#I just want it to be clear it’s not gonna be a total sweep But it WILL be a FUN fight to see!

[getindumdums]

Wait. ALL?!

OHHH-HO-HO-HO!

This is interesting! Now. It’s probably still Rise. Cause. You know.

BUT!

03 has Giant DRAGON transformations!

And 87? Guess what THEY got in Red Sky!

GIANT MECHS! THAT SHOOT MISSILES! (Plus 87 had their Unstable Mutations in this arc. Which is similar to 03 Don’s Twice Mutation. Also they DO have a Krang-built Metal head on their side.)

-12 and MM is probably screwed though, they had one unfinished mech that doesn’t even meet the size of the giant 87-anime mech suits)

This is gonna be a FUN fight!

(​I just wanted it to be clear it’s not gonna be a total sweep from Rise at least. But it WILL be a FUN fight to see!)

chat what do we think.

Death Battle, all animated TMNT shows

All weaponry, mutations/transformations, & vehicles from main series + extended material (OVAs, comics, whatever)

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Adrenaline

Summary: Tyler Owens x fe!Reader -> After a tornado whirls through your town, everyone is left with an adrenaline rush. Except for you, until later that night where you meet Tyler Owens for a second time and he helps you.

Disclaimer: Mentions of tornadoes though not too much damage, mentions/descriptions of adrenaline rush/crash. Tyler being an EMT, found family with the Wranglers, Wranglers and Tyler creating a safe space for the reader. Fluff, hint of angst, but mostly fluff. Not Proof Read.

He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his whole life. 

You were sitting there, on an old broken log, stuffing your backpack with the rest of your things. Since you’d all been forced awake that morning by a tornado siren going off, everyone on the street was awake and looking bed ridden. 

But there was just something about you. 

To put it plain and simply, you were beautiful. 

“You need some help?” He asked you as he approached. 

“No, I’m okay. Thanks.”

“You sure?”

You stood with a sigh. “I’m sure.”

With a sweep of your hand, you hauled your bag over your shoulder. That was when your eyes shifted to your family, huddled by the end of the street talking to one of your neighbours. 

The tornado had passed through the street. Some things had been destroyed but luckily the houses remained mostly intact. 

“I-I just don’t know what we’re going to do.” you mom said, over and over. 

“Mom!” You were frustrated enough as it was. “I told you. I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, okay.”

Tyler turned back to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You softened a little. You knew he was only trying to help. “I swear. I’m gonna go and call the insurance and get this sorted out.”

And you did. 

Tyler stuck around with his crew for the rest of the day, helping people pick up pieces of fencing, a few doors and multiple dog hutches that had landed in other people’s gardens. 

But he kept his eyes on you. 

Somewhere between coming out of your house in your pajamas once you’d been given the all clear it was safe, and him seeing you help some of the little kids by the ambulance who were afraid of getting their blood pressure taken, you’d changed your clothes. 

Granted, a lot of people had. 

But you were one of the last in order to do so. 

And later that night when he pulled into a motel, he saw you again. 

Considering your house was still standing and whatever damage had been caused would soon be fixed by your insurance company, he was surprised to see you checking into a room. 

But taking a few seconds to look at you, he soon got his answer. 

You were shaking. 

You hadn’t been before. 

If he was being completely honest, he was surprised you hadn’t been in total shock. Waking up to a tornado siren, being forced into a shelter, dealing and helping others on your street, dealing with insurance companies and hold-music. 

He’d been doing his job for a long time, and even then he would be dealing with the after shock a lot sooner than you were. 

“Hey, you want some help?”

You turned and looked at him, recognising his face almost instantly. 

“I-I’m fine.” You sounded sure of yourself as you said it, but the shaking gave your body away. 

“Y/n, right?”

You nodded. “You’re Tyler Owens?”

Tyler nodded. “Professional Tornado Wrangler and qualified EMT.”

“Nice credentials. You give them to everyone you meet?”

“Only when I think they need my help.” 

He wasn’t being condescending. You could see as much from the way he was looking at you. 

“Do you mind if I just check you over? I’ve got my med kit in my truck and I don’t remember you getting checked on site.”

You nodded after a moment. Fighting him on it would only mean more energy, which you were more than lacking in at that moment. 

“Come with me.”

That was how you found yourself sitting on the edge of Tyler Owens truck bed, getting most of your vitals checked over. 

“How long will—will it take for the shak–shaking to wear off?” You felt cold. 

Tyler hooked his stethoscope around the back of his neck. “Anywhere between a few minutes to a couple of hours. Considering you’d been in a permanent adrenaline rush since this morning, I’d wager to say it might take you a little longer.”

“And the chills?” You felt your shoulders shake as you said it. 

Tyler sat beside you, holding his fingers against the pulse on your wrist before looking at his watch. “Right now, your blood is moving away from your skin and towards your organs to help with blood oxygen levels.”

Somehow, with Tyler explaining everything to you, it was giving you a sense of calm. 

“Mind me asking why you’re staying here rather than at home?”

“My mom keeps asking questions and my dad is trying to hide his secrets from the insurance company as if he works for the CIA. He doesn’t, by the way. He just doesn’t trust that he won’t have to pay anything despite the insurance saying he won’t,” you explained. “I told them I was going to a friend’s house to babysit for the night. I would go home, except home is a few hours away and I don’t have the energy to drive that far. So, a motel it is.”

“Well, you chose one of the best. There’s a vending machine that, if you hit the sidebar twice, it’ll give you free m&ms.”

“And you know this, how exactly?”

Tyler shrugged with a slightly knowing smile. “Not my first time staying in a place like this. Or this one, to be exact.”

“You go up and down Tornado Alley, right?”

Tyler nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“So, what do you do when you’re dealing with an adrenaline rush?”

“Well, I think my body’s used to it by now. But, best advice I can give is to just breathe. Taking a lot of deep breaths can help.”

You smiled. “Thanks. I’ll try that.”

Tyler smiled back at you. “You should try and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning?”

You nodded. “I suppose you will.”

And he did. 

It was around eight in the morning when you appeared once more in your pajamas by the landing of the stairs of the motel. Some of the Wranglers were awake, but like yourself, were still dressed for bed. 

“Mornin’,” Tyler called up to you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Alright. Took me a while though.”

Tyler nodded. “That’s normal. You wanna join us? Dexter’s making breakfast and he always makes extra.”

“No, that��s-”

“Come on! Come and join us! You’ll never eat a better breakfast.”

A chorus of agreements came from the rest of the team so, five minutes later you were sitting back on the open flatbed of Tyler’s truck, eating breakfast and talking with the rest of the team. 

“Well?”

“Best breakfast I’ve ever had. Thank you.” 

Dexter smiled before celebrating quietly to himself. “Yes!”

“So, where are you guys headed next?” You asked, looking around at the team. 

“Couple miles west, maybe. There’s meant to be a couple F-1 and 2s soon. We can use them for footage and completing a couple a viewer requests. You know, shooting fireworks and things to see what happens.”

Though you weren’t a follower, you had seen one or two videos recently of their chasing antics. And, for a devil-may-care it seemed, spending a dazed afternoon and a much clearer morning with them let you know that they only did it with safety in mind. 

“What about you? Heading back to your folks, or?”

You shook your head and swallowed your food. “Home. It’s not that I don’t love ‘em, I do. But…they can be a lot on a good day. And they never listen. So long as I leave them a detailed list of what’s gonna happen, they should be okay.”

You closed your eyes for a moment. “I know how bitchy that sounds. I do. I just…”

“It feels like you’re raising your parents instead of the other way around?”

You nodded, looking over at Lily. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry about it. My folks are the same. You tell them everything they need to know and they still call twenty minutes later asking you to make sure it’s done properly.”

“Yes! Thank you. Finally! Someone gets it.” 

You were aware of how loud you were reacting, but for the first time it was like you weren't on your own. 

“It feels like I’m doing everything I can, as well as my own things for my own life, only to be asked if I’m sure I’m doing it right. If you want it done, do it yourself! If not, leave me to it!”

You took a moment to finally breathe. 

“Sorry. That was…I’m sorry.”

Tyler shook his head. “Don’t apologise. I saw how you handled things yesterday. This is a safe space.”

“No judgement here,” Boone added. 

You looked at all the others and saw genuine agreement on their faces. And for the first time, you didn’t feel guilty. 

Later on as you were packing the rest of your things up from your motel room, someone spoke from the open doorway. 

“How long has it been like that?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at Tyler’s voice. “Like what?”

“You taking it all on?”

You realised what he was talking about but you just shrugged. “A while. Why?”

“How much free space do you get when you’re away from them?”

You shrugged again. “Enough to know I’m working.”

“And then, what? You come home and helped them fix whatever needs fixing?”

You laughed a little. “I’d not like I’m building them a new house-”

“I wasn’t talking physically.”

That made you pause for a moment. 

“Listen, I know this is gonna sound forward and I know it’s not my place but…just something is telling me to ask you anyway.”

“Okay,” you sounded out slowly. 

“Dani told me that you’re a data analyst. A nine to five, grey office, work from home two days a week, kinda thing.”

You nodded. That much was true. 

“What if I offered you a job?”

“Tyler-”

“No, hold on, wait. Just, just listen for a sec.”

You waited and he continued. 

“It’s not like I’m asking you to run away with me in some kind of Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves thing. It’s just, I saw how you were with the rest of the team today and I heard you, yesterday, talking to the kids?” 

You knew what Tyler was referring to. 

“You studied meteorology, right?”

You nodded, eventually. “I minored in it.”

Tyler nodded with a brief smile. “Then I want to offer you a job working with us. You can still keep your old job. If they let you work from home two days a week, I’m sure they won’t mind a little longer. Something tells me you’re pretty damn good at your job.” 

Tyler continued. “It would only have to be for the summer. You can come chasing with us and if you don’t wanna do it again, you don’t have to. But, we also have a home base in Sapulpa. We collect the data and try to find a way to use it to make sure people don’t end up getting a warning five seconds before a tornado hits their home. Even if you just try it for a week…I think you’d really enjoy it.”

“You know, when I came here last night, I didn’t think I’d be leaving with a job offer.”

“You should come with us, today. One chase. Just to test it out.”

You don’t know when or how, but you said yes. And one chase was all it took for you to get hooked. You loved the weather ever since you were a little kid. You’d sit out in your treehouse when it was raining and you’d stare at the clouds for hours just trying to figure out how they did it, until you were old enough to read the bigger words written in your science books. 

Two years later, you still found it to be the best decision you ever made. 

[moonstruckme]

Hiiiii:333

I was thinking about James (or poly!marauders I’m not picky) during the readers first time but she’s tense so it hurts when they put anything in:3

Ilyyyyy

Thanks for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, inexperienced reader, p in v, pain from sex

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 845 words

“Sweetheart,” James’ lips ghost over your collarbone, “you’ve gotta breathe.” 

“I’m trying,” you say, but the tension in your voice is audible. You let some air out of your lungs, and it’s a manual effort. 

“We don’t have to go through with this,” he reminds you. His fingers are sticky where he holds your side, lifting his head to see your face. “But if you want to, you’re gonna have to relax.” 

You take another deep breath, nodding. Try to make your muscles go lax and moldable. James sweeps his thumb over your ribs encouragingly. 

“Okay,” you say, “I’m ready.” 

He’s gentle as he sets about kissing your shoulder again, hand a weighty reassurance on your side, but when his length prods at your entrance again, you clench instinctively. His little sigh is so soft you know you’re not meant to hear it. 

“Just keep going,” you tell him. 

“Angel, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“It’s fine.” You bolster yourself, doing your best to loosen up despite the fizzing anxiety in your gut. “I think it’ll be easier once it’s over with. Like, easier for me not to worry.” 

James raises his face from your shoulder, looking at you steadily. You try to appear sure of yourself. James has already worked two orgasms out of you, getting you sopping and open and ready, and it’s not that you feel you need to give him anything in return for those efforts—he’s made it more than clear he’d happily fuck you with his fingers forever—but you want it to have built to something. You’ve wanted to feel him inside of you since the very first time you saw all of him, and now that he’s got you worked open there shouldn’t be anything more holding you back. It’s down to a mental block. 

James seems to find whatever he’s looking for in your expression. 

“We’re going to start slow,” he says, and there’s a firmness to his voice that, admittedly, helps. Your cunt pulses. “You’re going to tell me if it’s too much, okay?” 

You nod, wrapping your fingers more tightly around the bedsheets and breathing in and out. James leans down close again, and you set your other hand on his shoulder as he begins suckling at your neck. You try to keep breathing when you feel him lining up, but it’s still a shock when he pushes in. 

You make a small sound, more pleasure mixed in with the pain than you were anticipating. Your nails bite into his shoulder. 

“You’ve got it,” James murmurs, pressing wet, soothing kisses up the side of your neck to your jaw. He’s speaking nearly into your ear. “You did it, angel. Did so well.” 

“Sorry.” You retract your nails from his shoulder, pressing your fingertips over the indentations and kissing at what you can reach—his hair. He moves closer obligingly, letting you at his lips. “Sorry, baby,” you say between pecks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“Eh.” You feel his lips curve against yours, and you kiss the corner desperately, suddenly overwhelmed by nerves and relief and caring. “Eye for an eye.” 

A laugh bubbles out of you, and James’ smile broadens as you pull away, shaking your head. “Hardly fair,” you point out. “I asked for mine.” 

“How’s it feel?” he asks. Something you love about James is how you can always see what he’s really saying in his eyes. He’s so wide open and honest, it’s like he never learned another way to be. Now, even though he’s smiling, there’s not a lick of humor or flirting in the rich brown of his eyes. He’s totally sincere. “Want to just stay like this for a bit, get used to it?” 

You shift your hips experimentally, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. It’s a substantial intrusion, but you find you want more. If only to see what it’s like. 

“Can you keep going?” you ask, taking the hand that’s planted by your head and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“You sure?” 

“Please.” 

That’s always the magic word where James is concerned. He sinks into you slowly, covering your mouth with his to swallow your little sounds and pushing you into the mattress. You feel a new kind of stretch in your walls, something even James’ thick fingers hadn’t been able to prepare you for, but it’s not unpleasant. You squeeze his hand encouragingly.

James gets bolder, free hand migrating from your side to grope at your tit. He pushes and pinches at it while sucking lazily on your bottom lip, and the heat in your core, brought down to a simmer by your nerves, revives. You kiss up at him eagerly, devouring the low, pleased humming sound he makes into your mouth. 

“Doing better?” 

You nod urgently, breaths coming quick and desperate as he squeezes your tit in his big hand. You look into his eyes, and the love is clear as day. 

“Good,” he murmurs, kissing underneath your eye. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I’ll get you there, just stay with me.”

[brighttears]

Pheromones

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description other than having hair and female sex organs, no use of y/n

Summary: while searching through a mall with Tess, Joel, Tommy, and the couple others in your small group, you and Tess find a makeup store and decide to have some fun. It drives Joel crazy and you find out that he has just as big of a crush on you as you do on him. You sort it out in a furniture store. (Takes place pre-Boston)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), unprotected PiV, rough sex, Joel has a big ol wiener, public sex, hair pulling, creampie, Joel calls you a slut (with permission), dirty talk, pet names (baby, babygirl, pretty girl, sweetheart)

A/n: here’s another one from the drafts and some nastiness for the folks at home before I disappear for like a week bein busy 

—

“Ok, I’m warning you right now, Joel is going to fucking love this.” Tess tells you as she sweeps her finger over your eyelid with a very sparkly shadow called ‘lazy lapis’. You sit crossed legged in front of her next to a dirty floor length mirror, a collection of various makeup supplies spread between you.  

