#Damn it was so hard to find a gloves pic…

[lieutenant-amuel]

Gray skies will chase the light away

No longer

I fought the fight, now only dark remains

Forever

Divided, I will stand

And I will let this end

~Breaking Benjamin, Angels Fall

[spilledbeans116]

Hey, I'm sending you an inspiration pic. Whatever idea or feeling you get from the picture can serve as the basis for a fic or a short or just a drabble. Enjoy!

Sorry it took a bit! Finals and what not keep me busy, you know? Anyways, before we get into it, I want to thank you for being my first ever request! When I saw the ask I got so happy I genuinely squealed and spooked my sister LOL.

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The Plan - Vegeta x Reader - 3,599 Words

Reader's gender not specified - No use of Y/N - SFW

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    The dirt was cold beneath your skin, your cheeks pressed against it as you groaned in pain. Being volleyed into the ground like a bouncy ball by the saiyan prince certainly wasn’t pleasant; you almost didn’t want to get back up and face him, especially after that embarrassing display you had just put on.

    “You’re not very good at this,” Vegeta quipped, landing beside you and grabbing you by the hem of your shirt. He placed you back on your feet, looking you over with a bored expression. He was in his typical attire: white chest plate with matching boots and gloves slipped on over that damn blue body-suit. You could see his muscles clearly, which no doubt kept you distracted on top of everything else. You had been wanting him to train with you for weeks now, wanting to show off the new technique that Goku had taught you. However, that seemed to be backfiring as you continued to fail to even find an opening for it.

     “I’m rusty, sue me,” you shrugged with a smirk. He simply rolled his eyes, scoffing in the process. 

     “You were the one to agree to this! If you weren’t prepared, why bother!”

    You flinched at his tone before turning away from him. The truth was you thought you had been prepared. Your little crush on the saiyan prince had left you splashing about in the deep end, and Goku said that asking to train with him was exactly what you needed to “loosen up.” It was hard to say no to that big puppy dog, especially when he was so excited to help out after hearing about your plight. 

     “Come on! I’ll even spar with you to help you get ready!” He whined, those gentle eyes of his leaving you defenseless. “Please please please let me help! Please!” That last please was what had gotten you. You trained with Goku for about a month, perfecting his technique and holding your own against the saiyan during your matches. It was when he decided you were ready that he started to sprinkle in the idea of sparring with you to Vegeta. Little spouts of compliments, noting how you were stronger than he thought and how it was really fun practicing with you. 

    You didn’t think it was going to work, but you were surprised when Vegeta approached you at one of Chi-Chi’s cookouts.

     “Kakarot won’t shut up about you,” he had grunted, taking a swig of his beer and leaning against the railing behind you. You couldn’t meet his gaze, glancing down at your own drink.

    “Yeah, we’ve been practicing a lot lately,” you replied casually, trying not to stumble over your words. Whenever he got close it was as if it became harder to think; harder to breathe. This had been when you started to second guess Goku’s plan. You shot him a glance across the way when and he flashed that sunshine smile of his, giving you a quick thumbs up before continuing to stuff his face.

     “If you want a real challenge you should train with me.” Vegeta scoffed, glancing over at you. You felt like you were going to melt.

     “Sounds good to me,” you smiled. “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you!”

     Now here you were, getting your ass handed to you in his base form. You could handle Goku powered up to super saiyan, hell you could dodge his throws when he leveled up to SS2, but with Vegeta it was as if it all went out the window and you were back in your first fighting lesson. Being so close to him you could smell him, hear his grunts and sharp inhales as he moved around. It was eating you alive.

     “I’m just warming up! That’s all,” you offered instead, brushing yourself off. You wiped your brow and shook out your hands to expel your nerves. “I’m ready now, I swear.”

     “Good. I was just warming up as well,” he smirked, floating back up into the sky with his arms crossed. You followed him up, staying eye level with him the whole time. “Now the fight truly begins.”

***

    After the first few punches it had been clear he was serious. You weaved between his throws quickly, barely dodging as he swept his leg out and went to kick you back. You grabbed his leg, spinning him quickly in a circle before launching him off to your left. In the blink of an eye he was on your right, and you blocked your head with your arm as he threw another punch.

     “Tch, as if that would do anything!” He yelled, finally landing a hit in your gut. You gasped for air, clutching your stomach as you curled up slightly from the impact. He seemed to falter for a second but it felt as if you had hallucinated it as he launched his foot into your chest, sending you flying backwards.

    Suddenly your flight was stopped as he was behind you, sending you careening towards the ground as his boot met your spine. You stopped yourself in mid-air suddenly, flipping around to shoot out your arms and launch a handful of brightly colored ki blasts at where you would have landed. Dust was thrown up, creating a smokescreen of sorts as you regained your composure and landed softly on the dirt floor. You looked around for the prince to no avail, your attack having coated you and your vision in smoke.

    You shut your eyes tight, waiting for his power to surge as he went to attack you. You felt a tingling feeling from above you and stepped aside as Vegeta planted his foot right where your body had been. You swung quickly, feeling your fist connect with his chest as he staggered back. You swung, left then right then left again, each blow connecting with his face, cheek, then gut. He inhaled sharply, ducking as you swung at his head again. 

    He spun, his foot sweeping your legs out from under you as you fell on your ass. You smirked as you attempted to return the favor, spinning on your back to kick his legs out from under him. He jumped, landing back on the floor right as you pushed yourself up, kicking him straight in the stomach instead. Sweat clouded your forehead and ran down your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as the prince grabbed onto your ankle. He lifted you above his head quickly, using the momentum to slam your body back onto the floor behind him.

    You cried out in pain, spittle flying from your mouth as your vision flashed hot and white. His grip on your ankle loosened for a moment before tightening once more; he grit his teeth as you lifted back up and spun around like a top, the wind whipping past you and cooling your skin. You began to feel nauseous from how fast you were going before he let go, launching you a good distance from him.

     Your body hit the ground and continued to roll, sending up a dust cloud in your wake. After three or four tumbles you sprang up, digging your heels into the dirt and leaving behind skid marks. You wiped your mouth on your arm, spitting out blood as you stared at the prince.

    “Had enough?” He huffed, crossing his arms once more. “I’m getting tired of this.”

    You took your fighting stance, shaking your head. “No! I still haven’t shown you what I can do!”

    He sighed at that, rolling his eyes as he began to float up, “let’s get this over with then,” he grunted, eyes running over your bruised form. Your glances met for a moment and a moment only before he tore his eyes away, unable to hold your gaze as you looked at him with such determination.

    You certainly didn’t feel determined right now as you studied his own features. He was dirty, same as you, but other than that seemingly untouched. He tilted his body in the air, moving his arms to the right of him and bending his one leg at the knee. You felt your heart race as he placed the palm of his left hand over the back of his right, curling his fingers in the process.

    You knew his moves well, and were very aware of how powerful his next attack would be. You started to build your energy, feeling it ripple and crackle around you as the dirt below your feet shook, pebbles rising slightly from the disruption of energy. 

    You grew annoyed with yourself, Goku, and him. Why had Goku been so incessant on helping you with this? You realized he didn’t know a damn thing about romance and sure, his intentions had been good, but now you were just making a fool of yourself in front of the prince. It was obvious you were merely a toy for him, the look on Vegeta’s face not at all concerned. His brows were furrowed, but what else was new? For the most part he seemed relaxed, not even bothering to power up fully. That is what pushed you to keep pulling as he began his attack.

    “GALICK!” He shouted, a purple aura slowly enveloping him. You braced yourself, feeling the energy bud beneath your fingertips as you prepared to release your own counter attack. “GUN!” At his shout, a powerful laser shot from his hands, quickly being met with a blast and yell of your own.

    The colors clashed and sent sparks around the both of you as you fought to maintain it, the force of the attack startling Vegeta slightly. He hadn’t prepared properly for it to be as strong as it was and found his hold on it slipping. “OH NO YOU DON’T!” He screamed, powering up to super saiyan as a wave went through his attack. You watched as the purple beam began to envelop your own before you widened your stance slightly. You grit your teeth, unsure of if you should push yourself during this and if your body would be able to take it. You decided that it was worth it; you could vent your frustrations with this idiotic plan while the opportunity was presented to you. All of those days spent training, for what? To not even be taken seriously?

     “KAIOKEN!” You yelled, feeling your power surge.

     “Not again!” Vegeta grunted, sending another surge of power through his beam. They seemed to be stuck at a halfway point before the ground around you began to crack and split, your energy leaving a crater around you.

     “TIMES… TEN!” Your body glowed red and you cried out at the strain on your muscles as you forced the energy to be expelled from your body. You ki widened, beginning to steadily break through his before he rolled out of the way at the last second, your beam launching out beside him and into the sky as he watched with wide eyes. You sank deeper into the Earth, tears welling in your eyes as it felt as though your body was being torn apart; you had perfected five, but nothing above that had even been explored. 

    You cut the attack off, your arms falling weakly at your sides as your power receded. 

    “THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!” Vegeta screamed, marching over to you, golden form glowing before your eyes. Your vision was blurry, but even then his bright blue eyes stuck out against the world around you. He was beautiful like this, as bright as a star in the night. “YOU WERE TRYING TO KILL ME!”

    You smirked weakly, a laugh bubbling in the back of your throat as your body swayed. “I won.” As your legs gave out along with your consciousness, Vegeta was quick to catch you before you could hit the floor. He shifted you in his arms, his left hand supporting the base of your neck while the other held your legs.

    “You idiot,” he frowned, shooting off back to Bulma’s.

***

    You groaned as you came to, your head swimming as you sat up slowly. You went to lift your hand to your forehead to provide some sort of pressure against the ache but instead found yourself hissing as your arm shifted. You looked down at it, wrapped in bandages like a mummy. 

    “Settle down, you’re fine.” Vegeta huffed. Your eyes shot up, finding him leaning against the doorframe of the room you were in. It was decorated plainly, with dark dressers, cabinets, and hardwood floors. There were no photographs or decorations, just a small desk with a navy blue journal and a white lamp sitting on it. The bed you were in had dark blue sheets, soft and silky beneath your skin.

     “Where am I?” You croaked, your entire body aching as you spoke.

    “My room,” he replied plainly, causing your face to heat up. He didn’t notice, walking over to the desk and grabbing the journal carefully before shoving it into one of the drawers.

    “Why?”

    Vegeta rolled his eyes and scoffed as if you had asked the dumbest question in the entire world. “You passed out. I very well wasn’t going to leave you there.”

     “Why not a hospital? Bulma’s medical ward?” 

    He frowned, “Bulma isn’t here and a hospital wouldn’t know what to do with you like this.” He pulled out the rolling-chair by his desk, sitting in it and resting his arms on his legs. He leaned forward to stare at you, clasping his hands in front of his face. “Why the hell did you do that?”

     “Do what?”

     “Push yourself that far. It was clear you weren’t ready.”

     You scoffed, rolling your eyes and pouting, “whatever. I wouldn’t have known unless I tried. Besides, I’m still alive aren’t I?”

    “You could have killed yourself!”

    “I know my own limits!” You snapped, attempting to sit up. You cried out before Vegeta placed a hand on your chest and pushed you back down.

    “Stop moving. Your body needs rest.”

    You gave a chuckle at that before wincing. “That’s ironic coming from you, Mr. Broken Ribs.”

    You were surprised to see a smirk tug at his lips before it quickly disappeared. “See? I know what I’m talking about then. Wait here.”

    He got up, walking out of the room and leaving you alone with your thoughts for the time being. You became acutely aware of how much his bed smelled like him. You resisted the urge to pull the blankets up to your face and bury your head in them. Why had he taken you here? Surely Bulma had spare bedrooms that were free, it wasn’t as if her house was filled with people at the moment. 

    Vegeta returned a few minutes later; he had a small tray in his hands, with a bowl and a bottle of water resting on it precariously. He walked over to you, boots clacking against the wooden floor before he set it on your lap.

    “Here. You need to stay hydrated and I wouldn’t doubt you’re probably starving.”

    You went to tell him you weren’t, but the comedic timing of your growling stomach shut you up quickly. Instead, you said, “the prince of all saiyans made me soup? It’s an honor.”

    He blushed slightly, his ears heating up before he glanced away and crossed his arms again. “Oh whatever. Don’t start or I’ll eat the damn food myself.”

    You grunted as you picked up the spoon and raised it to your lips, blowing on it carefully before drinking the broth. You smiled as the warm liquid ran down your throat, relaxing your body a bit as you dipped the spoon back down for more. “How’d you know this is my favorite? Or was it just a lucky guess?”

    Vegeta visibly stiffened, his hands twitching at his sides as he thought of how to answer. “Does it matter?”

    “No, I guess not. Just happy is all.” You looked up at him, flashing him a genuine smile. “Thank you, Vegeta.”

     He went silent, sitting back in the chair and crossing his legs. He gripped the edge of the chair tightly as he mumbled under his breath, “Kakarot told me it was your favorite.”

    “What was that?” You asked, popping the spoon in your mouth and crying out, dropping it quickly as he hopped up.

    “What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself? Your wrist?” He grabbed your arm quickly yet carefully, turning it over so he could study your open palm and wrist. His eyes ran over your skin, scanning for any signs of strain or damage.

     “I burned my mouth,” you whined. “It’s really hot.”

     “YOU IDIOT!” He snapped, dropping your hand. It bounced against the bed slightly. “OF COURSE IT’S HOT!”

     “YOU DISTRACTED ME!”

     “TCH! DON’T BLAME ME FOR YOUR OWN REDUNDANCY!”

    You frowned, picking up the spoon and setting it back in the bowl. After a bit of silence the bowl was empty, and you went to pick up the water. Vegeta snatched it quickly, opening it for you before setting it back on the tray. You raised an eyebrow at him as he glared at you.

     “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Vegeta. You don’t have to baby me.”

     “I’m the reason you ended up like this,” he frowned. “I’m merely making up for my own transgressions. Nothing else.”

     “You don’t take care of Goku after you mess him up,” you teased as you took a sip from the bottle. Vegeta stayed silent once more, unable to deny your point but unwilling to explain himself. You chose not to push him, changing the subject instead. “How long was I out for?”

    “Three days.” He replied plainly. You, on the other hand, began to panic.

     “THREE DAYS?” You ran your hands over your head, eyes wide as you began to panic. “I WAS OUT FOR THREE DAYS? BUT-“

    “I took care of everything.” He grunted, leaning back and staring at the drawer he had placed his journal in. 

    “What-“

    “You didn’t miss anything and I checked in on your things.”

     You blinked at him, “oh. Well thank you.” You were surprised he paid that much attention to you. You could have sworn that sometimes he couldn’t even remember your name let alone all the things you had to take care of in your life.

     “You’re welcome. I won’t be so kind next time, so don’t let this happen again.”

     “Next time?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

     He simply nodded, “it’s obvious Kakarot isn’t training you properly even though you have plenty of untapped potential. From now on I’ll be training you instead.”

     You blushed a bit at the idea of spending more time with the prince before laughing awkwardly. He glared at you, taking it as mockery towards his offer. “What the hell is so funny?”

     “I thought you hated training with me!” You giggled, trying to cover your mouth to stop yourself. “You looked bored the entire fight. You even kept complaining about it!”

    “How else were you going to get worked up and unleash your potential?” He huffed. “Besides, I always look the same, don’t I?”

    You laughed again at that; a good, hearty one, while Vegeta smirked down at you. He loved seeing you smile, and it warmed his heart that he was what was bringing that look to your face. “You’ve got me there. I won’t take it easy on you once I’m better though!”

    He grinned once more as he collected your tray and empty bowl, making his way to the kitchen to wash everything. 

    Sure, asking Kakarot to put in a good word for him with you hadn’t gone entirely as expected. When Kakarot had come back and told him he started training with you, Vegeta wanted to knock his teeth out. After a bit his incessant rambling about you pushed Vegeta to the edge, wanting to make a move before it was too late. He hadn’t realized you took training so seriously in the first place, but he didn’t mind. Being alone with you, even if it was to spar, sounded good to him. He didn’t want to hurt you, throwing his punches on occasion and not pushing himself as hard. A select few times he thought of stopping altogether, but realized you might take offense to it. Apparently you had anyway, and almost died in the process.

    Next time he’d show you how to fight properly; how to use his techniques without straining your body. After a while, maybe he’d even have the courage to ask you on a date. He shook his head at that. What was he even thinking? A date? Where the hell had that come from? He finished rinsing off the utensils and dried them with the dish rag before putting them all away. Sure he had feelings for you, but that didn’t mean they were reciprocated. 

    Little did either of you know, Goku had planned this all from the start as a means to get you two together. Both the prince and yourself had confided in him your crushes, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do something to get his best buds together. After all, he bet Krillin 10 bucks it would happen, and Goku wasn’t one to lose at anything. Later down the road, when you guys would eventually become official, then he would embarrass you both with the stories and confessions you had told him. Until then, he would just have to continue to be the best wing-man this universe had ever seen.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, MARCH 31, 2012 I have sooo much to update on. It’s both sad and good. It’s sad because we lost our little ratty yesterday. It’s good because Tom got hired on! After 4 years and 8 months, it’s official! Life is just about the best it’s been since we came here and it’s sooo nice to hear nothing but the rain today and any sounds we make and only what we make. But the job isn’t 100% official yet. The “realness” of it may not take effect for another week or two, and it may be a while before he gets a raise. But they’re a big, European company with good benefits! :)

Eileen was delighted with how well things have been going for us. As I told her, I have never “felt” my dad’s presence in any way, but just maybe he is looking out for us when you think of the good things that have happened in just the short time he’s been gone while no God, if there even is one, seemed to care about us at all. Our lives never were and never will be perfect, but it’s an ironic coincidence that God lets us suffer for years, then my father dies and we suddenly achieve things we’ve struggled for years to achieve.

Last night I crashed at 8:30 and it was perfect timing, knowing Jesse had left at around that time and the dogs wouldn’t stop barking till around 1am. So I kicked on the sound machine and slept 12 hours due to my emotions exhausting me. We were both sad and excited. It’s sad walking by the spot where his cage used to be and not seeing him beg for those weekend treats we’d share with him. But to help make up for it is knowing we can finally move on to making preparations to move! Just maybe we’ll even make it to Italy.

I giggle to myself when I think of the day we get to tell Jesse we’re checking out of this little old heap of tin. I hope he gets every single nightmare possible for tenants, too! I know that while he may appear indifferent when we break the news to him inside he’ll be upset. We were good tenants and good tenants are hard to find. Even when we had to split the rent back on unemployment, we still paid him everything we owed. Yet despite being the perfect tenant, I was not allowed to mourn my beloved pet rat in peace any more than my dad.

After Tom left for work, I knew that yesterday was the day. The poor little guy could barely lift his head. Then for a few hours, it was just horrible watching him struggle to breathe. I wished to hell we had that homemade euthanasia kit. I even considered smothering him to end his suffering but couldn’t do it. Although Tom assured me he was probably unconscious since whatever illness he had seemed to affect his head and that it was just his natural reflexes working to breathe in the end, it was a terrible thing to have to watch. What made it all the more miserable was the fucking cock gunning his motorcycle for what seemed like forever. Really, I’m sitting there watching my pet die and I’m getting vroom, vroom, vroom! Like I said, I hope the fucker gets the worst tenants possible like the thieves and druggies that were in here before us. They broke into his house when he was out and stole his gun and almost managed to steal his Harley too. Too bad they didn’t, though the damn cock would’ve just replaced it.

Then when Tom came home we had to listen to him working on a vehicle of some kind and gunning engines while he shouted back and forth to whoever was under the hood as we buried the little guy behind our shed. Tom dug the grave deep and put big heavy rocks on top to keep the fucking dogs from digging him up.

So no more chocolate brown ratty with the white “gloves” and “socks.” :( I posted his pic on my FB wall and people gave their condolences, including the drama queen. I was polite in my reply but thinking how much I wanted to tell her to take herself and Larry, lick their fingers and stick them in an electrical outlet.

It was nice hearing from Irene today. :) I figured she’d come back eventually. She’s just too sweet a person to stay away long. She again commented after a comment I made on one of Nane’s ocean pics, saying, “Kein Hai in Sicht.” I had to look up the word Hai because I didn’t know it, but now I know it means shark. So just when I was laughing at the thought of how she’s still teaching me German even though we weren’t friends, she messages me to say she’d been depressed, burned out, and things got to be too much for her. She apologized for ending our friendship.

I figured there was more to it than the tagging thing, and as I told her, if anyone knows what it’s like to feel depressed, stressed and totally pushed to the edge, it’s me. I told her I’d always be here for her and she added me back on FB, so that was nice. I still wonder, though, if she kind of likes me and was a bit jealous when Nane and I made up. Either way, I’m not surprised to hear from her. It was Nane that was the real surprise. Especially after how mean she was to me. I really didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again.

I called my mom to give her the news but got her machine. So I left her a quick message. She’s probably at the store.

Tom says he feels the best he’s felt in 15 years since he started the Q10 supplements. He’s also down 5 pounds without any effort, so he figures that if he actually tries to diet, he’ll lose more. He also added fish oil supplements to his diet which I’m trying, too. Fish oil is supposed to be good for those with joint pain like I often get. Even when I wasn’t working out I had joint pain at times, especially in the hips. I doubt it’s arthritis, but it is listed as one of the symptoms of my sleep disorder. Furthermore, fish oil seems to boost the metabolism, which makes you hungrier, thus causing weight loss. You just have to be careful not to give in to that hunger and eat more since you have to be hungry in order to lose weight. Like it or not the two go hand in hand.

There’s been a lot of loss lately. Kim and I lost our dads less than a month apart, and now I’ve lost my rat, Christine has lost her cat, and Alison lost a bird and a dog.

Aly and I can’t figure out what the hell the troll is up to. She peeked in on us the last two days but hasn’t blogged or contacted us. Is she trying to prove something? Or is Mommy really breathing down her neck that hard? As Aly said, it’s hard to believe she’s not blogging somewhere, but maybe she is and simply chose not to have it indexed by Google.

Can’t figure out what Maliheh is up to either. I knew that “promise” to keep in touch was a joke. I still can’t be sure if she’s playing with me or not, but since I’ve wondered this for so long now and have had this feeling for so long, I’d say that yeah, she’s “teasing” me by making me wait on her like Nane used to do. At first I thought I said or did something she didn’t like or she just got sick of me, but couldn’t figure out why she didn’t dump me if that were the case, but that would defeat the purpose. If my theory is correct, then she can’t string me along and make me wait on her if she dumps me. She may have a lot going on in her life, but she did before too, when I’d hear from her regularly. I don’t know if she planned this all along or if she really did get at least a little sick of me and decided this would be a fun game to play since she still wanted to remain friends.

FRIDAY, MARCH 30, 2012 I learned that “Jim’s” real name is Askim and that he’s some kind of technician. I like the name but it’s also funny. Askim. Ask him. Ask him to separate coffee filters for you, I told Nane, when you’re in the shower. I recently had a dream that I spent the day separating coffee filters for her while she was at work, so that’s where that one came from.

Anyway, she and I spoke every day this week except for Monday. :)

Got a busy day ahead today and not much to update on. The rat is still ill, my leg muscles are sore and so I’m taking a break from running today, and I have several things to do today. Even though I’m not going to pig out tomorrow, it wouldn’t surprise me if my weight “reset” itself back to where it was even if I keep dieting and exercising, but we’ll see. Still think my thyroid could be wacky.

Still waiting for either good news or bad news at work and it’s getting old. I hate this waiting game! We could know something today, but worst-case scenario we have to wait till next week.

THURSDAY, MARCH 29, 2012 It’s going to be a pleasant day out there today so I don’t expect it to be very peaceful.

Lost 4 pounds so far this week. Maybe those Fullbars I’ve been having really do help with weight loss. A weight-loss doctor created them and while they’re bland as hell and it’s like biting into Styrofoam, they at least seem to help. Then again, so does cutting calories and exercising. Don’t know how long it will last, though. A high-protein diet definitely helps with random cravings and hunger, but the last 4 hours of my day are tough.

Had a dream Andy joined Facebook and I told him, “Now don’t embarrass me here.”

He said, “I promise to behave, darling,” then somehow managed to insert an icon of the finger.

Yeah, we probably would say and do this too, LOL.

Irene commented after every comment I made on Nane’s wall recently, LOL.

Nane’s the only one so far who wasn’t that impressed with my singing. I thought Andy would say it sucked, but he said it was fine.

The troll was back yesterday, but again, Aly and I can’t figure out what’s up with her. It’s like she just wants to let us know she’s still alive or something, but not locked up anywhere. Just like last time she made a quick post saying she’d been sick for a week with the flu and only spent 15 minutes on my blog instead of 10 hours catching up like she would do even when there was nothing to catch up on.

Tom’s working weird hours so he’ll probably be exhausted when he gets in. He had his interview yesterday and still thinks he’ll be hired on. I hope so! If not, he could actually be laid off in about a week or less. He came home after just 6 hours yesterday. They’re still paying him for 8, but the reason is that because they’re so busy now, they sent him home so he could get some sleep and be prepared to work from midnight to noon. So he crashed right after he ate. I’m amazed he can do that. There’d be no way I could crash before at least 8pm and also no way I could work 12 hours on less than 4 hours of sleep. He’s amazing!

Getting a little apprehensive with April looming around the corner but not overly concerned (if it was a real cop who emailed me). I’m a little surprised I haven’t been harassed online. I thought they might resort to various scare tactics (the pigs) and do shit to make themselves visible on my tracker, send emails or messages on other sites with threats and ultimatums, etc. Whatever they do in the future I intend to ignore unless they either push me too far or leave me no choice by busting through these doors and literally hauling my ass out of here. I think they would’ve come here by now if they were going to do that, thus making their own lives more complicated, so all else should be easy enough to ignore. The last thing I would want to do would be to give them the reaction they wanted by expressing anger or showing fear. They aim to control and manipulate much in the way an abusive lover does. Only problem is that sadly this is legal, and when it’s not, they still get away with it anyway.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 28, 2012 It seems I learn something new about Nane every time we talk. I thought she never had kids so she could do other things. Like travel. Instead, I learned that 12 years ago she got pregnant at 39 and was considered a high-risk pregnancy. Well, her baby girl died and she’s been afraid to get pregnant ever since. I guess she couldn’t have been that far along. They can tell the baby’s gender at just 12 weeks. Plus, I’ve seen close-ups of her tummy and there are no stretch marks. So I’d say she miscarried by the fourth month. I didn’t want to ask her. I could tell it was a touchy subject for her.

As of yet, not one single person commented on the link I left to me singing. I guess I must really suck, LOL. Hey, it was the best I could do by phone. Still, I was hoping people would at least say something even if it was to tell me it sucked.

The rat is continuing to deteriorate and I can’t figure out for the life of me how it is he’s managed to stay alive this long.

Tom didn’t learn anything new at work yesterday but he takes that as a good sign. Like the supervisor is going through the mandatory motions of interviewing everyone he doesn’t want for the job first. We hope so anyway. Over the next few weeks or less, he’s either gonna get hired on, given one of the positions he put in for but still as a temp, or he’ll be laid off.

Haven’t heard from the drama queen since she tried to tell me mom and dad told her to “give me what she wants.” Damn, I hope that’s not true! I don’t think it is and neither does Tom. Honestly, I’d rather my folks’ money be divvied up evenly between ALL 3 of us even if it meant Larry’s child-woman got some of it than for Tammy to get it all. Or most of it.

The rain is back but I don’t know if Jesse is.

Later…

It still amazes me just how much German I’ve learned even if I’m far from fluent and my grammar is still shaky. And I never “meant” to either. It is my one and only unplanned language, but I have found that most of the best things in life are unplanned anyway. Less than two years ago I knew about half a dozen German words. I never had the desire to learn the language and never found it pretty or interesting in any way. Then one day one article and one person I never met halfway around the world changed all that. Funny how these things happen. The not-so-funny part is that the more I concentrate on German and neglect my other languages, the more it hurts those other languages. I had to stop and think when saying something in Spanish earlier and I find that learning multiple languages can both help and confuse each other. Sometimes it’s hard to keep them separated. I’ll start to say something in one language and accidentally throw in a word from another language. I always wished I was one who could concentrate on perfecting one language and one language only, but instead I’m a real variety freak. I think if most people knew I spoke 5 languages and understood 4 more they would think I was utterly mad, LOL.

I feel so bad for my ratty. He’s getting weaker by the minute and is just totally deteriorating. I don’t think he’ll last another week. He can barely lift his poor little head and keep his eyes open. He’s wasting away since he doesn’t have the energy to eat.

I was really damn glad to be fit, strong and flexible a little while ago. I sprayed some air freshener and this Febreze stuff leaves a slick residue on the floor with the way it sprays a mist, unlike a powdery blast like Glade does. And yes, I’m going back to Glade after the Febreze is gone. It’s still the BEST line and the cheapest, I think. Anyway, even though I had my sneakers on my right foot started to slide out in front of me. I couldn’t pull that leg back in so, I ended up shifting my body so I was facing the tub, placed my hands on the side of it and ended up going down with my knees bent and my butt between my feet, a position I’ve always been able to sit in all my life whereas most people can only sit that way with their feet underneath their butts and not to the sides of it. Not a single bruise on me. I probably would’ve been hurt if I were tall or out of shape.

Maybe Dad is looking out for me, too. I’ll really wonder if Tom gets one of those positions at work. Yet as much as I wish Dad could return, things are going better for us and Nane has returned. I understand, though, that if she could dump me once, she could dump me twice and never come back, like I told Andy, but sometimes you gotta just take chances and enjoy the ride while it lasts. Not sure I’d want to go to the extremes he would, especially since I’m not single, but he thinks long-distance relationships suck cuz I can’t know if she smells, eats with her mouth open, has bad breath, bites her nails, etc. LOL, as I told him, if she does half these things then I’m even happier to keep her at a distance, though I can usually just ask her what I want to know. I understand his reasoning, though, especially for a single person.

If Nane suddenly showed up at the door I wouldn’t hesitate to let her in. So it isn’t that I wouldn’t want to meet her; it’s that I wouldn’t want potential trouble so close to home. Besides, that kind of spoils the fantasy when you try to make it a reality. Better to leave some things to the imagination sometimes. Reality is rarely what we imagine, hope or fantasize it to be anyway.

I think another reason I hesitate to meet women on the side is that I worry I might have a hard time separating my feelings from sex. I wouldn’t want to get too attached. I know my feelings for one person wouldn’t and couldn’t detract from my feelings for Tom, but he is my reality and I find it works best for me if I just keep the two separate. So Nane will remain forever in cyberspace and stories where she is much easier to control.

If it was someone I didn’t know but found attractive, that actually might be easier than doing it with Nane cuz I do have a degree of feelings for Nane. It’s hard not to after all we’ve shared about our lives and all that.

And since I’m not the sociable type, where would I meet these women? Looking for love/lust is like looking for objects. Seek and you shall NOT find. At least it’s always been that way for me. I always find things around here when I’m not looking for them. Just about all those I’ve had relationships with or just sex was unplanned “accidents,” including Tom. I wasn’t even looking for a relationship at the time, let alone a guy. I just figured I’d have an occasional one-nighter with women throughout my life.

I hate to say it since it may sound stereotypical, but most people who go to bars or join dating services are NOT the kinds of people I want to be dealing with, even just for sex. I seem to have had a thing for foreign chicks anyway for the last few years, LOL. But if an “accident” happens that isn’t crazy or ugly, I just might take a chance even if I probably shouldn’t.

Well, our dicklord up the hill is back from wherever the hell he went based on the ATV I just heard. Now he’s really making up for lost time zooming back and forth up the hill. Just what is he doing??? This isn’t the dirt bike the kid sometimes gets on my nerves with, it’s definitely the ATV. Why do I have a feeling he’ll be down here any time now?

Some of Nane’s auto-corrected typos lately crack me up. Reminds me of Maliheh and how we were talking one night and all of a sudden I’d get something like: Sammy and I are running through glass doors.

I was like, WTF? Who’s Sammy and what do you mean you’re running through glass doors?

Speaking of Maliheh, I wonder what’s up with her? I hope she’s been getting my messages and was able to follow the singing link ok. Dani on Thoughts really loved my voice (I still think I’m just ok) so I know it’s working.

LOL, Nane just said don’t take it personally, I sound sweet, she can’t sing at all, but my writing is a lot better than my singing. She’s right on with that one! Still, I guess it’s a matter of opinion and I do appreciate her honesty.

Mitch just told me in Spanish I have the voice of an angel and I think Nane is now officially drunk, LOL. Just like I could tell when Andy would be high before he quit the weed, I can tell by Nane’s typing when she’s drunk.

I have had no desire to work on my book. I guess I’m officially retired as a creative writer or about to embark on a long leave of absence. Seems the only type of writing I’m up for these days is in my journal.

TUESDAY, MARCH 27, 2012 Nane sent me a picture in a PM of herself climbing rocks and hunting for shells and pebbles on a Turkish beach. I like it. :)

She didn’t say why, but she’s staying at a friend’s place for a few days. The friend has 2-year-old girl twins. Ugh! She says they wear glasses and are cute but keep you busy. They’d drive me batshit crazy, no doubt, LOL.

Tom feels much better than he did yesterday and is pretty sure he just had some kind of stomach bug. I’m glad he’s over it. Hopefully, there won’t be something else right around the corner. Poor guy seems to have one thing after another lately.

He also agrees Jesse’s gone somewhere. Not only was our Internet bill in the mailbox but so was one of his, suggesting someone came by and tossed it in there when they went to feed the mutts. I just hope he’s back soon. When he takes off, I’m the one that’s got to deal with it. Then again, when he does return he’ll only replace the mutts with himself and his loud vehicles. Those are harder to drown out with sound machines, too.

I left a voice post on LJ of me singing in Spanish and shared the link with Nane, Maliheh, Andy, Eileen, Christine, and Alison. It was just a quick verse and not overly good sound quality-wise since it was recorded over the phone, but it’s still ok.

MONDAY, MARCH 26, 2012 It’s raining now even though it’s not supposed to. But that’s a good thing because while I’m sure I’ll have to hear at least some barking today, maybe he’ll hold off on bulldozing as much as the drive needs it. It’s only going to rain again during the last part of the week anyway. Or so they say.

I wish I had something interesting to update on, but it’s pretty much all a waiting game from here on out. I’ve decided that once we learn either way whether or not he gets hired on or laid off, I’ll let my closest friends know in a PM and not in any of my blogs. It’s just that I feel that blogging should be about my business and not the business of others. Within reason anyway.

Later…

So some guy in England, after spending just 7 seconds on my Thoughts profile page, goes and friends me even though I said on my wall there that I won’t accept friend requests from those I haven’t talked to before. Of all the features on that site, disabling friend requests isn’t one of them. Then again, neither is it on MyOpera.

I wish Facebook let you know when your messages are picked up like MySpace does so I could at least know if Nane’s read them. There’s been no activity on her page yet, though she’s most active online late at night. Still, I don’t expect to hear from her for a day or two.

I wonder about her and the guy she’s with. She seems to do absolutely nothing online during weekends unless he leaves earlier than usual and it makes me wonder (and worry a bit) if he’s some kind of control freak. I’d hate to think that he’s the jealous type and that’s not the impression my dreams leave me with nor does it seem anything she’d put up with, but who am I to know for sure? I don’t know the guy. Maybe they’re just so head over heels for each other that they really don’t want to do anything else or bother with anyone else, but it’s still something I wonder about at times. I hope for her sake he really is a good guy and that their relationship lasts forever. She and I could never be together (other than just for intimate encounters) even if she lived right down the street. Therefore, I hope someone else can truly love her and be there for her even if they never live together or anything like that.

Poor Tom might be sick again, this time with a stomach bug. He hasn’t had the runs or thrown up, but he’s got stomach pains, has been going from hot to cold, was coughing in his sleep, and wonders if he has a fever. My first thought was that something was trying to screw him out of being interviewed (I think that’s today or tomorrow) but he’s sure he’ll be ok as lousy as he feels. I hope so! We could know as soon as Wednesday if he gets hired, but might not know it for several weeks if he gets laid off. They’re not going to lay anyone off while they’re still busy.

Kim checked out my Thoughts blog yesterday like crazy, accessing almost every entry as if she were looking for something. I asked her about it and she said she was just looking to see if the troll had returned. Couldn’t she just ask me? I think she was looking to see if I mentioned her. She’s sort of been lying to Aly and I. She once complained about not having money and I thought to myself, well, she may not be the brightest, and she may even be a little on the naïve side for 31, but she’s able-bodied enough despite being ghastly overweight. So I asked if she was going to get a job. At one point I misunderstood her and thought she’d recently gotten a job, but then I noticed she never went into any detail about it and was vague. Never said what it is she does, what her hours are – nothing. Even Aly tried to fish it out of her, figuring she’d want to brag at least a little about her first paying job, even though she doesn’t drive and doesn’t live near a bus system, and finally, she said she was just a helper. This probably means just helping her mom who is a diabetic and has health problems, but at least that’s something.

I then remembered making the comment to Kim, when we were discussing the troll’s laziness, that it bothered me when those who are capable of working just sat on their asses. So that may be why she’s letting us think she works, though according to Aly, she’s collecting social security. I didn’t know this. I thought she was living off her folks, so I guess it’s good that she’s at least got some money of her own.

Aly said she’s got 3 other siblings and as much as she hates to say it, only one of them seems “normal.” Two are in group homes with the mentality of a 5-year-old, and Kim seems to be not all there based on how she types and the things she says and does. Aly finds it a bit creepy that she’s really into managing fan sites and roleplaying, pretending to be other people, and well, the stuff we usually do in our teens and twenties, LOL.

Speaking of the troll, Aly’s worried that when she finally does return it will be with a vengeance. This is the longest she hasn’t harassed anyone, but it’s because she hasn’t been online. The two do go hand in hand. If she’s online, she’s harassing people. But what we don’t get is how her mom’s managing to keep her away as strong-willed as the troll can be. Sooner or later they’re going to look the other way or she’s going to get sick of being controlled, right? As Aly said, though, too much time offline can make her just as angry as too much time online can. She’s going to be spewing hate like crazy when she does get back. I don’t give a damn what she says about me, but I know others would prefer not to be trashed and bashed online, especially with their full names involved. Either way, I don’t know what to think at this point. If it weren’t for that one post left on the 17th to say she’s been busy reading and walking to Kmart, almost as if she just wanted people to know she was still alive and wasn’t in the funny farm, I would think she was in the funny farm or jail.

I don’t know what the Internet will be like in 20-30 years, but I fear that when her parents get too old to babysit her, that’s when she’ll be at her worst. You simply cannot “uncrazy” a crazy person. You can help a troubled person, but not one who’s genuinely sick in the head with no concept of right or wrong.

The more I think about what Tammy told me about being told to give me what she wants, the more I realize just how full of shit she is. Shame on her for thinking I’m that dumb that I wouldn’t think it sounded fishy as hell, but I agree with Tom, she just wants to get me going. My parents have been mean and a lot of other things, but they’re definitely not dumb. They wouldn’t just trust her like that. Also, the lawyer has to contact those in the will to tell them what they’re getting, so if I’m to get 10K and I only get a check for 5K, I’ll know I’ve been ripped off. I still don’t think I’ll get anything, though. Just isn’t meant to be, but that’s ok as long as we can pay for the necessities. Neither of us wants to ever own anything again other than our car and personal stuff. No houses, no businesses, nothing like that.

I’m beginning to wonder if either something happened to Jesse or if he took off somewhere for a while because the barking has been way worse since last Thursday. Also, the weather may not be Harley-worthy, but why haven’t I heard that old truck? Yet there’s been nothing from him, only his mutts. And they don’t just sound scared to be alone, as usual, but there’s a sense of abandonment in their barks. Yelling at them didn’t do me any good and I had to throw on my sound machine. Typical of Westerners or not, I still don’t see how most human beings would find this acceptable.

I really, REALLY hope this isn’t an issue in an adult community and that it isn’t incessant or frequent there, and yes, there is a difference. So what if the dog next door barks just a few times if it does it 6-12 times a day. I just hope there are no issues with age, credit or anything else that could prevent us from getting in.

Worst case scenario we save to buy some old dump in a trailer park cuz then we’d at least own it outright and not have to worry about payments. Then we could have some control over what happened when and do what we want with it. That’s the only thing I don’t like about renting is having to ask permission if we wanted to paint, wallpaper, etc. Makes me feel like a kid again. But I don’t want to own if it can’t be all paid for.

SUNDAY, MARCH 25, 2012 The fucking dogs have been going off since I got up, and Tom will be off to work in a few hours. Meanwhile, I’m feeling many things right now. I’m hopeful for Tom getting a permanent position this week, though afraid to get that hopeful. I’m excited about the thought of moving, though trying not to get too excited. I’m determined to get back on the treadmill and get some of this damn weight off, though not too optimistic in that department. I’m happy to think and fantasize about Nane and her lovely smile that shows off her high cheekbones, but sorry I can never meet her.

I’m longing to dump my sister, but hesitant to do so for mom’s sake. As Tom pointed out, my mom may be a bitch, but even those who aren’t nice deserve a break after losing their husband of 62 years. Well, as soon as mom joins him on the other side I will be quick to wash my hands of what remains of my fucked up “family.”

I can’t wait! I just can’t fucking wait! Right or wrong, I am sooo sick of the family bullshit and I can’t wait to forever walk away from all the bickering and the horrible memories. I walked away for 10 years for a reason and if what happened hadn’t happened to us in 2007, I wouldn’t have called my folks at all. But desperate people do desperate things in desperate situations. And Tom and I were certainly desperate at the time. It doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate my parents saving our asses like they did, and I’m not going to “re-dump” my mother. Just the siblings and extended family once mom goes. Then again, there is no brother or extended family to dump since I’m not in touch with them anyway. It’s just the sister I gotta be concerned with. My sister, who is as mean and vindictive as she is sweet and kind, depending on if she’s pissed at you or not. She’d be the first to come running if I were suddenly drowning in quicksand. But she’d also be the first to toss me right into it if she was pissed at me, and that’s scary. Fortunately, all she managed to do was stress me out and annoy me the last time she got pissed at me in 2009 because she didn’t know where we live (and get herself a lifelong illness thanks to my influencing ability). Yeah, people get sick that piss me off even if I don’t want them to. Anyway, had she known where we were she’d have called the cops with some bullshit and sent them to our door. It wouldn’t have done her any good in the end once they saw we hadn’t done anything, but still, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells with this bitch and that’s nothing anyone should put up with if they don’t have to. I don’t have to right now, but I choose to for mom’s sake, and just in case we may get a little something when she dies. If I dump her now she’ll go running to Mom about it, then Mom will get on my ass since Tammy will make up a million lies along the way instead of saying that I simply walked away from her, and my mother and I don’t need that shit.

Tom pointed out that she could be lying about the will just to push my buttons. He reminded me that a will is a legal document drawn up by a lawyer and so it’s very important that they be very specific in how it’s worded. In other words, a lawyer can’t simply write: Cut the oldest kid out and let the middle kid give the younger kid whatever she wants.

I still don’t expect much if anything at all that would go against the “plan.” Therefore, I expect to always live in NorCal and I definitely don’t expect to buy a house, but I wouldn’t want to do that without being able to buy it outright anyway.

