#BOBs can go suck an egg

[supercalime]

My favorite part of the BOBs being annoying is how they think it’s a “gotcha” to say bucktommy fans are “too old because they are over 30” when *checks notes* most of the characters are over 30.

[writing-rat]

Such a cockslut

JENNA ORTEGA X AFAB READER (NO PRONOUNS USED)

Warnings: 18+ Content, Smut, G!P Jenna, Blowing smoke in face, blowjob, mentions of a photo being taken, semi-public sex, first RFP so may be bad

INSPIRED BY: @deep-fried-egg

-

It had been a long and stressful day for Jenna at the studio. She was stretching as she was walking inside the door after exiting her truck and was putting her bag down on the floor then took off her boots. She looked around for Y/N then. She peered into the kitchen, not seeing you then peered into the living room. That’s where she saw you wrapped in a blanket, looking at her like an owl from over the couch. Half of your face was covered so your smile was hidden. “There’s my favourite girl,” Jenna grinned out, unable to help it before she was jumping over the couch and saw that smile before she cupped your cheek, and kissed you. You proceeded to kiss back, a big blush going across your face.

“I’m gonna go out and smoke now, okay hon?” Jenna spoke. You nod before thinking. “Can I join?” You asked shyly, as you had a plan to help her destress even more so she didn’t have more than 1 cigarette. Jenna, intrigued, nodded. “Course you can my love,” she responded. She led you both out to the front porch as she sat down, lighting the cigarette as she was manspreading like she usually did. You eyed her crotch before you looked around seeing no one. Slowly you went onto your knees in front of her, which shocked her as she was looking down while smoking her cigarette. She was getting hard, you could see it through her green jeans. Slowly you start to rub her inner thigh as you look back up at her, seeing if she was consenting to you starting to undo her zip. You even licked your lips to tempt her, to which she nodded. 

“Go on. You are just a slut for my cock, hm?” Jenna asked, looking down at you. You blush as you nod, starting to unbutton her jeans. She put the cigarette in her mouth and pulled her jeans and boxers to her knees as you were slowly starting to kiss her inner thighs. Jenna grasped the cigarette in one hand, the other gripping your hair in a tight grip before you slowly licked up her dick, to which she held tighter, a low groan slipping out. “Come on. I know you are hungry for my dick, so just suck it, hm? Be a good cockslut?” Jenna teased you. Blushing bright red you nod as you start to take it in your mouth, first sucking the tip before you inserted more in your mouth.

Jenna kept groaning in pleasure as her grip tightened impossibly harder, her hips bucking in your mouth. You let out a whimper before you start to bob your head up and down, your hand trailing to her balls and slowly starting to rub them too. Jenna loved it, and she knew you did too. She rubbed your hair as she smoked, groaning and moaning even coming out now. She slowly inhaled into your face, which you whimpered at but found hot. “Cockslut likes to have smoke blown in their face too, hm?” she hummed out innocently, to which you blushed and nodded. You sucked more and noticed a pattern. Every time you reached her stomach she would blow smoke in your face, like it was a treat. 

It was working though. Soon she was getting close and it was becoming obvious she was about to cum. You kept deepthroating and on the fifth time she came inside your mouth. You swallowed it all immediately out of instinct, looking up at Jenna as you kept her dick in your mouth. She proceeded to take a photo before she was rubbing your hair. “Pull your shorts and panties down, cockslut,” Jenna commanded. You did as told, revealing your wetness as she licked her own lips. “On my lap, make sure my dick is entering you,” Jenna added on. You were quick to obey as you lined both her dick and your pussy together, before slowly going down on her. Once fully down you expected her to thrust as she smoked, but she didn’t. She didn’t move at all, causing you to whimper and grind against her thigh.

“Ride me, I won’t move or touch you,” Jenna informed you. You was bright red before you was slowly going up and down, all shy before you thought and undid your button-up flannel and revealing your tits to the famous woman. She looked down as you felt her dick twitch inside, ogling your chest as you was riding her. She blew smoke on them as you gasp, nearly getting your sweet spot hit but was just a bit too high. “Such a good cockslut. Not finding that sweet spot are you?” Jenna teased, lifting her eyes up from your tits to her face and held your jaw, making sure you kept eye contact as you rode her and as she smoked. “Open your mouth whore,” she degraded you. Opening your mouth, she blew into it as you gladly accepted it. Hell, a moan came out even which you was blushing at, getting more drenched as you kept riding her. 

You soon came, unable to help it as you just found your sweet spot. You knew Jenna hadn’t cum just yet, causing you to keep bouncing on your sweet spot as you whimpered and mewled in pleasure, Jenna moaning more as she wanted to feel and hear your moans on her neck. She quickly moved your face to her neck as you rode her, whimpers and moans pressed against her neck. She let out a groan before she came inside you. You let out a gasp and let out a whine before she was bending you over a table.

You knew she wanted you even more now. She had pulled out to make sure to tease you as she was taking off her shirt. Eventually she was inside you again as she was starting to hold your sides, pounding into you hard. She moaned as she did so, ignoring the fact people could see you as she soon groped your breast with one hand, the other slipping to your ass and groping it as she was letting out loud moans. You proceeded to whimper, mewl and whine as you bit the table a little, closing your eyes. She was slowly starting to mark your neck and your shoulders as you moaned, her constantly hitting that one spot inside you. She was already getting close due to coming 3 times in the same hour. She waited for you to cum however. After 2 minutes more of her pounding, you both came at the same time as she was holding you by the breasts and the ass still. After a minute of riding out your highs, she slowly pulled out and kissed her cheek, seeing the abandoned cigarette as she stubbed it out. “That was your plan all along huh?” Jenna teased. You blushed hard and nod. “Yes…” you spoke shyly. “Come on, let’s get you a bath, some food and water then we can cuddle and watch some films,” she spoke gently before kissing you gently. “What do you say?” She asked, wanting consent. You nodded, feeling your heart flutter. “Please and thank you,” you speak, before kissing back.

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-ten

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I don't think you guys understand how broken this gif made me Fuck, creating it killed me! Also, during the hotel scene, listen to snuff by slipknot. It's on the playlist! Some eggs from other songs on the playlist throughout the chapter as well! Enjoy my loves!

Tags: @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here

NICK R.

My heart raced as Jolly and I met each other in the dimly lit hotel hallway, sleep still heavy in our eyes and bones. When he called me a few minutes ago, I rushed out of bed where I was crashing in Matt’s room and knew that it could have been about one thing.

Noah.

“What happened?” I asked.

Jolly ran a hand over his exhausted face. “I don’t know. I haven’t walked inside yet and I’m afraid of what I’m going to see.”

“Y/N. He kicked me out earlier tonight because she was coming by,” I said, remembering suddenly.

“Shit,” Jolly cursed before nodding behind me towards Folio. “No matter what we walk into, we don’t judge him. Whatever happened fucked him up enough that he needs to write a song at three in the morning.”

Folio agreed. “How bad is he?”

I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

Jolly turned towards the door and knocked gently.

“Yeah.”

The voice that called back was not Noah; this voice sounded broken, and distant, with the single word that was uttered.

“It’s me,” Jolly spoke through the door.

Realizing that Noah was most likely not in a state to answer the door, I handed Jolly my room key and we all sucked in a breath when the light on the lock turned green; us walking into the room one at a time. There was music playing, soft beats echoing off the wall, and I hoped no one would complain to the front desk about the noise.

My bed was still as I left it but Noah’s bed was disheveled with a pair of underwear that clearly weren’t his and a small piece of what I expected was a condom wrapper. Noah’s original clothes from earlier that evening were on the floor at the edge of the bed.

Shit.

Noah was on the floor leaning against the wall with a bottle of Hennessy in hand, more than half gone, and his hair was in a disarray of braids.

“Noah,” Jolly said quietly while bending down in front of him.

He waved a hand in front of his face as his head bobbed slowly. “I’m good, man. I just wanted to get this beat down. It’s in my head.”

“She wouldn’t stay, would she?” I questioned while motioning towards the bed.

“Didn’t need to. Jus’ friends. ‘S’all it’s come to. She didn’t need to and I don’t really fucking care. I don’t. No sweat off ma back,” he finished the rest of the bottle before letting it slip from his fingers. “I’m fine. F.I.N.E.”

The three of us shared a painful wince as he spelled out the word two more times.

As if whoever was watching over us from above, just then that specific song by Too Close To Touch came blasting through the small portable speaker Noah always brought with.

“See?” Noah pointed to the air around him. “Even fucking Keaton is telling you guys I’m fine.”

But then, he slammed his head against the wall behind him as his bottom lip trembled, his chest caving in at hearing his best friend's voice play throughout the room. Noah was only rubbing more salt in his wounds and fuck, they burned.

“Why the fuck aren’t you here, man?” he choked out. “You knew her better than us. What did I do? Why’d she leave?”

Keaton’s name felt like ice in our hearts and I knew it was a stabbing pain through Noah’s chest.

“Whatever,” Noah grumbled, wiping angrily at his face. “Her decision; bad decision. Fuck her. I need to write.”

“Noah, come on, don’t say shit you’re gonna regret,” Folio spoke. “You can’t write when you’re drunk. You know that.”

“M’not. She jus’ my good friend. I fucking knew I wasn’t enough for her.”

He was far gone, not even realizing that Folio and I stood behind Jolly, our own somber expressions weighing heavily on our faces.

Finally, his eyes opened and when he saw all three of us, Noah groaned.

“Oh, great ya called them?” He pointed towards us. “I don wanna hear I told you so, erm stubborn. Yadayadsa.”

His words slurred together, stumbling over his tongue.

Folio peered around the room, counting the empty bottles. “I’m counting two.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Apparently he’s been sitting here awhile.”

“You know I can’t stay; you deserve better than me,” Noah chuckled, imitating Y/N’s voice.

Jolly peered over his shoulder at us and his lips were pulled in a tight line, all of us thinking the same thing.

“Noah” I sighed with my hands on my hips.

His head snapped up, eyes red with tears so close to falling but they wouldn’t. Noah was always in control of his emotions; he refused to cry in front of us.

“She told me what I felt, she told me what I wanted and what I didn’t. Didn’t give me a fucking say about anything before she walked the fuck out. Left. Gone,” he rambled on.

“She’s going through-,” Folio started.

“Fuck that,” Noah seethed with clenched fists in his lap. “I don’-don’t care right now, in this moment. She fucking stole my heart and took it with ‘er. Jus’ friends.”

The last two words sounded bitter on his tongue, like acid.

While we let him wallow in the pain, I motioned for Jolly and Folio to walk to the other side of the room, out of earshot from Noah.

“Should we ask Malcom or Chase what the fuck happened?” Jolly asked.

“Do you think she told them?” Folio wondered.

I shrugged while crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t doubt that. She likes him, we know she does. It’s clear.”

“Then why did she leave?” Jolly questioned, his own pain for Noah making his jaw clench. “What the fuck happened to make her leave?”

I gazed over to Noah, my heart falling into my stomach at the broken sight of my brother. “He jumped. He jumped but Y/N wasn’t there yet.”

The three of us made a quick plan of action before Jolly and Folio went to help Noah up off the floor, his limp body dragging on the floor.

“Noah let’s get into bed,” Folio suggested.

“No. I need to finish this beat, and these fuckin’ lyrics in my head,” he pushed himself away from them, standing on two shaky feet but standing. He smacked his forehead over and over.

Jolly nodded. “We will, but first you need to get some sleep.”

He glared at the bed in front of him, a mess of the decision they made together.

“…the pillow.. she was on that one,” Noah pointed. “It smells like that fucking perfume, I don-wanna inhale that shit right now.”

There was so much venom in his voice when he spoke about Y/N and there was a part of me that hoped this wouldn’t last long. He had every right to be upset with her; he gave her his heart, and she walked away.

“Alright, then let’s get you some sleep in mine,” I said.

He licked his lips, an unreadable look flashing in bloodshot eyes. “I still fucking taste her. It’s a poison that I should have fucking avoided.”

“Can’t help you with that, brother,” Folio tried to joke.

No one laughed

“No. I need to finish this-,” Noah stumbled over to his suitcase to snatch a piece of paper and pen, something he always kept on him.

I stepped in front of him to hold him steady, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. It was as if it was trying to break free to chase after Y/N; just for her to stomp on it again.

No, I shook my head, you can’t let your own anger deter you from trying to fix Noah. You can be angry about the situation but not her. It’s no one's fault.

“You don’t like to write when you’re not home,” I tried to take the pen and paper away from him.

“I don’ care nicKLas.” He pushed past me to fall onto his bed, ass first on the pillow. “I have to, right now.”

Sensing the sudden thick tension, not knowing what the next thing would be that would set him off, Jolly gave a slow nod toward Noah.

“Alright. Let it go, man. Let us hear it.”

Even though they weren’t written down, Noah still burned his gaze into the empty page in front of him. Through the slurred words, the ache that poured out of him brought chills to my bones.

“How quick it gets lonely here at the top. Her skin feels unholy but I’m still drawn. The morals I’m holding, you know they’re gone.”

Fuck, that was good.

Noah’s eyes snapped over to us. “Why aren’t you helping me get down this beat?”

I held my arms out to the empty room. “We don’t have our stuff here Noah, this isn’t usually how we do this.”

“Fuck,” he ran a shaky hand over his chin. “Ok well then here! Voice clip it.”

While he tossed his phone to Jolly, who barely caught it in time, I gave Folio a look of luck before slipping out of the room, almost running into Matt who stood at the open doorway.

“Who the fuck is blasting Snuff by Slipknot at four in the morning?” He asked with fury.

No doubt someone called the front desk and complained who in turn complained to Matt.

“Woah, what the fuck is going on right now?” Matt took a tentative step into the room, eyeing the situation.

“Didn’t you hear, fucker?” Noah whipped his head towards us so fast, that the braids smacked around his face. “She ran away, she’s the fuckin same.”

He hiccuped a sob. “Angels lie to keep control.”

“Fuck's sake,” Jolly pinched his nose with a sigh.

I gave Matt’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just keep an eye on Noah, he’s not in a good place right now.”

“Fuck, don’t tell me-,” he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his sweater.

“Just- let me handle it man,” I slipped past him out of the room and quick steps took me to the elevator.

I bounced on the soles of my feet as I repeatedly pushed the down floor button and cursed when the doors finally opened. Blackness took over as I let the images of Noah sitting there broken carry me to the room, hand pounding on the door.

Time be damned. I couldn't care less if she was asleep right now. How could she be asleep while my best friend, my brother, was fucking dying on the inside?

Not again. I refused to let him sink for another.

“Nick?” Chase squinted with the sudden light blasting in from the hallway. “Everything alright?”

“Where is she?”

He continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes. “Who? Y/N?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Is she here?”

I tried to peer past him but only saw someone with auburn curls walk behind Chase, leaving a gentle hand on his back. “What’s going on?”

“Nick’s looking for Y/N,” Chase informed Malcolm.

He stared at me confused. “Last I heard she was going to hang out with Noah. Did something happen?”

“What the fuck do you think?” I snapped but then let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole but she left. Noah’s a fucking wreck. It seemed like they had a great time- so what’s the deal? I thought she cared for him. Why, why would she hurt my friend?”

I was the middle child, great at negotiating, great at being the middle man. The one who would try to settle things. I was on Noah’s side with this one, she’s my friend, but he’s my brother. Even I didn’t see this coming. I tried to remain neutral when I asked them and tried not to look annoyed.

“Dude- she does, she cares for him a lot,” Malcolm spoke while tying up his curls. “Noah makes her so happy. We haven’t seen her glow like that in years, I just- I don’t know. We don’t know why she would leave. Unless…”

Chase quickly pushed Malcolm back into the room slightly. “Dude, no. That’s not our business to tell. She has to be the one to decide.”

“What?!” I asked.

They knew something, and I needed to know; right now.

“That’s her business, not ours,” Chase said, rubbing his head.

“What?,” I scoffed. “Is she fucking dying or something? Is she okay?”

“No, no, she’s fine. All I’ll say is she does things in her life that can require extra attention. But like I said, that’s not for us to discuss, even with you man, sorry,” he pauses and says again. “Is he- is Noah alright?”

“Honestly? No. He isn’t, he’s drunk and writing right now. He’s gonna feel like hell when we have to leave for the airport in a few hours.”

Malcolm sighed. “I’m sorry dude. When Y/N comes back, we’re going to have to have a long talk. We know she cares for your friend, Nick. Her heart is in the right place- we just don’t know where the hell her mind is. We’ll figure it out.”

I nod and smile slightly, in agreement. My eyes want to convey a lot more. Y/N’s a good person, but she broke my friend's heart tonight. This is why I was so hesitant about this relationship with him and Y/N. I warned Noah not to jump yet, but he did.

All I could do right now until she came back was nod a quick thanks to them and hope that Y/N would confide in them. I wanted to fix my friend's broken soul so often, and so often I tried and succeeded. I wasn’t sure I could with this one- I needed to let them go through this on their own. But I’ll be damned if I let my friend suffer.

“Alright well, let me know what you find out, please.”

“Absolutely, anytime man. We’ll talk,” Chase reassured with a nod, Malcolm bumping fists with mine.

When I made it back to Noah’s room, I noticed the guys huddled around Noah’s slumped body in the bed, clutching the pillow Y/N laid on close to his chest, snoring loudly, and another empty bottle of Hennessy next to him.

“Shit,” I breathed. “Another one?”

Matt sighed defeated. “We tried, man. But his strength when he’s drunk and angry is something not to mess with. You know that.”

I nodded because I knew that. All too well.

“He only fell asleep about five minutes ago. I don’t know how we’re going to get him up in two hours so we can make our flights,” Folio wondered.

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured them. “Did he finish writing?”

“Yeah,” Matt slowly went towards the end of the bed, gently pulling the book from under Noah’s arm; pen falling from his hands.

“What does it say?” My brows raised as I took the paper in my hands; my brothers' broken words staring back at me.

Bitter ends to the nights. I’m along for the ride. Out of breath, out of time. Everything has a price. You can be all I got, what’s the difference? Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions. All I know, all I know is bad, bad decisions.

“Gotta admit, it’s fucking good,” Jolly said while he read the lyrics over my shoulder.

I bit my lip. “Yeah.”

Folio yawned loudly while stretching, exhausted body falling onto my bed. “Get ready boys because once we’re home, we won’t have a moment of peace. We’re writing a new record.”

NICK R.

You could cut the tension with a knife in this boarding gate right now.

The sun barely broke through the thick glass of the windows as Bad Omens and Hollow Souls sat on other ends of the gate, waiting for our flights to be called. With tired but intent eyes, I watched Noah as he kept his eyes cast down to his hands, fingers intertwining with each other as he picked away the black nail polish. It was as though it was his subconscious way of chipping pieces of Y/N away, the way he washed his hands in the restroom earlier, scrubbing her off him.

His nails were surely, going to bleed if he kept picking at them, I wanted to intervene, say stop that. I needed him to process his feelings. I so badly wanted to scream in this airport, wake the fuck up, to them both. But I kept my reservations.

And just like him, Y/N looked rough. It was clear neither of them, or well any of us got any sleep last night.

Where the fuck did they go so wrong together?

Noah had been a fan of hers ever since that night on my pull-out couch but the first time they met each other almost 2 months ago, their eyes were bright with a vibrant gaze. Almost like searchlights attempting to find something. The lights found it, but they were almost too intense, almost like bystanders. Through all the confusion, I knew deep within me it wouldn’t be long until the searchlights were searching again, just a matter of when.

Us?

We weren’t allowed to see what was being found. We should have looked away, and avoided the crash. But to see them now, those same eyes swollen, discolored and raw red, the blood vessels wanting to leave their faces made it harder to look away.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, now out of the braids and cascading around his shoulder, and let his eyes graze over towards Y/N, who was resting her head against Chase's shoulder. It was brief, the look of agony in them, but he looked away before she could catch him.

The airline called out for Vegas first; Chase and Y/N’s flight. Then our flight back home to LA was called out seconds later.

Those two sets of eyes, continue to gaze and plead and beg until their shoulders are tapped, Jolly to Noah and Chase to Y/N. As he stood, Noah adjusted the bag on his shoulder and waved his fingers in a peace sign toward the three members of Hollow Souls. This wasn’t how we wanted our new friendships and tour to end.

He wants to be in her life. He still does, otherwise, he wouldn’t have done that. I thought to myself as I noticed Y/N gave her one peace sign to all of us.

She’s sorry, she wants him in her life and regrets it.

I could fucking see it. This was going to be a long ride with these two.

As we all stood with our carry-on bags, ready to walk towards our gate, I gave Chase a knowing nod who immediately pulled out his phone, avoiding the eyes of Y/N, to send me a message.

I’ll tell you everything

Noah slept the entire flight, not speaking a word or even opening his eyes. Now, as we pulled up to the house he said with Jolly, Orie, Michael, and Jesse, Noah still had yet to say one word. Folio offered to stay with but we knew he had someone to meet back home in Virginia so we told him we had it from here.

“You sure?” Folio asked before we boarded the plane.

I nodded. “Yeah, go back to Virgina. Tell her we said hey.”

I, on the other hand, was a different story.

“I’m not going home right now,” I told Noah as I set my bags down in their living room. They had little extra space, but I didn’t care. I’d sleep on the couch as long as I was near my brother. “I won’t leave you in this state, Noah.”

“Nick, I’m a grown man. I’ll be alright,” he sighed while popping open the bottle of aspirin, and swallowing two pills dry.

For the hangover.

“I know you are,” I nodded. “Just let me be there for you, okay?”

NOAH

If it wasn’t terrible enough that not only did my fucking love life shut down, but the world had to as well?

Two months. It’s been almost two months since the tour ended and this pandemic took over the world, forcing us to stay stuck inside. While the rest of the guys went stir-crazy after the first few weeks, I spent the solace writing, drinking, and trying to forget about her.

The latter lasted only a few minutes once we returned home; her scent being stained into my skin, her touch engraved deep into my bones it made it hard to get out of bed. I see her in all my mirrors. Her reflection was haunting me relentlessly like a ghost.

Hennessy and Jack have become my friends in the last few weeks at home. I knew the guys were worried; I didn’t need them to worry. I was fine.

Y/N and I are friends.

Right, then how come you haven’t texted her in weeks?

Because she’s been busy with the move, I retorted back to my own thoughts.

Malcolm texted our Hollow Omens group chat to let us know that Y/N was settling in nicely in their new apartment in Los Angeles. We can come by anytime for a housewarming party but immediately I ignored that. Wouldn’t it be fucking awkward?

Trey wasn’t home when she and Chase showed up to pack her things so they could leave without incident.

Even with her cat Salem.

Chase sent a few pictures of the cat in the group chat, long black fur lying on his chest. I never responded, simply liking the messages before setting my phone on silent the rest of the night. I noticed that Y/N rarely ever responded in the chat as well, only when Chase or Malcolm would ask her something but she would only reply with emojis or a short ‘ok.’

The pandemic was only getting started and I could feel the suffocation kick in. I felt alone; utterly alone. I put all my heart into this one woman, a woman I yearned for, for a long time.

The loud ringing of the doorbell pulled me from my melancholy thoughts and I sighed, almost forgetting I ordered food an hour ago. I was in such a trance I hadn’t realized the noise of the loud bell eased me out of my rocking back and forth on the couch.