You giggle nervously, trying very hard to sound unbothered or confused or indifferent or something, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Joel,” she smiles, “you’re gonna drive him fuckin’ nuts with this.”

“Pff—what do you mean? Why?” You laugh too hard.

“Oh, you don’t have to lie to me. I can tell, and it’s the most entertaining shit I’ve seen in awhile so I’m encouraging you, actually.” She moves your head in her hands, pulling your other eyelid closed to brush on more sparkly blue.

You chuckle and nudge a question further, “Why is it gonna drive him crazy?”

“Because he’s a man, and he already thinks you’re hot, and I doubt he’s seen anyone done up like this in fuckin’ years. You really don’t have to do much at all to get him all hot and bothered. I’m surprised I haven’t caught him drooling already. Now, with the skirt and the shaved legs? Sister, he is done for.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle.  

“I’m right, and I can still tell you’re red under all that blush.”

“Fuck off!” You giggle, swatting her hands away, “Ok, that’s enough, your turn.”

“Fine, fine.” Tess smiles, handing you the palette, dropping her hands in her lap and closing her eyes for you with one more chuckle. 

You consider the sparkly palette and dip into ‘mossy mess’ to stroke gently over Tess’s lids. 

“So, you trying to make anyone ‘hot and bothered’?” You ask her.

“No one in particular. If the right one comes–a–knockin’, though…” You both laugh. “You’re lucky you’ve got one, though.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, one locked and loaded. Not trying to sound flippant, I just mean—and you can deny it all you want, and I know you’re both still just kickin’ rocks, but he’s got you and you’ve got him. That’s a special thing. It’s not just fucking.”

You hold her chin, tilting to assure it’s mostly even. “We’re not fucking.”

“Not yet you’re not.” She smiles. 

You remain quiet as you even out the eyeshadow on either side, glad that her eyes are closed so she can’t see how red you are. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, no, you’re fine, Tess. Here, look,” you take your hands away from her face and turn her to the mirror. While she turns her head left and right, examining herself, you comment, “Green is totally your color.” and smile. She returns a light one, then goes back to staring at herself. Finally, you ask softly, “…You ok?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just, haven’t… seen myself in makeup in a long time.” She chuckles, but you can see melancholy behind it in her eyes. She flattens strips of hair over her shoulders and down her chest.

“You look really beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She replies softly, then blinks, clears her throat, and turns to you with a smile. “Alright, where’s the lipstick?” 

Allowing back some childish fun, you both giggle, debating shades, laughing at their names, and making fun of each other. You settle on a pink lipgloss for her and she talks you into a blood red matte. The finishing touch is struggling to pencil on eyeliner and applying mascara. 

When you’re both all done, Tess whistles and you’re stuck on your reflection. It is a bit startling, firstly because of the bright colors Tess has picked out for you, and because of how much it changes your look. She shifts behind you and lays her head on your shoulder so that your faces are side by side. For a moment you just gawk at each other, then laugh. 

It’s a bit of a shock for both of you. One aspect is the experience itself, being ‘girlfriends’, playing with makeup, talking about boys, and feeling pretty. Your mind isn’t sure what to do with it—savor it, try to isolate it, forget what waits outside, or grieve for what’s already inside with you, what you can’t escape, no matter how much you pretend. 

Tess decides for you, sighing, “You know, I really, really missed this.”

You hum. “I never saw myself ever doing this at all.” You add, “But I’m really glad I’m doing it with you.”

She smiles brightly at you in the mirror. “Me too, kid.”

“Kid?” You turn to her with a smirk.

“You know I’m never gonna stop calling you that.” Tess slaps your shoulder after she pushes herself up from it. “Come on, we gotta get back. They’ll be sending out a search party any second.”

—

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Tommy announces your presence as you and Tess show yourselves back in the food court, getting the attention of the other three scattered around. Joel stands frozen facing you until Clancy throws a spoon at him, which then pings on the floor followed by Clancy’s laugh. Joel turns his head to him with a completely blank expression, except for his slack jaw, which remains down when he looks back at you. Tess elbows you, you shove her back, glancing at him a couple times before sitting down with Tess at a table across from Tommy and setting your packs down, the other seat filled by Neveah with signature lightning speed. 

“Was wonderin’ what was takin’ you two so long.” Tommy remarks, smirking. 

“You didn’t come and get me?” Nevaeh pouts dramatically. 

“We brought some things for you!” You assure her, and Tess sets on the table the paper bag you loaded up for her, which Nevaeh squeals over as she unpacks.

“Could you not make that fucking sound?” Clancy scolds, making Nevaeh’s smile fade and she hunches over a little, sticking her tongue out and making a face at the table instead of him. 

“Hey, could you suck my fucking dick, maybe?” Tess calls at him, humor absent on her face. She’s pretty much the only person he’s afraid of, and therefore pretty much the only one he’ll take seriously when she takes that tone. 

Refering to your perfume, he calls back, “You fucking stink, by the way.” 

“Smell way fuckin’ better than you.” Tess returns. 

He gives her a face but shuts up, turning back to digging through the ruins of an Auntie Ann’s. Tommy snickers. 

“You find anything good?” Tess asks him.

“I did not, but Joel found a furniture store.” “What’d you find in there?”

“Haven’t checked it out yet, wanted to touch base with you two first.”

“Well I wanna sit down, how about you go sweep it with him?” Tess looks at you. You stare at her, she stares unrelentingly back, smiling, “Come on, he’s not that bad.” You stomp on her foot, she cackles, and when you look at Joel he’s staring right back at you, looking like a deer in the headlights. Refusing isn’t really an option, because for one, it’ll look weirder to everyone else than if you just go, and you don’t want to hurt Joel’s feelings either. You do work well together, plus you’re friends, you like spending time with him, and… well, yeah, you kind of hope Tess is right about this ‘driving him fucking nuts’. You offer him a small smile and get up. 

“Go on, Joel, don’t leave the little lady hangin’.” Tommy says to him, Joel shoots him a look, and he cackles just like Tess had to you.

“It’s a big place,” Joel says as he joins you, “it might take a minute. But if we’re not back in an hour, start worryin’.” He calls over his shoulder as he starts out of the food court. 

“Alright, just scream if you find anything weird.” Clancy jokes. 

“Will do.” You salute him, turning on your heel to follow Joel. 

—

It’s silent for a few minutes before you break it to ask, “Are we almost there?”

“Uh, yeah, just around this corner here.”

“Pretty far.”

“Yeah.”

There’s only your footsteps until you’re at the wide glass doors, shattered along with the rest of the panels fronting the shop. 

You take your gun and flashlight from your pockets, crossing them over each other as he does and follow him in. 

The store is quite big, but wider rather than deep, with a separate room connected by a large open doorway. It doesn't take long to clear the first half due to it being one big open room, so all you have to do is walk around the perimeter, easily able to see over mostly tables, chairs, and couches, assisted by clear lighting coming through the open front windows. Joel glances back at you as you step into the next room, which is darker, the front windows covered by hanging racks of colorful, patterned rugs. Your heart rate increases as you flip through the racks, but there’s nothing hiding between them. The rest of the room is also relatively easy to run through though, being mostly beds. Once all cleared, you both take a deep breath and sit down on one of the large beds in the back corner, down the hall from the open doorway. The give from the bed surprises you and you let yourself sink in. 

“Wow.” You chuckle, looking at Joel.

“This must be one of those orthopedic mattresses,” he comments, lips curled. 

“If I laid down on this I would be asleep in fucking minutes, I guarantee it.”

You both chuckle, and then feel yourselves realize at the same time that you are currently sitting on a bed together, alone. You look down at your bare knees, pressed together, but don’t move. 

“So you did your makeup.” He says.

“Yeah, with Tess.” You look up at him and smile, then decide to add, “Do you like it?”

Joel’s eyes linger for a few seconds and then fall to his feet. “Yeah, I do. Been a long time… since I’ve seen uh… a woman in makeup.”

“Been a long time since I’ve been in it.” You stand then, making him look back up at you, and hold your arms out, “Do you like my outfit, too?” Underneath your normal jacket is a new shirt, actually your size rather than scrounged from other people’s belongings, and below it is a short skirt. You took an actual pair of pants, too, but just for fun, you decided to try this out, even if just for a few hours; and, when you picked it out, you did have him on your mind, just a little bit.

Joel looks you over, throat bobbing as he swallows, “Yeah, yeah,” he swallows again and looks down, “I–I do.” His smirk is shy when he looks back up at you, “Makes me feel like a man.” 

“You are a man.” 

“Well I know, but it just… y’know, you look like… a woman. Not to say you don’t usually, I mean, well, you look… desirable—shit, that sounds bad. You always look desirable, I just mean, uhm,” Joel clears his throat, panic visible in his eyes, and you can’t hold back the smile growing on your lips. Tess was right. “I’m not tryna—I mean, I just, fuck, I’m tryna say you look really good. And you know, there’s not a lot of… mainstream, uh, girly stuff left, and it just looks really good on you.”

“Why does that make you feel like a man?”

“Eh, uh, b–because… I guess what fits better is that you make me wanna be a man. More of a man.”

“What’s being more of a man?”

Joel is completely lost in how to respond. No way can he get away with being as crass as you’re kind of asking him to be. Nothing he thinks of trying to say sounds right, either patronizing you, accidentally insulting you, being mean, or lying. 

You take a huge risk, based on your trust in Tess, and he watches you with wide eyes as you walk over, bending his head up when you’re over him, and removing his hands from his lap when you sit down on it. You wrap an arm over his shoulders. Moving fluidly and automatically, one of Joel’s hands goes to your lower back, the other smoothing over the end of one of your legs, down your knee, resting at the top of your shin.

“You shave your legs?” He asks, soft but audibly astonished. Round brown eyes look up at you and you allow your free hand to rest over his chest. 

“Mh–hm.” You nod. 

His eyes flutter. 

“You wanna fuck me, Joel?”

He swallows. At this point, you’re sure you’re right, you just don’t know if you can actually ask him, like that, like this, now. He blinks. Out of embarrassment, your face heats and your heart begins to race. You nervously pull the fabric on his shoulder into a fists and then smooth it back out, looking for every clue you can in how his face moves. 

“Yes.” He finally admits, mostly plain, a little nervous. Then, he swallows again, and looks into your eyes while he moves his hand back up your leg, over your thigh, slowly into your skirt. Your lips part as his fingers graze over the very top of your thigh. He slows more as he lays his hand flat, then inches it down to inbetween your legs. You open them up, but he pulls them apart himself further to slide his hand down over your front, thumb resting on the top of one of your thighs while the rest of his digits pet over your pussy. A breathy moan escapes you and he breathes deeply out through his nose. His eyes flick to your lips and you lean down slowly to meet his. The softness of the kiss doesn’t last long, and while one of your hands grips his hair, moving your mouth into his, the other is tugging at the collar of his shirt. 

The heat is on, and Joel moves quick, pulling his arm around your back to maneuver you onto the bed, leaning over you to keep his tongue in your mouth, one hand on the bed and the other back down under your skirt. You grasp the front of his shirt in both fists as if to secure his position and eagerly link to his mouth, concern over the lipstick a ghost of a thought, that of the others out there not much more of one. Fuck all of that, you don’t even care if they hear you.

Joel removes his hand from you and you whimper, but they go to your hands on his shirt and you let him take them to instead intertwine with his and press into the bed. 

“Fuck,” he breathes outs, hot into your mouth, “baby,” you whine at the nickname, biting his lip to pull his mouth back in. He has to pull away to get a chance to speak, both breathing hard, your hands trapped against the bed. Joel’s eyes wander down to your chest as it rises and falls, then back up, pausing at your lips, then up to your eyes. “Goddamn, baby girl, look at’chou.” You whine and chuckle and his teeth flash. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,”

“Shit,” he takes a long breath out and hums, looking over you again. He pauses over you, then leans down for a softer, sensual kiss. The end is drawn out, neither of you able to take your lips away, until he raises up again, freeing your hands, but then comes back down, using his arm on the bed once again to hover over you while his other hand slides over your face. His expression alone has you soaking wet, you’ve been dreaming of something like this for months, pretty much ever since you met him, and finally, here it is, literally on top of you. His mouth is smeared with red and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“What?” He asks, breathing a chuckle with his eyes stuck on your lips. 

“You look good in lipstick.”

“Shit, it’s all over me, isn’t it?” You nod and giggle. “Well I’ll deal with that later.” He leans down to your lips again, his hand smoothing up and down your leg. The heat between you is electrifying, snaking tongues and bodies rolling to meet each other. Inside your chest, rising high and dipping low, is its own event, hot, heart rapid, butterflies and all. It reaches down between your legs, too—quivering, throbbing, a needy sensation. Joel does something to your body that you don’t even consciously understand. All you know is he’s not touching enough of you, so you pull your legs in to draw him closer. He follows your lead and lets his groin press against yours, hand feeling over your inner thigh, so sensitive, his touch the only one you want there, you’d trust there. 

He pulls his face away then, looking over your face as he slides his hand up to your chest, kneading your breast, then comes up under your shirt, twisting your nipple in between his fingers. You let out a shaky breath, watching him watch you with his jaw slack. 

“Joel,” you whine quietly, unsure of what you’re begging for, just more.

“Mmm, you need me to fuck?” He growls into your mouth. 

“Fuck, yes,”

“I’ll give you what you need babygirl, don’t’chou worry.” Joel smirks, eyes fixed on yours as he takes the hand from your chest down to undo his belt in one swift motion. He quickly undoes his jeans and pushes them down enough to free his cock, as large as you expected, hard and colored by veins. Joel pumps it slowly, his hips rolling into his own hands. “Shit, you’ve got me fuckin’ going. Need you so bad, baby girl.”

You furrow your brow at him; you couldn't help this pleading expression if you tried. You’ve had sex, even good sex, during the apocalypse, but never has someone taken much actual time for foreplay. And, you’ve never had sex with someone you’re this attracted to, nope, not by far. 

“Joel, fuck me,” you whine quietly. 

With a growl, Joel stands on his calves, keeping one hand up your shirt and the other still on his manhood, then shifts his hand up to work at removing your jacket and shirt. While you take it off yourself, in the brief moments where it blocks your vision, you feel Joel pulling at your skirt and panties at the same time, and when you can see again as you toss your clothes off the side of the bed, it’s at the perfect moment—Joel is pulling his t-shirt up over his head, his arms stretched up showing off the muscles as they shift with his movements, the roundness of his belly, and his pants already down with his hard length almost touching his belly. He doesn’t bother moving his jeans down anymore, just grabbing your thighs to tug you closer to him, then hooks an arm under one of your legs to hold up. His free hand slithers over you, feeling your hips, belly, around your waist, over your breasts, up to your face. His thumb pulls at your lip, trailing red down your chin. 

“You wearin’ all this to get me goin’, huh? All that perfume. God damn been so long since I’ve seen a woman so prettied up like this. You’re gorgeous, you know that? Lookin’ like a fuckin’ pornstar.” Joel leans down, forcing your leg further up under his arm, and drags heavy lips over yours. When he pulls away your lipstick is streaked all over his mouth and you laugh breathily. 

Joel smirks, then drawls,“Pretty girl.” As he speaks, his hand slides back down your body to back between your legs, making you gasp.