It makes no sense, though. Again, why would she worry about Larry getting anything if she knew he’d been cut from the will a few years ago? If what she says is true, what the hell were my parents thinking when they told her to give me what she wants?! Like she’d give me shit? Yeah, right! She’d keep it all for herself if she could and so would I. I ain’t gonna lie about that one. We’re all naturally selfish that way.

Even if she did decide to be generous enough to float me a tiny chunk of the 50 or so grand she’ll probably get to keep all for herself, I hate to give her whatever address we’re at at the time. I really do. And I know she’s going to try to hunt me down online when she sees I’ve “disappeared,” so I’ll close as many ports as I can. I didn’t know about blog sites that let you block messages back in 2009, but since that’s a more common feature now on most sites, I’ll make sure I only blog on sites she can’t harass me on cuz if she reads any of this shit you bet she’ll try! She isn’t going to care that I don’t use last names. Just as long as she knows I’m talking about her, that’ll be enough to light the bitch’s fuse, though I won’t deny the idea of her one day reading this amuses me. If she does.

We may never be rich in money but we will always be rich in love and so people like Tom, Nane, Andy, Alison and other friends really help to make up for the family that has basically treated me like shit since day one.

SATURDAY, MARCH 24, 2012 Got a reply to Tammy’s message asking if she had any idea what we could expect as far as inheritance goes and I did not like her answer. After she again bitched about Larry and how Lisa blasted him out when she was in Florida with her for a few days, and how her other kids called him and his bitch every name in the book for what he “thinks she did to him years ago,” she told me Larry had been cut out of the will as of a few years ago and hasn’t been added back in that she knows of. She also claims she has no idea how much money they have and that she was told to give me what she wanted.

Give me what she wanted?! Were my folks out of their mind when they said this?! I like the idea of the pervert being locked out of it if that’s even true, but how could they be dumb enough to trust her?! And why would they cut their own son out? Then again, isn’t that a dumb question to be asking? I mean, how could they send their own daughter away and do the things they’ve done to all their kids, right?

So, in other words, I ain’t getting shit if they really think they can trust her to “give me what she wants.” Come on, we’re only human. She ain’t gonna wanna share or give me shit. I wouldn’t give her anything. Maybe material things I didn’t want and couldn’t sell, but that’s about it.

But why would she talk about keeping the pervie away from mom’s money even if it meant going to court if she knew he’d been written out of the will? Either way, Tammy is totally untrustworthy and a habitual liar, and if it really is true that my parents entrusted the bitch to just give me what she wants, we ain’t getting shit. But deep down I knew this and that any significant money would be against the “plan.” You know, the one where we’re meant to be poor most of our lives. But as long as we have enough to pay for necessities, extra money isn’t overly important cuz we don’t intend to buy a place.

It’s hard to believe she has no idea how much money they have, though. But like I said, no matter what it is, it looks like she’ll get it all. There’s no way she’d be honest about it. Hell, I wouldn’t be. The only thing I like is the idea of the pedophile and child-woman with God knows what kind of daddy issues, as Aly said, being cut out.

Ok, so am I really wrong to assume we won’t get shit? Tom said not to read too much into it or jump the gun, but I know what’s in and not in our cards for the most part. Love is, money isn’t. So just like we could with his own parents’ inheritance, the potential partnership in Oregon, the program he wrote, and God knows what else, we can kiss the prospect of money goodbye. Little will they ever know that being poor does have its advantages even if we’re not quite there right now.

Later…

Tom’s out grocery shopping now and I finished the laundry.

The rat is still alive but is blind and seems to be only able to eat soft foods. So he is eating after all. He came out of his burrow for a drink, but all he does is sleep for the most part. No more coming to the door to be let out, no more fidgeting in his cage. It’s sad.

Even though my weight is still up, my inches are down a bit. What I don’t get is why my boobies are still sore after my period? They feel like they’re going to burst through my bra. This is unusual for me.

And why didn’t I have any dreams about the car crash Andy was in yesterday? Thankfully he’s ok. Apparently, his brakes failed and he plowed through someone’s garage and really demolished it. Tons of heavy shit fell onto the car. It wasn’t his regular car, though. It was his mother’s station wagon that he uses for canning. Everybody couldn’t wait to see the damage once the car was towed, but amazingly it only had a few dents and scratches! So his mom’s insurance will pay for the garage and all he has to do is pay for the damage to the car, which hopefully won’t be too hard on him. I’m just glad he’s ok!

Strangely enough, while I didn’t have any bad dreams about him, I “saw” the vase Nane bought and “Jim’s” height in a dream where we went to a fair and she got this vase.

She also cracked me up earlier saying my German was quite ok, but my Turkish was lousy. LOL, that it is. The two words I may know I only learned by accident from her.

She flattered me by saying she likes my writing style. This is a compliment from anyone, but when it comes from someone you’re crushing on it doubles the pleasure. :)

Last week they talked about Tom working Saturday, but that never happened. This week, however, he’s working Sunday (tomorrow). That’s all well and good as we like the extra money, but we REALLY hope he gets that job. No bad vibes, visions or dreams on my part, but hey, not everyone like me “sees” it all. According to him, the area he’s hoping to get into is secure. Meaning it makes up for ¾ of the place and wouldn’t be in danger of being shut down. He still says we’d be ok if he did get laid off and reminded me that the license, insurance and what will soon be hopefully our last propane fill-up, will be expenses that will be out of the way, leaving everything else for food, rent, gas, internet and savings. The goal is to get the hell out in July, August at the latest, and to do this it would greatly help for him not to be laid off, then stuck with a minimum wage job God knows how many more weeks/months later.

If what Tammy says is true I’m so fucking pissed even though it’s no surprise. I’m tempted to walk away from her now, but then I REALLY wouldn’t get anything. At least if I play nicey-nicey just a little longer until mom goes, maybe then she’ll at least be “generous” enough to share a grand or two.

The only disturbing dream I had isn’t really all that disturbing because it was so off the wall and didn’t involve the freeloaders. I guess someone from kindergarten tried to frame me for something they did, LOL. They used my name (like they would remember it even if I still used my maiden name) and I was pleading with them on the phone to tell the pigs the truth or else I could end up on probation for the rest of my life.

Later…

Ok, this is freaky. Really fucking freaky. And hopefully not some evil omen of some kind either. A character in the book I’m reading, though not a lead character, has the same name as the pig that screwed me. And he’s a pig! Only he’s pigging in Florida in the book.

FRIDAY, MARCH 23, 2012 Boy, did I get a real treat for the eyes yesterday when Nane changed her profile picture on Facebook for the first time since we met a year and a half ago. :) Andy said he didn’t like the picture because it’s blurry and she’s looking downward, but I think it’s great. It’s not clear enough to show any wrinkles and she looks very happy in it. Love how her hair looked too, even though it’s wavy. Don’t know if it’s natural, though. She might actually have straight hair. I also think her natural color may be dark brown and not light brown.

I asked and she confirmed she’s been wearing contacts for years. I figured she couldn’t have perfect vision to go with her perfect body. Nobody’s that blessed, LOL.

The dogs ended up barking for over 5 hours. But we’ll still get to live where we don’t have to hear other people’s dogs someday after having to listen to them for 20 years, right?

Customary here or not, I cannot deal with many more years of getting hit with 6-8 hours of barking once or twice a week. I simply cannot! If we end up stuck here or end up moving to the same old shit, we’ve got to do something. A cyber-friend said she had the same problem with her own landlord till she complained and the landlord was told to either shut them up or get rid of them. Well, since most people wouldn’t dare bring their dogs indoors and make them part of the family, he opted to just get rid of them.

But this was a whole ‘nother state. My landlord has already been officially complained on, probably by whoever’s behind him, and look what good it’s done. In the West, all he would have to tell those who are supposed to make people think their responsibility as a dog owner ends when they go out is, “I do my best to quiet them when I’m home, but when I’m not home there’s nothing I can do about it.”

That’s the lame crap he told us. But there IS something he could do about it. If he’s that against the thought of making them household pets, he could at least muzzle the fucking mutts. There are muzzles that will still allow them to eat and drink somewhat. Or what about anti-barking collars? But this cock doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself and so the people either gave up or moved. And if they moved, chances are the new people have dogs that are doing the same thing since that’s what most people do out here; they leave their dogs outside like yesterday’s trash and to hell with their neighbors. But this rudeness is widely accepted and tolerated in the West. The barking doesn’t even bother Tom. As a western native, he grew up with this shit. Well, I didn’t! And I don’t expect it’ll do us any good in this state, but I fully do intend to call the complaint line anonymously if we get stuck here. After all this time I don’t see how he would suspect we’re the ones that called.

I suspect he goes to bars when he takes off from around 7:30 - 8:30 and doesn’t return till after 2am. At his age, I doubt he’s going out to meet anyone, and he’s never seemed to want that anyway. He seems to really like being alone, especially after complaining about having “too many wives” in the past and how they all stole his money.

The good Jessie, the female one that’s been my friend since childhood messaged me yesterday and told me Renting Ginny is great so far. She’s been reading it as time permits. She says she can’t wait to find out what happens next. I’m glad she likes it cuz other than sharing with friends I’ve totally failed as an author.

THURSDAY, MARCH 22, 2012 This is the third or fourth day I haven’t worked out, thanks to allergies and the cramps I should’ve gotten yesterday and not today. Tom probably had a case of bad allergies as opposed to a cold since I haven’t had anything other than allergies. I had to take a Benadryl for it, and at 8:30 when it was just about ready to knock me out for a nap, the dogs went off. When Jesse didn’t come out and shut them up, I figured he ran out somewhere. But when I woke up at nearly 11pm, they were still going crazy so no getting any peace tonight. Fucking bastard won’t be back till the wee hours of the morning knowing him. But why tonight? He rarely goes out on a Thursday night. I hope the little cock doesn’t go out on both Friday and Saturday nights as well!

And so I found myself asking the same question I’ve been asking for 20 years now – am I ever going to live where I don’t have to listen to other people’s dogs???

I still worry something up there is going to undo all we’ve worked so hard to build up by having him laid off. This will be a good test, I guess, as to just how much Dad may be looking out for us cuz nothing else usually does. I don’t want to think negatively but I don’t want to get my hopes up either. Even Tom says he doesn’t want to get overconfident and he’s usually a pretty optimistic person. He also swears getting laid off won’t be a big setback for us since we’re getting things paid off now. Instead of paying every few months, he paid the entire year of car insurance off. The weather will be warming up soon enough so we won’t need to run the heat. Plus, he says it shouldn’t be more than a few weeks till he got something new now that the economy is better.

I disagree. If God lets him get laid off it’s for a reason and that can only be to set us back. I think it would take more than just a few weeks to get another job and that God would make sure unexpected things came up to set us back.

I still wonder if we’re gonna be stuck here forever unless we practically drop everything, take only the bare necessities and what we can fit in the car, and then run. Just not sure where we would run to and what we would do to get by till he got a job. I just know I don’t want to keep going through this cycle of bullshit till he retires. No, we wouldn’t be even remotely close to desperate if he got laid off cuz we could collect unemployment. But we don’t want to “collect.” I didn’t come here to be a bum and neither did he. I’m tired of God, fate, society and other things beyond our control deciding what we can be and what’s meant for us. We want to be in the driver’s seat of our own life for once!

But a permanent position, as rare as they are these days, doesn’t necessarily grant you any more security. Not if that job has the threat of not being around indefinitely. If they’re shutting down the area he’s working in now they could shut down any other area as well. Yet there are no guarantees in life no matter what you do. If you have your own business, your customers aren’t guaranteed. If you work for someone else, their customers aren’t guaranteed either. Everyone’s always at risk.

It seems just about everyone has been affected by the economy somehow, including my folks. Their biggest mistake was overspending. No doubt about it. My mom is a very materialistic woman who loves to shop and I think they blew the bulk of their inheritance living too high off the hog. But as Dad said when the economy was at its worst, they couldn’t even save and what they could save had to go to medical expenses not covered by Medicare. I doubt she’s living paycheck to paycheck now that Dad’s expenses are gone and the economy’s picking up, but who knows how much they owe on things and what medical costs she could be looking at? I doubt she’ll sell the store till she absolutely has to. By then she’ll probably sell the condo too, and either go live with someone else or in some kind of assisted living program for seniors.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 21, 2012 While things are looking up for us, things are looking down for our rat. We still can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. At first I thought he was just arthritic since he is old. It started with him walking funny. He sort of hopped like a bunny. Then he started wasting away and I thought it was cancer. But none of this explains the blindness and his constant movements. Rats are normally pretty animated, but no rat of ours has ever been this fidgety. Whatever it is seems to be affecting his mouth because he’d always lick our hand when we’d pat his head and he doesn’t even do that anymore. He just wanders blindly around his cage, not eating and not wanting to come out anymore. Where is he getting the energy to be this active if he’s not eating? He’s practically starving himself. All we can be sure of is that he’s never going to get over what he’s got, and if he did he still couldn’t have much more time left due to his age.

We looked up home euthanasia remedies for small animals to save money and to let him go in familiar surroundings without some stranger poking and prodding at him. This involves a mixture of baking soda and vinegar. However, we’re not convinced he’s actually suffering in any way so we’re not going to bother preparing a kit. Why take what time he has left even though he doesn’t have much of a life? He can’t see, he can’t eat, he can’t do anything. The worst-case scenario is that he’s depressed and frustrated but definitely doesn’t appear to be suffering.

The troll thing is getting stranger by the minute. Yes, I love the break I’ve been getting from her which is part of why I went “underground” and the others don’t miss her either. But since when has her mother ever watched her this closely? It makes me wonder what’s up, but obviously she wasn’t locked up anywhere since before making the last quick post a few days ago unless she chose not to mention it for some reason and that’s hard to believe. It’s nice to know she’s at least gone from harassing people to reading and walking to Kmart like she said she’s been busy doing since she’s too lazy to get a job.

This part can’t go online cuz knowing how twisted the laws are and how warped the pig’s priorities are, I’d say that yeah, they’re reading everything I post. Wouldn’t want them to consider trying to sue me for God knows what if they think we’ve suddenly got a lot of money and they can’t get me on anything criminal (next month I should have a better idea of this), even though that’d be civil court and not criminal court, and I highly doubt the black bitch would have the money to hire a lawyer anyway. But the troll’s parents seem like they might so that’s part of why I started omitting real names, even if they were just first names. After all, they offered to pay for me to “consult” with a lawyer, remember?

There was a meeting at work that Tom said was almost too good to be true. I guess it was headed by some lady connected with Human Resources. Anyway, the meeting consisted of him, another lady who’s a temp, and a permanent guy who’s been there 5 years. Could’ve been more people, but that’s all I remember him mentioning. The woman said to Tom and the other lady, “I could call the temp company now and tell them your assignment has ended, but we’re just so impressed with the work you’ve done that we really want to try to get you other jobs.”

So Tom mentioned that he put in for Handler 3 (the highest of that position) and the other temp wants TRO (I forgot what that stands for). What was weird is that the permanent who’d been there 5 years wants Handler 2. So even though he’s been there longer and is a permanent, he wants a job under Tom, who’s still a temp and has only been there half a year? LOL, again life ain’t fair. It’s just nice when it’s not fair in our favor for once.

The Human Resources lady pulled him aside and told him the supervisor in the Handler 3 department wanted him for the job which he already knew, but that the supervisor was still told by his higher-up that he still had to accept apps, and then he could choose.

So unless something is hell-bent on teasing the hell out of us, it looks very promising for him, though I wouldn’t expect a raise. Insurance, yes, but not a raise since he already makes a lot of money. In fact, from what he can tell he’s just about the highest-paid employee there.

TUESDAY, MARCH 20, 2012 I am trying to think of the good things I have going for me in life instead of the things that piss me off so damn much that I just had to pump iron like I did just now with my resistance bands to try to work some of this steam off.

Oh, before I get to the more important and better things and people in my life, as God would have it (what a coincidence) I can’t collect disability for any kind of disability because I didn’t work enough quarters in the past to be eligible, so we’ve learned. One more thing to resent God for and that convinces me He doesn’t want me generating any on my own. I can sell things, I can win things, and I can make a few bucks here and there as long as it’s slave wages, but nothing more. This both saddens and infuriates me. But like it or not, the idea of “disability” is for those who can “no longer” work. What we can’t figure out is what the hell kind of disability I was on when I was young. I know I got on it through my father and that it may have had to do with his heart or my ear, but there’s got to have been more to it than that. I will admit that there are more important things going on right now anyway.

On to better things, and that’s hoping that one of these permanent positions comes through and he won’t have to take a pay cut. Not much of one anyway. I also hope whatever they offer for insurance and dental is affordable too, and that we get the hell out of Trailerville. Yes, a trashy old trailer is better than the streets, but I feel both insulted and humiliated to know that this is all God has felt we deserved for so long. At least we don’t seem to be towards the top of His hate list lately. When you get the sadness of losing dad and the family drama out of the picture, life is actually going quite well. It was even quiet today despite being mostly sunny and dry, though I’ll admit I didn’t get up till 3pm. What sucks is knowing I’ll probably be on days when Jesse gets to bulldozing the drive, but boy does it need it.

Amazingly, the rat is still alive. I still don’t think he’ll make a full recovery, though, due to his age. He’s definitely, if not totally blind, then partially blind. He’s moving around more in his cage but still doesn’t eat much or want to come out anymore. I’m guessing that’s because he can’t see well. He’s not even fat anymore and has probably lost half his body weight. I doubt he even weighs a pound now. I went down a couple of pounds, too.

My German hottie and I have decided to write to each other in German. Well, I may mix both English and German, LOL, depending on how long/important it is or if I’m pressed for time. Still have to look up words here and there, but that’s how you learn.

Apparently, I talked her into switching to a Timeline profile. I know some people consider them a bit cluttered, but I like them way better. It’s much more organized and I love changing cover photos every few days. In fact, it’s time to change it again!

Later…

Although I don’t have any bad vibes and haven’t had any bad dreams, you would think that given our past history, we should have every reason to worry right now. I didn’t realize it was so all or nothing where Tom’s job is concerned. I thought they were just moving his department, but nope. They’re shutting it down completely. This means that if he isn’t hired on for one of the jobs he applied for, we’ll be back on unemployment for the FORTH time in less than 5 years in about a month from now unless he can find something else before then. But God couldn’t really hate us that much, right?

Yeah, yeah, I know. Who the hell am I kidding by thinking He’s looking out for us after all the nightmares we’ve already been through? Yes, He really could hate someone enough to see them lose their job yet again, end up back in the poorhouse, lose all their savings, and continue to be stuck in their trashy little trailer no matter how hard they try to get ahead and break away. And why not? He’s let worse things happen to others.

But despite the fact that Tom says he’s pretty sure the chances of him getting laid off is 10% or less since the supervisor who does the choosing already told him he wanted him for one of the positions he put in for, now is when God would pick on us. The “stage” is totally set based on past patterns/experiences. The timing is right, the savings is right, and it’s always right when we start to get ahead that He yanks the carpet from underneath us. He doesn’t have to do it again. Instead, He could see to it that Tom got one of the jobs and that we could continue to save and get the hell out of here. But I know I can’t count on or trust God or any other outer source to do well by us.

Like I said, though, the timing is perfect. This is usually right around when things fall apart based on how many months things have gone well and what our savings is like right now. If He’d let Tom be laid off a few months ago we wouldn’t have made it because we couldn’t get unemployment until April, and I’ve always suspected that while He may sure do a good job of making it look like we’re not going to make it, He wants us to live to suffer. Well, it’s just about April. So we would live if they laid him off. We probably wouldn’t suffer as badly as a year ago since the economy is picking up and he could probably get a job within a month or two, but that would still be quite a setback. Especially if all he could get was a minimum-wage job.

Tom said this all-or-nothing thing is actually a good thing cuz now he’s not left hanging to wonder if he’s going to get hired on or laid off. Next week, we’ll know for sure either way. And they’re not gonna lay him off the day they tell him they’re going to if they really do come out and tell him that. It’d be about a month.

He feels confident that he’ll not only get one of the jobs but that they’ll judge the applicants fairly based on experience and not how young or dark they are, because so many employers (of all colors) are so obsessed with “avenging” the past for the previously oppressed, giving them first dibs on everything. I guess all we can do is hope the supervisor who said he wanted him for that job will keep his word, and that we don’t get caught up in the same old endless cycle of alternating between unemployment and temp jobs that went on for 4 years. But it seems that the less deserving you are, the more breaks you get in life, and I always get suspicious when things go well for us. Meaning, I just get that too-good-to-be-true feeling. I wish I could just be happy when things go well, and I am, but I also fear there’s a catch to it. As I said before, I don’t mind if I’m destined to be poor all my life. But at least let us pay for the necessities and have some insurance for God’s sake! A real house would be nice too, instead of dumpy little trailers.

If he gets laid off we’ve got to get the hell out of this state. We’ve got to. Running won’t change our fate and make God show a little more love for us, but that may be the only way out of this trailer and to a permanent job, even if it pays shitty and the climate sucks. We couldn’t go to Florida because the job market there is pretty similar to here. We’d have Andy in Massachusetts and health/dental coverage, though with our shit luck, they would take that away the day we got there. MA is also more crowded than a place like Nebraska and so it would have a higher unemployment rate. Nebraska is probably where we’d go. It not only has the lowest unemployment rate there but Alison and Dustin would probably help us out till we got on our feet. We don’t have enough hotel money right now. Meaning, it wouldn’t last us long enough before he got a job and us unto a place. So with nowhere to go and not enough hotel money, we couldn’t just blindly run off without thinking it through first and without having someone to help us get started. Other than my sister, that is. Sure, she’d help us, and sure Tom could work with her husband in their little home improvement business. But then we’d be screwed as hell as soon as she got pissed at us for whatever. No thanks. :)

I’m hoping that the Italy trip I won is a sign that we’re meant to go on it because that would mean he’d be meant to get a permanent job this year because the trip is set to expire in 2014. Most trips you win give you a year to take them. But this one was 7 years. Could it be because we really are meant to take it? Well, they better give him a job if we are!

He’ll have to jump on the IRS and try to work out a payment plan with them if he does get a job. As a temp, they can’t take what we still owe. But as a permanent, they could wipe our bank accounts clean and help themselves to whatever. We’re not as important as those in other countries.

Later…

Been thinking and this whole pedophile/bimbo situation pisses the shit out of me. But I like to vent. Ah, a 58-year-old slut and his 21-year-old bimbo which he knocked up. But that’s not the issue. I don’t judge people for their lifestyle even if I disagree with it, and I do. BUT…if they want to screw up their lives and each other, let them. But the thought of them making off with some of my mom’s money when she goes REALLY pisses me off.

If the ped were still single or with Sandy it wouldn’t bother me as much unless he got more than I did or was rich. Sandy was one of the sweetest people you could ever know. Everybody loved her. Not one person in the family ever had anything bad to say about her. She was a very open, accepting, and all-around sweet person. She was easygoing and was always quick to compliment you and encourage you to go for your goals/dreams, far-fetched or not. I just can’t picture her cheating or being a “bad wife” in any way. All lust dies with time and age, all of it. Doesn’t mean you end up thinking the person’s ugly, but keeping the lust going forever is like keeping the same favorite song all your life. It just doesn’t usually work that way. So for Larry to throw away such a good person just because she got older (never got fat like most of us do, though) for a 20-second orgasm here and a 20-second orgasm there goes to show just how fucked in the head the bastard really is. Well, I want a 20-second orgasm too, dammit, with Nane, but then what? Throw true love away for this smoking, traveling partial bitch who won’t turn her music down? I don’t think so!

I would rather the ped and his bimbo win millions of dollars in the lottery than for this near stranger to get some of the family money. That’s what bothers me. Not where they live, not what they do. Most people would agree that 58 is too old and 21 is too young to have a kid, but that’s their prerogative. If the bimbo wants to be naïve enough to make the mistake of thinking the ped is suddenly faithful and capable of love, that’s her mistake to make. If the ped wants to leave a kid fatherless when it’s only around 20, let him. But mom might as well give a portion of her money to a stranger on the street if she’s going to give it to him, and thus to her as well if they’re still together when she goes. I still don’t think we’re getting more than a few grand each, and yeah, it’s mom’s money, but it still bothers me. This child-woman is simply not “family.” Not like her kids and the other spouses, though I don’t know about Mark. Knowing my sister’s fondness for abusive men I don’t know if he’s any more deserving than the child-woman. It’s just hard to believe mom wouldn’t leave something to the grandkids as well as her parents did, even if it’s only a grand or two. Well, if the pervert hits half a dozen more home runs before mom goes, that’s less money for those who deserve it and who may need it most. We’re the family underdogs most of the time, not them. I’d be willing to bet just about anything that they’re doing damn good for themselves even though I don’t know what the hell it is they’re doing and I don’t care. The world is twisted and unfair. But since no one’s gonna boot the bun out of the oven and castrate the ped, all I can do is hope the will excludes grandkids. The child-woman would get enough of it as it is.

I’m not as pissed as I was last night, though I am still pissed. My God was I pissed last night, though I’m amazed at just how much pumping iron released a lot of that steam. Based on the force and what it would equate to in weight as I shorted the resistance bands to near nothing, I had to have lifted around 200 pounds that’s how pissed I was.

LOL, since being back with Nane, Irene’s dumped me and I haven’t heard from Christiane.

Nane corrected my German, which I’m just about ready to give up on. I’ve learned a lot of vocabulary but I still keep fucking up my grammar.

She surprised me by telling me she once found a nest of mice on her balcony with 4-5 baby mice in it. All were dead but one. So she put it in a box and tried to save it by giving it a few drops of milk but it was dead when she returned from work. She felt sorry for it. I’m surprised she’d try to save it because usually when one doesn’t like rats, they’re usually afraid of them. And mice. But a baby mouse is a lot less scary to most people than a rat the size of a guinea pig.

Speaking of rats, just what in the world is mine doing??? He fidgets constantly. I’m amazed at all this movement given his condition, but I wish he’d settle down a bit more and not be so distracting.

Andy said his mom read the first 30 pages of my book but didn’t like it. Said it reminded her of Danielle Steele and she can’t get into that kind of thing. LOL, it’s the first time I’ve ever been compared to Danielle Steele, but no problem. We can’t be everyone’s cup of tea. It’s a good thing I didn’t print anything for her after all. I really figured she wouldn’t like my book.

He had sort of a backward dream where he went over to his mother’s place and found her dead in her bed. She’d been stabbed in the heart. But before she died she apparently tried to clean up the wound because there was dried blood in the bathroom sink. Then the dream showed how it happened and a girl approached her sliding glass door. Well, the “girl” was really me and I guess I’m the one that stabbed her. Andy said it was a terrifying dream that seemed so real and he couldn’t figure out why I would do such a thing. LOL, his mom’s quite a likable lady. A bit gossipy at times like my own mom, but I’ve always liked her.

Like most women my age, I’ve got some gray in my hair. But dying it is frying the hell out of it so bad that it would look horrible long. So I guess I’ll have to decide what I want most – long and gray or short and brown. Maybe I should keep letting it grow but just not dye it as often.

MONDAY, MARCH 19, 2012 Did some digging out of curiosity on the brother-fucker’s child-woman. Couldn’t find much cuz the two are apparently rather private.

I still don’t know if the “great-grandchild” mentioned in the obit was Jen’s kid or even if Jen really does have a kid, but I was wrong in assuming the brother-fucker and his child-woman already had a kid and were still in MA. The child-woman is “counting down the days till Larry holds their newborn” so she said on a site that suggests she is beyond obsessed with the idea of having a kid. Also, last fall they moved to the Ft. Lauderdale area south of my mother, which explains why he could spend so much time at her place. This was because it was “best for their relationship.” Yeah, I would think so if I’d been committing statutory rape for many years. I would think the child-woman’s family would be on her ass big time about being with someone nearly 30 years older and that would leave her widowed at around my age if they get married, not that he would stay with her that long. I know Larry, a happily admitted slut who’s had a million affairs just while he was with Sandy alone. As soon as she gets a little older, he’ll drop her like a hot potato. This girl is young and naïve in every sense of the word. If he couldn’t be faithful to anyone else, why would he be to her? Or is she just too stupid to realize just what a slut he is? And while we may not be able to help those we love, and some would rather take some time with them than no time, why would you want a baby whose father will be dead when it’s only around 20?

The child-woman looks eerily like a young Sandy; dark and plain. Her FB profile is almost all private with no method of contact present. This doesn’t surprise me as I really think the perve not only abandoned Sandy but his daughter as well. With the exception of sex, he’s always preferred the company of his own gender and I really think he favored Larry Jr. over Jen big time because Larry was a boy. So he would tell his child-woman to close all ports so Jen couldn’t tell her what a fool she is, along with members of her own family.

Even though I’ve only talked to Jen a few times when she was 10 and saw her a few times as a baby, I can just imagine how awkward it must feel to watch her father run down to Florida with someone younger than her and end up having a kid 30 years younger than her.

On the baby site where pregnant women and moms post things about their kids and all that, she’d comment on tons of pictures of baby furniture and accessories and the main highlight of her comments was basically, “I want, I want, I want.” And where does she think she’s going to come up with the money for all these things? The thought of a pervert and some naïve bimbo with a child living it up while my husband and I live like bums in a trashy old trailer really has a way of turning my animosity for God up a notch. They’ve no doubt got insurance while I can only dream of being insured and getting my sleep disorder officially diagnosed and my disability reinstated, but that’s another thing I have bad news about which I’ll get to later.

All this kid’s naïve and no doubt false ideas about motherhood (she seems to think it will be all fun and games) and all her aaahs and ooohs are going to turn to screams real fast when she’s up all night with the kid screaming only to find that the cradle robber she loved and trusted so much is out getting drunk and doing some male bonding at some bar while checking out kiddy ass…

She doesn’t seem to know the gender. Oh, I hope it’s a girl! I really do!

When I ran her name I was sent to a site that accumulates sites she’s associated with or that has info on her, some of which you have to pay for. While she has no blogs that I could find a tag cloud appeared and one of the names mentioned was Tammy. As in my sister Tammy?

The thought of that pervert and his mistress getting any inheritance really burns me up. Tom pointed out that it’s mom’s money and therefore she has the right to do what she wants with it and that we’re not entitled to anything and should see anything we might get as a bonus, but it’s not that easy to think that way. Technically he may be correct even though some would say I deserve it after the shit she’s put me through. I still think the money’s draining fast and that they probably owe money on stuff (why else would we have found online that they took loans out on some things?) and that we’re only going to get 10-20 grand each, but what if I’m wrong? I don’t think I am, but what if she does leave behind a substantial amount of money? Well, I’m sorry but I don’t like the idea of that child-woman getting some of it when she’s not only hated by most of the family and practically a stranger to it but when my husband and I are so, so needy so much of the time. Just because things are going well for us now doesn’t mean it’s going to stay that way. I fear God won’t let it. But because we have struggled so damn much due to a combination of cruel fate and poor judgment call on our part, that’s why I’m all the more concerned about money even when things are going well, and they are. They posted 5 jobs today at work, 3 of which Tom is going to apply for. They’ll be taking apps through Friday. The only ones he didn’t put in for would be a serious demotion for him.

Either way, the thought of the child-woman getting a part of that money is almost as bad as if some stranger on the street got part of it. Tammy messaged me tonight and said she feels the same way and that he’ll be “six feet under” before he gets anything and that we’ll keep him away from it and she mentioned the courts but I don’t see how that would do us any good. What can she do, go to court and tell the judge, “I don’t want my brother to get anything because I don’t like him very much?” So unless she knows something I doubt I would think all it would do would tie up and delay things for years, but what do I know?

“What have you got against this unborn child?” Tom asked me, and that’s easy. The more grandkids, the less for us. I don’t care anymore how selfish I may sound, and maybe they only left things to their kids and not their grandkids, but I would think they’d leave all the grandkids at least a little something. So if the child-woman goes and has 5 more kids before mom dies, that’s less money for those of us who deserve it, even though I still don’t think she has much or that we’re meant to have much money through any source. Expenses are up, property values are down, and I highly doubt they got the store for the fun of it or just to keep active like Dad said. Everyone says that kind of thing. So, she’s not poor, but she certainly isn’t rich. Once you turned everything into cash and omitted taxes and what they owed money on, you’re probably talking 60K. Split between 3 kids that’d be 20K each. Add the grandkids and that could drop it to 10-15K. She still didn’t give me any details, if she knows any (she’s trying to get me to call her), so I asked if she could just give me a rough guess of an estimate. That and his job are going to determine when we go where.

The only thing she said that I don’t agree with is how she “tried” to tell Mom what he said to her and her grandkids but she didn’t want to hear it. Well, as even Tom agrees, 54 is a little too old to be running to mommy when you get pissed at someone. I have always HATED that with a passion when people would get mad at me and then drag others into it and get people involved that didn’t have a damn thing to do with it. As I would tell anyone, if I’M the one you’re mad at come to ME about it or else I’m gone. That, calling me a liar when I’m telling the truth, defending my perps, being a hypocrite, trying to change/judge me, being a liar or not doing what you say you’re gonna do is the quickest way to lose me. It’s ok to go to someone about someone neither of you are buddies with, but if I get pissed at Andy, for ex, I’m going straight to HIM. Not his mother, not his sisters, not his other friends, just to HIM. I just feel it’s best to operate that way so you don’t end up stuck in the he said/she said game or putting anyone on the spot and pitting people against others. I’ve been there before. It only causes more grief. A part of me wonders if I should’ve stayed away, though I don’t regret being in touch with my dad in the end. I’m glad we got a chance to catch up on life once again and that he got to read my last book.

Either way, I’m not surprised she brushed her complaints off. Most parents don’t want to side with their kids or pit one against another. I’m sure she’d have told me or the statutory rapist the same thing. As much as we may like to, one can’t convince their mom to dump one of their kids simply because her other kids would like her to and think it would be a wise idea.

Oh, and she also said the pervie thinks we’re fucked up. Gee, that hurts! Really, I couldn’t care less about what he THINKS. Or anyone else for that matter. It’s what people DO that matters. So he’s welcome to think I’m the biggest fuck-up on earth. :)

The only other thing she said was that her kids told Larry where to go. Yeah, I tried to warn Lisa away from Larry back in the 90s in Phoenix, knowing she was making a mistake but I also knew it was one she was simply going to have to make. Sometimes we gotta fuck up in order to learn our lesson and see things for ourselves. I’m sure countless people have warned the child-woman also, but she’ll just have to end up sorry she didn’t listen, won’t she?

sighs I wish they’d both get hit by a truck or something. Really, I can feel that old familiar rage vibrating within me towards Larry and just the whole damn family drama in general, reminding me of just why I walked away from it all in the first place 14 years ago. I wish to hell that cock would materialize in this room just for 60 seconds so I could knock every last tooth out of his mouth, I really do! But as soon as mom goes and I get my share, however small it may be, I’m walking away from the others forever. I simply don’t need or deserve this shit in my life. And if anyone wants to judge me for it, I don’t need them in my life either. I’m not looking at them as “family.” I’m looking at them as the people they are and I don’t like them at all, particularly the pervert and the drama queen. The rest I could do with or without, though I pretty much have to do without. It’s the only way to break the negative connection altogether. Keeping in touch with anyone else would be like being friends with the mother of the guy that raped you.

OMG, I want to attack Larry so badly!!! The desire is almost physical I am just so, so fucking enraged right now. Thank God I wasn’t there! Oh, I wouldn’t have minded the part where he went to the hospital. It’s the part where I would’ve gone to jail I’d mind. I have so much rage in me that it would be so easy to get carried away and end up killing the bastard if he were in front of me now, and well, I wouldn’t get any inheritance if I were in prison, that’s for sure.

Some would say I should feel this sort of rage for Tammy since she got me in jail, and I do and that’s the main reason I intend to dump her one last time someday. But guys have a way of getting me going easier what with their macho, I’m-so-tough attitude. IDK, it just makes a bitch like me more eager to take them down a peg or two and get a good laugh at their embarrassment, and I know I could hurt my brother despite the fact that he’s over a foot taller than me. Contrary to popular belief, size and gender aren’t what determines fighting ability. It’s all about fitness, rage and determination. I wish more women were like me. If women were the “angrier” sex instead of men, the belief that men are “stronger” than women would fade quickly. But that’s just life for you – people base things on gender, color, race and size all the time. They believe fat people are the filthiest and all kinds of other BS and false stereotypes.

Ugh! Just ugh! I am so fucking pissed at my brother and his child-woman. I just don’t know what to do. If the pervert was single or he was still with Sandy, I could live with him getting part of the inheritance. But it’s not. It’s a 21-year-old bimbo with a child he’s too old to be having and she’s too young to be having. Again, what the hell was he thinking at 58, that he could replace his dead son?

Where I was finally relieved to know that after all these years I wouldn’t have to deal with family funerals after all, now I gotta deal with not only money going to those it shouldn’t go to, whether it’s mine to decide on or not, but also me possibly not getting anything at all if someone should either try to screw me out of it or it ends up tied up in court for years and the court decides in the end that no one shall have anything. I hope I’m worrying for nothing in this case too, but I’d rather not have things pissing me off and stressing me out so badly. The possibility of the pigs and blacks still coming after me is enough. And the thought of him getting laid off even if that’s looking less likely. Still, I’m really worried about April. If we can get to May without the pigs and blacks harassing us, I’ll breathe a lot easier. This is still a whole 6 weeks away.

SUNDAY, MARCH 18, 2012 Living in different places has been fun and even educational, but I’m at the point in life now where I would really love to find the ideal place to settle down in and that I can consider our forever home even if it’s someone else’s. But is that meant to be for us? Is there even such a place? It seems there’s something wrong with just about every place we live in and we end up wanting out, though I will admit I’m pickier than most and I won’t put up with some things most people are ok with. Most people are ok with excessive barking (obviously, or else it wouldn’t be all over the place, particularly in the West), but that’s just something I could never get used to. I tried to adapt to it and I wanted to adapt to it, but even quick barking sprees that are frequent annoy the shit out of me. A few barks once or twice a day I could handle. But half a dozen or more “few barks,” or barking fits that go on for hours at a time is just not something I can get accustomed to. I wish I could be ok with any and all types of sounds cuz then I’d want to run out and just rent a 2-bedroom/2-bath apartment. That way it’s someone else’s so they have to be the ones to tend to the yards and spend the time and money fixing whatever breaks. Being sandwiched in with people above and around us would help keep it cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter. If only – if only – I could just be ok with noise and was a heavy sleeper!

Realistically, I can’t just snap my fingers and make myself this oh-so-noise-tolerant person just because I want to be. But I also don’t want to stay here – the dogs, the vehicles, the saws, the well, the lack of thermostat and up duct where the cooler is concerned, the lack of space, the lack of outlets, the DSL…enough is enough! On top of all this, I’m also not so sure Florida would be a smart idea for a few reasons. Yes, I’d like the warmer climate, and yes, I like the idea of living where most dogs are household pets, but I’m sick of moving every few months to a few years just to find out that it’s not quite all I hoped it would be and that we were wrong in thinking certain things would be better or easier somehow.

I know the economy was 99% to blame as far as how rough we’ve had it here, but that doesn’t change the fact that for reasons we can’t possibly fathom, something up there hates us. It “gets” us when we’re most vulnerable, and unless you’re rich, making a long-distance move puts you in a pretty damn vulnerable spot. It’s like leaping from one building to another. While you’re in midair is when you’re most vulnerable. Until you land on that other building, just about anything and everything could go wrong, and if things could go wrong for us they usually do.

Another thing to consider is that no climate is perfect and no neighborhood is 100% quiet all the time. So maybe I should aim to make the next stop the last stop. At least in an adult community, even if there is some barking and excessive company at the neighbors, we’ll have the convenience of the city without the circus. I miss being able to drink tap water and get mail delivered right to our door, and I really miss cable.

The last reason to make the next stop the last is the savings. Think of how much money we could have for other things if we weren’t trying to save 10-20 grand for another move!

Tom got an automated call on Friday where they wanted 20 people for a job in Roseville. Another sign that things are picking up should he get laid off, but we sure hope he doesn’t! Really we don’t want to keep having to start over and over again. Instead, we’re hoping they post those jobs they mentioned posting and aren’t just all talk where that’s concerned.

I have the PMS from hell and I feel like I jumped from a 40C to a 50D in just minutes. :( But relief isn’t coming till Tuesday. :( I gained a ton of weight yesterday, though I suppose some of it is water. But if I do it “right” and I get this water off and then continue on with my diet and exercise, I’ll lose the weight, right? Not! Obviously, something’s gone coo-coo with my thyroid. I just hope I don’t have to wait till I’m 65 to be insured and able to have a doctor run tests.

It hit me that my mystery subby may not be able to reply to me because I have my account set to accept messages and friend requests from friends of friends only due to the troll.

The freeloaders and pigs still worry me and I sometimes think of walking away from my online life entirely, but then I stop myself and say, “Hey, don’t let them control you like that! You’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t let them win or take anymore from you than they already have in 2011 and 2012, as well as from 1996-2003.”

At least they haven’t taken shit from me this decade as opposed to the last two and I intend to do everything I can to keep it that way by not giving them a foundation to build any shit. So I still have to lay low at least somewhat for our protection. If they’re gonna pounce though, next month is most likely since they seem to do something every quarter starting two quarters ago.

Tom reminded me that we don’t know for sure that that was a real cop who emailed me. That’s true. How are we to really know who’s on the other end of the computer? It probably was and I don’t doubt the black bitch went wailing to the pigs because that’s what the vindictive, vengeful hater does. But again, he has a point. What if the Google investigation messages and then the one about making a case were nothing more than a clever scheme devised by her and her friends, particularly her little pig pal? After all, his was a couple of the addresses the second message was sent to. And what if they got a cell phone and opened an email account just in hopes of me contacting one of them? And what if the plan was to eventually try to distort money maybe through some kind of threat like demanding I pay up or get arrested? Still wouldn’t explain how they got the email addy I opened for Paula, but then again, if it was a real cop, how’d they miss my Hotmail addy? Perhaps they sent messages to all the addies associated with Google only since the blog was powered by Google. But the old feistydawn addy I had in Maricopa wasn’t connected to Google at all, so it might have or might not have been a real pig. At least one other than the black pig. I don’t know and I don’t want to know. In fact, any more messages I get from them won’t even be opened. They will simply be marked as spam. I am not going to play their games and I am not going to let them seize control of my life, freedom, and bank account as they did in the past. Ever! I shouldn’t have even opened the last one much less messaged Tom about it. I should’ve been smart enough to know they’d know the message was opened if it was some other pig, and that they’d be tracking those email accounts at least for a while.

Again, it’s pretty sad that they would put their time and resources into me, but you know what? It’s their time and their resources! As long as they don’t fuck with me, they can waste time legally stalking and following my every move online. I’m not going to let that feeling of being ��watched” stop me, though I do still have it very much.

But what the hell is going on with Molly? No more views or posts. Not even any reply to Aly’s trollicious message/comment. I was surprised when Aly told me she didn’t peak in on her yesterday. Why me instead? Because I write more than Aly does? Maybe it’s not really her after all but the mother hoping to “trap” us somehow, though I agree more with Aly’s theory. She thinks the troll’s mommy is just really watching her really closely lately.

It’s almost eerie just how much the child-woman looks like a young Sandy. Yes, I’ve seen pictures of little Miss Stefanie H. Didn’t contact her, though. What could I say? That she’s made the dumbest mistake of her life?

It is sick, though, thinking of my brother with a 21-year-old who was supposedly 14 when they met, and a kid 30 years younger than his other youngest. What the hell was he thinking? That he could replace Larry Jr.?

