the moment either.

I have all eternity to tattoo people and whatever other careers I might go into in my immortal time here, but I don't have all eternity with Edie, sadly. I want to enjoy her as much as I can, so take great pleasure in telling her of my plans upon my arrival home six hours later, finding her lying in the bath fully submerged. I just stand in the doorway and look at her for a few moments as she lies with her head under the water, before she obviously feels me right there and emerges to give me a big smile. No other human has ever captured my interest or my heart as much as Miss Bailey here.

"Are you hovering for a reason?" she asks, before puckering her lips at me. I go over to her and plant a kiss on them before beginning to undress.

"Just thinking how lovely you are while deciding to interrupt your bath or not," I tell her.

"I see you've made up your mind there then," she nods, as I remove the last of my clothes and slide into the hot water behind her.

"I have, and I also made up my mind on something else, too. I've cancelled all of my appointments for the next week so I can spend all the time I want to with you. I have all eternity to work, I don't have all eternity with you.” Wrapping her in my arms, I kiss her head, noting that she feels a little cooler now, fever wise.  

"You didn't have to do that, I'm not much company anyway at the moment, and also won't it be bad for business, you just clearing your schedule for the next week? Your clients will be so disappointed," she states, turning to look at me with a little concern.

"They've all been rescheduled for later times over the next month, so no one is going to be disappointed. Besides, you should know by now that you're the only human I give a shit about," I assure her, watching her smile before she rests her head back against my shoulder. Tonight is the start of the nights to follow where Edie and I lie together, be it in the bathtub, the bed, or downstairs in the back yard when she's feeling too hot, and talk about anything and everything.

"I met Eric when Ursula visited a vampire who used to live in his former nest. I thought he was the weirdest vamp I'd encountered, but it was that difference in him that I ended up liking. I mean there's no doubt about the fact he's a vampire, but he has good human attributes too that some vampires lose forever. He's savage when he's pissed off or in combat though. One of our favourite things to do shortly after we met him was to go and kill the reanimated together. I remember one time just for fun, me, him and EZ went into the middle of Vegas with machine guns and deliberately stood there in the street firing off round after round into the air to bring out the dead, and then tore them all apart," I explain in reminiscence as we sit on the large and ornate wrought iron bench in the back yard a few more days into her sickness. She wanted to know more about how it was back when the disaster had struck.

"How did you kill them if you couldn't drain them?" she questions with interest, pulling the blanket she's wrapped in around herself a little tighter. She says she feels cold, yet her skin is like a furnace. At least she's stopped throwing up for the time, six days in now.

"We'd tear their heads off, or just punch them straight through the skull. That was the only way to kill them, a direct blow to the head. We used to make their heads explode everywhere, it was fun. Ursula came with us once and recorded it on a video camera. She said it was like her version of a normal mother filming her kids' graduation. I've no idea where the tape is now, I even looked for it earlier. What I did find, though, are my Godfather trilogy DVD’s. I remember you said you’d only seen the first one.” Immediately, her eyes light up.  

"Ooooh, yes! But not until later, as right now I’m really enjoying out conversation, now that I finally feel I can concentrate better.” She's been a little out of it with the flu medicine she's been taking recently, but after Charles read the labels on the bottles and packets, he promptly put them in the bin. He told her all she needed was ibuprofen to lower her temperature and ease her physical discomfort, and tea tree oil to help with her sinus trouble, which would also help cleanse her of germs. He bought both for her himself, and I'll never forget the lecture I got when he arrived back. 'I don't know what you bought all of that highly caffeinated and sugar laden crap for! I bloody told you not to, quite specifically, too! All this modern witchcraft medicine, these pharmaceutical companies and their money-making chicanery, it's enough to make me want to spit!' he fumed while heading upstairs, leaving me laughing in his wake. I love how he denounces anything he doesn't think is beneficial to medicine as witchcraft.

"I know what we haven't done and said we'd do, look up ideas for the tattoo you want here," I suggest, moving the arm that's around her to reach down and trail my fingertips over the small scars on her chest.

"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten all about that! Let's go now, I feel better for getting some air anyway," she replies excitedly, standing up. We head back inside and up to my room, where I switch my computer on and then pull her down onto my lap to begin looking at images once it's loaded up.

"Look at the date, we've been together properly for a month today," I tell her, after noticing the time and date icon load at the lower right-hand side of the screen. Her face is a picture of surprise.

"A month, really? Is it that long already?"  

"It is, happy anniversary, even though it's lame to have one for your first month," I tell her, giving her a kiss.

"Yeah, pretty lame. That's why I'm not returning the sentiment. And to think you're a vampire too. I dunno," she teases softly with an eye roll, making me laugh. I'm always amused when she mocks me, because it's good to hear. I can't have banter with humans; they're all too scared of me. Edie isn't though, and I love it.

"I'll be mean to you for a while to make up for it then," I joke, still laughing a little.

She leans to kiss my head, her nails combing through my hair. “That’s better.” We sit for an hour looking over different designs and ideas, with Edie pulling very thoughtful faces as we work through the various themes.

"What about if I did something that went down both sides of your chest, say from here to here," I suggest, trailing my finger from her collarbone to the top of her breast where the white lines run to.

"I don't know, I don't want it to be anything too big or bold, but now you're making me start to worry it'll look funny just on one side," she says, looking down at her chest.

"Well, I'll draw out two of whatever you have done and do one first, and then if you want the other, I'll have the line drawing right there. You need to decide what you want first though.” She doesn't make that decision tonight, getting a headache after looking at the computer for an hour and wanting to go to bed after that.  

She falls asleep quickly, and so as not to disturb her I head downstairs and wait for Ursula to arrive home. Heading to the kitchen, I pull out some fresh cuts of meat from the fridge for Icarus and Thor, throwing them into their bowls. When I whistle for them, they come running just as I expect, but just five seconds after they've put their heads down to eat, they're startled by something none of us expected. That something is for a bloody and beaten EZ to open the kitchen door and come crashing through, swaying on his feet before falling. I catch him before he hits the floor.

"What the fuck happened to you?" I ask as I haul him up and kick out a chair at the kitchen table to sit him in.

"Ten other vampires, back there right at the bottom of the main road just before I was about to turn up to here. I knew there was about four of them lurking as soon as I turned the corner, the other six caught up pretty quickly, though. I can't talk… I need blood," he grunts, holding a hand to where he's obviously been stabbed in the lung with something silver. Knowing Edie is sick and sleeping (and selfishly I'm not willing to share my food source) but seeing that my brother needs blood quickly, I zoom out without word, traveling the two-minute walk to Ursula's human friend Angela's house in about ten seconds at my speed. Twenty seconds after that and she's standing in the kitchen with me, EZ's mouth clapped around her wrist. Just then, Charles arrives.