“Sooooo fuckin’ wet for me. Can I call you a slut, sweetheart?” He quickly checks in, you laugh and nod. “Yeah, you know you are.” While his thumb circles your clit he eases a finger inside of you. Your head leans back and you moan out because Joel’s finger is inside of you. That’s his trigger finger, too. “Yeeeah, I know, baby. You need a big man to make you feel good, don’t’chou baby? Huh?” He curls his finger and you gasp deeply, rolling back until your back arches, eyes closed, overwhelmed with pleasure. He hasn’t even done much, but your want for him makes every move more sensitive. “God fuckin’ damn it, that’s right baby. That’s right.” Joel removes his finger and you lay back flat to watch him dramatically lick your juices off of it, briefly closing his eyes as he does. Then, he shifts his hips closer, “Imma give you what you want now, babygirl, what you need, my big fat cock inside you, my pretty little fuckin’ slut.” And he does, taking himself in his hand to slowly glide into you, all the way in, and as you whine a moan he sucks in a breath. Once inside, he starts to very slowly pull in and out, only by an inch at most first. His fingers dig into your thigh that he holds against his hip. His other arm, hooked under your leg, angles to raise it up straight, sliding his hand up so that he can kiss your ankle as he moves, pulling farther out for longer strokes in. Joel fills you completely, just on the verge of pain, but the foreplayed paid off, as does the level of attraction you feel for him, widening you up for him, ready, wanting, carnal. 

You’re noisy as he speeds up, hitting your head back on the bed repeatedly and grasping at the sheets. 

“Joel you’re so big,” 

“I know I am, and I know you love it. Yeah, you need a real man to show you how it’s done. You did yourself up just so I’d fuck you didn’t you? Huh?” He emphasizes his question with a jolt, hitting against your limit. 

Head back and arms spread, you answer, “Yes, yes, Joel, harder like that,” 

“Mmm. Yeah?” Brutally, he obliges, and slips directly into your A spot, his length able to easily hit that area near your cervix. You react loudly and throw an arm down, reaching generally towards him. “You were lookin’ for a big man to fuck you good, that’s what you need. You need this,” Joel bucks into your harder, firmly hitting that spot inside of you that twists a snake of pleasure up through your whole body, making your chest feel full and you relax your legs, letting them fall open farther for him, overwhelmed with need for him. The only thought in your head is—

“Joel, yes, more, god, please, fuck,”

“Tell me you’re my little slut, my pretty little slut.”

“I’m your pretty little slut, fuck, uh-huh,” you whine out a high “yeah,” 

As he lowers his grip to your hip, your leg falls back over his hooked arm, and he copies the position with his other. Your legs bump against his arms as he slaps against you, his hair bouncing with the force of it, and to the beat of skin against skin are your moans and his grunts, growls, moans, and voice, telling you things like “Pretty woman needs a real man to fuck her” “All prettied up just for me” “That feel good?” “I fill you up so good?” and you accompany with a chorus of “Fuck” “Oh my god” “Yes” “So good” “I need you so bad” “Fuck me fuck me”

“Oh, fuck,” Joel’s voice shakes and he removes one of his hands under you, “Can I pull your hair baby?”

“Yes,”

One hand still holding your hip for him, his other holding a bundle of hair down into the bed, you get a full show of his mouth, forming O’s, licking and biting his lips, his eyes intermittently squeezes shut, rolling up, his head leaning back then returning to you, to watch himself slam into you, watching your chest bounce, on your lips, back in your eyes. 

“My beautiful lady, all made up for me to fuck, baby can I cum in you?”

“Yeah,” you moan out.

“Yeah, you’re made for me to cum in. You made up just for me to cum in, ah, fuck,” Joel’s head flips back and when it returns he removes his arm from under your thigh, pressing deeper into you to make up for the grip, then held in place by his body on yours as he drops down. One arm falls to support his hovering, forearm on the bed, so that he can rub his other hand over your face. He drags his thumb out from your eyelid, pulling both the color and mascara, making your eyes water, “Pretty woman, waitin’ for your man,” his fingers drag down to your open mouth, then gently squeezes your cheeks and swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, “to fuck you good. Only a man can fuck a woman this good. Isn’t that right?”

“Uh–huh,”

Joel hums, then, more devouring your mouth rather than kissing you, nipping at your lips, swirling his tongue, dragging his wet mouth around yours. 

The bed is shaking wildly now as he bucks his hips against yours, deep, hard, and fast, in the most erotic fashion you’ve ever experienced—not the jackhammer, copying porn kind, but a genuinely lustful force, still directly in the spot that derives a satisfaction that pulls your legs around him, holding him in place as you draw closer to your climax.

This movement makes Joel almost chuckle, and he fucks even more impassioned. The forearm on the bed lifts for his hand to find yours, intertwining your fingers to hold down on the bed. He keeps his other hand on your face, cupping your cheek. “You need me, you need me, tell me you need me baby,” you can tell Joel is nearing the edge by the way his tone heightens. 

“I need you, I need you, I need you,” you obey truthfully. 

“My god, can’t believe I get to fuck you like this, I get to cum inside you, cause I’m your man, you’re my woman, and I make you feel good,” Joel punctuates perfectly with one hard, deep thrust that finally takes you out. Your free hand awkwardly grabs at his wrist near your face as you torso rolls off the bed, as high as it can with his body pressing you down. Your legs squeeze around him and then release to open as wide as they can, and all you can think about is how much you need him to keep fucking you, how much you want him to cum inside of you, and you remember how much he’ll want to hear it, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming you make me feel so good please cum inside me I want you to cum inside my pussy, ahh, mmm, show me I’m yours Joel, fuck me like I’m yours,”

“Oooohh, baby,” Joel drawls, your mouths lazily and helplessly dragging over each others as Joel bounces you up and down underneath him, “I’m gonna cum,”

You reach your free hand up to grip his hair and tell him, “Finish inside me Joel I need your cum in my pussy, my pussy just for you, I’m yours, fuck your cum into me, fuck me til you can’t anymore, I wanna take all of it, I wanna make you feel good, I wanna make my man feel good, let me make you feel good Joel,”

He goes silent for one moment and then his whole body rocks into you, face messily pressed on yours, both of you releasing open mouthed moans, which he grunts through with his last final bucks, stroking out his ropes of cum. He slows, but stays inside you, fully riding his orgasm out, basically slurping your lips. You lay nearly limp under him, still grasping his hand, then moving your other over his cheek, watching his expression as he finishes. 

After a few more moments, he finally slides out of you and then sits back up on his calves to hike his jeans back up. When he’s covered, both hands come back down to smooth back and forth your thighs, shamelessly staring at your still open pussy. 

“Guess it doesn’t matter if we make a mess on this bed.” You chuckle, and he smiles up at you, teeth parted with a tug on one side of his lips. He shifts back up to over you to kiss you again with a long, soft moan, then sits back up, pulling your panties and skirt back up with one hand to then gracefully lift you back up to straddle his lap. His arm wraps around your waist with one over your cheek, and your hands come to rest on his bare chest, bare belly’s on each others. 

He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “I fucked you’re makeup up, sorry.” He mumbles, smiling. 

“It’s alright, it was just for you, anyways.”

“Really?” Joel smirks shyly. 

“Kinda, yeah,” you smile back. 

“Lucky me.”

You chuckle, reaching your hand up to swipe your fingers over his lips. “We gotta remember to take yours off, too.”

Joel closes his eyes and chuckles, “Shit, yeah we do.”

You hum a chuckle back, watching your fingers. How long you’ve been wanting to be able to touch him like this, be this close to him. 

��This took too goddamn long.” He mumbles, and you blush at his thoughts matching yours. 

“Sure did.” Then, you swallow, smile fading. 

“What is it, baby?”

You look down but keep your hand on his face, savoring the touch. “I guess I should have said this before, but, I don’t want this to be… like… I don’t want to just be your fuck buddy.” 

“Oh, no, no,” Joel quickly answers, “I don’t want that either. I really like you.” 

You look back up at him and he swallows hard under your gaze. A relieved smile slowly spreads over your lips and you slide your hand to the back of his neck, looping a finger in his hair. “I really like you, too.” You chuckle then, “I feel like a teenager.”

Joel grows his own smile, “Me too.” 

You kiss him again then, gentle and slow. When you pull back, he hums with a slanted smile, eyes half lidded. 

“We should probably get back.” You whisper. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Joel sighs, then lets you out his grasp. 

You slide down and get off the bed to stand, looking around you, “Shit, how am I gonna get this off?” You wipe your hands over your face, only really dragging the makeup around. 

Joel slips off the bed to stand, searching around with you before reaching around to grab the corner of the sheet. “Here,” he pulls it up to begin stroking it over your face. His brow is slightly pinched as he goes, methodically removing your makeup for you. Then he stands back some and sighs, “Good ‘nough.”

“Your turn,” you take the sheet from him and wipe at his mouth. The lipstick is more resistant, but the remaining saliva helps to get off as much as you can, though the act itself is a bit distracting. 

“Alright, that’s the best I can do.” You look back up to his eyes and stop in his dreamy gaze. 

“You’re blushing.” He whispers with a slight smirk. 

“You’re dreamy.” You admit freely. 

“Dreamy?” He smirks further. 

Sheepishly, you say, “Yeah,” but your shyness is relieved when his lips meet yours again. You drop the sheet to smooth your hands over his still unclothed shoulders and Joel rests his hands on your hips. 

He pulls away then, keeping hold of your body, “Alright, we really should get going.” You nod, sighing, then let go for him to grab his shirt and jacket to pull back on while you do the same. 

You watch each other as you adjust yourselves, and then Joel leans in, pulling your cheek for a quick kiss. He keeps his hand there when he whispers, “You’re so damn beautiful.” You feel your cheeks warm again. Then he steps back with a slanted smile, “Gotta admit, that's the best sex I’ve had in years.”

“God, me too.” You both chuckle, then he reaches over to take your hip and turn you back to walk down to the door next to him. 

“Alright, let’s go before they come lookin’.”

—

“Hey! You wiped off all my hard work!” Tess calls out as you approach. She, Tommy, Nevaeh, and Clancy are now all gathered at a table, talking and laughing while Nevaeh sorts through her pile of makeup.

“Ah, it just got annoying.” You lie with a nervous smile and tug at the hem of your skirt, “I’m just not used to it. It feels, like, heavy, you know? So I just took it off.”

“Mmm.” she nods, completely unconvinced. 

“So, all clear?” Tommy shouts over to you. 

“All clear.” Joel replies.

As you sit, you see Tess turn her attention to Joel next to you with a smirk, tapping her finger at a spot just under her lip. Joel quickly takes the hint and attempts to stealthily wipe away what must be stray lipstick. Tess shakes her head, trying to hide her laughter, and you focus down on the table, amused but embarrassed and a bit nervous of who else may have noticed. Being the good friend that she is, Tess speaks up, loudly beginning an unrelated conversation. Soon, you feel safe enough to look back up and join the conversation. Under the table, Joel sneaks a quick squeeze of your knee and then you lean it into his. He turns to you, smirk visible in his eyes as he looks up and down your face, and then turns back to the conversation, pressing the side of his legs against yours. 

“You know, I like it in here.” Nevaeh comments, swiping colors over her wrist. 

“We could always stay here for a night or two, there's that furniture store, beds in there right?” Tommy turns to you to ask. 

You and Joel both freeze. You’re tempted to lie, but Joel clears his throat and speaks before you do. “Uh yeah, but they’re all pretty dirty.”

“Are they now?” Tess raises her eyebrows with a smirk and you try not to smile back, widening your eyes and shooting her a look.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re been sittin’ in there for fuckin’ years.” Joel recovers. 

“Fair enough,” Tess says, pointedly not looking at either of you, “Plus, who knows who's done what on those? Fucking golden opportunity for anyone who’s even thought about fucking whoever they’ve come in this place with.” 

“Gross!” Nevaeh screws her face up at her.

“She’s not wrong.” Clancy says, leaning back in his chair. You catch him glancing at her next to him and laugh. “What?” He demands defensively. 

You shake your head, still chuckling, “Nothing.”

“Well, there’s always couches, right?” Tommy asks, looking at Joel.

“Plenty a’ couches.” He assures him, nodding.

“There we are then. We’ll stay the night at least.” Tommy decides and you all nod in agreement.

When you turn to Joel he gives you a knowing look, eyes widened with a slight smirk, and squeezes your knee under the table. You slide your hand down over his and he slips in into his, intertwining your fingers. You remind yourself to thank Tess later.

[quintessenceofdust88]

fuck it friday

(I STILL HAVE HALF AN HOUR OF FRIDAY OK SO I'M TECHNICALLY ON TIME) I was tagged by my darling @laundryandtaxesworld for this. Love you, Via! ♥ I've been working a bit on all of my fanfics the last few days, and I think I might get the groove of writing constantly again, so here's hoping hehe. For today, I'm bringing you the final part of ch. 1 of my fanfic Trail of Lies , so I hope you enjoy it! ♥ (USUAL WARNING FOR TRAIL OF LIES: THIS FANFIC CONTAINS BUDDIE, BUT IT IS BUCKTOMMY ENDGAME. IT STARTS OFF AS BUDDIE, BUT IT’S NOT REALLY BUDDIE-FRIENDLY NOR PARTICULARLY EDDIE-FRIENDLY. Therefore, I didn’t want to tag it as Buddie, because I know how annoying it can be to have ‘anti’ fics in your ship’s tag. If that’s sth that bothers you - either the Buddie content or the fact it’s not really a good depiction of their relationship - please feel free to skip this one, I absolutely understand)

The restaurant Eddie’s chosen is cozy and quiet, with exposed brick walls and dim lighting, a far cry from the usual burger joints where they go together on the rare occasions they go out. Buck understands the gesture for what it is, and he feels incredibly touched, and kind of bad for the doubts he shared with Bobby. It’s clear Eddie was just having a bad day, and it was unfair of Buck to question his excitement for their family because of it. 

Their meal is delicious, and so is the wine. They start the evening with small talk, and it’s fluid and smooth like it always is with them. He and Eddie were best friends before anything else, and Buck values that aspect of their relationship so much. Even though he’s aching to broach up the topic that’s been on his mind for the last few days, he waits. He wants Eddie to bring it up. 

“So, angel,” Eddie says eventually, putting down his wine glass and smiling at him, that smile that sweeps Buck off his feet. “Tell me what you found out about surrogates? Do you think it’s gonna work for us?”

Buck finds himself beaming widely at Eddie’s question. ‘For us’. That’s all he’s ever wanted, for the baby to be their plan. 

“Yeah, babe, I think it will” Buck says, and doesn’t stop himself from talking this time. 

He goes on a rant about all the options he found online and about how California law works for surrogacy cases. And while usually Eddie indulges Buck in his rants, listening and nodding at the appropriate times, now he’s engaged, he’s asking questions, he’s planning with him, and Buck’s heart feels full. “Before we go on about our surrogacy options, babe, shouldn’t we decide who’s going to be the biological father?” Eddie asks, taking a sip of his wine. “I mean… I have Chris, so if you want to do it, I totally understand”

“Actually, about that, there’s this thing they do at the fertility clinic where they mix up our materials”, Buck explains excitedly, kinda wishing he had his tablet there to show Eddie everything he has saved. “I… I kinda like the idea of watching our baby grow up and not knowing to which one of us he’s biologically related.”

Eddie gives him a beautiful smile at that, squeezing his hand once more. That’s the farthest he goes when it comes to public displays of affection, so to Buck it feels almost like a passionate kiss (or he wants it to, anyway). 