Most people use the cops to spite those they’re pissed at, but my attitude is why use a middleman when I can just go straight to the source? Besides, the cops aren’t always the friend some people would like to think they are with all the corruption going on out there, and well, running to them has a way of backfiring on people at times same as lodging city complaints. So unless someone was threatening to kill me, I doubt I’d call on the pigs. Probably not even then. My point? Well, when I was in the midst of my grief with learning Dad died and all that I contemplated flying to FL. But not just to help out Mom in any way that a person who doesn’t drive can help. No, I wanted to get the pervie alone and kick the crap out of it. But he not only has the right to fuck up his own life as well as the life of some young, naive little sucker, but he’s also not worth the money or the ticket to jail. I’m simply too much younger and in too much better shape and I know I could really hurt him badly, not that I don’t love the idea of him being sent straight to Comaland or worse.

SATURDAY, MARCH 17, 2012 For many years, mostly due to the type of sleep disorder I have, I have felt as if something up there feels I don’t deserve to make money. I mean in addition to whatever my husband makes. I always figured I wouldn’t have been cursed with this sleep thing if it wanted me making money out of the house, but I can’t even make it at home! :( Book sales are at their worst ever. The last thing I want to do is struggle at trying to make something be that isn’t meant to be. I once did it with the singing, then with the women, then with trying to conceive. While I may’ve ended up glad I didn’t succeed with any of those things, I don’t want to work really hard for just a few bucks here and a few bucks there. Too much work for a tiny prize. If I’m going to work hard on writing it may as well be just for fun. And so Renting Ginny, if I even bother to publish it, will be my final publication. In a sea of millions of books and authors, the odds of making much money from writing are like the odds of hitting the lottery. Right or wrong, fair or not, I simply wasn’t meant to make money anymore than I was meant to be tall and I just have to accept that.

I’m not a great writer. I’m just ok. Same with pretty much everything else I do except for acting, the one thing I haven’t had any desire to do since I was 10 years old or younger. But I know that had I continued to want to do that I wouldn’t have been allowed to do it, perfect or not. As I said, whatever dream I may have today, tomorrow, or 10 years from now, someone else will be destined to realize that dream but never me. Especially if it deals with profiting in any kind of way. I don’t know why I’m not “allowed” to make money but we’re all blessed and cursed in various areas of life for reasons we’ll probably never know or understand. All we can do is roll with the punches since fighting it won’t usually do us any good. I can’t make myself best-seller material. All I could do was my best. And I can’t make people buy my book either. But no one can say I didn’t try. That’s all we can do. But there’s a time to give up and cut our losses, so to speak, when it comes to some things. You try it for a while, you hope for the best, but sometimes it just doesn’t work out and wasn’t meant to be and you just gotta move on to something else.

I don’t know what is meant to be other than just to continue on as a homemaker and a hobbyist, both of which I do love even if it doesn’t generate any money. Keeping our heads afloat is still enough of a blessing in itself. Maybe I should think of more “non-profitable” ideas since that’s what’s meant to be for me. IDK, maybe I should get into photography or something like that but just because I wasn’t meant to make money doesn’t mean I want to spend it either. I want to save, save and save as much as possible for the next poor spell and mostly spend money on just what we need and not what we want.

I feel bad for Aly. Just like Andy’s been unlucky in love and I’ve been unlucky with neighbors, this poor girl’s cursed big-time health-wise. Just when she learns she’s in remission – at least that’s a good thing – she learns that she now may have skin cancer. Is God trying to slowly kill her? I mean if He keeps it up and keeps letting her have to battle one horrible disease after another soon or later it’s going to wear her down till she’s either a vegetable or dead. I wish He would just give the poor girl a break for once, but praying has done her absolutely no good at all. So she just keeps hoping that one day she’ll stop having one thing after another after another…

Something must really be up with the DQ. It hasn’t gotten back to my message yet. Is she trying to avoid answering my question? Or is she really that sick or busy?

Tom has a cold so he’s kind of a crab. I may whine like crazy when I’m sick, but I don’t get all snappy like he sometimes does. It sucks to know I’m next, too. I don’t seem to be able to ward off colds like I did for a decade or so, and when you live like bums in such a tiny place, where can the germs go? So tomorrow or the next day I may have to do some throat scalding and hope for the best. If it gets me in my sleep it will be harder to kill than if it starts while I’m awake like his did. Only his didn’t start with a sore throat. His started with what he thought was an allergy attack.

That’s another thing that still has me angry – we didn’t come here to live like a pair of bums. Yet why have we been so meant to live in little old dives for so damn long? And will we ever really break out? If we do, will it be for good? Or will circumstances beyond our control throw us right back into old dives? The only thing of the past I don’t want to return to is owning, but I’m sooo fucking sick of living like a little bum! Really, it gets so old. I tried to make myself like it and get all excited at the idea of fixer-uppers, but the money you spend trying to fix up old shit could be spent on something newer.

I just miss things like having sufficient space around a bed so it’s easier to make and not having to pile so much shit so tightly together because there’s no room to spread it out. I don’t have to have a dishwasher but I miss full-size washers and boy do I miss having a dryer. But to one day own a full-size washer/dryer is probably just a dream. There are always too many higher priorities and only so much money to get all these things with.

Mail.com is driving me nuts. That service and the program I’m using that runs it so I don’t have to log into them which takes forever is chock full of glitches. Receiving messages in twos, apostrophes replaced with boxes with ? in them – WTF? But I’m also trying to do more things offline cuz I know it’s not healthy to be a computer addict who spends so much of her free time online. No, it’s not that I’ve been neglecting the important things, but I have been neglecting my writing and just because others don’t take my writing seriously doesn’t mean I still don’t. Same with my languages. I really should study those more. It’s just that I’ve been having more and more trouble retaining what I learn and I don’t know if it’s age or because something’s wrong.

I also don’t know what’s up with the troll but she has been getting stranger by the minute. She was back today and she also left just one quick post saying she’s been busy reading and going to Kmart. Nothing about funny farms, group homes or anything of the like. But there’s no way she’d choose books and shopping over following/bashing people online. Is something up or am I just being as paranoid as she is? Just one quick post? Only a few minutes in my blog? That’s sooo unlike her. Is it really even her? Was the last visitor really her mother like I first thought? It sure seems to be her this time around, so then why not the usual dozens of page views and why not the usual half a dozen or more posts ranting about how miserable she is and how horrible her former friends are while she longs for the guy who “elbowed” her? If she has online access at home, wouldn’t she want to spend 10 hours on my blog catching up? She’s only accessed a few entries unless she’s coming in more often with cookies disabled. But this is someone who would always post like crazy and would spend most of the day on my blog, so something’s amiss.

I am so glad Andy isn’t interested in Facebook! He would drive me crazy there and probably embarrass me as well, LOL. He says I’m “hardly” on Formspring. But I’m there a few times a day or more, though even that’s more than I should be. I need to focus on being offline more often. I really do. I just get sick of chatting with the same people every single day even if they’re fun and interesting. Maybe I should check my email less often. He and I sure are graphic freaks, though.

Andy’s SIL printed my first book that was published for his mom to read. She doesn’t have a computer or a Kindle and I guess she doesn’t like the idea of sitting at his computer to read it, so that’s why it’s been printed out. If by some chance she likes it, she should read Renting Ginny next. I really think that’s my best book ever so far.

FRIDAY, MARCH 16, 2012 I thought the rat was going to die earlier. I heard him thrashing around in his cage when I was in the bedroom. I first thought he was sifting through the food I’d just stuck in his cage. Then I realized he wouldn’t have that much energy with the way his health is deteriorating. So I ran out and he appeared to be having some sort of seizure and was making these awful sounds as he was struggling to breathe. I don’t know if he was choking on something or if it had to do with his condition, but I don’t think he was having a seizure after all. I think the poor guy just panicked when he couldn’t breathe. After a few minutes he calmed down, his breathing seemed to return to normal, and he retreated into his burrow and fell asleep. sighs It’s so sad seeing him suffer like this. If he were Jesse’s mutts or not a very good pet it’d be a little easier, but he’s been such a damn good rat. Very smart and loving.

We have been getting slammed with rain. I’m really surprised. I just didn’t think it would catch up to us after all once the weeks turned into months.

Nothing from the troll in a record-breaking two weeks now. She must’ve fucked up badly, wherever she is.

I’m wondering if I should create a new email address now that even the account I switched to is not only getting spammed and scammed almost as badly as my old account (I did stupidly sign up for enough stuff with it in the past), but I’m getting messages in doubles for some reason. It’s always been one of my least favorite email services anyway. On the other hand, I so do NOT want to have to go around and change my email address all over again on all the accounts I use regularly, so maybe if I do create a new Yahoo account I will use that one simply for friends. That way I only have to deal with the one I’ve been using every few days or so.

Worked out hard today. I ran at mostly 4 MPH for 20 minutes in 5-minute segments. I rested for about 5 minutes in between spurts, so the whole thing still took the better part of an hour. Wish I could run a half-hour straight at 5, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be fit enough, or better yet light enough, to do that.

I look so good yet so bad. So fit but still so fat, LOL.

Another mystery subby on Facebook. I mentioned to Tom how I thought it weird that I would get subscribers since I have a private account. Tom said Facebook screws up all the time and sometimes what we think is private isn’t really private. That’s true. I know they’ve made public some things people wanted private before either by accident or just to piss people off. But how did these people find me? We have no mutual friends. I have a feeling that if I ask the second subby I won’t get an answer any more than I did from the first one, so I guess I’ll just have to wonder about it. It’s still a little disturbing to think they may be able to see things they shouldn’t be seeing.

Nane was telling me more about where she lives. Her 1-bedroom/1-bath apartment is 85 square meters, which equates to 900 square feet. Pretty big. That’s what the 2-bedroom/1-bath was on Bell Rd. in Arizona that I had for a few months before meeting Tom. She would make such a lousy girlfriend, though, LOL. We are sooo like night and day, though the sex would probably be fun. I asked if her neighbors were noisy and she said no, she’s the one that’s noisy. Just after midnight, a guy came ringing her doorbell in his pajamas cuz she was blasting music. She said he didn’t even greet her or anything and just said, “Are you completely out of your mind?” She said she feels like she’s living in a graveyard and loves it when her neighbors are partying or out hanging on their balconies cuz then she doesn’t feel like she’s the only living creature on the block. As anyone who knows me knows, though, I’m just the other way around. When I’m home I don’t want to know the outside world exists! Not your dogs, not your music, not your vehicles, not your TVs, not your kids, not your grandkids, not your friends – I don’t even want to hear you fart, burp, cough, sneeze or hiccup!

Andy’s getting too Marie-like only without the paranoia. He lives online and constantly wants to chat on Formspring. He doesn’t pressure me or anything like that and he knows I’m not as into it as he is, but I just wish he’d get other hobbies. Better yet I wish he would find love and try sleeping sometimes. The guy never sleeps! He hasn’t slept since Wednesday night and when he does sleep, it’s usually only in 4-hour intervals.

I wish I could stop worrying about the pigs but I feel “watched.” I’ve asked Tom a few different times if he thinks they’re watching me on a daily basis and his answers have varied from “I don’t know” to “Yes” to “We’ll never know.” He assures me that if I don’t do anything wrong (and I’ve been being super careful – no unsolicited email, nothing that could be perceived as racial/threatening) I’ll be ok, but I still worry about being set up. I still can’t believe this is simply over spam and not because they didn’t fabricate “evidence” to throw in and add to it since it’s the bulk spammers they usually go after, but he said that that’s why I wasn’t arrested; cuz I only sent a few dozen and not thousands.

But how do you “make a case” out of a few dozen??? They had to have done something, and like I said, I feel stalked, watched, and censored that I feel like I’m lacking in the freedom and the full ability to be myself. At least in the online world. In my word processor, I can be more open about these fears because not everything in it goes online. Not even in private accounts since nothing online is really “private.” If they really are following my every move, damn is that both sad and scary! If they suspected I’d killed someone I bet they wouldn’t give a damn then, would they? Really, would they be interested in me then?

I think I’d rather someone “watch” me by watching the place or my movements in public. If someone were outside watching this trailer, they could see the trailer and they could see me if I stepped outside, but they couldn’t see what was going on inside. Online, however, every single move I make – every chat, every blog, every picture – is for any “legal stalker” to see.

It’s still sad that I have to feel like a fish in a bowl with my every move scrutinized while there are murderers, rapists and child molesters out there they don’t even look at. What’s wrong with this world???

Or maybe I’m just being paranoid and the cops aren’t always as corrupt or as dumb as I think they are, and they’re smart enough to pay more attention to dangerous people that have actually done things instead of just said things to piss people off. Maybe they don’t spend their days watching, waiting, and hoping to “get” me should I screw up somehow and do something wrong. Hey, it’s a business like any other after all. The more crime, the more work for them, and so the more money they and the state gets. It’s not just about feeling powerful and like they’re in control, but how they make their living. If no one ever did anything wrong, they’d be out of a job. But wouldn’t any black or Mexican pig just love to bring a white bitch with a big old honest mouth right down, huh?

Well, there may be more of them than me and so I couldn’t just run down to Arizona and beat them all up, but I can run instead of allowing myself to be railroaded if they decide to jump out of the shadows with whatever digitally enhanced bullshit they want to create. And yes, I wonder about these online happenings and am suspicious of everything from spam, scams, mystery subbies, hackings and more. My Thoughts blogs always have more hits registered on their internal unique hit counter than TIP has. I’m hoping they’re just BOTs that Thoughts is counting but TIP isn’t, but who knows?

THURSDAY, MARCH 15, 2012 My wonderful hubby was kind enough to help me with the book I am ever so slowly working on and which may never get written after all, regarding compensation for survivors of plane crashes. As I told him it almost makes me want to get into a plane crash so long as I didn’t get too beat up from it, LOL. They get big bucks!

Tom will have a huge paycheck this week if he works Saturday like they’re talking about. It won’t be a regular thing, but they’re kind of busy now. At the start of today he said things were so slow he wondered what they’d do all day. Then tons of orders and other work came in. I guess they have companies worldwide that fix broken electronic parts and many departments there deal with well-known brands like Motorola, Cisco and companies like that.

I hope it’s not just an illusion or something above out to tease us cuz it really looks like this is the year he really will get a permanent job, we’ll finally be insured, and we’ll get to live in a real house that just might not be nearly as old as my mom and where I won’t have to deal with other people’s animals. I hope their medical/dental plan isn’t too expensive. Sometimes these so-called “plans” cost so much that you’re not really getting much of a deal.

Speaking of Mom, I called her today to let her know the urn arrived and to see how she was doing. “Everything’s all wrong,” was all she would say. She hinted at it having to do with paperwork, so I guess that dealing with taxes and other things that would require copies of Dad’s death certificate is a real hassle.

Got to chat with my special buddy in Europe earlier. :))) She’s looking to refurnish her bedroom. She also said she has a “Gestenkorn” on her eye and don’t ask her the word for it in English cuz she doesn’t know. I looked it up and got “barley field,” WTF? LOL

Still loving the support and comfort I get from my new airbed, even if it means that now I gotta always be paranoid of leaks. I should get another one as a backup soon.

There was a break in the rain today, which meant I had to turn on sound machines to drown out the fucking mutts. Yeah, you fuckers, we won’t always be neighbors!

I worked my upper body today so that I could give my legs a day to recover from their latest muscle injuries. I pulled something in one of my quads.

I may not have a double chin but I sure have some seriously fried hair. It’s as dry as it was when I smoked or got carried away with the straightening iron. I’m sure it’s from dying it.

I noticed I have a subscriber on Facebook. Hmm… wonder where they found me and why they’d subscribe to someone whose account isn’t public. I’ll probably return to public blogging as myself after I get a few more months off from the troll and hopefully forgotten about, but I’ve decided to keep writing on Facebook as well. I can’t post sparkly, animated pictures, but I don’t want to keep driving some of my regulars too crazy by changing sites too often, and this setup actually works out well. That way I can share things with my closest friends and customize who sees what posts. This isn’t something I can do on blogging sites where my only option is to set it to friends only when not all of my friends would care to join the site in the first place. So, those of my most loyal FB fans need not worry about having to bookmark a new site. Any links I share to other places I write at will be strictly optional and a matter of choice as to where people prefer to follow me, though I may one day go public on FB.

I messaged the subscriber to ask how he found me, and Maliheh as well since the guy’s in Missouri and she used to live there. Haven’t heard from either one as of yet, but I’ve pretty much come to realize that no matter how often Maliheh promises to keep in touch more often, it ain’t gonna happen, LOL. That’s ok. Especially since I have Nane again and I seem to be more into her than Maliheh these days, though I don’t know why. Maliheh and I know each other better and Nane’s more likely to dump me.

Too bad Tammy never did start her own journal. I would’ve loved to get a kick out of whatever overdramatized bullshit she came up with. Well, if it wasn’t purely imaginary, that is. I’m sure the bulk of it would be her physical woes.

I had my own woes earlier with my molar stinging. This is the one next to the one that was pulled. Second bottom one in from the back left side. It took 3 pain pills, one ear oil treatment (just in case that’s part of it), one mouthful of peroxide, and some Orajel to kill it. And of course having PMS makes me all the more sensitive to it. :(

Things are really looking up for us. I’m just a little worried about the pigs and April cuz they seem to love to do things in quarters. By vanishing from public online like I basically have, I don’t give them anything new to add to whatever old crap they fabricated on me, but I realize that with the proper know-how and determination, anyone can make anything look like whatever they want in the digital world. Scary, but nothing I can really do about it in the end. I haven’t done one thing illegal online to this sick bitch, but like I said, they can make it appear however they want. I can’t stop them from coming after me if that’s what they still have in mind. I can only make them sorry if they do.

I gotta laugh at the thought of Mommy Dearest, if that was really her that checked out my “secret” blog, trying to comment about it only to find she couldn’t. That’s one of the frustrating things about Thoughts, LOL. If someone’s blocked you, you have no way of knowing it unless you try to make contact, and Thoughts lets you waste time trying first, then they tell you that you can’t contact that person instead of saying so as soon as you go to compose a message to them. I just can’t believe she wouldn’t have wanted to maybe make more bogus threats or just rub in the fact that she knew it was me. But I was smart enough to block her account up front:)

On the other hand, the mother’s account doesn’t show any activity— since February 5th. Would attempted activity not count? I guess not if it was her and she did in fact try to comment.

I chose not to block Molly to confuse her even more by denying it was me if she ever finds and contacts me. I figured if I blocked her up front it would look all the more like I was who I am.

There’s always the chance the last visitor from that household was Molly herself, but I can’t believe she wouldn’t run and rage about it in her own journal and threaten to report me to the Thoughts staff even though I didn’t use her name. As Aly said, she wouldn’t go so many days without logging into at least some of her accounts, and this visitor showed up two days after all activity from Molly ceased on March 6th. That’s why I think it was the mother. Molly would’ve also opened every single entry and not just a few. She would’ve spent all day and night catching up and not just 15 minutes. She’s gotta be locked up somewhere.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14, 2012 Slept great and woke up without a hint of a backache. The cold woke me up a few times, though, so I’ll have to slip the “ice guard” back underneath the sheet and mattress pad. I don’t know why, but airbeds are cold to the touch for some reason. It’s great for summertime, but not now. It’s in the 50s and raining steadily.

Anyway, I love my new bed immensely and will never again sleep on foam if I can help it. Regular foam is bad, but memory foam is worse. I don’t understand the craze over memory foam. Having a memory foam pillow such as I do is fine, but sleeping on a memory foam topper/mattress night after night will really wreak havoc on one’s back and cause them to overheat as well since you sink down so far into it and the stuff works with body heat. It was almost as hard to get up out of as a waterbed can be.

I lost a pound since being back on my diet. I’d kind of worry if I hadn’t after having just 1200 calories, running a few miles, plus all the other stuff I do. My pulled muscles are recovered enough to work my arms and abs today in addition to running. Yesterday I burned 200 calories on the treadmill. Today I might fry 300 cuz today’s meal has an additional 100 calories in it.

I’m also going to dust and vacuum the living room and try to tackle more of my book. The one I’m writing, I mean. The one I’m reading will be for when I’m working out or before bed.

Last night was the first dream that may’ve included my dad since he died. Can’t swear to it but it seems like he was paying for him, Mom, and I to see a movie Kate Jackson was in.

Why was there a yellow jacket in the bathroom window just now when I got up to pee? I hope there are no new hives close by.

Later…

Another day of rain and quiet. Not sure what’s better – warmth and noise or rain and peace. The cold wet days are supposed to go on throughout the rest of the week and maybe even into the weekend.

I may have to take tomorrow off from working out. My legs and hips are all messed up right now, LOL, from running too fast for too long. I’m not quite fit enough yet to sustain a 5-MPH run for long periods of time. Actually, getting some weight off would help more than getting fitter. I’m still pretty fit. A 5-MPH run is sort of like stepping to the beat of windshield wipers turned up high. I had to stop at 175 calories burned because by then the only thing burning was my legs. My left leg is ok but my right quad muscle is pulled (man that thing’s bulging!). I also felt a bit dizzy. So today’s total running time was only around 20 minutes, though I did walk a little of it and sometimes I ran at just 4 MPH which is more like a jog than a run. It will be nice when I can go even longer at 5 MPH cuz then I burn 20 calories a minute. At 3 MPH you barely burn 5 a minute. But getting into better and better shape is a slow process.

It’s nice to be able to walk by the mirror and like some of what I see. There’s still plenty to complain about, but as fat as I still am you can definitely tell that I work out. It’s really the only way to get the weight off at this age unless you can stand to be hungry, though I’m hungry enough at 1200 calories.

I would probably still want to work out even if I was 100 pounds, something I could never reach at this age due to my muscle mass and curvaceous shape. Those with boyish shapes are more likely to get down that low, but not Miss Peaks & Valleys. But thin or fat I like being fit and the energy working out gives me. I also take pride and comfort in knowing that if some jerk messes with me, chances are I’d hurt him badly.

Later…

Dad’s ashes arrived today in a very beautiful urn. It can’t be opened and you can’t see the ashes. You can feel them moving around inside, though. The urn is small at 3” tall and 2½” wide, but lovely. It has colorful leaves and butterflies on it with gold outlining against a black background. It came in a green cloth-covered box with an obscure design on it. He sits on the bedroom dresser for now. I thought it would seem weird having dad around in this sort of way, but it doesn’t. What is strange in an ironic sort of way is that for 18 years he pretty much decided where I could go. Now I decide where he goes for what I hope will be longer than 18 years.

They told Tom today at work that they’re shutting down his department in a few weeks. This would’ve alarmed him if it weren’t for a few things. One, I haven’t had the kind of nightmares that suggest trouble ahead. Two, it’s not being shut down due to the company losing business, but because they want to move and combine certain departments. Three, they’re going to be posting tons of permanent job openings soon, one of which he hopes to snag within a few weeks.

What was really encouraging is that one of the supervisors told him he was disappointed when they decided not to hire anyone for the job Tom recently applied for because he wanted Tom to fill that position, and to be sure to reapply for it since they’re going to re-post it.

We don’t want to get our hopes up too high, but we’re not going to expect anything either. At least I’m not. All my husband’s wanted for nearly 5 years now is just a fucking job. Just a lousy job he can count on with normal benefits, vacation and holiday time. Yet the simplest things in life have been too much to ask for. I learned a long time ago it’s always best to hope for the best but to assume the worst. Think positively and you’ll be more disappointed if things don’t work out than had you not thought positively. Don’t think positively and you’re doubly delighted if things do work out.

Either way, if he can get a permanent job with benefits and that pays well enough, Florida would be worth putting on hold, not that we have the money to get there now anyway or that we necessarily ever would. I really meant it when I said I didn’t want to move with any less than 20K after the disaster we went through the last time we changed states, and I don’t expect to ever be able to save that much. If we did it would take a very long time. Then again 10-15 grand would be ok if he were retired. Until and if I see differently, though, I gotta assume he’ll always be a temp without benefits. I hope this doesn’t happen but I realize that God could “let” him get laid off and then be stuck on unemployment for months and then only be able to get a shitty-paying temp job. I hope He will be kinder to us than that and realize we’ve gone through enough crap in life and have struggled enough, but God isn’t usually our friend. Then again, He doesn’t hate us that much, right?

TUESDAY, MARCH 13, 2012 Last night Tom was worried about the idea of me having a heart attack since my left arm hurt. I laughed at the idea, of course, though I took the aspirin he suggested I take. Today, though, it’s plenty obvious that the “heart attack” is definitely pulled muscles. I may work out, but it isn’t every day I lift and carry old mattresses around.

Today is cold, rainy, and definitely won’t hold a 4-hour sawing session for me to have to either listen to or drown out with sound machines. Just what the hell is it they’re doing up the hill??? They must be building something cuz even in this forest they’d have had to run out of trees to cut by now as this has gone on steadily for the last 6 months. Besides, I can tell by the sound of it that they’re not cutting trees. This is something they’re building. A stable for horses? A shed? Something else? I just wonder when they’ll go over a week without sawing. When we move?

No motorcycles today either. :) No guarantees on the barking, though.

I’m definitely not in the mood to work out today, but I’m going to anyway. I’m just going to run, though, and let my arms and abs rest. I’m now able to go a few miles in a half-hour. :)

I feel like it’s 50° in this room when in fact it’s 70°, so it’s the ideal temp for working out.

They asked him if he’d be available to work Saturdays. We’d take this as an encouraging sign if he hadn’t already been asked this a million times. March and April have me nervous. March 22nd was his last lay-off. April will mark 6 months of smooth sailing, the longest we’ve been allowed to go so far in Cali with things going well for us. Will we break our record?

Later…

My nails look kind of yucky and I can’t stand to leave them unpolished. Ironically enough, though, that’s part of what makes them look bad.

The new bed arrived and I will be sleeping in heaven tonight! Tom and I were setting it up a little while ago.

For a while now I was worried my computer was hijacked because I kept hearing this sound that I thought was the hard drive cranking away like crazy, but it turns out that one of the fans has gotten a bit loud. Tom installed a CPU temperature monitor on it and all seems to be running well.

I ended up hearing not one single sound today. I really thought I’d hear at least some barking and maybe the landlord’s truck, but instead, I heard nothing but the rain and the wind. I loved that much, but not the cold. Too many more days of this and I won’t mind going back to hearing chainsaws and other things. I like rain, but I despise cold with a passion! It shocked me to learn that Nebraska was in the 80s. I guess right now only NorCal is being picked on, but Mother Nature has a way of sweeping across the country. She’s just starting from left to right this time. :)

The troll must have been in the funny farm for the last week. There’s no way all of her accounts wouldn’t have some activity for this long. Besides, if she can’t harass people from home, she runs to the library to do it from there. Something’s gotta be up. Probably threatened to kill herself or her parents after being elbowed and dumped by Loverboy. I’m sure she’ll be back within a week to harass people.

Aly and I suspect that someone appearing to be in her account was a glitch. I think it was the mother, who on the 6th, deleted her stuff and looked in on my blog while she was at it. Then again, there’s been no sign of the troll on Thoughts since before the 6th. So that “last activity” on the 6th, which matches the date I suspect mommy peeked into my blog, was probably Mommy Dearest complaining to the Thoughts staff that she knows I’m talking about her darling daughter even though I never use her real name there. If mommy’s been reading anything after the 6th, then she caught onto TIP and disabled her cookies.

Why don’t you just toss your cookies, bitch! And keep that crazy kid of yours locked up! But as Aly pointed out, past experience has taught us that she always comes back. A part of me misses laughing at the utterly psychotic shit she’d post, but I’m loving the break from her, not that she knows how to get a hold of me at the moment. What I don’t miss is her trashing Aly in public with real names. Maybe she’s finally learned that she’ll get ratted out to Mommy whenever she does that. Then again, the mother’s just as fucked and Aly’s given up on getting any real help from her. Especially when she told Aly to let her know if she bashes her again, then when she does, she gets told the troll’s behavior is partly her fault. Argh!

Tammy messaged me saying that the reason she hadn’t written was that she’d been sick. She got sick in Florida, something I do every time I go there. I think it has to do with the sudden climate change. She said the flight back was bad that’s how sick she was, and even two rounds of antibiotics couldn’t kill her ear infection since she has no immune system.

Then it was off to bitch about how sick Larry is and something about wishing him and his fucking 21-year-old bitch, who wanted to be the first of her friends to get pregnant, nothing but the worst.

Ok, so let me get this straight. We live in an era when it’s not “hip” to be a mom as opposed to a career woman and while most men won’t even let their own wives get pregnant, my brother-fucker gets this child-woman knocked up??? But I thought the “great-grandchild” was on account of Jen. Either way, it’s sad. Just sad. Most people under 30 – make it 40 for the extra immature – are simply too young to end their lives in parenthood. There’s so much to learn, see and do in life before you bury yourself in diapers, sleepless nights, and babysitters. But it’s their lives to stunt and throw away. So what if stupidity usually breeds stupidity, and so what if it’s scary to think that these “children” will be running the world tomorrow?

She also said they have nothing to their lives and are nothing, but like I said before, he must be doing at least somewhat good in order to take that much time off from work to be with Mom. Besides, I know how God works. He blesses the assholes and lets the good people suffer from poverty or diseases and all kinds of shit. Yes, the brother-fucker lost a son way back when, but I can’t believe the guy has ever had any major health or financial problems.

Lastly, she said someday judgment will come his way.

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking like how she says Dad is with us and looking after us. Again, how can we know this for sure? And if Tom were laid off again, does that mean Dad’s not looking out for at least me???

I haven’t heard back from her but I got up the nerve to ask if she knows what’s in the will. Right or wrong, selfish or not, I can’t help but be curious. I still don’t expect much. It would totally go against what has always seemed to be in our cards. We know we can have up to 10K because we’ve gotten/won around that much before. But why would we have spent so much time struggling if we were suddenly meant to have money? IDK, it just seems as odd as Tom one day waking up short and me waking up tall. It just doesn’t seem to fit God’s so-called “plan” for us. He obviously wants us to suffer most of the time. He has allowed us to be beaten over the heads with money so badly, so many times. Why would this suddenly be it, only to get even better after mom goes, if you could really call that “better?”

I also don’t think they have much money because of the store and medical costs they’ve had to deal with that Medicare doesn’t cover. I think they once had a lot of money, but since property values go down, that would reduce the will right there. Also, I still can’t believe they would be working in their 80s just for the fun of it, and I know how expensive medical costs can be, so I don’t think they have much anymore.

I still say “they” even though it’s just mom now.

I don’t think Mom’s poor, but she’s probably only just a little comfortable. Time will tell, though a part of me would rather both my parents have lived on despite the abusive history. It’s the siblings I could really do without!

Although I shouldn’t feel bad for her after the shit mom did to me years ago, the poor woman has had lung and breast cancer and God knows what else is going on with her. Then again, maybe she’ll be like Tom’s mom and just keep living on and on and on. Not likely, though, since there was only a 1-year age difference between my folks and not an 11-year difference.

Oh, and I don’t know what Tammy was thinking but she tagged me in a photo I’m not even in. It was this picture of her kids, her stepdaughter and Mark, which I’ve seen before. The poor girls are so huge they almost look like overblown sex dolls with bad hair.

MONDAY, MARCH 12, 2012 Although there is a leak for sure in the airbed and I ended up bottoming out by the time I got up, I awoke with absolutely no back pain whatsoever. I also didn’t overheat. The 4” memory foam topper was causing me to overheat with the way half of my body would be sunk down into the mattress. Because it was like being in a bowl it would really retain body heat big time. I started to wonder if it was hot flashes but knew I was still a wee bit young for that.

Back when we arrived in Oregon in our little RV, we picked up a $25 air mattress since the RV’s cushions were old and worn. I thought it was the most comfortable thing I ever laid on. All I wanted to do the day we got it was lie in bed and read all day, LOL. “Cheap shit” or not, I decided to get what I personally find most comfortable and so we ordered a full air mattress for just $20 on Amazon.

We have a full-sized raised airbed in the shed, but it’s too high for putting on top of the platform and we don’t want to dismantle the platform and have no place to put it cuz the place is so tiny. I also don’t like it because it not only tips when you get close to the edge, but it has built-in pillows. I like my own memory foam pillow.

The only negative is that these cheap airbeds do spring leaks quite easily. But I’d rather spend $20 once or twice a year to get what’s most comfortable than the $1200 we so stupidly wasted on a not-nearly-as-comfortable Select Comfort bed in Arizona.

Foam is just a real backbreaker for me these days. I never should’ve gotten this mattress as I did 7 years ago, but I was younger then and could handle it better. Foam breaks down over time and so it now sags in the middle. The only thing that won’t sag in time is air or waterbeds. Everything else pretty much goes to hell and doesn’t come back. So I’m probably going to forget the idea of getting a coil mattress after the move that still may or may not happen. I just wish the airbed I’m getting was as thick as a waterbed mattress instead of like a garbage bag, but that’s why they’re so cheap.

I’m going to keep the topper underneath the air mattress so that it boosts the whole thing up to a normal height. The platform itself is only 9” high. This way the sheets fit better, too. The original mattress made of mostly regular foam is now out on the futon.

Nane surprised me with a chat yesterday before she went to bed since Jim had to leave early. She didn’t get the books I sent her after all. She really wanted to read A Rainbow in Munich, but since she doesn’t have a Kindle, I emailed that, plus the 3 other stories she inspired a character in. I hope she likes them!

SUNDAY, MARCH 11, 2012 I have asked myself: If we do get into an adult community and it ends up just as noisy as the mainstream, then what? Where would we go from there? I guess the best thing to do if we really are so destined to live in noisy environments, would be to strive to buy some trashy old trailer in some trashy old trailer park. That way there would at least be no rent/mortgage. Just a small fee for the use of the lot it was on, and that can’t be more than a few hundred a month.

Right now, though, we have to figure out how to stop this lower back pain I wake up with so often. I pulled the 4” all-memory topper off to see if sleeping on just the original 4” regular foam and 1” memory topper would help since that is firmer and doesn’t sag as much, but it doesn’t.

It seems the only types of mattresses I don’t have problems with are water and air mattresses. I’m hoping that if I got a coil mattress that would solve the problem but since I don’t want to spend money until after the move, we dug the old air mattresses out of the shed and will see how my back does with that if it doesn’t leak. We set it up on top of the original foam mattress so that if it does spring a leak in the night I’ll at least bottom out on the foam and not the wooden platform. To me, air mattresses are way more comfortable than foam, but I’m getting older now and I just don’t know if my back can take the kinds of mattresses I used to sleep on. I just know that foam, memory or not, is a no-no. I need coil, air or water. I did some research and they recommend medium-firm support for lower back pain. I just wish all this back and hip pain would back the hell off. I’m 46, not 76.

Tom and I went to Carl’s Jr. earlier for burgers and fries. We were going to go shopping but decided not to since we’ve spent enough money lately. I still want to take as little from the savings as possible till we get moved. Even then, there are things we’ll need to get for the new place, then there’s still my teeth. It seems there’s always something.

LOL, sooo like Andy… when the telemarketer called him today he asked the guy how many men were in his department. Twenty, he was told. Then Andy offered to give all of them blowjobs over the weekend. The guy politely told him to have a nice day, LOL.

SATURDAY, MARCH 10, 2012 This is the third morning in a row I woke up around the same time. Wish I could do that every day, though 8pm - 4am wouldn’t be my first choice. I’d prefer 11pm - 7am.

Hundreds of crunches, arm workouts, then a half-hour on the treadmill and I’m barely out of breath. Yeah, this is the sucky side of getting into better and better shape and that’s having to push yourself harder. I’m going to have to go longer and faster on the treadmill.

Wow, this is the first time this year I’ve seen 4 days of rain on the 5-cast. But is it imaginary rain like usual, or will it really do more than just cloud up? I still gotta see it rain to believe it.

I talked to Mom yesterday. She sounds ok. The kiddie lover is still there. It must be doing damn good for money if it can take that much time off from work. Yes, God has blessed everyone in my family but me, hasn’t He? Only I don’t think my parents were nearly as rich as some seem to think. I think they’re comfortable but not rich. I just hope our own state of comfort continues. I so do NOT want to go back to the poorhouse. I dread the day it’s back to stressing over how we’re gonna come up with the rent and all that shit. But if it’s happened a million times before, it only makes sense that it’s going to happen again sooner or later, right?

It’s still hard not to refer to them as “my parents” even though one’s gone. When I spoke with my mom it felt sort of weird that I couldn’t ask if Dad was there or at the store and if could she put him on if he was there.

Anyway, Dad’s ashes have been sent so we’ll look for them later on today when the mail place opens. At first the thought of having “a part of him” here seemed weird, but then again I guess it really isn’t much different than having a strand of someone’s hair.

We went to Walmart right before it started getting overly crowded and Tom was a crab. He felt rushed, I guess. He didn’t get enough time to wake up this morning and he felt rushed in the store cuz I was trying to beat the crowds. Most of the time he’s calm, cool and collected, but sometimes I wish he would loosen up more and laugh a little and quit being so damn serious! I love the hell outa the guy and I can’t imagine life without him, but he’s not always as fun as I wish he was. There’s no romance or enough joking and laughing, but I guess that’s to be expected after being with the same person for a million years. No matter how well you get along you’re gonna lose those fireworks in time. But I would rather have a relationship with him than just get it on with a million hotties. Hey, love can stay, but lust never can. Relationships can last, but orgasms are just a few seconds. If Tom and Jim suddenly ceased to exist and Nane and I were suddenly together (in whatever country), we’d get sick of each other too, at least physically.

How did I come to have such a thing for foreigners anyway? Ok, so I always liked them tall and dark, but I think part of what attracts me to Nane (she certainly isn’t that dark, LOL) is that she’s German. Well, it’s not just a German thing. It could be Italian, Spanish, etc. I guess it has to do with my love of languages. Where most people like duplicates of themselves, I was always attracted to opposites. If they’re from England or Australia where they also speak English, it’s not the same. Tom and I may not be opposites in native languages, but we’re opposites in personality.

It’s so nice having Nane back again. Like Mary used to say, it’s ok to get mad as long as you can forgive in the end. Nane never did anything most of us consider unforgivable anyway, and I wasn’t perfect either with my big mouth that gets out of control at times, LOL. So it’s nice to know she’s back even if it means I spend a little more time than I should looking to see if she’s around.

I just wish Andy would get a BF. Not just cuz it’s what he wants, but so that he wouldn’t have so much time to want to chat online, something I’m not quite as into as much as he is. But I totally believe that’s not meant to be for him any more than I was meant to have sex with someone I was totally hot for.

FRIDAY, MARCH 9, 2012 The Time Machine backup device arrived yesterday. Tom backed up his computer and next comes mine but I’ll do it when I go to sleep. What a convenient way to back things up, though! It’s so easy to find things and is set up similar to Facebook’s time machine. So you can search for things by name or within a set time frame. It automatically backs up every hour so there’s nothing to do. It does it all on its own.

Today they’re having a meeting and also a raffle where Tom works where if you wear green you get an extra entry in the raffle. Don’t know what it’s for or what the meeting’s about, but I sure hope the meeting isn’t anything bad!

Got a sympathy card from Eileen. That was nice of her. She’s always been really big on sending cards.

The rat has been eating less and fidgeting more around his cage. Where he was mostly nocturnal, now he’s up most of the day when I am.

The CoQ10 doesn’t seem to be helping with my own weight, so I obviously don’t have the kind of deficiency Tom has. I’m going to pig out over the weekend, as usual, then come Monday I will decide what I want to put up with more – being fat or being hungry. It’s just that I loved not being hungry when I wasn’t dieting and I know it’s pointless to try and lose weight that simply doesn’t want to come off and that would only come right back on. Most older people are heavy because that’s how they’re supposed to be. I just don’t want to keep wasting time trying to be something I can never be again. So many people spend years on diets just to still be fat and I don’t want to be one of them.

Later…

So much for hoping for a peaceful day in the country. No saws buzzing, but plenty of loud vehicles and barking instead. I can’t wait to get away from this guy and his mutts! Someone else came in on a motorcycle that not only didn’t sound like Jesse’s but that couldn’t have been him because the dogs kept on going crazy after they pulled in.

THURSDAY, MARCH 8, 2012 I have been feeling so wonderful lately that a part of me wonders if I should feel guilty for it. My dad hasn’t even been dead for two weeks, yet I feel fantastic! Tom’s feeling better. His job is going well. We have money in savings. My GF is back. Where the future once seemed totally hopeless, there now seems hope for more good things to come. I just feel so great in general. It’s strange, though. I hated it when I felt miserable and now that I’m finally happier I feel guilty about it. I know it’s only because my dad died, though. I asked Andy if he thought I was wrong to feel so good so soon after losing my dad and he said no because life must go on. Guess he has a point there. Besides, I haven’t seen my dad since 1997. I loved him, but we simply weren’t “close.”

Nane didn’t realize my books were for those with Kindles and so she won’t be able to get them. I thought she knew they were eBooks, but at least she kept her word by checking into them. I offered to send complimentary copies to her cuz she’s special. :)))

I tried to talk Nane into having her and Jim visit us since she mentioned wanting a change since she’s sick of TR, but sure enough, they’re going to Morocco for two weeks in May. She said after Cuba in ’99 she’s been against doing any transatlantic flights. I wonder if something bad happened then. I asked her about it.

No views from the troll yesterday on Thoughts but now I’m wondering if whoever viewed my blog a couple of days ago was really her mother and not her. Especially since she didn’t check Aly out. That’s totally not like her and I just don’t believe she wouldn’t make any posts of her own if she were the one in her account.

It’s gonna be slightly warm later on. Yesterday I had to hear from Jesse and the dogs, of course, but yesterday it was mostly him. He was running loud machinery up there, as usual, and I could hear little bumps and bangs down here like he was either slamming car doors real hard or throwing something into the back of his truck. It just can’t stay indoors to save its life! Not unless it’s really hot or raining and it just doesn’t seem to rain here anymore. They say it’s going to next Tuesday, but I know that the most we’ll probably get are clouds and wind.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 7, 2012 Yay, she’s back! Nane’s back! How wonderful it is to have her back in my life again, even if she may be my “Quinn.” Back in the 90s when Andy and I both lived in Arizona, he fell for a “bad boy” named Quinn. Quinn was all wrong for him and he knew it. But even so, Quinn was one of the very few guys he truly ever loved. Then one day the troubled guy took his life. Andy was heartbroken. He took in Quinn’s cat and she lived with him till her dying day. She was like their “child.”

Well, Nane may not kill herself (I hope not!), but she’d probably be all wrong for me even if we were both single and living right next door to each other. What have we really got in common but our love of languages? Nothing really. She had a trauma-free childhood, but I didn’t. We grew up in different countries speaking different languages. She lives in an apartment in the city in a cold climate. I live in a trailer in the woods in what’s at least a relatively warm climate. She smokes, but I don’t. She lives to travel while I find it a bitch. She doesn’t like rats, but they’re my favorite pets to have. She deals with numbers while I deal with words. Hell, we don’t even look alike, LOL. She’s tall, blue-eyed and with light brown hair. I’m a short, green-eyed brunette.