I didn’t even notice I did that.

I took a massive swig of my jack and clenched my teeth as it burned all the way down my throat, heart racing a mile a minute.

Calm down, calm down.

Time slowed, or passed by in a blaze? I wasn’t sure the longer I sat in the somewhat dark living room, open but untouched food container on the table in front of me as the chicken scratch of my handwriting teased back at me.

Why’s this always gotta happen to me? I should have known. I never fail to never learn from mistakes, still throwing stones. Blood signed, we made it a pact. Yours dried out; you took it back.

The alcohol was like battery acid as I took another large swing of Jack but it wasn’t kicking in strong enough. I kept swinging until the burn covered up my pain.

Harper’s soft whines from her perch next to me on the couch pulled at my heartstrings so knowing Orie wasn’t here, I fed her a few pieces of my cold dinner.

The front door opened, voices carrying from the entryway into the living room and my heart hammered with the panic of them seeing me like this. I hid the bottle under the pillow and tossed the small bag into the garbage from my food.

“Shit, Noah. Why are you sitting in the dark?” Jolly asked while turning on the lamp next to the sofa I was sitting on.

“Hi,” My voice was soft because now with the bright lights, the room was spinning.

“You working on another song?” He eyed the bottle that stuck out from behind the pillow, irritation in his eyes.

They matched my own.

I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. “Yes, man, what do you think?”

“Don’t be hostile, go eat and let me look over it,” Jolly motioned to my food while he reached for the pad of paper.

“You can’t just tell me what to do,” I snapped while reaching for it before he could.

“Noah, you gotta eat so you don’t get hungover. Let me look at the song,” he took the pad of paper and walked over to the other side of the room. Once he fell into the chair in the corner of the room, Jolly nodded up at me. “Fucking eat, Noah”

I sighed and grabbed my food to chew slowly, “Okay Dad”

Jesse stalked into the living room a few moments later while stuffing his phone into his pocket. “Nick said there might be news of the ban lifting completely by the end of the month. Which means we can get a change of scenery. Might be good for us.”

Holy Hades, this is one of those times I wished I lived alone.

Shortly after getting back home, the pandemic started and Nick ended up getting stuck with us in LA. He didn’t mind, more time for us to hang and chill, but now that procedures were lifting slowly at a time, he took the first opportunity to fly back to Virginia to get things settled there.

“Hey,” Jesse sat on the arm of Jolly’s chair. “Is this another song?”

Even though my head was throbbing with the ongoing hangover, I leaned back into the couch while nodding and Harper now rested her whole body in my lap. “It’s the third one.”

“Oh? Nice! Let me see” He began flipping through the pages.

Normally, I’d jump and take the book from his hands, but right now this room was in spirals. I was sick to my knees. All I wanted to do was call her, and have her tell me it’ll be fine. But I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, and she wasn’t ready to talk to me either.

Clearly.

Malcolm texted me the other day, outside of the Hollow Omens group chat to tell me that Y/N wasn’t doing okay and she missed me. She wanted to talk to me and wanted us over one night when the bans were lifted. But if that was the truth, then how come the last text I had on my phone from her was right before she came to my hotel room that night?

Her unholy skin tasted like the forbidden fruit, all the morals we held that night gone. No gods, no religion. Just our bad decisions. Memories of the way she looked while on top of me burned into my brain and I couldn’t forget the way she felt coming undone.

It paralyzed me so much so that I left Malcolm on read for two days.

Thanks man, glad it worked out. Be in touch.

Snapping out of my drunken thoughts, I noticed Jesse was still reading the pages, not giving a damn I’m leaving my heart out on the table in front of him, bleeding all over while he was reading it.

“Bad Decisions. Nice,” Jesse nodded before flipping back to the new song I was working on. “Nowhere to go? Angsty. I like it.”

I shrugged and stopped mid-chew. “Yeah, I know. It’s what I do, Jesse.”

Arrogant? No, it was smart; I had to channel this shit somewhere. I knew this, no matter what, I’ll always write a fucking song. I wanted to panic, and I did, but the liquor was doing its job.

Jolly went to grab the guitar while Jesse moved to the couch, Harper now lying in his lap.

Traitor.

As I reached for the bottle of Jack this time, Jolly hastily ripped it from my hands and to exhausted to fight, I let him.

“No. Let’s add a chorus to Nowhere To Go, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah, I got something in mind.” I took the notebook back to jot some more words down.

After a few moments, I read the entire thing a few times, making sure it was perfect before I gave it to him.

“Start with this?” He asked.

I nodded then soon, my thoughts became words into the air.

“Hear me out, I’m sorry, but I’m a little less than sold. I’ve been around, heard all the stories you said you never told. You’re used to speaking in tongues to feel like you’re in control. Now you’ve got nowhere to run, now you’ve got nowhere to go. Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice? Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice?”

“Fuck, that sounds amazing, Noah. Let’s finish this.” Jolly mused,

That night, we finished Bad Decisions and Nowhere to Go.

Folio

Noah began smoking weed again, on top of all the alcohol he’d been consuming the last few weeks, he was on a downward spiral. It was only in small doses but that’s how the drinking started; he took up this faux savior persona.

“I can save myself,” he’d say after one of us would bring up how worried we were about him.

It was a load of shit. Any of us could tell you that.

This was the first time I’d seen him since the tour ended, all those months ago, but time away did nothing to help his mental state. Noah was breaking, piece by piece, and now that the ban lifted, we could visit again. Hence Nick and I were hanging out in their living room, a soft beat of music playing on the speakers.

Noah came bounding down the stairs, smelling of whiskey and weed, eyes glassy, rosy, and filled with rage. His hands were full of ink as he’d been writing nonstop, with everlasting consistency.

As he cascaded, his stomps were harsh, and if he realized it, Noah didn’t give a shit. When he reached into the kitchen and slammed the cupboard door wide open, he grabbed a bag of pita chips with tight force, breaking a few chips no doubt.

“Why are these almost gone? I just fucking bought them?” He snapped with a smart-ass attitude.

All of us eyed each other wearily, unsure how or even if we should respond but it was Orie who muttered under his breath. “We had some with the hummus we bought earlier. Chill the fuck out, Noah. It’s not that deep.”

Noah tossed the bag onto the counter. “It is that deep when it's something of mine. Fucking ass if you want it. Why is it so hard for people to communicate?”

Michael, who usually was the quiet, almost forgotten one, finally snapped. “We’re being patient with you. But we’re not your fucking punching bag.”

Jolly’s head snapped over to Michael from his spot on the floor in front of the couch with wide eyes full of heat, I was sure vanilla ice cream would melt. Jolly was the one who let all of us know to take it easy on Noah; it was a hard time in his life, and the last thing he needed was one of us fighting with him.

Noah hadn’t spoken to Y/N in weeks and we could physically see the imaginary soul ties that bound them together withering away, even though they were within miles of each other now that she lived here. Miles apart but still couldn’t gain the fucking courage to grow up and speak to each other.

Michael sighed his apology while running a hand over his face. “We’re here for you, man. We’re being patient. But you can’t keep going on like this.”

“You’re drowning right now and the painful to watch, you haven’t been this bad in years. Let us help you,” Nick spoke with a shaky breath.

Out of all of us, it hurt him the most to see Noah like this because he’d seen it before; only this time it was worse.

“You can’t help me, nothing to help me with. I’m fine,” Noah shrugged before reaching for another beer.

“You’re in denial and it’s ridiculous,” I said, tired of seeing and hearing the same bullshit. “Noah, I think you should see someone.”

“A shrink? Seriously?” He snorted.

“I think it can help you, besides the way music does,” I offered.

“I don’t need you to help me, I just want the racing to stop. The racing in my mind going miles a minute,” He slammed a finger to the side of his head repeatedly. “We have so much shit to do, and I can’t see anything but what happened right now. It’s a fuckin loop in my brain. Everything just keeps glitching.”

Noah then paced the length of the kitchen, red sweater pulled tightly against his chest and hood over his eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry man, I’m sorry I just- fuck” he spat, a tear fell out of his eye but was quick to wipe it away.

Vulnerability be damned

“We’re your friends, we love you. We were stuck in this fucking house together for months. We can’t go anywhere and you don’t want us to worry? Well, too fucking bad because we do,” Orie explained with a tense-looking Harper in his lap.

She didn’t like the sudden noise but didn’t want to leave her dad.

Noah’s glossy eyes took in all our faces one by one, lingering a few seconds longer than the last.

“I just need time, I don’t know how to handle this, it’s- it’s weird for me. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve fallen this hard, this fast,” he admitted while swallowing the lump in his throat.

That much was true. He’s had exes, one-night stands; hell, he’s been in love before- but I’ve never seen it develop this way. We’ve never seen him fall from such a high altitude this quickly. His guards are usually pointed like sharp knives, but it was so easy for him to dull them down for her.

I only hoped Y/N knew that. This was a big deal. I watched my friend crumble and crack like glass.

Time would only tell when they would repair the damage done here. I only hoped it would soon because we hated to see him bruise so easily. He’s right on the edge I fear, one more thing, one more thing and he’ll fall completely into a darkness we wouldn’t be able to pull him from.

“All I do is drink to numb the pain because all the good days we had together got taken away when my head turned on. I keep asking myself ‘why am I not good enough for her?’ How the fuck can I be good enough for her when I don’t even know what good enough is?”

None of us had an answer for him; the only one that did, he was purposely ignoring.

With a lone tear falling from his eyes, Noah wiped it away with the back of his hand, sniffles echoing in the kitchen.

“It’s so hard to watch myself win when a loser's all I've been.”

NOAH

I lay in my bed, neon glows emanating from behind my bed soaking the walls, as I stared up at the ceiling. My mind was racing so face in pace with my heart and I tried so hard to just breathe; fucking breathe to ease it. This pain was like a burning coal I was walking but within a second, all the pain was gone. I couldn’t take it anymore, the drinking, smoking, and not eating affected my health. I was skin on bones at this point.

Keaton's voice rang in my ears. “You’re a shell, Noah. Holding in these shattered nerves. A skeleton that's lost its skin and desperately wants back in.”

Tattooed hands covered my face as I blew a shaky breath into them.

“I need a sign from you, man. Give me something to know I haven’t messed it up yet,” I cried.

A second later, my phone buzzed from the spot on my bed, and through cloudy tears, I sucked in a breath when I saw Chase’s name appear with a new text.

Chase: Hey man, I haven’t heard from you the last few days, I wanted to check in with you. I know this may seem out of nowhere, but we’re worried about you and just hope you’re doing alright.

I stared up at the ceiling again, my heart relaxing its frenzied beat for a moment. “Thank you.”

Hey, all good. Sorry for the late reply. Appreciate it, doing just fine.

Chase: that’s great, but I’ve been hearing other things, so I don’t buy that. Look, again, this isn’t my place but I know Y/N hurt you that night. I can’t sit here and apologize on her behalf, but, I can at least tell you this: she isn’t doing well either; and as someone with two fucking eyes; I can see how much you mean to each other. Some birdies have been telling me you’re drinking yourself into a coma and acting a fool. I apologize for the harshness, but let me ask you this, do you think Y/N wants another Trey? You’re fucking better than that, aren’t you? Do you want to end up as another deadbeat musician with nothing to show for it but a bottle? No, I don’t know you that well but I can see you’re not that guy.

Do yourself a favor and do fucking better. Because she deserves better and so do you. So y’all can sort this soap opera shit out. Talk to you soon, I fucking hope. ✌️

With my phone clattering to the floor, the message left on read, I continued to lie in my bed; the pillow suffocating my mouth and nose.

“I’m not Trey. I’m fucking better than him,” I sat up quickly in bed, my hangover still raging inside my head.

Music is all I have, it’s all lived for-that was until I met her.

With the small get-together happening downstairs still, I ran to the bathroom across the hall to throw up any contents of lingering alcohol and pita chips. I washed my face and brushed my hair out, for the first time in weeks looking somewhat presentable.

“Get it together, you fucking dick.” I pointed a firm finger at my reflection in the mirror, thankful I didn’t see the ghost of Y/N staring back at me. “Do it for the band, do it for your music. Do it for her.”

To some, my shaky words might not have a strong belief but they did to me. It left me with the belief that miracles, no matter how inexplicable or unbelievable, are real and can occur without regard to the natural order of things. Keaton’s sign proved that.

“Just come back to me,” I whispered with trembling lips.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

DANCING IN THE DARK!

the kinds of gestures that leave you on your knees (prompt list)

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): slightly suggestive content

ISAGI YOICHI!

heavy breathing after a kiss!

Isagi’s normally so, so caring and kind. Truly the spitting image of a dreamboy, it’s undeniable that his love for you runs deeper than anything else in his life (second only to his love for soccer). But even then, there are moments when his love becomes greedy, as if there’s something darker lurking underneath the surface of his bubbly but introverted facade. It’s in these snapshots, where he’s pressing his lips against yours hungrily, hands pawing at your waist and hips, practically panting into your mouth. He swallows thickly, and his blue eyes flash with need. He wants you all to himself. He wants to taste you, burn the tingling sensation dancing on his lips into your heart, take every little bit you’re willing to give him until it feels like every part of his brain has been stuffed with you. Isagi doesn’t like letting this animalistic side of him get the better of him, but he can only deny the hungry desire inside of him for so long… 

“Fuck… Oh, god,” Isagi breathes into your mouth. He tastes sweet, like tangerines and honey, yet the way he has you clamped down onto his lap, big hands wandering all over your hips, is everything but sweet. His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, and his eyes devour the sight of you with your clothes slightly disheveled and tangled in his arms. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I could say that to you,” you laugh, weaving your fingers through his short hair. “What’s gotten into you? Normally you get all shy when you want kisses.”

“I-I don’t know…,” he chokes out. And he’s pouncing on you again—pressing his lips against yours, sucking on your bottom lip and practically shoving his tongue down your throat. The usual tentativeness to his kisses is gone, replaced with something carnal and possessive. His breathing is heavy in your ears, and he digs his fingers into your soft flesh. You can feel him grabbing at you through your clothes, acting like you’re going to disappear into thin air if he lets go.

He barely pulls himself off of you. He’s still a hair’s breadth away, and the air around the two of you is thick and hot. Crackling with a kind of unprecedented tension, Isagi gasps against your body. 

“God, I can’t get enough of you…,” he shakily chuckles. “This is all your fault. Take responsibility for me.”

ITOSHI RIN!

pulling them by their belt to kiss them!

Rin isn’t someone who’s super expressive with his love. His actions speak louder than his words: very “show, don’t tell”-esque. You have no doubts that he loves you more than anybody else in the world, but sometimes you know that you have to be the one to make the first move in order to egg him into showing you some sweetness. Whether it’s sneaking a kiss first thing in the morning or leaning against his shoulder when you sit next to him, it’s these small things that tip him into something grander. Small kisses turn into one right after another, hours passing by while the two of you disappear into your own world. Still, in his eyes, there’s something so irresistible about the way you yank him closer to you. You have him wrapped around your little finger, and you have no qualms about using that fact to its full potential. All Rin asks is that you be fully prepared for anything that happens next. You’re the one who initiated, after all.

“Why are you standing so far away?” You whine, sidling up to your boyfriend. Rin glances up from his phone, completely oblivious to you bouncing all around him. He grunts out something that you can’t quite make out, and you still huff out your cheeks dramatically to make sure that your frosty partner got the point.

“Jeez, it’s almost like you don’t want to be seen with me or anything,” you playfully scold him, wiggling your finger and everything. Rin rolls his eyes and sighs, his lower lashes fluttering as he blinks exasperatedly at you.

“What do you want me to do then? Fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness?” He mutters. You pretend to think. In all honesty, you wouldn’t be too opposed to such a thing, but you’re not sure the mental image of your usually stoic Rin groveling at your feet is something you need to see come to reality just yet.

“Nah. How about… something like this?” You reach forward, and hooking your fingers around his belt loops, you gently tug him towards you. Rin blinks in surprise, but he lets himself stumble forward towards you, his hips colliding into yours. You grin up at him, and you let him go to grab at his face, pulling him down for a quick smooch.

Rin presses his lips into a thin line when you pull away, and the light shade of pink dusting his cheeks is confirmation that your plan was a success. “You’re… so lame.”

You motion for him to lean down again, wanting another kiss. “Sure. If that’ll make you feel better, Rinnie.”

ITOSHI SAE!

losing your mind when they tilt your chin to look you in the eye!

Sae’s pride comes before anything else in his life. His bark is just as nasty as his bite, and while he cares for you deeply in his own special way, it’s clear that the reins of your relationship are in his hands. He wants you to find your own pride in knowing that you’re someone that’s special to him, yet he isn’t afraid to throw his weight around you. There’s nothing he loves more than getting you all flustered, relishing the way you can barely look at him in the eyes and acting all nonchalant as if he isn’t the one instigating all this trouble. He likes knowing that he can have that kind of effect on you, and he’ll slowly up his antics one by one just so he can watch you lose all semblance of control around it. If you confront him about it, he’ll deny it to the moon and back, but everyone knows how much he enjoys cementing his place in your heart over and over again. You should consider yourself lucky to have someone like him trying so hard for you.

Sae pauses mid-sentence, poking his eyes up from the game he was explaining to you as part of his prep for his upcoming matches. Your own eyes are half-glazed over, no doubt from doing your best to keep up with his analyses and soccer lingo despite only knowing a handful of things. It wasn’t like you were completely clueless about soccer, but most of the things you did know, you had picked up just by being close to him.

“Are you even listening?” He asks. You bob your head slightly, trying your best to indicate your interest despite your clear confusion. Sae finds it cute that you do your best to support him despite floundering around like a newborn dear. “I don’t know… You look pretty lost.”

“I’m paying attention, I promise!” You pipe up, shaking your head as if to clear your thoughts. “I mean… I can’t understand everything, but I think I kinda get it. It makes sense when you explain it. I don’t really know what I’m looking at when it’s just the game though…”

The redhead clicks his tongue as if in warning. You snap back to life, only to see him lean over to where you’re sitting next to him. Your heart threatens to stop when one of his toned hands grabs at your face. He firmly grips your chin, tilting your gaze up so that you can’t escape that pointed gaze of his. His teal eyes are enrapturing, like a hawk honing in on its next target, and you feel your voice die out in the back of your throat.

“That’s unacceptable,” he hums. You know he’s teasing you solely from his expression. The ghost of a smug smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he purrs at you less like he’s scolding you and more like he’s trying to elicit a reaction from you.

Flustered, you squeal out, “I-I can do better!” 

“Can you?” He repeats, clicking his tongue once more. “Show me then. Don’t disappoint me, love.”

HIORI YO!

their mouth at your ear, whispering!

Hiori likes to take things one step at a time. Relationships are a two-way road, and he likes seeing your bond with him progress with him in an equal manner. This translates to taking things slow, learning things about one another with time, and making sure everything the two of you do comes from a place of communication and respect. But even Hiori has his moments where he wants things to heat up between the two of you. He wants to see the way your eyes widen at the sight of him, your body craving his touches and his voice, drinking up the way everything about you simply meshes so deliciously well with him. It’s such a thrill to him, and it’s something he’s never felt before. He’s hooked, wanting to discover all these new feelings with you and unlocking parts of himself that he’s never known before. The rush is indescribable, and he finds himself chasing after it time and time again.

“Hiori…,” you whisper. He feels heavy on top of you, but you don’t mind. There’s something so awfully intimate about being chest-to-chest with him, limbs all tangled up, and hearts starting to beat in sync together. “Kiss me again. Please, kiss me again, Hiori.”

Hiori complies, and without another word, his mouth is on yours. His kisses are curious, soft, the warmth of his lips quickly spreading out onto your own. His face is flushed, and you can feel your pulse pounding in between your ears. He’s always had this kind of unfair effect on you, always pushing you to the brink of your own limits, but this is the first time either of you have ever really acted so impulsively on these instincts.

When he manages to yank himself away from you, Hiori rests his head next to yours. You can feel his breath fan out against your neck and the shell of your ears, and when he gasps out, the shivers that run down your spine feel nothing short of electric. 

“I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he laughs weakly. His voice is hushed, but you can still make out the dark undertones his words hold. He sounds like he’s holding himself back, the tone of his voice strained like he’s afraid of hurting you. Yet you can tell how badly he wants you, his grip on you so tight that it feels like he’s trying to imprint how you feel in his hands down to base instinct. “You make me act so strangely.”

“You do the same to me.” You wrap an arm around his chest. “Don’t hold yourself back. I want you, Hiori.”

OLIVER AIKU!

holding on by a thread before just losing control!

The last descriptors anyone would use for Aiku would be someone who can control themselves and someone who thinks before they act. Yet, despite knowing how terrible he can be, Aiku finds a way to make himself absolutely irresistible. He’s always egging you on to take these risks, to discover the worst versions of yourself that you didn’t know existed. And had you been any more clear-minded you would hate yourself, but at the same time, being with Aiku is so fun and exhilarating. It’s freeing, living the way he does, with a hedonistic thirst for life, and you understand why Aiku acts the way he does. Now that you’ve had a taste of that life, there’s no turning back, and Aiku’s more than welcome to help you let loose. There’s no need to hold onto control when he’s around; all he wants is for you to quit thinking and to let your heart and body take the reins. You don’t need to hold anything back when Aiku’s in the equation. 

“Are you sure about this….?” You ask, looking up at him with wide eyes. Aiku’s chest is broad and wide, and his shirt is slightly unbuttoned from a long night of dancing and flirting. You don’t know why he was so insistent on being with you though, turning down his usual posse of pretty girls and focused more on spending the night with you.

And you? God, you could barely keep your own paws off of him. He looked downright majestic. Stands of his hair are splayed against his forehead, slick with sweat. His chains hang from his exposed chest, and he tugs your hips against his in a silent answer.

“What are you so scared of?” He asks back in response. His odd-colored eyes gleam devilishly, and you hate the way your heart squeezes with need. You want him, and you want him now. He knows this, and his lax, playboy attitude is only making your desire worse.

His hand travels from your hips, and he traces the curves of your body. His fingers trickle up to your waist, curving against the shape of your chest and neck, and he cups your face with his big hands as he pulls you close to his face. His lips are right there, and all you need to do is tip yourself forward slightly to close the gap. 

“Don’t overthink it, angel.” His thumb traces over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth seductively. “Don’t deny yourself what you want most.”

x

[l1tw1ck]

Bottom!FTM Alex x Top!Masc Reader

{Request} | AFAB Language Used

CW: Daddy Kink, Face Fucking, Rough Sex, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Choking, Dom/Sub, Dacryphilia, Orgasm Denial, Creampie

📝 W.C 1,103

You've been married to Alex for over a year, and everything's been great up until he started doing things that pissed you off.

He once bought dozens of eggs, even though you have your own chickens, and stuffed the fridge full of them. You had to give them out to the town while he cried about 'protein'.

Or the other time he left his workout equipment all over the house. Or when he dropped a dumbbell on the machine you were building, it was for the best, but it didn't stop you from getting mad.

You graciously let it go every time but the anger was building up. And you finally snapped when he started to flood the bathroom during his bath, the water started to slip through the door and ruin the new wood.

You open the door angrily, seeing Alex standing over the flooding tub half naked, only wearing panties and an undershirt.

You shut off the water and pick him up by his neck, slightly choking him. "You're getting on my last nerve."