“Yeah, angel, I kinda like that idea too.” He declares. “Well, I guess that leaves us to decide the surrogate matter. I gotta be honest, Buck, I’m not sure about the whole agency thing. Feels kinda…”

“Impersonal?” Buck completes, and Eddie nods, to his relief. “Yeah, I thought so too. I really like the idea of it being someone we know, but I’m not sure who to ask”

Buck has given the matter a lot of thought in the last few days, his mind going through the women he knows and to whom he’d feel comfortable asking something like that. His first instinct, as most things in his life, would be asking Maddie, and he knows his sister would say yes. But Buck can’t do that to her, not when she had such a difficult time after Jee-Yun’s pregnancy. His niece is one year old and only now Maddie seems to be recovering, and Buck can’t risk doing that to her; can’t risk being the reason why she finds herself in that place again, and especially for a baby she won’t even keep.

And with Maddie out of the equation, Buck is at a loss. He would never ask Hen, he knows she has no interest in being pregnant, and he knows all about Karen’s struggles and how that is a sensitive subject for her. He had briefly thought about May, but she’s way too young and has far too much going on in her life for a pregnancy to uproot it. 

He relays all of those thoughts to Eddie, who listens intently, and then goes silent for a while. Buck goes silent himself, his mind frantically trying to figure out if he let anyone out, when Eddie talks. 

“I think I might know someone. We… we work together at the store, and we get along. I think she might be willing. It… It could be an option” He says, and Buck frowns, trying to remember if Eddie ever mentioned having a particularly close relationship to any of the store workers before, but coming up blank. Still, he doesn’t think his boyfriend would be inconsequential about something as important as their baby, so if this woman came to his mind, there must be a reason.

“Oh? What’s her name?” He asks curiously.

“Kim. Her name is Kim.”

Np tagging @bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @moonydanny @frogsinflannel and anyone else who'd like to join! If it's already Saturday on your timezone, feel free to consider this an Inspiration Saturday tag. Love you ♥

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Saw this meme and iiiiii did a thing... a steddie thing... obviously

( Eddie has a small dick in this if you don't like it don't read it. We support small dick supremacy in this house thank you for your time. 😊 )

😅😅😅

I'm picturing them at a bar. I wanna say maybe Steve is the bar tender, and he's been seeing Eddie around. He comes in. Talks a little, he's kinda quiet. Like he's stuck in his head, like he comes there to think. He's always scribbling things on napkins. Steve thinks they might be song lyrics, the way Eddie hums and taps his fingers as he writes.

But Steve obviously sees him looking at him sometimes. It's a gay bar, it happens, but Eddie doesn't leer at him, or chat him up in that way. It's always just friendly conversation.

Steve kind of loves it. Loves being able to just chat and not worry about getting stalked out to his car by a creep. And then one day some drunk dude is hitting on Eddie HARD. Leaning into him and grabbing at his arm and just when Steve is about to say something the guy actually says the words,

"how big is that dick?" Like... in real life. Out loud. And grabs for Eddie's thigh, and Steve watches Eddie catch his wrist, easy, watches him shove the guys hand back at him, saying,

"small. Leave me alone." Without even looking at him. And Steve fucking barks a laugh because that was... fucking hilarious. But also... kinda hot. Like, he's known he likes Eddie for awhile but seeing someone come on to him had sealed the deal, jealousy crawling over his skin, but then seeing Eddie shut it down, in the funniest fucking way Steve had ever seen, had just slammed it into place.

The guy scowls, says something rude, and stalks off. But Eddie is looking at Steve cuz he's still chuckling. Doing that cough thing like he's trying to cover it up but the laugh is still extremely prominent through the coughing. And Eddie watches him with raised eyebrows cuz like... damn okay. Cute bar tender thinks he's funny. And Steve is like,

"Sorry man. That was just, fuckin hilarious. Not the guy grabbing you, obviously, just, how you delt with it. Like that was... the best thing I've seen in awhile. Just... just sayin." He shakes his head to stop himself rambling more, he needs more friends to hangout with besides Robin, she's rubbing off on him. So he just reaches into the cooler and grabs Eddie his usual beer, slides it over the bartop to him, tells him it's on the house.

"Thanks." Is all Eddie says, but he looks happy, small smile still on his face.

And when the bar's closing, and Eddie is still there, just idly talking to Steve all night. Steve takes a chance. Says some cheesey line about letting Eddie walk him home. And Eddie flushes red to his ears but nods, takes the last sip of his beer and helps Steve flip the chairs onto the tables so he can do a quick sweep. Steve's locking the door when he hears Eddie clear his throat awkwardly, like he wants to say something. Steve looks at him, waits.

"I uh... look I know you thought I was being funny... earlier." Eddie scratches his head, nods into the bar. Steve nods, lets him continue.

"But I uh- I was also being serious?" He grimaces, eyes on the ground.

"So if that's like... a deal breaker? That's- that's totally okay. I just uh... I dont know. Thought I should maybe warn you before- before anything...happens?" His eyes widen and he takes a step back.

"Not that anything was gonna happen! Like I wasn't expecting... THAT. I just... oh my god I don't know. People can be assholes about small dicks so I just wanted to be up-front about it in case you thought I was kidding when I told that guy that. Cuz I was being serious and I'm gonna stop talking. Jesus christ." He breathes the last part, shaking his head at himself, his face twisted in what looks like pain. Steve thinks he's fucking adorable.

He steps closer, puts his hands on Eddie's hips and pushes him gently against the brickwall of the bar. Rests his head against Eddie's as he laughs a little, Steve's fingers pressing into his hips tickling a bit.

"I don't care. Honestly I uh..." he pauses, pulls back to look at Eddie, his eyes are wide, his cheeks are a deep pink now.

"I was kinda hopin you weren't kidding." Steve tilts his head, smirks at Eddie, just a little. A light smirk. Not the full thing, doesn't wanna overwhelme him. Yet. Eddie sucks in air, blinks at him.

"Oh. Yeah?" He asks, his voice breathy, pitched higher than usual. Steve nods, sinks his teeth into his lip, and brushes his nose against Eddie's.

"Yeah. Still wanna walk me home?" Steve asks, staying close. Eddie nods, his hands moving to Steve's shoulders.

"Yeah. Yes absolutely. I'd love that. I'd love too." He rambles, swallowing hard.

And Steve can't help himself anymore, ducks forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips. Eddie makes a little sound in his throat and Steve fucking adores it. Already in so deep for this guy. But it's been months. Eddie's not a new thing in his life. Just, this part of it is new.

Eddie blinks at him when he pulls back, steps away from Eddie but holds out his hand. Eddie smiles, reaches out and takes it, lets Steve drag him away from the wall and down the sidewalk. Their fingers laced together, hands swaying between them as they walk through the dark.

[centrally-unplanned]

Definitely split-minded on the Congressional CR/Funding bill and Dems not blocking it, I don't think there is a right answer. Overall I think the Dems strategy in the House to pretty much refuse to negotiate to force a clean funding bill was "right", in the sense that Republicans have an awful track record of putting one together. They just overcame their own weaknesses here (advantages of a "low-ideology-high-autocracy" system, Trump's team told them they 100% must pass something or they would get fucked but didn't particularly care what) and actually put one together. So the gambit failed, but it was a solid bet and even then while ofc the bill is Quite Bad, it isn't dismantling the welfare state or anything - it is pretty close to as clean a funding bill as one could expect from a dominant Republican majority (the DC budget cuts are the standout "pain for the sake of pain" play)

So it comes to the senate filibuster, and I just don't know. So a government shutdown is obviously, on the actual merits, Very Bad. It is always bad, but it will be much worse now because it does in fact empower the Trump admin to make much more sweeping policy changes - they have pretty-much-total authority to determine what is "essential" and what isn't. It would be a ton of suffering. And of course Democrats don't, like, control Congress. They can't draft their own bill, they can only play chicken.

Which is the other side of the coin - the reality of politics is that sometimes you have to do really bad things as part of the "game" because otherwise you get rolled on. If a government shutdown would get almost entirely blamed on Republicans, then it would probably be worth it. And if that was true that it would probably be brief, because Republicans would cave! Trump is increasingly unpopular, is tanking the economy, and is generally seen as a chaos agent. I can definitely see the argument for him getting blamed.

But I don't think it is a strong argument, because the Republican funding bill is relatively "clean" - it doesn't like slash social security or anything like that. All these arguments about "oh we need to have the bill hold DOGE accountable" are inside baseball legalese that voters will never give a shit about (and don't really matter on the merits compared to the court cases). The Republican funding bill, in isolation, is perfectly "popular" amoung voters. And Trump's entire "slash the bureaucracy" agenda really isn't that unpopular yet! Dems just aren't where the voters are on this. So if Dems block it, it also seems reasonable that they are going to get blamed. And that would be a huge misplay, as Trump's incompetence is the headline story right now, and it would take the wind out.

And this narrative stuff matters because it is isn't just about the 2026 elections; whoever is getting "blamed" is the side that is gonna balk in the chicken game. Trump is 100%, no questions asked, going to love taking away people's welfare services in order to make Dems looks bad, they won't cave on that. The narrative and the policy outcomes are intertwined.

So in that naïve case I think Schumer is probably making the right call? But I do think this could have been done differently in the lead up. Kelsey Piper mentioned the idea of outlining very clear red lines ahead of time, anchoring expectations, and then following through, and I agree that the House & Senate Dems did not do a great job of coordinating to do this. They may have been banking too hard on Republican incompetence. Hard to fix that now, but it is fair to point out and take notes on it for the future.

Obviously the true takeaway is the filibuster delenda est and the entire idea of government shutdowns and funding bills delenda est, this entire legislative process is an absolute joke. People should vote on bills they want to pass, simple as.

[that-one-pizza]

DP & Wolverine short fic. Hug?

This takes place on the walk home right after Deadpool invites Wolverine to come live with him. Dp has a genuine request.

Also on Ao3! (/ /) <- Punctuation indicates Dp breaking the fourth wall.

---

Walking out of the neighborhood they had so graciously devastated by their attempts at fighting off a horde of regenerating, smack-talking, red ninjas was gloriously uneventful. The sound of firehoses spraying, the smell of drying blood, and police chatter began to fade as the two heroes departed, heading towards the general direction of Wade's apartment. (/I could so call Dopinder to pick us up, but then I'd miss my chance!/) <- He'll be sure to pop in again just like that.

Deadpool clears his throat, "Hey, uh, Wolvie?"

"Hm?" the man in a hoodie and yellow pants answers, not breaking his stride. Dogpool trots loyally at their heels.

Wade stops, the bottom of his boots scraping the pavement and places his hands together, entwining his own fingers. This causes Logan to halt as well, beginning to wonder what was so important that they had to stop their trek back to the apartment.

"Today's been a lot, obviously. I mean, we've seen other cinematic universes, experienced the joys of the desert, you lost your top and your tits were out for the whole world to see and I know you've been terribly dehydrated for approximately 3 days, thanks Hollywood body standards." He's written in that last bit himself. Great.

"And, as men, we are incredibly emotionally stunted, and you can stab me in the chest for asking this: but I implore you, with the upmost respect, and desperation, along with the incredible willingness to beg for hours and hours the likes of which the reader has never experienced before (/even on Wattpad, you little freaks/)," he takes a breath, "…can I hug you?"

He sounds completely earnest, if a bit pathetic. Logan takes a moment to study the man with brown eyes that seemed to soften as he spoke his request, contemplating whether this was some ridiculous ploy to get overly touchy with him or to spring a sneak attack.

Finding Wade wearing a small hopeful smile, patiently standing with his hands clasped, and quiet as if holding his breath, Logan resigns himself with a sigh. It's been a long, emotional (though, he'll only admit it when he's 10 bottles down and forgets where he is), and painful day of literally saving the universe and he wants nothing more than to crash on Wade's couch. A simple hug between heroic partners wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"If you grab anything, or make inappropriate comments, I'll cut your damn head off," he says, though there's no true venom behind his claim, and lazily opens his arms.

In an instant, Wade closes the gap, eliciting an 'oof' from the other. The merc wraps his arms tightly underneath Logan's and practically nuzzles into his neck.

"Alright, bub. That's enough," Logan pats Wade's back. "C'mon, we gotta--"

He's cut off by Wade making strained noises, clutching him tighter, and attempting to lift the shorter man off the ground.

"Wade."

"…yeah?" He struggles out.

"My bones are made of metal," Logan supplies.

"Doesn't matter!" He tugs, only slightly elevating the other's heels, "I can totally do this! I'm gonna recreate the damn Notebook(TM) scene if it kills me," he readjusts his stance and heaves again. "Oh glorious Ryan Gosling, give me your Kenergy! HYAH!" There's a sharp crack and Wade drops his arms and slumps.

"That was your back, wasn't it?" Logan deadpans.

"I uh-," Wade twists his torso away. "Have no idea what you mean. I'm just taking a bit of a break!" /nice/ his yellow text box supplies. He rights himself with another loud crack, "YEOWCH! Ah, see! Good as-"

He's cut off by two large arms sweeping under his own, tightening around his lower back, and suddenly being lifted off the ground with a yelp.

"Like this?" Logan smirks, tightening his hold, looking up at the merc. That hairy man is a bit of a flirt, after all.

Instinctively, Wade lifts one of his legs at an angle and grabs the other's shoulders for stability, as if he'd need it.

(/Any excuse to grab those honkin' chunks of meat!/) Would you get out of my text and let me narrate it?! (/…yeah go ahead-- Wait! My turn to speaky./)

"Oh, Wolverine! So strong, so heroic!" Deadpool fawns, holding his hand to his own face, mimicking a womanly voice. Adding a slight growl to his voice, he then says, "Come here, my scrumptious Honey Badger," and ducks down quickly in an attempt to catch the other in a kiss.

Just as quickly, Logan reacts by completely releasing his hold and stepping back, allowing Wade to comically fall smack down on his face with an 'ack!'

"We're not doing that, bub," Wolverine grumbles, beginning to walk away.

"Yet!" Deadpool lifts his upper body off the ground, holding up his pointer finger. "There's a 'yet' buried under all those grunts! It's okay, my darling, I'll treat you just as sweetly until we do! And when we do, ohoho boy, sparks will fly!" Logan continues his walk away from the man lying on the pavement. Dogpool takes interest in the dropped man and begins licking at the side of his face. "Fireworks!" Wade finally gets to his feet, in pursuit of his partner, "Balloons! Confetti! It'll be on national news and Chappell Roan will sing at our wedding! It'll be the biggest LGBTQ win the MCU will ever have! I already have the arrangements picked out…"

Deadpool continues his yapping in pursuit of the Wolverine, chasing his dream of finally becoming mainstream official with the metal-clawed Canadian.

(/By the way, I totally coulda lifted him ;P/)

[unhetalia]

"Timed Choice"

Word Count: 1,011.

Rating: Teen. Contains mentioned England/Portugal.

Summary: The day America tells you he's going to get over you, you realise you're in love with him.

Notes: Written for @usukweek Day 2 - Time. A quick one, once again not yet edited. This one isn't as clear in it's connection to 'time' as my fairy tale fic, but hopefully still works!

***

“Um, England, I was wondering if I could talk to you after the meeting.”

It’s America. And oddly, he looks… unsure. He’s caught you during a short recess, and you’re ready to refuse—you're meant to be meeting Portugal for dinner, after all, and he's far more important than an ex-colony you barely get along with.

Still, for some reason you agree. "As long as you make it quick,” you add, just so he knows not to waste your time.

“It will be,” he assures.

You sit. He sits across from you.

“First off, this isn’t about politics or work,” America says. You feel relief sweep through your body, though now you’re curious. What on earth does he want to talk about if not business?

“And... look, this is already hard for me, so can I just say everything before you respond?”