But none of it matters. At least not to me. There is still something that fascinates and draws me to this traveling, smoking, rodent-hating hottie, LOL. I missed her so much! I was totally bummed out during her absence and even when things were good and I was happy, thoughts of her still played on the back of my mind and occasionally she’d sneak into my dreams. I missed her messages as scarce as they may’ve been since she’s a very busy, hard-working lady. I missed making her laugh and telling her what scent I was wearing or burning. I missed the little “hugs,” hearts and kisses she’d put on my wall. It was so weird logging onto Facebook knowing she wasn’t there. And no fun at all. :( Even when she was busy and wasn’t there, she was still there. But then that all changed and I felt a bit of a void in my life. Life is like one big puzzle. While Tom’s the biggest piece of all, many people, hobbies and objects make up for all those other pieces and Nane’s had gotten lost under the table for a while. It felt so good to eventually pick that piece up off the floor and put it back where it belongs. :) Sometimes it’s those little things in life we miss, though I knew I had to continue to let her go if that’s what she wanted. After all, we can’t make people like us.

Like many of us, I sometimes say mean things I shouldn’t say in the heat of my anger or hurt, and I’ll admit I did just that. Sometimes I was pissed, sometimes I was hurt, and sometimes I had a “fuck it” attitude. I wanted so badly to be a cold, unforgiving bitch who just didn’t care and who never gave her another thought in my life. Hey, people do come and go in our lives after all. But I did care and she was one of the ones who simply wouldn’t leave my mind and my heart no matter how much I tried to make her go away. Besides, I’m not perfect either. I say and do stupid shit all the time. I have deleted some of the Facebook notes where I was really going off on some of my fits about what happened even though they were heavily restricted and most of my friends couldn’t see them.

When social networks first hit the scene I would totally laugh my ass off when I’d hear stories about people coming to care for others they “met” online. How could that be? I’d wonder to myself. They’re not “real.” They’re just these mere electronic beings. But as I have learned, they ARE very real. The people behind the profile pictures have feelings and lives and are real people. Sure I’d love to actually meet some of them in person but to me, it’s like I actually have. The only difference is that text replaces their voices and photos replace what I would see in person. But they’re still every bit as human and you can come to care for them very much. When someone told me they wondered if I was in love with her, I laughed. But maybe a small part of me came to love her in some ways. I know it wasn’t just lust. It started with that until I got to know a little about the woman behind the pretty face.

As silly as it may sound since we’ll probably never meet anyway and since I’d never leave my husband (but I may consider a side dish to the main course), I felt a tinge of jealousy when she met her BF. But I am happier for her than anything else for if you truly care for someone you want them to be happy. She deserves love just like anyone else.

As we both agree, it feels good to make up. She’ll always have a place in my heart and I’ll be her friend as long as she wants me to be.

I rejoined MySpace just to see what it’s like these days. It sucks and I don’t plan to use it much. While I was there I looked up Nane and messaged her suggesting we move on and accept that what happened was in the past and that no one’s perfect. One of the very few neat features on MS is that it tells you when your messages are read. Well, I was surprised to see she read the message not long after I sent it, even though it was late at night in Germany and she’s a real night owl who I knew would’ve been online at the time.

This was after I tagged Irene in some notes, knowing they’d end up on her wall, LOL. I knew I was taking a risk of losing her and that she may dump me, but she didn’t. She didn’t even delete them. Instead she “liked” my comment claiming it was an accident. I know it may’ve been dishonest, but I did it because I found the idea of her and Nane reading them amusing just in case I was wrong in suspecting they’d already read them. Well, Nane definitely read them at some point cuz when she surprised me with her first message on Facebook where she said she was sorry about my dad, she signed off with “selfish bitch.” LOL, that pretty much tells me she has been reading my notes.

I grinned like a lovesick teenager when I saw her first message and we ended up exchanging a few messages after that. Both her parents are “only” 72, she said, and she doesn’t want to think of them not being anymore. Her evil ex-MIL died, she also said, and then she surprised me even more by adding me back as a friend. I really thought she’d never ever even talk to me again. Guess I had her wrong there!

What was funny was that Alison noticed she was back and said she hoped she wasn’t sounding rude in saying so, but she hopes she’s nicer to me this time around.

Me too, though Nane did warn me up front that she still doesn’t have a lot of time. She sees Jim on weekends and has a stressful job during the week. Yes, Miss Former Wall Street does have her work cut out for her, LOL, between work, Jim and vacations.

Tom and Jim may be our number one, but it’s nice to think of each other as our number two. If anything a side dish only spices up and adds variety to the main course. :) What can it hurt anyway?

I wonder what Irene and Christiane will think when they see we’re connected again, LOL. Not sure Christiane would care, but Irene’s probably both glad and going, “Uh-oh,” LOL.

I was even surprised to hear from Marie yesterday:) She wanted to give her condolences. So she’s been following my account along with my German goddess, huh? LOL, well I did deliberately set my stuff to friends of friends just for their sake. Just wasn’t sure they’d be interested. I don’t share all my notes with everyone, though, and often cut the sister from them.

I think that’s it as far as my wonderful cyber GF on the other side of the world goes. I’m only going to reveal so much anyway out of respect for her. Trivial things are one thing, but personal things are up to her to share or not to share.

Later…

They say there’s a first time for everything. Well, today’s the first time I’ve been dumped and am actually amused by it. I don’t know why, but something about it just seems so funny to me, probably because I have always sensed this person was/is jealous of my relationship with Nane. It was Irene who dumped me. I told her in a message that we were “together” again. She replied in half English, half German saying she knew but is ending our friendship because we were too different. LOL, that we are! But I have absolutely no hard feelings toward her at all. :) She was/is a very sweet lady and I wish her the best in life just as she has wished for me.

I was talking with another friend who also agrees it’s easy to say you’ll never forgive someone when you’re pissed until you’ve had time to calm down. Believe me, I wanted to hate Nane and I wanted to make myself wish bad things upon her. But no matter how pissed I was, I simply couldn’t do it. I don’t usually “fight for” or “work” to win people over. It’s just not my usual style. But I’m glad I did just that for a few people. They were worth it in the end, even though I’ve been warned against Nane. Some think she’ll probably toy with and then dump me all over again. Yeah, she probably will. But I’ll just enjoy the ride until then. :)

Could Irene’s dumping me stem from the “accidental” tagging? Jealousy? Could be, but only she can ever really know if there’s more to it than just being “different.”

The troll is getting as mysterious as she is predictable. She finally found my “secret” account, but hasn’t tried to contact me. She only spent 14 minutes in it and only read a few entries, according to TIP. I would think she’d have spent 10 hours in it catching up on every single entry. That’s what she would sometimes do even when she was all caught up in the past.

She also changed her profile picture to a shot of her computer but has continued not to make any posts. Makes me wonder if it’s really her, but who else could it be? I just find it odd that she’s been in that account every day but hasn’t posted anything. Totally not like her!

One of her last posts contains a “letter” to Josh. You know the guy that hit her and who doesn’t have Internet access? In it, she asks why he doesn’t answer her calls. Now why in the world would you want to call a guy who just hit you???

Except for having an easier time making it look pretty, I’m not sure this word processor is really all that great. It’s better than OpenOffice and some other jokes out there, but it’s still kind of buggy and quirky.

Tom pointed out something. Something I definitely have to be careful not to share online, and that’s that there’s no point in my feeling guilty about breaking the so-called promise Tammy made to Dad. Dad didn’t ask her to keep in touch with me. She told him she would. So he’s got a point there.

TUESDAY, MARCH 6, 2012 It’s now been over a week since my dad died. I keep hoping for a sign from him somehow, somewhere, as spooky as it may be, letting me know he still exists. Yet I have received absolutely no signs at all. I guess this can mean only one of three things. He is unable to beam back a sign. He has chosen not to for some reason. Or there is no afterlife at all and we simply blink out into total nothingness after death, which is what I prefer most unless the afterlife is much, much better than this life as we know it to be.

Unfortunately, they decided not to hire anyone for the job Tom applied for at work. I still don’t think he’ll ever be a permanent employee there. Usually, if they don’t hire you after the first few months, they’re never going to. I don’t mind him being a temp, though, for the rest of his working years because it’s not only obviously what he was meant to be, but because I’m used to it since that’s how it’s been for almost half a decade, and also, we don’t need insurance; we need dental. But very few employees offer regular benefits these days let alone dental. Jobs with dental are very, very scarce. I’m also used to dealing with dental pain on my own, so I can continue to tough it out until the next tooth gets infected and the pain is so bad I can’t even sleep. So what if it may kill me? I’ve lived a long enough life as it is, and well, I gotta go someday anyway, don’t I? Some risks are worth taking in life. I won’t gamble with my husband’s life, but I’m willing to gamble with mine. Especially when the risks are so low I’d have a better chance of winning the lottery and just paying for everything outright. Assuming God doesn’t have to get a kick out of yanking the carpet from underneath us yet again and things keep running smoothly, I may be able to do just that anyway towards the end of the year. Sometimes I think to myself, “You know, you really oughta just call off the move and do your teeth first. Small, noisy places are what you’re used to anyway.” But I don’t know that I could do that, and yesterday wasn’t that bad. I only heard Jesse come and go twice, but I can’t say how much barking there was because I had the sound machines on. I don’t even know if they were sawing today, but they might have just started as I was falling asleep.

It’s been amazingly warm the last two days. Yesterday we didn’t need to turn the heat on till 5:30 am and just two hours later it was off for the day. Well, it’s now just after 4am yet it’s been hovering at 72° in this room. Strangely enough, though, it says it’s only 45° outside now. They say there’s a 30% chance of rain today, but that usually really means 0%.

I never did hear back from Tammy, though there has been activity within her account so I know she’s been on Facebook reading the news and playing games. She’s probably pissed because I don’t want to talk on the phone with her. This is alright with me because personally I just don’t care. Whatever happened between her and Larry is between them. I don’t know, I don’t want to know, and I don’t want to get involved. I just want to keep the peace until I drop her, with or without an inheritance. Even if I suddenly knew I wasn’t going to get anything (and I find it hard to believe my parents would have a store so late in life if they had a lot of money), I’m still willing to play nicey-nicey till mom goes and that is for mom’s sake only. I know how Tammy operates when she gets pissed off and then vengeful. The first thing she does is get others involved. The second thing she does is twist the truth and throw in lies. Well, I don’t need her dragging Mom into something she may get pissed at me for and then Mom getting on my ass about it. I just want to play it cool till she’s gone and then I will quietly walk away from the entire family for good. And the pain and memories that go with them. Countless times she has bragged about siccing the pigs on this one or on that one that has pissed her off. And while she sometimes may have good reason to be pissed at people, I don’t need the cops showing up at my door because she got pissed when I said something she didn’t like or agree with.

Speaking of cops – usually, any dreams I have of them are unpleasant, but the last one I had was weird. Tom and I were walking through a large parking lot. There was a cluster of pigs in the middle of it doing who knows what. Like half a dozen of them or so. One of them, a guy of around 40 with dark hair and a thin mustache, was standing sort of off by himself doing something with a sign or a large piece of paper. He said, “Hi Jodi,” as we passed by. I looked at him confused as I wondered how he knew my name. I simply shrugged and said hi back. Every day we passed this same parking lot and this same bunch of pigs he would say hi, more in a polite tone than a friendly one. Finally, I said to Tom, “The curiosity’s killing me. Next time I gotta ask this pig how he knows my name,” but there wasn’t a next time.

Anyway, people online piss me off bad enough as it is. Like a certain troll and her enabling mother who’s always full of excuses. Her latest excuse for her darling daughter’s behavior is that she’s coming out of a broken engagement. But as Alison told her, that’s no excuse for her to use her full name in a blog rant. Besides, she’s the one who let her go to a guy she knew was no good for her.

Then she turns around and replies by saying that part of the troll’s behavior is her fault because of what she writes in her own blogs. That’s ridiculous. Just utterly ridiculous! I’ve read all her blogs. Nothing in them is inappropriate in any way nor does it go beyond first names. To say that Aly’s partly responsible is like saying a woman who is raped is partly at fault because she wore bright pink lipstick. How fucked up is that?! But knowing the troll, she no doubt lied and told her mother that Alison wrote some really horrible things about her that she never wrote. She’s also crazy and delusional so she may perceive her posts as being more than they really were, and as paranoid as she is, she probably thinks Alison’s out to get her. That’s another trait of people with her type of illness. She’s written many blogs about fearing that people are spying on her and plotting against her when all we want her to do is just leave us alone. But as we know, she’s never going to learn to leave those alone that dislike her. That’s what she lives for; focusing her time and energy on those who simply don’t care. If her only choices in life were to associate with those who like her and truly care about her and want her in their life, versus those who don’t want anything to do with her, it’s a no-brainer as to what she’d choose. That’s just what sick people do. They choose destruction and hate over love and productivity.

The only good thing is that the almost-as-crazy mother has been keeping her offline, even if we know damn well it won’t last more than a week or two. Someone’s been in her Thoughts account, but it couldn’t be the troll because the troll wouldn’t be in it without posting her usual mythical sob stories. I have no idea who it is and what they could be doing since whoever it is never posts anything.

Amber keeps checking my KB profile even though that blog is private. LOL, I hate to cut her out if she’s that interested in my writing like she has been lately, but these days I’m only using that blog for the stuff I send Maliheh. She loves cats and so I set up the entries there to include cat pictures. The only reason I made it private is that she gets to read things I don’t normally put online. Maybe I should set it back to members only and see if she comes back.

When you study many languages you learn the similarities they often share. Where there’s a c in English there’s usually a k in German – America, Amerika. Words that end with ect in English usually end in ecto in Spanish and etto in Italian – perfect, perfecto, perfetto. But mastering a lot of this damn German grammar becomes a matter of guessing and memorizing since oftentimes there are no set rules. It is one frustrating language!

MONDAY, MARCH 5, 2012 Got a beautiful shiny new necklace yesterday at Target. This one was $20 so it should be a little better quality than some of the cheaper ones. It’s on the skinniest chain I ever saw. It’s a silver chain and has light blue gems glued to a round cylinder. So you always see them no matter what part of it is facing you.

I also grabbed a bottle of bright fuchsia nail polish, which has got to be the fastest-drying polish I’ve ever used. In seconds it loses its shine and dries to a dull matte finish that’s not as pretty as it looks in the bottle, but still pretty nonetheless.

We also grabbed a stand fan to use for working out now that the weather’s going to start warming up. I was using that wimpy fan that goes to the drying rack and that doesn’t move much air. If it did it would blow the clothes off the rack.

So we spent about $45 and picked up our mail, which is mostly junk mail.

I crashed at 1pm and by 4pm it was a sauna in the bedroom even with the fan on and the window cracked. I had to get up and push the window open further and turn the fan up higher. Tom also ran the cooler on ‘vent.’ If we don’t make it out of here this year I will positively scream! Just totally, totally go out of my fucking mind! This is such a hard place to live in if you can’t keep a schedule. The flimsy walls and thin metal roof with no attic makes the place get super cold and super hot so damn easily. It is very hard to control the temperature in here. I miss being in a real house sooo much! But I’m afraid that our lovely God above who seems to think this is all we deserve is either going to trap us here or see to it that we can’t get into an adult community for some reason. IDK, maybe they won’t like that I’m 46 or maybe they won’t like that Tom’s a temp. I’m hoping that won’t come up or that they’ll be understanding if it does. Everyone’s a temp these days.

Tom says he’s eligible for a year and a half of unemployment and not just 6 months, but the longer he’s on unemployment, should they lay him off soon, the longer it will take to move. Especially if the next job is only minimum wage. Besides, they’re not going to want to rent to someone who just started a new job.

I just hope we can make it to an adult community and that it will be more peaceful than this place. It’s usually quiet at night here, but I am so, so sick of listening to those fucking dogs every single fucking time that cock zooms out of here. The barking dogs, the roaring motorcycles, the buzzing saws… I am just so, so sick of it. And the lack of space.

But I do have my concerns about an adult community too…lots of company coming and going at the neighboring houses, sales and religious people knocking on the door, etc. I don’t expect to never hear a sound, but it’s still hard to imagine an adult community being full of barking and loud vehicles. Hopefully, we’ll get to find out so we can move on to the next decision and that would be how much to furnish the place. If by some chance we’re just going to leave the area in a year or two, it may not be worth investing in too much stuff.

My weight is continuing to soar, so next Monday I plan to jump back on the diet wagon. Don’t know if I’ll get very far, but maybe I can at least stop from gaining anymore for a while. I seem to be better at preventing added weight than I do at taking it off anyway.

Andy said his mom thinks my mom’s worth about a million dollars and while I wish to hell she was right, there’s no way. There’s just no way. I don’t think they ever had that much money at their best of times. First of all, the condo, stores and cars probably aren’t worth more than about 200K. Secondly, I don’t remember the name of the site, but a couple of years ago we were browsing through online documents that suggested my parents owed more on things than I first thought. It was a site that lists things like mortgage deeds, loans, repossessed items and things like that.

They lived so extravagantly that they probably squandered the vast majority of what they inherited. Then there’s the cost of hospitals and medications that escalated as they aged. Medicare only covers so much. They had to spend the money on extras. I’m not saying they’re not more comfortable than Tom and I will ever be. Just the fact that they do have a nice condo, a store and a couple of nice cars alone says that. But I still don’t think we’ll get much in the end. It depends on how right I am in fearing we’re meant to be poor most of our lives. As of yet, I have no reason to think we’re not going to be. We have spent so, so much of our lives struggling! Even when he was making big bucks in Arizona, that damn house we never should’ve gotten sucked up so much money. Then I was stupidly blowing tons of money on my doll collection, another thing that was fun at the time but that I later came to regret, up in Oregon. So we were poor when we were and poor when we weren’t. Now that we’ve smartened up and got our act together, I fear whatever’s up there will “get us” financially in other ways. Ways that are out of our control like throwing my husband on unemployment for 2.5 years. I also fear that the more money they may leave us, the more God will have Tammy spite us out of it.

I still think it will be around 10K, 20K if we’re lucky. If we’re “fated” to be poor no matter what we do, it can’t be much. However, I also can’t deny that the hints they’ve dropped do suggest more than it being something that would just help us out temporarily. As long as we can pay for the necessities and never have to go through the fear again of possibly having to kill ourselves to escape starving on the streets, that’s good enough for me. And the right to live in peace without having to hear other people’s animals. Anything else after that is considered a bonus.

Tom said he didn’t want to get my hopes up, but the “paperwork” Mom said she’s waiting on before sending Dad’s ashes and the pictures she mentioned sending, could have to do with life insurance.

Nah, I don’t think so. She would have mentioned it. I think the paperwork is just the usual standard process one has to go through with social security and all that once they’re deceased.

Anyway, I’m going to eat, work out, shower, and just enjoy the next 6 hours of peace before I have to listen to Jesse’s shit. He must be loving the hell out of this drought. We’re like a million inches behind in rainfall this year!

Molly made one single post from the library yesterday on Blogger saying she misses being online but her mother took away her Internet again for badmouthing Alison. You would think by now she would get it – that trashing people means losing her online privileges. But apparently, the little baby just doesn’t get it. It’s one thing to make mistakes in life, but another to keep making the same damn ones over and over and over. Nonetheless, I just had to share the link to the post on Facebook and be sure to set it public for whenever Mommy Dearest thinks her daughter’s magically “changed” and can go online without stalking and trashing people.

She never mentioned the phone number message, something I did end up doing. Oh well. She probably never checks her email accounts and only creates them to create her 10 million accounts on all the sites she uses.

SUNDAY, MARCH 4, 2012 Sometimes I wonder about the things people tell me in my dreams. For someone who’s had dream premonitions and has had people come out and tell her that yes, certain things I dreamt of them doing, having, thinking or saying were actually true, I wonder about these things at times. I think of certain things people I know have told me in my dreams, both good and bad, and I wonder if they’re true at all.

As I have told people before, I don’t mind explaining myself to a degree to those who are curious, but I do mind being judged and told that my way of thinking, believing and doing is wrong. My attitude is that unless you specifically ask for my opinion, I don’t do it to you, so don’t do it to me. :) So don’t say I didn’t warn you up front if you don’t like what’s on my mind right now that I’m about to write about. You see, they say you can’t meet a nice girl in a bar. Well, guess what folks? Sometimes you can’t even meet one out in the country! I live out in the country and I am anything but nice at times. In some people’s eyes that would be because I’ve been thinking and wondering a lot lately about what kind of inheritance I may be in for a little more than I’d like to be. But not because I feel selfish or guilty for it so much as because I don’t want to get my hopes up for nothing. I’ve already been teased from above with the prospect of money before and I promised myself the last time it happened about 5 years ago that I would never let it happen again. But every time I start to tell myself it can’t be more than around 10K since it seems something up there wants us to struggle most of the time, I start to wonder if there’s any chance I may be wrong.

Andy said he didn’t understand why I’d care more about my mom than my siblings when she’s the one, after all, who helped make them who they are and who also made much of my own life quite miserable.

It’s true. My mother was a very negative, moody and domineering person who said and did an awful lot of mean things to us that will leave us scarred forever. Most of the abuse was verbal and emotional, but every now and then she liked to show her anger with the palm of her hand. One time she slapped me so hard – it was at the beach but I don’t remember where; my back or my ass, I think – and it stung and burned so bad it was all I could do to keep from screaming out in pain. I held it in, though, for I knew that would only make it worse.

Thank God I wasn’t like I am now for I would have mauled her. Same with my brother and uncles for threatening and pushing me around the way they loved to do when I wasn’t “fast enough” when we’d be out running errands or whatever. I was just a wimpy, defenseless kid at the time and they could have and would have kicked my ass and maybe even killed me had I tried to fight back. But the modern-day Jodi knows it’s best to stay away from these people because she’s now the stronger one and she also has a very nasty temper when pushed far enough. Normally I would never touch anyone who didn’t touch me first or someone I loved or my stuff. But there are a few people that wouldn’t quite have to go to such extremes to get a taste of my own hand, and worse – my fist and feet as well. Why not? I would only go to jail for 5 minutes since this country loves to take the more serious crimes a lot less seriously than it does the petty crimes. You can spend months in jail for something you say, but you’ll only get a slap on the wrist for beating the shit out of someone. Besides, they’re as white as I am and they’re “family.” I’ll continue to keep my distance, though, but if they could magically appear before my eyes, they just may be worth that 5 minutes. :)

I’m willing to forgive almost anything, but there are some exceptions. I know some folks could forgive their own murderers, but I have my limits. My family and our racist ex-neighbors have made that list of limitations. My immediate family has been abusive and if my extended family hasn’t they’ve at least had big mouths or totally alienated me. So, seeing that my brother and uncles (though one of those uncles is dead and the other’s got to be close) are bullies and my sister is a vindictive bitch who will do anything to spite you and make you miserable if she gets pissed at you, you would think I would be in a hurry to do away with the whole damn “family.” Oh, I am. Make no mistake there. But I’m also that mean, selfish country bitch who, like most people in the world, isn’t exactly going to not conveniently be around with the palm of her hand stretched out to anyone who may want to plop some money in it. The only difference is that I’m one of the few who can admit it, even though I will only share this entry in full with just a couple of my closest friends.

When my sister defended her abusive ex and shocked the shit out of me by proving she was obviously still in love with the bastard even though she’d already moved on to the next man (Tammy can’t stand to live alone any more than I can stand apartments), I had no idea she’d go so far as to call the cops.

I don’t have a problem with admitting when I’m guilty of something any more than I have a problem with admitting I’m innocent of something. Well, I was 100% guilty of letting her ex have it both by phone and in a letter for abusing her and her older daughter whom she had with some loser in Texas. I don’t regret one single word I said either. But you can imagine the shock I felt not only when I learned she called the pigs, but when I also learned there was a warrant out for my arrest on account of our old neighbors. They used a cop friend (my next shocker) to set me up for lodging a complaint against them for noise and vandalism. This was a threatening letter filled with racial slurs the pig shoved in my hands to get my prints on during our little “interrogation.” I had no idea what was going on at the time and was naive to the law other than being dragged into court for prank calls they barely slapped me on the wrist for. So I lost 6 months and thousands of dollars for words on paper that weren’t even mine, and it wasn’t until 2.5 years into the probation part of the 3-year sentence that I was finally acquitted.

So that’s why I don’t think I could ever fully forgive God, my family and the old neighbors. Sorry, but they went a little beyond not returning a pair of pants they borrowed, or spilling coffee on my floor and not offering to help clean it up.

But despite the fact that my mother certainly put me through a lot more hell than my siblings, there’s still this strange sort of connection I feel with her. Yeah, she made my life hell, but she also saved Tom and me back in the motels in 2007. They say God doesn’t give us more than we can handle but He damn near did just that and had she and Dad not stepped in and pulled us out of the quicksand when they did, that’s exactly what we would’ve gotten - more than we could handle. Tom might’ve been tough enough to survive the streets for a while, but if God had pushed me just a little further into the dark I probably wouldn’t be alive right now to write this. I don’t know if it’s literally a “God.” It’s just a generic term I use cuz I don’t know what else to call it.

But there will always be this sort of odd connection I will feel for my parents, dead or alive, just like Tom will feel for his mother despite her turning her back on us in our time of need. Things almost got as bad up in Oregon as they did down here when we first got there. Expenses and problems came up that we simply couldn’t have anticipated at the time.

I personally lost all respect for his mom the day she decided to stop being a mother to my husband and a MIL to me. Especially since we had done so, so much for her down in Arizona. We gave up so much time and money to that woman who for a while became more like a daughter to us than anything else. Nonetheless, I always told Tom it was his mother and his choice and I will support whatever he chooses to do about her. Just because I don’t agree with something doesn’t mean I’m going to try to stop it from happening.

But his family isn’t the kiss-and-make-up type, nor do they hold grudges. They simply “move on.” So we don’t expect anyone to ever contact anyone, but that is probably a good thing. I think that when you accumulate a certain degree of history that’s negative, you’re probably better off keeping it as history and just continuing on your own ways. What can happen once can always happen twice. Tammy’s current man can beat the shit out of her right in front of me and I wouldn’t do a damn thing about it. Not if I’m the one she’s going to turn on. Besides, as sad as it is, there are some women who actually like abuse and my sister seemed to be one of them. Every kick, slap and punch was one more reason to feel sorry for herself and to be the sympathy junkie that she is. Same with Rihanna. Yeah, Chris is a real shit and I hope he hits the wrong woman someday that’ll give him a taste of his own cuts and bruises, but it’s hard to feel sorry for a woman who has more than enough money, support and resources to escape a bastard like that but doesn’t. And why? Because she liked the abuse and the attention it brought to her and her career, that’s why.

Back to that nagging question. How much might I get when my mom goes? Andy’s mom said she heard she got a fortune from her own parents, but how much is a “fortune?” Wouldn’t that depend on a lot of factors? After what we went through, just having a grand in savings is a fortune to me! She may’ve blown a lot of that fortune, though. For years she lived high off the hog while I lived like a little bum in the slums back when I was on disability. She was a very materialistic woman who only accepted the best life had to offer.

He suggested waiting a few months, then bringing up the subject of wills with her but I never could bring myself to do that and don’t think I ever could. I don’t know why, but how do you ask your mother, good mom or not, “Hey, what are you leaving me when you go bye-bye?” Besides, I figure she’ll tell me whatever I need to know whenever I need to know it, and if she doesn’t, she’ll have Tammy or someone else tell me. All I know is that I can’t walk away from Tammy yet, nor can I trust her to give me our share. Hopefully, Mom will be smart enough to have an unbiased and independent person she trusts to do that part cuz if Tammy could rip Larry off, for example, do you think she’d hesitate? Hell, I sure wouldn’t! But last I knew Tammy was indeed the executor of the will.

When mom’s parents died, they had 2 kids to divvy their assets to, while my mom has 3. They didn’t sell the exterminating business. They gave it to her bastard brother. But there was the house and 2 luxury cars. All 5 grandkids got a couple of grand, too.

In my parents’ case, there’s the condo, store, and 2 luxury cars, but I don’t know how much they owe on these things. I also don’t know if they plan to split things evenly amongst all their kids or give more to whoever’s needier which would probably be us. I still don’t expect much, but even if it were just a few grand, well, if the car crapped out or we had an illness or an injury being uninsured as we are, that few grand could really come in handy even if it wouldn’t last long. So if the lady who told me I never should’ve been born and that she’d “cripple” me if I stole another snack or toy from another fellow preschooler has anything she’d like to give me, I’ll take it. It can’t undo the past and I’m sorry she’s suffering right now but still, I’ll take it. Any bit of cash helps. Five grand won’t undo the fact that my mother got rid of me at age 15 so she could have a “quieter” house, but it should get me dentures when my teeth really go to hell. Another five grand won’t undo the fact that she taunted me about my weight (even though she herself was fat) until I became anorexic for a while in my teens at just 85 pounds, but it would get my husband and I to Florida.

I wasn’t locked in dark closets for days. I wasn’t beaten to the point of needing to go to the hospital. But sometimes the “lesser” forms of abuse can be bad enough. They say that a lot of my behavior problems in the past stemmed from this abuse, but that doesn’t mean I don’t try to change myself for the better. Perhaps I should’ve started bettering myself at 18 instead of 28, but I’m always working on it. Even if that means continually having to restrain myself from doing things I know I shouldn’t do.

Later…

As a child, I was the “cutest” little thing most people said they ever saw. In my 20s I was a stripper. In my 30s I was still being hit on or gawked at by almost every man I passed. In my 40s I am old, fat, gray and ugly-looking. Time to make up for those “beautiful” years! And payback’s a real bitch too, as I wonder why some folks in their 50s aren’t even gray yet while I sit here with my hair gunked up with dye at 46.

And what the fuck is wrong with my brain lately? I’m making all kinds of writing errors. Andy’s been kind enough to catch them for me, but it’s still not like me. Neither is forgetting things like crazy.

I called and checked in with Mom yesterday. She sounded a bit perkier. As I suspected, Tammy went back home, but the pedophile is still there. I asked how she was getting along and she said she was able to make her bed. Again, despite the abuse in the past it was hard not to feel a sense of sadness over that statement. When being able to make your bed becomes one of your best accomplishments it’s just plain sad.

She didn’t call me Tammy this time or think I was in Oakland, but she still asked me the same questions and told me the same things several times. She’s definitely not as with it as she used to be. She “lost” her phone after dropping it around the place somewhere so she had to keep me on speakerphone. This is totally unlike her because she’s always been an organized neat freak.

My weight is finally climbing. Yeah, I figured it would. Even my bra is tighter. Fucking 40C tits – WTF? beats head Starting next week it’s Q10 for me and a starting point of 1400 calories with a 200-calorie burn. When that doesn’t work I’ll drop another hundred calories from my diet and add another hundred to my workout. At least I know I won’t gain with the 1400 cals/200-cal burn. But I want to lose 20 pounds and drop to 120. I disagree with Tom who says that’s perfect for my age, height and shape. I think 100 would be more ideal, but I’m only in the mood to lose enough to be more comfortable in my clothes and movements, not to look pretty. I’m ugly, I accept it, and one need not look if they don’t like it. Tom tells me I’m not fat and ugly, but he’s my husband. Isn’t he supposed to say that? I don’t look as heavy as I am because I’m still pretty fit, but just letting myself go is easier said than done. I don’t want to keep having to buy new clothes as I get bigger and bigger. I don’t want to have someone else trim my toenails cuz I got too fat to do it myself.

Alison had it out with Molly’s mother again. Aly was still very polite about it, but she let her know that while she may sympathize with her, she’s still making excuses for her, not getting her daughter the help she needs, and as soon as she messes up bad enough, she won’t waste any time taking action against her.

I don’t blame her for feeling the way she does. That lunatic really makes it hard for people to ignore her, and she’s really crossing the line when she starts posting full names. So now you know why I’m hiding. Not just to protect myself, but my friends as well. If I ever go public again on Facebook someday, the one thing you will never see is my friend list unless I’ve added you.

One thing that was funny was something I saw on Blogger. When you delete entries or blogs it says: Sorry, (name of blog) no longer exists. Well, Mommy Dearest must’ve applied some discipline and restraint on the bitch cuz again her latest round of angry rants have been scrapped. Her Blogger blog was called Molly’s Life. So when you try to access it you get: Sorry, Molly’s Life no longer exists. LOL, yeah, she never had a life.

Speaking of abused girls growing up to be naughty ladies that need to control their own behavior, the dipshit goes and posts her number for the world to see and even her email address. I wanted sooo badly to send an anonymous postcard and say things she likes to say like, “I’m lonely. Help me! I need a friend. Can we talk?” then give her own phone number, hahaha.

I’m surprised she still hasn’t risen to the bait. Someone’s been online in her account, but there’s been no blog activity for a couple of days now.

Also, Nane posted on Irene’s wall: Greetings, Irene, from sunny Munich where the weather isn’t too bad.

Irene replied with: Greetings, Marion (that’s her first name), from sunny Salzburg where the weather’s a little better than not too bad.

Well, I had to really sit on my hands to keep from typing: Greetings, Hündin and Irene, from even sunnier NorCal where the weather’s better than both of yours could ever be in early March! Take care, Spitze Nase and Irene. :)

FRIDAY, MARCH 2, 2012 Weird. Just weird. Not only did I wake up to find not one single email message waiting for me, but there was also no reply from my sister. Something must be going on with her, but I don’t know what. I don’t even know what state she’s in right now, though I had assumed she headed back up north.

Then again she could still be down in Florida dealing with the family drama I’m sooo glad I don’t have to be a part of.

I feel a lot of things right now – anger, sadness, peace. I’m at peace because my father didn’t suffer in the end and money isn’t something we need to worry about right now. I’m sad because I miss my father and know I will never see him again. I’m angry for the same old, never-ending family bullshit and because Jesse wouldn’t let me mourn the death of my father in peace. I intend to do something about that too, when he no longer has a hold on us. Don’t worry. It will be perfectly legal whatever it is which, at best, would probably mean just giving him a piece of my mind which will make me feel a little better. Getting things off my chest in my journal is one thing. Confronting the source is another. Sometimes we need to do just that too, but there is a time and a place for these things.

By 7:30 AM yesterday morning the dogs were already going off, and I’m sure they’re going to go crazy all night long tonight or tomorrow night or both, so I put the sound machines on in advance. I don’t want to even know what’s going on up there. I’m still rather fragile at this point and if pushed and provoked a wee bit too much I just may end up in jail for the same reasons I would have if I’d been in Florida with the “family.”

Sometimes I think it really sucks that I’ll never see my friends, both cyber and not, but I know and accept that there’s a 99% chance I won’t. Well, maybe it’s down to about 95% with Alison because we’re both talking about moving to Florida. It just may be years before it happens, if it does.

They bumped Tom’s hours up a bit, so now he’s leaving at 7:30 and getting in around 5:00 assuming there’s no OT.

The tracking site I was using took away their free trial option, so I plugged my code into my “secret” Thoughts blog and am going to use the remainder of my free year there. I’ve got till June 18th.

I’m really surprised the troll hasn’t stumbled upon that blog yet and figured it was me. I will admit that a part of me misses her regular visits and I kind of get a kick out of the idea of her reading any references I may make pertaining to her, then running and bitching about it in her own blog. But as delusional and as misguided as she is, she probably assumes I’m talking about her even when I’m not. I could say, “Man, that furry little thing is getting fat!” Then she’ll automatically think I mean her when I mean my pet rat.

Even though I’ll probably regret it, I put out the bait yesterday by commenting from this other blog on one of Aly’s posts as if I didn’t know Aly after letting Aly know what I was up to, sure that this would lure her to my blog. Well, unless she read it from the library (though I think mommy’s been letting her go online), she hasn’t been to my blog, nor has she mentioned it from her own blog.

Finally, I left a reply to one of her status updates agreeing that “a smile goes a long way” as she quoted from Aly’s BF.

The stupid idiot left one of her 10,000 email addies on Blogger so I sent an anonymous postcard saying things like she would say – I was lonely, needed a friend and wanted to chat. Meanwhile, I left her own cell number, LOL.

Later…

I haven’t been mentioning the “case” much lately since being preoccupied with losing Dad and other more important things.

Still no warrant out on me that I could see so I guess that means that whatever “evidence” they think they’ve got on me isn’t federal. I just wonder what it is, and again, was the cop even real? I may’ve been dumb enough to bother contacting her but I wasn’t dumb enough to make threats or use racial slurs. But I’d be willing to bet they made some alterations to make it look like I sure did. There’s just nothing they could build a case on that I actually gave them unless our laws are even more twisted than I realized. It doesn’t matter, though. She screwed me once; she won’t screw me twice. I refuse to let her or to be punished for words. Words. Just harmless words. As far as I’m concerned I did nothing wrong and that’s plenty good enough for me. I simply expressed myself as every human being should have the right to do whether we want to hear it or not.

But the thing is that from my experience it seems that the law likes to do things in 3-month intervals, so I’m a bit nervous about what April may bring, despite the fact that being in California should be protection enough and especially since I’m off the grid. It was 3 months after my little interrogation with the black pig that they decided to issue a warrant. It was 3 months from when they arrested me till sentencing day. It was 3 months after they were snooping into my Google records that they let me know they made a case. It will be 3 months in April since they let me know this wonderful news.

But if they have a Plan B to fall back on, what could it possibly be?

Tom just said it couldn’t be federal since no one from any federal division like the FBI came to talk to me. I guess he’s got a point.

I guess I really, REALLY have let the PTSD let paranoia take over my mind completely.

THURSDAY, MARCH 1, 2012 Sent a message to Tammy thanking her for going to Florida and helping out in ways that I can’t. I let her know that while I would never try to persuade others to dump or buddy up to whoever, I still have absolutely no respect for Larry and the hypocrite is still not welcome in my life. Two strikes and you’re pretty much out of my life for good. I let her know that while we have the money to fly to Florida, Tom can’t just take time off from work, I’m unable to drive, of course. So that’s why I appreciate her going there.

For the first two days after learning of my father’s death, I cried on and off. Then I stopped. But earlier I was thinking of him and the tears sprung forth once again.

Tom’s still waiting to find out if he can get a permanent position at work and is also going to be filling out apps for other places that list permanent jobs, even though it’s a long shot. On the rare occasion there happens to be a permanent spot open, especially in this state, it’s snatched up in a heartbeat.

Haven’t been working on my book lately at all. Maybe I can coax myself into doing some writing soon enough. I’m just not sure if I want to continue on with the story I’ve been working on or not.

The CoQ10 is helping Tom feel a little more energetic and he noticed his weight is down a bit. I did some research and there does seem to be a connection between CoQ10 and weight loss.

The rat’s been going stir crazy so I guess I’ll let him out of his cage for a while.

Later…

I swore 14 years ago when I told my brother to fuck off and turned my back on him just like he did to me when I was 21 that I would never let him piss me off again, but here I am all these years later furious and wishing I could rip him apart but glad he is out of reach knowing how badly I could hurt him these days. He’s a fat, out-of-shape, aging smoker and if I lost it on him I’d only end up in jail for assault. So yeah, I kinda have mixed emotions about the cock being out of reach.

I sent Tammy a message thanking her for helping mom. Although I could afford to fly there, without being able to drive there’d be nothing I could do that couldn’t be done over the phone and they know and understand this. For that I am grateful. I also told her that while I’d never try to persuade others to like or dislike someone (in most cases) I still have absolutely zero respect for Larry and he is not welcome in my life. Two strikes and you’re pretty much gone forever no matter if you’re family or if I’ve known you forever or if you’re the hottest chick on earth. I’m hard to obtain for a friend but easy to lose and I don’t care how many people would disagree with me being the way I am. I am who I am, period. I just can’t bring myself to keep forgiving the same damn people for the same damn shit over and over again, but Larry’s the same way so that’s even more of a reason not to feel guilty for the way I feel about the little fuck.

I’m not even sure I feel guilty for not being in touch with the family for a decade. I do and I don’t. I mean, yeah I feel some degree of guilt because I am 46 years old yet I gave my parents just 36 years. On the other hand, I did what I felt was best for me at the time. Same with Andy and I. Perhaps the break was good for each other, but I still feel bad about it. He is easily one of the most forgiving people I have ever known while my sister is the most loyal.

She told me (this is what led to me getting pissed off, though it’s not her I’m pissed at right now) that while Dad’s eyes were still open she promised him that she would always stay in touch with me. I felt bad and even a touch guilty because I know she may very well have made Dad a promise she might not be able to keep because I can’t promise that I myself will always want to stay in touch with her.

“You should treat yourself like you expect others to treat you,” a friend told me years ago. “You don’t bother with those that judge and criticize the way you handle things and the things you say and do. So why don’t you give yourself the same respect? Quit judging yourself, Jodi, and stop beating yourself up for past events that can’t be changed or undone. Just be yourself and handle things the way you feel is best for you and not in the way you think most would find correct or agreeable.”

Well, they’ve got a point. If I’m not going to let others get away with telling me I’m wrong for this or wrong for that, should I really let my own self get away with doing that? Then again, I’m the only one who does and should have that right. Only we should be allowed to judge and critique ourselves.

So I’m going to just let myself feel what I feel whether it’s “normal” or “right” or not. And right now, since I don’t want to go to jail for assault, I really wish my brother would pick up a gun and blow his fucking brains out. He needs to get out of the family and get out of the will (if there really is one). All that cock does is cause trouble. He pisses people off, he pits them against each other, he causes arguments, he lies, sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong, he’s a hypocrite, and he doesn’t deserve a single penny when mom’s own time comes. I know it’s not for me to say as it’s mom’s money and mom’s stuff. She’s certainly not going to dump her own son simply because her daughters would like her to and feel it would be in everyone’s best interest.

Larry leaves nothing but a trail of anger down just about every path that damn little cock travels. Like I said, his being 6’ 2” and having 100 pounds on me couldn’t and wouldn’t save him. But since I can’t bash him into oblivion the best I can do is make him sick or injure him, and I don’t even have to try with the mood-influencing thing. Piss me off enough and you’ll be sick or hurt whether I want you to be or not. You think Molly’s always complaining in her blog about how sick she is because she’s a walking pharmacist and a hypocrite? Not likely! I may be starting to wonder if I’ll ever have another dream premonition again but the evidence is still there to suggest I’m still the “firestarter without the fire.” You know, like how fire would erupt every time Drew got pissed in the movie Firestarter. It’s another reason Nane dumped me, though I don’t know that she’d admit it. I was “seeing” things and learning things about her in my dreams. Things I shouldn’t know and that she never told me.

Ok, let me finally cut to the chase. My sister may be a liar in many cases but I totally believe her when she said that the 21-year-old bimbo Larry brought along with him whom he’s been with since it was 14 was playing Nintendo games in Dad’s ICU as he was dying. She said she would have gone after them both if it weren’t for Mom and Dad.

Yeah, I saw the child-woman on Larry’s friend list and figured that was the “friend” mom said he brought along. Her name is Stephanie, she looks like a young version of his ex-wife, and Larry listed her as “one of the people he loves.” I knew my brother was a slut, but a cradle robber? Jeez! I’ve always been attracted to older women/men myself, even when I was young. But I’d really have to wonder what the hell was wrong with me if I was 14 and hot for a then 51-year-old. What, is this a case of a missing daddy make-up or something like that in this kid’s mind?

I can totally picture Larry’s lame excuse for the Nintendo thing too, saying some shit like, “Well, what else could we do? Life still has to go on.”

Yeah, life has to go on, big bro, but Nintendo games while your own father’s lying there dying??? Ok, so maybe I said it was wrong to judge others, but this is about my father’s final moments. Not about how people think we should be more tolerant of loud, rude and obnoxious neighbors to which no one owes shit simply because they’re black. It’s not about how one may’ve handled an incompetent waitress. It’s not about how one may’ve handled a coworker that pissed them off. Sorry, but something about playing games while someone – anyone – lays dying before you just doesn’t seem right. But that is just my opinion.