Alex smirks.

"You did this all on purpose, didn't you?" You growl and drag him into the bedroom and drop him onto the bed. “Why?”

He shivers beneath you, biting his lip and looking at you with slight fear on his face. "I did.." He whispers. “I wanted you to be rough with me…”

“You want me to be rough, huh?” You pull your half hard cock out and pump it to full hardness, Alex watching intently. “Come here.”

Alex scrambles off the bed and kneels in front of you.

“Apologize.” You tease the tip of your cock on his cheek.

“I- I’m sorry, Daddy.” Alex tries to maintain eye contact.

You move your cock to his lips and he immediately opens them. “Your body should only be used to take my cock, not to annoy me.” You tug on his tank top, ripping it apart.

Alex moans, in complete agreement with you. You slide into his mouth and grip his hair, forcing yourself all the way down his throat before creating a rhythm. Tears sprout in Alex’s eyes as you ruthlessly fuck his face. He holds onto your legs tightly for balance, happily taking your cock despite the discomfort.

“See how well you're taking me? This is your only purpose.” You grin. You and Alex have already established that he's yours before anything else. Your husband, your slut, your cocksleeve. And he embraces those titles with a wide grin or a tear stained face.

He rolls his eyes back in pleasure, wanting so desperately to touch himself but knows he can't. He just kneels there and takes it like a good boy. It almost makes you want to go easier on him. Almost.

“I’m lucky I was out taking pictures,” You grin, shaking the small camera hanging on your neck. “Now I can immortalize this pretty little face. Stay still for me.” You move your hand away from his hair and onto the camera, snapping shots of his expression.

You don't take long, but for Alex it feels like he was cockwarming you forever.

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?” You ask. “You want Daddy to cum in your mouth?”

Alex moans, trying to nod.

“Work for it.”

Alex quickly gets to work, bobbing his head and deep throating you.

“Attaboy.” You groan. “Doin’ so well. ‘M already getting close.”

His cheeks flush red, batting his long, wet eyelashes as he continues sucking you off. Your words ring through his ears, the praise and your tone almost makes him come untouched.

You thrust into his mouth a few times before coming down his throat, Alex accepting it all eagerly.

You move him off you and point to the bed. “Head down, ass up.” You command. Alex scrambles onto the bed, doing exactly as you said.

You climb up behind him and pull his underwear down. “You’re drenched.” You prod your thumb against his hole. “So desperate…Such a stupid way to get what you want.” You spank him. He apologizes the best he can with his throat sore from having you fuck his mouth.

“Don't do it again, or you’ll be sleeping over at your grandparents for a few days.” You spank him again. He whines at the thought of being deprived of sex.

You spank him a few good times, until his ass is sore and any slight touch makes him squirm, before finally entering him. You don't grace him with any time to adjust, fucking into his tight warmth with hard, fast thrusts that knock the wind out of his lungs.

You wrap your hand in his hair, pulling him back to hear his moans. You snap your hips against his ass, creating obscene noises around the house. At least your bed doesn't creak anymore.

“Ah- Da- Daddy~!” He moans, drooling from how rough you're treating him. “Yes- yes-! Fee- feels so guh- good!”

You spank his sensitive ass cheek, his pussy squeezing your cock in return. He’s such a slut, you think to yourself.

“I’m yo- your who- whore, Daddy~! So clo- close~!” His eyes roll to the back of his skull, drool dribbling down his chin. You stop your movements completely, robbing him of his orgasm. “Nngh- no- Daddy? Please- please-” He starts to sob.

“Did you forget? This is a punishment.” You turn him onto his back. “You can come when I do.” You wrap your hands around his neck, giving you stability as you fuck your poor fucked out husband. You watch gleefully as tears fall down Alex’s cheeks, he's always prettiest when he's crying and taking your cock.

He manages to choke out a warning every time he feels close, earning him multiple praises and making it harder for him to not come.

“Good job, warning Daddy like a good boy.” You kiss his forehead.

Alex tells you to stop again, unable to handle your words. You pull out and jerk off over his stomach, one hand on his neck. He watches in anticipation for you to spurt over his torso and finally give him his own release, only to have that taken as you enter him again. Maybe you'll come inside instead, he giggles to himself.

You use your free hand to rub his clit, bringing him closer and closer. “Come for me, sweetheart.” You urge as your climax approaches.

Alex doesn't ask twice, legs shaking as he squirts on your cock. You fill him up soon after, warming his insides with your spend.

“That's the last time you’ll come tonight.” You promise, looking at him with an evil grin.

[bambina-lita]

imagine being at one of those old dive bars in town with friends, and after a few drinks in, you get dared to take an egg from the giant glass container of fermented, pickled eggs. only thing is, you’re an absolute lightweight when it comes to alcohol, so in your buzzed brain, you somehow misinterpret the dare as to take them all. this container is absolutely huge, mind you, at least half your body weight. the bartender has no idea how old it is, he says it’s been there since they started working, and this is an older gentleman whose been here a long time.

while the bartender and many others as distracted by an ongoing game on television, you manage to lift the entire container and tip it back in your mouth like its a drink. again, in your drunken stupor, you think you can handle this like it’s a drink. so the softened eggs come rolling in down your mouth, down your throat, one by one. you can’t even decide how they taste, because you’re just blindly sucking it all down. gulp gulp gulp. loud, obnoxiously slurping sounds as your throat bobs visibly taking in each egg and all the fermenting juice. and the effect is almost instantaneous. your stomach protrudes like a slow rising dome. it peeks out from your sweater, and then before long, the massive, gravid bump is pushing back the whole fabric. halfway through, you are stuffed beyond measure. but you keep going. you want to finish the dare, don’t you? so you spread your legs a little to adjust to the growing new weight — a literal globe distending from your belly —and keep going. it’s a good thing you’re drinking the fluid too, otherwise your belly would be awkwardly shaped from all the eggs squishing and crammed inside you. instead, the additional bloat allows for them to slosh inside. chug chug chug, your idiotic brain is chanting as you keep going.

by the time you finish, a highlight of the game is over and the bartender realizes what you’ve just done. he shakes his head disapprovingly. some of the patrons notice your apparent late-end pregnant belly that was definitely not there when you first arrived. they all shake their heads, as if in agreement. what a stupid, attention-seeking girl. she’s gonna pay for it later, for sure.

you wobble your way back to your friend circle; half of them are mortified, the other half are mystified. someone playfully slaps your drum-tight belly playfully, it elicits a hot, hearty burp you didn’t even know was welded up in there. the alcohol is preventing you from feeling any pain over your error; you just feel so warm, so stuffed, so packed. is that such a bad thing on this cold night? it’s not. but what is bad is how distracted you are from all the mystery gases brewing and churning inside. your friends can hear it when they curiously place an ear beside your bump. it’s just like the patrons all said before — you’re gonna pay for later.

when it’s time to leave, one of your friends mercifully helps you shuffle towards their car. the bump hasn’t gone down by any means. you’ve been stifling burps for the last few minutes. swallowing them back down means you’re only keeping in all the air you foolishly sucked down, on top of the fermented egg jar. now you’re acutely aware of the tightness too. everything hurts. you’re shamelessly moaning open-mouthed, leaning back miserably in your car seat. your friends are just barely able to get the seatbelt around your distended middle. they tell you that they’ll be home soon. but at some point, they hit a bump. that jostles you terribly. your painfully stuffed stomach jostles and sloshes loudly for everyone to hear. and then;

frt. frt. frrrrrt.

it’s like an air leak from a balloon. you don’t do anything to stop it. the plethora of little noxious farts slips one by one in quick succession. everything is bubbling up inside of you. burps soon accompany it. you can taste the stench of the pickled eggs and your liquor. each burp, each fart, grows shamelessly louder and louder. your friends whine and moan, windows are immediately rolled open for the mercy of fresh air. at least the air being released is somewhat helping with the bloat. somewhat. barely. no, honestly, it’s barely made a dent in the damage you self inflicted.

one of your friends sitting next to you rubs your belly in small circles, as if to coerce some more air out. they’re one of the only ones who is sympathetic to your plight. that is, until they whisper in a voice which only you can hear; “i think you can handle more, don’t you?”

the one fragment of common sense remaining in your head screams no. that’s absolutely insane. why would you go any further than this with mindlessly stuffing yourself? you’re already a ticking time bomb, your belly is ready to implode from being so overly packed.

but you dumbly nod your head, a cute little squeak-fart following. in your head you’ve somehow conjured up the image of those pickled eggs as being your own brood now, so you’ve gotta eat for two now. or two hundred, or whatever the number was.

[jackassbrainrot]

head in the game [dico x gn!reader]

desc: you know that whole sucking someone's dick while they play video games? yeah that with dico

a/n: so very selfindulgent, like every fic I write that isn't a request (and sometimes even those are selfindulgent). I imagine this as more of a fwb situation than a relationship but you do you!

warnings: oral m!receiving, swearing, objectification (sorta?), calls reader a slut once, dico's just kind of mean in this one

word count: 564

You watch Dico sitting on the couch with a controller in his hands, eyes glued to the television screen. He's been in that same position for hours, not moving a muscle aside from the fingers mashing buttons in sequences that seemed random to everyone but him.

After hours of watching him play, your bored thought spiral into an idea you couldn't resist. You walk over to the couch, his gaze piercing through you as you obscure his vision for a moment before dropping to your knees in front of him. He looks down at you with a cocked eyebrow when your hands reach to unbuckle his belt, before turning his attention back to the game, a slight smile on his face.

Pulling his dick out of his pants, you spit in your hand before stroking it slowly, hearing his breath hitch. You continue your teasing, kissing the tip and licking the shaft with little kitten licks. His breathing gets deeper, trying to stay focused despite your touches.

Not satisfied with his reactions, you decide to take him into your mouth, sinking down until your nose was touching his pelvis. A low groan leaves his throat, eyes rolling back before looking back at the tv, not sparing you a glance. Two can play this game, you think to yourself. setting an unrelenting pace. You revel in the noises he's trying to hold back.

"If I lose this round because of you, you're fucking dead." He grits through his teeth, still not looking at you, and you smile as much as the cock in your mouth allows, keeping the same pace as before. His words only egg you on, your head bobbing up and down quickly, spit spilling from your stretched lips, making lewd wet noises. You feel his body tighten, and he cums in your mouth with a growl.

As you go to lift your head from his lap, you feel his hand keeping you in place. You make a confused noise, your mouth still full, making him smile cruelly down at you. "You didn't listen and now you're going to stay right where you are until I beat this shit." His words go straight to your crotch as you swallow around him. "And don't fucking move."

So you kneel there, keeping his dick warm in your mouth as he keeps playing. Your knees and jaw go sore but the stretch of your lips as he slowly hardens makes you whine with pleasure. He chuckles, thrusting into your mouth without warning, making you gag. You look up at him with wide eyes but his gaze is glued to the screen, acting like nothing has happened.

You don't even know how long you've been in that position before he puts the controller down, finally turning his attention to you. His hands grip the sides of your head, keeping you in place as he fucks your mouth without any care for your gagging or the spit and tears running down your face and neck. He pulls out of your mouth, one hand holding your head in place and the other jerking him off before white ropes fall onto your tear stained face.

"Think that's enough attention for you, slut?" He asks, putting his dick back into his pants and walking to the bathroom, leaving you desperate and horny on the floor, face dripping with cum and tears.

[indestructibleheart]

Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.

I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!

(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)

---

You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING

"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick." 

It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).

They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes.  Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.

Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or  the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor. 

Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.

Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.

"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."

Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth. 

"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"

Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically. 

Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.

This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.

He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"

June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.

"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."

June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."

At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"

"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"

Alex throws a home fry at her face. 

It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table. 

A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.

"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."

June balks. "Me?"

"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."

"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."

(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)

To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.

"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."

He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.

Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[crazyk-imagine]

Subscription Blurb

Based on this post

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

“Why’d we decide to do Christmas together again?” Javy asks.

Natasha raises a brow. “Why?”

“He hasn’t found a gift for our secret Santa,” Mickey chimes in.

“He kept saying he was busy every time we asked and now, he’s struggling,” Bob adds.

She nods, now understanding his problems.

“Finally, I beat you at something.”

“Does that really sound like a brag worthy thing?” She asks Jake.

“He’s always going on about how he's always got a plan and now he doesn’t while me, the amazing guy that I am does, yeah I’m gonna brag.” He smacks Javy’s shoulder. “How’s it feel?”

“Like a sin.”

“Here’s a Bible,” Bradley says, lifting one up for his friend.

“Where’d that come from?” Bob asks.

The mustached man shrugs, “I found it in the drawer.” He points to the night stand behind him.

Callie nods. “Right.”

“What? Did you guys think I just walked around with a Bible on me at all times? How dirty do you think I am?”

“We didn’t want to assume,” Mickey adds.

“Yeah, you know, we don’t judge,” Neal chimes in, closing the door behind him as he sets the food down on the nearest table.

“So, you guys think I’m a slut?”

“We prefer to use the term manwhore,” Jake tells him, snacking on a French fry.

“Of course, you would. You’re on the cover of them.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t hate if I have game and you don’t.”

“So, did everyone get a chance to figure out what they needed to get for their secret Santa?” Reuben asks, staring as the host of the Christmas party.

“I think everyone smart enough to walk in with something instead of coming in empty handed did,” Bob says.

“You never know.”

The bespectacled man shrugs, knowing he’s right.

“Who’s going first?”

No one raises their hand and the person beside him all nudge their seating partner.

“Okay, I’m pulling names out of a hat if we’re going that route.” Neal went first and he had-

“A mustache comb?” Bradley reads out loud, checking out the box.

“Yep.”

“I don’t hate it.”

“Everyone knew you’d love it,” Natasha tells him.

Next up was Callie and she had-

“A cocktail book.” Natasha opens the book and shakes her head. “And all the sugary “girly” drinks are bookmarked. Great, thanks, Cal.”

Mickey had Bob. “This is just for the nerds, but I found Star Trek uno and I know you don’t have a phaser, so I figured why not kill two birds with one stone and get you both.”

Bob’s eyes lit up when he opened the box and he actually saw the aforementioned items. “After this were playing uno and whoever doesn’t have Spock near the end of the round has to take a shot.”

“Damn, who knew Baby on Board could get intense,” Jake says, smiling as he pats the man’s arm.

“Shut up,” Mickey tells him.

Javy was next and he chose- “Logan, my man.”

The mentioned man raises his brows.

“Too much?”

The squad nods in unison.

“Alright, fine. Anyway, my gift for you and everyone here is me. Yeah,” he opens the envelope in his hands. “That’s it, yep.” He sucks in air through his teeth. “It’s another year of friendship, you, Logan, are the first to get your friendship membership has been renewed. Congratulations.”

Mickey raises his hand. “How do you cancel that transaction? I’m not feeling it this year.”

“Hey!” Jake stands up, holding his spiked egg nog (an old family recipe). “Seriously how do you do that? I don’t know if I want this to continue.”

Javy scoffs and shoves the man, who then trips over his own feet and manages to catch himself before he can fall on his face.

Natasha, Bob, Reuben, and Logan laugh until their stomachs hurt, and they can barely breath.

Bradley and Callie reach over to help the man regain his balance and make sure he sits down before he falls and potentially injures himself.

“Maybe we should just watch a movie or something,” Bob says.

“What are we watching?”

“Christmas!” The man in Christmas glasses (Jake) giggles in Callie's ear.

“Yeah. I know but if we could without the screaming and find a movie, lets.”

-

Taglist:

@blueoorchid @kmc1989

[anonymous-dentist]

So after Festa Junina the other week, I started thinking about what American holidays could be cool to see done, because a bunch of American holidays really just suck (I’m looking at you, Fourth of July.) But you know what good USAmerican rep would be on the QSMP?

Halloween! Stores are already putting out decorations irl, so it’s literally Peak USA

Just imagine the eggs trick or treating!!! That would be so cute!! Add a little candy mod so the eggs can have their Smarties or whatever, yk? Everyone can dress up in costume and bob for apples and go through a haunted barn or corn maze and then Cucurucho could chase people with a chainsaw and get away with it because that’s just Halloween, baby! We love chasing people with chainsaws at haunted houses!

(Because, really, what other holidays do we have that we can do something fun with? Christmas? Ew. Fourth of July? Eww!!)

[wh0lemilk0vich]

Ooh ooh more of plumping up king egg!

🌊

I really do have to finish that idea I have, I don't know why it's so hard for me to finish stuff lol.

Anyway, here's something I think about a bunch, it kind of gets away from me at the end but I hope you like it, 🌊anon

CW: canon typical Targaryen sexual practices. Degradation kink. Canon alcohol use.

I still really like the idea of Alicent forcing Aegon to wear a corset to hide how he's been gaining weight. Commissions a court tailor to make them in secret.

Aegon absolutely useless and petulant about getting it on because he complains about how uncomfortable it is, how he feels like a forgotten vessel of dough left to rise until it's burst.

Usually little meek servants get him up, washed and dressed, but one day Alicent tells her second born to get his elder brother out of bed and decent for court and Aemond is more than happy to oblige.

He bursts into the room to see Aegon still passed out despite it nearly being noon, sleeping soundly twisted in the sheets, completely naked, ass bare and rounded in the open air like twin mounds of pudding.

The weight settled upon his brother making him shapely, bottom heavy, curvy and soft in a way that, faced away from him, Aemond could be forgiven for wanting eagerly to bed the plump, womanly figure in front of him. Indeed, the sight was enough to have the Dragonrider stirring in his small clothes.

Taking swift, long strides to Aegon's bed, he grabs and tears the white top linen away to revealing his brother's plush, pink shame. He gives a swift cracking smack to his fat, wobbling arse, earning him a pitiful, almost aroused yelp in return. With a grin, he grabs a fistful of the man's mussed, wavy platinum hair, pulling him up onto his hands and knees, presenting much like a bitch to be mounted.

"Maiden's cunt! How do you end up visibly fatter every time I see you, brother?" Aemond asks cruelly, appraising his sleep and wine addled brother like a feeding hog. With one of his large splayed hands, he hefts and wobbles the blubbery pot of Aegon's gut, testing its weight, feeling the man reflexively trying to suck in. His younger brother scoffs incredulously, giving him a none-too-soft pat to the diaphragm, forcing him to relax those buried muscles and letting the fat round out below him.

"You beast! Unhand me!" Aegon weakly protests, face screwed up as he flaps a dough-soft arm to a side table to scrabble for his goblet.

Almond's patience starts to wear thin.

"For fuck's sake. Allow me," he says as he fills his brother's goblet and pulls him up by the hair to his knees. "It would be a shame if you appeared sober at court for once. Can't have that," he said forcing the overfull cup of Dornish strongwine down his gullet.

Aegon splutters at first before overtaking his brother's pace on his own, throat bobbing as he gulped it down greedily, red rivulets dripping from the corners of his mouth, onto his perky tits and between his cleavage. He pants, grinning dopily, as the chalice was pulled away from his lips, clearly satisfied. His pink tongue poked out licking away the final drops from his ruddy stained lips.

Aemond takes his brother in again. He looks absolutely debauched, eyes glassy, hair a mess, chest heaving, and there, nestled between plush thighs in a soft mound of fat, below his quivering belly, Aegon's unimpressive, fat little cock stood to attention. It twitches when Aemond, roughly handles one of his breasts, tweaking and teasing the nipple. "If these teats grow any larger, I suspect I should be able to sheath my sword between them. Do you suppose that if I suckled hard enough, you might produce milk?"

Aemond can see the effect he's having on his brother, the prince. A miserable, pitiful, ungrateful excuse for a future Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, aroused, panting, gagging to be used, hungry for more abuse. Suddenly annoyed, the younger brother roughly lets go of Aegon's hair, allowing him to crumple back onto the mattress with a whine. He rifles through his brother's wardrobe, certain there was no way half of the items would fit the man they were meant to, before coming upon the piece he was searching for.

"Come now. Enough of your indolence, Mother demands I cinch you into this ridiculous garment and make you presentable for court." This earns him a groan in response.

It takes some manhandling but eventually Aegon ends up in the loosened corset and sitting heavily in Aemond's lap. The latter is of two minds, embarrassed of and for his brother, and yet his own impressive manhood strains against his trousers wanting desperately to be buried between those full, jiggly cheeks.

With a deft movement, Aemond flips their positions, pinning Aegon over the edge of the bed, in such a position that, if he just took a moment to tug down his trousers, he could bury his aching hardness to the hilt in his brother's greedy cunt.

He takes hold of the corset laces and tugs hard, hearing Aegon gasp in pain. The sound eggs Aemond to continue, cinching row after row of laces, tighter and tighter, until Aegon was a whimpering groaning mess below him. He leaned down to whisper in the man's ear, pinning him underneath him, and teasingly rolling his hips to grind his clothed cock against his brother.

"If you want me to fuck you like the fat little whore you are. You're going to do everything in your power to burst these stays and put an end to this farce once and for all. The court and small folk deserve to see what pig their princeling has eaten himself into. And I'll make sure you never forget it, and love every second of it."

[thebekashow]

Yaaaay family reunion! The old bat who hit bob can go suck an egg >:)!

Oh don't worry, A certain someone already took care of her :D

[zarathesilentgamer]

Top 6 Games I Played 2022

It was going to be a top 5 of the year but I knew I had to put Kena on the list as well.

6. Kena: Bridge of Spirits -

Kena is a fun, cute but at times powerfully sad game about helping troubled spirits move on and, trying to stop the growing threat spreading through the land. Highly recommend checking it out.

5. Wavetale -

An environmental message wrapped up in high intensity water surfing, like Jesus. If you were put off by Wavetale being on stadia, it has now come to steam and certain consoles with plans to expand it’s reach and honestly, it deserves to. Roughly 4 hours of game time, and I’m more than happy to replay this game again in the future.

4. Spyro The Dragon (Reignited Trilogy) -

With the exception of Tree Tops which can suck an egg, I adore Spyro The Dragon. While it wasn’t my first introduction to Spyro, (spyro: year of the dragon on the ps1) it’s always a pleasure to come back to and Toys For Bob did the purple dragon proud. More than worth your time and money.

3. Kirby and the Forgotten Lands -

Kirby and the Forgotten Lands was a much anticipated breath of fresh air for the Kirby franchise. And the first Kirby game I played and 100% everything. All the levels, all the Waddle Dees, all the collectables. This game is an adorable package of fun, cuteness and at times gripping action. If you haven’t already, check it out. I can easily see this becoming a nintendo classic.

2. Cult of the Lamb -

Cult of the Lamb is fun and reminds me of issac in it’s gameplay but I would say a bit more heavy feeling. Create a cult in the name of The One Who Waits and take on the 4 bishops of the old faith and fulfill your destiny. Or marry your favorite cultist and feed poop to your least favorite as a prank. Poop, marriage and sacrifice - Cult of the Lamb. No but is honesty, this game is so much silly fun (I must have played in at least 8+ time since digital release). But my main reason it’s not in my #1 spot is that bloody hammer. I can’t stand having to slowly slam it into vacant earth because in the time it took to swing it, the enemy had already moved. But honestly, that’s my only main issues, everything else solid gold.