You consider telling him to get on with it, but you’re too relieved you’re not dealing with a diplomatic disaster. “Fine,” you mutter. “You’ve got ten minutes. I’m meeting Portugal for dinner.”

He winces. You catch it. He tries to hide it, but it’s clear he doesn’t like Portugal. You’ve always suspected. Maybe this is about that—an attempt to air grievances about your boyfriend. Well, tough luck. You’re not breaking up with someone just because your ex-colony has a weird grudge. You gave up being my little brother in the 1700s, you don’t get to interfere in my romantic life.

“Look,” he starts again. “I know you’re with Portugal. I’m not trying to break you guys up. I just… I need to say this. For me.”

Great, you think. This is about your boyfriend.

“The truth is… it’s time for me to be honest. And it’s time for me to move on.”

He pauses, and you wait. You’re ready to shut him down if he starts badmouthing Portugal, agreement be damned. But for now, you stay quiet.

“I feel like I’ve always been waiting for you,” America says. I was always waiting for you to come back from wherever you were. When I gained independence, I had to wait for you to see me as a country, then as an adult….”

He takes a shaky breath.

“And then, when I realised I was in love with you… you were with India. After you two broke up, you got absolutely smashed and told me you’d never fall in love again. So I waited. I thought maybe, eventually, you’d be ready. But I must’ve missed the window, because a year later you were with Portugal.”

You're gaping. You’d been prepared to argue—yes, you were always leaving back then, but you had reasons. Now, though, your brain is struggling to process anything beyond America is in love with you. Has been in love with you. What? When? How? Why?

But he barrels on, not even letting you catch your breath.

“I realised lately that I’ve still been waiting for you. And that’s not fair. Not to me, not to you. It was selfish of me to hope you’d leave someone who makes you happy. And it was stupid of me to hold out for something that was never going to happen.”

He exhales sharply. “I talked to Maria about it. She watches all those dramas, and she said the first step to moving on is closure. So this is me ripping the bandaid off. Telling you I loved you for way too long… and that I’m finally trying to move on.”

He smiles, bittersweet. “Gonna go on awkward dates. Meet a few psychos on Grindr. Maybe someday I’ll fall for someone who actually loves me back.”

He shrugs. “So, yeah. That’s it. You don’t have to say anything. I just… needed to do this. Sorry if I made things weird. I promise I’ll be totally chill.”

He stands, offers you a quick goodbye and a half-hearted pat on the shoulder. You want to stop him. Ask him to sit back down and go through everything again, slower. Give you a second to breathe.

But you don’t.

You let him leave.

When the door shuts behind him, you sit there in the empty room, stunned. Because in the space of five minutes, America told you he’s been in love with you for years—and also that he’s letting you go. And in doing so, he made you realise something devastating:

He was an option.

And if you’d known that? You would have picked him. Without hesitation.

You’re ten years into a relationship, and somehow it took one conversation to destroy it. To make you want something that’s already gone.

What now?

You suppose… this time, it’s your turn to wait.

[normystical]

hrhrgrgrggr i wanna make an animatic of becky apples with certain hazbin hotel characters but i can't. and like even if i had the motivation this very second i do not have TIME FOR THAT so uhh might just spill my ideas all over here w/ altered lyric captions

husk . lucifer . ugh !! husk

i bet lucifer's got perfect hair [vox imitating sweeping hair back cuz he's a jealous and bald mfer lmfao]

husk. husk's got stupid STUPID [ears? claws? idk tbh but he doesn't have hooves so we're changing that lyric,,]

i'm never gonna eat another appLE EVER AGAIN!! [god have mercy on my mediocre art skills bc i will have to illustrate vox not only crushing an apple but with his clawed ass hands]

OO it reallt bunches my f luff to thrink how badly he hurtyou. bbg. tell me your story

[idk what to do with the lines "i left my rider so that i could raise an army (so that you could raise an army) then c-doug popped up and he said something alarming (oo, what'd he say?) he told me that my best friend's ridden (no!) another horse so pretty (no way!)" but i do want to have the latter two lines have charlie just talking about alastor and lucifer fighting all the time like haha those guys. those silly little rascals]

and his name is lucifer [morningstar/the king of hell/HIMSELF] because UGH of course it is !! !

lucifer lucifer whag a gorgeous famcy SCHMUCK luci how you like em apples cuz i think ur apples SUCK [naybe at that part i animate an apple pelted at luci just for shits and giggles itll be fun trust me] lucifer lucifer ggeues what i knew alastor first and while technically i dont know lucifer i know hes the WORST

ugh he is soo the worst vocks . right?? its unbelievable !! stupid luci. but can i tell you about someone whos,, kind of a total lucifer in my life? okay i—i mean im kinda not done being mad about lucifer bu—

WELL I WAS flirtin glirtin with a slick promstoar (this is not the same situation.) he was the finest spider femboy that i ever pursued (rhere was more than one??) he played me like a ukulele (he did.) i dont want no drama baby (too late?) but i FLIPPED when i found out his boyfriend was a wwinged cat guy idk how to change this lyric tbh sorry guys

oh that husk[er] that husk[er]s got stupid pretty legs and i bet that angel dust would let HIM adopt his eggs [cut to vox being horrifically confused and weirded out for half a second] hUsK [angel talking about him happily] HuSk [angel talking to him on the phone] hUsK [angel greeting husk at the door] HuSk [angel moaning his mame while getting fucked lmao get fucked val wait wut] UGH !! even his wings are perkier !!

maybe husk's flirty boyfriend is the one whos the ACTUAL jerk here... UGH!! husk!! making me feel bad for projecting my own insecurities and displacing blame on HIM, when HE really did nothing wrong? UGH. hes the WORST.

[vox clear he throat]

OH RIGht! ur sad :3

i feel ur pain girl, im ur vindicator, and we dont know husk, lucifer, we just know we hate him . this isnt okay and this isnt fiiiine

...let it out bbg

[vox drops his face into val's fluff as he sighs]

its just i thoughgt al,, would always be miine

ok spilling out my ideas FINALLY done jesus fuck this sucks when it's explained rather than imagined or animated lmao

[mieluselul]

aneska + banter dialogue , under the cut.

💌 idea stolen from @starlyht 💌

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 ,

" there's always more , isn't there ? " " i hope my hair looks okay ... " " la la la ... " " would it kill us to have a little sit down ? "

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 ( 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐭 ) ,

" eee ! " " is it weird that i'm a little excited ? " " this is so not like me , to be clear. " " oh , noooo , i don't wanna hurt anybody ! hahaha. "

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 ( 𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ) ,

" crouching makes my butt look totally plush , right ? " " sticky fingers. " " what , they just expected me to leave without a little gift ? " " i just wanna borrow a few things ... "

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐦 ,

" i don't need a fly buzzing in my ear. " " i'm not listening ... " " i am , like , so not concerned with you , right now. " " oh , my god. is everyone gonna be this annoying ? "

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ,

[ humming ] " ugh , ow ... i wonder who would give the best foot massage ... " [ singing ] " i'm a damsel , i'm in distress ! i need someone to carry me. "

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ( 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐭 ) ,

" hellooo-o ! " [ giggling ] " don't be scared ! " " don't make me hurt you ! oh , who am i kidding ? "

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ( 𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ) ,

" boo ! " " aww. they're so screwed & they don't even know it ! " " this is gonna be funny. " " shh. "

𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 ,

" fuck ! " " i don't wanna die like this ! " " no ! i'm scared ⏤ " " why is this happening to me ? "

𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 ,

" hey ! i know where you sleep , idiot. "

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 ,

" once upon a time , maybe. " " um ... not quite , sorry. "

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 ,

" yeah , in your dreams. " " that's a rude joke ! "

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐦 ,

" what am i supposed to do with this ? "

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭 ,

" aww. don't they know i'll only want it more ? "

𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 ,

" oh ! yay ! " " i mean , really , what did they expect , tempting me like that ? "

𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐛𝐞 ,

" i've been around. " " oh , woe is me , that no one will sweep me off my feet , & take me somewhere sunny ! "

𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 ,

" i feel so small ... " " who's up there , i wonder ? "

𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 ,

" god , you're disgusting ... " " aww. you almost look pretty. "

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 ,

" ugh , what do they think i am , a blonde ? " " aww , that's cute. "

𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐜 ,

" um ... something's off about this one. "

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐜 ,

" ew , ew , ew ! "

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 ,

" shit. here we go again. "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 ) ,

" no , please no ! if you can't do it , i can't ! "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐥𝐚𝐞'𝐳𝐞𝐥 ) ,

" oh , god , we are all so screwed ! "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ) ,

" please say you have some kind of spell for this ! "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐞 ) ,

" hey , we really need him alive ! "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 ) ,

" don't fly away now , little bat ! "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐰𝐲𝐥𝐥 ) ,

" but he's too cute to die ! "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡 ) ,

" no ! no ! this couldn't have happened to literally anybody else ? "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 ) ,

" okay , fine , now i'm really scared. "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧 ) ,

" oh , come on , big guy ! get up ! please ? "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐣𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐚 ) ,

" no , way ! she is way too cool to die for this bandwagon of chucklefucks. "

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ( 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐜 ) ,

" oh , seriously ? he has a hamster to take care of ! assholes. "

[storiesofstratos]

Chapter 2: After School Special

Our heroes grab a slice after school-

School was over before I knew it. I was out the door just as soon as I'd grabbed my stuff from my locker. Hopping on my scooter, I made my way quick over to Leo's. Inside the pizzeria, my two friends had already found a table, where I quickly made my way over to. I could already smell the pizza they'd ordered. A simple pepperoni pizza was more than enough to lift my spirits after a long day at school.

“I’m telling you dude,” Jack’s voice was the first I heard. “The Jets are gonna take this season, I just know it.” His fluffy brown hair swayed slightly in the autumn wind, and I noticed him brushing it out of his hazel eyes so he could get a better view of Daniel.

“The Jets?” Daniel sounded surprised and almost offended. I didn’t know much about sports, but it was fun to listen to them get heated about it from time to time. It usually entertained me for an hour or two. “Dude, what are you on about? They’re playing like absolute ass this season. Now the Comets, they’re crushing it. They sweep the Jets easy.”

“Now listen here, you little shit,” Uh oh. Daniel made the fatal flaw of insulting Jack’s team. I wish I had popcorn. “Those are fighting words-”

I cleared my throat to get their attention. “Guys,” I spoke after they finally acknowledged my presence, grabbing myself a slice off the tray. “Am I going to the junkyard by myself tomorrow, or not? Neither of you answered my text last night, and I could probably use the extra hands.”

“Are you still working on that bike?” Daniel asked, a perplexed look filling his emerald green eyes.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure she finished that last week,” Jack answered for me. Well that was something, I didn’t think he paid that much attention. “You’re working on a new project, right? Your little robot thing?”

“It’s not a little robot thing,” I corrected him. “It’s an automated buddy, it can keep track of dates and important events for me, set alarms, and remind me to, well, eat,” I let out a sheepish chuckle as I rubbed the back of my neck. “That, and drink water.”

“Oh, good. Maybe I won’t find you passed out in your garage again,” Jack took a stab at me with his words, causing me to want to duck my head away slightly in shame.

“It was only the one time.”

“That’s one time too many.”

I cleared my throat. “Anyway! Junkyard, tomorrow, after school, you guys in? I could really use the help!”

Jack blinked, letting out a sigh before he answered. “Yeah, I don’t have anything going on tomorrow.”

Daniel was a little more enthusiastic with his reply. “Yeah! That sounds like a lot of fun, I’m totally in!” I had a feeling he would be in. He loved that place almost as much as I did, even if he didn’t go there for spare parts.

“Awesome! Then, do we wanna hit up the arcade tonight?”

Daniel backed away slightly at my offer. “Ahh, actually, I gotta get moving. It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight, mom’s working late so it’ll just be me and Elise tonight.”

“Oh, does she wanna come?” Jack tried once again to extend an invitation. It was true Daniel’s mother worked late a lot. Doctors usually did though.

“Ah, no, probably not. I promised her I’d make her favorite tonight, so she’s probably looking forward to it. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she’s at home already. I gotta hit up the store on the way home,” He stepped away from the table, waving at us before turning and running off. “I’ll catch you guys tomorrow!”

I smiled and returned his wave, watching him slowly disappear into the distance. “Guess it’s just you and me,” My eyes drifted over to Jack, “Bet I can beat you at DDR.”

“Ha. You are so on,” He shoved me playfully before running off toward the arcade, laughing.

“Bastard!” I yelled out after him, chasing him toward the arcade.

[olderjodijournals]

Thursday, May 3, 2007

I can’t sweep yet since OLS is down. This is the second time in the last few days they’ve been down in the morning. I hope they don’t make a regular habit of it.

It’s cold again and I’m back in my robe and socks, heat blaring. I know I’m just going to have to listen to all kinds of shit every day down there in Cali, but I almost wish it would stay cold and rainy to keep things quieter until we leave and to keep the bugs out. It has no effect on the barking, but it curbs the stereos, and those are certainly worse than the dogs. However, it’s to be back in the 60s and 70s in a couple of days. From there on out, I doubt we’ll have any more days under 60º before we leave. It figures, too, that by the time I’m back on nights, it’ll be noisy as hell in the daytime. I’ll just have to remember to add the earplug to the sound of the air cleaner.

We’ve decided to go ahead and sell stuff on eBay, but haven’t yet decided exactly what we’re gonna sell. Tom’s still researching what things are going for. He’s going to set the prices and launch the sales this weekend, and I’m going to do the photoshoots and write-ups.

We’re going to be broke for the next week because Tom thought we’d break even tax-wise, but was wrong. We ended up owing a total of $500. What’s the point of making so much money if we’re just going to have to give so much of it away? And to people and causes that don’t even pertain to us! We’re paying for schools we have no animals going to, for hospitals we don’t use, for roads we don’t drive on, for lazy freeloaders to sit on their asses, etc. Is God just trying to give us a little taste of what we’re in for once we move? Well, if He is, He’s wasting His time. A thousand years of money couldn’t make me forget what it’s like to struggle!

Saturday, May 5, 2007

I’ve been so into Netwinner that I’ve been totally neglecting my story. Oh well.

We’re going to sell stuff on eBay next weekend. Unfortunately, eBay’s not like it used to be. It’s more expensive and things don’t get as many bids anymore due to all the eBay stores there are today. We’re not going to put the 8 Barbies up that I don’t want. They’d be better off at yard sales. I offered them to Jessie for her daughter, and she said that’s really sweet of me, but the kid has enough toys. We’re going to be putting up things like the diamond, the autographed guitar, action figures, the shoes that don’t fit the mannequins, a board game, and a few other things.

I’ve been watching what I eat in hopes of keeping out of the 140s until I can get my hands on that Claritin. But “watching what I eat” and “cutting back” only keeps me where I’m at which is 135. Better than to gain more. I still wish I could just puke up what I eat since I can’t starve. I don’t think it’d be as gross as when you get sick. It’s nausea that’s the worst thing and that wouldn’t be the case if I could simply stick my finger down my throat and puke.

It’ll be interesting to see what Tom’s boss says when he tells them on Monday that he’s leaving in June. I say that if they’re not going to offer a partnership or $20 an hour, nothing’s worth staying here for.

He may see if he can get someone at work he trusts to cash that $2500 check I still don’t think we’re meant to have. I wish I could be invisible and mingle with his coworkers. I’m really good at sensing who’s trustworthy and who’s not. Since people don’t do things for nothing, we’ll offer them some money for doing it, and we’ll pay the $6 fee if it doesn’t go through. If we don’t go through one of his coworkers, we’ll contact the check cashing place and see if they’d be willing to hang onto it until it clears. We could still try to cash it in California. It’s just that the check matches this address while I have an Oregon ID.