"I'll have the fangs of whoever did this, and I will find out who," he states vehemently, after casting his eye over EZ.

"No, you won't. You know as my creator I'd never tell you what to do, but when you hear what I have to say, you'll back off. They were anti-TVM vigilantes, and they gave me a message. Unless Ursula surrender and expose her ties with the TVM and its other figureheads, this and worse happens to Angel. I suppose they needed someone to make their point with before that happened," he reveals after feeding, sealing Angela's wrist and then kissing it as he looks up at her. I don't think she will be going home tonight. She's about the only human he can tolerate, and that is because she's a very intelligent woman, and a damn good fuck too, apparently.

"In turn to match your initial words, no, they won't. I can bet just who is behind this, and it isn't who they said they were. The vampires who attacked you were sent by Elias, no doubt. Trying to scare Ursula into confessing to something she has no involvement in by doing this to you and threatening worse for Angel," he spits bitterly. Shit, all of this just took a sharp fucking turn.

Edie's POV

"There'll be more water on the floor than there is in the bath by the time we're done," I exclaim through ragged breaths, my nails running down my boyfriend's back.

"You're mistaking me for someone who gives a shit," comes his panted reply before our lips meet again in a heated kiss, with him thrusting into me so hard, my mouth breaks away and I practically scream. I'm all better after my bout of flu last week, but this week literally as soon as I was feeling well enough for sex, what happened? I got my fucking period, that's what happened.  

Usually Angel won't come near me (menstrual blood, since it isn’t fresh is kinda repelling for vampires) but when you add the fact that we haven't had sex for a week to the fact that a bath is a self-cleaning system for messy sex, well, he couldn't wait another five days for my bleeding to finish, let's put it that way. He's been so sexually wound up that I'm surprised I actually have a vagina left, to put it mildly.

I came in from work and this was the first place I wanted to go, just to relax more than anything. Hah. "Angel! Will you leave the poor girl to bathe for at least half an hour in peace before you go charging in there like some kind of crazed sex demon!" was what Ursula shouted at him when she overheard him trying to invade my bath time and me protesting it. Oh god, I laughed so hard!

I'll give him his due, I think he lasted for about twenty minutes before he came charging in with more horn than your average mountain goat. Not that I'm complaining, I at least got to relax for a little bit before I got set upon by the sexual beast that is my boyfriend. I've missed his touch in the erotic sense, and right now I don't think this is going to be over at any time soon. I think this is the perfect way to take our minds off the fact that as of nearly two weeks ago, the campaign against Ursula was reignited by EZ having seven shades of shit beaten out of him.

This happened when I was still ill, and I was sleeping when EZ apparently came home stabbed several times with silver knifes. According to his account, he was jumped by ten other vampires. He managed to throw one of them off before the other nine got to work on him, one silvering his throat with a chain while the rest beat him with silver knuckle dusters and stabbed him in the face and chest. He was okay after he'd fed, of course, and spent the rest of the evening showing his gratitude to Angela in very, very loud ways. That woman squeals like an amplified mouse at the cusp of orgasm, and he got her to that point more times than my ears want to remember. What followed that incident has been much, much worse. Everyone even remotely associated with Ursula has been targeted.

Three nights ago, what could be so classically described as an angry mob arrived here at the house, threatening to set the place on fire with all of us in it. How Ursula kept her temper with them, I'll never know. She calmly asked them exactly what evidence they had against her, asked them for just one piece. 'We know you were brought in for questioning!' the ringleader said from behind his covered face (yeah, they were so brave they covered their faces, fucking cowards) to which she asked him if there had been anything found to be implicating in that questioning, why would she still be a free woman?  

He couldn't answer that. He also couldn't answer the question of why there was a human standing there next to her who she had her arm around, and was perfectly safe and happy. That human was me. 'I suggest you all get off my property at once, or I'll show you just what a one thousand plus year old vampire can do all by herself.'

That is what she told them before they and their fiery torches all moved away. She knew she shouldn't have threatened them, but Ursula will be damned to her final death before she lets anyone put the safety of her family in jeopardy. 'You are my family too' she told me, kissing my head just after we went back inside. That gesture made me beam, to be counted as family to someone. I know I am to people like Vic and Aileen too, but for Ursula to say it just made me feel extra special. I've only been with Angel for six weeks, but the way I was welcomed into the family right from the start, you'd think I'd been with him for six years.

A few days before that, there was another incident with EZ, one that was much worse than the previous one, much worse because EZ almost killed the vampire who attacked him. He'll receive no punishment for it though, because here's the twist. The vampire who attacked him was found to be affiliated with the TVM, and he attacked EZ for allegedly 'pretending' to be TVM himself. He was caught, of course. Charles felt the anger in EZ rise and zoomed to his side before EZ had chance to fatally wound the other vampire. Sadly though, when brought in for questioning, he refused to talk.

The AVA threatened him with his life and he still wouldn’t give up any names, so yesterday morning after being interrogated non-stop for eight days to no avail, he was sentenced to the final death and chained up to meet the sunrise. Angel has also had some trouble to deal with, in the form of someone trying to pin a murder of a young girl upon him and his sexual problem. Ursula discovered her body, when enjoying her garden and picking some flowers at first dark, when she smelled something coming from the manure heap at the back of the yard. Under the large heap of horse poop was the body of a naked and drained girl.

She and Charles had been away enjoying their wedding anniversary at a beautiful hotel up in California the evening before, and she knew that it'd had been left there specifically for her to uncover as soon as she arrived home and then (hopefully for them) try and better hide the body to keep Angel out of trouble. She did exactly what they didn't expect, and reported the find immediately. Of course, she and Charles (who was quite angry at Angel for leaving the house unguarded, since EZ was away running a less illegal errand for Charles at the time) were off the hook as the poor girl had died while they were away, so that just meant EZ and Angel had fingers pointed at them, and of course both of them could give concrete alibi's. EZ was in a massive vampire bar when he was seen by many who came forward and vouched for his presence, and Angel was in me over at my place, so there's his alibi.

What was worrying about this is the fact Ursula knows they were trying to pin this on Angel, and then unravel the rest of the bodies left in his wake, pin some TVM related bullcrap on him and then also succeed in putting further evidence to the case against her. This is worrying because only a handful of vampires, ones she has known for centuries and trusts with everything knows about Angel and his problem with all human women except for me.  

She's now worried that whoever is working with Elias could possibly someone close to her. She told all of this to her creator, Constance, who was so perturbed by the idea that she is currently in the sky on a plane, flying out here to Nevada to assist 'before things get any worse than they are, my girl' as I overheard her word it to Ursula on the telephone a few nights ago. She and her newest offspring, a vampire by the name of John will be staying here at the house.