1. Stray -

Stray is everything I was expecting and more. All I wanted was to play an adorable kitty trying to make their way home and I got that and an emotional knife to the ribs at the same time. Reuniting Doc and his son, rescuing Clementine and of course  B12 (Yes, I cried). I don’t go out of my way to buy physical copies of games but when I do it’s because the game did something for me that I can’t get from any other game. And Stray is easily one of those games for me. If you haven’t already, make sure Stray is on top of your to play pile.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, AUGUST 31, 2019 What will it be today, folks? Hammering? Sawing? Landscaping? More traffic? You might as well be in an apartment in this case. An apartment in a high-rise overlooking the ocean in Florida would probably be quieter than this place. The thing is, though, that I’ve noticed those places usually aren’t apartments but condos that cost at least a quarter-million dollars.

Hopefully, the van that was working in back won’t return after Labor Day to resume its pounding and sawing of whatever they were working on. It will be interesting to see if the planes are back to a full-time annoyance at that time, too. Yesterday sucked. I cooked to Bob’s blower. I peed to Lawrence’s sawing, and for THREE hours I worked to the tune of the trash and recycle trucks worming their way around here.

We owe around $700 to my dermatologist and he’s still paying off his MRI. Living in Cali, it’s a damn shame we’re not illegals because then everything would be paid for. But as I was telling a friend, you know how most of the country is, illegals and immigrants first, citizens second.

My body has slowly been resetting its weight, as it always does, through constipation. I don’t know what its desperateness to hang on to its weight is all about but there’s no way I could go over 155 eating the way I have been. It should help my BP and cholesterol scores, too.

My TMJ has been driving me nuts again but I don’t think it’s all about TMJ. I think it’s also damaged nerves since they couldn’t just leave me the hell alone and the way I was meant to be, and it seems the tube connecting the ear and throat may not drain properly.

Although I don’t know why, I’ve been having nightmares even though nothing bad is going on. Annoying at times but not bad. I’ve woken up several times the last two nights, even though I usually sleep better at night, although I don’t feel tired. My schedule has jumped fast this last week as it usually does when I’m on days. It’s almost like something’s in a hurry to get me back on nights so it can have fun using traffic to add to the wake-up calls.

Anyway, I forgot to write about the nightmare I had two nights ago. I don’t know why, but they were going to execute me in one week. All I could think about was getting ahold of menus because I wanted to spend my final week eating and sleeping, like I would be able to do either one of those if I knew they were going to kill me! But I was determined to get some good egg foo yung from the local Chinese place, LOL.

Last night it was about a serial killer in the area. They would call their victims first using this thing to electronically alter their voice. One night, it was my turn to get such a call. I was living in a house with at least three other people, but don’t know who they were.

I decided to play dumb in order to lure the killer out so they could be captured. It was then that I realized, when I thought of certain things that had happened over the last few days, that they had somehow hacked my computer and knew my every digital move.

I crept through the darkened house and used the bathroom. As I was exiting the bathroom, I heard the whirring sound of the electronic lock on the front door sliding open, even though I hadn’t heard the beeping of the code being punched in first.

The dream ended with me fumbling blindly in the dark and in a panic, screaming to warn the others in the house.

You know, although I can’t prove it, sometimes I get the feeling that someone with an awful lot of intelligence and cunning has hacked my computer and knows my every account and action within it. Someone like Aly. Not sure how she would bypass accounts with unrecognized browser notifications wired into their system, but it’s just a feeling I’ve had. If this is true and not me just being paranoid, then she’ll just have to sit and quietly deal with finding some things she may wish they didn’t find being as sensitive as she is. I would think all the protection I’ve got on this Mac would weed her out, but still. How does she not only find so many of my accounts, despite search services listing them, how has she known so many things she shouldn’t have known, smart or not? She knew when I was trolling Molly with Kathy on the old MyOpera. She knew every question I’ve asked her on Ask. Ask doesn’t warn users of unrecognized browsers and neither did MO. Makes me wonder if she’s read my private blogs, but let her. Let her get all upset by them if she’s going to hack into them and maybe even my PC as well.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 30, 2019 Tom set up web hosting for his apps’ privacy policy and all that legal stuff pertaining to ads and whatnot. Hoping he’ll make more than enough sales to pay the costs and then some, but I still have my doubts. It’s not about how good you are in this case, it’s about the odds. There’s a lot of competition out there these days when it comes to apps, yet he seems pretty confident he can generate a few hundred bucks a month. Well, let’s hope so because I sure can’t!

I’ve been thinking of getting into web design but want to see how it goes for him first. Not my number one career choice but sometimes you just gotta take what you can get, especially when you’re stuck at home.

Once again I’ve given up on voice blogging. There’s always a problem with recording. Always. Every single fucking site has problems.

38 days till menopause!

My fingernails look better, and I polished my toes with one of the dollar store nail polishes to see if I get the same discoloration there. So glad Tammy has a medical background! It’s always good when a family member is knowledgeable in something you have no interest in because that way, if you do need help or have any questions, there’s someone you can turn to. If everybody was into the same things, that wouldn’t always be very helpful.

I still want so badly to tell her narcissistic brats off. All three of them. But I won’t do it out of respect for her. She’s had enough shit in life and despite any shit she’s put me through both directly and not, I don’t want to upset her unnecessarily. If I’m still alive and able to do so when she dies, I’ll have my say then.

I hope Hurricane Dorian doesn’t get her state too bad, but right now it’s not looking good. Part of me wishes I was there for the excitement since I love storms, but I’m also glad I’m not.

Since I’m posting journals on Tumblr that mention Jai, I looked him up out of curiosity, and if the information is correct, he’s been living in New York for the last 20 years or so. He’s on a street full of 6-story brick buildings that’s practically right on the Hudson. His building is sandwiched between that and the Harlem River.

He never became the doctor he wanted to be from what I looked up. Besides, I wouldn’t think a doctor would live where he’s living. It really doesn’t seem much different than Springfield. Just an ordinary apartment building in the city. But why did he go there and what is he doing? If he didn’t become a doctor, I wonder why. He certainly seems smart enough so if he didn’t change his mind then maybe something came up beyond his control.

He’s 56 now and doesn’t seem to ever have owned a house, been married or had kids, so who knows what he’s been up to all these years? I would think he would still be connected to the medical field somehow. I don’t remember him ever expressing any other interest other than fitness. We used to take walks together and he loved bike riding.

The email I sent to his MSN account bounced and no one answered the wireless numbers I tried. Can’t help but be curious as to what he’s been up to all these years and I’m sure he would be very surprised to learn I got out of the Northeast.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 29, 2019 We really can’t go long without a project here, can we? Five-Star Restoration is at Lawrence’s place now, parked in the street between our houses. They do mold, fire and water damage removal. Thought I’d been hearing door-slamming back there the last couple of days. Today, I not only saw the van parked back there but they added some thumping to the mix as well. Knowing this will go on all day and no doubt be a multi-day project, I’m under the headphones. With these many houses this close it’s always a stressor as I get close to appointments, not just due to traffic, but dreading if someone breaks out a project at the wrong time. Really hope they’re done before I roll onto nights! I can’t express just how sick and fucking tired I am of having to hear it every time someone around here has a project.

Other than the usual annoyances, I’ve been doing much better these last couple of days. I have felt calm and did a half-hour of cardio outdoors and will soon do my strength training indoors.

Becky made it to Missouri yesterday. So happy for her! But envious too, since we’ll certainly never get to live in the place we vacationed in and fell in love with.

With this being the longest time since I’ve had to hear that loud car, I looked in on the punk’s account to see if I could learn why, but there haven’t been any updates since April. I’m sure the prick will be back one of these days, though.

I ended up being quite the social butterfly yesterday. I’m still wary of people as too many bad experiences have taught me that people can’t be trusted, but it’s nice to socialize every now and then.

I emailed Dixie early in the morning to let her know I would be available to visit if she wanted company and she said she’d call after a phone appointment with her doctor to discuss some blood test results.

When she called, I grabbed a container of pistachio nuts on my way out for us to munch on while we chatted.

On my way down, I spotted Bob and Virginia on their patio, so I made a quick detour to say hello. Virginia loved my hot pink tank dress and pink strappy shoes.

She asked what I had with me and I told her they were pistachio nuts and that since Dixie usually feeds me when I visit her, I thought I would return the favor. I guess they’ve met because Virginia said, “Isn’t that the one with the little girl that rides the Pride bus?”

I said, “Well, she’s 72, but yes, that’s Diane who rides the bus.”

When I got to Dixie’s place, she said she’d just eaten a bunch of pistachios, haha. Sure enough, there was a small plate of shells by her chair.

Then I was surprised by a few things she told me, though I’m not sure if she’s talking about who I think she’s talking about or if she’s even remembering things correctly. As she herself admits, her memory has really gone to hell.

She said that shortly after moving in, she asked Bob if her taillights were working and he was grumpy and in a hurry and all that. I’m just not sure if it really is Bob she’s referring to.

This was the motor mouth’s funniest…she and Santa hit it off right away, she said. But then she looks at me and says, “Does he look like my type?

Before I could tell her that she never told me what her type is other than that she’s been happily single for 30 years after 3 shitty husbands, she said, “No! We just get along well and find each other friendly and easy to talk to.”

Then she tells me that his wife, whom I had yet to meet, was to go to Texas to a wedding and leave him behind. But then she decided not to go because she was jealous that something was going on between the two or would if she left town.

LMAO! Anything is possible as I wasn’t there, didn’t see what happened, and don’t know these people well, but somehow this strikes me as highly unlikely. Unlikely that Santa’s wife got even a teeny bit jealous, let alone enough to keep her from attending a wedding out of town.

I also learned that Dixie not only has a daughter but a son as well. That one she is connected with and I guess he calls and visits about every week which is typical.

Then when I asked how Diane was doing, she goes, “I don’t care. I don’t know and I don’t want to know.”

She really caught me off guard for a minute there until she realized I was asking about Diane and not her daughter. She said she realizes she must sound terrible speaking so harshly about her own daughter, but she’s had it with the way wealth and cocaine use have changed her for the worse.

She said something about her daughter picking on things she did when she was a kid and Dixie said, “I wasn’t perfect and I didn’t do everything right, but I didn’t do that bad of a job.”

Again, I wasn’t there, but I do find it hard to picture Dixie as an abusive mother. I’ve heard plenty about what cocaine can do to one’s mind and behavior, too.

Dixie has admitted that most of her family has had problems with drugs and alcohol. Even Dixie used to drink heavily.

She both likes and doesn’t like living here and said that the Tuesday landscaping frenzies get to her, too. It’s worse on those days, even though it’s a daily annoyance that’s soon to get worse as the leaves start coming down.

She doesn’t know if she’s going to stay here permanently or not. She doesn’t even know if Diane will always be with her, but assuming Dixie dies first, she’s going to have to eventually go somewhere. Although Dixie finds Diane a challenge at times, she feels that she gives her purpose in life.

Diane loves living here but is terrified of the shower for some reason.

She also threw me for a loop when she said the doctor said her thyroid was high because when I asked her what her TSH score was, she said 88. As I told her, that would mean she was off-the-charts hypo and not the other way around. Hell, my own score is in the 30s untreated and that’s considered severe. Then she told me 88 micrograms was what they were lowering her dose to, not her score.

She’d been taking 100. Damn! I cannot imagine taking that! Eighty-eight damn near killed me and I can barely handle 75. That’s why I’m thinking I’m going to stick with 50 indefinitely and take a 75 only once a week. If the number of anxious days per month goes down, then that will answer my question about the dose.

As Tom said when I expressed my fears of never being able to fully treat my thyroid, I’m treating it enough. It’s true, too. My skin is soft, and my hair and nails grow fast. I have no hypo symptoms at all. Also, my T4 has always been normal. So my body is definitely not starving for thyroid hormone.

I was surprised Dixie didn’t have any symptoms of being hyper. She wasn’t having a racy HR, losing weight, the runs or anything.

I sure had the runs from hell myself yesterday and I’m not sure why. Probably the change in diet. I’m down to 152, but as usual, I don’t look it because I’m solid. One my height in the 150s is typically going to have a waist in the 40s but mine is a 36. So I’m no skinny-mini but I’m no giant either.

While Dixie chatted non-stop, occasionally not making much sense, I was happy to fetch her mail for her as I offered to so she wouldn’t have to get in her car and drive to the mailboxes since she can’t walk well. A little out of it or not, nothing positive to say or not, I always enjoy our chats.

On the way back home was when I met Santa, whose real name is Ed, and his wife Joan. They were sitting out front and their two dogs were barking up a storm when they saw me and then I heard one across the street go off as well. I’m really glad I’m not further down that street!

I told Santa he met my husband Tom and that I was his wife and we all started talking. The dogs had been abused before they rescued them. The cuter one was barking and lunging toward me on its leash and Santa said she didn’t bite and just wanted attention. She did stop barking once I patted her.

Joan liked my dress too, and I laughed at the thought of one day dressing in something really boring and surprising everyone in the neighborhood since this pink princess is known for her colorful fashions. Maybe navy, white or gray. The thing is I have almost nothing in those colors.

Yesterday I rearranged my bedroom office a bit so now I have a coloring station and office in one so I can color while I listen to docs being read. Then I can stop and edit whatever needs editing.

I have nearly 300 entries posted on Tumblr which has gotten one known view so far from Houston.

I’m up to the fall of 1990 when I was with Brenda, and boy I’ll tell you, my struggles to find women were absolutely ridiculous. Even back then when people were less open about it and it was harder to connect with other lesbians or bisexuals since social media didn’t exist yet, I shouldn’t have had such a hard time snagging a woman. Oh, I could have had the butches from hell, but the feminine and in-between women shouldn’t have been so hard to obtain. All I could think was wow, was that not meant to be or what?! Now that’s someone who wasn’t meant to be with women. Women weren’t even that out of reach 100 years ago!

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 28, 2019 Since slipping down the rabbit hole I have slowly climbed back out over the last couple of days. Yesterday I felt better than the day before and today I feel even better. I don’t know that I’ll ever know the exact cause of why I suddenly had more anxiety than I’ve had in months, but I wonder if the striped nail dream was a sign. Something bad almost always happens after I have a bad dream about myself or someone I know. It’s just not always what I saw in the dream.

Taking the day off from working out because my muscles are stiff. Probably going to take a walk down to Dixie’s place later and do more painting. Ran out of one of my blues but had some leftover paint from other projects and found a shade that matches.

Set up a blog on Tumblr where I’m slowly posting journals one entry at a time. It’s going fast because I’m not titling the entries or backdating them and they have a 250-post limit per day which I doubt I’ll ever reach because I still need to skim through what I’m posting even after doing a “replace all” of names and other things. I’m enclosing the dates the entries were written in the posts themselves. It’s just that I realized that as long as I change or drop last names and don’t have any sensitive info or anything that can specifically identify anyone, threats, slurs, or stuff like that in word-sensitive America, I’m not doing anything wrong. I am, however, keeping it pretty private. It’s one thing for a stranger to read that Tammy looked like shit on such and such a day but another for her to read it. I don’t want to offend anyone I personally know and care about, but if some stranger out there has a problem with me being liberal, for example, fuck them. Opted out of being searchable via search engines and created the account under a bogus email address so Aly can’t find it or anyone else that decides to look me up. The thing that sucks is that I can’t get my tracker to work. Oh well. Last I knew, Tumblr was pretty dead. It’s mostly for photos and music.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 27, 2019 Feeling better today but still a bit shaken over yesterday. I guess all I can do is hope it was just an isolated thing and I’ll continue to have fewer anxious days. I’ll take a full dose on Mondays and leave it at that for a while.

Traffic woke me up once and so did a nightmare. When threatened in real life it tends to bring out the anger in me and make me feel provoked and ready to stand my ground and fight. Not in the nightmare, though. The guy there had me scared shitless.

I was alone with some old guy in a cabin in the woods that was pretty isolated. The cabin was tiny and square-shaped. I don’t know who the hell the guy was, but he seemed to be someone I was close to. He was thin yet seemed to be healthy and in pretty good shape.

It was nighttime, and when the guy opened the front door to the cabin, I saw a startled look on his face. I pulled the door open wider to see what had scared him and saw this hulking figure standing there. He was dressed in black and well over six feet tall. He simply stood there with one foot casually resting on the bottom of about 3 steps, not saying a single word. I couldn’t make out his features, his race, or anything. All I knew was that no giant in all-black came to a lone cabin at night without bad intentions.

The old guy slammed the door shut but didn’t lock it, so I quickly threw the deadbolt and ran to the back door to lock that too, even if the guy could have kicked his way in easily enough. The dream ended before I could get to the back door.

MONDAY, AUGUST 26, 2019 I was reading someone’s blog about how they get frustrated with “correct” terms changing constantly and how ex-cons are now referred to as parolees, the word “racist” is overused, and people are too sensitive. I can relate to this frustration at times. Now we can’t refer to an older woman as “old” or “elderly.” No, now she must be “mature.” But how long will it be before “mature” becomes the new dirty word? When will “curvy” be offensive? Colored people, black people, people of color, African American, not white… Well, like it or not, I prefer to stick with what I was originally taught. So, for someone who’s 53, I’m getting old. Oh, and I have about 30 lb. of fat on me and I’m not black. :-)

We took the car to be washed yesterday morning and got some things from Walmart.

Went walking together, and in case I didn’t already say so, I felt borderline anxious a couple of days ago, fine yesterday, and slightly wound up for a couple of hours this morning. I know it’s mostly because it’s Monday morning. As long as I keep busy, I’m fine. If I don’t, then I’m going to start worrying about the experiment blowing up in my face and turning out to be a bust and worried about getting anxious, which can actually make me feel a little anxious. So, trying to stay aware but not dwell.

I’ll probably be going to the lab on the 6th and a few days before that I’ll message Doc A, so she knows what’s going on, not that I expect her to understand or be too happy about it. But hey, my body, my life, my choice. :-) I’m always going to do what makes me feel best and not what makes the numbers look good.

We’ve been on different versions of a diet called Mary’s Mini. He’s losing weight, but as expected, I’m not able to lose weight which is fine because that’s not why I’m on this diet. It’s to lower my cholesterol and sodium intake which helps my BP. The nice side effects are money savings and no threat of gaining weight.

My diet is based on potatoes, fruits and veggies and just a little bit of dairy and nuts. It’s amazing how filling and nutritious potatoes are! I haven’t had meat in a while now and I’m not craving it either, even though it’s not like I’ll never have it again. I’ll probably have some fish after labs. I’m surprised at how well this diet curbs hunger. Sometimes I get hungry, but for the most part, it hasn’t been bad at all. I should be averaging about 1200 calories a day, maybe slightly more.

I had this weird dream that I got sentenced to one week in jail, although I don’t know what for. I didn’t know Tom, but my father and brother were alive. I guess you could get calls in this jail because I received a call in which this guy asked if I knew who he was. He sounded familiar to me, and I was desperate to talk to Larry once I heard his voice in the background because I had totally forgotten Dad’s number and needed to call him to arrange a time to be picked up once I was released.

I was admitted into jail on a Friday and by Monday morning I realized I could no longer say I had a week, but 5 days instead.

I wished I could get up earlier so I could be more awake for breakfast, but even though I got up later one day, I was still able to go to this cafeteria where bacon and eggs were being served.

Tammy has her second surgery today and hopefully she’ll have a health and home-hunting update from me once she has a chance to recover.

95% of the coding is done, according to Tom, for his next app. It looks like he will have to get a website, though, for legal purposes.

I don’t think Tom will make a few hundred bucks a month with his apps no matter how good he may be just because of the odds and it doesn’t seem like anything that would be “allowed” by above.

However, this place has been “acting” like the end times. Things always seem to be better for us not too long before we move. Like within a year or two if even that. Well, not only am I better but the place itself suggests the end of our time here is near. Like that car disappearing. It’s still noisy as hell here, but words can’t describe how utterly annoying hearing that thing coming and going was. It was like 10 loud cars in one. Plus, I make a friend in Dixie, and these are the kinds of things that would happen as the end gets closer. There still isn’t anything to say we’re going to make it out of here in a year or two, though, so I still have to assume we won’t be out until he’s at least 66 and that the fucking car will eventually return.

Dixie sent me, along with her famous niece and a few others, some funny jokes. “My stomach is flat, but the L is silent,” LOL.

Later…

April: 1 anxious day May: 3 anxious days June: 2 anxious days July: 5 anxious days Aug: 5 anxious days

Today is turning out to be my worst day in a while even if I’ve had worse. Above are the total number of anxious days I’ve had so far since the beginning of the experiment: 16 anxious days out of 140 days, which is an average of every 8.5 days.

I don’t like how the anxiety has been picking up these last two months and August isn’t even done. I didn’t jump to two full doses a week until August, but I still don’t know if the dose is a factor at this point or not. I wish I did! If it continues to pick up maybe I should just go back to 50s and stay there indefinitely. For now, I think I’ll drop back to one full dose a week. I didn’t keep track of every single pill cut I made, but I think it’s pretty safe to say I was cutting closer to 50 during April and May and closer to 60 after June. If it’s something in the filler, then I wonder if I should ask Dr. A if there’s a liquid form of this medication. I mean I can’t believe they have everyone who has a problem with the filler turn to Armour. If there is, bet I can guess what her answer will be… Go to Dr. O.

I’m really starting to believe I just may not be meant to fully treat my thyroid. It’s like something up there doesn’t want me treating it all the way.

I can’t help but think about and analyze the situation and I just want to cry. I feel so defeated and frustrated. If this isn’t the peri, then it’s either the filler or the medication itself. It can’t be the dose because even though I take a full pill every now and then, it’s not up to the full 75-dose in my bloodstream. That kind of rules out the dose at the moment and hopefully we’ll soon be able to rule out peri once I get into the menopausal zone.

Another thing it could be is that Dr. A is right about how anyone can be anxious at times. Maybe I really did develop an anxiety disorder for no reason, although the way I worsened on off-brands couldn’t have been a coincidence. Plus, there’s no doubt when I first went on 75s and then 88s that it was the medication, and I totally believe all the reports I’ve read online. This shit does cause anxiety for some people. I just wish I knew if it was the filler or the medication itself! I also wish I knew if I really could have developed an anxiety disorder but that one has always struck me as the least likely. Just something in my gut still says it’s on the medication for the most part.

Okay, but what part of the medication??? The filler or the drug itself? And why does it only affect me sometimes? Lastly, how much is the peri? Flares?

I just can’t see myself running to the shrink since they’ve never helped me yet. Prozac backfired, the blood pressure medicine didn’t do anything but make me exhausted, beta-blockers make me cold as hell and exhausted, and then there are other side effects. The only thing that was helpful for a while until I got too used to it was the Lorazepam but that wasn’t for this kind of anxiety. There are different kinds of anxieties that feel different and the Lorazepam was more for panic attack symptoms. These are waves of adrenaline that come and go on and off throughout the day in the center of my chest. The more I feel it, the more it fucks with my emotions. Since SSRI drugs make me suicidal, I just don’t see what a shrink can do for me. So why spend the time and money to go to some expat I may or may not understand just to get nowhere? I just don’t like to take medication. Too many side effects, and like Stacey said, one can still feel symptoms of anxiety even medicated. The last shrink I saw mentioned that as well. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with an anxious person seeing a shrink, I just don’t think I could benefit from one personally.