She also said something I’m not sure I get that she’ll have to further explain to me. She said, “All 3 of my daughters went after him for what he did to me.” I guess most people would take this to mean her kids physically attacked him for attacking her, but I thought they didn’t even go down to Florida. Regardless, this is why I swore I would never attend the funeral (before I knew there wouldn’t be one). Because I knew that as soon as someone dared just look at me wrong I would beat the living shit out of them. Sorry but I’m just not one you can lay a hand on and simply walk away. My sister is also not only older and out of shape and a smoker, but she has Sjogren’s. She is completely defenseless. But I’m not.

Then again, it doesn’t have to be a funeral. All you have to do is get the family together for whatever reason and if Larry or Ronnie are present, especially Larry, there’s going to be trouble.

Anyway, whatever it is he did to Tammy isn’t why I’m pissed. I’m not close to Tammy and as “wrong” as some would say it is, I am indifferent to her and what may happen to her. I simply don’t care. What does have me pissed is the fun and games that went on by my father’s deathbed, and the thought of Larry getting any kind of inheritance. Again, I don’t know that there will be any to get and I don’t think it will be much if there is. If God really has decided that Tom and I should never have much more than say a few grand at a time, then it’s not going to be much. But I have a feeling that while I’ll probably always need money more than Tammy, Tammy will need it more than Larry. Larry was also a shit of a son who is totally undeserving whether he needs money or not. I may’ve stayed away for 10 years, but I at least had the decency to write every so often just to let my folks know I was still alive. He didn’t even do that much in the 15-20 years he ignored my folks.

Heart disease affected and then killed my father, an uncle, and both my grandfathers. So then why is it that this bastard hasn’t even had a slight heart attack?! That’s alright, big bro, you’re going to be so fucking sick for so long!

Sooner or later the cock’s gonna go up against the wrong woman. One he simply cannot handle. Doesn’t have to be a woman, though, just anyone. God let the wrong Larry die that night back in 1997, and again, I don’t care who gets pissed or thinks I’m fucked in the head for saying so. In fact, right this very minute I am feeling my legs, made strong and powerful from running and fantasizing about them connecting with great force against that damn prick’s throat. Think I just work out to look and feel better? Uh-uh, I also do it for any punks with the wrong idea, female or male, that is within reach. :) I wasn’t in the Funny Farm in the early 80s for being “funny” in any way. Try scary instead, though most of my destruction back then was against myself.

I think part of why I’ve come to love Maliheh is that I know I can say this shit to her and she’ll understand. She’s not just good-looking, smart or talented. She gets it. Really gets it. And believe me when I say Andy’s the last one that’s gonna give me that shame-on-you! routine for having some very deadly thoughts about Jesse’s fucking mutts, so he gets it, too. He may not get why I want to get rid of these goddamn teeth, but he gets the dog thing. So do some others.

For a while, Nane put a complex on me about sharing any negative experiences with others after she accused me of just “messing” with her and then dumping me. But I not only know she knew damn well I wasn’t playing with her and that she was simply accusing me of what she herself was doing, but that’s how I know who my real friends are is by sharing all of me with them. And the ones who can handle it all are the truest.

I have such mixed emotions about my mom right now. I wish she’d live forever but I also wish she would just go on to join Dad because I know she’s not only got to be absolutely miserable and is suffering both physically and mentally, but then I can just wash my hands clean of what’s left of the so-called “family” and be done with the damn drama forever. Thus far I’ve only been hanging on for her sake, cuz again, if I wouldn’t allow myself to have friends like this, why allow family members like this in my life?

Tammy wants to talk on the phone and that’s another thing I’m not happy about. I’m just not sure what to do. I don’t want to say no at such a hard time in our lives, but I also don’t want to give her the wrong idea and think we’re buddies. Blood or not, I do not want to be her buddy! She’s not only not my type to be buds with but she’s simply too vindictive when she’s pissed at you.

On top of my sadness for Dad and my anger for Larry, there’s the troll that’s pissing me off. I feel bad for Aly because she’s not only bashing her in her public blog, but sometimes she uses her full name. I’m also pissed for myself because I feel like I’m being forced to hide. But not just for my own sake. It’s for any friends’ sake as well, be it future or present friends. She doesn’t just harass us but our friends as well and I can’t convince and stop all of them from acknowledging her, and the more attention you give her, the worse it will be for you in the end. Then they come to regret it and all I can say is: I told you so. She goes right down the line from friend to friend. Since discovering how to contact Aly’s BF and Kat’s hubby, she’s now stalking and harassing them as well.

They really need to find a way to prevent multiple accounts from being created from the same household! But sadly, people can just reset their modem, thus creating a whole new IP address.

I thought my weight would climb faster than a terrified cat climbing a tree to escape a vicious dog, but it’s holding pretty steady. For now anyway. I’m gonna CoQ10 myself if Tom keeps losing weight. He’s not only lost some weight, but he’s not feeling nearly as run down.

[thedevilsruby]

Foe of the Guide (Clierra Multichapter fic)

Sierra Rossi's parents died in front of her because of Giovanni Pasini and his family's invention, the Guide. Oppressed by years by corruption and greed, she comes of age to fight against those who have wronged the world she lives in. She just didn't expect to fall in love along the way.

Chapter Six: Riot

Sierra walks through the town square once again, eyeing for anyone that might see Kaito and get suspicious.

"So today's the day?" Sierra mutters loud enough for her mic to pic up.

"Yup! You just need to walk by Giovanni's office for Kaito to fly near and we can find his office that way." Spark replied, excitement obvious in his tone.

"We should get a good amount of info if he's using his computer." Blanche says.

"What if someone suspects me?" Sierra asks. "They'll wonder what I'm doing near Pasini Enterprises."

"It has that huge, overbuilt fence in front of it." Candela waves her off. "You're just another citizen walking in front of it."

Sierra shrugs, deciding to heed the word of the fiery trainer. Candela was right, dozens of citizens walked in front of that cursed building, either to glare at it as they passed or stare in awe for the fools who genuinely believed the Pasinis were saving them.

She walks a few blocks down and there it is.

The Pasini Enterprises building was by far the tallest building in the city, with drones flying to it then flying away once Giovanni watched all the incidents that they recorded that day. It felt as though you had to crane your neck in a painful way just to look at the top building.

Sierra swore she would cheer when they were to tear it down one day.

"Sierra, look!" Candela gasps as she points Kaito forward.

Sierra gasps inaudibly as she sees a whole crowd in front of Pasini Enterprise's fence, yelling and holding up signs that read "DOWN WITH PASINI", "GIOVANNI GO TO HELL", among other things.

Two officers guarded the main gate while other officers pushed the advancing crowd back.

"You Grumpigs deserve whatever he throws at ya!" An elderly man spat at them, saliva flying from his lips as he spoke. "I hope you all rot!"

"What the heck happened here?" Spark asks.

"I-I don't know, let's find out." Sierra hisses, running to the crowd. She puts her hand on an older woman's shoulder.

"What's going on?" The brunette asks.

"That bastard's gone too far, that's what!" The woman snaps. "He jailed Professor Oak for conspiracy to stop this bullshit business!"

"Professor Oak?!" Blanche gasps. "Willow's mentor!"

Sierra gasps herself, horrified that the sweet old man was jailed. "H-How did he...?" She manages to get out.

"One of those stars damned drones followed him when he walked to his office late one night and saw from the window what Oak was planning!" The woman growls. "It's total Tauros-crap! That man is adored by the community! Whatthe hell ever happened to freedom of speech?!"

"We lost it when the Pasinis got greedy." Sierra thought bitterly. She felt her own anger building up, Oak was kind to her when Willow brought her to visit him. He always asked her how she was doing and offering her snacks and tea if she was hungry, telling her her parents must be so proud in the Eternal Ground*.

Kaito watched her glare grow angrier and she clenched her fists so tight that if she wasn't wearing her gloves, her palms would bleed.

"Sierra, I know you're angry, stars knows we are too but you need to keep calm." Blanche says "Don't draw attention to yourself."

Sierra tried to take deep breaths, trying to soothe herself.

Just then, one of the officers threw a can into the crowd, near Sierra's feet.

"SHIT, TEAR GAS!" A man yelled. "RUN, EVERYONE!!"

Screams erupted through the crowd as they all scrambled to get away as a cloud of liquid sprayed from the can. Some were already coughing and grabbing at their eyes as they ran, screaming in agony.

Sierra coughed hard, her vision now blurry and her eyes feeling a burning she had never felt before.

"Fuck!" She screamed, stumbling and reaching one hand out to feel her surroundings, the other holding her eyes. "THIS FUCKING HURTS!"

"Sierra"! Blanche gasped. "S-Stay right where you are, we'll come get you-!"

That's when it happened. She felt someone grab her hand.

"What the fuck?!" She gasped.

"Don't worry, it's me, I got you!" A familiar deep voice hissed.

"C-Cliff?!" She coughs as Cliff gently pulls her to him.

"Cliff? That guard you know?" Spark asks.

Sierra opts to ignore him, letting Cliff guide her. "W-Where are we going?!"

"To the nearest Pokecenter down the road!" Cliff says. "Just stay with me, you'll be fine!"

Sierra feels her head spinning, trying to blame the tear gas rather than the fact Cliff is holding her so tight to him.

-

*The Eternal Ground is my name for Heaven here, I don't know if the word Heaven is canon in the PokeVerse, but I like this better lmao

[lesbobiwan]

Would you consider [70] with commander fox and senator!reader? Any gender/pronouns are fine! Thank you!

YES PLEASE THIS ONE! god tier pic anon thank u so much

#70: "It's too bad the others are watching, or I'd be on my knees with your dick in my mouth." + Fox

Your elaborate dress is itchy.

Well, no. Not really.

The dress is too expensive to be itchy. Rather, it's the lace underneath your dress that refuses to be ignored. It's not scratchy so much as tempting.

With every shift of your body, you're reminded — as if you ever forgot — about the dark red lingerie wrapped around your body.

Your gaze flits to the commander standing at a perfect parade rest across from the room.

His helmet is trained straight ahead, conveniently where you sit at the table full of Senators. His head dips, unnoticeable to anyone not watching.

Not you. You find that you're always watching Commander Fox.

You enjoy these Senatorial meetings — not a full convening of the Senate, thank the Maker, but close enough — about as much as Fox does, which is to say not at all.

So it goes without saying that you are in desperate need to spice things up.

You start innocently.

The way the Senators are seated ensures that Fox has a direct line of sight to you and you intend to use that to your full advantage.

You uncross your legs.

Fox tilts his head just barely.

One of your hands strays beneath that table, the perfect picture of subtlety, and you pull at the high slit in your dress until your garter belt is bared for Fox's eyes.

His hands clench at his sides.

You can almost picture the way his eyebrow is raised in challenge.

You skate your fingers along the lace until you reach your inner thigh. You can feel the heat from your pussy.

"Please excuse me," you clear your throat in your best impression of being parched, "I'm just going to get some water."

You smile politely, and the bickering Senators pay you no mind as you walk around the table to where the water fountain is stationed. Right next to Commander Fox, not that that means anything.

No one is watching. They're all too self-absorbed in their own egos and need to be right all the time.

"You know," you drop your voice, standing next to Fox and facing the other way as if you're filling up one of the cups, "It's too bad the others are watching, or I'd be on my knees with your dick in my mouth."

Fox's head snaps to face you.

You stare into the emotionless visor, lips quirked up at just the thought of Fox's face underneath that bucket of his.

"I'm terribly sorry, Senator," Fox says, projecting his voice to be heard over the bickering (not that it matters any), "but I've just gotten word of a situation that needs your attention."

You hum in response to hold off the grin that threatens to overtake your face. "How sudden," you remark, "by all means, we should see to it."

Fox guides you out of the room with a hand on the small of your back that's less than professional.

You're pulled into a broom closet where there is distinctly no situation that needs your attention.

Fox rips his helmet off with no finesse and lets it clatter to the ground.

You duck his attempt at pulling you in for a kiss, instead folding onto your knees, fancy dress be damned.

"Cyare, what are you —"

Your hands unclasp his cod piece, setting it down beside you. "I said if no one was watching, I'd be on my knees," you gesture down at your position, "with your dick in my mouth," you gesture at the erection straining Fox's blacks. "Do you see anyone in here with us?"

Fox huffs in disbelief, "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

You grin up at him, pleased as punch as one of his hands caress your cheek, "You like it."

"I'd like it a lot more if you put your pretty lips around my cock."

You inhale sharply, thighs pressing tightly together. Your hands dutifully pull Fox's half hard cock from his pants.

Fox groans, thighs flexing as the cold air hits his cock. One of his hands fists tightly in your intricately pinned hair, and the first tug against your scalp has you keening into the empty storage closet.

"C'mon, pretty thing, put that mouth to good use."

He doesn't sound as commanding as you think he'd like to. He sounds desperate.

You press a soft kiss to the head of his weeping cock, right on his leaking slit, and lick the salty taste from your lips.

Fox's head drops back against the shelving unit behind him, rattling the disinfectant cans there. His hand tightens in your hair.

You have to open your mouth wide to the point of aching to fit him in your mouth.

He's just so thick.

Dedicating yourself in this moment to swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, paying special attention to the ridge of his head.

A tug at your hair has you taking more of his dick down your throat until you start to spasm around him, fighting back your gags.

You lose yourself in the stretch, in the taste. In the groan that reverberates through the room and resonates between your thighs.

You don't stop until your nose is pressed into the hairs at the base of his cock.

"Shit, you feel so good," Fox gasps, thunking his head against the shelving unit again. One of the cans falls, clattering to the ground with a noise that's too loud to be hidden by these thin walls.

"Fuck, your mouth is heaven, sweet thing,"

"You take me so well, baby. Like you were made to suck my cock."

"'m gonna cum,"

Fox babbles, like he always does when you need to be quiet. It's such a wild 180 from his normal bedroom persona — Fox is all rough words and rougher snaps of his hips when he's the one in charge.

Like this, though? Like this, Fox is at your mercy and he knows it.

You pull back until it's just the head of his cock in your mouth again, and both of your hands wrap around his shaft, stroking and twisting just how he likes as you suck on his tip.

His cock is practically drooling in your mouth, almost as wet as you are in your pretty panties.

You drag the edge of your nail along the vein on the underside of his cock and Fox whines as he cums in your mouth.

You swallow three times, twice to ensure you swallow all his cum and once just to see Fox squirm.

He tugs at your hair to get you off now, trembling in oversensitivity, and you show mercy with a soft kiss to his softening cock before sitting back on your heels, looking up at the commander through your eyelashes.

Your face is red, eyes watery and you know there's drool on your chin, but Fox drags you to your feet to kiss you like you're the most gorgeous sight on this side of the galaxy.

"Fuck," Fox hisses between kisses, "You're amazing, you know that?"

His hands grasp and fumble at the slit of your dress, gloved hands searching for the lace wrapped around your hips.

"Are you going to return the favor, Commander?" you ask, trailing biting kisses down his neck until you meet his plastoid armor.

Fox laughs against your skin, deft fingers hooking into your panties to stroke along your soaked slit.

"I'm about to do more than just that, sweet thing."

[obeymeluv]

Red String of Fate

Something a little different! Drabble lead + headcanons! I really like the idea of being connected to someone, so have this~

Also: very long, so I only did a few of the brothers. I tend to do them in order but I tried to jump around for variety’s sake since I published a partial post the other day.

Features: Lucifer, Mammon, and Asmo (short-ish, but for a reason. Makes sense when you read the lead-up),

I have to get to bed. Need to get up early for studying + a morning class. Really love this idea so I’ll be working on something unique for the rest of the bros :)

Casual conversations about soulmates and bad dates inspires Asmo to find your one true love. He swears up and down there’s a book that can do it. Being a lover of love and feeling like it’s his duty to see you off into the best of hands—the hands made to hold you!—he sets out to find the book. Legend says Cupid pricked his finger while writing out love lists with his enchanted quill and threw the dirty pages away, deeming them unusable. Instead of being discarded, they were salvaged by another and turned into a book that would answer any love-related question the reader had.

All it would cost is a drop of blood.

Cupid, who was very serious about his task of uniting hearts and forging bonds, felt insulted by the book. He felt cheapened and could not see the joy it would bring before his arrow was destined to arrive. In a fit of rage he threw it from the heavens, assuming it would disintegrate before landing in another’s hands.

He was wrong.

The book circulated for centuries, making its way through humble and haughty, poor and princely. Some say it even inspired the most romantic of playwrights. It was kept by a family of matchmakers for generations before their home was pillaged and burned by a spurned heart. Traded out of guilt or in a desperate moment for silver or food (Asmo didn’t remember which), it ended up in the hands of a scholar. He sat with his crush and read the book, the two asking it hundreds of questions and finding themselves quite content with each other.

After the two got married, they were convinced it was a lucky charm of sorts and passed it along to their friends. Once those friends found their true loves, it started a chain of giving. When one family had all of their children married off, they would pass the book on to someone else. The book spent a fair amount of time collecting dust when one person lost their soulmate too soon and didn’t open it for about five years, convinced it would stay blank. A new love came into their life and they were so moved by the magic, by the joy, that they donated the book to a thrift shop.

Asmodeus lost the history after the thrift shop. Too many people went in and out of it, too much time had passed. All he knew is that it ended up in the hands of a witch who made serious money off of love potions and romantic divinations. One of her grandchildren—a quarter succubus and three-quarters human—had donated it to RAD’s library.

He should’ve just texted his friends about the damn thing instead of researching it like Levi does his events. Should he be proud of all the effort? You could be, but he was kind of put off by all the work. It was shabby and beaten, hardly bigger than a typical planner. Definitely unassuming and definitely looked like it’d seen some things. Asmodeus was expecting something gorgeously gilded and velvet.

Hopefully a peek into your future would make up for all the disappointment. “I bet it’s me.” he touched a finger to his soft lips with a giddy smile, little ring glinting in the light. He practically skipped out of the library and back to the House of Lamentation. At the very least, he’d get to go on and on about how he found it and how grateful you should be that he cares for you so much to do so!

Asmodeus whisks you away into his room, the bed already set with pillows that were both aesthetic and luxurious. Nothing too out of the norm for him, but he wanted something that complimented the romantic undertones of this little endeavor. He coddled the two of you in a plush pink blanket before cracking it open and guiding your finger along the edge of the page. The red soaked in, ink blossoming in a faint pink that turned a brilliant scarlet.

The book grew warm, almost burning as the scarlet began to sear and shimmer on the page. You heard him hiss and grabbed the book as he started to squirm and scoot out from under it. You’d barely grabbed the book when pinky-red smoke exploded violently in your face. It didn’t burn or have a taste but it was surprisingly thick.

“What? No names!” Asmodeus had finally swatted away enough of the smoke to see a blank book. “It’s supposed to be names!” he scowled, kittenish fangs threatening to poke at his lower lip.

“Maybe there’s been a revision,” you blinked distractedly, talking more to yourself than him. Nope, still there. You wagged your finger at Asmodeus, showing off the bright red string tied around it.

His oncoming rant receded immediately, eyes shining a gorgeous and unmistakable pink. “Let’s see where it goes!”

To Lucifer:  

He’s in the middle of doing paperwork (shocker) when he finds a vibrant red string tangling in his pen and catching on the lines

Tries to shake it off (very undignified, glad no one saw it)

Puts his pen down to pick at it and untie it. When that doesn’t work, he slips the opposite glove off with his teeth and lets his demon aura come out just enough to turn his fingernails into claws

That didn’t work either

Physically tries to pull the string off and begrudgingly stops when he realizes his finger might come off first

A huffy, annoyed man

Takes an awkward pic with his D.D.D and sends it to Diavolo, wanting to know if it’s a prank

Diavolo swears it’s not and Barbatos suggests it could be the red string theory, that thing some humans believe in.

Could it be true? Does he have a soulmate? Could he, being a fallen angel? Demons had soul mates?

All the questions swirl and he just leans back in his fancy padded chair to absorb it all. There’s something beautifully sad and...comforting...at the thought of demons having a soulmate, someone made just for them

Lucifer doesn’t really think that a soulmate’s at the end of the string, but he tells himself it’s a walk for the sake of his health, to stretch, and sets off to find the string

The eldest is quite surprised to run into you and Asmo, the string clearly tied around your finger.

“A bit overboard, don’t you think, Asmo?” Lucifer’s a little aggravated by it. What is this, a set up?!

His little brother swears against it, holding up a beaten book not even Mammon would waste money on.

Apparently, the string disappears when the soulmates touch their fingers together. Lucifer rolls his eyes and tries to soften his scowl as he presses his finger to yours.

You’re both surprised when the string thickens until it resembles a ribbon, kinking in the shape of a heart before disappearing in a burst of pinky-red smoke that has your fingers tingling

Lucifer says nothing, silently stunned and heart yearning at the tingling in his finger. It’s warm, like your love.

To Mammon:

IS IT ONE OF THE WITCHES?! IS THIS A TRACKER?!

First reaction: “OI! What the hell?!”

Also shakes his finger

Immediate second reaction is to chew on it and try to get it off

Ends up sucking on his tender finger like a baby because he basically chewed on himself instead of the string

Texted all the sorcerers and witches he knew. They all deny hexing him or mentioning him in potion-making.

He’s surprised to find he can still move around with the string. It’s not straining or limiting him, so he goes in his closet of magical seals, peeling a few back to reveal a sizeable hoard of stuff he’d stolen over the centuries (including some stuff he had on him from the Fall).

He tries daggers of all sizes and types. They don’t cut the string, either

When nothing seems to work, he marches towards the source, wrapping it around his fist with a grumble.

He pulls on it at random just because it’s a minor inconvenience and he couldn’t get it off.

Mammon notice that it runs under Asmo’s door and he yanks on it really hard, hoping he’s tearing thread off of a sweater or something. Annoying ass little brother!

When you yelp he freezes. Brain hasn’t quite kicked in yet and he yanks it again to check the reaction. Another yelp, and a thick thud behind the door.

Sounds like you’re involved somehow. Oops.

Turns out you had a hard time coming out of the room because he wound the string too quick (and weren’t strong enough to tug it back to yourself)

Asmo’s in the middle of lecturing him as he squishes your poor little face, scowling and lamenting that MAMMON is your soulmate. MAMMON, of all people, who’d been smacking you against a door for the last few minutes!

Now Mammon’s interested and needs the story

Gets a biiiig shit-eating grin when he realizes what’s happened.

Takes your hand with his usual fanfare of ‘’Course I would be! I’m their MAIN man! Their BEST man!”

The string seems to tie your hands together for a brief moment before exploding in a burst of smoke and Mammon’s still grinning like an idiot.

He doesn’t let go of your hand

To Asmodeus:

He’s waving that smoke away when he feels a new, subtle weight on his finger

Whatever it is, it’s flitting and ticklish. He can feel it catching on some of the fashion rings he wears

Asmodeus doesn’t know whether he wants to purr or squeal. He did something that hurt your human ears though.

Didn’t realize it hurt your ears until after the noise bottoms out to a lower pitch, and immediately cups his hands over yours ears, sliding them up into your hair while he showers the crown of your head in apology kisses.

Makes a video clip to send to the bros in a group chat and has to redo it several times because they can’t really hear his words over the smug purring and clicking

It warms his heart to know he has a real soulmate. Asmodeus really struggles with the concept of genuine, non-sexual love.

He figured the most he could ever get was platonic love or brotherly love, but this is a whole new thing for him and he’s honestly blown away

For a brief moment he feels like Heaven’s Jewel again, so treasured and special. It almost makes him cry

He’s lowkey crying.

100% takes advantage of the fact that your fingers are tied together until you touch fingertips. You guys giggle quietly and cuddle close as he loops the string around his finger so you put your arm around his neck

“You don’t need a string to make me touch you, you know.” you tease him, wrinkling your nose in that cute human way you have

“I know,” Asmo gives you an Eskimo kiss that turns into a few butterfly kisses on your mouth, leaning over you and into you.

Totally uses the string as an excuse to cuddle you and turn down any activities the bros want you to go to. (”Can’t, they’re kind of tied up.”)

Let this baby bask in his sure thing, okay? He really needs it, and you know he’s good for it

Gives you hand kisses and cuddles into you

Gets the bright idea to try to bottle the smoke that’ll erupt when you touch fingertips. Sacrifices his most beautiful perfume bottle to immortalize this moment

Catches the littlest bit, so thin that he has to hold it up to the light to see it.

Complains about probably swallowing most of it during that attempt

Is now even more shameless about demanding his cuddles and attention because you guys are destined lovers.

[straynstay]

Minho - Hybrid AU! (part II)

Happy Easter, everyone! 🐰♥️

part I

for the first time in years you skipped class 

all because of your conflicting feelings for Minho

you are still too fragile to see him and Chaewon at school, especially after what happened at the parking lot

seeing them together and so intimate with cute pet names made you realize there’s no room for you anymore

Minho is growing up and becoming an adult, and so are you, and soon society will pressure you both to find a mate

and you know a prey won’t choose a predator to spend the rest of their lives with

so it’s better to end things with Minho now

that’s why you avoided him when he showed up at your house to check up on you after school

you heard him ringing the bell and calling your name, which only made you cry harder, but you remained in bed

he came back when your parents were home, and even with your mom asking you to at least see what he wanted, you fiercely denied

Minho left his class notes with your mom, and at night you cried with the papers pressed onto your chest

you woke up feeling a little better in the morning, despite your eyebags and swollen eyes ruining your face

you placed a cool towel over your eyes 10 minutes before leaving to school and you hoped that would help somehow

walking to school without Minho was weird, but you said to yourself you’d soon get used to it

from today on, Minho would become like any other prey to you

it’s time to remove him completely from your life and you’re ready to do it

-♡-

school days were dreadful

but ignoring Minho was easier than you had imagined though

after he noticed you were being cold and distancing yourself from him, he took the hint and left you alone right away

and it hurt

a lot

because without you around, Chaewon was even more glued to his side

and even though you tried to avoid certain places you knew they’d be at, you still saw them sometimes

walking around together, holding hands, eating vegetables and feeding each other at the cafeteria, laughing at stupid things, being the damn perfect couple you wish you’d be

but since your pain is your own, you never opened your mouth to complain about it to anyone

you just tried to shrug it off and move on, washing away all the pent up anger on the field

and everyone at school was really impressed at how good you were playing lacrosse lately, making them hope for the victory this year

and before you could dwell even more on your self pity, saturday arrived

the big day

the revenge match

you were nervous, excited, worried, angry, and heartbroken

but you were decided to play like your life depend on it

maybe you could become your school’s star player and get a nice scholarship afterwards if you give your best at the game tonight

so you set your mind to focus only on the game and make your team and school proud of you

since the match would be held at the rival school, you had a small gathering at your own school with your P.E. teacher and teammates

Minho was there with the cheerleaders rehearsing the choreography and chants for tonight’s game

you ignored him like you had been doing since tuesday

you even sat beside your coach on the school bus during the small trip to the rival school

the cheerleaders were too excited for your liking, but you didn’t say a thing, letting their chit chat numb your ears

as soon as you arrived, the team went straight to the designated locker room and got ready for the match

you were doing things automatically, barely paying attention to your surroundings

you put on your equipment, helped some of your teammates with theirs, and were ready to play

you waited with your team to be called to the field and when you got there, you were impressed by the amount of people on the bleachers cheering for your school

and then your eyes captured the place beside the field where the cheerleaders were

Minho looked really good with his tight uniform, and you were sure Chaewon had complimented him lots

you rolled your eyes realizing you were thinking about them again and went to your position

as soon as the judge blew the whistle, it was game on

-♡-

you were scoring like there’s no tomorrow, fighting hard to turn the game around

pretty much half of your team’s goals were yours

and everyone was going crazy chanting your name

but the one person your eyes quickly looked for was happily hugging someone else

Minho was spinning Chaewon’s small body around as if she was the one who was making the team win

and you couldn’t stand it

you really couldn’t

you wanted to rip them apart, growl as angrily as you could at Chaewon while showing your huge fangs to scare the shit out of her

but you just clenched your fists, letting your claws almost pierce through the thick fabric of your gloves

if it wasn’t for your mouthpiece, you’d probably let out a loud hiss

you shook your head, griped the stick harder, and decided to solely focus on the game

rage was freely flowing through your veins, boiling your blood and blinding your common sense

you’re gonna destroy anyone who stands in your way now

and you’re gonna take that damn trophy home

-♡-

it felt like waking up from a deep trance being lifted up by your teammates while the crowd chanted your name

it took you awhile to understand what had happened

but when you saw the scoreboard, realization hit you

you won!

you really won!!

it felt amazing raising the trophy up high while all the audience screamed for you

you felt like a celebrity after taking so many pics

a lot of people from your school came to congratulate and thank you for the victory

and it was all too good while it lasted

your heart was roaring inside your chest

you can actually get used to this feeling of being praised for being fierce and untammed

after it all ended, you and your teammates went to the locker room to shower and get changed

you were still being the main topic of their conversation

you heard everything they said you did on the last minutes of the match, but you don’t really remember doing it

you were so blinded by anger that you can’t even recall the rest of the game

but it’s okay cause you won

and that’s all that matters, right?

once you slowly started removing your equipment, you realised how sore you were

your arms felt like jelly, your legs were ugly bruised, your shoulders hurt from all the impact

your ears were ringing from all the screaming and your eyes were sensitive due to the huge spotlights on the field

you just wanted to throw yourself in bed and sleep for three days straight

you put away your equipment in your bag and took your body wash to the shower

it was a quick shower since you couldn't make most of the movements now

so you just washed away the sweat, dried yourself the best your arms allowed you, and started to put on new clothes to go home

“we’re already going to the bus, want us to take your bag?” the captain asked and you agreed

you checked if your equipment was complete in your huge bag, and handed it to your teammates

“I’m finishing, I’ll be out in a sec” you said and heard them telling you to take your time and that they’ll wait for the star of the team to carry the trophy to school

you just laughed at their comments and continued to get dressed

you tried brushing your hair, but your shoulders said no

so you just used water to fix them a little bit

you were so focused on your own pain that you didn’t notice Minho was inside the lockers room staring at you

but once you did, all the emotions you were suppressing came back like a tsunami

and it felt like drowning

“preys aren’t allowed here, go away” you let out an angry growl at him

“you don’t scare me, but nice try” Minho gave you two thumbs up

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” you screamed, tired of having wrong feelings for him

“what happened to you? why are you like this?” Minho took a step closer, but you raised your voice again

“you happened to me, Minho! this is all your fault!”

“what?!” he snared “what did I do?” he crossed his arms staring intensely at you 

you got defeated while looking back at him

four days being apart and nothing changed, it only made you miss him like crazy

he was really clueless, wasn’t he?

“what did you do?” you asked tiredly

“you talked to me, Minho, you became my lab partner” you gave him a bitter smile remembering that fateful day

“why couldn't you just be afraid like everyone else?” you inquired through your tears 

“I know it's my fault falling in love, but please leave me alone until I get over these feelings for you… please” you never sobbed before in your life, but because of Minho now you did

“no” his answer was firm

“Minho, go” you said again using your intimidating tone

any prey would have ran away for dear life, but Minho didn’t even budge

he did, in fact, approached you slowly, but before he was too close, you backed out

Chaewon was coming, you could smell her sweet scent from the distance 

“Minho?” she was calling for him outside the lockers room and she was distressed, you could sense it

“she’s worried about you” you warned, turning your back to him and pretending to still fix your hair

“she has nothing to worry about” Minho replied

“you’re a bunny, I’m an angry lynx, it makes sense to me”

“you're a lynx, yeah, but you're also my best friend and I'm the one who's worried here”

you tried muffling a mewl, but hearing Minho calling you best friend hurt like hell

Chaewon called him louder this time

“go” you closed your eyes, forcing some tears to roll down to your chin

your chest was aching like there was a fire rapidly consuming your heart

and then you heard his footsteps moving away from you

Minho did what you asked him to and left you alone

you sighed loudly, but quickly closed your lips together to avoid sobbing

you were feverish, enraged, sad, disheartened, shaking, ready to lose control

this was all new to you, never in your life your emotions were so over the top

but this is Minho’s effect on you

you just want this feelings to leave you alone, to go away

you rest your head on your locker a little too forcefully, producing a loud bang that echoed through the room

you did it again, hitting your forehead a little bit stronger this time

and again

and again

every time the bang was louder and louder

“you’re gonna get bruised”

“Minho....” you whined hearing him talking to you

he was back, you couldn’t believe it

you turned your head to look at him and tell him to go away again

“I’m not leaving you, don’t even try” he warned reading your intentions in your desperate eyes

“I’m really angry” you said

“I’m not worried about it, I know you’re not gonna hurt me because I trust you and because I know you love me too much to even consider causing me pain”

his words made you cry harder

he was right

Minho noticed you wouldn’t reply, so he got one step closer

he sighed

“but you know... I love you too and I’m hating seeing you like this, so if your pain is because of Chaewon and I, you shouldn’t be suffering”

you scoffed

how dare he say this after all you’ve seen and heard?

“hear me out, ok? I like her, but I don’t like her” Minho quickly explained

“I like her as a bunny, but I don’t like her like romantically even though she’s a bunny and my natural choice of a partner, but who cares about natural selection? we’re made in a lab, there’s nothing natural about it” he shrugged

“I feel like she’s part of my litter. I never met a Mini Lop before, so it’s nice to be around one of my own” he took another step closer

“but not as nice and thrilling like being around you” Minho gave you side smile

“I like living life dangerously, and you keep me high on adrenaline all the time like... will you eat me for breakfast? will you marinate me for dinner instead? should I run now or wait a minute more?” he teased

“shut up” you rolled your eyes

“make me” Minho provoked you, and you moved in the blink of an eye

your lips collided with his in a strong, angry kiss

you felt your entire body buzzing with adrenaline for tasting him after waiting for so long

you pulled him closer and grabbed his neck to deepen the kiss

Minho didn’t fight back and for the first time he actually behaved like a prey with you

you felt yourself getting too excited about it all: his submissive scent, his addicting taste, his soft lips, his hands gripping your hips, his hot body against yours...

and in the heat of the moment you ended up with his lower lip between your sharp teeth 

Minho hissed and you broke the kiss, running your thumb across his lip to see if you had hurt him too much

“sorry” you said “I got carried away”

“I don’t mind some love bites here and there” he winked seductively at you

“Chaewon will try to stab me if I hurt you somehow, she likes you waaay too much” you rolled your eyes smiling a bit, feeling somehow a lot more calmer and at ease than before while caressing his long fluffy ears

“she may like me, but I like you and that’s the only thing that matters” Minho stated

“will you give me a cute nickname now?” you asked

“yeah, mine” he smiled brightly “how does that sound?”

“oddly perfect”

[what-a-messsss]

2x3 rewatch

I keep forgetting that Brach is still in S2.  Oops.  Also, I apparently went to check something in S6 last time I watched something, so it started at 6x2 instead of 2x3 and I yelled.  But anyway, on with this mess.  “Death Came in Like Thunder” apparently.  It sure did.

Ah yes, let us not forget that Branch is MANLEH.  This shall be proven to us by him murdering his cousin, Trunk, with big ax.  Chop chop, Branch, kill Trunk.  But oh no, must also show that he is People Smart, so must also lose because this makes him likable.  And many white people clap.  Yaaaay.  But be sure to say, “I let him win, Ferg,” while your competitor is right next to you, so he almost surely heard you.  Good good.

Oh Ferg.  Could you look more gormless if you tried?  (I mean, probably not, since presumably that was the goal of the actor, so he would have been trying.  But still.)  Bb.

Heh, nice thematic cut to Walt also chopping wood.  And YAY, Henry’s gorgeous truck (and gorgeous self).  I’m just going to take a moment to appreciate the fact that Henry rolls up and just helps himself to some of Walt’s thermos of coffee.  Because of course he does.  But I do so love these touches that they put in that do underline the fact that they are married have been besties for going on 40 years.  Also, I love this jacket of Henry’s.  The woven top, jean jacket sort of one?  Yeah, top 5 costume pieces of his for me.  (Also on that list, all basically tied with each other, basically any pants he wears.  I am reminded, when they cut back out to a full body shot.  Because I am very shallow, and he is very pretty.)

Haaaaaa.  And of course Cady talked to Henry before she talked to Walt.  Walt is a butthead.  And, yeah yeah, she just found out that he’d been lying to her for over a year, but that just proves my point that Walt is a butthead.  And we’re back to this whole idea that she left her phone, which just... ugh.  No.  But Henry’s face when he says that she said that she is safe, and he’s so worried, but still willing to respect her boundaries.

“She is an adult, Walt.”  “She’s my daughter.”  For fuck’s sake, you jackass, your ADULT daughter; that’s the whole flipping point!  Also, that little emphasis on my daughter, pfft.  If you didn’t want to feel like she preferred her cool dad to you, maybe try being less of an AAAAAAASSHOLE.  And, like, respecting her.  Even a weensy little bit.

“Etta Place”  I don’t remember if we find out why that’s the ‘assumed name’ that Cady chose, but I’m intrigued.  Wait, I just googled.  Looooool.  She spent years with Butch and Sundance.  Nice.

Walt is such a soft touch with teens.  *snack crackle pop* that kneecap back into place.  Vic starts this scene saying, “The 911 operator,” though, which is interesting, because I was kind of under the impression that Ruby was the main dispatcher, so it would be kind of heartening if she actually had back up with that.  ...Or maybe they’re just far enough out that a cell call made would be picked up by a tower farther out and have to be routed back in to the station/them.  I have no idea how that actually works.  Another rabbit hole for me to totally not go down.  Hopefully.  Shit.  They’ve apparently upped the fine for trespass since the show, though, because it’s $750 (or 6 months in jail) now and Walt says it’s $500.

And once again, we see Vic actually wearing gloves while investigating a suspicious death, and Walt just squinting into the distance helpfully.  I suppose “things got bad” in Basque country around WWII, but there has been friction there that dates back before the Spanish Civil War, or even the Carlist Wars the previous century.  It did get gnarly with the dictatorship of Franco, and the formation of the ETA in retaliation, though, so yeah.  (Francisco Franco is also on the list of people who anybody with a time machine should go back and beat the shit out of.)

Shit, I forgot about the animal death.

Knock knock, no answer.  Better just wander in without a warrant.  I know that the guy who they know lives there is dead, but still, no fricking warrant; I suppose the worry of a poisoning could count as probably cause?  

Gods, but there are moments when I do absolutely adore Vic, and they are usually when she’s taking the piss out of Walt.  “Reclusive bachelor chic; you and Marco have the same decorator.”  Looool.  But also, sad, because Martha has only been gone for a little over a year, and Walt is not the kind of person who would, like, change stuff and get rid of her things, so that’s kind of odd.  Maybe Henry and/or Cady went though and put away some of her things to try to help Walt move on?  But damn, the ‘excuse you’ look on Walt’s face when she does say it, pffft.

AND AGAIN, Vic wearing gloves, Walt with his bare ass hands picking up the picture of Picasso’s Guernica; can you at least *pretend* you’re a cop, *some* of the time, buddy?

Lol at the barrabilak; they are pretty well by the Rocky Mountains, so it’s probably not all that surprising that Walt’s had some “Rocky Mountain oysters” before.

I had forgotten that Vic had four brothers.  But her comment about Sal going off to look after the sheep and how if someone had told her that one of her brothers were dead she “wouldn’t care about any damn sheep,” I don’t know.  It kind of annoys me.  It’s totally in character for her, which is good, but I think it’s part of what can annoy me about her character.  Different people grieve differently, but also, I know she’s only been in Wyoming for a year or two, tops, but how is it so hard to fathom that someone one would be concerned about their livelihood, even in the face of personal tragedy?  Just, seeing beyond her own very narrow experience doesn’t seem like something she’s very good at.  It would be one thing if she’d framed it as “this is suspicious, and here’s why I think so as a cop,” but it was, “I wouldn’t react that way personally, so it’s sus.”  

Sure, be suspicious because there’s a suspicious death and family members are always suspects until ruled out, but approach it like a cop.  Or at least think about it from more angles than just your own, not terribly similar experience.  You’re a white city cop who can’t (or won’t) adjust to being in BF rural-ville, but these are immigrant shepherds whose family come from a homeland where the cops were just as likely to kill you as answer questions, and you’re side-eying a guy for going to make sure that their meal ticket doesn’t get obliterated?

I need to keep reminding myself that I really did want to like Vic.  I really did.  She just... they don’t make it easy for me.  Maybe she’s serving as an avatar for audience who don’t know about some of the culture stuff, and the audience get answers from her ignorance?  But honestly, I wish they’d picked a different way to handle that, if that’s what they were trying to do.  Her response to Henry being salty about Thanksgiving still really pisses me off.  Because it was shitty and racist, and... do we really need a character basically rolling their eyes and saying, “It was so long ago, why don’t you just get over it,” about something that is intrinsically tied to the genocide of so many people?  Why are Indigenous people just supposed to “get over it” but “Remember the Alamo” and “Southern Pride,” and shit?  Fuck’s sake.  Honestly, that might have been the moment when they lost me on her character.  She has moments where she’s awesome, but they never really address her being fucking racist or give her a chance to grow into a better person.  Which sucks a lot.  Fuck.  Ok, that was a lot.  Sorry.  Back to the actual ep.

AH, nice of you to beam in from the campaign trail, Brancheroo!

Uh, so I paused it to look at pic in the newspaper, and then being me, started to look at the articles surrounding the pic.  And the one with the headline “Fans Injured At Local Game” is actually about the Stewart case?  From 1x3?  I’m guessing that somebody went to the trouble of writing up an article for that for some S1 ep after it and they just plugged it in because when not paused, you might catch “Sheriff Longmire” there and that’s all they need.  Especially since the text starts to repeat after the first paragraph.  (I am the worst pedantic little shit.)  Ooooor, maybe even though it’s S2, it’s hardly been any time since 1x3?  The date on the newspaper is March 31, 2012, so there’s a timeline hint. 

Awwwwww, once Walt points out the bird, Ferg knows exactly what it is.  Occasional twitcher, are we, my lad?  “A red-tip meadowlark,” indeed.  Oh bb; Ferg’s face when he sees Walt looking at the pic of him with Branch in the paper.

“You go too fast, you miss the little things.”  Every once in a while, he actually sort of mentors Ferg.  I wish he did more of that, especially since we see later how capable Ferg can be.

Go suck an egg, Branch.  Why does she get all the “good” assignments?  Maybe because she was actually on the job when they found the body, not campaigning.

OPE.  Lizzie’s gift.  Yeah, I’d probably choke on that coffee if I were you, too, girl.  Better hope that there wasn’t perishable food stuffs in that gift, because that has been in there for a whiiiiiile, hasn’t it.  Wait, was Ferg in the office when Lizzie dropped off the gift?  Because his face said more than just “Did somebody give Vic a present?”  Suuuuper subtle with that whole pushing the drawer closed with your foot there, Vic.  Pfffft.