"Are you alright?" The lady herself asks me as I hobble into the kitchen just before 5am. I say hobble, because Angel only finally let me out from underneath him five minutes ago, and after you've had the sexual equivalent of a bull in an antique shop for the last near two hours, it's kind of hard to walk properly.

"No, I need to go and sit on a block of ice for an hour or so. Ouch," I wince, while Ursula giggles. Opening the fridge door, I locate my bottle of kiwi crush and take a few hearty swigs (since I've been with Angel and spend so much time here, there are a few more bits and pieces of human items to be found around the house) putting it away and then turning to Ursula once more. I then almost choke for laughing.

"Will this be adequate?" she says to me, holding up a massive block of ice from out of the deep freeze where she's zoomed to fetch it. We both stand there laughing heartily at her joke before composing ourselves. "You bring such joy to this house, dear child. Especially in these dark times we are facing, I thank you for being so upbeat." Walking over and smoothing my hair with her hands, she smiles widely, kissing my head. She's such a lovely lady. How could anyone hate her this much?

"I do try my best, if nothing else but to stop Angel from worrying about it all. I know he worries about your welfare more than he lets on," I confide, going to the jar on the side and pulling myself a cookie out, feeling a little peckish.  

"Oh, doesn't he just. I feel that too just like you do, of course. Anyway, let me keep you no longer. I'm off to see if I have any messages waiting for me on my cell, see if any of my leads on this whole debacle have come to anything. I confess though, I feel so very clueless. I eagerly await the arrival of Constance, I feel she is my last hope, and at two thousand, six hundred and sixty-six years old, nothing at all gets past her." She explains, giving me a cheek kiss goodnight and leaving the kitchen.  

I head back upstairs to Angel, for what shapes up to be round two of being fucked so hard, I’m left nothing short of dick drunk in the wake of it. He keeps me like that until 11am the next morning too, before finally he sleeps, and I more or less pass out after drinking a little blood from his wrist. I'm glad that when I wake up, my mind tricks me for a moment into thinking I have work to go to later on, until my brains kicks into gear properly and I remember it's a Saturday. Ahhh, bliss. I also remember where I'm meant to be in half an hour. Shit!

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I overslept!" I tell Vic as I race up his driveway, with him standing there waiting for me, tapping his watch.

"Don't lie to me, you were enjoying your boyfriend, we both know that much," he teases with a snort. He actually took the news that Angel and I are in a relationship a hell of a lot better than I thought he would. 'I've been wondering just when you were going to confess that to me. The way you talk about him, well it's the way a woman talks when she likes a guy' he told me with a little knowing wink when I revealed all to him.

"That big ball of fire up there indicates otherwise," I state, pointing up at the afternoon sun. I can hardly believe it's only a week to Christmas, and Nevada is still this warm. Okay so we never really have a proper winter like the people over in Europe or on higher ground have, but it does tend to get colder and rainier in December.

"Ahhhh, I'll let you off then, just this once," Vic replies before opening his arms to me and giving me a big hug. I haven't seen him for weeks, and it feels like so much longer.

"So ,are you still coming for a drink with us later? Please say yes!" I ask as we walk inside. I'm here for an early dinner with him before we head to Vic's favourite bar in the whole world, Mackenzie's Sports bar and grill, where we'll be meeting up with Angel, who says it's high time he meets 'your father' as he worded it. Vic is the closest thing I have to a dad after all.

"Yep, I got David to cover my shift," he replies, referring to his youngest nephew.

"Good, I'm so glad because he's actually really looking forward to meeting you, and that's very telling with Angel since his interest in humans only really extends to me. He much prefers the company of his own kind," I explain as he serves up the food. Fried chicken and big, fluffy on the inside, crispy on the outside baked potatoes (he cooks them perfectly) with some collard greens. Perfect.

"In turn I look forward to meeting him, the vampire who's made you so happy. It only feels like yesterday when we were sitting at this very table, and you were spitting venom over what a nasty asshole he was. How things have changed. Oh, are you still coming to me for Christmas day? I take it you can, since Angel will be asleep," he inquires, while passing me the butter before he sits down.

"Yeah, of course, I wouldn't miss your Christmas day cook off for the world!” I've near enough always spent Christmas with Vic and his family, and I love the atmosphere in this little house so much when it's jammed full of people. All conversation then ends as we begin eating our dinner. After we're done and all the dishes have been washed and put away, we take his dog Sadie for a little walk across the big fields that back onto his street.

"So, I've been wondering, how much different is it being in a relationship with a vampire to being with a human?" he asks me as he unclips Sadie's leash and lets her run off, barking as she chases a flock of pigeons in the near distance.

"It's strange, because it really doesn't feel that different for the most part, but the reality is that it's very, very different to being with a human person. You never see them in daylight for one thing, and I actually like that since I work nights, I can see him more than if I worked in the day, I can be awake when he is and sleep with him during the day.  

“Then there's the fact they don't eat, or drink anything other than blood, so sometimes places to go on a date can be limited in that respect. You also have to get used to the fact that they're wired differently to us emotionally. They're quite cold in a lot of respects, but that's the lack of life in them since they're dead. Angel is never like that with me, but of course I've seen that side of him. What else… oh yeah, the biggest difference is what they're like in bed, but we're leaving that where it is," I reply, while Vic gives me an aghast look.

"Oh come on! If I'm being truthful, that was the part I was fishing for," he exclaims, eyes wide before he roars with laughter at the look I'm currently wearing upon my face. Think startled goldfish, and you're very close.

"Vic!" I exclaim.

"What? I don't want any personal details, that'd be wrong, very wrong! But it's something I've always wondered. I mean, do they still do it like we do, or do they do it in some kind of… freaky way?" he questions curiously. When I've finished laughing at the freaky comment, I formulate my response.

"No, they still do it in the exact same way as us living people do, just with a difference. They do it faster, and for longer, and about a thousand times better than humans. They're ridiculously in tune with the person they're having sex with, and they're usually a lot older too, so they don't forget the skills, and they pick up way more than us humans ever will simply because they're lived longer," I reply, Vic nodding.

"Sounds interesting, but they scare me too much to ever try it out for myself! Those teeth, yikes," he begins, before asking me just how old Angel is.

"One hundred and thirty-six.” There's a few seconds of silence, and I turn to see him nodding before my eyes move to find Sadie towing along a big old fallen branch back in our direction, suddenly hearing a hissing noise. Oh lord, what's tickled him now?

"What's with you now?" I exclaim, trying not to laugh too. He has one of those really high-pitched laughs that automatically has me in hysterics. The noise doesn't sound like it's coming from a big guy like him.

"Your boyfriend is a hundred and eight years older than you. Ewww," he taunts, before really whooping with laughter.

"Shut up!" I protest.

"Does he smell mouldy?" I'm then asked through the hysterics.