So much for those “end” signs. When I went through all the reasons in my mind why a shrink would be a waste of time and money, I realized that it may not be wise to say “never” where they’re concerned. Look at Amy. At first it didn’t seem like she was going to be able to do me any good and that I would be stuck suffering from a burning, itching crotch for the rest of my life. Then one day she worked miracles for me. So maybe after SSRI drugs backfiring, me getting too used to Lorazepam, BP meds being worthless, there is something else I don’t know about. Not going to call and schedule an appointment just yet, though. I’m going to wait until I’m postmenopausal because if I’m still getting “stabbed” at that point, then we’ve gone from 4 possibilities to 3 which would be the filler, the meds or me just becoming this way. I wonder if flares could be a factor. Dr. O didn’t seem to think so and if she was willing to admit what other doctors wouldn’t (except for my GYN), I would think she would admit that too.

I feel like I’m back to square one…questions, questions, questions…but never any answers. Tom assures me I’m not back to square one. I’m just having a bad day after many good days. I’d like to see it that way but it’s hard to. This is worrisome. It can only be one or more of four things…peri, and anxiety disorder separate from anything else, the filler or the meds.

I suppose that even though I’m now only 42 days away from menopause if I can hot flash, I can still have anxiety, but I realize that these symptoms aren’t magically going to stop at midnight on October 7th. Some of the symptoms can linger even after a year without periods, and I’m also older and heavier and that can make me have warm spells right there. Plus, I’ve always been temperature sensitive where I get too cold or too hot easily, especially cold.

I’m back to voice blogging on VoiceSpice which saves a nice neat little index of my posts, even though there are no guarantees they’ll remain there. Instead of worrying about something permanent and guaranteed, however, I’ll just use it while I can. If they don’t kick them off their server, fine. If they do, oh well.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 25, 2019 LOL, I left some voice messages on Messenger for some people and it sounds hilarious. Creepy, distorted, underwater; but you can still make out what I’m saying. Even left some for Alyssa and my oh so wonderful loving, caring aunt and cousin.

Tammy thinks my nail discoloration is due to too much nail polish. Yeah, I’m sure that doesn’t help even though it’s a bit weird that it’s only on four different nails. I’ll go without polish for a while if I can stand to. I hate bare nails. That’s like being naked.

The planes haven’t turned out to be the regular nuisance I thought they would be but I’m sure that by the first they’ll be plenty annoying.

Yesterday we went to Sam’s and Rite Aid and later in the morning, we’ll be going to Walmart.

Went out walking for a half-hour at 1 a.m. and it was deserted and peaceful. Saw a few skunks, though, and heard what sounded like a big dog bark over the fence when it heard my footsteps running down the street. To be safe I sprinted deeper into the park.

Not much in the way of dreams but bits and pieces of whatever. I became really good friends with a black girl named Cheryl. I looked out the front window of our place and saw a couple of black guys fixing up their front yard and thought it looked nice. Then the guys were setting up a room in our house. I peeked in the room when they left to go get lunch and found that it looked like a combination of an office and a recreation room.

In the last dream, I had a female rat who had a baby and while I was tending to the baby rat, mom took off and fell asleep for the day somewhere in the house. I was a bit frustrated because I couldn’t find her, even though I knew she would find her way home on her own when she was ready to.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 24, 2019 Felt good after three days of being too tired to work out to get out for 20 minutes. It was dry but a little warm. My joints had become a little stiff from those few days off. Just like too much isn’t good, too little isn’t good, so I think that anyone who can should run for at least a minute or two each day to keep the joints strong. Did this for a few minutes and briskly walked the rest of the way. This way it’s not such a shock to my body if I have to suddenly run fast. I work out whenever traffic will let me. If they steal my sleep and I don’t have the energy to work out, I just wait till I get caught up on sleep which I was lucky to do the last time around. I thought there would be some disturbances, but I slept with the earbud for the most part and no one was slamming doors to big trucks.

The bins are still in front of Ralph’s driveway and there definitely isn’t anyone living there yet, so the house probably did get flipped. Wonder what kinds of projects I may have to listen to in the upcoming weeks. I just hope we get out of here before Bob and Virginia pass!

I looked up his obit and there was nothing but his date of birth and death. He was 78 years old, but the guy was huge, and I mean huge, so it’s kind of no wonder he had a stroke. No mention of friends, family, work, hobbies…nothing. His last name was Arias. Hmm… Related to Jodi? She’s from Salinas which isn’t too far from here.

On the way back, I walked by Melody’s place to see what I could see. The usual black car and dark pickup were there, but there was also a white sporty car across the street that I think is the daughter’s. Sometime I’ll take a look at the bastard’s page to see if I can get a sense of what’s up and why he hasn’t come around. Hopefully, he totaled the piece of shit he drives but this is the type of person so needy of attention from anybody and everybody that he would only run right out and get something else just as loud. If he isn’t out of town, then he’s more than likely hurt, sick, or in jail.

For $20 we ordered a manual dicer, so this will save me a lot of cuts when making home fries.

New undies are good. A little loose in the booty and I could have probably gone down a size but would rather too loose than too tight.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 23, 2019 My lungs got tight yesterday and I had to take a hit off my inhaler. It was probably some of the cleaning chemicals I used earlier. Didn’t like those two rounds of pain I had by my left shoulder blade either. I get that every now and then and sometimes I’m not sure if it’s connected to my TMJ.

I rarely lose more than a pound in one day, but I lost 1.5 pounds. Not surprisingly, I’m so fucking hungry today that nothing I eat satisfies me. Hate that feeling.

For the third time in a row, I slept shitty and the new neighbors in Ralph’s place have already woken me up by slamming vehicle doors. The sound funnels between our place and next door and reverberates underneath the house. Really miss brick on concrete as opposed to elevated wooden houses because they don’t conduct nearly as much sound. Can’t see us ever on a concrete slab again, though.

Once again I just wanted to get the fuck away from people and get out of the city, but running to the country won’t do me any good because if my sleep is as cursed as it seems to be, it doesn’t matter where we go. I actually slept worse in Maricopa than Phoenix with all the fucking sonic booms and loose barking dogs that would waltz onto our land.

I just want to be able to sleep, but I’m probably not going to be able to catch up until Saturday.

It was probably when they closed the door of the Penske rental truck they used to move in with that woke me up. Still don’t know who lives there or what they drive. Tomorrow is trash day and they have their bin blocking their driveway, so maybe there’s something parked on the street, but I can’t see it behind the bushes. I’m curious now. Going to take a walk out front and see what I can see.

Nothing. Not a single vehicle anywhere. Also, the for-sale sign is still up so maybe someone was just cleaning it out. Maybe it’s gone to flippers. This is not the place to be without a vehicle. I read that this place has a walking score of only 8. Takes over a half-hour to walk to the nearest store.

So they woke me up 4 hours into my sleep and it took me about an hour to get back to sleep. After a few more hours of sleep, I woke up from a rather chilling dream. In the dream, I inspected my left hand and found that three or more fingernails had a dark stripe running through them, a definite sign of nail cancer. Really hope to hell it doesn’t mean anything! I don’t think the dream means I’m going to get nail cancer, but more than likely there’s something coming up even if it’s not serious. I’d like to tell myself my accuracy rate isn’t that good but then I might as well tell myself I’m a tall, slim blond with a beautiful golden suntan.

Removed my nail polish and at first, the purplish discoloration on the three nails on the left seemed a little better but was more visible on the right thumb. Definitely not cancerous, though, or anything to worry about because the pictures I saw show that cancer is much darker, almost black. Plus, I have no stripes. It’s got to be either a stain or a fungus, I thought at the time.

But then I took a shower and the nails darkened. Afterward, it was most visible in my thumbs and I took a picture of the left thumb, which is the most noticeable, and sent it to Tammy for her opinion. It’s definitely the nail itself which now makes me think it’s a stain because I’m pretty sure fungus is underneath the nail and not in the nail itself. But why just a few fingers and why isn’t it growing out? The right thumb is definitely worse, too.

Aly’s dog was diagnosed with hypothyroidism and put on a low dose of the same medication I take, but the more she described the symptoms, the more I wondered if the diagnosis was incorrect. I’m sorry but as a hypo, I can personally say that it doesn’t cause you to have the runs or puke. If anything it causes you to be stuck a lot. Also, the dog is anemic yet I’ve never known hypothyroidism to affect iron levels. Weight gain, feeling cold, fatigue, brain fog, dry skin, and hair loss are the most predominant symptoms along with heartburn, water retention and wimpy periods if you still get them. As a male dog, I’m sure he doesn’t have to worry about that last one! I just hope the drug doesn’t take his heart on a terrifying joyride like it sometimes can.

While I still hear plenty of small planes and helicopters, the commercial planes are back to back-to-back flights in the mornings and nighttime as I figured they would be. So now I have that annoyance again until June.

Had to get some pet supplies on Amazon so I grabbed a 6-pack of what I find to be the most comfortable boy shorts and that’s Fruit of the Loom in size 7.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 22, 2019 I’m more tired than I was yesterday. Woke up a million times just because and who knows how many times due to traffic.

Noticed a moving truck at Ralph’s place, so the new neighbors have moved in. Hope they don’t have a dog. Usually, it’s no problem here but some of them bark nonstop when being walked or out of open windows and porches.

If what I heard and saw was at their house, they have a loud car. Doesn’t surprise me with how popular they are today, even amongst older people. Even older people are getting less considerate than they used to be. All people care about is what they want and what works best for them. Not how it may affect others.

This is the longest I haven’t heard the mama’s boy, but given how much of a mooching slacker he seemed to be I still think it’s of no choice of his and that something happened. Yes, it’s nice until he returns, but because there are so many loud vehicles these days, one disappearing for a while doesn’t make much difference when you’re right on such a busy street.

sighs If only anyone could make long-distance moves anytime they wanted to. Then if I had to listen to it, I can at least do it where it’s always summer.

I’ve now beat my longest stretch of time between periods since going into perimenopause. Full menopause is just 46 days away!

The pigs are back in the living room. Although it was an interesting experiment, the biggest problem was that they dog-ear the corners of the liner, some shit would slip under the liner, then I’d have to make sure it didn’t clog the drain. It’s also harder to reach down over the step and into the tub as opposed to in their cage. With them in the living room by the air cleaner, I can go back to changing liners every other day. I’m sure the rats missed having them close by as well. Rodents would be a lot less work if you could either scoop their poop out like with a cat or make them do their thing outdoors like a dog. They’re cute as hell and bring a lot of laughs, but after these guys, I think I’ll take a break for a while.

Been researching different phones and was told it’s easy to block people on iPhones but they can still leave voice messages. Then that’s not blocked. I don’t understand why it’s not as easy to block someone on a phone as it is Facebook or Twitter or most other sites. Then Aly told me she has no problem blocking numbers on her Android through her Verizon prepaid app but that’s not what we have. At least I don’t get unwanted calls every day.

I swear her household really needs a break in the medical department! She’s had her share of shit, Cam’s had his share of shit, and now her dog is at the vet with stomach issues.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 21, 2019 The pigs have been piss padded, and if all goes well, this will be the easiest setup for me, though not the cheapest. The second setup where I leave two-thirds of the tub’s floor bare is a definite NO. With the liners, the piss gets pulled away from shit and hay and absorbed below it. But with nothing to absorb it, trying to clean up wet shit and hay is a bitch. I had to scoop out as much as I could because I didn’t want to plug up the drain.

It took 2 pads to line the tub well and I’m really hoping I can stand the smell so I can change them every other day instead of every day. I’m tired of slaving over these guys. Rodents are high maintenance and a lot of work, so I’m always looking for what’s easiest as well as best for them without costing us a fortune.

Although it was late in my day and only lasted an hour or two, I felt a bit anxious last night. Perhaps ramping up my dose isn’t a wise idea and perhaps it’s still a factor along with generics. I know being on nights doesn’t help, quieter or not. The nights tend to bring most of us into a bit of a funk.

I did a little experiment out of curiosity and left a comment on every journal entry on the front page last night, and sure enough, not a single one left comments on my own entries. Some replied to my comments but that was it. I wonder just how many comments I’d have to leave before I started getting some in return, but then again, I don’t want that many people commenting because then I would feel obligated to return the favor and don’t want to spend all day reading/commenting.

Two days ago, after entering a contest on Facebook, I got a text from a local sweep that does home remodeling. I could kick myself for reading it because I knew this was a precursor to spam texting once they saw it was read and they knew it was a valid number. Sure enough, I woke up to a text today wanting to give me a 5-minute call, even though I specifically said “no” when asked on the contest form if I wanted a consultation call.

I replied letting them know I only wanted to enter the contest, not receive spam in the form of text, email, calls or whatever, and to please not contact me unless I win. They’ll probably pull my name from the contest but hopefully, they’ll honor my wishes to leave me alone because there is simply no blocking option on LG Androids. I think the only way I can block people simply enough would be to get an iPhone. I don’t understand why it isn’t a quick and simple tap to block someone or why you would include a blocking feature on your phone if you’re not going to let anyone be able to use it, but I’m considering both an iPhone and an iPad but mostly and iPad. It’s not like I’m getting calls and texts every day, so at this point, they’re simple enough to ignore.

Damn! First Aly and Cam are in hospitals, ERs, and Urgent Care, and now her dog’s spending the night at the vet. I guess he got into something that messed up his stomach. I swear that household is runner-up to Tammy with all the medical drama.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 20, 2019 This time I’m glad I didn’t spot Dixie on her patio because shortly after I left for my walk, the stomach cramps began. As soon as I got back I had the partial runs.

This time the funhouse was dark but unlocked so yeah, it probably is open until 9 or 10. After all, Bingo is at 7:30.

Dixie figured out the fire stick but unless she’s got her times screwed up, has she gone Stacey/Kathleen on me with the bogus meeting games? She said she had the porch light on last night and was there from 8 to 9 but when I passed by at 8:50, it was dark and deserted. Oh well.

The potato diet I’m just getting into since it’s full of nutrients, cheap, and has little to no cholesterol and sodium, seems more doable than anything else I’ve come up with even if I’ve hardly gotten started, but again, the best I can do for myself is maintain. No matter what I do, my body still isn’t going to let itself under 153 lbs or so.

When I think of how much easier this seems to be, though, I can’t help but think of a dream I had not too long ago. In the dream, I was actively looking for a diet, was going to give up, then said, “Nope. I figured the anxiety out, I’ll figure this out.”

Well, it would be nice if I could just cut my losses and eat a menu that’s going to keep me out of the 160s without making me feel like I’m starving, so we’ll see.

I was thinking I could have a smoothie or an avocado, a bag of veggies, and two potatoes with popcorn and yogurt mixed in between. This will come to 1000-1200 calories, excluding coffee or wine. It would be less if I pulled the smoothies and avocados out and replaced them with blueberries. I’ll probably alternate between avocados and bananas but not make any smoothies for a while. If I have a banana, it’s 100 calories, but if I add a peach and coconut milk, it becomes 200-220. Should definitely not have to worry about breaking records with this, though, and that’s good enough for me.

I still have one more pig setup to try but if I had to choose between today’s setup (folding the liner and placing it at one end of the cage while leaving the rest bare) and yesterday’s, I would probably choose yesterday’s. Easier to roll up the liner and shake it out than to scrape piss, shit and hay off the floor of the tub. Tomorrow’s puppy piss pad day, so we’ll see how that goes.

MONDAY, AUGUST 19, 2019 I was browsing someone else’s journal at pictures they shared of their own guinea pigs when I got a great idea and that was to put our pigs in our garden tub which we never use. It’s a little bigger than their cage and if it doesn’t get too smelly, I think it might be easier to clean. I’m experimenting with different things like their fleece liners, puppy pee pads, and things like that.

I built them a little hideaway since the tree stump borough is a bit too small for such big beefy pigs. I swear I never had guinea pigs this big, especially as big as Blitz, my favorite. He’s much calmer than Rockefeller. I took a small tension rod and hung an old valance across it. It was a little too long and I didn’t want them getting tangled in it or peeing on the hem, so I trimmed it. I trimmed a few inches more than I should have but it’s still suitable enough and this way they won’t get caught in it or make a mess of it. It hangs down about a foot or so from one end of the tub and I made a little roof to make it more private by putting a piece of cardboard on top, resting on the rod and edge of the tub. I can fine-tune it later and make it look nicer, although how it looks doesn’t really matter as opposed to how it functions. That room gets a lot of morning sunlight also, so if they want some shade as well as privacy, they’ve got it.

I actually thought of moving the rats in there as well since that bathroom is so big and making that a pet room since I shower in the other bathroom. All I need is to get to the toilet and the sink in this bathroom. If I can figure out a way to block the back of the toilet, which the rats would hide in, this would be a safer playroom for them as opposed to the rest of the house. Well, not so much safer but less for them to get into or mess up. I’d rather pee on a floor I could mop than pee on carpet, but the rats are usually pretty good with keeping their business at home unless they’re marking something. But there shouldn’t be anything to mark this way. They could have a lot more freedom in there as well, but first I want to see how the pigs work out before I consider them. If it’s going to be too smelly in a room that’s big for a bathroom but small in itself, then I don’t want to double the rodent count in there.

Tom was kind enough to clean my blender blades for me which isn’t that easy, and I made him mashed potatoes to go with his dinners this week.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 17, 2019 Haha, Poor Tom. I was teasing him about being able to eat between 1500 and 2000 calories without exercising and not gaining any weight. But he, with his perfectly working thyroid, has to eat less than 1500 calories to lose weight. He said he could probably come close to eating what I’ve been eating this last week and maintain the 10 pounds he’s lost so far, but remember, he’s a 5-foot 10-inch man. I’m a 4-foot 11-inch woman. I could probably eat up to 2000 calories with exercise, but I rarely eat that much anyway. That’s too much food for me like 1000 is too little. 1500 is ideal for me but too much to lose on.

Getting closer to labs so I’ve cut cholesterol way down but not as much sodium yet. Top BP number continues to be high while the bottom is slightly high as is common for my age. Especially at the end of my day. Right now, though, it’s not that bad.

The heatwave we were having has broken and I can go out for an evening walk later without melting. I’ve been running around this place topless in nothing but boy shorts and sitting in front of a fan, but now tanks and sundresses are tolerable, LOL.

Realizing Charlotte was getting up there in age, I checked to see if she was still alive and found that she died last December 1st at age 89. Kind of sad since she was one of the few family friends who were actually nice to us kids and seemed to really care without bad-mouthing us or anything like that. If she said the same kinds of nasty shit about me and my siblings that Aunt Ruth said, I never knew it. Charlotte just wasn’t like that whereas people like Ruth loved spreading rumors.

Tammy thanked me for the obit on Char. She didn’t know she died.

Knowing Judy was also getting way up in age, I looked for her and found she was still alive and 91 years old. I even found an article on her about fashion design and some school in NY. I never knew she had an interest in fashion or that she was an artist! I vaguely remember Baby Bargains, a store she owned for a while, but didn’t know she could draw/sketch. If that’s her work I saw, she’s WAY better than me, big gossiping motor mouth or not.

When I think about it, though, that’s not something my mother would’ve mentioned much. She was always jealous of those with artistic abilities that she knew personally. Went from a shitty to a fairly decent singer…she didn’t care. I could dance and skate…big deal. Shared some of my own sketches…so what? Shared some paintings and sculptures…not a word. She did, however, acknowledge that I taught myself ASL. Didn’t care about my spoken languages, though. I mean, so what if you can win karaoke contests singing a language you didn’t grow up with and taught your own self.

With so many people living well into their eighties and even their nineties these days, it almost seems like my parents died a bit young. It also worries me to know that women still live longer than men, I’m 8 years younger than my husband, don’t smoke, keep active, eat healthy for the most part, am just a little heavy, and am in pretty good shape and health. I won’t want to, but I could live 10-20 years after he passes and probably longer than anyone else in my family unless an accident or cancer sneaks up on me. Could still have a stroke or heart attack, but would likely live to 85-95 if I didn’t kill myself when he died.

Judy doesn’t do Facebook and I would never contact her any more than Andy’s brothers or sisters, but not only did I waste time saying hello to Phillip, I contacted Ruth as well. I’m sitting here asking myself why since there are other family members that didn’t treat me nearly as bad that I would totally ignore if they contacted me now. I really don’t do do-overs anymore. Yet, I contacted this woman who spread nasty rumors about me and even slapped me. Not sure what it was I said to earn that one, but this is when I stayed with her and her shit husband at the campgrounds in Connecticut before they kicked me out for smoking and letting a boy in my tent. Well, I don’t remember the boy ever harming me, but the boy was definitely not invited like they thought he was. Regardless, they made me sleep in their trailer the next night.

So, I don’t know why I reached out to her. I’m someone who’s always preferred to stick to the present, hasn’t felt a need to dwell on the past or let it affect me negatively because that would be letting the past win, and I’ve always focused on those who actually care and are presently in my life. Ruth-less was Ruth, though Dureen O was no better after giving me up to the state and telling people I attacked her with a knife (which changed to a hammer and then to scissors) because she very well couldn’t simply come out and say, “Hey, I just got sick of being a mom and wanted the house to myself and my husband.”

I know I’ll never hear from her or Phil because as far as they’re concerned, they’re always going to believe I’m guilty of what I’m not guilty of, and what I am guilty of (prank phone calls) will never be forgiven. I think that even if they didn’t harbor any resentment at this point, they still wouldn’t care about me any more than they would some stranger in the middle of Iran.

Some believe there’s an afterlife in which we’re scolded for not forgiving those we never forgave and for holding grudges. If that’s true then these two are in for quite a scolding, although I think we all have someone we can’t forgive for whatever. Like I could or would ever forgive the Phoenix people? Yet with most former friends and estranged family members, however, it isn’t so much a matter of me not being able to forgive them as it is me simply not wanting anything to do with them. I don’t hate them or wish bad things for them. I’m simply indifferent to them and consider them in the past.

Not doing as well as I thought with the anxiety after looking at my calendar. Yes, this is my best year so far. No doubt about it. But I’ve had a total of 8 days where I felt borderline or slightly anxious since July 11th. So, that’s still a little worrisome, but I’m going to continue on with my plans of slowly ramping up my dose and see what happens. Today I feel fine and Tom just thinks that I’m overly aware of how I feel after my scary experience and that I probably wouldn’t have noticed feeling a bit off under normal circumstances. Yeah, probably so.

Read an article about American Indians kidnapping and torturing white women to use as slaves and bargaining chips about 150 years ago, and it’s a reminder that they’re not all the perfect little innocent victims many think they are. None of them ever did anything to me personally, but many of them were actually quite violent.

Dixie is back to her usual chatty/whiny self. She hates the new firestick and finds it complicated and frustrating.

I guess we really aren’t the only ones who can’t move right when we want to and unless you own a place outright or you’re renting, it’s just not that easy to up and move. Then again, it isn’t always easy when you rent either. Not if you’re on unemployment during the worst recession ever like we were. The point is that Becky’s been planning the move to New Mexico for 6 years now.

Back from my walk in this gorgeous weather and hungry again, a sign I’m still youngish and healthy, and ready to pack in some tilapia, sautéed mushrooms, and an avocado.

Random memory popped into mind. Tom saying in the Phoenix House that the sex was so good it made him never want to cum.