“Cyrano Caballero”  How daaaare that skeeve take Cyrano’s name in vain?!?!  (I have a thing about Cyrano de Bergerac.  It’s quite possibly my favourite play, and I adore the character, and have exactly 0 chill about it at all.  I find Brian Hooker’s translation of “The Ballade of the duel at the Hotel Bourgogne Between de Bergerac and a Boeotian” with “Then, as I end the refrian, thrust home,” vastly superior to any other translation that I’ve heard or read, though for the rest of it, I will grant that there are others to be preferred.  But that version of his Ballade is exquisite, and I will not be swayed.  Holy shit, FOCUS.  That is so very much not the point.)  It’s not even a throw away line in this ep, it’s just a random, very well chosen, if utterly appallingly insulting, company name.  It’s actually incredibly clever for what the business is, and if it didn’t make me so stomping mad, I would applaud whoever came up with it heartily.

Vic’s face listening to this jackass’ spiel is a thing of beauty.  “A good woman goes a long way of easing the obvious stresses of your daily life,” the jackass says, cutting his eyes at Vic when he says “obvious stresses,” and I caaaackle.

What is it about this guys’ horrible glasses that just makes him so much more hate-able?  I’m not entirely sure, but kudos to whatever costumer put those on him, because they are perfect.  In the ‘I want to punch him’ way of perfection.

And after all of that about Walt’s “lady friend,” Vic brings Lizzie’s present.  Womp womp.  That went super well.  Yuuuup, run while you can.

Poor Ferg.  Branch manipulates him, Vic ignores him, Walt shuts him down...  Poor guy just can’t get a break.

I actually kind of like this motel manager--the one who “doesn’t judge people” and is a stickler for warrants?  At least somebody in this county cares about warrants.  Also, those doors are actually really pretty.  Nice colour, and the carved scrollwork designs are nice.

What an odd shot: the one when they’re coming out of Walt’s office after talking to Skeevy McGrossFace and Rosa.  It’s a weird sort of shaky-cam stepping back, just preceding Branch walking, and then turns to follow him when he sit’s on his desk.  But it’s a really different style of shot than I can remember, so much so that it’s a bit jarring, especially after the series of nearly stationary close ups that we just had.  Weird. [18:42-18-50]

Cady!  I haven’t made much note of her costuming before this, but it seems notable that’s she’s only in monocromatics.  Especially next to Fales in muted tones, but still some colour, and surrounded by the colourful grafitti of the alley where her mother was stabbed.  Nice way of setting her apart from everything.

SHEEPIES!  Ooooo, that wagon is so cool.  Ah dang, the way that Sal corrects Walt’s pronunciation of his brother’s name is so gloriously passive aggressive.  Good for you, my dude.  Names are important, and people should have the respect to make the effort to get them right.

Aaaaaand Walt, the definition of Do, Don’t Tell, just shoves the guy to keep him from drinking the possibly dangerous water, rather than, like, using his words.  Walt’s gonna Walt.

Iiiiiiiii am a mess, truly.  It cuts to an architectural model and I start giggling like a 6th grader, because I know it’s going to be a Jacob scene.  He’s not even on screen yet, ffs.  HANDS.  I’m fine.  Totally fine.  (That’s totally a lie.  I just rewound to the beginning of the scene because I kept giggling too much to pay attention.  What the hell.)  First time we’ve seen one of the chips, which at this point must be a marketing mock-up, since nothing is built yet.  And he actually types, not just doing the hunt-and-peck thing that is sometimes easier on a tablet.

Looking at the weaving that is up on his wall (maybe a rug?) I’m hoping that the prop people actually did buy from Northern Cheyenne artisans.  They apparently did most of their filming in New Mexico, so I hope they made the effort to get the patterns right, and buy from the actual tribe they’re supposed to be portraying, I guess?  And now I’m distracted by the fact that the random hanging light behind Jacob is at a weird angle?  

Look, ever since I realized that the “Hey,” that Jacob does is apparently just A (thanks to it also happening in That Damned Xmas Movie) I am endlessly amused (and charmed) whenever Jacob does it.  I don’t know why it makes me so happy, but it does.  (This is legitimately embarrassing.  How much trouble I am having focusing.  Beyond my normal focus issues, which, as shown above, are already impressive.  Because thiiiiirst.)

“My boys at the lumber yard did just throw you a campaign rally.”  I love how Jacob is basically apparently not just his secret angel-investor, but also a sneaky campaign manager.  Did Branch just think shit like the rally just happened?  He’s not fricking Ferris Bueller; somebody organizes those.  And apparently it’s either Jacob himself, or someone who Jacob appointed to do so.

“I thought you were just a casino developer.”  You have noooo clue, Brancheroo.  “I prefer to remain a silent partner.  White people get nervous when Indians start taking back their land.”  Oooooope.  Especially interesting because there are previsions for the Tribal Council to purchase land to be Tribal land (Section 6 of Article IX of the Tribal Constitution), but this seems more along the lines of personal acquisition.  Though maybe not, because “on the board” doesn’t necessarily equate to being the owner.

The set up of Jacob’s office is so interesting.  Functionally for the show, it’s probably for better shooting angles, so that we can see more of Jacob behind the desk while Branch is sitting in front of it, but from an in-the-verse decorating standpoint, bit’s fascinating.  He has this focal wall with the gorgeous wall hanging, flanked by floor to ceiling window, but instead of having his desk centered on that wall and directly facing the bulk of the room, it’s at an almost 45 degree angle on a huge rug, and it’s so unexpected.  I kind of love it, and want to analyze it for days.  Also worth noting is that pride of place is given to the  Hotamétaneo’o headdress which is on a stand centered in front of the wall hanging.

How fucking tired must Jacob be.  He’s used to Walt... Walting, but then Branch comes in, who he is literally spending his own money to support in his bid for sheriff, and he pulls the same shit of assuming that he’s behind Bad Shit.  And then Branch frames it as “bad P.R,” so he’s there to “discuss it with [him] privately.”  And then basically threatens him with Walt.  I swear.  ...there is something a little amusing about Walt being used as the stick in the carrot and a stick method of negotiating.  He certainly is enough of a blunt object most of the time.

Oh fuck you so much, Branch.  Playing the “can’t give you details about an ongoing investigation” card as though you have some professional or moral leg to stand on after basically blackmailing Jacob with Walt’s vendetta is just such shit.  You don’t get to look down your nose at Jacob’s quid pro quo pragmatism when you were the one who came to him for financial backing.  You sanctimonious little shitheel.  If you didn’t want to deal with Jacob, you shouldn’t have taken his $100k.  He’s a business man, and you’re an investment, and not a quixotic one.

“He’s probably the only person to have died from [hemlock] since Socrates.”  And then Walt’s incredulous look and her, “Alright, I googled it,” were subtle comedic gold.

Ooooooo, that was a nice little shot.  Not quite foreshadowing, but showing Branch’s suspicions and sort of inviting the audience to share them.  Walt says his bit about the Army poisoning “Indian wells” to kill them off and get their land, and then we see Branch fiddling with the Four Arrows chip and narrow his eyes considering and slip the chip into his pocket, looking suspicious.  It’s a really neat little moment of visual storytelling, no lines, literally three seconds long, just sort of snuck in there, but super effective.  Really nicely done.

And again, Cady is in monochromatics.  And, shit, just gave Fales Henry’s name.  Aaaaaand right after, she realizes that the junkie was killed and realizes that it had to have been one of her dads (or so she thinks).

Sal’s monologue in the cell is a good emotional payoff that plays off of Vic’s comments towards the beginning of the episode.  I see the narrative worth of her making them, and how the structure of the episode benefits from it; but seeing those writing elements from the outside of the show doesn’t make me able to like her as a character who said them in-universe.  And then the threat Sal makes of vengeance on someone who killed one he loves also underscores the stuff with Cady’s investigation into her mother’s death very well.  As much as I gripe about the writing *cough S6 cough finale cough* there really is some damn good writing in this show, and I don’t show enough appreciation for it.

Huh, and now there’s a sort of inverse of that weird shot preceding Branch from earlier, but this one is much more effective and less off-putting.  This one [33:00] precedes Walt as he walks back into his office, still a medium close up, but it’s much steadier, and the way it is framed, it does quite a bit to convey his mindset, and he walks out of the shot and we see the three deputies following him in like baffled ducklings, making the shot serve another purpose, too.  Which honestly makes that earlier shaky follow shot of Branch even weirder, because this one was so much better.

And then Walt has his creepy little speech about how someone would want to watch the light go out of their eyes and not caring if you get caught.  I do appreciate that when he’s talking about the psychology of killing with poison he doesn’t just call it a “woman’s method” which media so often does.  It might have been the writers keeping who the killer was abstruse, but it was still more gender neutral.  Especially since according to The U. S. Department of Justice's report on Homicide Trends in the United States (1980 to 2008) of all poison killers in that time period, 60.5 percent were male and 39.5 percent female.  (Table 5 on page 10.)  So that long held idea that even Sherlock Holmes was written to have that poison is “of course” a woman’s weapon is pretty crap.

Awwww, the good old days when Walt paid attention to animals.  ...I am still bizarrely salty about the fact that he never named his horse.  What a good pupper!  

And then we have a classic example of Sneaky!Walt, which always takes people quite by surprise, because he’s usually as subtle as Miley Cyrus.

Also because when he does this, it tends to be pretty fucked up, in a Make Someone Think They’re About To Die way.  And then he does His Thing, where he just lays out all of his suppositions, with no proof, only the terror of her thinking that she’s been poisoned and you’re withholding medical intervention to get her to confess.  And is, irritatingly, correct about his theories.  But I’m pretty sure this qualifies as coercing a confession?  She thinks she’s fucking dying.  Even Vic looks at him like it’s fucked up, and her moral compass where he’s concerned is... skewed.

They way this reveal was played out, (”How’d they find her so fast?”  “Hard to say...”) is somewhat ambiguous as to whether it’s supposed to be that Branch went there to tell Jacob or not, but I kind of doubt it?  I kind of figure that the meeting that Jacob was having when Branch rambled in was already with Rosa signing the paperwork.  Jacob is smart.  So, HAH.  Little good your “can’t comment on an ongoing investigation” schtick did.

And then the news that someone in law enforcement has been asking after Henry.

“Lizzie was waiting for you here tonight.  You should talk to her, Walt.  She seems to think she is in a relationship with you.”  ....omgs.  The tone.  I mean, yes, the blisteringly glorious SASS, but how does one not read that as incredibly shippy?  Howwwww?

“You are an honest man, Walt.  I would like you to stay that way.”  Oh Henry.  When did you decide that you weren’t?  Was it when you hired Hector?  Or was there something before?  ...I feel like there were things before that.  Hello darkness my old friend.

“It is not your job to protect me.”  “It is my job...”  THOSE WERE THE DAYS.  Those were the fucking daaaaaays.  And the emotions on Henry’s face after Walt says, “That was my right,” as though Henry cheated him of something.  I am so deep in OT3 feels I cannot even see daylight here.  The feels of them having been an OT3 and then Walt pulling this shit, and Henry having to defend his own “right” to avenge Martha?  It wrecks me.  “A good woman was murdered.  A bad man is dead.  End of story.”  

[splendidshinobi]

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST 2003 LIVE REACT: EPISODES 11-15

 LETS GO ROUND 3

episode 11: the other brothers elric part 1

yeet this thing edward

ok who r these so called other brothers

“METAL FATHER”

this girl’s uncle is sus. he’s now known as uncle lemons.

THE STONE???? WHOS MAKING A STONE 

oh shit they got kicked to the curb

“THE REAL ELRIC BROTHERS???????” WHOSE ASS

i bet “alphonse” is the taller one

never mind

this twink is annoying

on your knees???????????????????????

ed plz

oh twink doesnt need a circle but doubtful he’s opened a portal of truth

he’s got philosopher’s juice instead i suppose!!

wheres mugear or whoever

oh found him

LUST <3

girly looks hot 

anyways

oh its uncle lemons

these townspeople are annoying as shit

wow what a parallel tragic backstory

operation mole hole

what is the cough sub plot

i have questions

hmm there we go thx fletcher

ugh the twink is back 

and now he’s an attempted murderer

OH FUCKKKKKKKK

great going twink your brother is gonna die

his villain origin story 

uhhh what? part 2 i guess

episode 12: the other brothers elric part 2

fletcher is a homie

ed’s window dive was so dramatic

i literally cannot tell you what the twink’s name is

he is just twink

mugear is suspicious 

he’s not even an alchemist??? bro

who is nash tringham

is he important other than in this specific episode arc

nash tringham and uncle lemons definitely got naughty back in the day

to be fair what is uncle lemons’ name? i do not know

like i cant be expected to remember every one bit character’s name? especially when i have all this other fma knowledge floating around in my head

MARCOH!!!!!!!

why is ed sitting in the tree like that

ed: “google earth...always taking pics”

what is this stone making process with pregnant ladies who thought of this

lets all throw mugear in a septic tank

sussssssss

edward is so unimpressed by this mans

HAHA yes edward my son

“it’s been a good while since i killed anyone. i kinda miss it.” EDWARD YOU KILL ME LMAOOO

uh oh he’s got a red water gun or somethin

so fletcher is the plant alchemist i see

twink’s name is RUSSELL????? how did i miss that

wooooooof sucks to suck mugear

thats A LOT of red water

fletcher’s alchemy is so weird

from the redwood forest to the gulf stream waterssss

what in tarnation is this boy doing

i guess we have another prodigy on our hands okayyyy

why do i feel like we’ll see the tringhams again

uncle lemons strikes again with LEMONS

whats in the letter????

from russell??? why r u so embarrassed edward

thats mighty homosexual of you good sir

episode 13: fullmetal vs flame

so this one is called fullmetal vs flame which makes me think theyre animating that bonus chapter??!!!??!!! yes!!!!!

colonel sarcasm?? nice ed

i too enjoy mocking roy toy

al found a cat

he definitely did

yup

um who’s yelling

probably mustang that dumpster fire of a man

BREDA!!!!!!!!!

black hayate!!!!!!! baby!!!!!!!

FUERY!!!!! he’s so small

breda is a mess omg

havoc is a mess too

kitty! “he called to me” precious al

these boys are a trainwreck 

oh sad kitty flashback

mustang is such a freak 

yeaH i wondER if mustang knows marcoh hmmmmmm HMMM

“names not familiar” yeah sure baby all yall ishval war criminals know each other

ARMSTRONG!!! hey!!!

ummm wtf fuhrer bradley 

UM WHO IS THE LADY UM

hughes is a mESS

ed’s gremlin face gives me life

roy with hayate...im scared

take that dog away from him

yayayay bonus chapter fight scene!

shut up miniskirt man 

oh no take the mic away from hughes

“you just want a promotion!!!” “give back my girlfriend!!!” im dying

i too would love to put a fist in mustang’s face

“too slow” damn idk that was kinda hot

but no im still gonna kill him

he’s so stupid

this is so chaotic

oooh cut the glove yessss

ope never mind

oh great he’s getting flashbacks... well shit happens when you commit war crimes

“ehhh???”

oh hmm theyre saying ishBal in this one instead of ishVal

ill probably still write ishval im more used to that

oh no black hayate she’s gonna pop a cap ive seen this clip before

she did it

“strict mommy” oh um ok

poor kitty cat

scar IS heather

episode 14: destruction’s right hand

back in liore with some more amestrian war crimes on the docket for today

ayyy envy our favorite morally corrupt they/them

gluttony’s snack time

new op lets gooooo

im not vibing as much but hey its kinda poppin

oh hey armstrong what up baby

to be fair ed did meet marcoh with armstrong in manga canon so

hahaha no thats not the fullmetal alchemist...thats alphonse!!!

marcoh’s voice sounds different hold on 

yep different VA

dr marcoh’s alchemical oobleck 

oh hey basque grand u sexy mustachioed bootlicker you shouldnt be here

what the FUCK he’s a weapon of mass destruction

i wish so hard netflix let you screenshot so i could add pics for added value!!!

if philosophers stones fall under grand’s jurisdiction then he is VERY SUS

he aint it

ope hey scar 

this is an odd amalgamation of plot points

oops boy bye

ive always enjoyed scar’s CLEARLY adidas brand track pants

ummmm why did scar’s brother have BROWN hair

i- ok

i miss j michael tatum

ooooooh armstrong baby i was wondering where you were!

rose!!!! tell him!!! fuck u hakuro!!!!

trying to help?? dont make me laugh you’re a general in the amestrian military

episode 15: the ishbal massacre

kinda early for the ishval talk imo?? wonder what we’ll learn

armstrong is literally the buff rasputin trope on tiktok rn

“accidentally” shot an ishvalan child. hmm yeah no

envy just sneezed

HEY KIMBLEE YOU LITTLE SHIT

kimblee looks like christmas came early

they gave roy a stone??????? sounds noncanonical but ok

basque grand is literally wildin out fuck that guy

yuriy and sara’s skeletal remains just sneezed in the ground

wait a damn minute

wait a fucking minute

did roy

shoot

yuriy and sara

ROY SHOT WINRY’S PARENTS

and now hes gonna shoot himself

IM 

im taking a lap around my apartment OH MY GOD WHAT IN THE HELLLLLLLL

IM NEVER GOING TO RECOVER FROM THIS 

FINANCIALLY OR OTHERWISE

im texting my sister about it right now and just SCREAMING

OH NO NO NO MARCOH DO NOT TELL ED WHO KILLED THE ROCKBELLS

oh good he ran away

i literally CANNOT handle them finding out about this

ahaha roy shoots the gun in the air again

roy take that glove off its raining

riza’s leg sweep was way less funny this time

WAIT IT JUST OCCURRED TO ME THAT ROY WAS AT THE HOUSE AND SPOKE TO WINRY AND PINAKO

i mean hes no idiot he knew

what did marcoh just do to scar im confused

nothing will ever make sense to me again after what ive just witnessed

feral al lets gooo

so this episode’s events were pretty similar. other than marcoh.

AND THE FUCKING ROY MUSTANG ISSUE...,........... 

OH NOOOOOO 

MOMS VOICE???

MOMS VOICE????

episode 15 said hey bitch lets watch your world come CRASHING The FUCK DOWN

[booklovingturtle]

A Sweet Suli Spice (Kanej GVBB)

A/N: AH I can’t believe the time has finally come for me to share this with you all! I had so much fun working on this in the midst of the worst and most stressful semester of my life!

Shout out to my gang, Spice of Life, for making this so much fun bc they are all so talented and easy to work with! The Corporalki both understood my writing which made the revising/editing process really smooth. They made sure the fic you’re about to read is actually understandable. They read this more than once and in the midst of their own crazy lives which I will never not be thankfull for. The Materialki are ridiculously talented. You HAVE to click their links to check out their work. I know they all worked really hard on them and it totally paid off.

Also big thank you to @grishaversebigbang​ for hosting this and being a terrifying yet wonderful Master of Tides.

Please feel free to comment, reblog, or message me your reactions to this! It’s the first super long pic that I’ve ever written and I’m really proud of it. Okay enough rambling…ik y’all just want the fic!

Corporalki: @ninxszenik , @ethereal-magia

Materialki: @theartistwitch  @wavesofinkdrops @xan-drei

Masterlist: Don’t have an Ao3 but I do have a master list of all my fics.

Summary: Inej Ghafa hasn’t seen her family in four years. Not since she’s been taken. Now that it’s been so long since she’s seen them, Inej is scared and nervous to go back. One night, while sitting on the rooftop, Kaz asks her to teach him Suli. That inspires Inej to fight her nerves and finally find her family. She asks Kaz to go home with her and he takes this opportunity to learn more about her and her people. Once home, Inej is faced with a guilt of her past, the fear of family’s reactions, and the hope of finally being ghar (home).

The heart of Suli culture flowed with spice-flavored blood and beat to the sound of performance drums. It hummed through Inej’s body every time she whispered her native language to herself under Tante Heleen’s ring-clad fist. She stored the precious words so deep inside of her that she feared the garbled sounds of Kerch would drown out their melodious syllables.

Once she was under the employment of the Dregs, she would practice Suli as often as she could. Some nights she would stare into the mirror, barely recognizing the woman in front of her as she spoke in Suli to herself. She would even write letters to her family in the beautiful script they had taught her. Those letters were always burned before the ink could dry. The content didn’t matter to her. She didn’t write them for the sake of filling a paper with impossible hopes and dreams. She wrote them because she feared losing her mother tongue. It was an irrational fear that she had never been able to vocalize to anyone before. Well, at least before Kaz came into the picture. He had asked her one night if she could teach him Suli and noticed, as he always did, the change in her face at the mention of it.

“I understand if you don’t feel comfortable teaching me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Kaz reached out to place his hand on her leg.

Inej watched his pale, scarred knuckles rest on her knee. They had made their way up to the roof of the Crows Club, as they usually did when Inej was home. Whatever time wasn’t spent up there was used to carefully test the idea of being together.

“It’s not that I don’t feel comfortable. It’s that…” Inej’s words wandered away from her. She watched the way his thumb moved along the inside of her knee. It was such a small touch for someone else; for a different boy and a different girl that touch was meaningless. For them, it was everything.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“No. I want to. I’ve spent so many years away from Ravka and most of my people. I only ever get to speak Suli when I’m working with the Dregs or helping people escape a sinking slave ship. For years, I was afraid that one day, I would wake up and forget the language entirely.”

“Is that possible?” His deep voice sounded raspy but soothing against the black night. “Not to lose it in one day, but for you to just forget Suli that easily?”

Inej nodded slowly. “I already have.” It broke her heart to admit it. “When I first arrived to Ketterdam, everything came to me in Suli. Dreams, thoughts, speech. I had to learn to filter my words into Kerch. Now I find that more and more of my thoughts and dreams come in Kerch than they do in Suli.”

Kaz was silent for a few heartbeats. Inej felt as if she had stripped herself bare in front of the entire Barrel. It was odd to feel that way around Kaz now. He had seen and touched parts of her that no one else was ever given permission to. Kaz knew her like no other person could, yet this was a part of her she hadn’t accepted about herself, let alone explained to him. There was an intimacy that came with talking about her culture that made her feel exposed.

“The language is not the only thing that ties you to the culture, Inej. You will always be Suli as long as you carry it in your heart.”

Tears surprised Inej by burning the back of her eyelids. “Come home with me,” she spoke through the lump in her throat.

He looked taken aback. “Home? You mean Ravka?”

She nodded. Inej had felt confident the first time she asked the question, but the way Kaz was looking at her now made her doubt her request.

“Yes. To Ravka. To my family. I-I’ve been thinking about going back for a while now. I even asked Nina for her help in tracking my family down.”

“I didn’t know that,” Kaz’s eyebrows came together in a way that meant he was already calculating things. She recognized that look: scheming face.

“You may be Dirtyhands on this island, Brekker, but that doesn’t mean you’re privy to everything east of Kerch.”

Kaz grinned wickedly. “Maybe not east, but we all know that I was able to conquer the North quite easily.” This was also a new side of Kaz that she had gotten to know over the last few months: one that was playful without an edge of cruelty attached to it. The air around them changed and Inej no longer felt the sadness that usually came with thinking about home.

“We conquered the Ice Court together. With the help of some friends, which you had to beg for help from, if I remember correctly.”

Kaz looked appalled. “I never begged.”

“So you admit that you did need our help.”

“Need is a strong word, Inej. The only things I need in this world are food, air, and you.”

It was her turn to look speechless. Kaz was rarely ever so direct with her about his feelings for her. She knew, of course, that he cared for her as she did for him. It was one thing, however, for her to know it and another for him to be so forward about it.

“And because I need you, Inej, my answer is yes. I want to go to Ravka with you. I want to go everywhere and anywhere with you. We’ll conquer the world together if that’s what you want. I want to be wherever you need me to be.”

Kaz’s words echoed in her head. She would hear them every time she thought of home. Her real home. Thanks to Nina’s help, Inej was sailing to Ravka within months with Kaz by her side.

The Wraith soared through the water and, in what felt like one night’s rest, Inej’s crew was docking The Wraith in Os Kervo’s main dock. From the stern of her ship, Inej could hear the sound of her crew talking and moving. The water lapped against the underside of her ship, gently rocking her reflection back and forth.

Inej prayed in Suli as she strapped Sankt Petyr and Sankta Alina to her forearms. She tried to quell the anxious shake of her hands while Sankta Marya and Anastasia were readjusted on her thighs. Sankt Vladimir fit snugly into her boot, making Inej wonder what her mother would say at the sight of her in Fabrikator-made boots, not Suli slippers. Sankta Lizabeta with her rose-engraved handle sat at her belt, hidden under the folds of her black Suli wrap.

When not in front of a roaring crowd, the Suli were a reserved people. Despite Tante Heleen’s disgusting portrayal of her culture, Inej still loved the vibrant colors of Suli dupattas and embroidered kurtas. When she felt the jerk of the anchor settling into place, Inej realized how long it had been since she dressed in chiffon and silk. She didn’t recognize the Suli woman staring in the mirror staring back at her. For one, the sleeves were tailored to be much longer than she would have normally needed during Ravkan summers. However, she didn’t want anyone to see the network of scars that decorated her skin from years of violence. The second thing that threw off her reflection was the way she’d styled her hair. Though she performed with her hair in a braided coil, Inej knew her mother loved it best when it was wild and loose. Finally, the last time she had seen herself like this was when she was still an innocent girl who yearned to grow into a talented acrobat.

Inej was now so fundamentally different from that child. If anything, the dupatta she was wearing felt like a costume.

Knocking forced her to turn away from her damned reflection.

“Adara aaen,” Inej called out, already knowing who it would be before he stepped into the room.

“I assume that means ‘come in,’” Kaz’s slim figure filled her doorway. He was dressed in an inmanulate suit as usual, gloved hands resting on top of his crow’s head cane and a smirk on his face.

“What?” Inej hadn’t realized the words had come out in Suli instead of Kerch. It was rare for her to mix the languages up like that. The fact that it had even happened spoke of her nerves. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to translate everything into Suli to get some last minute practice.”

Kaz’s arrogant look slipped and he shook his head. “No need to apologize. I love hearing you speak Suli.”

Inej forced a smile to her face. “If the Saints allow it, soon that’s all you're going to hear.” She looked out the port window, watching the lazy rays of sun dance along the sky. Somehow the Ravkan sky seemed to shine brighter than the Kerch one.

“Don’t slip away from me,” Kaz prompted her gently. She realized that she had started to float off into her own thoughts, something she’d found herself doing more and more the closer they’d gotten to shore.

“Are you ready?”

“No. But I don’t think I ever will be.”

“We don’t have to do this, not if you don’t want us to. I’ll go and ask Getz to take The Wraith right back if you’ve changed your mind, or we can take a trip to Nina’s instead. Whatever you want to do, I'll be here for you.”

Inej shook her head. “I might be terrified, but I want to do this. I just feel out of place in a Suli outfit after not having worn one in so long.” Her fingers pulled at one of the tightly knitted seams.

Kaz leaned his cane against the wall, closing the door behind him. He went up to Inej and turned her to face the mirror. “I don’t think your parents will be any less happy to see you if you wore a dupatta or a kefta or a sack. They’ll be too excited to see you.” Kaz’s arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her body into his. Inej felt his warm, solid chest against her back. She inhaled his calming smell, grateful for his presence.

“In Suli, we have a saying for people who have betrayed their kind, who have disgraced them or turned their back on them. Kadema mehim. It’s the worst sort of punishment you could receive for your actions.” She shuddered at the thought of ever hearing those words said to her. Inej herself had only ever used them once.

“I am not the same little girl who was taken from them. They might realize that and see me as forsaken. As someone who has turned away from the Saints.”

Kaz brushed her hair off to one side to rest his head on her shoulder. Kaz’s reflection towered over Inej’s own in the mirror. His sable eyes looked stubborn and unwaveringly serious. “You are many things, Inej, but a traitor is not one of them. It’s true that you are not the same girl you were when they knew you. But they will see that you grew into a brave, strong woman who will stop at nothing to do what is right for the people she loves.

“They will see that you have fought against all the odds and have become an unstoppable force that they should feel blessed to have in their lives. They will love you, Inej. It is impossible for them to not love you.”

This time she didn’t stop the tears that slid down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath and placed a hand against his jaw. The sharp line was lined with light stubble, but that didn’t stop her from running a finger against its curve. Her fingers traced the scar beneath the right edge of jaw, thinking about the other scars that peppered his skin. Many of those scars earned alongside her.

“They will love you, too, Kaz.” Inej knew that he was almost as nervous as she was to meet her family, though he would never voice it out loud.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He kissed her cheek and pulled away. “They might think of me as the man who corrupted their daughter.”

She shook her head. “No, they will think of you as the man who has made their daughter too happy to put into words.”

Kaz stared at his gloves, refusing to make eye contact. “Will they? Have I?”

It was her turn to reach out to him. Inej wrapped her hands around his neck. “Yes and yes. You have made their daughter happier than she ever thought possible.”

Kaz’s hands tentatively grabbed her waist. His eyes were on her lips but he didn’t move. Not until she did. Inej leaned up, catching his mouth with hers. The sounds of the crew and the ocean were replaced by the sound of her heart in her chest. Kaz was always gentle with her. His kisses were soft like the petals of spring and sweet like caramel. He held her like there was nothing that could ever separate them.

Inej sighed, melting into his every touch. It was impossible to feel anxious or scared in his arms. His fingers pressed into her silk wrap and Inej released a gasp. Kaz took that opportunity to take everything she gave him. Her skin suddenly burned. The sweetness was still there, dancing with a fiery spice that surprised her. They had rarely ever held each other this long without the waters swallowing him up.

His hands buried themselves in her long hair. Inej reached into his jacket, feeling the muscles beneath his white shirt. Kaz then broke away, breathing hard and shuddering. His face was flushed and his lips looked deliciously swollen.

Inej, realizing what they had done, began to apologize for having been too forward.

“No. It wasn’t you. Believe me, it wasn’t that.” Kaz shook his head, gloved hands holding hers against his chest.

“But if it wasn’t...why did you stop?” Inej could feel a blush spreading across her cheeks.

“I really didn’t want to,” Kaz’s gaze made goosebumps dance across her skin. “But we need to leave soon if we want to make it to Ivets before dark. And to be quite honest with you, Wraith, I’m not sure how far we would have gone this time. I really didn’t want to stop.”

Inej laughed. “Neither did I. It’s okay. We’ll have time another day. We have the rest of our lives to do that and so much more.”

“Captain,” Getz called from outside her door. “The crew’s settled and waiting for your orders.”

“Duty calls, Wraith.” Kaz’s smile was as sharp as ever. He adjusted the tie she’d crinkled.

Inej pulled her shoulders back, stepped through the doorway and told her crew that they could do as they pleased for a few hours. Within the next hour, she and Kaz were on their way to Ivets, the city where Nina had informed Inej her family would be performing for the next week. Every road they passed brought her closer and closer to her family. Inej could hardly contain her excitement and nervousness. While passing a crowded marketplace, Inej almost barreled into a group of children running across the street.

“Whoa, Inej,” Kaz called as he held her back from stepping into the walkway. “Careful. I know you’re excited to see your family, but even I think it’s a little much to trample a few children along the way.”

“Could you imagine that after getting back to Ketterdam, the Wraith and Dirtyhands voyaged all the way to some unknown city in Ravka just to run over a few children?” she joked, though her voice wavered enough for Kaz to notice.

“When you put it like that...” Kaz’s eyes had the same spark in them that always appeared right before a job. “While that does sound tempting, I think my bloodthirsty reputation will survive despite having let them live.”

By sunset, Inej could hear the pounding of Suli drums. They had passed through the heart of Ivets’ main city before reaching the boundary of an open field. A golden tent heavily embroidered with thick swirls rose high over the clearing. Inej’s breath caught in her throat at the familiar sound of Suli folk music floating outside of its flowing entrance. Sweet curling smoke filled the air with the smell of fried dough, glazed fruits, and…

The smell of her family gatherings to celebrate the Saints. She envisioned her mother, kind and beautiful, carrying baskets full of fresh vegetables for dinner. Her father, strong and brave, chopping potatoes alongside his wife. Her cousins fighting over plates of food. Her aunts handing out sticky sweets. Her uncles setting up place settings.

The music reminded her of the first time she stood on a tightrope. The bottomless drop that yawned beneath her and the open sky that blanketed her. How it felt to be covered in performance glitter and to curl her hair to fall around her round cheeks. She remembered scrapping her hands on trees, trying to beat her cousins to the top. How it felt to look over the Ravkan landscape and see nothing but endless opportunities.

After years of darkness, years of bloodshed, years of the staccato sounds of Kerch, Inej Ghafa was finally home.

Home...and rooted to her spot at the edge of the circus grounds. Ravkans stood in line, waiting to be let into the performance tent; the same tent that she had spent countless days in during the early years of her life. A bronze-skinned man stepped out of the tent, dressed in loose fitted black pants and a thick, colorful coat. His voice was deep and stern as he hollered the rules of the performance out into the crowd of people.

Inej stared in wonder, unsure about who the man was. Chaacha Jilé was the one who used to tame the crowds before they entered the performance area. The man at the entrance was not her uncle.

“Hanzi,” the name came to her with a jolt.

Inej was suddenly flying. Or at least that’s what it felt like as the grass was crushed beneath her racing feet. One minute, she was standing beside Kaz and the next, she was running straight to her cousin, pushing through the crowd of guests until she stood at the very front.

“Hanzi,” she said again, this time facing the man whom she now recognized.

Her cousin’s words died on his lips and he froze, arms limp at his sides as looked at her. “Inej?”

A sob escaped her. She could hear the sound of the crowd’s confusion but she didn’t care.

“Hanzi,” was all that she could say.

His face broke into a smile. A roaring shout came from him as he yelled in Suli. “Inej! Inej is here! Masi Calla! Chaacha Baraz! Inej is home!”

Tears streamed down her face at the sound of her parents’ names: Calla and Baraz. Mama and Papa. Inej waited anxiously as the longest few seconds of her life passed. She could see from the sliver opening in the flaps a flurry of motion. She caught her name be repeated and questions thrown. Hanzi shouted again, tears in his own eyes.

Inej’s whole world froze as Mama and Papa came through the entrance. They stepped out, first looking at her cousin with an agonizing look of hope and confusion on their faces.

“Mama. Papa.”

They turned towards Inej as she called out to them. Her mother’s face was more wrinkled than it had been when she’d been taken. Her hair was still long and elegantly braided to the side. Her father’s beard was mixed with grays where it was once solid black. He was clutching his wife’s shoulder, eyes landing on his daughter for the first time in four years.

“Inej.” He didn’t say her name like Hanzi had. He said it with such certainty and conviction that it made Inej’s knees give out from under her.

Before her body could fully hit the ground, her parents’ arms were around her. She buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around her father’s waist.

“Esfir,” her mother whispered in her ear. Inej couldn’t describe the relief and joy that flooded through her at the word.

Esfir was Suli for ‘little star.’ Late at night, they used to tuck her under her covers with a kiss. Her mother used to say that Inej was her little star and her father would explain that she was their guiding light.

Inej didn’t know how long they sat in the damp grass, crying and hugging and whispering to each other.

“I’m home,” she would say.

“You’re home.” One of them would repeat.

“I prayed to all of the Saints that you would find your way home to us.” Her father said.

“They called us fools. Said that we would never see you again. They told us that you were taken too far for us to ever reach you again,” her mother cried.

“Never,” Inej promised. “I will never be too far to come back home. The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true. My heart is here.”

After some time, Inej realized that the rest of her family had come outside of the tent. Night had fallen and the crowd was now gone. Her older cousins looked as if Sankt Juris had come down to blow his blue flames. Disbelief filled their faces. Some of her younger cousins looked just as shocked, though less afraid of her. Inej also noticed the soft coos of the newest editions to her family. One toddler who must have born within the first year she was at the Menagerie. Two more who looked as though they came along while she was in service with the Dregs.

The Dregs. Kaz.

Inej pulled away from her parents, realizing who else she had forgotten about for the second time that night.

“Mama. Papa. I didn’t come here alone,” her words scratched against her throat. She hadn’t realized the tears had dried out her voice until that moment.

Inej turned around, knowing that Kaz would have waited as long as she needed him to. He still stood towards the edge of the trees. Inej called out to him in Kerch.

Kaz came forward, trying his best not to look like Dirtyhands under the cover of night with his crow’s head cane and thick gloves. Though he no longer needed them with her, Inej knew that he wasn’t ready to hug every member of her teary-eyed family.

Kaz stood beside her. Inej took his hand in hers and squeezed tightly.

“This is Kaz.” Inej had practiced this speech so many times in her head. She had carefully racked her brain for the proper words in Suli to say what she needed to say.

“Kaz and I...we have been through too many things together to explain in one night. Most of the last four years have been cruel and lonely. Kaz has been one of the few good things to come into my life since I was fourteen,” her words choked off. “I ask that you be kind to him and embrace him as a part of my life. He has saved it in many ways over the years. In some ways, it is thanks to him that I am here.”

Her father stood from where he was still crouched in the grass. He approached Kaz, looking more serious than Inej had ever seen him look in her life. He stood a few inches shorter than Kaz, but still managed to look down at him.

“Do you speak Suli?” Baraz asked him.

“No-” Inej was cut off by Kaz.

“Not fluently, but I am learning.” Kaz shocked her by responding in fluid Suli instead of Kerch. He gave her side-eyed look, clearly enjoying the shocked look on her face.

Her father nodded. “Then I can thank you properly. For helping my daughter return to us.”

Kaz bowed his head. “Inej is the wisest, most determined person I have ever met. She would have found her way back to you with or without me.”

Baraz laughed, “Esfir is just like her mother in that way. Nothing stands in the way of her and what she wants.”

Inej smiled in relief. “That is true. And right now, what I want is some stuffed peppers and goulash made the proper Suli way.”

Her mother laughed, standing to embrace Inej once again. “You can have whatever you would like, Inej.”

“My turn!” Hanzi called out from the cluster of cousins closest to her. Inej turned to find him now barreling towards her.

Inej froze for a second, not feeling entirely comfortable with the tight embrace. She tried her best to laugh through the rush of panic. It hadn’t even occurred to her until that moment how her homecoming would be full of physical touching that she wasn’t entirely ready for.

Her arms didn’t move from her sides, but at least she didn’t pull away until he did. Hanzi didn’t seem to register her tight shoulders.

“I can’t believe you’re really back, Inej! What took you so long? Adja has been driving me crazy. She thinks that she’s in charge now because she can do a handstand on the highwire, but now that you’re back, you can prove to her that you’re in charge. I even reminded her that you used to be able to do an entire double front routine on the high wire without a net.” While her older cousin may have gotten older, he still rambled half made up tales as though he hadn’t aged a day.

“I don’t even have the energy to explain how wrong that is,” Inej shook her head at her cousin’s infectious joy. Hanzi had always been one of her favorites because, no matter what, he could always tell some ridiculous story to make her laugh.

“First of all,” a female voice interjected, “I’ve been able to do a handstand on the high wire for years. Second, all I said was that you weren’t in charge, Hanzi.” Adja said from behind him. She was only two years younger than Inej, but she had been terrified of the high wire. While Inej had danced around it barefoot, Adja refused to step onto one.

“Come on, Nej. Remind Adja who the real master is!”

“No,” Calla stood in between her daughter and her nephew. “Inej has only been with us for a few minutes and already you are trying to get her in trouble,” her mother chided Hanzi.

Kaz chuckled from behind her. It was clear from his expression that, while he wasn’t able to understand all of their conversation, the sound of an upset mother seemed to be universally understood.

“Come, Esfir. We’re going to have a proper welcome dinner,” her mother nodded towards the rest of her family. “Disah and Remen, go to the Ivetan market…”

Inej allowed her mother to assign everyone their tasks while she looked back at Kaz. He was smiling, looking proud of her, but she couldn’t tell why.

“What?” she asked him in quiet Kerch.

“You didn’t pull away when he hugged you,” he truly looked proud of her. Inej looked towards Hanzi worriedly.

“No. I didn’t exactly hug him back.” It would have been a lie to act as though she wasn’t disappointed in her reaction to Hanzi’s embrace. It was an unexpected reality of what she had endured all those years ago. “Do you think they noticed?”

“He was too excited to have you back to notice,” Kaz shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is that you didn’t pull away. It wasn’t easy, but you did it, Inej. You’re home and your family couldn’t be more happy to see you.”

She took a deep breath. She hadn’t even realized that her nervousness had started to creep up on her after Hanzi’s hug until now. For a while there, she had forgotten about all of her anxieties. Now that her family had split itself into their roles to prepare for her homecoming diner, she had a quiet moment to be reminded of them.

That was when Kaz, ever supportive and aware of how she was feeling, stepped in to ease her nerves. “Kaz, do you think I should tell them the truth?”

“You don’t owe anyone any explanations. You tell them as much as you want to. It’s your story to tell.”

Inej had known long before that night on the rooftop that she was in love with Kaz. She had known for quite some time. As she stared into his honest eyes, surrounded by the sounds of her family, Inej was reminded of how deep her love for Kaz Brekker went.

“What did I ever do for the Saints to bless me with you,” she wondered out loud.

It was hard to tell with the pale moonlight as her only source of light, but for a moment, Inej thought that she saw Kaz’s face blush. His gaze left her and landed on the starry Ravkan sky.

“I ask myself the same question about you every day that we are together, Inej.”

“Nej!” Adja yelled from the performance tent. “Masi Calla asked me to help you and your...friend...find new clothes.”

Inej looked down at her Suli dupatta. “What’s wrong with what we have on now?”

Adja eyed the Wraith and Dirtyhands with pursed lips. “You both look as though you’re going to a funeral. Tonight is a party, Nej. You need to be dressed in party clothes. Now let's go, Masi might cut the wire during our next performance if I don’t get you both dressed in time.”

Inej remembered how her mother used to fuss over her dirty silks when she came back inside from an afternoon spent playing outside. “You’re right. Mama would absolutely do something like that.”

“Where are we going?” Kaz asked her, keeping up with her hurried steps with his usual ease.

Inej glanced at him. “Oh, so you suddenly don’t speak Suli anymore?” They walked around the performance tent to the line of caravans far behind it.

Kaz smirked arrogantly. “I never said I did. Just that I was learning. You didn’t think that I was going to come and meet your entire family without at least attempting to familiarize myself with the language, did you? It’s not that difficult to memorize a few phrases here and there.”

She pushed him lightly with her shoulder. “How about on the boat? Were you faking then?”

Kaz shook his head. “Technically, I wasn’t faking. I know some words and phrases, but not everything. Not yet. Give me a few weeks with your family and I’ll be fluent.”

Inej rolled her eyes. “Not a chance, Brekker. My language is too poetic for a shevrati like you to con your way in that short amount of time. Memorizing a few parables is not the same thing as being able to use all the beautiful nuances we have.”

“It would be easier if I had some help from a beautiful and smart teacher.”

“You’re right. I think Hanzi would probably be willing to sign up.”

“It’s rude to speak in another language, you know,” Adja said from in front of them. The three of them finally stopped in front of Adja’s family caravan.

Kaz shot a glance at her cousin. Inej translated and he apologized in Suli.

“Not you,” Adja nodded towards Inej. “I meant Nej. She was always a quiet one, you know. At least you got her talking.”

Kaz nodded along pleasantly thought it was clear he didn’t understand. When Inej explained, his bitter coffee eyes looked amused.

“I wasn’t quiet, Adja. Hanzi was just usually screaming over me about nothing.”

Adja giggled and unlocked the door. “That is probably true. I was thinking, you should fit in my outfit from Sankta Day last year instead of just a normal dupatta. As for Ka-s,” she stumbled on his Kerch name, “He can borrow Papa’s performance kurta.”