"Vic! Stop it!" I cry, throwing him an elbow. I know he's only kidding, but I also know he won't quit teasing me now. It's the start of what promises to be a great night. If only it could remain that way all the way through, though.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2984

PT this morning was just an intake appointment, but i still left forty minutes later sore af because WOW moving my shoulder how it's not supposed to move makes it HURT. who knew?? not me, ig. we scheduled appointments through six weeks, until i go back to the orthopedist next month. until then, i must suffer. then we can get an mri done. then they'll listen to what i have to say. the ligament in my shoulder is loose. i've had doctors acknowledge it verbally and then do nothing besides physical therapy. i can feel it. it fucking hurts. i can't sleep on it. fucking sucks. six years ago when i united my shoulder at work, when it subluxed and bruised the head of the bone, after it was all done and healed and i'd gone for PT, the doctor still said the ligament was kinda loose. well, yes. that's why i have this problem. so fix it, why don't you, and i won't have shoulder pain for the rest of my life. good lord.

anyway.

came back, showered, dressed, went to starbucks, went to work, and was busy like all day. at least i knew going into it i was gonna be busy, so that was fine. when i first went in, i took my meds and i sat down and i tried to get myself organized. kristen came over and so did a student and melissa and i was sitting in my chair, bouncing my leg, talking a mile a minute, and melissa goes, "are you caffeinated?"

i'm like "no, it makes me jittery."

me, thinking: i'm jittery anyway, but ok body

it was funny.

after work i came back and took a nap. i was fuckin exhausted after being up early and having a full day of people.

i napped until about quarter of 8 when i sleepily bumbled out of the room. i stood there as joel made grilled cheese, trying to wake up and decide what i wanted. joel finished up and went downstairs, and i decided i wanted taco bell. so i went and i got some taco bell and my quesadilla was cut the wrong way. which isn't bad, but it's fucking hysterical. and usually it's cut in four pieces, but this bad boy was cut in three. it was so funny to me. it had nacho cheese in it, which is something the other taco bell's in the area don't usually do, so i didn't ask for just shredded cheese. but it was decent. it'll get me off of wanting taco bell for a while.

anyway i got home, i grabbed the cold stuff from the fridge and freezer, grabbed my laundry, and headed downstairs. i threw my laundry in and i went to sit with joel in our space downstairs and we watched a few episodes of white collar which is really great. he likes showing me his usual shows and watching them with me. it makes me happy. i like that he can share things like that with me, that we can do things together. it was a rare night off for him from all other obligations, so it was nice to just be there together.

anyway, my laundry is now all done and folded and i'm in bed and i'm ready to sleep but not to get up early again tomorrow. 8am comes quickly. 7:15 comes moreso.

also my friends at work are planning something for thursday and the only hint i've been given is "sports car." first thing i thought of was driving a sports car which would be sick. second i thought of a delorean, which goes to back to the future because i'm getting older and is my flavor of nerdy, but other than that.

so i don't know and i don't want to know and i still have twelve million things to do. sheesh. can i have another day this week? because yikes.

[towardfatherhood]

We Witless Wanderers

A few summers ago, I added a few dozen meat birds to our motley crew of free-range poultry. Cornish Cross chickens are pure white, dumb as bricks, and unable to live on their own - unable to live at all beyond about three months. They'll grow so large, their limbs or hearts will break under the weight of their elephantine chassis. These animals were bred for nothing more than their ability to quickly convert greens and grains into roasty, toasty, tasty, savory proteins. And to that end they lived, with all their chunky little hearts.

A week or so after I'd processed those plump, little bumblers, I went out to feed our resident pig, who was called Pig Pig. Pig Pig was an oversized potbelly, blind and mostly grouchy, or grouchy and mostly blind - we could never tell for sure. As I presented my family's food waste as an offering to surly swine, a flash of white caught my eye. One sneaky Cornish had apparently run off on harvest day, and been hanging out in Pig Pig's pen ever since, scavenging leftover leftovers! I admired the pluck of that bird...and made a mental note to include him in the upcoming duck and turkey harvest.

Turducken Harvest day came not long after. As hours passed, our cooler began to fill with still, chilled, featherless food. Now, I am not a man without soul or sense; every harvest day finds me in a somber mood. I play music that's upbeat enough to keep me moving, but well short of celebratory, as I softly contemplate my own mortality and general cosmic helplessness. As my kids were happily growing in age, I was quietly growing more desperate to live. Losing one's father as a baby is a bloodless, almost theoretical tragedy, as I well knew. It's difficult to miss a treasure you've never held. But my four are each of solid, memory-making age - developing dreams, seeking answers why and why not and how in the hell. What would they do without the father who lived in their every past and potential future day? Could they even survive such a loss? I deeply felt a desperate need to live, even as I acknowledged that I had zero control over how and when I go.

So, I counseled my self, If you can't know when you'll die, then you must live in a way that satisfies and makes sense to you. That way when you die, you might die satisfied with how you lived.

My reverie was interrupted as The Last of the Cornishes waddled over to me, suspecting not a thing. I snatched him up and set him in the harvest bucket. My 11 year old saw this. "Aw!" he protested, "That's so sad! He totally trusted you and you're just gonna kill him!"

"I told my son that chickens cannot trust or love," I explained to my pastor some days later, as we sipped acceptable coffees at Panera. "They only have very simple, animal brain functions."

Pastor Tim looked thoughtful. "I don't know," he offered. "It's true that a chicken is limited in it's thought capacity, but you might say that, as far as a chicken is able to trust and love, this chicken was trusting and loving you."

The longer I thought about this, the more sense it made. By human standards, a chicken cannot love. Humans embrace a world that is far above chickens, just as God exists far above humans - the worlds are fundamentally, existentially apart and cannot be compared. And just as God cares for me and will pull me from this life on a day not of my choosing, I care for my animals and will pull them from their life on the day I appoint.

But here's the magic - the redemptive regeneration of death:

Since its inception, every bundle of chicken flesh and feathers and bones could only peck and cluck and eat and sleep. Suddenly, it is swept through a gateway, removed from its blind, small existence and subsumed into a higher existence - a human existence that can think and pray and marvel and laugh and give thanks and sing songs! This brick of a bird is taken up and into a wondrous being it never could have understood or fully perceived.

In fact, this kind of violent transition is my own story as well: once upon a time I myself was small and blind and limited and cozy and content. Suddenly, against my will and without warning, I was torn from the only world I'd ever known, into something brighter and broader and wilder than my eyes or tiny mind could comprehend. Today we celebrate it as my "birthday" - but on that day I wept furiously. My eyes and lungs ached, my limbs flailed uncontrollably, and sure that this was all wrong, and the end of everything.