So it was intentional? Or maybe at least some of it was? I guess only he can know for sure but regardless of how much may or may not have been out of his control, it was definitely a problem he had no problem with. I still can’t imagine why any man (or woman) wouldn’t want to come in the end. I can see delaying it since you don’t want things to be over too soon, but preventing it altogether? I don’t know, maybe it was in his control after all, and he denied himself orgasms to prevent pregnancy like I first suspected. Or maybe that, plus it was really something he enjoyed for some bizarre reason. Or maybe it was totally out of his control and him saying that was a form of denial to try to make it easier to deal with. Like I said, only he knows.

Another interesting Alyssa dream last night. We were living in an apartment building in a questionable part of town. I thought her apartment was the one next to us, so I put my ear to the wall trying to make out what the muffled voices I was hearing were saying.

I said to Tom with a laugh, “I never thought I would actually want to hear my neighbor’s.”

I was bummed out for us having to live in such a dumpy apartment and wondered if we’d ever own a place again. Then I wondered why Alyssa would live there of all places and assumed it was only temporary.

“This is a bad to average neighborhood, isn’t it?” I asked Tom.

“Yup,” he said.

Then I was invited to a party one night across the hall and realized that was actually Alyssa’s apartment and not the one next to us, only she wasn’t at the party itself which was held in the living room. Eventually, I wandered off to another section of the apartment, not realizing just how big the place was, and spotted her. She was in a long silky nightgown dunking a tea bag in a mug. Realizing I was naked with my hair in pigtails, I turned and ran back into the living room and dove behind a piece of furniture, hoping she wouldn’t recognize me if she noticed me.

Then one day we accidentally received a piece of her mail and thought about bringing it to her place myself, wondering how she might react if she recognized me.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 16, 2019 Tammy is now 62 and I’m still worried about her. The bad vibe I have for her this year may not be as strong but it’s still there. This isn’t a dream premonition like the dream I had of her losing a lot of weight before she did in real life, and I didn’t even know that dream was a sign and an actual premonition at the time I had it. Sometimes I don’t know what dreams may have any real meanings whereas other times I get a distinct feeling right away that it means something.

The bad feeling I’ve had for when she’s 62 was never a dream but just a feeling, a vibe, or whatever you want to call it. I can’t say what it is, but I have a very faint feeling it may be heart-related. Can’t swear to that one, though. I only know something big is likely to happen within the next year and it’s likely not good. I wish I could say I had a hit-or-miss accuracy rate, but unfortunately, I don’t. Tammy’s had enough shit, so “good” at this or not, I’m going to hope for the best.

My book Heart of the Forest is now on Kobo, so that makes 12 books! The editing and submission of Rainstorm is next.

Been having triple-digit weather and even I’m getting a little tired of the heat. How did I handle the desert all those years? I guess I was younger and skinnier. Made for a nice swim earlier, though. This may very well be our last triple-digit day of the year.

The clubhouse and the parking lot by the pool were packed, so something was going on there. The good thing about that is that it keeps people out of the pool so we can have it to ourselves. There was just one lady there that we’ve seen before and she left not long after we got there.

We saw the Twenties parked there and when I mentioned them being social butterflies, Tom said, “Nothing wrong with that.”

That’s right. There is nothing wrong with that. Neither is choosing to be friendless or close enough to it as we do. As Tom said, too many bad experiences in the past are why he is the way he is. Same here. I’ve got years' worth of journals full of entries about friends gone bad. I adore the few I have and I hope they’ll always be in my life, but for the most part, I really do believe there’s more bad out there than good and it’s important to be careful. It isn’t just that. Even if everyone was wonderful, I don’t feel the need to have a large circle of friends like many people do.

It’s people like Andy who feel the need to judge others for not being like they are or “normal” that I have a problem with, but that’s part of why I’m not a people person. I may not be perfect myself - far from it - but there are too many liars and narcissistic, selfish, intolerant and controlling people out there, not to mention those who aren’t right in the head, which can be the trickiest to deal with, especially if they’re delusional. If someone accuses you of spreading a rumor about them, for example, even if you know damn well you didn’t, you can tell them you didn’t, but you can’t make them believe you.

The funny thing is that I make friends rather easily for one who prefers to stick to herself. I’m just selfish that way, I guess. I like to spend most of my time on Tom, my pets, and myself. :-)

Finished up the laundry and changed both the rats’ and pigs’ cages. The digital shopping list is next.

Feeling a little off tonight, though I don’t know if anxious is the right word to describe it.

Alyssa put on a new profile picture of her and her family and where most babies are an ugly mass of fat and wrinkles, hers is cute. Getting more convinced she’s not reading anything I send so unless I’m incredibly bored, I don’t know that I’ll continue sending my life updates.

Had a dream about my cousin Phil which put him on my mind. He and a girlfriend had a house and I stayed with them for a few days. When I left, I came back for something I had forgotten a day or so later while they were out. Finding the glasses I left in the spare bedroom upstairs, I started down the stairs when I heard Phil come in and thought he would be upset with me for entering the house when no one was home. Instead, he called out my name happily and I told him I had come for stuff I forgot.

Even though it’s going against my do not reach out to those who don’t give a shit rule, I messaged him even though I don’t expect a reply. I do miss him at times, though. He was sort of like a big brother to me.

Noticed that Dixie has been a lot quieter so I sent an email and will see if I get the few paragraphs I used to get or just brief responses like “nice pics” and “thanks for the update” with nothing else about herself, Diane or politics, as that might tell me something if I do. Remember those delusional people not quite right in the head I mentioned? Well, I’m not saying she’s one of them because I don’t know her that well, but I’m usually a pretty good enough judge of character to get a general sense of what one may or may not be capable of when I meet them and let’s just say that Dixie strikes me as much more likely to get accusatory over something totally imaginative or misconstrued than people like Bob and Virginia would. Again, not saying that’s the case and I can’t imagine why she may be avoiding me if she actually is, but that’s the problem with the mentally unstable; they’re as unpredictable as they are predictable. Anything can be a problem for them at any time, real or imagined. I’ll wait and see what she says, though, before I assume too much.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 14, 2019 Starting this entry in the waiting room of my dermatologist’s office and therefore, I’m typing one finger at a time. I hate it too, but I’d be bored just sitting here so I’m doing it to pass the time. I’m amazed anyone would prefer this over the convenience of voice typing! It’s just so much easier to keep up with my thoughts that way, especially when I have lots to say. Hell, I can write by hand faster than this. but…to each their own. :-)

Lol, I just skyped Tom who’s sitting next to me and saw it pop up on his phone.

Okay, I’ve had enough of this one-finger typing. I’ll finish the entry with my voice later.

Later…

My appointment went well. Didn’t have to wait long and wasn’t there long, since she just took a quick look and yes, everything looks much better.

She gave me a copy of the pathology report I never received in the mail confirming that I don’t have a thickening membrane which is consistent with LS and all that. Had the fucking doctors diagnosed me correctly half a decade ago, it would have been discovered that it was some kind of contact irritation and I wouldn’t have over-treated it with the wrong stuff, making it worse. Even the Aquaphor barrier the GYN recommended isn’t good because it contains lanolin, something that some people are allergic to. I don’t think I am, but I don’t know for sure since I was using it when I was having problems. I don’t want to take a chance and ever use it again. She recommended Desitin if I want to use a barrier.

I’m going to keep on doing what I’ve been doing and hope I stay better. She said, however, that if I have any problems in the future or get any kind of rashes, they can put a patch on me that looks for the top 36 irritants, but I think I’ll be fine. I hope so anyway! I’m still too young to have all the damn appointments I’ve been having, even though they have been slowing down and should be even slower with just 6 appointments a year for the basic things, PCP, dentist, ENT, eye exams.

It’s my buddy and her significant other I’m worried about. Never have I known anyone that young to not only have so many appointments but also have to go to the ER and Urgent Care. Last time I had to deal with ERs was in my mid-20s when I had kick-ass asthma attacks. Quitting smoking was definitely one of the best things I ever did. It’s sad to see anyone suffer, but so young? Really hope they get a break soon!

Using the Healthy Hoof nail and cuticle cream that contains the same formula they use on horse hooves to help keep those areas soft and healthy. Maybe I should use them on my toes as well even though I don’t usually have that many cuticles.

We stopped at McDonald’s on the way back where he got a burger and I got chicken nuggets and fries. I ate like I hadn’t eaten in years. It was a nice treat since I rarely let myself have fried or processed stuff anymore.

I got both the paint-by-numbers I ordered and started a little of the rainy park scene, but I think I’m going to do the ballerina first. I already got a good chunk of the sky started.

They even have color-by-numbers. I definitely prefer working with pencils and markers as opposed to paint brushes, and sometimes I like to use my own imagination while other times I like to go by a specific guide or example.

I was psyched to discover that Word has its own built-in text reader that highlights the words as it reads them. I’ve been wanting something like this for a while and I’m sorry it took me so long to discover this wonderfully handy feature. I like how it starts reading wherever I set the cursor instead of automatically reading from the beginning or having to highlight what I want it to read. The pages move down too, as it reads through them. So, I can always see what it’s reading which is helpful for anything but especially stuff you plan to publish. I’m still fine-tuning Heart of the Forest and it should be out there within a week for no one to buy. I’m going to have to email them and ask if I’m doing anything wrong, even though everything looks right to me.

I got to thinking about it and while I was excited at the prospect of getting out of here in a year or two and living in the country somewhere in New Mexico or Nevada till he turns 70 and then finishing our lives in Florida, I really don’t think that would be wise. First of all, I can’t see us able to get out of here before he’s at least 66. He can’t retire till he’s 66.5 which means he’s got almost 4.5 more years to go. So, unless there’s money in our near future that neither of us can see, I really don’t see us getting out of here before 2024. Even if he’s right about making a few hundred dollars a month with apps, that’s going to take time to build up. That’s not something you can just do in a few weeks or even a few months. So, the smartest thing to do would be to just stay put and go to another park in Florida at that time. Then if he wants to work part or full-time until he’s 70…fine.

I may complain about all the noise, but this is what I’m used to and mostly all I’ve ever known as an adult. With the exception of barking, I wasn’t used to so much activity after living in Maricopa and then Auburn. But now this is what I’m used to. Landscaping, projects, traffic, planes, etc.

The only thing I want to do differently in the next place is get the bedroom further from the street. I’d also like to be on a street that doesn’t get nearly as much traffic. In the daytime, you’re lucky to go 5 minutes without something going by here and you’re lucky to go more than an hour or 90 minutes max in the middle of the night. It would be nice to get on some street that rarely gets traffic after dark.

The bulk trash collectors are late again. Was hoping they would come while we were out but why would they? Instead, they’ll come tomorrow and wake me up or annoy me if I’m already up.

Okay… In Deadly Women’s Cling Til Death, which is episode 4 of season 10, Candice DeLong specifically says that envy is defined as “I like what you have. I want it, too.” Jealousy is defined as, “I like what you have. I hate you for having it!”

That’s what I was taught these words meant, but I guess they differ in different regions. Not to change anyone’s way of using them, but this way people will know what I mean if I use them.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 13, 2019 Looking forward to the 2 paint-by-numbers I ordered! they’re 20x16. One is Swans & Ballerina where a ballerina appears to be on pointe on a moonlit lake with the swans nearby. The other, Romance Under the Umbrella, shows a couple walking through a rainy park at night.

I transferred my coloring station to my big desk. I realized it was silly to use the dining table which has poor lighting when my desk is now empty.

Saved some YouTube vids on some rather unique and interesting ways to paint using different things like balloons, sponges, aluminum and Q-tips. Kind of like the idea of getting some canvases, paints and the black poster board I would need to do one of the paintings I saw in a vid but hobbies do cost money, so we’ll see. Will start with the paint-by-numbers and then one of the diamond paintings. I watched a video on how that’s done and it looks pretty simple. It should be easier than painting but not necessarily quicker, depending on how detailed the image is. You can get a partially drilled one where part of the image is filled in for you or you can get a full drill. I learned how to use the drill tool.

Traffic woke me up at 8 o’clock and I tried to get up then but I couldn’t. I should still be up in plenty of time for my appointment tomorrow. Tom will get me up if not, though.

When I got up I found a voicemail waiting for me from Dixie asking me to come down and help move an old computer out to the street for her because tomorrow is the bulk trash collection.

So about an hour later, after I’d had my coffee and a chance to wake up, I took a walk down in what’s getting to be a very hot day. someone beat me to it and brought the computer out for her. It would have been nice if she called back to let me know, but she was kind enough to give me some extra celery she got from Sam’s to give to the pigs.

Oh, yay! Just heard from Tammy, who isn’t great with picking up messages right away, LOL. She said she hasn’t slept since her surgery yesterday so she’s going to try to catch some Z’s now. Hopefully, she’ll find relief this time around!

Ask is back to their usual shit with me. This time it’s a pop-up with a robotic voice claiming my Mac is infected, and I can’t get rid of it unless I close my browser. So they know who I am. I don’t understand why they don’t just ban users whose questions and answers they don’t like. Instead, they have to troll them. They haven’t figured out Aly yet because she still hasn’t had any problems and she’s had her current account for a while. Really, though, if you want certain questions and answers on your site, why not just write them yourself? Well, they got what they wanted and that’s to get rid of me because I won’t even go to their site to read other people’s Q&As. For now, I’ll be back on CC.

Yesterday I told Tom he’d have to give me cash, since I’m not used to using credit cards, in case Dixie ever wants to go out to lunch. He told me I should have a lot of cash in my purse, but I thought I was all out.

“No. You only gave me $5 to pay for parking when we saw Dr. O. You should have a lot of cash.”

So I checked one of the inner pockets in my purse, and sure enough, he counted $78 of cash which I pulled out.

Then something funny hit me and I said, “Imagine having $78 in my purse less than a decade ago and being able to simply forget about it?” LOL

Me and my fucking memory issues, though! I used to have a pretty good memory and I miss it. Oh, the joys of aging.

Last night I dreamed that instead of moving to Nevada or New Mexico and going rural until he hit 70 and we hit Florida, we went back to our Maricopa house instead. We’d never step foot in that state, but we were there in the dream, nonetheless. The master suite and living room looked like it did for real, but the back of the house looked different. Tom’s bedroom was in back and there was a regular door off the kitchen.

A serial rapist had been stalking the area and when Tom went to bed one evening he told me not to go outside and to stay indoors where I would be safe.

“Believe me, I’m not going out there where some guy could sneak up on me with a knife or something.”

Later I was going to email him and tell him how much I loved it there and was so glad we returned, and to please get me up at a certain time.

But then a storm picked up and I noticed the back door wasn’t very secure. It wasn’t pushing the door all the way open but it was close to where it was cracked. I told myself not to worry about it and that Tom could secure it soon enough.

The lights were off and I looked out the front windows at the shadows moving about in front, only the land sloped upwards instead of downwards like it did in real life.

Then the neighbors, who were much closer than in real life - if I didn’t have bionic vision - pulled into their driveway. It was a married couple. Somehow, the guy saw me through the dark and the distance and reached out a hand in my direction in a way that I perceived as threatening. Infuriated, I made a “come on” signal with my hands, gesturing for him to dare come over.

MONDAY, AUGUST 12, 2019 I love how we can just look up almost anything on the internet these days. Like a good way to roast potatoes. It’s pretty simple. You just cut them up, throw them in a bag, add a little oil and garlic salt, shake it all up, and bake them at 450 degrees for 20 minutes. It just would have been better if I had remembered to spray the tin foil I put them on so they wouldn’t stick. They still came out good. Making them this way makes them take longer to eat and seem like more than just one potato.

Also, putting avocados in a brown paper bag definitely makes them ripen faster. Last week I got avocados on a Friday and couldn’t eat them till Tuesday. Yet now I’m already able to eat the avocados we got two days ago. Good thing I put some in the refrigerator.

The avocado tool was a waste but then it wasn’t. It splits the avocado easier than a regular knife but the pitter and slicer are crap.

What was a waste of money was the blending pen I got for my art and coloring. It softens the colors but does not blend them.

I took a walk down and visited Dixie for an hour and a half. That lady sure loves to talk. :-) Exchanged hellos with Bob and Virginia on the way back. They were sitting on their patio.

I also exchanged hellos with the black woman next to Dixie who she said got mad at her for whatever. I’m still not clear what that was about because Dixie has memory issues and can get kind of contradictory. First, the woman got mad at herself for not being able to figure out something about her TV and then at Dixie for yelling at Diane. Her “yelling” was actually her calling to her down the hall and I guess the sound carried through the open window. The houses are close and Dixie can hear the woman on the other side doing dishes early in the morning when the windows are open.

The impression I get is that the black woman (I don’t know her name), along with Santa/Grandpa, doesn’t really care for her. But Elaine, on the other side of her and whom I think I remember working out with at the clubhouse, does visit every now and then.

She talks about the condo she lived in here in town for 30 years and seems to really miss it. Her disability caused her to have to get something at ground level, so that’s why she moved here.

I’ve never actually gotten a good look at Diane because one time she was sitting behind the counter and the other in the car. Dixie says she has very big feet and legs and has a hard time walking. Scoliosis, I think is what she said she has.

While Dixie adores her, she describes her as getting smart and sassy at times much like a rebellious teen, not wanting to do things to help out, etc.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 11, 2019 I’m glad Kim only blogs (that I know of) when Camp NaNoWriMo is going on. That way I don’t always have to feel obligated to comment on her journals which are pretty much only about Sara and June.

I don’t get why different people have different definitions for the words envy and jealousy. I was always taught that jealousy is worse than envy. Jodi Arias’s motive is listed as jealousy on Wiki. Also, on Deadly Women, the former FBI profiler speaks of untamed envy that isn’t quelled possibly turning into jealousy and becoming dangerous.

Yeah, that’s what I was taught. If you say you envy someone for something, you’re saying the same thing as “I wish I had that” or “I wish I could do that.”

Jealous people not only want what someone else has, but they also don’t want the person who has it to have it. Instead of feeling happy or glad when someone succeeds, they’re angry and don’t want them to have what they have if they can’t have it, too. Right?

I guess it’s different in different regions just like when you say you want to jump someone in the west vs in the east. In the West, you’re saying you want to have sex with them. In the East, you’re saying you want to kick their ass.

Anyway, I’m envious of those that can make money doing what they want. I totally believe without a doubt that something up there doesn’t want me making money. It wouldn’t have put the CRD curse on me if it did, would it? I can’t sell a single book. Not one single fucking book. Fuck life not being what we plan it! Why shouldn’t I be able to make at least a few hundred lousy bucks a month writing?

So I was going to say “fuck it” and delete my books. Why work at what can never be? Yet they don’t make it easy to unpublish your books. First, you have to unlist them, some of which can’t be unlisted because they’re included in certain membership benefits, and then you have to contact them. So Amazon and Kobo are opposites. Amazon makes it tough to publish stuff, but easy to take your shit off their shelves. It’s just the opposite with Kobo.

I guess I’ll continue the editing and publishing because it’s what I like to do anyway and just not expect any money to be made but another way of backing stuff up instead in what’s a unique and fancy way. I’m not going to schedule any books for pre-order either.

I’m both pleased and surprised that I haven’t heard the mama’s boy since last weekend. I was totally expecting the bastard to return this weekend. Something really bad had to have happened. Something like totaling his car, getting arrested, or getting seriously ill or injured.

The dark spots on my nails have faded but they’re still pretty noticeable. While I know it’s nothing serious, I’m curious as to what it may be, so I’m going to ask Amy her opinion. It’s got to be either a stain or a fungus. There really isn’t anything else it could be. They’re definitely not infected.

We went to Walmart this morning and shopped to the usual blasting music that always annoys the fuck out of me.

I’m thrilled that the more I have avocados, the more it looks like, in spite of my Hashimoto’s, age and shitty genetics, I shouldn’t have to worry about ever hitting the 160s. I can just stay in the low 150s indefinitely - yes! Totally awesome, and hey, I like avocados.

They sure aren’t kidding when they say that processed foods can make you gain weight because for variety I got a small pizza and it’s already jacked me up a couple of pounds. No problem. I’ll simply avocado them back off. :-)

Not going to cut meat out for another week since I won’t be going to the lab until the week of the 6th. so I’ve got some tilapia, party wings, and a few beef patties for variety. Tom can have some of the beef. The only processed items I have are the creamer I put in the single cup of coffee I have each day and my kiddy Go-Gurts.

Yesterday I started to feel kind of wound up but nothing significant came of it. Therefore I’m going to go on with my full pills twice a week for the rest of the month.

On Tuesday I’ll probably pick up some Merlot at Rite Aid to help me sleep before my Wednesday appointment with Amy.

Ugh, the planes are back to bordering on annoying today. They’re not as loud as they used to be, but come September I wouldn’t be surprised if they were back to driving me crazy, especially in the early mornings and at night.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 10, 2019 Ordered a variety of K-cups… French vanilla, cinnamon, caramel, butter toffee, blueberry vanilla, maple syrup, hazelnut, and butter pecan.

Also, a 3-in-1 avocado tool that splits, pits and slices avocados, a cute little avocado keeper, and a 0-calorie butter spray for my air-popped popcorn.

He got a tablet for drawing graphics for his apps, plus his CoQ10.

Tom has lost 9 lbs since he began dieting a few weeks ago. I’ve lost 2 but this is all I’m able to lose. The good news is that avocados definitely seem like they’ll keep me from gaining weight as long as I have one a day. I can live with that! :-) The 150s isn’t that bad when you consider how many people are over 200, and the fact that a lot of my weight is muscle.

We went to Sam’s earlier and stocked up on produce. Last night I downloaded a convenient shopping list app and it’s definitely easier to tap the boxes to check off what I got rather than scratch off a list. It’s a handy tool for sure.

Heard from Dixie who just got a Fire Stick and is excited to get Netflix and become a Prime member and all that. We still like Netflix but lately, we’ve been enjoying Hulu more. They even started remembering where I left off if I don’t watch something all at once.

Moved my office back into the bedroom because there were just too many distractions in the living room. Sound definitely gets in that room easier with all those big windows. Constant landscaping, car doors slamming, and then there’s Geri the company junkie. That woman can’t go more than a day or two without company and I swear every single vehicle that visits is loud, too. There were three vehicles there yesterday and I saw a husky sticking its head out the window of one of them. Fortunately, I didn’t have to hear it.

Bob said Ralph’s house has sold so we’ll soon know what we’re in for where that’s concerned.

I was stunned to see a house by the lake for sale for $215,000. Yeah, only in Cali will you find a nearly quarter-million-dollar manufactured home. It’s got a full lake view but I doubt they’ll get that much for it.

If there’s anything I hate, it’s struggling for what isn’t meant to be. That is just so exhausting, pointless and frustrated. Learned that a long time ago. Therefore, since I’m obviously not meant to be an author for whatever reason - maybe I’m not good enough - I’m probably going to be pulling my books off of Kobo and writing for my own enjoyment only from now on. There are just way too many books out there despite all the people that claim they hate to write and that can’t write well, etc.

Aly asked how much my books were going for yesterday when I told her how disappointed I was by the lack of sales, but I know it’s not because she’s interested in getting any. If she was interested, or anyone else was, they would have gotten something by now.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 9, 2019 I can’t get a single person to buy my books. Not a single person. Very discouraging. Makes me feel like I’m not good enough to be an author and maybe I’m not. Even though it doesn’t cost anything I may pull my books off of Kobo and just write for my own enjoyment. Why struggle for what isn’t meant to be?

Didn’t sleep all that great last night because I was up a long time and I only slept about 6 hours, if even that. Canceled my visit with Dixie and she understood. Besides, she has other obligations. They’re coming to install railings along her front walkway.