Kaz looked somber, but didn’t argue. “Chaacha Micta used to make some interesting fashion choices,” Inej explained to him as her cousin went in search of the outfits.

“How so?”

Inej bit her lip, holding back laughter. “Let’s just say that he probably could take a few tips from Jesper.”

His eyes widened. “Inej-”

It was too late. Adja emerged from behind a curtain carrying multiple pieces of thick fabric. For Inej, she had a neatly folded Anarkali suit of rich burgundy. Sparkling gold embroidery lined the long, slightly flared skirt and traced the cuffs of the fitted sleeves. A light, white and gold wrap also came with the outfit. On top of it sat a pair of high heels that matched the wine-colored clothes. Inej took the clothes into her hands, feeling the soft yet firm fabrics that were saved for more festive clothing in her culture.

“It might be a little long for you,” Adja eyed Inej’s smaller frame. “But it will do.”

“Thank you, Adja.”

She shrugged off her cousin’s thanks. Her other hand still held Kaz’s outfit. He was standing dangerously still beside Inej. His face was blank of any reaction, but Inej could only imagine what was going through his head. While her outfit was designed with elegance and grace in mind, Kaz’s was made for a true showman. Or at least for a color blind one.

Chaacha Micta had a performance kurta that was radiant white with orange and green gems cascading down the sleeves. Sunset colored pants were folded to match the sparkling jewels. It was both bright and sparkly, two things Kaz hated in clothing.

“Dhanyavaad,” Kaz mimicked Inej’s Suli to thank Adja. Inej was reminded of how good of a liar he was because if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought Kaz looked almost excited to wear her uncle’s kurta.

Adja beamed, looking between the two. “I don’t think Chaacha Baraz or Masi Calla would be okay with me leaving you two in here alone to change but…” Her cousin broke off and shrugged. “If you brought, Ka-s all the way here, I have to assume that it is not the first time you’ve been left alone.”

Heat flooded Inej’s cheeks. She couldn’t meet Adja’s eyes when she nodded. “It’s okay. Mama and Papa won’t know if you don’t tell.”

Adja continued to look between them. It was the same look Nina had given them before Inej had actually opened up about her relationship with Kaz. A look that said that Adja could see something they couldn’t. She was used to getting that look from her friends or other Dregs, but it was a little unnerving to see that look in the eyes of someone she hadn’t seen in years.

“Just don’t take too long. Chaacha and Masi will seriously cut the rope if they find out about this,” she pointed between Kaz and Inej. She swiftly ran out of the caravan, giggling at Inej’s eye roll.

Once she was out the door, Inej’s focus was back on Kaz. His polite smile dropped with Adja out of sight.

Kaz spoke seriously, “Inej, you know that I care for you deeply. More than anything in this world, I care for you.”

Warmth filled her heart, but her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Because I care for you, I want your family to like me.”

“I already told you-”

“Yes, I know. I’m wonderful. A trickster god amongst men. But that’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is it?”

Kaz looked at her in disbelief. “Do you even have to ask me that question? This,” Kaz raised the clothes in his hands to meet her eye level. “I’ve never seen anything so…”

Laughter burst out from Inej. She quickly moved to cover her mouth with her hands, but there was no concealing the way her body shook from amusement.

“That is a traditional Suli kurta, Kaz. It’s an important part of my culture.”

He shook his head. “I have seen kurtas. This does not look like that. This looks like some nightmare Jesper and Nina would have designed.”

“Poor Dirtyhands is too insecure to wear something so dazzling,” Inej placed a hand on his cheek. She ran a finger down the sharp cut of his jawline. “I’m sure you’ll look great. Not as good as Chaacha would in it, but a close second.”

Kaz’s eyes held a playful fury. His ebony eyes only ever fixed on her that way. It was a look that promised both a punishment and sweet reward for her words.

“If the Dregs ever find out about this…”

A wicked smile broke onto her face. “I can’t imagine how they would. I keep all your secrets.”

“Don’t even think about telling them, Wraith.” One of Kaz’s arms found her waist.

“Jesper, on the other hand,” her fingers moved to run through his hair. “Jesper is a bit of a big mouth. If this somehow got to him, I don’t think there is any way of stopping him.”

“I can think of at least twelve different ways I could stop him with this kurta alone.” His face moved closer to hers.

Inej turned so his lips landed on her cheek. “No time for that, Brekker. We have to get dressed.”

He sighed and gave the bedazzled shirt a weary look. “If you ever doubt how I feel about you, Inej, just remember this moment.” Before she could respond, Kaz gestured towards the room Adja had gone into to find the clothes. “I’ll change in there.”

Time and time again, Kaz reminded her of why she fell for him in the first place. He had seen every part of her and touched almost all of her, yet Kaz never made assumptions about her limits. No matter how far they had or hadn’t gone, Kaz always asked for permission. On the nights when all she could do was hold his hand, he never pushed her to go further. Even now, after what had happened on the boat and having had met her family, Kaz gave Inej the privacy she needed without hesitation.

With Kaz gone from her sight, Inej was left to unstrap her daggers and quickly dressed into Adja’s Anarkali suit. After a few minutes, Inej stopped hearing Kaz’s quiet cursing.

“I’m almost ready.” She called to him through the curtain.

He shuffled around on his side of the caravan. “This looks even worse than I imagined.”

Inej ignored him, debating whether or not to strap on her beloved blades for the feast.

“Inej?”

“I’m almost ready, you can come out.”

Kaz had been right. The kurta had looked worse than she had imagined. The shirt hung at little too loose from his slight frame, but the pants were too short for his tall stature. They stopped just above his ankles, showing a peak of his white socks.

“Oh.” Inej cringed. “You were not joking.”

Kaz looked at her intently. “You look beautiful, Inej.”

Inej had yet to see herself in the mirror, but Kaz’s reaction was all she needed to confirm what she had already suspected. Adja was slim like Inej but stood a few inches over Inej . The rest of her outfit fit as it was tailored to. The top complimented her figure while the bottom flared out into an elegant skirt that pooled around Inej’s feet more than she would have normally allowed. It wasn’t perfect, but she loved it regardless.

“Traditionally, I would have special Sankta Day earrings that have some sort of token to represent a Saint.” Inej absentmindedly tugged at her ears. “Though, I haven’t worn any earrings since leaving the Menagerie.”

His look softened. Kaz forgot all about his unfortunate attire. “Would you like to? I’m sure Adja would let you borrow hers.”

“The holes have closed by now. It’s okay. I don’t need them. I have these.” She slid Sankt Petyr, the dagger he had given her so long ago, into place. She tried to ignore the fact that it took her far less time to strap all seven of her blades into place than it had to properly dress herself in the Sankta Day skirt.

“I’ll tell Adja we’re ready.”

“Wait,” Kaz’s fingers intertwined with hers. He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a matingkia made of expensive gold and rich-colored stones. It was simple, as far as Suli headpieces went, with one clear diamond in the middle of a small ruby flower.

“Kaz,” Inej’s breath caught in her throat. “Where did you find this?” Her fingers curved delicately around the precious metal.

“A vendor in Ketterdam had a tent full of Suli jewelry. He has a Suli wife that makes all the items to sell.”

“Do you believe him?” It was more than possible that the vendor’s story was a ruse to get more money from gullible tourists visiting the island.

“I’ve met her.”

“You did?”

“Yes. When I asked her to make this one for you.”

The matingka felt heavier in her hand than it had moments ago. “You asked her to make this for me?” Inej tried to envision Dirtyhands entering a Kerch market to meet with an ederlly Suli woman. She thought of how long he must have spent picking the design, and then jewels to place in it.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered to him. “She’s clearly very talented.”

Kaz tried not to look too smug which was a change for him. “Only the best for my Wraith.”

“Sometimes we wear them for special holidays.” Inej debated whether or not to say the next part. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by making any assumptions. “These are traditionally given to Suli women by their father or husbands.”

She saw him nod nervously. “I know. The woman, Gintha, explained to me the tradition. She said fathers would give them to their daughters and pray that the Saints would give them wisdom as they grew into strong women.”

“Did she tell you why husbands give them to their brides?” She couldn’t deny the fear or eagerness that she felt waiting for his answer.

“To symbolize the love and respect he promises to show her every day after they are wed. The same love and respect that I have felt for you every day for too many years to count.”

Inej’s body was frozen with emotion. Love. Kaz loved her. He didn’t just love her. He respected her. Respected her boundaries and dreams and goals.

“Nej! Are you done yet?” Adja suddenly banged against the door of the caravan.

The reality of her situation flooded back to Inej. For a few moments, she had forgotten who she was. Where she was. Inej took the head piece, not bothering to hide her flustered look as she pushed Kaz back behind the curtain.

“Get out of those clothes. Hurry!” Kaz laughed and she realized how her words sounded. “No! That’s not what I meant. I mean change back into yours! My family will just have to deal with your Kerch suit during dinner.”

She rushed back to the door and let Adja in. “I’m almost ready.”

Adja looked her up and down. “It fits better than I thought. And Ka-s?”

“The clothes didn’t fit him so he’s changing back into his. Here,” she handed Adja the matingka. “Can you help me put this on?”

“Did he give this to you?” she pointed towards the curtain.

“Yes. Now help me put it on. I’ve never put one on myself. Papa only ever put it on me once.”

Adja waved her off. “It’s easy.” She spun Inej around and took a few hair pins from her own brown hair to fasten it into place. “There! Done! Just in time.”

Kaz walked into the room, looking much less miserable now that he was dressed in his own clothes.

“Tell her that her father’s wardrobe should be burned.”

“He says that he loved the kurta and is sorry that it didn’t fit,” Inej easily lied. “Also your tie is crooked again.”

He cursed under his breath and nervously put into place as her cousin spoke.

Adja beamed at her. “I don’t believe that’s true, but it doesn’t matter. Come on! Everyone is waiting for you.”

Inej’s stomach turned over nervously. She had been so overcome with emotions when she’d first greeted her family. Those emotions were starting to settle, but in their place grew the seeds of anxiety once again.

Inej and Kaz trailed behind Adja as they made their way back from the caravan section of their carnival to the performance area. Inej looked around the cool night air, keeping track of all the things that looked familiar and different at the same time.

She pointed to a smaller performance tent made of a thick white sheet. “What’s that?” she asked Adja.

“We started to tour with a second family about two years ago. Hanzi is engaged to the daughter of their paira vaala.” A breeze opened the flap of the white tent and Inej could see the bed of coals used for the paira vaala, or fire walker.

“Hanzi’s getting married?” Inej couldn’t imagine her cousin as she had last known him having a fiancé. He was always too loud and playful when around his family, but unearthly quiet around other girls their age.

“I know! We were all just as surprised as you were. Chaacha Jilē almost fainted.”

“He didn’t tell them that he was seeing her?” Inej’s surprise only grew. While she may not have gotten her parents’ permission before choosing to be with Kaz, her situation hadn’t given the option of choosing the favored Suli traditions.

“He didn’t even tell me! And I’m his favorite bhara. At least I have been since you…” Left? Were taken? Disappeared? Inej could hear the end of Adja’s sentence even if her cousin didn’t want to fill it in.

“I remember that,” Inej awkwardly filled the silence. She pointed to a section of tents reserved for carnival games. “Kila,” one of their older cousins, “once bet me thirteen kruge that I couldn’t win every game in the tent.”

“Kroog?” It wasn’t until the word left Adja’s mouth that Inej realized that she’d forgotten the Suli word for currency or money. It was such a small thing to forget, but it made her stop in her tracks.

“I-” she started to explain. “I’m sorry. I guess I just haven’t used that word in Suli in a few years. Uhm,” Inej racked her brain, digging deep into her memories to find the right word.

“What’s wrong?” Kaz, who had been silently listening to their conversation, spoke up. He couldn’t understand them, but he could see Inej’s face change. “I think I heard you say ‘kruge.’”

She shook her head, momentarily confused as Suli and Kerch collided with each other in her head. Rupe. The word finally came to her in a blunt memory. “I forgot the Suli word for money,” she said to him in Kerch and then explained it to her cousin again.

“Oh!” Adja didn’t seem fazed by her cousin’s slip up. “Kila was such a gambler. A terrible one too. Though I guess he doesn’t need to worry about that anymore. He married a wealthy Shu family. How he wiggled his way into that, I have no idea.”

Inej nodded along as Adja rambled. She was no longer listening to her cousin’s end of the conversation. Instead, she began filing through the mental dictionary in her brain. What other words had she forgotten?

Bread? Roti. Butterfly? Titali. Bowl? Katora. Horse? Ghora. Ocean? Samudara.

Random words were tossed and turned in her head. Adja continued to talk about their uncles and aunts. She went through family gossip as quickly as Nina went through maple-drizzled waffles. Inej didn’t hear any of it. All she could hear was the sound of her Suli-Kerch dictionary flipping page after page.

Torsion wrench? What was the Suli word for the little tool she had used numerous times to pick a lock? Had she ever known the word? Had she ever needed to use that word in her native language before? Would she even need to say torsion wrench during dinner tonight?

Ketterdam isn’t all that bad. At least I learned how to pick locks using a torsion wrench.

No, there was no way she could even imagine herself saying something like that to her family. Inej realized that she had let her nerves run a little too wild. Adja hadn’t even noticed when she said “kruge” instead of “rupe”. The odds of her family being upset with her for not remembering a word here and there were small.

Kaz tugged on the fabric of her skirt, drawing her attention to him once again. His dark eyes met hers, silently asking her once again if she was okay. This time she didn’t have to force a smile on her face to reassure him.

“How did Mama put together a dinner so quickly?” Inej said the moment the smell of paprika, garlic and bell peppers hit her. They had circled back around to the performance tent. Instead of it holding a crowd of entertained Ravkans, tonight, the tent would be used to spread out a Saints-worthy feast.

Adja beamed at her. “Masi Calla asked all of our masis and chaachas that were cooking dinner for after the show to add extra coals to the fires. Some of the food had to be bought from the markets so it won’t be exactly like you’re used to, but it’s all that we could get together so quickly.”

“It’s perfect. You could have fed me rocks and I would have been just as happy to be home.”

The heavy tent flaps were pulled wide open and she could see dark-haired figures moving frantically around the tent. The round seats used for audience members were stacked on top of each other. Inej remembered how long it took to carry the iron seats from the caravans to place them in their rows. She had been too small to carry them herself, so she would hold the bottom half of a stack while Hanzi carried the brunt of the weight.

The high ropes were still strung up from their looming poles. She itched to climb up and test her technique. The chaacha who had first taught her how to balance was strict about proper posture. Though she had no real use for it when sleuthing for the Dregs, she could still hear his sharp calls to straighten her spine or keep her gaze forward.

“Make room! Inej the Great has entered the tent!” Hanzi exclaimed. His voice cut through the flurry of her family’s movement. Inej realized why her uncle had stepped down to let Hanzi handle the crowds. His deep voice was effective when it came to getting a crowd’s attention.

Toffee and hazel eyes all met hers. All of her family, almost twice as many as earlier, froze where they were to stare at her and Kaz. His gloved fingers curved in hers, but no one seemed to care at that gesture as much as they cared about the dazzling headpiece sparkling in the candlelight. Her parents had tears in their eyes as if it was the first time they were seeing her again. Inej had to hold back tears of her own. She saw the circle of food splayed out around the lush carpets dragged from Saints know where to cushion the hard ground.

Sarma, stuffed peppers, bogacha, and xaimoko were still in their metallic cooking pots, steaming as if the fire had just been dosed from under them. Pirogo and xaritsa sat in porcelain crockery that Inej suspected came from the Ivetan market her cousin had mentioned. Silver kettles of chao filled the room with a lingering sweet smell. Dark cups of kafa were already served and in the hands of some to her cousins.

The meal flooded her with too many memories to catch at once. She was swimming in a stream of random memories. Her tongue burning from spicy stuffed peppers and then from chugging a fresh cup of chao in a vain attempt to ease the sting. Mama teaching her how to prepare the sarma properly. Papa stiring a pot of goulash.

“Why are you just standing there? Come! Sit!” Papa gestured to a spot right in front of Inej’s favorite platter.

She blinked back tears. No more tears. Tonight was for celebrating all that she had come back to, not for mourning the years she had lost.

“Some of it had to be bought so it won’t taste exactly like you remember but-” Her mother rushed to her side, holding her daughter’s hand and pulling her and Kaz towards her father.

“Mama, I don’t care how the food tastes. This is already so much more than I could ask for. Just being with you and Papa and everyone else is enough for me.”

Her mother’s dark brows furrowed. She took great pride in her cooking, as a Suli should. “Yes, yes, but still...If you had sent us some sort of message so we could have been prepared, the food would have all been ready. We would have canceled the show much sooner. But no, leave it to our little Esfir to show up as if the Saints had let her fall from their very sky at random.” The novelty of Inej’s arrival was definitely wearing off if her mother was already scolding her.

She laughed despite her mother’s pointed words. Inej settled in her seat comfortably. Kaz sat beside her, looking so out of place in this bright colored tent surrounded by equally colorful kurtas. She couldn’t believe the sight in front of her. Kaz Brekker being handed a steaming cup of chao in his crisp, black suit.

Her own hands were already clutching a plate overflowing with food. Her father had served her heaping spoonfuls of every dish that sat before her. He paused, looking at Kaz curiously.

“Eh...food?” Her father surprised her with the Kerch word. She hadn’t known he spoke any Kerch.

Kaz nodded, “Krpya.”

Her father looked excited by his answer. He piled almost as much food on his plate as he had on hers. Kaz was excellent at hiding his emotions, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. He took the plate with open arms. Everyone, including Inej, watched as Kaz lifted a fork to take a scoop of the rice-stuffed green pepper. He didn’t even flinch at what she could assume to be the spiciest bite of food he’d ever had. He chewed slowly, ignoring the flush that creeped up his neck. Judging from the smell, her family hadn’t held back when it came to spices that night. Finally he smiled, thanking her father for the food.

That seemed to be the cue her family had been waiting for. Everyone unfroze and went for a plate.

Kaz waited until they were no longer staring at him to reach for the tea. She had to bite back a laugh as he gulped down the entire cup.

“Spicy?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

Kaz looked at her as if she had grown an extra ear. “Spicy? Inej, I thought I was going to die.”

This time she couldn’t hold back the laugh. Everything about the night filled her with so much joy and laughter that Inej had to put down her food for a second. Her stomach burned from the giggles that shook her body. Kaz was actually blushing as her cousins closests to her looked at them.

“Kaz said the food almost killed him.” She explained to them. “The Kerch prefer their food much less seasoned. Mostly a hint of salt and pepper. It’s actually very sad.”

All of them broke out into smiles.

Her mother who was still standing behind them said, “Tell Ka-s that he’ll have to get used to real food if he’s decided to stay with you.” She placed a hand on Kaz’s shoulder affectionately.

Kaz, clearly not expecting the sudden touch, went still. His body tensed beneath the touch and his jaw tightened. Her mother noticed the change in his posture and jerked her hand back. She looked at her daughter quickly, but Inej could see the hurt and confusion in her eyes even if it was just for a second.

“It’s not you, Mama.” She rushed to explain for Kaz. His eyes had dropped to the plate resting on his lap.

“I told you that our life in Ketterdam wasn’t easy.” She tried to find a way of explaining without revealing too much of Kaz’s past. “He isn’t used to people touching him unless they’re trying to hurt him. Give him time, Mama.” That part was at least true.

Her mother nodded, looking apologetic but no less confused. This time she was looking at the visible scars along Inej’s arms. Her cousin’s outfit didn’t hide them the way her earlier outfit had.

Hanzi, who was watching the whole exchange from across the tent, spoke out. “What was it like, Nej? In Ketterdam?”

His father, Chaacha Jilé, used a serving spoon to give him a hard tap on the head. “Hanzi!”

“What? We were all thinking it!”

His father shook his head. “You know better than to ask that kind of question.”

“It’s okay.” Inej cut in before her uncle could use the spoon again. “Hanzi is right. You all want to know what happened. I don’t blame you.”

“See!” Hanzi pointed a vindicated finger towards Inej.

“Hush!” His father waved the spoon in front of his son.

She bit back a smile and continued. Inej looked at Kaz. His rigid spine loosened a bit, but he still looked a bit on edge. “I’m going to tell them.”

A small smile tugged on his mouth. “You know I support whatever decision you make.”

It was all the encouragement she needed. “Mama, Papa, you may want to sit down. It’s a long story and most of it isn’t pleasant.”

Her mother worriedly sat beside her. Her father put an arm around her shoulders, physically supporting his wife in the same way Kaz had just supported her.

“I was taken by slavers. They broke in and took me just as the sun had started to rise. They brought me to Ketterdam, where I was sold to a heartless woman who made me do unspeakable things for terrible men. Kaz worked for a group of young men trying to build a new business and went to meet with the woman at the request of his boss. I realized I could escape with his help, so I offered him my skills as an acrobat. He agreed to employ me legally and without having to do any of the things that I was doing there. He taught me how to defend myself. I worked as his spy and I was good at it.

“Ketterdam… it can be an ugly place that brings the ugliness out of even the best people. I’ve done things I pray the Saints will one day forgive me for; but I’m not the same girl I was when I was taken. If I was, I don’t think I would have made it through the first night in that city. I will never be that girl again, no matter how hard I try. And I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.

“I was able to eventually afford a ship and a crew to run it. Now, I'm the captain of a crew of people dedicated to keeping other people from having to go through what I went through. I hope that the work I do at sea can help weaken any shadows I have created during my years in Ketterdam.”

Inej had, of course, changed a few details in her story. There was no way she was going to tell her entire family that the “business” Kaz was running was actually a deadly street gang. She was also never going to explain to them exactly how good at her job she had gotten. They would never understand the things she had done. In fact, if they could see the crimson stains on her hands, they’d probably be so repulsed that they would kick her out on the spot.

Her mother was crying again. Her father looked heartbroken as if all of his worst fears had come true.

“Inej…” Adja spoke first. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Inej was surprised to realize that she wasn’t in tears as she feared she would have been. “It’s not your fault.” She looked at her parents, realizing that they must have carried some guilt with her disappearance just as she carried the shame of the things she had done.

“Nor is it yours. We couldn’t have known those slavers were going to break into our home. You two did everything you were supposed to. When things were at their worst, I could hear your voices teaching me how to pray to the Saints. I was able to survive so long because I always carried the hope you taught me to hold on to. The hope that I would one day return to you.”

Her father looked furiously stubborn as he said, “And you have. You are home, Inej. That’s all that matters. We don’t care what you had to do to get here. As long as you are here with us again.”

“The Saints don’t punish actions done to survive.” Her mother agreed. “You don’t need to ask them or us for forgiveness. Forgiveness is earned, Inej, and you have been through more than enough to deserve it. We know you. We know you have a good heart. We love who you are now because it brought you back to us.”

“You will always be our esfir.” Her father held his daughter's trembling hands.

Those words were like the first bite of bread after a year long fast. Inej hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear them, or how much it would mean to hear them from her parents. Her father’s touch didn’t wipe away any of the blood on her hands nor did it take away the dark memories she would always carry. But it did make her feel hopeful for the future. For so long she feared that she could never return home; she feared her family would reject the woman she was sharpened into. Her parents didn’t look like they were ready to throw her out. In fact, they looked like they were ready to hold her tighter than ever.

“Wait a second,” Hanzi once again drew all the attention in the room back to him. “You said you were a spy and now a ship captain?”

Inej wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Yes.”

“And that Ka-s...runs a business?”

“Yes, Hanzi.”

He looked suspiciously between Kaz and Inej. Then at the leather gloves and silver crow’s head of his cane. His jaw dropped. “Inej, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”

She bit her lip, unsure of how to answer.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Kaz’s gravelly voice was full of pride at being recognized.

“Don’t look so smug. I don’t think he recognized you until I said that I was a ship captain.”

“INEJ!”

She turned back to Hanzi. He was almost buzzing with excitement to hear her answer. “Are you who I think you are? Is he who I think he is?”

Her mother narrowed her eyes at her nephew.“Inej is whoever she wants to be. As for Ka-s, he’s Inej’s...”

Inej looked to Kaz for the answer. They had never felt the need to use a word to explain their relationship. Everyone on their tiny stretch of an island knew better than to question Dirtyhands or the Wraith. Their friends didn’t need an explanation. What she shared with Kaz went deeper than anything she could describe.

“What?”

“They want to know what you are to me.”

“Then tell them.”

“What do you want me to tell them?”

“What do you want to tell them?”

“That you’re the person I love most in this world.”

His smile was blinding. “I’m more than okay with that answer.”

“Kaz is my heart.”

Adja cooed, clutching her heart. Her mother looked approvingly at Kaz. Her father looked relieved by the answer. Hanzi still looked unsatisfied by it.

“Why are you all just staring at us? Let’s eat!” She mimicked her father’s earlier remark. The silence was once again filled with her family’s celebratory cheers.

“Thank you for coming with me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Kaz looked smug. “I love you.”

Inej smiled, looking around the circle of happiness brought together by a bond that went deeper than blood. “I love you, too.”

A/N Pt 2: Hi hello! If you happened to have read this before January 2, 2020 then you might remember that there used to be a long paragraph at the end of this fic where I acknowledged all of the cultures that I read about as inspiration to flesh out the Suli culture in this fic. Welp, because Tumblr enjoys to make life difficult, it actually decided to erase the entirety of this fic, leaving only the title. Why? I have no idea!!!! But that means I had to do everything and luckily I had all of the fic saved except for this second A/N bc I added it in right before uploading. While I’m incredibly annoyed by Tumblr glitch and am not able to fully write the original acknowledgment, I still want to give add a smaller version of the previous one.

All of cultures I drew from for this fic can be found listed here. The Suli language was a modified mixture of Hindi and Punjabi. The foods are mostly Romani in origin. The names are a mixture of Turkish, Hindi, Romani, and Slavic names. The clothing have all been specifically named. The head piece Inej wore was directly inspired by a South Asian maang tikka however out of respect for this real cultural practice, I changed the name/origin for the fic. Any parables/customs/religious beliefs explained in the fic are completely fictional that were either pulled directly from the SOC series or made up for this fic. Any connection/similarities to real cultural practices are completely coincidental unless I specifically said so. I believe that was everything important that I had in the original acknowledgment. I’m so sorry if anything was left out. If you do feel that I forgot to mention anything in this rewritten version, please let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it immediately! 

[mc-kamuakaneshiro]

Wet & Wild Headcanons

Note: this is based on Wet & Wild Hawaii on Oahu cuz idk what other W&W’s are like in other places. I'm This specific headcanon also suggests platonic relationships instead of romantic ones between MC and the seven brothers. It’s up to your imagination if you want to romanticize them in a specific way I just want to set a level playing field to work on.

Sorry that it’s super long, but if you get to the end comment below what you think or what you want to add to the lists! Thank you and have an awesome day! :D

[Belphegor]

Probably would just chill in the lazy river by himself or with Satan

Too lazy to go on rides with the others

No tan since the lazy river has lots of shady palm trees

Just look at the bb float all day

You and Beel will tell him to get off his ass and do some fun rides together

I mean it’s Wet&Wild dude

You gotta have a little bit of fun

After a lot of coaxing he goes to the Wave Pool with you guys and lounges there

That way he can hang out with you and Beel

Since the brothers had never been to W&W before he just thinks the Wave Pool is just a pretty community pool with a shore

That’s because he’s only seen it when the wave machine was off

Had to learn the hard way that it made waves

Almost got seasick and had to have you and Beel comfort him after the the waves were over

[Beelzebub]

Goes on all the rides with no fear at all

Really nonchalant about it too

Tries to bring Belphie with him to ride one of the big Kahunas

Belphie gives up walking half way up the hill

He’ll get a little sad but you can cheer him up by going with him on the ride

Is the fastest bean on all the rides

Accidentally had to kick the top of the Shaka to avoid flying off of the ride

He has the most gravitational energy of all the brothers

They don’t dare to go on the Tornado with him because he tends to capsize the raft

They learned their lesson the second time they did it

Maybe would be good at surfing

He works out a lot so I think he has some stable footing

I don’t know what will get bled dry first

Beel’s wallet or Wet&Wild’s food inventory

Probably the latter

[Asmodeus]

bold of you to assume he’ll go swimming

Boy did his hair to look nice not ruin it

But he will take NOICE af pics with MC

(Only if you stay dry tho)

(If you look like a wet dog he ain’t gonna have none of your shit)

Hits on all the Japanese tourists

And I mean ALL

Primarily at the bar

Partially to get drinks

But mostly to get girls

All the girls (and some guys) will want him

And (the rest of) the guys will most likely pick a fight with him

If the guys are local he’ll definitely get intimidated

Pigeon is much more intimidating than most English dialects (other than New Yorkian)

And locals can get pretty aggressive if you rub them the wrong way

Idk how he’ll worm his way out of it

Probably will go to Lucifer for help

[Satan]

HONEY IS TOO PREPARED FOR THIS

Literally has all the necessities and more

Totally smuggled in everything in a Mary poppin’s purse

Refuses to call it a purse

Big mom energy

Probably would just sit near the wave pool reading his book to catch some rays or sit on a floaty in the lazy river with Belphie if he needs some shade

Would definitely put a gallon ziplock bag over his book to keep it dry

Plan fails cuz Mammon‘s just accident prone

Would go on rides only on certain conditions

Either if MC asks

Or if the brothers say Lucifer would dominate him in a race

Then IT. IS. O N.

Will not back down from beating Lucifer on Island Racers or the Big Kahuna

Will recruit Beel to win at the Big Kahuna

After race he’s more likely to go on more rides with you and the others

he likes the adrenaline rush that comes with it

He’ll stop when it’s time for lunch so his mom switch can flip back on

[Leviathan]

Originally makes a nest with everydone’s bags and plays video games for like 2 hours

You and Satan get him to go on some rides by bringing some TSL based activities

You’ll most likely have to watch out for him if he goes into the wave pool tho

He might release another sea monster in there if anyone provokes him

Mammon I’m talkin to you Q^Q

If that happens then R U N

You’re in HIS territory NOW

Let Lucifer handle it if that happens

I think he’s actually really good at water sports it’s just that his weeb exterior fools everyone into thinking that he’s not

Obviously he summoned that seven headed sea monster that one time and now there’s no Monster Fair

I’m just saying don’t let him fool ya

[Mammon]

boy gonna be dragging you to ALL the rides no questions asked

All except the Tornado and the Shaka cuz he’s scared shitless just by looking at them

Even more so if Beel’s riding with him

If you’re scared of the rides he’ll be a total tsundere but try to encourage you to go with him so he doesn’t go alone

If you actually wanna go on the Tornado or the Shaka he’ll first refuse but then eventually he’ll go with you cuz again

Baby boi doesn’t wanna be alone

Screams like a BICT H on all the rides regardless of intensity level

No matter where he’s at he’s always gonna get in trouble somehow with someone

It’s up to you if you wanna bail him out of it or if you wanna have your own fun

His bargaining shenanigans alone are gonna take up all of your time so you gotta choose

Other than that you’re gonna have the time of your life with him

[Lucifer]

God damn it all he just needs a break

No matter where he is he has to fix his brothers’ problems

Please help him by preventing one (1) catastrophic disaster

ie. keep either Levi, Mammon, Asmo, or Beel calm so Luci doeesn’t have such a heavy load

He’ll very much appreciate it if you do that

Originally he’ll stay with Levi to watch the bag nest while everyone else goes off somewhere else

When Levi goes swimming with the others he’ll first purchase a few lockers to leave the bags in then he’ll tag along so he can keep an eye on the rest of the group

Finds it endearing to watch everyone flap like idiots in the water

Won’t swim because he refuses to wear anything that’ll even show his ankles

It’s Hawaii, dude. You should be sweating in those slacks

Chances of him swimming increase from 0 To 3 percent if you bought him swim pants, a long sleeve rash guard, tabbies, and hydroskin gloves prior to arriving at the park

That’s like a $200 outfit right there if your treating him yourself

Still most likely won’t swim

But... seeing you splash around having fun with everyone while he’s at the water’s edge makes him feel a little empty inside

He doesn’t say anything tho because there’s no way you nor his brothers will understand.

Right?

Eventually you tell him that Satan challenges him to a race

Being “prideymcprideface” he accepts the challenge and dares to get his hair wet

His brothers will say that the grin on Luci’s face going down that slide next to Satan was one of competition

But deep down Luci is just glad to spend quality time with you and his brothers

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Unforgettable-Chapter Four

Previous chapters on AO3    A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help

Chapter Four

Claire pulled her mascara wand out and it was dry. Damn she thought, I don’t suppose there’s anywhere to buy makeup around here. She threw it in the waste container and dabbed on some lip gloss. The laptop was set up on her small table and she dialed the number with shaking fingers. She sent Jamie a text early in the week asking to Skype on Friday night. She wondered how he would get away from what’s-her-name, but he agreed so she didn’t care.

Her laptop flickered a couple of times and then he was there, smiling at her like she was right in front of him.

“God made eyes that color for one person only Sassenach.”

“Who?”

“Ye of course. How is it going over there? Is the hospital in a safe zone?”

“Sometimes. The second night I was here we had casualties from a raid nearby. Quite an initiation.”

“What kind of work are ye doin there, do ye like it?”

They stared at each other and their mouths moved but the action was happening in the heart. Jamie felt himself slipping back under her spell and Claire wanted to tell him about all the feelings, wars, doubt, and capitulation she was going through. They kept the conversation light.

“How can you be so far from the laptop and I can still see you clearly?

“I use my smart TV, and you are life-size as I watch ye.”

“Wow, that is awesome. Tell me about Edinburgh.”

And so it went, the benign conversation of two people in love that were not willing to expose themselves to the other. They would both feel the immediate vacuum sucking them out of the happy zone the minute Skype was closed.

They talked every week on Friday, afternoon for Claire, evening for Jamie. A package arrived for Claire and she ran to her room to open the box, so thrilled because it could only be Jamie who sent it. She pulled out a state-of-the-art laptop with a seventeen-inch screen and an exceptional camera. It was loaded with trending software and numerous picture files of his football team, Lallybroch, his camping trips, the fish he caught and the amazing sunsets from the top of the world. The card was handwritten; For the Sassenach, to remind ye of civilization and Scotland. I hope it makes ye happy. Claire hugged the card to her chest and rolled her eyes when someone knocked on her door.

“Claire! Let us in!”

Joe grew impatient and Claire finally opened the door to both of them. Kevin’s eyes lit up when he saw the new technology and he rushed to the laptop to investigate.

“It’s just lovely, I think Jamie is more than a friend all of a sudden.”

“No, it’s a friend present, nothing more. He is getting married, remember.”

“What, so he’s gonna Skype with you all the way to the alter?”

“Something like that.”

“Hey, he set up a gmail for you and sent a message.”

“Really? Claire rushed to the laptop to read it.”

Sassenach, I dinna ken yer email and I dinna like to wait. Send me a picture of the jungle! JF

Someone was knocking on the door but this time she could hear the urgency and pulled the door open.

“Report to OR on the double, Doctor Anderson is waiting.”

Cutter had already completed ten hours of surgery today, and so had she. She closed the door behind her and ran to the surgical wing. For the next two hours, she, Cutter, and another nurse worked hard to save a young man who came in with a meat hook stuck in his abdomen. Claire was clamping blood vessels as she found them, her arms deep in the abdomen, hands, and forearms covered in blood as they raced to stem the bleeding from multiple ruptured vessels. She and Cutter on opposite sides of the table, both suturing tissue as fast as they could.

Claire was the last to leave the OR and she was exhausted as she pushed into the scrub room and pulled her gown and gloves off. She held onto the scrub sink like she could collapse any moment and closed her eyes with the water running in front of her. The room was dimly lit, and she washed quickly so she could collapse in her Lazy Boy.

Joe’s phone had a high megapixel camera and he was quite good at using it. The close-ups he took of Claire, her eyes tired and grim, as she leaned over the washbasin on her forearms. Asleep in the Lazy Boy with her hand on Luna, surrounded by villagers, all needing something, were telling the story of Claire’s existence in this place.

Kevin joined the cause and had a folder full of Claire in action. Cutter was recruited to catch Claire with her two favorite men, Joe and Kevin, goofing off and teasing each other.

Joe recognized the signs of a man in love and sent Jamie the photos from Claire’s new laptop while she was working.

Claire pulled her new laptop closer and dialed Jamie. His face looked different, contemplative, and Claire’s heart rate shot up making her feel weak. He���s going to tell me he’s getting married she thought. Her instincts were shouting for her to disconnect. When you don’t want to hear something, don’t listen. She stared at him with wide eyes and he stared back.

“What is it Jamie, you look different.”

“Sassenach, I dinna have words to describe what your pictures showed me.”

“What?”

“Ye are the bravest lass I’ve ever known and the strongest. I had no idea what life was really like there. I am in awe of ye lass.”

“So far, you have not made a lick of sense Jamie. I didn’t send pictures to you. What are you talking about?”

“Well, someone did it for ye. They were in my email yesterday.”

Claire grabbed her phone and checked the sent emails, there were numerous emails to Jamie with picture attachments. Claire opened them and flipped through the pics with mounting concern.

“Jesus Christ, I wasn’t aware these were being taken, or sent. I’m sorry Jamie. My friend Joe had a very bad idea. I was not aware.”

Jamie leaned closer to the camera, “this is the real you as ye go through the day. I have an accurate account of the struggles ye face. Your work in the OR, yer haunted eyes when yer about to collapse and those two guys who hang on each other and make ye laugh. It’s incredible what I’ve learned about ye with these pictures. Yer amazing Sassenach.”

Jamie’s comments broke through her fantasy of killing all who conspired in this clandestine photo shoot. She heard compassion, pride, and love in Jamie’s voice. She looked up at the camera again and suddenly felt overwhelmed with love for the guys and appreciation for Jamie’s reaction.

“Ye dinna ken how special ye are, or how much ye deserve the best life. I…I will be happy to know ye finally get it, Claire. I feel emotionally invested somehow, please agree to be my video friend or pen pal for life. I’ll always wonder if ye don’t.”

Claire was surprised at Jamie’s reaction and she tried to rally her friend-face, control her expressions, and maintain composure in front of the camera. She looked into his eyes and wanted to shout at him that she was more than a friend. Jamie’s words were hitting her like bullets because he was now an observer trying to help her somehow, not harboring his own crush. At that moment she subconsciously jettisoned away from him, to the place she had been since the video calls started. In a box of his acquaintances he would remember from time to time.

Jamie continued to sing her praises and Claire did her best to cover the disappointment and hurt from misunderstanding his interest. She tried to rally but finally begged off with an excuse to feed the baby.

“Until next week Sassenach, take care of yourself.”

Claire slammed the lid on the laptop, “like you’re my psychiatrist or something? No thanks, I’ll be my own support thank you. If this is your entertainment to share with miss perfect, you will have to find something on television from now on. I am out.”

When Jamie saw the blood drain from Claire’s face, he knew she was completely in the dark about the pictures. That made it even more real for him and he silently thanked Joe for letting him into their world. No wonder she couldn’t settle in Edinburgh, it would be like putting a gorgeous butterfly in a jar, to slowly die from the lack of flight. He was deeply troubled that he had touched a dream girl, his dream girl, and the world had no equal.

The door opened and he looked at Geneva, here for a night of cat and mouse, and he was the mouse. He took a deep breath and suddenly wanted to be in a meadow, full of fish, where he could spend time with his memory of Claire and say his truth.

Jamie rose from the couch and kissed Geneva, promising a five-minute shower before they left. But the whole time, he was missing the girl who danced with a fish in his kitchen.

Claire looked at Joe with a laser sight on his fertile brain and fantasies of torture danced in her head. Joe retreated and disappeared before she got to him. She would have followed him, but she was pulled away by an unexpected visit from Luna’s mother.

Claire felt her tears drop onto her shoulders making her scrubs wet. She was always afraid this day would come, her miracle baby leaving with her biological mother. She pulled the baby to her and kissed her cheeks, repeatedly. She assembled multiple bags packed with food, diapers, blankets, and supplements that would sustain her. She would send her away and never know what happened to her and that was breaking her heart. Cutter pushed into the nursery and looked at Claire with compassion.

“Let me take her Claire. Kiss her one more time, then give her to me, he said quietly.”

Luna held Claire’s hair and yanked it trying to get her mother’s attention, the only mother her infant life knew. In her limited world, one face had always been there to give love and smiles and food. Claire broke down and Cutter pulled the sweet baby from her, pulled the bags of supplies onto his shoulder, and then left.

Claire sank into the Lazy Boy arms wrapped around her stomach and cried like she was mortally wounded. She bent over and her tears puddled on the linoleum floor. Her heart was breaking and there was no comfort to be had, just misery, her miracle baby was gone forever.

Claire laid curled up in the Lazy Boy and wondered how much grief one person could take in a day. “UNCLE”, she whispered, “no more for today.” The room grew darker as the sun set, and Claire remained until the door opened and a hand pulled her into the lighted hallway making her squint painfully. The hand pulled her forward and outside where it was easier to open her eyes.

Claire looked at the picnic table with a lantern on it and looked up at Cutter.

“What’s this?”

“A request from Joe, to get you talking and forgiving before you end his life for the pictures.”

He pushed her onto a bench and sat across from her with his hands folded on the table.

“Shall we begin, I rather like Joe, so let’s figure this out together.”

Cutter smiled and waited patiently.

“What? Um, I was mad at him for sending the pictures to Jamie. It was a sweet gesture, but it brought out Jamie’s true feelings for me and I was mad about that. I have the right to punish Joe because he’s my best friend.”

“What true feelings did Jamie reveal?”

“He wants to be pen pals, or video pals, so he will know when I find happiness. He doesn’t want to wonder about me for the rest of his life.”

“Jesus Claire, you had to let go of Luna right after that?”

“She wanted and needed my attention as I got her ready, but I couldn’t stop crying. I miss her so much already and I will never know what happened to her. I can’t take not knowing, Cutter.”

She stopped abruptly and looked up at her friend. The comparison of the two statements sinking into her brain. Her eyes got wide as she compared Jamie’s statement to her own. She loved Luna with her heart and soul, and it broke her heart realizing she will never know how she was. Could Jamie feel the same about her? She stared straight ahead and climbed out of the picnic table. She patted Cutter on the shoulder but missed and patted his face as she left.

“What about Joe? Can he come out of hiding now?”

“Mission accomplished soldier, he’s safe.”

Claire had a strange look on her face, but it wasn’t sorrow that Cutter saw, it was more like she just figured out the double-helix of DNA. Something wondrous.

Claire laid on her bed for the first time in four months and sighed deeply. Whatever Jamie felt for her, was big, that she was certain of. She will keep Skyping on Friday nights and maybe send an email occasionally if there was something exceptional or interesting that happened.

Jamie climbed in a thickly wooded area with a punishing pitch, feeling strong and healthy, as long as he didn’t start thinking. The woods were healing him of the past months of partying, drinking to excess, dealing with Geneva the shape-shifter, and his little Claire showing her heart and comfort to him. Breathing deeply in the crisp mountain air he felt capable of anything. Later in the afternoon, he laid back in the sun to rest. Winter was well on its way and pushing through his comfort limits, so this would be his last trip for a while. He would miss his time out here in nature. He paid dearly for it with Geneva but he didn’t care, it was bringing him back to who he really was.