It will be my story again one day, I suspect. I will be unceremoniously extracted from this comparatively small plane of existence, into a higher, wider, grander, otherworldly existence, which this smallish mind could never have understood or fully perceived. There will be weeping again on that day, perhaps a feeling of wrong, of injustice, or ill timing. With any luck, there will also be understanding, trust, perhaps a measure of satisfaction and peace.

The beautiful irony, or the rhythm, or the graceful, upward spiral of it all, is that while my inner self is caught up into another place, my body will settle gently back into the earth; sinking, sleeping, feeding the sightless worms who will nourish waving grass and cheery clover, which might just be offered as nutrients to chickens...those witless wanderers, awaiting ascension.

[cecebookworm07]

I know KOLTC has its problems, but the series sort of saved my life.

I’ll tell you the story of why I’m kind of messed up emotionally and how this messy middle grade series helped me get through it.

It started the year I turned ten. My maternal grandmother was not doing well; her health was awful and her Alzheimer’s made her unable to recognize even her own daughter (my mother). She was put into the hospital a few weeks and she passed the day before my tenth birthday. I can never forget sitting at the head of the table and just seeing my mom trying to keep it together for my sake.

The next day, the day of my actual birthday, we want a little over three hours from home to visit an aquarium that I’d been begging my parents to take me to for awhile. While we were there, my dad got a call that his parents got in a car crash. Just like the night before, we stayed to have fun and my dad tried to act like it wasn’t bothering him but it still worried him which worried me.

My grandmother was fine but my grandfather wasn’t doing well. In the week that he spent at the hospital I was never allowed in. According to my dad he was in awhile condition and they didn’t want me to see him like that. A week into his hospital stay, when my sister and I were picked up early from school for one of those yearly doctors appointments, my mom gave us the news that my grandfather had passed. I think part of what made his so hard was I never gif the chance to say good bye in the week that he spent in the hospital.

The next few months I was obviously miserable. I pushed basically all my friends away, I got more anxious (and looking back now that’s definitely when my generalized anxiety started), and I totally lost myself.

It was a year later, at my eleventh birthday, when KOLTC would come in. I’d recently gotten into the series half because I needed pages for my reading class and half because I found myself genuinely enjoying it. I felt like crap that day if you can imagine. So I picked up the series that had been making me feel weirdly okay over the last few weeks (I was mid-way through Neverseen at this point) and just started reading.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt safer; cocooned in a fluffy blanket with a six-hundred page book on my lap. Mind you before this I didn’t read period, so getting to book four of a large series was considered a big step in progress by my reading teacher and parents.

That was six years ago, which is nuts to admit.

According to one of my best friends the way I write is so similar to the series writing it’s dizzying. This friend also reminds me at least twelve times a day how similar I act to Sophie. I’m being fully serious when I say sometimes I just open the map in Unlocked and stare it because I wish I was there.

I know this series has its problems, believe me. But I also wouldn’t be the person I am today without it. I wouldn’t be a bookworm, I wouldn’t have the friends I have now, and I honestly don’t think would have been able to get better the way I did.

I don’t know if I’m going to end up posting this on my birthday like I’m planning, or if I’m going to chicken out. But regardless, here’s the trauma dump.

[theretirementstory]

Bonjour toute le monde, I am still at home and am enjoying my garden. We had three days of gorgeous weather where the temperatures reached 20c, although I was doing a lot of washing and letting it dry outside I still managed to prune my roses, clear nettles from around the paniculata and cleared out the dead leaves and weeds from the peonies.

The delicious meal at the restaurant did not disappoint, I decided to have a starter and what a cracking choice it was, tartine of chèvre chaud with a salad made with apple, pears and more cheese, it was really delicious. I then had the filet of beef with pepper sauce, gratin dauphinois and green beans plus I still had room for the delicious exotic fruits with sorbet. It was certainly worth going as I really enjoyed it all.

I had to go to the hospital for a platelet transfusion on Monday and I thought I was never going to get home! Did they not realise we were having similar to toad in the hole for dinner!

“The Photographer” and I were still busy getting my affairs in order. The one thing that was most important to me was having a funeral plan in place. We went and got the estimate and then I had an appointment on Friday for it all to be finalised. That’s it, I have the paperwork, it’s all paid for and an additional burden removed from my sons’ shoulders.

For our last meal together, “The Photographer” drove us to Buffalo Grill. I didn’t feel as hungry as I had previously and couldn’t eat all of my steak but I still managed a slice of cheesecake which was delicious.

Then it was time for “The Photographer” to leave. I was waiting for a taxi, which didn’t show, to take me to the hospital for my PET scan. The lady said it hadn’t been booked 🤔. So I spent an extra hour with him as he drove me to the hospital for the scan. It was a long day for him but he returned home safe and well and we had spent a lovely nine days together.

As I said the weather was gorgeous and so I took advantage and got all of the bedding washed (it will soon be ironed and put away). I have my bag to pack for hospital tomorrow.

Lots of messages from friends, Anie, Pauline, Monique. Maud and Claudine in France, Mary, Val, Jo, Jackie and Miranda in the UK.

My gorgeous grandchildren have been with Daddy this weekend, what little cuties they are! I got gorgeous photos of my grandson and my granddaughter was in studious mode until she knew that her uncle was coming to visit and my goodness the smile on her face when she saw him was amazing. They were both sitting on his knee, just loving being with him. My grandson was using his uncle’s girlfriend’s phone to take selfies, cheeky little chap.

“The Trainee Solicitor” is still trying to do his work and prepare the office for a new member of staff (hopefully one arrives soon). It is full on busy and boy will he be glad of a four day weekend this coming week.

“The Reconnect Navigator” has been given her own cases and feels that things are moving along. She also had her first payday which is a great day in anyone’s book.

“The Jetsetter” returned from her trip to Bologna, Venice and Florence and I know that during the stay aperol was consumed and I imagine quite a bit of pasta too. I always think it’s great to get away at this time of year as it sets you up for the summer.

My hair has fallen out big style now, I look a little like a friar with my big round bald patch in the middle of tufts of hair. As I don’t have the next round of chemo until maybe another month, I think I will be bald for sometime (I am not really liking it!)

My first piece of music this week comes from the artist I know as Terence Trent D’Arby but who is now known as Sananda Maitreya. To choose between “If You Let Me Stay” and “Sign Your Name” has proven very difficult, I am going to go with “Sign Your Name” but why not listen to them both. This song was released in 1987, wow so long ago!

The second song, has quite a haunting melody, it’s “7 Seconds” by Youssou N’Dour ft. Neneh Cherry, it was released in 1994.

Now I really must go to the supermarket, I need to get some filters for my Brita water filter (other makes are available) and I would like to buy something tasty for this evenings meal.

I will wish you all a Bon Dimanche and leave you with the photos of the spring flowers and the cherry blossom.

