#almost 2 years on t and my period came back

[perilegs]

oh my fucking god i forgot how much cramps suck

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Maybe, Baby?

Summary: You and Frankie aren't trying for a baby just yet, but when your weird symptoms start to throw your body for a loop, you start to wonder if you actually might be pregnant

Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap, silly gooses), creampie, praise kink, size kink (if u squint), unintentional breeding kink (lmaoooo, it's me, sorry not sorry), birth control/family planning, pregnancy (or maybe not? part 2 maybe? hehe) symptoms, Frankie and reader mention being closer to 30 than 16 (turns out when you're an adult, it's not a teen pregnancy anymore), reader has hair that can be played with, Frankie being the sweetest husband alive (all the gold stars for him), Frankie is so excited to be a dad that I just may pass away

A/N: I know y'all voted for me to finish chapter 20 but i lied (I'm so sorry), but I wrote this in a day and husband Frankie was really speaking to me on this one 😭 This one is brought to you by my raging baby fever and perhaps some real life inspiration WHOOPS, art imitating life on this one ig 💀 Poorly beta'd bc that's how I roll!!!

Ever since getting off birth control a few months ago, your body had felt… different. 

While you were glad you had made the change for yourself, you still found yourself shocked every month when a new sort of symptom decided to appear at some point in your cycle that you had never dealt with before- acne in new places, weird cramps, and crazy mood swings that showed up out of nowhere before your period were just a few of the things you were learning to manage as you figured out your body post birth control. 

Another symptom you hadn’t expected was that now, you were insatiably horny. 

All the time. 

While Frankie had been more supportive and caring in helping you deal with all of your not so pleasant symptoms than you could have hoped for, he was also more than happy to help you with your newly found positive one, too. 

The only problem was, after so many years of not having to worry about the consequences of your sex life on birth control, you and Frankie were finding it very hard to adjust to be more… careful. 

As you got hornier and hornier, the box of condoms that Frankie had bought after you stopped taking the pill had been seeing less and less use, and to be honest, hadn’t really seen the light of day from the back of his nightstand drawer in about a month an a half- and if you were being even more honest, on top of that, Frankie’s pull out game was almost nowhere to be found. 

You both knew that you wanted a family in the future- That was a part of your reason for getting off birth control to begin with. The two of you had agreed to hold off at least for a little longer to try and get your life more in order before bringing a baby into it, but with with your new lack of protection when it came to sex, and constant horniness around the clock, you both were beginning to have a feeling that that your agreed upon timeline for having a baby might be harder for you to maintain that you thought. 

Especially when you found yourself morphing into an unspeakably horny monster when you were ovulating. 

So little did you realize, that as you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom as the two of you were getting ready for bed and you caught a glimpse in the mirror of Frankie, stripping out of his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his boxers as he searched around in your dresser for pajamas, that was the reason you nearly spit out your entire mouthful of toothpaste to try and get a mouthful of something else. 

You couldn’t help but ogle at your husband's broad body and freckled tan skin, muscles flexing as he shuffled through your drawers, pulling out an old, worn gray t-shirt and tugging it over his head, running his hand through his messy, curly hair before searching for his pajama bottoms.

At this point, you had honestly braced yourself on the edge of the bathroom counter to keep yourself from falling over at how mouth-watering he looked, already feeling the wetness beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear at the thought of wanting to rip his clothes off just as fast as he had put them on. 

Letting out a yawn, Frankie raised his hands above his head so a sliver of his soft belly peaked out between his waistband and shirt hem before making his way into the bathroom, sleepily padding along the tile floor until his body was behind yours, chest flushed against your back and arms wrapped around your waist. Even more prevalent, his bulge pressed against your ass, making the wet spot in your underwear grow damper by the second. 

“You ready for bed, querida?” Frankie cooed, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder and smiling at your reflections in the mirror. 

While you were absolutely ready to get into bed, sleeping was not going to be your activity of choice.  

“I think that maybe…” You paused, turning around to face Frankie, his body caging yours against the counter, palms splayed flat on either side of your hips, looking down at you with his sweet, brown eyes, “I think that maybe we should do something else before we go to sleep.” 

“Something else, huh?” Frankie smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as your hands began to run up and down his arms, slightly squeezing the muscles of his biceps as your fingers crept under the fabric of his shirt sleeves. “And what might that something else be, Hermosa?” 

“You know exactly what it is, Fransisco. You expect me to watch you just roam around shirtless in our bedroom and not get all hot and bothered? God, you’re so fucking hot.” You moaned, letting your hands run up his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him in for a long, electric kiss. 