I’m still both nervous and excited about the move. I don’t know what would shock me more – to end up in a place that’s not attached to someone else’s, or for him to start off higher than $8 an hour.

In neighborhood news, next door’s vacant again. Even apartments don’t turn over this often! Tom thinks it’s cuz the place is too expensive. I’m glad we’ll be outa here next month because this is a hell of a time to get new neighbors in a 3-bedroom house! Tom’s not sure we’ll get new neighbors before we leave, but I think we will. It only took a month or two last time around and that was in the dead of winter.

Not much from Kim. She sometimes still comes and goes with music. She must have a favorite song she plays over and over because it’s always the same beat I hear.

Sunday, May 6, 2007

Kim apparently worked last night and came in playing her favorite song this morning. She should be hitting Dreamland right about now.

Tom’s checked jobs and found that many of them start off at $10 in Sacramento, and without having to pay for insurance like he does here, it would almost be like making the same amount he makes here. The only difference will be that I’ll be insured too, and the rents will be higher. I would be ok with it if we could find a dump similar to this one that wasn’t by a canal, was level, and had space indoors for at least a small stackable washer/dryer. A dishwasher would be nice too, but it’s not that big a deal. If the dump was a little bigger it’d be worth it than spending more money on a nicer place. Since we can never have our cake and eat it too, I’d rather live in a dumpier place and have extra money, than put it all in a nicer place.

Food and gas are more expensive here, too. Veggies should be cheaper down there being in farm country. Yeah, all that farmland, yet never a farm for us to live on! (which I’d still kill for if we can’t live on a houseboat) That’s about as bad as being in the middle of a grocery store starving and broke.

The reason I’m glad veggies will be cheaper there is that while I don’t want to get my hopes up just yet, I think I may’ve finally, after a decade, found the magic combination diet-wise. About a week ago I got an idea for a tomato diet. The only problem is that these grape-sized tomatoes I love so much and that are way low-cal are $4 a container. I’m trying to mix in carrots and apples, though I don’t like carrots. They’re better than celery and citrus, though. A bushel of carrots and a couple of apples are half the cost of grape tomatoes. Anyway, I have a sandwich after being up a few hours, a TV dinner or something like that 6 hours later, then I munch on a container of tomatoes all throughout my day and it seems to be helping so far, but I just got over my period. It could very well be just water I’ve lost.

Monday, May 7, 2007

It’s a gorgeous day out there today and the city’s assholes are doing all they can to ruin it and spoil the peace. And it’s not even 1:00 yet! Between 2:30-8:30, it’ll be at its worst. I wish some people would start shooting some of these assholes! Maybe that’d scare them into shutting up. Then again, these are the kinds of people that don’t take their lives very seriously to begin with. Meaning, just like with the freeloaders, they’d be very happy to die for their little attention cause, their sole purpose for living as far as they’re concerned. France has made it illegal to sell anything over a certain volume. I don’t agree with their limiting volumes in headphones, but speakers should be limited everywhere. Tom did some research and found that some towns are taking steps towards curbing the problem, but not surprisingly, they’re mostly eastern towns, particularly Florida where it’s touristy. There you can’t play stereos loud enough to be heard 50’ past your car or they’ll take your speakers if they catch you. Sadly, we’re still many years away, if ever, from achieving overall peace from these things or from people leaving their dogs out to bark up a storm.

At least there’s some good news. My doll’s on its way, and Tom found my sleeping disorder online! He came in while I was watching a movie to tell me that he found it by accident and that it’s even got a name. I forgot what it is, but this is no article written by an individual, it’s a diagnosed and documented problem in a medical journal! Tom said that when he read it, it sure sounded like me where a person’s schedule jumps forward an hour or so each day and that they have no inner clock to set, etc. He read the article to me, and not surprisingly, there is no cure, but it does suggest some things I’ve already done to help for when I have appointments or something to do that requires me to be on days, like taking melatonin and B12 supplements.

So then we got to thinking and discussing some ideas. We’ve decided we’re going to go to a sleep clinic down in Sacramento. Surely they’ll have one there while Klamath Falls has probably never even heard of any such thing. We’re going to see if we can get them to diagnose me, then get my disability benefits back. When they kicked me off in ’94 I was elated because all I could think at the time was wow, what a major accomplishment. Not there goes some extra money we could really use. But I’m older now and don’t care what people think. You know that in the past I’d put up with someone telling me gays were sinners, evil, ought to be killed, etc. Today I’d just dump them in a heartbeat. So I don’t care what stigmas go with being on disability. The bottom line is that I truly am disabled and have been all along and we could use the extra money. You know it burns me up to see people getting free money simply for being black or Mexican, while I sit here, truly unable to work outside of the house, and no one gives me shit.

What would be really exciting, though I’m trying not to get my hopes up, would be to not only get back on my benefits, which I estimate would be around $600 a month these days but to get back payments as well. Back when they cut me off when I was 18 simply because I was 18, and when my father got me back on a few years later, I received 6 grand. The question is what exactly is the reason I was put on disability in the first place? The sleep disorder was kept in check as a kid because I had something to motivate me that I don’t have now - a bitch of a mother who’d have gladly torn me apart limb by limb if I didn’t get up and get my ass to school, followed by an equally abusive system who’d have done similar. Even so, falling asleep and waking up in the mornings as a kid was always a hardship for me. But when it comes from the mouths of Doe and Art O, it’s hit or miss as to whether or not it’s the truth, so I don’t know the exact story behind the benefits. I’ve heard it’s because of his bad heart, because of my ear, because I was crazy. But as Tom said, either of these would tie into the sleep disorder. They’re all kind of intertwined.

There have been times I thought of bringing it up to a doctor but was afraid I’d get, “You’re just being lazy. You’re spoiled, you’re stubborn. You’ve simply gotten yourself into a bad habit. Just set your alarm clock and get up when it goes off.”

All you really hear about is those with insomnia, but never this. I still don’t think many people are aware of this, but it’s nice to know that I’m not all alone in this situation as I thought I was. It’s the common things people focus more on. Like when a guy can’t rise to the occasion, versus those who can get hard, but not off like Tom. Whether or not part of his problem is age, I really thought he was doing this deliberately for fear of impregnating me, and so many years ago I told him, hey, 80% of the male population doesn’t want kids, so if that’s it, just tell me. But I always thought he was afraid to admit it for fear of me either leaving him or attacking him, till a therapist showed me some literature on it and I read about another case online. They too, could only get off once in a while. And we think this is only a woman’s problem! Besides, the more I got to know Tom, the more I could see he was not your typical male. I wouldn’t have married him if he was. Trust me, he’s not the kind to run from a kid, unwanted or not. He’s the responsible type. He is my one blessing amongst many curses in life. If it wasn’t for his accepting me as I am and supporting me all these years, there’s no way I could’ve survived.

Anyway, I’m truly not alone! Tom said there’s this guy at work whose mom has this problem. How she raised a kid with it is beyond me. This was one of the many reasons I decided having a kid wasn’t a good idea. I just didn’t see how I could be there for it half the time.

As I said, I’m trying not to get too psyched up, but if I could get back payments, that wouldn’t make us rich, but after all these years it could very well buy us a house where we want! I still don’t think God would be that nice to us, or that they’d fail to point out that I never appealed the decision to terminate my benefits in ’94 in the first place. I could argue that I wasn’t as enlightened as I am today and that I didn’t think I stood a chance of proving my case and fighting it, but I don’t know how far that’d get me.

Later...

Glinda arrived. She’s your typical Tonner doll – very nice.

Kim left 10 minutes ago playing her favorite song, though not too loud.

I thought today would be a madhouse since it was nearly 80º, and while it was annoying, it didn’t end up too bad.

Tom said that we could also argue that I was under the care of their doctors, yet they failed to diagnose me back then. Whatever happens is going to take years, and I just fear that it’s yet another tease from God. Is He going to watch me run around like crazy trying to get what’s rightfully mine just to see me fail in the end? I’m 41 years old and I have yet to see Him compensate me for anything or anyone He’s cursed me with.

Tom told his boss we plan to leave and asked how much time would be appropriate before he quit. The boss said to give her a few days to see if she can come up with a replacement and she’d let him know then, but to feel free to leave if this takes too long.

Oh, we will. No doubt about that! I’m glad they didn’t try to bribe him into staying with big bucks. We want money, but we don’t want to be miserable either. He really hates that place. We’re not sure how much notice we’re going to give the rental company. We don’t want to cut it too close and ruin our chances of them being a good reference for us if we need it, but we don’t want to give them enough time to pester me with show-and-tell. Tom can talk to them about that and see what can be worked out.

The ball has begun to roll! This is it, the beginning of the end of Oregon. The beginning of pulling our lifelines from this damn state one by one! I just don’t know if we’ll make it out by the 1st. It may be closer to our anniversary.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Tom may’ve been the one to screw up this week’s money (he forgot to factor in the radio and movie download fees), but it’s moments like this that keep my hatred toward God in full swing. It’s only a week of struggling, and we both want to cut back anyway, but here we are at 41 and almost 50 playing the poor bum game yet again. God’s little bums. Always His little underdogs, His black sheep of our families. Our pitiful, non-deserving families. We should’ve had a kid and abused or abandoned it. Then maybe we could live where we want in peace and always have a nice big fat cushion to count on and then some! We’re just glad we didn’t do eBay last weekend or else we’d be starving all week, and that wouldn’t be the least bit easy without Claritin. At first I had been against delaying eBay which Tom wanted to do to keep our cushion before he knew we’d lose it altogether, saying that we’ve got to get used to being broke all over again. You know God’s going to hold us down another year or two, maybe longer. For now, we gotta go semi-hungry because our wonderful government just had to have half a grand of his hard-earned money for all the wrong reasons.

Tom’s going to call them next week since we can’t always trust what people tell us, but a coworker of his gave him the name of a check cashing place that will cash checks if they’re allowed to keep the money till the check clears. Maybe we are meant to have that $2500 after all, but I don’t want to get my hopes up just yet. When we go we’re going to go to the Chinese place one last time.

Meanwhile, we probably are going to take the truck and sell 8 different items on eBay this weekend.

It’s going to be hard to not give up trying to get my disability reinstated. When has God ever allowed anything just for me? And He knows it wouldn’t be just a few extra bucks a month, but a few extra hundred bucks a month.

I’ve still been neglecting my story, but I’ve swept, I’ve watched movies, and I’ve climbed just over 40,000 points on Netwinner. I’ve had some small wins lately, but nothing worth noting here.

The weather’s been warm. We haven’t needed heat for a few days now. We even had some surprising thunderstorms tonight and last night.

Friday, May 11, 2007

We’re just now winding down from what’s been an obnoxious afternoon with the usual mix of music, barking and her next door. This is a rather odd time for her to be coming and going, too. She’s obviously not working tonight, so hopefully she won’t come and go too often. Although the stereos haven’t been the every few minutes they were last summer, they’re still often enough, every 15 minutes or so. Of course just once a day is too much for me! But they’ll be a fact of life every day of our lives since no one cares enough to do anything about the problem. We’re aiming for 3 things when we move. I don’t know if God will let us, but we want to try to get into a house that’s not on a shared lot of any kind like this one is. We want a place without a lease. And we want a place on a quieter street. Sure all it takes is one bad neighbor, but without being locked into a lease, we can run anytime we want. I don’t know if we could hide, but we could at least run. We’re thinking we’re going to leave closer to our anniversary, making it exactly 3 years spent in Oregon. He’s been working overtime, so that brings in $500 a week rather than $400. If the overtime stops, then we may bail out sooner. Even if we don’t get that check cashed, we should be going out with a lot more money than we came in with, plus there’ll be the Unemployment we didn’t have before.

They were mowing next door. I doubt we’ll be able to finish out our last 35 days or so here without new neighbors over there, but I can still hope.

Because we know what it’s like to be hungry and that not all hungry people are lazy or on drugs, we’re contributing to the food drive this year. We’re donating 3 cans of tuna, 3 boxes of mac & cheese and 3 cans of soup. The only ones I’d never support are third-world countries. Here, you can be financially set, have kids, then go broke due to situations beyond your control, but poverty is an everyday fact of life for everyone in third-world countries. Therefore, I think it is just so wrong to have babies you know damn well you can’t afford, then expect other countries to foot the bill for you. It’s so unfair and cruel to the child to go bringing it into such horrible living conditions. A whole lot of birth control is what people should donate to them, not money! Third-worlders also tend to be very prejudiced. They’re just a bunch of whiny little bigots stuck in the gimme-gimme-gimme mode, without a care in the world for others.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Now that I’ve managed to block out the city’s desperate with earplugs, I’m being woken up by strange nightmares. I’ve had all kinds of bizarre dreams lately. I was about to be executed in one for God knows what. In another, I was being stalked by some unseen force. In yet another, I was stranded somewhere.

Just like with all other diets I’ve tried since I was 37, the tomato diet is a bust. It brought me down 5 or 6 pounds, but it doesn’t look like I’ll lose any more without cutting down even more and I’d never be able to take the hunger. The weight’s got to be starved off, so I’ll just wait till I can get a hold of the Claritin as I originally planned. Then God can have it turned into a prescription drug down there too, and I can gain all the weight back and then some! But I’ll never get back into the 120s at the rate I’m going. If it were possible to lose weight at 1300-1500 calories at this age, then I could. It would be a slow process, but a possible one. Now I could only lose on 800-1000 and if I could stand that then I could stand to starve.

At least I’m now up to 57,060 points! I hit 5,000 two nights in a row.

I could also read the fine print on our calendar for the first time ever! It’s been over a week since I’ve worn my glasses, though I still need them for ultra-fine print and for book-reading. I’ll never get my eyes like they were 15 years ago, but they sure have improved.

Jessie said she hasn’t been online much lately because they’re looking for a new place to live. Her landlady is an ex-coworker who thinks she’ll put up with all kinds of stuff just because they know each other, she says.

I said why not join us in Sacramento? They need accountants there, too. Now would be a good time to relocate; before her daughter’s old enough to establish friendships she’d have to break. I added that she won’t find a house in the west without all kinds of barking, but she must not mind noise since she’s had two kids.

But most people don’t have the guts to move that far from home, and she may have too many close connections that’d be too hard to break, whereas I didn’t have a loving family or a job holding me back. It’s probably best that she stays put anyway since I wouldn’t want to deal with a 4-year-old in the picture as destructive as they are. Jessie’s not the type to discipline a kid all that much because she’s more easygoing. She’d just laugh it off when the kid broke something, whereas someone like Doe would become utterly furious.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

We’re in the 20s now! Yes, just 28 days to go as of midnight! That is, assuming we really do leave on our anniversary, which is what it’s looking like. Then it’s off to listen to new dogs, new neighbors, new car doors, new stereos, and to acquire new medical problems and new money problems, but it’ll be nice and warm most of the time!

People are so fucked up. Just so, so twisted. They don’t want the semis, the trains, the planes, but they have no problem with these stereos and all the barking. I just don’t get how so many people can be so damn backward like that! That’s like saying, “Someone can rip me off for $100, but God help them if they rip me for $10.”

Last night I read without my glasses! It was blurry, but I managed.