[jrpneblog]

North End land in a Hornets nest

We were absolutely embarrassed by full time in this latest encounter of the "not my fault" Ryan Lowe saga. This time we conceded five at home to a Watford side who still sit below us in the league table. Yet this game could have been oh so different with North End on top for the first forty minutes or so. However from the minute Watford equalised, three minutes before the break, the game took a dramatic twist. Four more second half goals from the visitors left Deepdale echoing to the rattle of empty seats as thousands of home supporters made their way to the exits long before the final whistle. It was reminiscent of the QPR exit only much worse. Yes the players must take some responsibility but, in my opinion, the manager was once again, for the umpteenth time, out thought and out manoeuvred by his opposite number in terms of tactics and game management. It all amounted to an ultimately diabolical final home game before Xmas and left the home fans wondering were the club go from here.

North End made two changes from the side that won at Huddersfield on Tuesday night with Osmajic and McCann coming in for Evans and Holmes. Just how Duane Holmes is not one of the first names on the team sheet puzzles me but that is another story for another day. North End started well but there were some very early warning signs of what the visitors could do. Hamer in the Watford goal had a brilliant first half and saved from Storey and Potts, twice, in the early exchanges. At the other end a header went narrowly wide before Whatmough saved a certain goal with a goal line clearance. However North End got on top and took the lead just before the half hour after great work on the left by Millar led to the ball reaching Keane and the striker flicked it home. It was our eight shot in the opening half hour and we looked well on top. Three minutes from the break and the Hornets were level when a superb ball from the left found Bayo at the back post and the sides went in level.

No changes from Ryan Lowe at the break but an extraordinary kick off by North End spectacularly backfired on the home side. Seven players lined up on the half way line to the right of the centre spot. Brown played the ball back to Woodman from the kick off who lumped it up the right. However we lost possession and Watfords slick passing saw Martins fire past Woodman with just seventeen seconds of the second half gone. It was absolutely schoolboy stuff and North End never recovered from that moment. Potts had a chance well saved but soon after Kayembe fired home a slightly deflected shot to make it three as the boos started. The manager made four changes in one go and his tactical ineptitude once again left us exposed with the wing backs way too high up the pitch. With twenty minutes left and about half the crowd on their way home Kayembe made it four for Watford as North End looked absolutely clueless to do anything about it. Six minutes later Kone made it five for the visitors and by this time there were more in the Gentry Bar than there were inside Deepdale. It was a spectacular disintegration even by North End`s standards and left the Deepdale faithful with plenty to ponder over the next seven days.

North End had a decent week on the road last week. It was a bore draw at Norwich, fair enough, and a good win a Huddersfield albeit against a poor side. This, though, was right back to a fortnight ago against QPR and the Cardiff home game before that. Three wins and three draws in the last fifteen games is certain relegation form and that is just what North End have produced starting with the draw at Rotherham back in September. It plainly isn't good enough and what will ultimately lead to the managers departure is the performances at Deepdale, or should I say the lack of performances. Appointing Ryan Lowe was made on fair and reasonable assumptions and no-one is blaming anybody at Deepdale for that. However too many times in the managers tenure we have seen the team out thought tactically leading to some horrendous results. It wasnt wrong to appoint Lowe two years ago but it would certainly be wrong not to make a change now for the good of the club.

.

PRESTON 1-5 WATFORD

.

WOODMAN 6

STOREY 6 WHATMOUGH 7 LINDSAY 5

WHITEMAN 5

POTTS 6 McCANN 5 BROWNE 6 MILLAR 7

OSMAJIC 5 KEANE 7

.

Subs:

HUGHES 6

BRADY 6

HOLMES 6

EVANS 6

.

MOTM: Liam Millar

Attendance 14,389

Preston Fans 13,491 (93.76%).

[im-a-shitpost-god]

It's my dad's birthday today and for the first time in the 22 years I've been alive for I haven't wished him a nice day or another happy year. It made me feel really guilty of course, but I don't think he deserves it. Almost four whole months of not talking to him have gone by, and he has asked around about how I've been and what I've been doing. He's not been brave enough to ask me though. Four months and he hasn't asked why I don't speak to him either. I assume he thinks it's because I'm ungrateful and greedy, interested only in his money. It's hard when it's the only thing someone has to offer you and no matter how many times you try to explain and how you fade away over the years and how they stop knowing you completely. The worst is the extent you can pull yourself from someone's life without them trying to stop you or wanting to know why. So I haven't wished him a happy birthday and I feel horrible about it but I have enough self respect for myself to not do it.

Two weeks ago I got a bus ticket going to work, because I didn't have enough money to get one. I've had to miss doctor's appointments and reschedule therapy for weeks because I can't cover it and the guilt I feel for my mum having to go back and forth angry texting my dad to give her 30 pounds is worse than missing it. We've only been able to get groceries once the past three weeks because she can't cover it more often than that and I've been scrapping together dinners and lunches for work with whatever we would have on hand. I have debts I haven't been able to pay off in months and things I've needed for weeks I keep pushing off because I can bearely find enough money for food let alone stupid shit I can stretch without for a little while longer. The ammount of work one has to put into something as stupid as not starving lays heavy on my heart on the bus ride home from work. I stare out of the window as it's pouring outside, the window foggy from the heat of the bus and the people inside it. It's the only moment of my day I have enough time to consider how I'm feeling and I'm not feeling well. I feel like my heart's growing heavier with each year of my life and I yearn for the times where I worried about my friends and my grades and how other people saw me and how sad I would feel and I had enough time and friends and people around to worry about.

I digress, my dad's birthday is today and soon I'm suing him for aliments. It's not a pleasant thought and not a pleasant thing to do and not something I want to do at all if I had any other choices. I feel guilty for it, but even more guilty for my mum who is left arguing with my dad and worrying about how she will pay for our house bills. My dad seems like he doesn't have money to cover any of this, judging by how angry he gets about these things, or how he used to make me beg and plead for him to help me pay for groceries in uni. My sister, in the same position but with perhaps less quiet anger and pride bubbling up inside her broke off her silence after months to beg and plead. When she talks to me about what she has to say and do to get 40 pounds for petrol and a doctor's appointment I feel sick and all the more I feel my silence is okay. I am not like her and have never been like her. I'm not one to scream and yell and storm off and ignore someone for months out of anger. My anger always feels like it's brewing quietly for weeks, months and years before I get so fed up I up and leave. I don't ever explain why, to anybody. So, my dad has so much money. I grew up more well-off than any of my friends, never even looked at the prizes of things in stores, never wondered if we would go on holidays to someplace fancy and never wondered if I asked for something if my parents would decline. I had private tutors, expensive shoes and money-consuming hobbies. Dad didn't blink twice sending me off to America in highschool, spending enough money on it to buy a brand new car. So yeah, inviting me to his new house last year, staring at his imported from Britain wallpaper that cost more than my life had the past 6 months and at his designer fucking frigde that cost more than my life had in the past year and a half? The quiet rage kept growing and growing, every time he would yell at me asking where my money had gone studying abroad that month because food isn't that expensive and I have to be lying to him.