“Damn, what’s gotten into you, babe?” Frankie chuckled, trying his best not to blush at your comment, sliding his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“I don’t- Fuck, I don’t know, I just know that if you don’t fuck me right this second, I think I’m gonna explode.” 

While your statement may have had a flair for the dramatic, it was just about as close to the God’s honest truth as you could get- You were so worked up, you felt practically feral, the ache in your core so strong that you really did feel like you were on the verge of implosion. 

Before you even gave Frankie time to respond, your lips were crashing into his with a ferocious intensity, your hands grabbing fistfulls of his t-shirt as you stumbled back towards your bedroom, bodies bumping and bouncing against the walls and door frames, mouths never parting as the back of Frankie’s knees finally hit the mattress, forcing him to fall backwards onto the bed. 

Crawling overtop of him, you were already straddled over his hips, grinding your bottom half on the bulge growing in his pajamas as your hands crept under the hem of his t-shirt, running along the tanned, soft skin of his chest, making him let out a low groan that rumbled in his throat. 

Frantically shuffling himself further onto the bed, Frankie’s hands dug into your hips and over your ass as your hands slid down from his chest to his waistband, fingers tugging at the elastic to shuffle his bottoms and boxers down his legs, quickly followed by your own, dropping to a crumpled pile on the floor. 

Feeling your fingers wrap around his cock, already painfully hard, you swirled the precum leaking from his tip with your thumb before dragging your hand up and down his length, leaving Frankie sitting up in surprise while he watched you begin to hover over him, dragging his dick through your folds. 

“Hermosa, are you sure you don’t need me to-” But before Frankie could finish the rest of his protest to make sure you were ready to take him, you were already sinking down onto him, whimpering at the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness, followed by the ragged moan escaping Frankie’s lips. 

“Oh fuck… Nuh uh, Frankie. I need to feel you, baby. Needed to feel you inside me.” You whined, taking Frankie cock inch by inch until he had bottomed out inside you, his tip kissing your cervix, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure. 

Normally with Frankie’s size, you would have needed to warm you up first, but with how wet and worked up you already were, you were able to take him with ease, desperate to feel him buried deep inside you. 

“Jesus fucking christ, queirda, you’re so fucking wet. Fuck, baby.” Frankie moaned, feeling you begin to slide up and down his length, coating him with your arousal with each swirl of your hips. 

Arching your back, you jutted your hips forward, bracing your hands on Frankie’s strong thighs, circling your bottom half against his, whimpering at his fullness and the hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your clit, selfishly already longing to chase your own high to ease the ache that had been burning in your core. 

“Fuck, Frankie, you feel so good. Feel so fucking full with you in me.” You whimpered, bouncing even harder and faster on Frankie’s cock, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping his and wetness dripping from your heat coating the walls of your bedroom. 

“Yeah? This what you wanted, pretty girl? Wanted me to stretch this pretty little pussy out and fill you up?” Frankie groaned, gritting his teeth as he began to jut his hips up into yours as you rode him, the added depth of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure. 

And for as fucking good as it felt, the horny monster you had morphed into had you greedily craving more- to have Frankie stretch you open in a way that had you seeing stars, so much that you could still feel the next day, long after the two of you were finished. 

“I-I want more, p-please, baby. Fuck- Fuck me harder, Fransisco.” You cried, your sweet voice whimpering his full name turning him almost as feral as you were, letting out a low growl as he grabbed you by your hips, flipping you so that your back hit the mattress and he was caging his broad body over yours. 

Practically ripping the t-shirt still covering your upper half off your body, Frankie dove face first between your breasts, groping one while hungrily sucking at the other, flicking your pebbled nipple with his tongue, his free hand reaching down to line his cock back up with your entrance, sliding back in to your aching core with ease. 

Frankie let himself sink all the way back in, filling you to the brim before hooking his arms around your knees, pressing your legs against your stomach, smirking to himself at the ragged moan you let out as the new angle opened you up even further. 

“You want me to fuck you harder, Hermosa?” Frankie mewled, slowly dragging his length out of your heat, looking down to see your shiny slick soaking his cock before looking back at you and the wrecked expression plastered across your face, frantically nodding in desperation. “Tell me how badly you want it, sweet girl.” 

“Fuck, I need you so bad, Fransisco, please.” You begged, damn near close to tears with how deeply you needed to feel Frankie ease the emptiness inside you. “Please, baby, I- oh fuck-”  

Before you could even finish the rest of your plea, your breath was already hitched in the back of your throat as Frankie began to pound into you at a relentless pace, tightening his grip around your thighs while he pressed them closer to your chest, grunting with each rut of his hips into yours. 