OLS has been disappointing lately. Sweeps are being submitted like crazy with extreme rules and restrictions and all kinds of requirements. $30 a year may not be much to pay, but it really stinks when you’re finding more and more that you don’t qualify for half the sweeps submitted each day. So many sweeps lately want you to submit this, download this, upload that, do this, do that, and it’s getting very frustrating. I don’t think those who are running the site aim to please their members, though. Not after the way they’ve treated me in the past. I really don’t think they care if they lose a few members here and there. Still, it’s really getting old to find that so many entries require such hard work if I even qualify for them in the first place. Whatever happened to the good old days when simple ‘fill and submit’ forms were the norm without so much age discrimination and other requirements attached? Today, more than half the sweeps are for parents (like they’d have time to sweep with kids?), teenagers, babies, business owners, teachers, or you have to submit tips, reviews, recipes, videos, photos, take long surveys, search for whatever, write an essay, answer this, answer that – arrrrgggghhhh! It’s just so frustrating! This doesn’t mean I don’t still love OLS, but enough is enough already! Over 150 sweeps were submitted yesterday and I didn’t qualify for about 50 of them. Another 50 or so was just too much work. I hope they’ll consider making some of the changes I’ve suggested to them, but I won’t count on it. Again, I really don’t think they care. Instead of their attitude being “What can we do to please our members?” it’s “Ignore the sweeps you don’t want or leave OLS.” They haven’t come out and actually said this to me, but they may as well have since ignoring my complaint is pretty much saying just that.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Kim and her song just came in, and I gave her a song of my own back, only much louder.

I got a kick out of this study 60 Minutes did about what makes a person gay or straight. While scientists are agreeing more and more that it’s not a choice or genetics (cuz identical twins can be gay/straight), it’s funny to see them make such a big deal out of nothing at all. It’s really no great mystery. It’s not upbringing, genetics, choice, or the fact that most guys are fucked up, it’s all in the hormones. Dah! The rat experiments they did even prove it. You think all gay guys just happen to be fems while gay chicks happen to be masculine? No way! I may be more feminine than most chicks that dig other chicks, but compared to most chicks, I’m really not that feminine when you consider my temper. Some of that may be my upbringing, but not all of it is. So the question’s not the cause, it’s when will people leave us the fuck alone? If I had to be reincarnated I’d still want to come back as a woman and gay. Except for Tom, guys are still uglier, dumber and not as good in bed. I’d just like to be Asian next time around so I can have nice dark eyes and hair. Straight hair too, probably.

Tom saw someone moving in next door yesterday but didn’t see any people. Just a van parked in front. Yeah, I knew it wouldn’t take long. Especially at this time of year. I know we’re going to have neighbor problems galore down there, but I’m just glad that whoever these people are, we won’t have to live with them for long up here!

We’re now debating whether or not it’s worth staying an extra two weeks, till his birthday, to get AARP discounts which he’ll be eligible for then since he’s turning 50.

Tom’s got a cold now which is probably due to all the overtime he’s been working. The overtime is now done, but it’s things like this that makes me hate the government all the more. If I’d been getting what’s so rightfully mine all along, the overtime wouldn’t be nearly as necessary. But you know our wonderful government; they’d rather give to other countries before they take care of their own. With all the things I’ve so hopelessly strived for in life, it’s going to be very hard to motivate myself. This is exactly the kind of thing God would make sure I failed to succeed with. Especially if I’m right about us being meant to spend most of our lives struggling. How many of my dreams/goals have I ever achieved? How many? But the fact that it’s money we’re talking about may help keep me going whenever I get discouraged along the way. If it were about changing people’s opinions about whatever, changing laws, or my appearance, then it’d be harder.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

The dog’s gone off for the day and so now I won’t be able to do things like make a cup of coffee in peace.

Tom said he saw two people in their 20s moving stuff in yesterday and that there was just one car over there. I’m surprised no one’s parked in the yard yet, but I doubt they’ll be a problem either way because God knows we’re almost out of here. I’m sure He’d rather wait till we get moved in someplace down there before he has someone sic their shit on us. Besides, by the time these people decide to let the neighborhood know they’ve arrived, we should be on our way out.

Tom’s still got a cold but is getting better. He cracked me up by telling me that a couple of nights ago when he crashed at 7:00, he woke up a little more than an hour later convinced that he was late for work. He said it took him 15 minutes to realize it was the evening.

We’re still on for giving notice on the 1st but aren’t sure if we’re leaving on the 15th or the 28th. I told him to let me know by the weekend because if it’s gonna be the 28th, we need to bomb. The spiders are appearing more often and bigger, of course.

I decided we should take the dressers. His is the shorter brown one and mine’s the tall white one. Except for a few scuffs and chips, they’re not half bad at all, and we could use them till we get something nicer. Tom agrees and said it wouldn’t be any biggie to move them. I’ll just get a new dresser for myself someday because I prefer long ones over tall ones. At that time I’ll give him this tall one. It’ll be perfect for him because it’s got less space up top for him to trash, and he’s tall so he can see the top easier.

Next week is when we’re going to try to get that damn check cashed. Tom still feels confident that it’s not only a good check, but that if it weren’t, we’d be able to sue for big bucks. Also, they’re a big company so they wouldn’t just close the account the check’s written on like I wondered. Then I guess we’ll get it cashed ok since God would never let us have big bucks.

We’re going to a city much like Phoenix, so right now, God’s blocking us from big bucks is the least of my worries, as opposed to Him either seeing that we lose everything or end up on the streets if He doesn’t sic neighbors like we had in Phoenix or at the duplex to provoke me so I can end up in jail. They couldn’t make me answer to any court calls, but if I was pushed into attacking some asshole, they could arrest me on the spot till Tom could bail me out. You can only push even the most tolerant person so far before they snap. I hope God would have the decency to continue to give us a break with the asshole neighbors, but until I see us have good neighbors elsewhere, I have to believe it’s just this house that’s protected somehow, be it by the horseshoe that was here before we moved in, and that as soon as we leave it, we’ll open ourselves right back up to the neighbor curse. That is unless the bamboos can fend them off for us. Whatever’s protected us from bad neighbors here is worthless at warding off the street noise and the barking.

I don’t know what I want to be next to more down there, a rental or a house that’s owned. Rentals can call for more troublemakers, but owners are certainly going to have dogs.

Sometimes I think we might be better off leaving the west altogether and heading east simply because I just get so sick of Western culture. I’m sick of the hear-me obsession, the dogs left outside round the clock to bark up a storm, the conservative, control-freaking bigots, etc.

Tinkerbell’s been sleeping under the bed or in the closet for many hours at a time lately. She goes home for drinks and a bite to eat periodically. She’s such an awesome pet. I wish she could live forever.

We had a cool snap where it slipped down into the low 60s, but now it’s back in the mid-70s.

If things went my way, we could use the check to get us furniture, but that’s not how it usually works, so I’m sure we’ll need to use the money for living expenses.

Jessie said that it’s terrible I’ll have to wait a year to see if I can get back on disability, and why is it so easy to get on welfare, but not disability? As I told her, it would be anything but easy for us to get on welfare. People don’t think white, childless people need to eat, too.

I made a promise to myself that if I didn’t get the benefits back, it’d be the absolute last time I’d try to make money other than by sweeping and give God a good laugh at my expense.

Same with any efforts to lose weight. This Chinese tea diet will be the last I’ll ever try if it doesn’t pan out. It’s got a money-back guarantee and is backed by 60 Minutes and Oprah. It at least looks more promising than anything else I’ve seen and a hell of a lot simpler because there’s no special diet, measuring or counting in any way. You just have two cups of this tea per day, and it’s not an appetite suppressant, but an actual fat killer. It’s a little pricey, though. I’m still going to watch what I eat and exercise, of course, but I’m willing to try this one last thing since I’m not sure I can ever influence my weight/metabolism. Influencing is highly based on visualization, and so I’m having trouble trying to figure out how to do it. Things that aren’t as tangible are harder for me to influence.

My eyes are doing well, but I still have my fuzzy moments. I can’t seem to focus them very well during the first hour of my day. Still, I refuse to wear those darn glasses!

Sunday, May 27, 2007

The new neighbors are being the perfect neighbors because we don’t have to live with them for long. They don’t even park in the yard along the side.

I’m still sometimes tempted to say “What the fuck? Let’s save money and take advantage of the pool/appliances we’d get by getting an apartment. I was never meant to be where I want to be anyway, and I know I’ll never be allowed to live in peace, so why not? I’m sure the choice won’t be ours in the end anyway.”

Wherever we end up, I’m not moving again till he’s at least 55!

I have my stereo blasting and I’m sitting right by one of the speakers yet I can still hear the assholes blasting by, and I still can’t believe no one does shit about it! Come on, God, have people start shooting these mother-fuckers, will ya? You’ve obviously got no problem with violence, so why not?

It wouldn’t deter the attention-getters. No, they’d gladly die in the name of getting attention. But it may finally encourage our twisted lawmakers to do something once and for all.

If I’ve hit upon a way to influence my weight, I wouldn’t know it with all this extra water I’m carrying, but I have set a spotting record. Tomorrow’s when my period’s due yet I still haven’t started spotting! It would be so nice if I could influence my period itself to get later and later each month till it finally disappeared altogether.

OLS continues to frustrate me with the hard work and restrictive sweeps, and now Webshots is irritating me too, posting pictures that have already been posted in previous years.

At least Netwinner’s still loads of fun. I’m now up to 71,140 points. They have this new multiplier promo that can multiply your wins 2x, 5x, 10x or 25x. So now there are more ways to win and more are promised to be on the way.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

I’ve got good news and bad news to report.

First of all, I called Paula yesterday to see what she’s getting for social security. She’s getting $790 a month from SSI, though if I ever could get back on it, which I doubt, I might get less than that in light of what Tom makes. I don’t believe it, but she said she’d pick me up a standard release of information form and mail it out to me. Tom and I both went to their site and were confused by what we read. They want you to be confused, though, because the more people they deter from getting benefits, the more money they have to give away to other countries. I guess in order to apply for SSI you have to have your records. I think in the end I’ll decide the effort of trying to figure it all out won’t be worth it. Especially if it’s just going to be for nothing. Meanwhile, Paula’s working at a warehouse in CT and got a letter saying they’re going to terminate her benefits in a year. Her kid’s gonna be 18 in a couple of years, so that’s probably part of why she’ll be kicked off. She says it’s ok, though. I never thought she was disabled, just slow and not very bright. In fact, she’s so dumb at times that she went and sent me a letter a week or so ago to the mailing company we had when we first came to this damn state. I guess her stuff got disorganized when she moved and she’s a real packrat that’s saved all my letters, so she grabbed one with the wrong return address to send it to. She hates the new place, she says, because there are a lot of kids. I could hear them screaming over the phone. I thought it was her TV at first.

Today we went to the Chinese place, then over to Rent-a-Center because they claimed online that they cash checks, holding the check until it clears. First I was pissed at Tom for not calling first, which he admits was his fault. Then I was pissed because Tom still doesn’t believe me when I say we’re not meant to have that money! And of course, I was utterly furious at God. All I could think was “We’re stuck here, we’re stuck here. We’ll never get out of this state, and maybe not even out of this shit house. And there goes my Claritin or the chance to get my sleep problem diagnosed. There goes my chance to have insurance too, and of course, there’s the cold and the snow to deal with each winter.”

Tom pointed out, though, that if I continue to be right about the check, we’d be delayed only a couple more months, not stuck here, till he can make enough money to equal the check’s amount. But once again I couldn’t help thinking that God doesn’t want me to have any of my dreams realized, even though California wouldn’t be as I dreamed it’d be. My dreams never included the poverty, the freeloaders, the noise, etc. So he pointed out the AARP he’s eligible for on his birthday, the fact that they’re back to doing overtime at work, the paid vacation he’d get if we stood till the end of July, etc. But we don’t want to stay any longer than we have to, so if by some miracle we can get the fucking thing cashed, we’re outa here!

He told me about the few people at work he thinks we may be able to trust to deposit the check into their accounts and then let us have the money if it clears (we’ll give them a few hundred for doing us the favor), and that we could still sue the company if the check was bad. Tom probably is right about the check being good. He would know these things. I just feel more and more certain we’re not meant to have the money, good check or not. This is the fourth time we’ve tried to cash the damn thing!

So we decided to start with this couple who runs a licensed daycare service from their home. They sound more trustworthy than this other guy who’s always broke and always asking if we managed to get the check cashed. Runner-up to them may be this guy who owns an acre of land on Shasta, and then Eddie, the guy who moved us in here.

Fortunately, Tom was smart enough not to give them a specific date at work. He just told them “this summer” we’re moving.

Anyway, I told him to talk to people at work, I’ll sign the check over to them, then that’s it! No matter what happens from there on out, I don’t want anything more to do with this check!!! And I don’t want a damn thing more to do with cash sweeps either. At least not until we can open an account elsewhere. I went through and deleted the prizes I don’t really want and or don’t think I could get much money from, and those that had small cash prizes. I figured there’d be no problems opening an account for $25,000 and up, not that I’d ever win that big. Fuck this pay-to-win bullshit, though! As soon as we get moved, everything’s going in his name. When I change the address on the Robo form, I’m changing the name too, which he says would be no problem, but if we can’t get the check cashed, then he’s going to have to file for a tax amendment since we’d only be paying for a check we never could cash. Right now Netwinner’s more important, being as cut and dry as it is. I’ve set a goal of at least a thousand points a day. Some days this can take all day, others it can take a couple of hours or less.

Tom was telling me that this guy at work would gladly be a reference for him when he’s looking for a new job, so that’s cool.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

I was too tired to finish updating last night, so let me start with the saddest news of all. Tinkerbell has a tumor under her arm. It really is such a bummer knowing the best rat we’ve ever had won’t make it throughout the summer. She hasn’t lost her energy yet, but I know it’s only a matter of time.

Jessie said she’s so sorry about Tinkerbell, knows what I’m going through, and is sure Tinkerbell is happy to be comforted by me. 

She also said she had to hand it to us for having the guts to up and move with no job/home. Yeah, but sometimes being brave and adventurous is what gets us in trouble! I’ll just be glad to know that this time around there’ll be more job opportunities and Unemployment checks to help get us started. Tom’s also thinking it’d be worth it to spend the money on a GPS device so we don’t waste gas looking for places while we’re getting to know the area.

Tom and I were debating which was the biggest mistake, Maricopa or Oregon. He says Maricopa, but I say Oregon was our biggest fuck-up.

Before I get more into that, Tom said he’s seen those same two people next door doing what almost everyone here does in the summer – barbecuing. Other than that, there are no cars or activity going on in the side yard, and Kim’s been the same. She usually doesn’t play music, but when she does, it continues to be the same old song. It’s weird.

We went to Fred’s after the fourth failed attempt to get the check cashed, and I got a couple of new sports bras, and a pair of dull-looking, but comfortable gray cotton shorts.

The weight/metabolism spell experiments are still inconclusive, but I’ve had a breakthrough with influencing my period to be a record two days late, and I didn’t start spotting till another record-breaking two days in advance. Before I couldn’t prevent spotting any closer than 4 days before it’d start.

I had been bummed out for a few days between Tinkerbell and the fact that the more he investigated rentals in the Sacramento area, the more the houses seemed unaffordable and that we’d be stuck having to play house with others all over again. Sure a townhouse or a duplex would be better than an apartment in a complex, but that would still be bad enough. It’s just the nature of shared structures. While I don’t expect to ever find a house that’s peaceful either, thanks to the car stereos and all the dogs left outdoors 24/7 that no one will do a damn thing about, I’d rather limit the noise sources to cars and dogs than go and add people’s footsteps, cabinets, doors, TVs and house stereos to the picture as well. If living with others is the only way to get started down there, so be it, but I sure hope we won’t have to, and Tom’s latest research has given me hope for that.