So, no happy birthday.

I feel like I am drowning in on myself, always have been that kind of person. I have suprisingly always been well-liked, well-known, like the kind of person that managed to be recognized by most people I passed. A smile always plastered on my face, teasing and talkative. Engaged into everyone I turned my attention to as if we were the best of friends. First time I walked away from someone was from my first friend group in highschool. They were all nice kids, way more quiet than me and consistent in their presence. But I've always been loud and a bit annoying and really too trusting and too honest. And I had like a fucked up situation happen there and I promise as selfish as I am, that was not my fault. I got semi-dropped but I earned back my way into that group and then fucked it all up again only a couple months after for this girl I was really in love with. My best friend had feelings for her and confessed all this shit to me when I was away in America and it obviously didn't go all that well. I dropped the poor girl before I left, but for some reason things between us always have been this way like a slow magnetic pull always. And so I tried to ditch her to save my friendship with this person I really loved and cared about. But then shit happened and I got pulled back in and then again stupidly promised I wouldn't see her because I loved my friend that much. Despite how earnest I was to do this I obviously didn't last all that long and two months passed and we were stuck at each other's hip again. Kept being blown off by my friends who seemed to have moved on from me to some extent and it hurt me a lot so I dropped them completely. I was depressed for months but moved on later, whatever. Similar thing with the next friends I made. I don't confront people about things. I quietly hope they will shake themselves and realise they are being assholes. So again, I wasn't treated the best. I pulled away. Some people would try to come back into my life but I wouldn't let them. Gave them a chance once, which they fucked up so badly I refrained from doing that ever again.

I used to be really trusting, overly so. People would take advantage as people do. I don't like to trust people now. I have friends but kept at arms length, ones I've known for years who I am not close enough with for them to fuck me over too bad. I have other friends, in countries I don't live in anymore, who I wish I got to see but can't. I am a really lonely person. I yearn to have people I can rely on but I also like to push people away. So when I'm on the bus staring out at the route I've taken since I was thirteen, so familiar to me, I wish I had someone close. I am not interested in surface level friends like I used to be. That came after losing the first real friends I had. I don't know. Many times I've found out my closest friends would call me annoying and too much behind closed doors. I can honestly see what they meant but the diluted version of me that exists now makes me sick to my stomach. I used to be just as happy and excited and loud as I used to be sad but it was a whole me. Now I feel like a fructured mess of nothing and nothing to offer and nothing to want or need. Last time I made friends was maybe three years ago and since then I'v e felt less and less like myself.

So, anyways, off topic a bit. Sometimes walking through a busy street, on a train getting home and in a pasta aisle of a grocery store I want to start screaming and not stop. Start sobbing my heart out and have people look at me weird and pull their children away and call the security. I want to finally break and do something so crazy that at least somebody will look at me. I just still feel like that about everything- like a slow slow light and gentle brewing anger, non-spilling and not hot. Just bearely there if you don't look at it right or close enough. I don't know. When I was younger I used to think that if I killed myself then at least people would notice. I don't think I was that far off

[gwyneirastorm]

So I'm four weeks post-op today and I have two more weeks until my last post-op appointment, where the doctor will hopefully toss my crutches and say, "You don't need these!"

What I'm not going to tell him is that I've been walking around my house without them for a week and a half now. I still use them out in public, but I don't need them at home. I dont have pain when I walk, I don't feel unsteady on my feet, I'm not doing any squatting or crawling...Im just walking around. Getting from one place to another without my crutches.

I just couldn't take them anymore. They were such a pain in the ass, more trouble than they were worth, and I needed to be able to take care of my kid and my house because my husband got three days in and decided it was all too much for him. So I stayed on them as long as I could and then I just set them aside so I could resume mom and wife duties. I know that's bad, but it is what it is. I told him from the beginning, for weeks before my surgery, that it was going to be very difficult and overwhelming, you need to prepare yourself for this, blah blah blah. Did he listen to me at all?

No.

I started dressing myself and helping myself around on day two because he started complaining about how taking care of both of us (me and the kid) was too much. By day three, I was slowly cleaning things up and hanging up laundry because he complained the house was too much to keep up. We lived in straight up filth for two weeks because he just wouldn't do certain things like run the vacuum or wipe down the counters or clean the shower.

And the shower--dont get me started on the shower. I wanted to at least shower every other day, but showering is cumbersome when you can only use one leg. I found a stool and rigged up a system where I sit the stool on a towel so it wouldn't slip, put another towel on top for me to sit on, and then I was good to go. I could even wash and clean myself once I got in the tub, but I needed his help to get in and out. You would have thought I was asking him to carry me on his back instead of use his arm to steady myself. After my third shower, I honestly didn't want his help anymore so I just took the risk and got myself in and out of the tub.

By the end of week two, my whole family (dad, mom, sister) had all contracted some kind of virus and were all horribly ill. The problem was that they were supposed to be helping me take care of the kid during the day while hubs was at work. So that Friday my dad called early to tell me they were all sick and we should stay away so we don't get the plague as well. I didn't feel comfortable at all staying home with my kid by myself so soon after my surgery and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to care for him. I asked my husband if he could just take the day off and use one of his PTO days. He said, "No. Figure something out if you need help." Then he walked out the door and just expected me to figure it all out.

So I finally got sick of it all--him not taking care of my house, not taking care of me, not taking care of my kid--and I put down the crutches and started walking by myself so I could handle my responsibilities again. I decided a few days ago that I would be bringing all of this up in marriage counseling after I had to listen to him brag to himself about what a great husband, father and homemaker he is. Which is, of course, HORSE SHIT.

Anyway, so my leg is sore from use, but its muscle pain and I think its because I didn't use it for two weeks. I really can get around pretty well on my own now. Im very impressed with how much better the surgery has made things overall. My mobility is much better and I have almost no pain. I had actually forgotten what that was like.

[college-girl199328]

This London senior is trapped at home relying on LTC's 'impossible' paratransit service

Visiting friends, shopping, and getting to appointments are everyday activities for many Londoners, but for Angie Ryan, they've come to a near halt. Problems booking paratransit are worse than she's seen in 25 years, and it's limiting her quality of life, said the 71-year-old, who uses a wheelchair. She started using the service at about the same time the London Transit Commission (LTC) took it over in 1997.