“This what you want, querida? Meirda- so fucking wet and tight, baby girl. You feel so fucking good, holy fuck.” 

It didn’t take long for the all too familiar tingle at the base of your spine to start spreading through your body like a wildfire as Frankie continued to slam into your g-spot, making you chant his name like a prayer, your brain at a loss for any other words than “Fuck, Fransisco.” 

And as if you already weren’t close enough, when Frankie reached down to thumb at your clit, rubbing in relentless circles against your sensitive nub, you knew you were a fucking goner. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. Cum for me, baby. Want that- oh fuck- want that prefect pussy to fucking soak me.” Frankie groaned, feverishly pounding into you, desperate to feel you come undone for him giving him long enough to fight off his own high that was rapidly building in the pit of his stomach. 

A few more thrusts were all it took to have the coil snapping in your belly, crying out Frankie’s name as you came, orgasm ripping through your body with a blinding intensity, eyes scrunching shut and jaw hanging open while pleasure and euphoria flowed through every ounce of you. 

Still blissed out and wrecked out of your mind, your eyes shot open as Frankie’s mouth crashed into yours, swallowing your whimpers and moans in a messy dance of tongues and teeth. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum. Jesus fuck-  fuck, I’m close too, baby. W-where do you want me, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, barley holding on long enough for you to answer, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as his hips began to stutter, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow with every ounce of self control he had left. 

Still barley coherent enough to form a sentence, your brain blurted out the only thing you could think of, and the only thing that you really wanted in the moment. 

“Inside, Fransisco. Fuck, cum inside me, baby.” 

That alone was almost enough to send Frankie over the edge, letting out a long, low groan, sloppily rutting into you as his brain went blank alongside yours, starting to babble incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck- you want me to fill you up, queirda? Fuck, I’ll fucking fill you up so good you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Oh fuck, shit baby, fuck, oh I’m gonnaahhhhhh-“ 

Just like that, Frankie took one last thrust, spilling deep inside you, coating your walls with his spend as his body slumped into yours, the pair of your chests rising and falling in sync as you both came back down to earth. 

“Jesus Christ… Holy fuck, Frankie.” You giggled quietly to yourself, blissfully filled with post orgasm ecstasy as your husband carefully pulled himself out before rolling over next to you on the bed, pulling you close against his chest. 

“Fuck me, Hermosa, holy shit.” Frankie chuckled, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead, tracing small circles on your back as he held you, heat radiating off of each other's sweat-ridden bodies. “God, I love you. We should probably get you cleaned up. You wanna shower?” He asked, smirking as your face lit up at his nearly rhetorical question. 

“Only if you’re up for round 2, Morales.”   

“My eyes are up here, Fransisco.” 

“Hmmm? What did you say?” 

“Exactly my point. Can you stop looking with your man eyes and look with your normal, helpful people eyes to help me decide on a dress for Benny and Victoria’s wedding?” You sighed, laughing to yourself as you raised an eyebrow at Frankie, his gaze still fixed on your chest. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be helpful.” Frankie huffed, overdramatically rolling his eyes at you, playfully throwing his hands up in defense as he leaned back against the dressing room door, looking you up and down in one of the cute floral dresses you had picked to try on for your friends’ upcoming wedding. “It’s just that… Nevermind.” 

“It’s just that what, Frank?” You asked tilting your head in confusion at your husband as his eyes traveled back to your breasts, furled look in his brow like he was really staring there to prove a point. 

“It’s just that- Baby, I don’t know if it’s just the dress or what, but your boobs look huge. Like, they always look good, believe me, but like… Whew.” Frankie whistled, practically shaking his head in disbelief at how good you looked. 

“Really?” You asked, turning around to face the mirror in the dressing room, gently cupping your breasts, grimacing as you held them in your hands. “Yeah, I guess they do… Honestly, I was gonna complain about how sore they’ve been all day. I wonder if maybe my period is just coming early?” 

“Maybe? You did ride me pretty hard the last couple nights and put on a good show, so maybe they hurt from all that bouncing and-” 

“Frankie! We are in public!” You playfully scolded, giving him a flimsy slap to the chest to cut off the rest of his thought, the two of you quietly giggling to yourselves and trying to “Shhhh” each other from drawing too much attention to your dressing room stall. “The dress, you goofball, yes or no? Sooner we pick, the sooner we can go get food, because your wife is starving.” 