Here’s what’s pretty neat. When he was looking at smaller cities that are still big enough to have enough jobs available, yet more affordable housing on the outskirts of the city where it’s more ruralized, one of the most promising cities to come up was Merced, which means mercy in Spanish. When he first said Merced, my eyes bulged and I was like, “Oh my God, oh my God!” Then I reminded him of how he said that something was testing us to see how much we really wanted to get to Oregon, since this was where we broke down on our way up here, and I had said, “Or maybe something’s trying to tell us to stay out of Oregon.” Well, maybe it was saying neither! Maybe it was really saying, “Stop! Don’t go any further. This is it. This is where you should stay.”

Merced was beautiful with all its miles and miles of colorful oleanders, banana trees and palm trees. I remember wishing we could stay in a climate like that and thinking how much I’d miss the flowers and the palms. I’d love to live there! I don’t like the fact that it’s only 37% white and that there are tons of Mexicans down there, but I’m not nearly as worried about them as I would be if it were as full of blacks.

It would add another hour or two to the trip, but it’d be worth it. Where Sacramento is 253 miles from Klamath Falls, Merced is 347 miles. And instead of being 351 miles from L.A. as Sacramento would be, it’s just 249 miles. Still a day’s drive, but quicker to get to if I win a trip there, and there are lots of sweeps for trips to Southern Cal. If Kate Jackson ever does any more autograph signings at a convention down there, it sure would be closer, and of course, if I ever get to be an extra in a movie, that’d help, too. The more congested areas are from the Mexican border to north of L.A., so we’re up high enough to be above the crowds, but not so high as to be where it’s colder, more expensive, or further away from things. It’s about the same distance from the coast as Springfield was to the beach in Old Lyme, CT we’d go to, just over an hour. That beats being 2-3 hours inland like we are here, and the 6 we were in Arizona.

I’m going to study Merced to see if I can find some pulled wisdom teeth amongst all those damn tooth houses I hate so much. Still, a tooth house would be better than any shared place! I’ll check the satellite images some more. I’ve seen what appears to be a patchy quilt-like design surrounding the heart of the city, which tells me what I’ve heard to be the case; that it’s surrounded by farmland. This won’t tell me if someone has an affordable rental for us on a farm or even on just an acre or two, but it’ll give me a better idea of the population density and what the general scoop is down there.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

Today is one hot day! Very uncomfortable, too. It’s in the mid-80s and so Tom’s going to put the AC in tomorrow since we can’t have a place with normal windows. We’ve got the front window partially open and that’s it. If God didn’t have to go and tease us with money yet again, we could’ve raced our way out of here by now, but no. Instead, we may be stuck here throughout most of the summer, depending on the check. So Tom won’t be giving notice tomorrow till we know what the hell’s going on with this mother-fucking check I’m so close to tearing to shreds! They’ve been too busy at work for him to pull anyone aside to ask about depositing the check, and as I told him, he’s got to make the time so we can get the hell out of here! He says he will tomorrow.

From now on, each time we move, I’m not packing till the day before! I packed the mister and can’t find it, so I’m using a spray bottle to help keep me cool.

Tom said he still believes that while we might not be able to get a nice place, we could still get an adequate one. An adequate one would be a nice place after living in this dump! I tell ya, even the Phoenix house is a palace compared to this place. Either way, we’ll be destined to live like bums, always scraping pennies, always dealing with noise, for the rest of our lives.

I still worry about what health issues I’ll be hit with down there, though I’m more concerned with money and problem neighbors. Here it was my ear and ingrown toenail, down there it could be my pinky finger and my knee for all I know. There’s just no way to know what the bastard up there is going to do to me till I get down there. But I’m sure He’s got it all figured out by now.

I’m now just over 75,000 points on Netwinner.

[littlelisita]

I AM YOUR DISEASE

~anonymous

You know who I am; you’ve called me your friend

Wishes of misery and heartache I send

I want only to see that you’re brought to your knees

I’m the devil inside you, I am your disease.

I’ll invade all your thoughts; I’ll take hostage your soul

I’ll become your new master, in total control

I’ll maim your emotions; I’ll run the whole game

Till your entire existence is crippled with shame

When you call me I come, sometimes in disguise

Quite often I’ll take you by total surprise

But take you I will, and just as you’ve feared

I’ll want only to hurt you, with no mercy spared

If you have your own family, I’ll see it destroyed

I’ll steal every pleasure in life you’ve enjoyed

I’ll not only hurt you, I’ll kill if I please

I’m your worst living nightmare, I am your disease

I bring self-destruction, but still you can’t tell

I’ll sweep you through heaven then drop you in hell

I’ll chase you forever, wherever you go

And then when I catch you, you won’t even know

I’ll sometimes lay silent, just waiting to strike

What’s yours becomes mine, cause I take what I like

I’ll take all you own and I won’t care who sees

I’m your constant companion… I am your disease

If you have any honour, I’ll strip it away

You’ll lose all your hope and forget how to pray

I’ll leave you in darkness, while blindly you stare

I’ll reduce you to nothing, and won’t even care

So, don’t take for granted my powers sublime

I’ll bend and I’ll break you, time after time

I’ll crumble your world with the greatest of ease

I’m that madman inside you…I am your disease

But today I’m real angry…you want to know why?

I let all in recovery, entirely slip by

How did I lose you? Where did I go wrong?

One minute I had you…then next you were gone

You just can’t dismiss all the good times we’ve shared

When you were alone…wasn’t it I who appeared?

When you sold those possessions you knew you would need

Wasn’t I the first one who stepped in and agreed?

Now look at you bastards, you’re all thinking clear

You escaped with your lives when you found your way here

Only fools think they’re winners when admitting defeat

It’s what you must say when you’re claiming that seat

Go ahead and surrender, if that’s what you choose

But, I’m not giving up. cuz I can’t stand to lose

So stand in your groups and support hand in hand

Better choices will save you…leaving me to be damned

Well, be damned all you people seeking treatment each week

Be damned inner strength, however unique

Be damned all your sayings, be damned your clichés

Be damned every addict, who back to me strays

For I know it will happen, I’ve seen it before

Those who love misery will crawl back for more

So take comfort in knowing, I’m waiting right here

But next time around, you’d just better beware

You think that you’re stronger or smarter this time’

There isn’t a mountain or hill you can’t climb

Well if that’s what you’re thinking, you ain’t learned a thing

I’ll still knock you silly if you step back in my ring

But you say you’ve surrendered, so what can I do?

It’s so sad in a way; I had big plans for you

Creating your nightmare for me was a dream

I’m sure gonna miss you…we made quite a team

So please don’t forget me, I won’t forget you

I’ll stand by your side watching all that you do

I’m ready and waiting, so call if you please

I won’t let you forget me…I am your disease

[wynnyfryd]

Eddie’s casually leaning against the rails on the edge of the dance floor, savoring his second whiskey on the rocks and scanning the crowd for fresh meat when suddenly there’s a face he’s never seen before taking up his entire field of view.

The guy sways drunkenly into his space, grabbing the lapels of his vest for balance, and before Eddie can even get the ‘what the fuck?’ out of his mouth, pretty brown eyes are blinking up at him and the guy is slurring, “Hey. Hey, um. You’re really cute, do you wanna kiss?”

And Eddie laughs softly, blinks back at him, lazy and syrupy and shrugs, “Yeah, okay, cutie.”

The kiss is like, surprisingly fucking excellent coming from a guy who seems two sips of beer away from stumbling headfirst into a toilet. Eddie sighs into his mouth as their tongues touch, and it’s messy and wet and he tastes like rum and coconut and maraschino cherries.

Drunken Cutie pulls back after a moment, licks his lips with his eyes still closed, a sated little smile lighting up his face. Then he pats Eddie’s chest and hums and says, “That was… mmmm, really great, thank you.”

And then he’s gone.

He’s just…

Like, okay. It’s not like Eddie expected the guy to come back up to him that night and ask him out or give him his number or anything (he’d pinched Eddie’s cheek like a doting grandmother after he finished shoving his tongue down Eddie’s throat, so. Ya know. Hardly seemed capable of conversation), but he does expect to at least see him again. Run into him in the crowd the next weekend or something.

And nothing.

Zip. Nada.

Eddie’s starting to wonder if the good whiskey he sprang for that night made him conjure some blond twink hallucination as a panacea for his pathetic gay dry spell. Whoever Blondie is, he’s a fucking ghost. A sexy, sexy ghost, and Jesus, how is Eddie down this bad for a boy who may or may not exist?

Three weeks later, Eddie spots that swoop of caramel candy hair and goes marching across the bar like he’s about to pick a fight, grabs the poor, startled guy by the wrist and drags him out to the smoker’s patio without so much as a hello, and yeah, he’s like, maybe being a bit of a psycho right now, but whatever. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about those gorgeous eyelashes or that stupid pink pretty mouth for almost a month now and he still doesn’t even know the guy’s name.

“Alright, what the fuck?” Eddie demands as he whirls around and frowns with his arms folded over his chest.

“Me ‘what the fuck?’ What the fuck yourself!” the guy shouts, hands gesturing all over the place before landing on his cocked hips in a sassy little mom pose that screams explain yourself.

“Do you seriously not remember making out with me last time you were here? And then, like, vanishing into thin air?”

And Blondie goes adorably red at that statement for a moment before he clears his throat and collects himself. “Gonna be honest with you, babe, I don’t even remember seeing you last time I was here. I was pretty wasted that night.”

He pauses, eyes raking down Eddie’s face, his chest, his thighs, all the way to his heavy black boots and back up. “Having said that…”

He licks his lips, catches the bottom one between his teeth as he grins. Leers. Looks like he wants to eat Eddie alive. “Hmm. Yeah, I’m— I’m not mad about it,” and he takes a step forward, getting into Eddie’s space, just like before only sober and sure-footed this time around, and he practically purrs when he sweeps a lock of Eddie’s hair behind his ear and asks, “Think I could get a do-over?”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie’s not that easy, is he? Is he?

He totally is.

[misslavenderlady]

The Lost Boys x Chubby Fem!Reader Headcanons 💕

Big thank you to @wowisksksj for this request! As a chubby lady myself, I was very happy to do this and I hope I made it truly special!

Enjoy~!

Now it’s no surprise that being immortal vampires, the boys have seen quite the variety of body types and shapes. Humans change their minds on what they think is “attractive” so fast, and they find that to be silly. There’s beauty in every kind of body.

The flings and crushes they have all look incredibly different from one another. It’s all a matter of who they’re drawn to at the moment, and what kind of personality they have to keep them wanting more.

So yes, they find bigger women to be quite stunning. They'll stare in awe without any shame, totally entranced by the beauty walking down the boardwalk. If they see something they want, they'll get it~

When they say “bigger”, they don’t just mean hourglass figures with small waists, large breasts, and an ass (though they do like that too). You could be apple-shaped, pear-shaped, have a small cup size, not much in the back, or quite a bit of belly in the front. They’re well aware that everyone isn’t going to look the same, and they’re totally fine with it. 

The boys are all incredibly handsome men with amazing bodies. They know they have pretty privilege and use it well to woo whatever lady they have their eye on. 

If you're more shy and worried they're just trying to tease or play a mean prank by asking you out (cough totally not speaking from experience cough), they'll subtly use their powers to ease your mind and enjoy the attention they give you. 

If you're more confident, then they boost your ego as high as it'll go. Compliments and flirty touches galore. You live for the attention, and they're more than happy to give it. 

They're a pack so if one of them finds you beautiful, they're all drawn to you. Even if you prefer one boy over the others, you might as well accept the fact that you're pretty much gonna date them all. That's not a problem though. More love to go around. 

Your own personal hype squad! They thrive on making you feel good about yourself. Your joy is their joy, so they will shower you with compliments without even having to be asked. 

They're supportive whether you're more prone to covering up or flaunting some skin. David with his two coats totally understands the former while Dwayne, Paul, and Marko are more for the latter. Either way, they'll be sure to tell you how stunning you look in your outfit (and how it would look even better on your bedroom floor~)

The boys are already very touchy-feely with one another, but they'd be even more handsy with you. An arm around your waist here, a subtle grab at your ass there, they just can't keep their hands off their beautiful lady. 

Each boy has their own unique way of appreciating you and your body. 

David likes putting you in front of mirrors. Even if his own reflection isn't there he'll stand behind you and whisper sweet nothings about the goddess he sees before him. He'll trace his gloved fingers over every curve and make it clear he finds you ravishing. 

Paul loves taking pictures of you. You're his muse and he loves setting you up in stunning poses so he can capture your best angles. He'll praise and cheer you on the whole time, getting you to smile widely. "That's it, sugar! Show off for the camera! You're so hot". He also has a few telescope keychain pictures of you in your birthday suit for his eyes only~

Marko is just as upset as you that plus-size fashion is such a joke. If you're tired of cold shoulder tops and endless floral prints, he offers to be your personal stylist. He knows how to sew, so all it takes is a few measurements from you to make exactly what you want. He knows just how to make the wardrobe of your dreams and help you feel like a fashion icon. 

Dwayne will sweep you off your feet-LITERALLY. If you worry about your weight and size, he'll immediately silence those thoughts by picking you up in his arms. No matter what you're doing or where you are, he'll take the opportunity to lift you up. Sometimes he'll even do it with one hand or lift you onto his shoulders. It always surprises you. If you start worrying about hurting him, he'll shush you and say "you feel like a kitten to me"

They proudly show you off in public. Usually, you're right in the middle of all of them, giggling while holding onto them. Sometimes other girls will give you a thumbs up and an encouraging smile as if to say "you go, girl!"

If anyone is rude to you in any way, they are on the boys' hit list. Anyone is fair game. Rude catcallers on the sidewalk, stuck-up workers at department stores, restaurant-goers who comment on what you order, ANYONE. Even if you don't hear the mean things, they do. And they'll make sure nobody bothers their lady. 

They make a show of loving every single part of your body. Stretch marks are caressed, curves are worshiped and rolls are kissed. They have all the time in the world and will take as long as they please to map out your beautiful body. 

If you like having sex, then be prepared to get your goddamn world rocked. They can lift you into their arms with no issue and have plenty of energy to fuck all night long. They each have their own style of love-making, but all equally ravish you (Paul and Marko especially love the saying "more cushion for the pushin'")

Each boy has their own favorite body part. 

David loves to take your face in his hands and stroke your soft cheeks while making you gaze into his eyes. It lets him appreciate what he’s claimed as his own.

Dwayne adores your thighs and hips. He’ll either rest his head on your lap while spending time with you or grab onto your sides to pull you in close for a kiss. 

Paul is a sucker for your breasts. No matter what they look like, he’s drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He cannot and will not keep his hands off of them. He may even offer to get you a mesh shirt of your own to show off your goods more.

Marko is an ass man. He has no shame. He’ll smack your behind at any goddamn chance he gets. If you’re bending over to pick something up, he’s going in for the kill. If you’re ever on a date with him, his hand is always in your back pocket, giving you a squeeze.

Since you’re not the same size as the boys, you feel sad about not being able to wear their jackets like other girls with their boyfriends. So to make it up to you, the boys each pitch in to help make your own custom jacket. They all add their own flair to it to show you’re their girl. They’ll even add patches with their initials or have the words “Lost Girl” written on the back. 

They’ll also indulge you in wearing those cheesy couples t-shirts from the shops on the boardwalk. The ones that say “If found, return to Y/N” and “I am Y/N”.

If there’s ever a day you’re feeling self-conscious about your body, they’re by your side to help cheer you up. No matter what it is that made you feel such a way, the boys will do anything to put a smile on your face again. They would never make you feel ugly or unwanted. They may be vampires, but they’re not monsters.