Avocados still seem to help keep my weight stable and they even quell hunger to a degree. I think I might try having half an avocado at the beginning of my day and a half at the end of my day.

Still going to wait to polish my fingernails which seem better, but knowing that the toe fungus won’t go away completely without medication I won’t take, I decided to polish those. Polished toes definitely look better than bare/fungus toes! So great to have polish on again! Some dancers said they felt “naked” without gloves. Well, I’m totally naked without my polish!

THURSDAY, AUGUST 8, 2019 I always said there’s no magic food for weight loss, especially for me, but I’m wondering if avocados might at least make it harder to gain. Just something I discovered accidentally. Been looking for high-protein foods to replace the meat I’m eventually going to phase out of my diet and since I don’t want to have eggs because they’re high in cholesterol, avocados were one of the things I chose besides nuts.

Anyway, after having avocados for breakfast for a few days, I noticed my weight was down a little. Dixie said she lost weight after eating a lot of pistachio nuts. Wanting to see if there were other claims of weight loss connected to pistachio nuts, I investigated a little online, and when researching recommended foods, avocados was one of the ones that came up. There was a study done in which a group of people who had avocados while dieting lost more weight than those who didn’t include avocados and their diet. Also, they took a group of people who had lost weight and had half of them eat avocados and half of them not eat them. Those that didn’t, regained their lost weight. I don’t think it will make me lose much weight but it might make it easier to stay around where I’m at.

Tom and I were discussing this interesting article which I forwarded to Aly about antibiotics being linked to weight gain since people didn’t really start gaining weight until they were discovered about a century ago. Even though I’ve only had antibiotics once since the 90s for an infected tooth, they’re in everything. The animals we eat were fed them. They say they’re a long way away, but that someday they might be able to give people a pill that kills the microbes and bacteria that build up in the stomach and makes it easier to gain weight. I do believe there will be a breakthrough in the obesity epidemic, but probably not in my lifetime. For now, I’m glad I’m a little bit overweight and not obese. If I was one who hated to work out, it could have been a lot worse for me.

Lately, I’ve been starting to think that things have been a little too good to be true and I’m trying not to think that way. It’s just that so many things don’t usually go so well for me, so I’m trying not to worry that it may be the calm before the next storm, whatever that may be. If anything, these should be seen as rewards for all the shit I’ve been through. But yeah, all of a sudden a lot of things seem to be falling into place and going really well.

I finally find the off switch for my anxiety.

I’m right on the verge of finally hitting menopause.

I meet what seems to be a really good in-person friend that I would feel more comfortable running to if the anxiety were to return than I would anyone else around here that I’ve known for years.

His programming looks more promising.

My TMJ has been better.

I discovered something that helps my toenails better.

I’m sleeping better.

My skin issues are virtually gone.

And now I may have found something to help control my weight.

Now all we need is something to help control this maddening landscaping frenzy! OMG, yesterday and the day before it was absolutely horrible with between 4 to 6 rounds of it each day. Sometimes the same sections were being done and I’m like, how many fucking times can you cut the same blade of grass? How many times can you blow the same damn leaves? How many times can you trim the same branches? It was horrible. I don’t know that I can stand to work in the living room during the daytime because you hear things so easily in there. I love the big screen but I’ll probably just take my laptop into the bedroom during those times. Again, you would think by now I would be used to it after 6 years but it’s still very annoying and distracting, especially when I’m trying to concentrate on something. Definitely miss living where landscaping sounds were once a week or less. Instead, it’s nearly every day all year round.

Tom saw the nurse practitioner on the way to work and will see the doctor next month. He said there wasn’t any waiting time and it was an American nurse he saw. Everything was good.

During a free moment yesterday, I went back to that video chat, and I don’t know why I was expecting anything different because the first guy wanted to cum all over my glasses which is a definite first. Gross as hell, but something I never heard before. After Mr. Original but Disgusting, the second one immediately focused on my large and exercise-lifted boobies, so I think I will definitely pass on that site, LOL.

I know the last time I wrote about that place I referred to some people as sluts, but I think “pervert” would be a more appropriate word. To me, a slut is someone who sleeps around a lot and there’s nothing wrong with that as long as they’re having fun and it’s all mutual. Never saw the “sin” in playing the field as long as no one gets led on or hurt in any way.

I’m happy for Aly who starts a job as a kindergarten aide next week and after 90 days she’ll have full benefits. Cam isn’t doing well, though. He’s been depressed and in pain.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 7, 2019 The fact that I’m cold in a 77° room and my hair is falling out a lot makes me think I’m pretty hypo. But the rate of speed my hair and nails are growing says otherwise. Really hope my TSH isn’t over 20, 25 at the very max!

My goal is 3 puzzle walks a day (when I’m not outdoors), which will total 30-45 minutes on average.

Slept pretty well the last time around on nights and I think it’s mostly because that fucking car hasn’t been around much lately. I’m sure it isn’t by choice on the part of the slacker’s and that it will be back soon enough, but I’m really enjoying it while it’s gone. There is still plenty of loud traffic, but that car is absolutely ferocious.

Menopause is now exactly two months away! I really hope I make it! It will definitely be an unapologetically emotional day for me not so much because I’m done with periods but because I survived the worst hell of my life. What I went through physically was worse than every single cold, flu, ache and pain I ever had all rolled into one, and what I went through emotionally was worse than all my depressing, frustrating, infuriating and downright terrifying days combined. I was literally tortured to hell and back and if there is any God up there that sat back and allowed it to happen, that alone is grounds for never forgiving it.

The only thing that worries me is… What’s next? I only seem to get a year or two off between crises, so I worry about what may lie beyond, even though nothing can possibly be as bad or worse. If it’s worse, it’ll kill me for sure.

When I think about how the punk hasn’t been around and finally meeting someone who just may turn out to be a good in-person friend, I wonder if we’re closer to the end than I realize. Could we really be out of here in just a year or two? I mean it doesn’t seem likely when I look at it realistically. Besides, that car is coming back sooner or later to make its 1-2 daily trips a day in and out, and Dixie isn’t someone I absolutely have to have as a neighbor. There are other Dixies out there, anyway. I don’t know if there’s another cyber friend like Aly, but there are other good neighbors even for us, believe it or not. Yeah, Bob and Virginia have really turned out to be the first good neighbors we ever had together. So it took 20 years of being together to finally get good neighbors. The point is I don’t have to have Dixie in my life, and the car’s absence is only temporary, so I guess I shouldn’t read anything into it.

The discoloration in my nails seems to have faded a bit, though I do have a dent in the thumb. I showed Aly a pic of it and she thinks it’s the nail and not underneath.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 6, 2019 Spent an hour and a half at Dixie’s place yesterday morning, and she really is turning out to be a good friend. I waited till I heard and saw the Pride bus come and pick up Diane, then I went down to see her.

While we munched on bowls of watermelon, I showed her the ropes when it came to using her Android. It’s not the exact same model as mine but similar enough. I felt really smart being able to show her all I showed her, even though most people know this stuff, LOL. But she didn’t even know how to answer a call and I had to show her by calling her on my own phone. I showed her what the icons were for, how to text, and take pictures. I showed her a few other things as well but didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much at once when she has enough memory issues as it is.

Given that she’s already had problems with two neighbors and her own daughter hasn’t spoken to her in nearly a year, one might think that should raise a red flag, yet I really do feel comfortable with her and like I can be myself without judgment. As anyone who knows me knows, any toxic drama, lies and getting selfish and demanding drives me away and I prefer to avoid those who are mentally unstable in the way a few people I could name have been known to be. Although Dixie doesn’t often have anything positive or funny to say, she doesn’t bring me down or come off as depressing. I don’t mind when she swears and she doesn’t mind when I do, and we seem to have similar interests and beliefs.

I asked her if she had any kids of her own and she does have a daughter. Dixie’s been married three times, and her daughter, a retired schoolteacher, married a rich guy and has changed ever since. According to her, she just doesn’t have time to bother with her mother and other people since becoming wealthy. That’s the impression I get, anyway. Sometimes she’s a little hard to understand not because she has any speech impediments or a strange accent, but she doesn’t always stay on topic. She seems to be easily distracted so she doesn’t always make herself clear.

In a previous visit, she said something about being careful who she says what to so her words don’t get twisted. Yesterday she said she already got the black woman next to her upset with her, but the answer she gave me as to why made no sense. Something about her helping her to install something for her TV and then getting angry that she couldn’t figure out how to do it. At least I think that’s what she was saying, but then Dixie said something about telling her, “Well, I didn’t tell you you had to do this,” so I don’t know. I never met the woman. I saw the lower part of her when she was out watering some trees that divides the properties. We were sitting in her dining area and could see her just beyond the carport.

She calls Santa Grandpa and started to say something negative about him or maybe some problem she had with him but wouldn’t really get into it and I didn’t want to pry and seem nosey. After all, it’s between her and whoever.

I learned some interesting things about some of her family as well. She has a brother and a sister who committed suicide. I was surprised to hear this but didn’t ask why for the same reasons I didn’t push her on Santa/Grandpa.

She has a famous niece as well. I never heard of her because I’ve never been into the soaps. Andy would know who Sherilyn Wolter was, though. She was on General Hospital in the 80s and lives in Hawaii on the Kauai Island.

Then we got to talking about health issues and she too, is on Levothyroxine and has had the same booming heart problem with it when they first raised her dose from 50 to 100.

Speaking of that, I’ve decided to start taking 75 twice a week. Then, if I continue to have no issues with anxiety, the next month I’ll make it three times a week and keep going up until it’s every day. There’s no doubt that other brands caused some of my anxiety, but this will tell me if the dose is still an issue or not, especially if I ramp it up slowly. I hope not! I would really love to give my body as much of the thyroid hormone it needs.

I was telling Dixie that I need statins but am afraid to take them and she too is wary of medication. According to her, however, she has a brother who’s a pharmacist and he says as long as your triglycerides and good cholesterol are good, you don’t need them, and she’s had high cholesterol all her life. This is nice to know, though I don’t remember if my good cholesterol or triglycerides were bad or not. Pretty sure my bad cholesterol was bad, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not taking statins.

Perimenopause was a nightmare for her as well. Can’t remember much else as far as what we talked about other than that she attends AA meetings and Diana collects stuffed animals, though I didn’t see the collection which I’m guessing was in her room.

A few days ago, furniture was moved from Dusty’s house and now it’s for sale, as I expected it to be. So that makes two houses I have to hope don’t have loud vehicles or lots of loud company/projects. But the woman Dusty cared for didn’t die. Bob said her name was Tina and that she went to live with her sister in Idaho.

Said hello to Jim the other morning who has been walking with a tall, slim, long-haired brunette lately. Don’t know who she is. I’m never close enough to get a sense of her age. I get the feeling she’s not his wife, so maybe a daughter or caretaker.

Now for a nail update. I sent Aly a picture to get her opinion. Tom and I are thinking it’s some kind of chemical contact stain. It doesn’t seem the right color for fungus, and I’m not even sure if it’s the nail or the nail bed. Tom thinks it’s the nail.

There’s no pain or tenderness which rules out a bacterial infection, but I doubt it’s melanoma because a dark stripe usually signals melanoma in the nails (this is more like a dark stain) and I don’t think you would have that in multiple fingernails at once. They almost look bruised. There’s definitely no stripe. They’re just dark spots, but I’m not worried as it will probably grow out or fade.

I read online that vinegar is good for nail fungus so I soaked my big toe which definitely has a type of fungus because this is a yellowy-white color instead of the brownish-purple like what’s in my fingernails, and I was amazed at the difference it made. Maybe this will be more effective than the stuff I’ve been brushing on. The brush-on stuff helps, but ever so slowly.

Today is one of those days where I’m reminded of why I don’t usually like to work in the living room during the daytime. Lots of doors slamming. Some van is at Trisha’s and I guess they’re working on something. Would it really be so hard to leave their damn doors open while they’re at it instead of going back and forth slamming them every few minutes?

MONDAY, AUGUST 5, 2019 Got these mysterious dark spots on my left thumbnail as well as my ring and middle fingers. Noticed the ring and middle fingers yesterday and this is through 2 coats of hot pink nail polish. Noticed the thumb about a week ago but thought it was discoloration from nail polish. It’s probably nothing, though it’s too soon to say exactly what it is. Could be linear melanonychia which is just excessive pigment. Subungual melanoma is what you definitely don’t want to have, of course. I’ll know more when I remove my polish in about a week, but today I noticed that the thumbnail is no longer flat. There’s a slight dent where the coloration starts. Doubt it’s anything to worry about, even though it would be just my shit luck to finally get my health (and my sanity) back on track just to have a whole new problem begin.

If I can get past August 21st without a period, I will be breaking my 10-month record. Exciting! 63 days till menopause! It’s even more exciting when you went through one of the worst cases of perimenopause one could suffer.

Nothing’s as exciting as the continuing success of my medication experiment! Definitely gotta stick to the brand I’ve been taking, but keep under 75mcg forever? I don’t know that one yet, but I’ll find out soon enough.

My stomach shrunk more than I realized it did. In making a point of having non-processed foods, I’d been craving pizza, even though it’s not my favorite cuisine. So we grabbed a pizza to share when picking up some things at Walmart and I was so hungry and eager to have some variety that I thought I could eat at least half of it. But after two pieces I was stuffed as hell.

We went to the park by our place, but I think I’m going to skip the parks from now on because people bring too many big dogs and most of them are allowed to run loose.

We’re going out for a half-hour walk soon, then later this morning I’ll take a walk down to Dixie’s.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 4, 2019 He’s lost 7 lb so far on our diet and I’ve lost 0, which pretty much confirms I’m exactly where I need to be and am meant to be. That’s okay because I know that how we feel and the inches around our waist are more important than the numbers on the scale, and I’d say I’m not doing too bad for a 53-year-old. Plus, as he pointed out, he has 100 lbs to lose. I do not.

Going to leave my weight be and focus more on ingredients as I have been but I’m going to be doing this even more so as it gets closer to my next trip to the lab. My goal is to go vegan 6 days a week and focus on fruits, veggies, beans, grains, nuts and seeds. I’ll have a little pasta here and there and a small yogurt. Only on Sundays will I allow myself to eat meat.

The nailbed (or maybe the nail itself?) on about half of my left thumb is purplish. I’ve had it a while and at first I thought it was discolored from regular use of nail polish but it’s not. From what I Googled, it can be anything from melanoma to anemia to a lack of vitamin B12 to fungus. Doesn’t quite look the right color to be fungus and I highly doubt it’s melanoma because you usually have brown or black stripes with that. I think it just has to do with a shift in pigmentation.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 3, 2019 Don’t know how old it is, but Becky got a three-bedroom, two-bath house at the base of the Organ Mountains in New Mexico for 125K. There are five outbuildings, including a workshop and a two-car garage and it’s on a parcel of land that’s just over two acres. She has fibromyalgia, arthritis, and mild lupus, so it was recommended that she get out of Connecticut and to a dry climate.

So happy for her! But wait till she learns the hard way that dogs aren’t considered pets in the West but live outdoor decor instead, and has to listen to non-stop barking, especially at night when sounds carry better. The country is still much quieter than the city, though. No daily traffic, no car door slamming, no projects, no planes, no loud traffic just a few feet away. Could be hunters and sonic booms, though.

I’m wondering if Ralph’s house sold because I don’t see any flyers stuck to the for-sale sign anymore. I just hope they don’t have a loud vehicle, excessive company, and aren’t project junkies!

The fish has been pretty funny lately. They like to chase things just like rats do. So every time I sit down to color, which is by his tank, he eagerly swims up in anticipation of playing the Chase the Colored Pencil game, LOL, that I drag across the outside of the tank.

Exchanged emails with Dixie who is happy to have my friendship, as she tells me. She says it’s interesting to learn about me like my coloring, and I had to laugh at that one and imagine just how “interesting” she’d find certain other things I’ve experienced, haha.

She and Diane are going to try to tackle some housecleaning this weekend, but it’s hard with her limp and she’s not liking the heat. I love every toasty second of it. :-)

Glad my bestie’s BF is home, but feel bad for him because he has to give up a job he enjoyed, and that’s rare. Most people hate their jobs.

Gonna email Tammy entries the same way I do Aly because it’s easier that way. All I have to do on a Mac in Safari is hit ‘ctrl I’ and the entry will automatically open in an email. Easier than copying/pasting to our group.

So last night’s dreams included one of me going to see Stacey. But instead of Stacey sitting and listening to me, she wasted our session talking to someone else. Finally, I got pissed and left the place after demanding my money back.

Then I had a dream we were living who knows where when people moved in across the street with a dog they left tied down on their patio yipping away. It was quite annoying and even more annoying to know that complaining wouldn’t do me any good other than to cause them to retaliate.

But then the houses became an apartment building and these new neighbors were over our place visiting. It was a couple with someone else living with them but I’m not sure who. The guy was talking about setting up his office in the hallway, something I was anything but glad to hear.

Having my desk right by the treadmill has not encouraged me to walk more, probably because I know I won’t get results. It will still make it much more convenient for when the weather gets too cold or too wet for outdoor walking to do puzzles while I walk. I’m taking tonight off because I usually take weekends off anyway. Can’t do just anything on a TM anyway. It’s really only good for things like puzzles, shows, and listening to books.

Going to the park at sunup and then to Walmart and then to Rite Aid.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 2, 2019 Went for my walk and it was beautiful. A little cooler because I waited until later to go out. Beautiful cool breeze and only one skunk sighting. The app says I made the trip in 20 minutes but the route is wrong. I went the exact same way I went yesterday which I think was 25 minutes, but today’s route has a triangle shape whereas yesterday’s has a rectangle. Could have made it in 23 because the more I do this, the faster I get. I jogged some parts of it.

The only thing to spoil the peace was the usual nighttime annoyance…planes. These are the small ones that fly nowhere. One or two of them were circling around during a part of my walk. They’re nothing compared to the commercials, though, so it’s going to be a lot worse once those hit the scene again.

Just one message from Dixie this time. The Pride driver dropped Diane off and she asked him to carry in what she was sure was the watermelon she left outside. Instead, it was the sack of clothes. She thanked me and said she had some watermelon for me. I’ll have to let her know that by the time I get back there, it will be bad, but thanks for the offer. Will probably take a walk down Monday morning.

If she’s visited my blog, she’s not showing up on my tracker.

Since my 2009 story Forget It was too stupid to submit for publication, I thought my 2006 story Heart of the Forest would be even dumber, but so far it seems submission worthy for no one to buy. Running it through my text reader as I color.

His test app has been getting some downloads. It doesn’t count every single DL but in increments instead. He’s not sure when the “real” app will be ready. He’s been doing overtime again which means he has less free time.

I had this dream I was in a bathroom off of a large room and was just about to pee when a group of black bitches came barging into it. Then they stole some electronics that were in the large room, including a stereo system I really liked.

Then I had a dream about meeting Jessie at the home of Big Bird and his wife, but I was supposed to get there first. I even went a few days ahead of Tom. The adult me got to know the now older Mrs. Spinney, only in the dream, Mrs. Hall was still Mrs. Spinney. So it was Barbra, not Deborah.

Once Tom arrived, I told him that “all the birds were there,” even though there was only one Big Bird. He and I were sitting at a table with his ex-wife who was his current wife in the dream, as I said, and I said that not too long ago I had a dream that Mrs. Twitter (referring to her) did such and such a thing. it was later that I realized calling her Mrs. “Twitter” was a mistake.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 1, 2019 Not much to update on other than that I had a warm but pleasant evening walk for a half-hour (no skunks), and I might have made a mistake by befriending Dixie. Now, I have no problem with helping people when I have the time and if it’s in a way I can help them. Everybody needs help at times. I get that.

But did I really need to wake up to three voice messages and one email from her? I hate people that get too demanding and clingy. First she had computer problems and then she said she talked to someone who said it sounded like a virus. Then she wanted me to walk down there because there was a watermelon in her car that was too heavy for her to bring into her house. Well, how did she get it in the car in the first place?

I do appreciate that she invited me to come along to Sam’s with her but as I told her in my reply, we go every Saturday and that’s enough for us. She knows I’m not always on days so she’ll just have to wait till I’m available for whatever. Besides, up or not, I’m not always right by my phone or laptop.

One of the calls she made to me was from a cell since she wants to learn to do texting. I texted that number as well as sent email, so I didn’t blow her off or anything like that. In fact, I took a walk down at around 8:30 and didn’t see her sitting on her patio. Only the back corner of the place, which I’m guessing is Diane’s bedroom, was lit. While she probably would have gladly come to the door had I rang her bell, I didn’t want to disturb her if she was helping Diane with her shower or wake her up if she had already fallen asleep.

Since she’s skinny, I did leave a bag containing half a dozen or so items of clothing I’m too big for such as a few tops, a dress, a cover-up, and a few pairs of pants. I left those in a bag on her patio.

I was going to either email or visit her in a week or so and didn’t really expect to hear from her so soon but I’m guessing she’s just lonely and that Diane, as much as she may love her, really takes a bite out of her.

I don’t think she’ll turn on me or spite me in any way if she gets to the point where I have to put my foot down and tell her to give me some breathing space and I honestly can’t think of a way she could if she wanted to, so I’d say she’s definitely harmless. The woman can barely walk and thank God for that much or else she’d be pounding on my door. I’m also grateful that she’s four doors down and not one and doesn’t do social media, LOL. I did give her links to my books and blog and hopefully, I won’t regret that. Don’t really see how I could. In some ways, she kind of reminds me of Ellie but since I haven’t heard any crazy shit about the FBI spying on her by putting petroleum jelly in her vents, I’m not worried. She’s with it. Just pesky.

I think I have thrush developing again in my mouth since it’s been a while since I’ve had yogurt. Gargling with salt water and will definitely get some yogurt from Sam’s. Instead of Saturday, though, he’s going on Friday after work because they’re having a big sale on Saturday which will be too crowded at our usual time.

Since I’ll be up early in the morning this weekend, I’ll want to go to the park again.

I had “tropical” dreams but they made no sense and I don’t know where they were or if we were living there or vacationing there. A guy was swimming naked in a glass pool that was submerged in the ocean in one of them. Not just any guy either. You could tell he was a model or something like that. We must’ve been in a plane or helicopter because we flew over it, and looking straight down into the pool, I could see the sandbar underneath the glass bottom. Probably just spam dreams or another dimension. ;)

Aly passed my grammar “test” with flying colors. She’s dealing with health issues again but this time it’s on Cam, not her. He has spinal stenosis and collapsed at work with tingling and numbness in his lower back and hips. Then he was admitted to the hospital and had to have laser surgery to repair damaged nerves. If he doesn’t take it easy he may never walk again. Damn, and he’s barely pushing 40.

[zero-insignificance]

DND Recap: The Beach Episode part 1

Cast consists of Rose the DM, Alfie (yours truly), Truk, Patrick, Rayna, and Quinn.

We open up in the streets of Finkelberg.

The party had a fun night full of drink and food and company and are ready for the next step in their journey.

Brick appears and starts talking to Truk. Brick: how many people walked in on you? Truk: 14. They are dead now. Brick: What are their names? Truk: I did not get their names. Brick: *starts rummaging through Truk's mind* Truk: *grimaces* Brick: *finds the memory* their souls shall be erased from existence.