“I vote yes on the dress. You look beautiful in it, querida.” Frankie smiled, stepping behind you to press a kiss on the side of your head. 

“You just like it because it makes my boobs look huge.” 

“What? Can you blame me for wanting to stare at my gorgeous wife’s boobs all night?” 

“God, you are ridiculous, Fransisco. Fine, boob dress wins. Now let’s get out of here and go get some food before you get stuck in a titty trance and I die of hunger.” 

While the rest of your Saturday was spent enjoying the delicious Mexican food that you had picked up on the way home and a much needed night in on the couch with Frankie, there was a tiny part of your brain that couldn’t seem to shake his comment from earlier about how big your boobs looked. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t agree with him, because truth be told, they felt huge, too. They had been sore since you had woken up this morning, and while you had chalked it up to what you and Frankie had been up to the past few nights, or bad PMS symptoms, there was still just something about you that felt off. 

Later that night, during your movie marathon, you had paused whatever new action movie Frankie had been begging to watch since it had popped up on Netflix a few days ago for a popcorn refill. 

While Frankie meandered around the kitchen waiting for the next bag of popcorn to finish popping, you stayed curled up with your blanket in your corner of the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, until a sharp twinge began to cramp in your lower stomach. The feeling took you by surprise, digging your fingers into your side to try and ease the dull and achy sensation as your face scrunched in confusion, wondering why in the world you had what felt like period cramps in your belly. 

“Hey, you okay, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, returning with popcorn in hand, his face painted with concern to see the pained look scrunched between your brow as you curled deeper into the couch. 

“Oh, y-yeah, I’m fine. I just um, I just had a weird cramp I guess. Probably just ate all that popcorn too fast.” You replied, trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to convince Frankie that you were overthinking whatever mystery symptoms had just flashed through your lower half. 

“Here, lemme just set this popcorn down and then I can rub your back while we finish the movie, okay?” Frankie smiled softly, setting down the bowl on the coffee table before crawling back under the sea of blankets on the couch with you, laying your head against his thigh like a pillow while his hand traced up and down along the small of your back. 

“Thanks, Frankie.” You whispered quietly, taking a few deep breaths as the familiar warmth of your husband’s palm worked up and down the worn fabric of his shirt that you had put on earlier. 

“Of course, baby. If you need anything else, just let me know, okay? Just promise me you’ll take it easy on the popcorn if you have any more there, Killer.” 

The two of you laughed quietly as Frankie leaned down to press a soft kiss into your messy hair laid across his lap before picking up the remote to let the rest of the movie play as your eyelids began to get heavier and heavier as you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

“What’s inside this box?” 

“Open it up and find out! It’s a surprise for you!” 

“Okay? Huh, why is it just a pregnancy test in there?” 

“It’s yours! Congratulations! You’re having a baby!” 

“Ahhhhh!” You shrieked, panting as you woke from a cold sweat, shooting up from the couch. “What the fuck…” You whispered to yourself, coming to and realizing that you were now awake and had only been dreaming moments before this. Running your hands over your face, you blinked a few times to be greeted by the dim light of the TV still flickering in the background, Frankie sprawled out and snoring by your side where the two of you must have fallen asleep on the couch during the movie. 

“What a weird fucking dream…” You sighed to yourself, shaking your head as you quietly pushed yourself off the couch to stumble to the bathroom, pulling your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to check what ungodly hour of the night it had to be since the two of you had crashed on the couch. 

2:07 A.M. 

You let out a low grumble, pushing your sweatpants down to your ankles as you sat down to pee, blinking your eyes open wider to look through the notifications piled on top of each other on your lockscreen. Mindlessly swiping through a few junk emails and text messages from group chats, one notification in particular caught your eye, rousing you from your half awake state. 

“Feeling down? As you begin your Luteal Phase of your cycle, it’s normal to be less cheerful compared to last week when you were Ovulating! Click to track your cycle symptoms for today!” 

Oh shit.  

You could feel your heart beginning to race as you opened up the app, scrolling to the calendar tracker for the month. Swiping through the days, it didn’t take you long to realize that despite all of your weird symptoms you had been chalking up to PMS, you were almost two weeks away from starting your period. Frantically scrolling backwards, you began to try and rack your brain of all of the times in the past week that you had sex with Frankie while you would have been ovulating, and out of that number, how many times he hadn’t finished inside you, let alone even attempt to pull out. 

And that number was a big, fat zero. 

That’s when it hit you like a fucking freight train- You weren’t PMS-ing.