Claire sat down next to Joe and across from Cutter at dinner. They had been in this medical camp for nine months, she could hardly believe it. The guys were displaying an air of excitement and fist-bumping Joe, well, Kevin was giving cheek kisses and Cutter did the bumping.

“Wow, I’ll bite, what is all the excitement about?”

“Jamie entered one of my pictures of you in a competition, and I won!” Joe was laughing. “Something Apple was doing to promote the camera in the new iPhone. Pretty cool, ha, and I get ten grand for first place!!”

“Jamie did that for you? Interesting. Whatever would make him even think of such a thing?”

Claire stared at Joe, letting him know she would not look away until he explained himself. She was making him antsy and nervous so this would not take long.

Joe sighed and told Claire about the photo lab tech who blew the picture up for Jamie asking all kinds of questions about the camera.

“He called me, told the lab tech it was an iPhone camera, tech said put the picture in the contest, he did, I won, and that’s about it.”

Claire picked up her tray and stood up, “Imagine that.”

The three men gaped at her as she walked away. They didn’t know what to expect from her, but it wasn’t that.

Claire smiled inside wondering how Jamie and Joe became telephone buddies. She was the common denominator and that’s all that mattered to her. She wiped the sweat off her face about to say goodnight to the guys when she thought of some cool relief.

“Cutter, remember that swimming pool I jumped in and you morphed into the incredible hulk?” What was that place?”

“Cutter looked around the room thinking about honesty versus a good night’s sleep for her. “It was my overreacting is all. I thought it was something different.”

“I do believe that is first time you have lied to me Cutter. I’ll ask again, what was that place, and…be honest.”

“It’s a rebel stronghold Claire. The attack on the villagers when you first got here, was perpetrated by that group.”

Claire’s eyes went wide, and her voice panicked, “they’re right here in our backyard? Jesus Christ, it’s no more than a few miles from here! If I had been caught in that pool they would have killed me, wouldn’t they?”

“Drop it pea,” he growled. “That’s enough on the subject.”

Cutter left the table cursing himself for telling her, thankful he left out the torturous death of women prisoners. They would have made it last before she drew her last breath and he would be dead trying to protect her.

Claire stared straight ahead, trying to wrap her head around their proximity to the enemy. She shivered with a full understanding of Cutter’s reaction that day.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered.

Joe had heard things, from the villagers, delivery drivers, and the news when they could get it. He had already put in a request to get them out of there. It was first come first serve and everyone was bugging out of Honduras. He intended to talk to Claire and Kevin tonight about leaving their post before replacements came. It was feeling creepy around here and his instincts were screaming it was time to go.

[ask-garnet-n-ruby]

Sneaking into see Weiss in Schnee manor, Garnet is shocked to find that the feminine Whitley has hidden in Weiss' bed, laughing at his shock. Garnet however, simply decided to show the Schnee his place in the grand scheme of things, starting with worshipping his cock, then conforming his ass to the shape of it.

(Okay, I’ll admit, I had WAY too much fun with this one. This is probably the first prompt I put under a “Read More” due to how long it is. Guess I love ruining little Shitley more than I thought. XD)

Garnet couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he climbed through the window of Weiss’ family manor. He had gotten a text from the Heiress telling him to come over for some late night fun. The action surprised and excited him as he never thought he would have his girlfriend would do something so bold like this. It was actually pretty hot. 

Seeing a figure shuffling under Weiss’ bed, a grin nearly split the crimsonette’s face. Taking off his jacket and sneakers and climbed onto the bed. “Hehe~ I spy with my silver eyes, a cutie who’s hiding from their boyfriend under the covers.” 

Hearing a snicker made Garnet laugh a bit himself. “I see someone’s being a little extra playful tonight. Isn’t that right W-WHAT THE-?!”

As Garnet pulled the covers off, hiding underneath the covers was NOT his cute petite girlfriend. But in actuality…

“Whitley?!” He exclaimed in shock. Only to met with mocking laughter from one smug-looking Schnee. 

“That’s right.” Said the Schnee family’s youngest child. “I CAN’T believe you actually fell for this trick.”

“Wait trick?” He muttered before his eyes widened. “Wait, YOU were the one who sent me that text message then?!” 

“You seemed shocked, what? Upset that you that my stupid older sister wasn’t the one you were hoping for underneath these sheets?” He let out a haughty scoff. “Please, like a filthy commoner such as yourself would ever be allowed inside the Schnee Mansion.” 

A vein slowly started forming on Garnet’s forehead the more he heard Whitley speak to him. Many forms of emotions rushing through him at the moment, rage and embarrassment being the two primary ones. But before he could say or do anything, he noticed something; Whitley’s current state of dress. 

Surprisingly, the boy in question was practically naked. Save for a pair of black thong panties, silk black gloves and stocking. Along with a pair of blue earrings that he’d seen Weiss on occasions. Another thing of note was the fact that of Whitley also having a feminine build to him. Complete with wide hips and a nice ass, much to his surprise. Looking at him now, Garnet could only guess the boy dressed up this way to further toy and humiliate him. 

He perked up at the sound of a camera shuttered and saw Whitley taking a pic of him, before speaking up. “There! Now I have proof of breaking and entering. If you don’t want this spread on the internet, scram! Unless you want the guards to throw you out.” 

Garnet growled under his breath… before a grin formed. “No…” He said in a deathly calm voice. “I have a better idea.” 

“Huh?” Whitley raised a brow in confusion, which soon quickly morphed into a look of horror as Garnet unzipped his pants and fished out his hard erection. Shocking the young man with his overwhelming length and girth. That had to have been an easy foot long in terms of size. Maybe more. 

“W-Wh-What in the Gods’ name do you think you’re doing?!” He stuttered, moving away until his back was pressed against the headboard of Wiess’ bed. 

“What I came here for.” Garnet grinned evilly, grabbing Whitley roughly by arm. Yanking him forward. “After all, you went out of your wait to do all of this for me. How can I not have my fun with you? You even dolled yourself up for me?” 

“L-Let go of me!” He thrashed against the stronger boy’s grip. His eyed glued to the throbbing shaft, anxious as his heart started racing from fear. “You keep that filthy thing away from me!” 

“Filthy? But you have the same thing as me.” Garnet laughed as he glanced down at Whitley’s package. “Even if it is… pathetic.” 

The male Schnee didn’t even regard the insult as his desperation grew more and more as he was pulled closer. “Y-You can’t do this! I’M A BOY!” 

“You’re not a boy,” Garnet grabbed Whitley boy his short hair. “You’re a bitch, and it’s high time someone put you in your place.”

Forcing him down between his legs, Garnet forced Whitley to open his mouth, allowing him to shove all 14 inches of his thick fat cock down Whitley’s tight mouth. Pushing past the boy’s gag reflexes as if they weren’t even there. A hiss of pleasure leaving Garnet upon violating Whitley’s mouth. It was certainly different from Weiss’, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. The same, however, couldn’t be said for Whitley; as the boy was shivering in disgust. The taste of this commoner’s… THING in his mouth made him want to vomit. On top of this smell surrounding this member. It was so revolting, that it made his head spin. 

He muffled around the cock as Garnet started moving, thrusting his hips nice and slowly at first. But quickly picking up speed, drilling his cock as deep as his cock would good. Keeping a nice firm hold on Whitley’s head, forcing the boy to bob his help up and down in sync with his movements. Tears started forming in the corners of his eyes as he glared up at his rapist. Garnet noticed the look on his face and laughed. 

“You know, that look brings back memories. That’s the same look Weiss made when she first blew me.” Garnet laughed, pumping his faster. “Let’s see if I can’t fix that attitude by the end of it.” 

Baby blue eyes shrank as Whitley’s unwilling blowjob turned into a violent deep throat session. The boy letting out a muffled scream as he hit Garnet’s legs in an act of desperation trying to get him to stop. His throat was beginning to hurt while his lungs burned for oxygen. His tears running down his red cheeks, as he felt it twitching inside of his mouth. Hearing a loud grunt, Whitley froze when something shot into his mouth. It was hot, it was slimy, and it tasted horrible; his first instinct was to pull his head away. But Garnet’s firm grip on him kept the cross-dressed boy in place. Making him look up fearfully. 

“Well, wait are you waiting for? Swallow it.” Whitley’s eyes nearly popped out of his skulls at that. Making Garnet laugh. “Either swallow it or choke, that’s your two options.” 

Realizing his situation, Whitley gave Garnet the most venomous glare he could muster. He would make him pay, he promised him that; steeling himself, he started to gulp down the cum that was in his mouth. Shuddering as he did so, he did everything to ignore the taste coating his mouth as he drank his sister’s boyfriend’s foul seed. How fitting that Weiss would enjoy swallowing something like this. Eventually, this torture came to an end as Garnet sighed and pulled his dick out of his mouth. Allowing Whitley gasp for air as he coughed. 

“Heh, I gotta admit, it was weird having a guy blow me. But in the end, it felt amazing.” Garnet said, earning another glare from the boi in question. “Well, let’s get on to the main course.” 

Whitley was shocked seeing that the commoner’s member hadn’t gone down at all. “W-Wait, you aren’t finished?!” He stuttered with a hoarse voice. 

“Of course not, it takes a lot more than a simple blowjob to leave me satisfied.” He laughed, spreading Whitley’s legs and lined himself up. Causing Whitley to panic at what would happen next. 

“W-Wait! H-Hold on! I-I’m sorry okay?! I-I’ll delete the picture, I won’t bother you again. I’ll do anything!” He pleaded desperately, feeling the tip started to stab his tight little star, he started shaking. “Stop! I-I’ll scream if you don’t!” 

“Oh believe me,” Garnet smirked. “You’ll be screaming alright.” 

“Please, I’m sure we can talk about this-AAAAAAUUUGGHHH!!!”

A scream tore through Whitley’s sore throat as Garnet drilled into his tight ass. Robbing the boy of his anal virginity; his back arched, drool streaming down his chin as his eyes started rolling into his skull from the intense pain of having his ass violated. Garnet groaned loudly, adjusting to the tightness of Whitley’s ass. The last time he felt this way was when he took Weiss’ anal virginity for the first time. Funny how lightning strikes twice. 

“Damn, you’re extremely tight,” He panted, but still maintained a grin. “But that just means I’m going to enjoy this.” 

He started thrusting, his hands firmly on the boy’s thighs as he rutted him into Weiss’ bed. The mattress creaking loudly from how aggressive Garnet was fucking the boy, who was letting out a series of screams and cries of agony and unwanted pleasure. A hot blush forming on his face from the non-consensual coitus; while his mind was cracking from the shocks and stimulation coursing through his head. But something surprising Garnet as he pounded the youngest Schnee. He noticed the boy’s cock poke out from the panties and become rock hard. No doubt caused by his cock grinding up against his prostate. On top of that, his nipples grew hard as well; despite the crimsonette not doing anything. This time Garnet had a mocking grin on his face. 

“Oh, do my eyes deceive me, are you actually getting turned on from this?” He sneered, laughing at the 4-inch throbbing cock starting to leak out pre. “This is amazing, Weiss always told me you were a little bitch. But I didn’t think she had meant that literally!” 

Whitley couldn’t respond, he couldn’t even speak; too busy focusing his rapidly depleting energy on not having his mind break to this man’s dick. But that was a task, easier said than done. The more Garnet’s cock drilled into the boy’s depths, the more he could feel it reshape and turn his ass into a gaping mess. He could swear it felt like his guts were being pushed and rearranged thanks to this monstrous thing. 

But what truly terrified him, was the fact that a part of him... was actually starting to like this. 

The pain started to die down, slowly being replaced with pleasure. Causing him to let out a moan in the process, while his cock twitched painfully for release. He gasped in horror from what he just did, whereas Garnet smirked. “And there it is... the sound I’ve been waiting for. I knew you’d end up enjoying it.” 

“E-Enjoy what?! I-I’m not enjoying th-this stupid cock!” He denied vehemently. Only to yelp when Garnet yanked on his hair roughly and forced him on his hands and knees. 

“Let’s fix that then shall we?” He said picking up where he left off in fucking the mouthy brat. Whitley’s cock bouncing back and forth, his pre drooling onto the sheets. The new change in position allowed Garnet’s hips to clap loudly against Whitley’s plump cheeks. But also let his dick strike his prostate much more easily now. Bringing Whitley closer and closer to the climax he was desperately trying to fight off. 

‘Fuck, it’s too much, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t-’ One more direct stab did it for the effeminate male. “HRK! NGH-GAAAAAAHHHH!!!” 

Tears poured down Whitley’s face as he cummed his brains out. Toes curling, hands gripping the sheets tightly. The young Schnee boi could only drool unceremoniously he shot his seed all over his older sister’s bed. His mind utterly fried from the orgasm that he was currently riding out. His asshole clenching tightly around Garnet’s cock, making the boy himself groan and buck his hips out of instinct. 

“Fuck!” He cried out, his cock blasting a hot sticky load into Whitley’s bitch hole as well. Having a tight squeeze hold on the boi’s love handle while he let out his discharge. Remaining still for a few long moments until he was finally done. Catching his breath, he straightened himself upright. 

“Whoa, you actually made me cum harder than your sister ever could. Heh, props to you.” He said, only to blink when he didn’t hear a response or even a peep from the boy. “Hm? Whitley?” 

He looked down and saw the male Schnee was completely limp. His eyes blank and distant as his body twitched occasionally. Softly breathing the boy had cum so hard, he had blacked out from the pleasure. This made Garnet chuckle from the sight. 

“Guess you couldn’t handle it.” He muttered amused, before tapping his chin. Getting an idea in his mind.

“I suppose I can have a little more fun with you.” The Team Leader muttered as he started repositioning the unconscious boy once again. 

-MUCH Later-

Weiss folded her arms, a deep frown on her face as she trudged back to her room. “Ugh, seriously, where is my Scroll? I looked everywhere for the damn thing!” She sighed as she placed a hand on the door, and opened it.

“I swear if I had left this thing in my room. I’m gonna- WHAT THE HELL?!” 

Weiss gasped as she looked at the sight before her. There, on her bed, laid her little brother Whitley. Sprawled out on his back, covered head to toe in cum; his stomach slightly boated as a stream of cum oozed out of the boy’s gaping asshole. His baby blue eyes faded and rolled into his skull. And let’s not forget the state of dress the boi was passed out in, what with that thong and those silk black gloves. Weiss walked up slowly, in completely shocked as to what happened with her brother.

“W-What- Who did...” It was then she noticed two things lying next to her. A note and... her Scroll! Picking up the note, she read it and was surprised to see who it was from. 

‘Hey Weiss, Garnet here, sorry you had to walk in and see this. But I got tricked by your brother into sneaking into your home thanks to him. And had to teach him a lesson. Not sure how long he’ll be out of it though. But I’m positive he won’t act up with us anymore.’

P.S.- Check your scroll, I’m sure you’ll love the picture I took with it.

Weiss blinked a couple more times, rereading the letter a few more times. Garnet had been here earlier, and he fucked her brother into a comatose state? Picking up the scroll, she opened up her photo’s album and had a few shots of her brother Whitley being fucked and looking like a whore on her boyfriend’s dick. A few captions going with it:

‘Bitch Boi’

‘Schnee Slut’

‘Cocky little shit loves it in the ass.’ 

Seeing the last pic, Weiss’ astonishment soon morphed into a deep grin as she looked at her still out of it brother. 

“I better make sure to thank Garnet, the next time I see him.” She giggled cutely to quietly, tapping the device against her chin. “He just gave me some high-quality blackmail material.” 

[vrenaewrites]

HUSH HUSH by Becca Fitzpatrick thoughts: Ch 12 - end

Full video here.

CHAPTER 12

Nora’s mom is on her way home

Nora goes to visit V

“I love drugs” LMAO

She goes into a diatribe about her doctor only eating easter candy i’m crying

It was a guy!!! He had dark eyes and he was wearing a ski mask!!!!!

After thought: was jules just manipping them SO HARD they couldn’t keep a grip on what the ski masked person looked like? If so...why keep wearing a ski mask as your calling card??

V had told elliott they were going shopping

Nora tells V about hitting the guy in the ski mask

Ooh nora told patch about shopping too!!!!

Too short and too skinny to be elliott though

V is like “the more i think about it, i really think it was patch”

Nora doesn’t get a chance to tell V about elliott before the drugs kick in hard

“I brought your homework, where do you want it?” she pointed to the trash can LMAO V IS THE BEST

She goes home and hugs her mom

CHAPTER 13

She and V go to borderline where patch works to get info from his coworkers

Nora is sweaty lmao

Nora literally wrote interrogations on one side of a piece of paper and flirting prompts on the other side this girl is ridiculous

V brought slutty heels to make Nora more seductive I’m dead

V invited Jules and Elliott...she’s been seeing Jules

Nora goes to tell V about Elliott but he shows up before she can

Jules doesn’t show up

Nora is like so Elliot if the prep school is so great why did you transfer basically challenging this potential murderer

Elliott is like “heard the girls were hotter at your school”

I am beyond confused as to why V invited these guys who know who Nora is, but also expects Nora to put on a whole ass disguise in the bathroom and go talk to the bartender… Why would you invite these guys along? This just makes it way more difficult…

Nora goes to the bartender and tries to make conversation; is terrible at it, basically asks him is it possible to get hired here with a felony, can I see patch’s job application, does patch have a girlfriend?

Patch is covering a shift so he is NOT off as originally expected

Patch confronts her in the girl’s bathroom and he’s like “are you following me?” POT KETTLE BITCH

She goes to take the high heels off and drops the list of interrogation questions and patch picks it up and I am nervous

Patch had a girlfriend but she’s dead

Gonna call it: she’s the girl who was hanged at kinghorn that Elliott was questioned about

Chapter 14

Her mom “Blinked owlishly” excuse me??

Nora’s mom wants to sell their house because it’s too much $

So Nora decides not to tell mom about the ski mask guy

She asks her mom about knowing if she loved dad and if she was ever afraid of dad

When the pats lost her dad would chop down trees with a chainsaw lmaoooooo what

Nora‘s mom says “ooh a boy is he on chess team? Student council? Tennis team?”

And Nora says… He likes pool… and her mom says “ooh a swimmer” LMAO

Someone ripped her room APART

It’s the ski mask guy!!!!! He jumped out the window

One of the cops looks like patch…

Nothing is messed up when the cops look at the room…

Is Nora going insane or is it angel shit

Unfortunately I think this book would be so much more interesting if I didn’t already know that patch was a fallen angel and I don’t know if that’s my bad for trying to fine just like a quick summary of what the book was about on the Internet, or if like the back of the book let you know that this is about an angel… I mean the cover let you know it’s about an angel but I would’ve thought these dudes are like…serial killers or something and that Nora had some kind of mental issue or they had messed with her iron supplements to make her go nuts…Which might’ve been more interesting than whatever is going on here

Chapter 15

Nora finally tells V about the article and v doesn’t believe her

Nora thinks that she has a great point because Elliot transferred schools after he was questioned… I’m sure it was really hard to keep going to school with people who knew you were a murder suspect...so…

Nora wants to go to kinghorn and question the students about elliott

The fact that this all somehow ties back to fallen angels is really pissing me off because we are halfway through it, and we have not even really from Nora’s point of you introduced the idea of Angels

Nora is suddenly like why the fuck is Jules always sick

Also how is he always around if kinghorn is such a difficult school

Nora realizes the article that she printed about Elliot was missing from her room after the ski mask guy broke in so now she is convinced Skimask guy is Elliot

I will say that I have absolutely no idea where this is going so it is keeping my attention because again I don’t understand how this is going to tie back to angels and why the girl died and etc.

Coach makes V and Patch switch places

“I didn’t do homework” “who did you do?” Bro come on

“The subjects pulse increased on contact”

She goes to her appointment with Miss Green and somehow Miss Green knows that patch took her home from the pier and that patch went into her house what the fuck is going on

I really really really hope that all of this weird shit comes together in the last like five chapters and I end up like screaming OH DUH putting all this together… But because this was recommended as part of my cringe series, I have a very strong feeling that is not going to happen and all of this means nothing

“something about Miss Green bothered me, it was almost like she had an agenda“ yeah bitch she knew a guy took you to your house and came inside, she is stalking you

Chapter 16

Nora runs into Marcy at the library and basically Marcy says V got attacked because someone mistake her for a bear or a moose because she’s fat, and then they have a name calling back-and-forth of skank, slut, anorexic pig like real vile shit

Nora goes to the underground tunnel to get to the parking lot even though...she didn’t drive…

Patch is in the tunnel

“His smile looked like he didn’t play by the rules”

She immediately is like “if he’s gonna rape me he cornered me in the perfect place” JESUS

I mean all women think like that in a dark space but she likes this guy and they go to school together and...damn that was a jump!

Nora gets a car between them and they have like a run around while she’s asking him questions

“Was it a coincidence that the last normal day in my life had been right before that fateful day?” Editor fight me

She lets him take her home again

I am starting to feel like we are back to after, where the same things keep happening over and over for no reason… She was so determined to get answers and then she let it go because he turned the conversation on her...she should’ve just held her ground and then like I am not leaving until you tell me what the fuck is going on, but she didn’t, so does she care or not

He asks her out…

Chapter 17

She is so infuriating, she’s getting ready for this date but thinking about kissing him rather than thinking about getting answers on if this dude is stalking her / reading her mind...it’s so frustrating

The detectives show up

Asking about Marcy…?

Marcy got beat up!!!! By patch??

She lies that patch isn’t on his way

They go to the arcade

He’s behind her showing her how to play pool fuck yeah

He’s like “if I hit this, take off your jacket”

A guy named Rickson shows up, him and patch start roughhousing and we see patch’s giant back scars

They call him patch because he used to get his ass beat in bar fights and had to get patched up a lot lmao

Chapter 18

He leaves her in the Jeep while he gets dinner and she goes sleuthing

So in chapter 18 she is saying she would settle for finding his cell phone number but...she called him at Boze arcade in like the third chapter so what number was that, did you not write it down once you washed it off your hand, or was that the arcades phone... why do you not have his phone number anymore

He has a metal flashlight with blood on it in his glove compartment, making Nora think he had beat up Marcy after all

I swear to God, if he gets back in the car and she starts getting horny for him after finding this flashlight I am not gonna finish this book I am going to quit

He pulled out a gun?!?!?!?!!?!?!???!?!?

Paintball gun. He says it’s paint on the flashlight?? Sure Jan

He gives her a snow globe of the pier, cute!

Mom catches them lmaooo

Chapter 19

So Nora is on the phone with V and she’s like how did the date go with patch and Nora said something about him giving her pool pointers and he says I bet he could give you pointers in other areas… And then the next sentence is V trying to convince Nora once again that patch is the one who broke her arm… So… Why the fuck do you want your best friend to fuck the guy who broke your arm????????

Nora realizes that the angels that were painted on the roller coaster have the same scar that patch has

“My voice was strewn with cobwebs” huh?????

She goes on their home computer to google “angel wings scars” LMAO why did every girl in a YA novel in the early 2000s google what their monster boyfriend was

Info dump re angels: they talk to humans in their minds, can possess them during the unholy Hebrew month

“I filed everything away that I had just read in my mind, and stamped ‘scary’ on the outside“ lmao

“V, do you believe in superheroes? Do you think the Bible is real?”

Chapter 20

Elliott is at her house...drunk

He punches the side of her house

He invites her to go camping with him Jules and V...after he acknowledges she doesn’t like him

He rips her out of the house and throws her against it when she says she doesn’t wanna go

Thank god her mom wakes up

V tries to talk Nora into going, and Nora tells her what happened at the house, and V is like “well he was drunk”

Insert pic of unamused Kristen Stewart face

PLEASE tell me she’s being controlled by the angel powers because wtf

“Maybe you’re trying so hard to pin the ski mask on Elliott because you know it’s patch deep down” she’s not wrong tho patch is also a terrible dude who is stalking(?) her

Nora goes to Portland to investigate Elliott, and kierstens death

She throws away her questions this time, smart

She interrogates the waitress at kierstens old job, who is NOT amused but agrees to tell her some tea if she gets food and tips her big

Kiersten and Elliott were hooking up

Elliott bought kierstens apartment so he def coulda planted the note

Elliott and Jules were in the restaurant talking about a test that Jules has failed...I get the feeling it wasn’t academic

Chapter 21

Someone’s watching herrrr

V is in Portland with Elliott…? But she’s alone...she wants Nora to come get her

Red flag

She gets hustled by a homeless woman for her coat

She left her phone in the coat

She witnesses a shooting...of the bag lady...who was wearing her coat and hat!!!!!!!!!!

She calls patch and he comes to get her

V went home with the boys

“The water was smooth black poison” wut

The Jeep dies on the highway and a storm rolls in

Chapter 22

They get a room to wait out the storm because the lights and phones are down

She still is like wary of him but she doesn’t really have a choice at this point, fair.

Also, favorite trope: there’s only one bed

Her clothes are wet so she makes him blow out the candles so he can’t see her in her underwear….

She touches his scar and gets sucked into blackness?!?!

Chapter 23

There are 8 chapters left and I have a BAD feeling that we’re in sequel bait territory

She’s in like a flashback from 8 months ago

Miss green meets patch at bo’s, he calls her Daubria

“Your kind and my kind don’t mix” she’s an angel and he’s a fallen one, I just know it “it’s not easy getting down here”

“If you save a human life, you can get your wings back”

“Now tell me why you’re really here”

Something about the book of Enoch and him wanting to recreate it

He wants a name from her list since she’s a death angel

Daubria says Nora’s name and patch asks who wants to kill her and Daubria says, “you”

So…..if he stops himself….he can get his wings?

She comes back and patch pins her to the bed, pissed

So she has just found out that he wants to kill her, he has her pinned to the bed, and she asks “is Daubria your girlfriend???” Why do you literally care and why do you not have any self-preservation skills

He kisses her?!?!

She bites the shit out of his lip

He did try to kill her on the archangel but couldn’t do it, he was gonna stab her in her house, couldn’t do it

She’s passing out because she needs her iron pills

He calms her down

He lets her touch his scars again so she’ll trust him

Chapter 24

She wakes up next to a skeleton in a graveyard

The Irish guy is talking to patch there

Patch wants to become human, as he heard in the book of Enoch

She comes back

Patch feels through a “sheet of glass” unless he possess a body

Patch is the angel from the prologue I think

“If you can’t feel, why did you kiss me?” “Because I can feel it in my heart”

He fell because he lusted after a human girl

He didn’t know Daubria was still on earth…

She now thinks Daubria is the ski mask person

Chapter 25

Patch goes to get the car and leaves Nora there

They get her home and patch checks the house for her

V doesn’t answer her phone

Daubria is there!!

She says she isn’t the one who has been spying

She planted the idea in V’s mind that patch attacked her

Her birthmark means she’s Chauncey’s descendant, and the book says if patch killed his vassal’s descendant he can be human (according to Daubria)

She goes to kill Nora so she’ll be out of the way

Daubria is v hurt by him falling and “falling” for the human girl

Daubria goes full angel, using tk, glowing, trying to stop Nora

Daubria sets the house on fire

Patch comes back and tells her to drive his Jeep to Delphic

She starts to search for V in the meantime

Chapter 26

She goes to the movies and gets a ticket for the sacrifice, remarking on the irony of the title

V isn’t at the movies

But patch is?!?!

“Shut up or I’ll get security” “yeah, get security, this guy wants to kill me” “I want to kill you”

“I’ll tell you what I’ve done: I’m not good, but I was worse”

He’s now saying she’s worth falling for basically

“I don’t kill people who are important to me, and you top the list”

Patch ripped daubria’s wings off

“Let’s be honest, you got it bad for me, and I’ve got it bad for you.”

“You don’t need me to help you fight her.” “What do I need you for?” “We have unfinished business”

They making OUT in this theater bathroom

Her phone rings, V and the guys broke into school, and Elliott says “Nora come play or there’s a tree in the courtyard with V’s name on it”

Listen. To. Me. If these two plots have nothing to do with each other, I am going to rip my hair out. These could have been 2 different books.

Chapter 27

She tells patch about the article

Patch says he doesn’t remember Jules being at the arcade…

Jules is an angel I bet

The jeeps tires are slashed so they pay an employee to take his car

He tells Nora to stay in the car

Chapter 28

Elliott calls Nora and says he’s watching her

Nora GETS OUT OF THE CAAAAAAR

AND GOES INTO THE SCHOOL NORA HE TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCKING GET OUT

Nora tripped over Jules’ dead body…

Elliott is in the library, basically dead…

The lights keep going on and off…

The ski mask person is here!!!!!!!

IT IS JULES?!?!

He’s an angel!!!! Called it, He’s been fucking with her mind

He throws her in the bio room, and she sees a scalpel on the ground and grabs it

Jules was Elliott’s benefactor and made him choose between love and money…

Jules really wanted patch, but patch can’t be hurt...so he’s using Nora to get to him

Jules is patch’s vassal!!!!! So he’s fucking PISSED

HE IS CHAUNCEY!!!!!!

The guardian presence she felt wasn’t her dad, it was Jules

She stabs him, but bumps a table as she tries to escape…

He passes out

Chapter 29

She finds V in the e-zine lab

All the doors are chained…

She ends up trapped in the gym

Jules has a gun!!!!

He beat up Marcy because he didn’t want anyone messing with “his girl”

Patch finds them, Jules holds her at gun point, patch possesses Nora to beat the SHIT out of Jules

He couldn’t stay long enough to kill Jules, and the effort made him pass out

She climbs up the air shaft despite being afraid of heights and Jules is fucking with her, making her think she’s falling

Patch helps her anchor to reality

They’re both on the rafters

She realizes if she sacrifices herself, patch can be human

She throws herself off the rafter

Chapter 30

She hears a clock and wings, but then she slides backwards instead

She wakes up in her bedroom, with patch

Patch turned down her sacrifice so she could live

“What good is a body if I can’t have you?”

He’s a guardian angel because he saved her

V and Elliott are fine

The police think Jules killed himself

V says “shoe-shopping therapy” instead of retail therapy why

The book ends with patch coming back to give her a kiss...boring

There’s an exchange that’s the last sentence of the book where he pulls away and she’s like “more” “more?” “more”

[drarryruinedme7]

Don't air your dirty laundry in public

This is completely wild @rockmarina 😂I wrote it for you, inspired by real-life event (?? ahahah I hope you’ll like it! ❤️

Betad by amazing @keyflight790 !!! ❤️

Rating: Explicit | Word count: 1.8K | Tags: Domestic Drarry, Draco Malfoy is Clueless about Muggle Things, a lil bit of angsty feelings flavoured with smut and fluffiness | READ IT ON AO3.

Harry went back home to a unique sight.

Draco Malfoy was crouched in front of a… was that a washing machine?

Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, sliding his glasses up his head, in the mess of his hair. He exhaled slowly. “Dray, love, what exactly are you doing?”

Draco replied without moving his eyes from the porthole of the washing machine. “I…don’t know. This seems evil to me.”

Harry drew in a breath and closed his eyes. Not again.

“Draco, we’ve discussed this. Muggle things are not evil, they work through electricity and–”

“I know! I know! You’ve told me many times and I’ve bought possibly every single electronic Muggle device by now. Enough to know how they work. It’s just…” Draco pushed the ON button and the washing machine started vibrating, the basket rotating.

He resumed. “I’ve lost the last two hours trying to understand how this works. It seems harder than other devices.” He clutched the information leaflet in his hands, knuckles turning white.

Harry reached him and crouched down. Draco still didn’t move his eyes from the porthole. Harry raised a hand and slowly tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear. He lingered a moment on his earlobe, stroking it lightly.

“Dray, I’m proud of you. It’s not easy to understand how these things work if you never grew up with them.”

Two tears broke free from Draco’s lashes to fall down his cheeks. His voice came out broken. “You shouldn’t be p-proud of me. I’m – I’m only doing this to ease my feeling of guilt. I c-can’t understand, Harry.” He angrily wiped the tears with the back of his hand.

Harry placed a kiss on his temple. “What can’t you understand, love?”

“Why! Why my parents hated M-Muggles so much! I – I was an idiot! And believed everything they told me. I was convinced, Harry, I was so convinced Muggles deserved to be hated! Because I couldn’t understand a fucking thing about their world.” Draco’s eyes snapped now towards Harry’s, bloodshot and shiny.

Harry smiled. “Is this why our house is packed with Muggle devices lately? Do you want to understand them?”

Draco blushed a delicate rose and bit his bottom lip. “Y-yes? Am I crazy, Harry?”

Harry snorted and pulled Draco close, claiming his lips in a sweet kiss. “Merlin, you’re the craziest, Dray. But still, I love you and I think it’s cute you want to understand them. Don’t be harsh with yourself, you’ve made some mistakes, but you’ve changed now.”

Draco looked crossed at Harry and pouted. “Hey, you’re supposed to say things like, No honey you’re not crazy.”

Harry brought the back of his right hand in front of Draco’s face. “But I can’t lie, honey. You see, it’s written right here.”

Draco batted off Harry’s hand, rolling his eyes. “Always a show-off. How can you love me, Harry?”

Harry stood up, bringing Draco with him. He didn’t know how to answer to that, so he silently brought him in their bedroom, positioned him on their bed and started wandering through their stuff.

He took out a photo album, a shirt, two identical jumpers, one with a D, the other with an H, a snitch. He placed them on the bed, next to Draco and started talking. “Dray, I love you because you always care for me, you are affectionate and sweet, you remember every anniversary, every birthday, everything I say. The day after I told you I liked this shirt, you bought it for me. It wasn’t even a special occasion. You just did it and you do it all the time.”

Harry sat next to Draco and took the photo album. He opened it, searching for… “Ah! Here! It was Teddy’s birthday and he was so upset because he had a fight with his best friend and didn’t want to celebrate anymore. You just went to pick his friend up at his house and took the two of them to a day trip in the woods. You built a wooden playhouse that day and Teddy was so happy, he kept saying he was the luckiest kid in the world, having an uncle like you. And you know what I thought? That the truly lucky one was me, having you as a husband. You look stunning in this pic with them, the sun makes your hair shine.”

Draco smiled fondly at the memory, brushing his fingers on the pic. “I do look stunning.”

Harry winked and then pointed to the jumpers. Draco giggled and closed his eyes, whispering, “Oh no, please.”

Harry laughed and with a jump, he reached for Draco and put the jumper on top of his head. “Oh yes, please! You hate this jumper, but still, every Christmas you wear it to make Molly happy and I know you do it for me too. You are the cutest with it.”

Draco came out of the head hole with his hair tousled and a frown on his face. “I’m not cute!”

Harry raised an eyebrow and grabbed the snitch. He threw it at Draco, who caught it easily. He was a Seeker, after all. “Objection, Your Honor! The snitch is our last smoking gun!”

Draco rolled his eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “You’re an idiot, Potter.”

Harry’s cheeks burnt and he felt his blood rushing instantly to his cock. His throat was suddenly dry. “D-Draco – c’mon, you know that – don’t call me that! It’s not the right moment.” He scooped a hand in his pants and readjusted his stiffening cock. After all these years, Draco’s tone when he said “Potter” could still drive him totally crazy.

Draco smirked and he brushed his lips over Harry’s neck. He purred, “It’s always the right moment, Potter.”

Harry closed his eyes and his hands flew to Draco’s head, clutching his hair. Draco pushed him down into the mattress and Harry opened his legs, to make room for him between them. He rocked his hips and hissed at the sensation: Draco was already hard as much as himself. He trailed his fingers through Draco’s hair, kissing his chin.

“At least, make me finish.” His voice was low and husky.

Grinding against Harry, Draco replied, “I’ll give you five minutes.” He licked Harry’s ear and then trailed down, nudging the soft spot under his earlobe, kissing Harry’s collarbone, grazing his fingers on Harry’s sides.

Harry’s breath hitched and he slipped his hands under Draco’s jumper, stroking his back. “This is unfair. I’ll never be able to concentrate like this.”

Draco lifted Harry’s jersey and placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss on his left hip-bone. He breathed, “Three minutes.”

That sent shivers running through Harry’s body, but he managed to swallow around the lump in his throat to answer, “Okay, okay, so. That day, four years ago. That day we played one of our Seeker-to-Seeker games and you won. All three sets. And I was so upset because I’m not used to losing three times in a row. You see, I’m silly too. And, aaah, fuck, damn Draco, aaah, let me finish.”

Draco had unbuttoned his trousers and was leaving hot kisses all along Harry’s shaft through the fabric of his pants. It was arousing. It was distracting.

Draco flicked his eyes up. “One minute, Potter.” He grasped Harry’s waistband and freed his cock that popped out, red and leaking. Draco licked his lips and brushed them on the tip of Harry’s cock, moaning and kissing off the wetness gathered there.

Harry gasped and searched for his last strand of self-control. “Damn, Malfoy. That d-day, when we went back home, you gave me the snitch you f-fucking won, telling me you didn’t need it because…because…”

Draco was now sucking gently Harry’s balls. He gave one last lick. Looked up. “Because I already won the most important thing in my life. Your love. And then I asked you to marry me.” He smiled, that warm smile that made dimples appear in his cheeks and his eyes crinkle with joy.

Harry smiled back. “Told you, you’re the cutest shit. Now, care to take my cock in your mouth?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, but grinned. “If you ask like that…”

He finally slid the tip of Harry’s cock inside his mouth and Harry groaned, a low guttural sound coming straight from his groin. Draco’s teasing always made him achingly hard and he already felt close.

Draco started bobbing his head up and down on his shaft; two strokes and he angled himself to swallow the entire length until the tip of Harry’s cock hit his throat, and his nose nudged Harry’s groin hairs, gagging a little. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked, coming back up.

Harry’s hand grasped Draco’s hair and pushed his head down again. With a violent shudder, Harry jerked his hips off the mattress, and he coated Draco’s tongue with his hot semen, crying, “Fuck, yes, Dray, yes.”

Draco swallowed around his cock and swirled his tongue around its sensitive head, making Harry’s toes curl and his stomach clench.

“Aah-ah, Dray, umh, stop please.” Harry was half laughing, the tranquillity of the after orgasm sweeping through him.

Draco sighed and sat back on his heels, pouting. “Mmh, but I want more. I could blow you for eternity, you know. You taste so sweet.”

Harry propped up on his elbows, a cheeky smile on his lips, eyelids half-closed. He was about to reply when they heard a loud bang coming from the bathroom.

Alarmed, they ran to it, to find a disaster. The porthole of the washing machine was wide open, water mixed with detergent spilled everywhere, an indefinite mass falling down from it, soaking in the mess on the floor.

Harry quickly tucked his cock in his trousers and looked sideways at Draco. “If you ruined one of my jumpers, I swear – ”

“Ah, is this for clothes?” Draco was scratching the back of his neck. “I thought… it is a washing machine and I washed… I thought it could wash everything, you know.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. “What did you put in it, Draco?”

He reached the bathroom and crouched to see scattered wooden pieces all over, sponges half destroyed, something that were probably leather gloves completely ruined. Cold sweats formed on Harry’s forehead. “Draco, did you put our broomsticks and our polishing kits in the washing machine?” He turned, glaring at him.

Draco stuttered. “I – um, I could have shrunk our broomsticks and put them to wash with our polishing kits. I m-mean, erm, the kit is for cleaning but, but then, who clean the polishing kit? So, I…”

Harry had thought he would be angry by now, but he could only laugh, tears at his eyes. “You’re amazingly idiot, Dray. How could you think detergent would be good with leather gloves or wood, I don’t know. You’re a special kind.”

Draco blushed deeply, muttering, “You’re not angry with me?”

Harry got up and hugged him tight, soothing him. “I would never. You’re trying, that’s what matters. I love you, Draco.”

Draco looked into his eyes and kissed Harry. “I love you too, Harry.”

[verratensduo]

25 days of Christmas drabbles challenge/day one/picking the Christmas tree

Yes I am aware I am starting three days late, but it’s better late than never! If you want to try, you can find it here, participate as much as you like, and hey tag me in it, I’d love to see your writing.

Drabble challenge: 25 days of Christmas Day: 1 Prompt: Picking a Christmas tree ship; Jeanspringles

~~~~~

Eren laughed and rolled away from Jean as he tried to get Eren into his warm winter suite. It had been the same thing the past three years running, Eren thought this was a game and loads of fun. It’s what made him so hard to get changed for going to get a Christmas tree. He was too speedy for his own good sometimes.

“Eren you little twerp get back here!” Jean hissed while Connie was laughing in the background. Of course Connie was getting payback for last year when he had been the one to be chasing little Eren around to try and get him changed.

“See? He is incredibly fast and thinks it is a game.” Connie snickered, it amused him to see his son stop and look at Jean with those mischievous eyes.

“Meep meep!” Eren called out and darted off again, he had truly fallen in love with the Looney Toons, especially the Road Runner.

“Arggg!” Frustration seemed to be the flavor of tonight for Jean.

“Here, let me try something.” Connie walked over by Eren’s winter pic and showed a picture of Sasha. “Eren, can you put your winter clothes on for mommy?” He tries to encourage the boy. This would hopefully work to get him to change.

“Mommy! Yes!” Eren ran over, and begrudgingly got into his winter clothes. The boy whined the entire time. The pants, the jacket, the hat, the boots, the gloves. He was too hot.

“Hooooot.”

Connie bent down lifting the child up. “I know baby I know. I have to keep you warm for when Mommy gets home.”

Jean felt a vibration on his butt and smiled. “I’d say she is home. Let’s get out there.”

With that, Jean calmed their dog Mystery and then lead the squad out to the car. They had decided to keep the car running this year, it would likely keep Eren warmer as they made their way to purchase a fake tree from Walmart.

Jean was still too hesitant on a real Christmas Tree. Knowing his luck, the damned dog would lift it’s leg and pee, probably to spite him. He relaxed back a little.

“Okay, I am ruling off anything that is covered in fake snow. I am still worried either Eren or Msytery will try to eat it, and right now Eren is at a phase where he needs constant supervision.” It was never fun to be the bad guy, but someone had to do it.

Connie took a break from the light lullaby he would sing when he was in the back with Eren, using a hand to gently pet the boy’s hair. “I agree. He tried to eat a tree ornimant last year...and not the eddible kind. We need to be vigilant.” As Eren fussed, Connie allowed his voice to return to the more angelic tone it had before.

Sasha sighed. “You’re right, our baby and dog are more important than the fake snow.” Of course, there was plenty they could do for all of this Christmas stuff right there.

Soon enough they where parked and heading into the Wallmart with Eren sitting in the cart area designated for holding kids.

Jean started to look over a green Christmas tree. He paused a bit looking at the already strung lights.

“Do I even have to ask?” Jean’s words where only met with an disappointed silence that he would even suggest a predecorated tree.

Connie stopped at a white Christmas tree, then just shook his head sadly and walked away from it. The eyes argument was pretty strong in his head at the moment right there.

Sasha paused at a blue tree. It was a pretty thing, but they also had a blue one last year.

Before she could make up her mind to suggest it or not, a small happy little voice cut through the air.

“That one! That one!” Eren’s little mitted glove showed the way to a Green Christmas tree, it looked almost life like. Eren sure did have a way of picking the Christmas trees.

“Alright, looks like our little tree picker has given this style the stamp of approval for the year.” Jean moved quickly, bending down and grabbing a boxed version of the tree and heading over for the cart.

“I have to say, this is quickly becoming my favorite tradition. Especially with our special little helper.” Jean kissed Eren on the head getting a happy squeal.

Connie and Sasha smiled at each other, then looked to Jean and Eren saying, “Mine too!” Simultaneously.