Bob approaches the party hesitantly.

Bob: You will not be here for long, will you? You finished your quest. Alfie: Surprisingly no. Bob: Where will you go? Alfie: Hell. I can apparently rescue my bio parents. Patrick: You have parents?! You didn't just spawn in? Alfie: Yeah. I got two sets. Bio parents and adoptive dads. My adoptive dad is technically my uncle, but I call him Dad anyways. Bob: *turns to Patrick* Our deal is done. You helped him on his quest. I have something for you.

Bob pulls out a 2-liter bottle of Baja Blast. It has a bunch of marbles in it that are floating around. "Don't take them all at once. Your mind will explode. Take one per day."

Bob has his back to Alfie.

Me: Alfie decides to start having fun with his physical form. Rose: I swear if you turn into a cow Me: Alfie would never. He's not evil anymore. As an eldritch entity he can change his false body at will and where once was a redheaded white bird folk with mottled black feathers and scales now stands a freckled human with blood red hair, black eyes, with black splotches across his pale skin. Bob turns around and screams. "WHAT THE FUCK." and Bob shouts at him to turn back. Alfie as a human is too much for Bob to handle. Alfie turns back into his bird form and laughs harder.

Alfie: You should've seen the look on your face. Bob: NEVER CHANGE AGAIN. Patrick: *pops a memory marble in his mouth* Holy shit. I'M ALLERGIC TO EGGS. Bob: *a bit annoyed* Anyways I think it is about time that you all have a chance to relax! There are several beaches in the fey wilds. *turns and starts walking away* Alfie: *confused* where are you going? Bob: to the beach. I ran out of smoke bombs. Alfie: I haven't relaxed in over 10 years. Truk: I suppose it would be nice to relax. Brick: I would recommend you wait before heading that way. Alfie: *concerned* why would you say that? Brick: It's... his choice of swimwear. Alfie: Is it an ugly pattern? Brick: *silence* Alfie: *snaps his fingers so he's now in beach attire* Let's go! Patrick: *starts heading in the direction Bob went*

Rose: In a clearing you see Bob. He's in a speedo. Truk: *mortified* Patrick: *also mortified* Alfie: *eyes Bob up and down* Oh dear. That is not your color. Bob: Really? Alfie: Yeah. You should dress in jewel tones. Bob: *uses chaos magic to summon a wardrobe and starts rummaging through it* Alfie: *also starts rummaging through the wardrobe* At some point Bob is in a mankini and Alfie finds a pair of patterned swim trunks and holds them up to Bob's chest and nods Alfie: These ones.

The party actually looks around and sees no beach but a bathtub. And Bob is gone.

"I don't know about you guys, but this isn't a beach."

An old man appears and is like "Oh you're almost there!" and Alfie draws his sword and starts going "stranger danger stranger danger stranger danger-" And the old man walks up to the tub and hops into it and slowly sinks. Alfie and Truk slowly approach the tub and peak into it. There is nobody in it and it seems bottomless.

Alfie tosses a glowing rock into the tub. Truk puts the tip of his newly acquired great sword into the tub and it starts being sucked in. Alfie and Patrick grab onto Truk and pull him away. The great sword is sucked down into the depths. Truk realizes this and swan dives after it.

Brick appears and menacingly says "You better be going after my son."

Alfie is perched on the lip of the tub. Patrick refuses and he feels a hand start to squeeze his brain. He is pulled up by the back off his neck and is dragged to the tub. He's dropped in an immediately starfishes.

"FUCK WHY ARE THE SIDES OF THE TUB SO SLIPPERY?"

And Alfie just gives Patrick a look of sympathy before lightly pressing a single finger on the middle of his chest sending Patrick down into the depths.

Alfie glances at Brick and gives him a look of "I'll make sure they don't kill themselves" and jumps into the tub.

The party comes to on the beach from Attack on Titan. Truk immediately gets up and starts looking for his great sword. Alfie finds the glowing rock he threw in and pockets it. Truk demands that we help him find the great sword and Patrick doesn't know what it looks like and Truk hasn't had it long enough to solidify it in his memory and they start bickering.

Meanwhile Alfie is perched on the hilt of Rahdan's Great Sword and is waiting for a break in the argument.

Patrick lifts up the great sword with Alfie still on it and hands it to Truk asking if this is the great sword he was looking for. Alfie lets go and slowly floats back to the ground.

Looking around we see Bob who is under a very large umbrella, and we head over to him. He's wearing the swim trunks that Alfie selected.

Alfie questions if anyone would like some cocktails or mocktails. Patrick pulls out a Stanley cup full of coffee. Truk is intrigued by mocktails and asks for one. Alfie questions him about his favorite juices and Truk's favorite juice is apple juice. Alfie makes him an Appletini Mocktail and hands it to him. He isn't a fan so Alfie pulls out a gallon bottle of Motts apple juice.

Truk grabs it and takes a swig. "Do you want a bendy straw?" Truk nods and Alfie hands him a bendy straw. "Oh, so you're a bartender?" questions Bob. "I worked as a barista and bartender for a few summers." "Oh really? Can I get a tequila sunrise with baja blast instead of orange juice?" "Of course!" and Alfie pulls out a bunch of bartending tricks, and in a flourish of motions he hands Bob what he requested. The glass is frosted with a wedge of lime and several grapes on a toothpick. Bob downs it in one second. "Damn, that's pretty good."

Alfie: Hang on does anyone have any allergies i should know of? Patrick: Eggs. Truk: *nursing the bottle of apple juice* no. Bob: Yes. I'm allergic to bullshit. Patrick: *smirks* THE MOON LANDING WAS FAKE. Bob: *immediately busts into hives*

A scream comes from the sky, and we all look up and see Rayna falling. The Bartending equipment that Alfie was holding dematerializes and he catches her.

Rayna: Where are we? Alfie: The beach. It's the beach episode. Bob: Now go on! Have fun enjoy the water but watch out for the sea monster. Truk: What. Alfie: *freezes* God fuckin damn it. Bob: There's a sea monster. Alfie: *falls backwards into the sand and screams* Truk: Why not close off this section of the beach. Alfie: I can't catch a break. I can't catch a fucking break. I CAN NEVER CATCH A BREAK. Bob: They had to expand. Alfie: *downs two strawberry daiquiris* Patrick: Have you tried building a wall? Bob: Someone tried building a wall once. Alfie: By any chance was that guy orange with shitty yellow hair and reeked of narcissism? Bob: Yes. Alfie: Ugh. I can't stand that guy. Bob: Nor can I.

The beast in the depths is a Kraken. Truk and Rayna want to try to fight it. Truk wants to try diplomacy first. Alfie sits up and thinks to himself "If they're going then I'm going, or they'll get themselves killed."

At one point Bob laughs. Alfie: Can you please stop being so ominous? Bob: Unfortunately, no. It's in my code.

Another scream comes from the sky and down comes Quinn. Alfie slows her descent with a wave of his hand.

A decent chunk of the party speaks languages that the Kraken can understand, except for Quinn and Patrick. Quinn has speak with animals and beasts so she's good. Alfie knows primordial (eldritch entity). Rayna knows celestial and infernal (mother of titans). Truk knows primordial and celestial (son of brick).

Overall, the party wants to prevent a whole bunch of deaths. Alfie is so tired right now, but he'll go with whatever the party does. Bob parts the sea and there is a stone path leading to a cave.

Me: Where's Paul? Rose: You hear a loud mooooooOOOOOOOO coming from the sky Alfie: *immediately stops Paul's fall and gently sets Paul down with eldritch magic* Bob: *side eyes Paul* Truk: *starts walking down the path* Alfie: Ok Paul do you want to go with the party or stay here on the beach. Paul: Moo *goes over to Bob's warlock robes and starts chewing on them*

Back with Truk "Who approaches my abode." "I am here to talk."

Through the conversation there was a brief misunderstanding because of Alfie where the Kraken thought we were here to kill them, but Truk sorted it out and offers the Kraken friendship cuz he may not have been there during most of the mlp arc but he knows that friendship is magic.

The Kraken put together that we are a quite powerful group of adventurers. The Kraken has true sight so he can see Alfie's form for what it really is. A hulking form larger than the Kraken itself. Vaguely avian with a grey beak, covered in what looks like black feathers that absorb light itself, with many many bright glowing white eyes and the numerous sets of wings span out and the fabric of reality bends around his form itself.

These eyes are fixed on the Kraken. They're intense, angry, yet calm and very tired.

He agrees to Truk's offer on one condition.

We all have to spar with him at once.

A grin spread across Truk's face and he asks a singular question, "Prep time?"

Spell casters buff the tanks, Rayna summons a fey to fight with her and we're ready to go.

The Kraken goes first and goes for Patrick instantly, the fey jumps in front of him and is grappled by a tentacle. Truk is also grappled.

Patrick sends off a Guiding Bolt and Alfie follows up with a well-placed Fire Bolt. Alfie looks like he just wants to take a nap. A bed appears behind him, and he sits down on it pulling out an apple and eating it. Bob appears next to Alfie and he and Alfie start chatting as they watch the spectacle Alfie stepping in when needed.

The Kraken pulls Truk close and asks him which party member is his favorite. "I don't have a favorite." "Just pick one." "Rayna."

The Kraken chucks Truk at Rayna, she tries to catch him, and she fails.

Bob and Alfie cringe at that.

Quinn has been stealthing around doing rogue and ranger stuff.

A storm cloud appears over three party members. Rayna, Truk, and Alfie.

Alfie groans and says "Wonderful. This is the perfect mirror of my mental state." and we each make a dexterity saving throw. Rayna and Alfie take 19 points of damage and Truk takes 38 as lightning strikes us.

The soot on Alfie's feathers vanishes "Yep. It's jambalaya time." and Alfie summons a bowl of delicious jambalaya and turns to look at Bob. "You want some?" "Absolutely" and Alfie materializes a second bowl and hands it to Bob with a spoon.

Alfie is about to send off a Mind Spike but freezes and goes "Hold up hang on once second call time call time. We've just been calling you Kraken or the Kraken and that seems a bit disrespectful. Is there a name we can call you?"

The Kraken seems a bit surprised but the party nods in agreement.

Kraken: You can call me Mordecai. Patrick: Do you have a friend that's a raccoon? Rose: a raccoon steps out from behind Mordecai and goes "WOOOOOOOOOOH" Alfie: *has seen the Twilight and Mordecai shooting stars meme* by any chance do you know a Twilight Sparkle? Mordecai: No, I do not. Rayna: Who the hell is Twilight Sparkle? Alfie: *shifts into twilight sparkle* Oh she looks like this. She was the pony I was talking to in Ponyville. *turns back into his bird form*

And the fight continues.

Rayna gets two hits on Mordecai.

Me: Alfie sends off a mind spike. Rose: Are you going to use that on Bob? Me: No. I'm using it on Mordecai. The image of a duck with human ears appears in his mind. Mordecai: Ugh ew no why would you do that? What are you on that made you think that? Alfie: Autism. Bob: *laughs* Alfie: What's that for? Bob: He might die soon. Alfie: HEY MORDECAI! ARE YOU TRYING TO DIE? Rose: You guys are kicking his ass right now. Mordecai: That was exhilarating. Thanks for the sparring match.

The party goes to leave but Truk stays behind. Mordecai has something to tell him about the great sword he's holding. It's cursed. If he uses it too much the line between friend and foe may fade.

Bob: Can you please tell Paul to stop eating my clothes? Alfie: Paul can you not? Paul: MOOooooo *stops eating Bob's clothes* Alfie: Hey Bob, can I braid your hair? Bob: *surprised* Uh sure. No french braids please I don't like the way they feel. Patrick: Give him a french braid! Alfie: *starts braiding Bob's hair* I'm not giving him a french braid. He specifically requested me not to give him a french braid.

Alfie and Patrick both would like to learn Celestial and Rayna and Truk decide to teach them. Rayna spends her time filling them in on pronunciations and Truk just puts a hand on each of their heads. He essentially gaslights both of them into knowing how to understand and speak Celestial. It's like they always knew how. During this process Truk gets a visual of what it's like in each of their minds and his face is a mix of emotions. Confusion and fear. "Next time ask me before you touch me." says Alfie. Truk says nothing before looking to Patrick and telling him that his brain is weird having been a vast expanse of nothing with a large safe in the middle and turns back to Alfie and says "What the fuck." Alfie's brain is complete traumatized autistic adhd chaos. "It's the trauma. You know the death, the loss, the grief, the addictions-" "I am too young for this." And the party spends a moment relaxing on the beach with drinks and snacks. Bob shifts and Alfie scolds him saying that he isn't done yet and he affixes some flowers into Bob's hair and pulls out two mirrors. One handheld and a vanity mirror.

"Oh, that is quite lovely!" Alfie smiles at the compliment and music reaches the party. It's circus music. Alfie freezes and mutters under his breath that this really is like Katastrophe as he slowly turns to look at the source of the sound. On the other side of the beach is a circus.

"Please tell me they do proper maintenance and checkups on their equipment." "Of course they do." "Thank the gods."

Truk's eyes light up and he goes running to the circus. Rayna chases after him and Patrick slinkies along.

Alfie laughs at their antics feeling more at ease and snaps his fingers appearing at the carnival before everyone else with a toothy grin on his face. "I'm about to win some rigged games."

Rose: Truk you see a game that is right up your alley. Whack-a-Mole. The high score is 2 million. It was done by Bob. It's bring your own club. Truk: I'm breaking that record. *pulls out great club* Rose: You DESTROY the whack-a-mole stand. Your score is 48 billion. Me: How does Bob react to that? Rose: a single tear rolls down his cheek. Alfie: *gives him a pat on the back* Carnival worker: CONGRATULATIONS YOU BROKE THE RECORD AND FOR THAT YOU WIN THE GRAND PRIZE! Rose: the carnival worker brings out a massive teddy bear. It is 6 times your size. Truk: *clutches onto the teddy bear and cries* Truk has not had a toy in a very long time and this teddy bear looks like the one he had when he was five before his parents died. Me: Alfie is looking for a punching bag game. Rose: You see a punching bag game. Alfie: You're going to need a new one when I'm done with it. Carnival Worker: I'm sorry but Eldritch Entities are not allowed to use the punching bag. Stay away from the punching bag. Alfie: Why not? Carnival Worker: The last time that happened he launched the punching bag into the stratosphere. Rose: the carnival worker points to the ban list, and you see a photo of your great grandfather as the only one banned from this game. Alfie: Damn, we really are related. Rayna: can I try? Carnival worker: Of course. Rayna: *destroys the punching bag launching it into the sea* Carnival worker: *takes Rayna's photo and adds it to the ban list* Rayna: It's one of the perks of being the Mother of Titans. Rose: Patrick. Alfie. You see a ring toss booth. Me: we go to the ring toss booth.

The ring toss booth worker is Lucifer from Hazbin Hotel.

Patrick: What are the rules to this. Lucifer: You pay, and you get 6 rings. You have six attempts to get a ring on the red bottle. Patrick: What do we pay? Lucifer: You'll pay eventually. Alfie: Can you elaborate on that? Lucifer: You'll pay eventually! Alfie: *eldritch magic flashes in his eyes* Explain. Now. Lucifer: At some point in the future something of yours will vanish as payment. Alfie: *gets a premonition of his favorite woodworking knife vanishing from his hand in the middle of a project* I'm too autistic for that. Patrick: I'm in. Lucifer: *slides over 6 rings* Patrick: What's that over there? *pointing in the distance* Lucifer: *looks where Patrick is pointing* What is it? Patrick: *stretches his arm out and plops a ring on the red bottle* Lucifer: You won... You own my soul now. Patrick: ALFIE! What do I do with a soul? Alfie: Why do you think I know? I've never owned a soul before. I just got mine back a day ago. Patrick: I don't know? What's the protocol for this? Alfie: Bob? You've owned souls before. Wuh- what do you do with a soul? Bob: You quite literally own them and the person it belongs to. You could put the soul in an inanimate object like that bear Truk has. Truk: *approaches the party with a tear-stained face* I won this. Alfie: *to Truk* That's awesome! Patrick: Just give me your soul, I guess? Rose: He hands his soul over to you. It looks like a rubber duck. The party: Oh no... Rose: Patrick you now own Lucifer's soul.

Rayna looks for a shooting game and finds one. She shoots the furthest target, it explodes in a shower of splinters, and she keeps the gun as her prize.

Finally, Alfie spots one of his favorite carnival games.

Ski Ball

And Alfie is a beast at ski ball.

The high score is 2 billion.

Alfie: Bob is that your record? Bob: Please no it's all I have left. Rayna: Those were your only records? Bob: Well, there's my darts record but that isn't as impressive. 500. The people in Finkelberg suck at darts.

Alfie smirks "Bob, I challenge you to a game of ski ball. If you win your record stays intact. If I win, I get bragging rights for all eternity. Do we have a deal?" and he holds out a hand. "We have a deal."

We decide who wins over a game of highest roll. On the first roll we tie. Double twenties. We need a tie breaker. me: *rerolls and starts laughing* the dice really wanted me to break his record. *more laughter* I got another nat 20. Rose: Bob rolled a 17. His high score is crushed. Bob: *looking dejected* Me: Alfie smiles and casts minor illusion on the score board so it looks like his record remains unbroken. Bob: Thank you, my friend. Alfie: You've got to stop saying that to me- wait you just called me your friend? Bob: *nods*

A friendship bracelet appears on Bob's wrist. "When did you make a friendship bracelet- it's purple?" "Of course it is!" "You... know my favorite color?"

Quinn questions why they don't have a friendship bracelet.

A friendship bracelet leaps out of Alfie's bag of holding and coils itself around Quinn's wrist.

Patrick runs because he doesn't know what's happening.

And from a lone circus tent floats a single red balloon. Patrick grabs it cuz "oh shiny" and out comes Pennywise. "Do you want to float?"

Alfie: way ahead of you *starts floating*

[gotwcird]

it's funny how many things star has learned about herself just within this first hour of having sex with nico. it's a small realization she has when she moans again because he pulls on her hair, makes her shiver with a pleasure she's quickly enjoying more of. uses it to egg on her sloppy movements, to chase the bits of friction she can reach against the blanket between her legs. ( barely computes the hand he places against her heart, going rabbit-like in how it's beating. ) other things she's learned: she can cum very hard, she likes when he fucks her rough, and apparently she enjoys giving blowjobs. that the feeling of him jerking his hips up high, breaching deeper into her throat, is making her impossibly wet and needy. that when she gags softly around him, she's also clenching, wriggling her hips to chase any kind of relief.

her saliva that's coating him is viscous, slick and new to her, plus makes things easier too. she's bobbing her head quick around him, sucking hard and trying to remember how to breathe. would be curious about the newness of it if she wasn't buzzed from his cock and the way he's cursing out her name. feels like she's reached sainthood and become a demon at the same time because of how he's reacting to her. he's so loud, so reactive. so unlike his usual restricted movements that her eyes don't want to blink. she wants to drink every sound and reaction from him. is enjoying how he's tugging on her, pushing and pulling and bringing him deeper into her warmth that she doesn't realize he's cumming until the heat of his seed hits the back of her throat. her eyes widen — excited, surprised, needy — as she takes all of him. suctions her mouth to make sure none of it escapes as she swallows him down, feels his cock twitch and writhe in her mouth while he pushes her. byeol complies too, even if she needs to take deep breaths.

she pulls her mouth up from his length slowly, makes sure she's swallowed everything as she reaches his tip below letting his softening dick go with a pop of her mouth. can't even deny at this point that she liked that. liked his taste and how it overtook all her senses for a bit — clean with a little edge and somehow still pleasant. star is looking up at him eagerly, heart jumping giddily when he speaks again. "really?" it's slightly ridiculous how that statement pleases her. how she, with her limited and rusty skills, could make him feel so good that he's still reeling from it. that she had enough of an effect on him that he has been moaning out her name in unbridled ecstasy and relief. ( all of which she'll probably think to again and again, will probably rub herself raw to the memory. )

"was it good?" she asks a little clumsily, part of the words breathed softly as she crawls up from her position. his confession is enough, but she wants to hear him say more. praise her again and again, sate that selfish little thing in her chest that's come out to play in full force since her first orgasm. she lays on top of nico, revels in the heat that he's emanating. "did you feel good?" breathes the words onto his lips as her hands go up to run through his hair. kisses him tenderly, maybe even a little chaste, wants to let him pull her deeper if he desires. notices that in the moment too: that she likes when he pushes, when he takes what he wants from her. that he could do whatever to her, use her however he pleases, and she'd still say thank you. "you taste really nice."

THE MOAN SHE LETS OUT when he pulls her hair . . he notes that . he wants that . he never thought she'd even like the idea of hair pulling or the aspect of anything rough and now it's becoming more clear to him that he couldn't have been more wrong . he bookmarks it . locks it in his brain . reminds himself to talk to her about it later and ask her everything everything everything . he uses her moan as an allowance and tugs her hair back again , with more care this time though . CAUTIOUS .

NICO NOTES THE WAY SHE MOVES . his eyes zero in on her , past her mouth , to see the way her hips move and oh god . yeah . yes . he's going to spend a lot of time there later . he's going to do anything she wants . he's going to bury his head between her legs and devour her , if she'll let him . his hand slides from her cheek down , down , down . past her neck . to her chest . open palm he slides it against her sternum , feeling her erratic heartbeat there . " do that again . " he lets out, voice raspy . his eyes aren't talking about her on his cock anymore . rather the opposite . no he's looking at HER . at the way she tries to pleasure herself . at the way she sounds and looks when she's squirming in desire . he could watch her do just that all night if she let him .

his entire body is a hot coil . he's twisting and turning , gasps leaving his mouth unceremoniously now , building higher and higher . it's unrestrained , almost animalistic of him as he jerks his hips up again , sliding his cock deeper into her mouth . SHE FEELS SO GOOD . SO GOOD . SO GOOD . he pants desperately , his entire body flexing and unflexing . when she slides back , he watches her with earnest and passion . then . . . " ohmyfuckinggod. STAR . " he wants to repeat her name on and on , repeat it until she realises what she's done to him . he wants to thrust more and more . he wants to bury his cock in her . he wants to keep going . . . he doesn't know how he'll ever stop now that he knows what the inside of her and her mouth feels like . all pink and soft and warm and " fucking hell . " if possible she looks even better as she sucks on the tip of him . he lets out a groan so loud and unrestrained that he knows he'd be embarrassed in any other situation . his hands cling to her hair , gripping at her . pulling . tugging . pushing . giving and taking . he nods insistently as she whispers those sweet words , asking for him to cum and it sounds so magical and sweet from her lips . it sounds so good that he -

he feels himself tip over . he twitches and jerks and suddenly heat washes over him in waves and waves , as if trying to drown him . he isn't sure what he says . he isn't sure what he even sounds like . only that he's calling out her name , saying yes over and again , murmuring that he's orgasming . that he's cumming . and he does . he does . he feels himself empty inside of her mouth and he doesn't have the capacity to feel as bad as he probably should . his hips twist up and up , at the same time his hands gently push , because he feels so beyond sensitive and raw . nico can feel a sheen of sweat on him , twisting in her sheets . he exhales long and slow and reopens his eyes to look down at her , still between his legs . so close to his now softening cock . " i - i don't think i've ever cum that hard in my life . " he lets out , voice weak.