The specialized transit service offers door-to-door transportation for people with a disability that prevents them from using regular bus service. But trips are not guaranteed, according to the LTC, leaving people like Ryan to spend hours on the phone trying to book, often with no other option.

"It's for me to go grocery shopping or other appointments I need," said Ryan, who lives with Friedreich's ataxia, a rare genetic disease that deteriorates muscles.

"Now it's pretty impossible," she said. "I can't go on errands or meet up with friends." "It's just not available to me." Ryan used to go out about three times a week, but that changed last year when trips got harder and harder to book. It used to take about 10 minutes, she said. Now, it can take hours—with no success.

After four days of trying, she had a specialist medical appointment in November and had to foot a nearly $100 bill for an accessible taxi. "Paying for the taxi fare is difficult on a limited income and as a senior," she said.

Specialized transit rides can be booked over the phone up to three days in advance, starting at 7 a.m. on weekdays. Ryan said she usually gets a busy signal for the first hour, followed by 20 minutes on hold. Once she gets through, the time slot she needs is usually already taken.

Her speech is slower in the mornings due to her illness, and she's had staff hang up on her because of difficulty understanding her, she said. Paratransit woes are all too relatable for Ashton Forrest, 36, who uses a mobility scooter and has scleroderma, a rare, incurable autoimmune disease.

She's being honored on this year's Mayor's New Year's Honours List for her accessibility advocacy. She's not sure she can make it to the ceremony on Jan. 24 due to difficulties booking paratransit.

"It's frustrating and exhausting," she said. "If I don't get a ride, it influences my ability to work and engage with the community," said the master's student at Western University. 

"We're being told, well, that's just the way it is," said Forrest, who has sat on the city of London's accessibility advisory committee. "Disabled people have lives, and we deserve to be able to engage in our lives in the way we want and shouldn't be restricted."

"We certainly, as you know, feel our customers' frustration," said Kelly Paleczny, general manager of LTC. LTC's contracted service provider is short drivers for the number of buses that should be on the road, though she could not say how many drivers are needed. She added that it takes time for the provider to hire and train new employees. 

Paleczny said the telephone system was upgraded two years ago, and the LTC is currently looking at options for booking online. That commitment was made in 2020 in the LTC's annual accessibility report, which stated that it may not be equitable as "not all registrants of the service have access to the internet."

"[It] takes time to roll out and make sure that it's going to work fairly and equitably for all of the registrants," she said. There are about 11,000 people registered to use the service. LTC runs 32 specialized service vehicles on weekdays, 23 on Saturdays, and 13 on Sundays, according to LTC. 

"We would like to have a lot more service out there to pick people up and get them where they need to go; you know they'd like to get there." We're doing everything we can. "It's just going to take time."

[dearlordsanta]

Work, school, rosacea, and community

It's been a while. Thought I'd pop in with a little update!

I won't go too much into work because I don't want folks to be able to guess where I work. That being said, work has been a little tough lately, like it has been at a lot of places, we've been impacted by the recession. Hiring freezes, layoffs, being short-staffed, the whole bit. I recently even had to reapply to keep my job. It was stressful. I like my job, and this is the best company I've ever worked for. On top of all that, this job is the only reason I can keep going to school because they are paying for it. I mentioned my anxiety a bit in the past, but not in every post, which is saying a lot, I feel because I'm anxious almost all the time. I did interview practice with a third-party company that was made available to us during the time of layoffs, met with my mentor, and prepped as best I could for questions I thought might be asked. I did well in my interview, better than almost any other interview I've had, so I'm happy to report I'm staying employed! Yay!

School is still going great! I'm in my second math class and it's actually pretty neat. We're learning how to do equations in Google Sheets/Excel, which I thought was interesting. It's practical learning that I can apply to my current, and any future, jobs that I may have. I am also learning that the work I've done in Excel so far is barely scratching the surface, so I'm excited to learn more. Still holding steady at a 4.0 too, by the way! Woot woot!

I have never been officially diagnosed with rosacea, but my face (especially my nose) is red ALL the time, and my mom has been diagnosed with rosacea, so we've always assumed that's what it was. I used to try to cover it with make-up, but that is worse. I gave up on coverup a long time ago and try new things now and again, but it never goes away. That is not why I am bringing this up though! A few months ago, one eye started being really red almost constantly. I thought it might be allergies, so I tried allergy medicine and allergy eye drops to no avail. It was also starting to hurt. Finally, after about a month/month-and-a-half, I went to the optometrist. She informed me that I have rosacea ON/IN my eye! Honestly, I almost cried. I almost cried because I knew this was one more thing that would be forever. There is treatment, but no cure. If I didn't want to be in pain, I was going to have to work at it and I knew even then that there was no guarantee. She told me the treatment, scheduled a checkup in four weeks, and sent me on my way with a promise to call if it got worse. If you read my blog, you know everything else that is on my plate, and I was having a bad day. It was too much. I have eye wipes, eyelid spray, and eye drops. I have to do the wipes and the spray twice a day and the eye drops four times a day. I've been doing that, and it's helped. Again, not gone, but better. Until a few days ago. Three nights ago, I couldn't sleep because my eye hurt so badly. No matter what I did, nothing helped. It was red and swollen and it hurt every time I closed my eyes, even if it was just to blink. After a sleepless night, I called the doctor. She told me to keep doing the wipes and the spray, to up the eye drops to every two hours while I am awake, and to add eye gel. It's annoying, but it's helped. I was able to sleep, but it still hurts to blink sometimes. My appointment is in a few days now. Hopefully, nothing else is going on.

Lastly, I know I've written about my dogs before, but it's been a while. When you have a dog, you become part of a community. I realize this the more I go to dog parks. Even at the pet store, you get people who are rude about your dog, even if the dog isn't doing anything. However, today at the dog park, my girl was running and playing like normal and then she tripped and started crying. I don't mean the sad pitiful crying, but loud, high-pitched, I-think-I'm-dying type of crying. I was close by [obviously] and immediately rushed over to her. She didn't even stop crying when I picked her up and she was favoring her leg. EVERY SINGLE DOG OWNER RAN over to see if my dog was okay. They watched as I carefully, followed by not-so-carefully, felt her leg for injury. Once my pup realized it didn't hurt anymore, she ran off to play. Everyone there asked if she was okay or if I needed help and distracted her by petting her while I was checking her leg. When she ran off again, they all said how glad they were that she wasn't hurt. Y'all...I hadn't met a SINGLE person there before. At that moment though, they became my people. It was so comforting, and it reminded me why I drive a smidge further to this dog park than going to one a little closer to home.

PS: No real updates on my husband. He was doing really well for several weeks and was talking about going back to work part-time, but a couple weeks ago, he had another flare-up that is still going on, so I'm back to barely talking to him because he's mostly sleeping, or too cranky/sick to talk. Feeling really lucky to have my dogs <3