More than likely, you were pregnant. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, your voice trembling and heart pounding as you buried your face in your trembling hands, your mind flooding with a million different thoughts all at once. 

How could you not remember that you were ovulating? Would Frankie be upset? The two of you weren’t even trying for kids right now. Would you be a good Mom? What were you even going to need to do to prepare? Your house was starting to get small for just you and Frankie, let alone a baby. How were you going to find a new place to live in 9 months? And get a new car? How were you- 

“Baby, you good in there?” Frankie groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stumbled into the bathroom, letting out a yawn as he opened the door, bright light flooding into the hallway and revealing the sobbing mess you had become, still pants down, hunched over the toilet. 

“Woah, hey, hey, hey. Baby, baby, what’s going on? Talk to me, Hermosa. Are you okay? What happened?” You could feel Frankie’s demeanor immediately switch as soon as he saw you in the bathroom, instantly dropping to his knees by your side, his hands gently grabbing your face to shift your gaze towards him, carefully swiping his thumb to dry the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks. 

“Frankie, I- I- Fuck.” You stuttered, gulping hard as you tried to catch your breath, fighting back your nervous sobs as you locked eyes with Frankie, wondering how in the world you were ever about to brace him for the news you were about to tell him. 

“Hermosa, what is it? Please, tell me baby, what’s wrong?” Frankie pleaded, softly squeezing your face in reassurance as he waited for your response. 

You took a few more deep breaths, composing yourself enough to at least try to get a coherent thought out, swallowing hard as the words left your mouth. 

“Frankie, I-, Frankie, I think- I think I’m pregnant.” 

Frankie’s eyes went wide, his jaw practically hanging open as he tried to process what you had just told him, wondering if he hadn’t heard you right in his groggy state. 

“W-what?” 

“I think I might be pregnant, Frankie.” 

Before you could even bear the thought of looking at his face again, filled with fear that it would be a look of shock and disappointment, you buried your face in your hands again, fighting with everything in you not to cry and keep your composure. 

Frankie sat quietly for a moment, his hand covering up the gaping hole his jaw had made as it nearly hit the floor, shaking his head in disbelief before wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling your hands to look at him. 

“R-really? You- fuck- You really think you’re pregnant?” 

As your eyes met his, you couldn’t believe the look on your husbands face- Not only was Frankie practically grinning from ear to ear, the sweet brown of his puppy dog eyes were welling with happy tears of their own, waiting on your every word as if he still didn’t believe what he was hearing. Silently, you began to slowly nod your head, biting down on your tongue, your heart feeling like it was about to shoot out of your chest. 

“You’re...y-you’re not upset?” You stammered, sitting up a little taller at Frankie’s reaction. 

“Upset? Hermosa, why in the world would I ever be upset?” Frankie laughed quietly, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as his other hand cupped your jaw. “Querida… There’s nothing more I want on this earth than to have a family. And-fuck- The fact that it gets to be with you? That you might give me a family? How could I ever be upset about that? 

“Well it’s not like we were really trying for a baby, Frank. We said another year or two. With the house and money -” 

“Hey. We’ll figure it all out, okay? I promise, we’ll be more than okay.” Frankie smiled, his goofy grin still stretched wide between his cheeks, finally easing some of your worry. 

“I don’t even feel like I’m old enough to have a kid. I feel like I need to call up MTV to tell them I’ll be on the next season of 16 and Pregnant.” The two of you snorted, shaking your heads in awestruck disbelief that a stupid joke about a reality TV show could soon become your reality. 

“Well considering we’re married, have a house, and most importantly, are much closer to 30 than we are 16, I think they may have a hard time pitching the show “Married Couple Has a Baby”.” Frankie teased, giving you a playful nudge as the two of you laughed, giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before trying to dig into details. “Did- Did you take a test? How long have you known?”

“No, I don’t know for sure yet, Frank. It’s… It’s just a feeling, I guess. But the huge, sore boobs, weird, period-like cramps and the fact that we really haven’t been the most careful are all pretty good clues.” 

“Well, I mean, I don’t know, we’ve tried to be care-” 

Before Frankie could even finish the rest of his thought, you were already giving him the sassiest look you could muster in your overwhelmed and sleepy state, making the two of you laugh again he let out a sigh of defeat. 

“Okay, yeah, we really haven’t been that careful at all. Sweetie, listen, I- I know it’s not what we had planned, but… I mean, if you are pregnant…” Frankie paused, smiling at your stomach as he gently place a hand over your belly, tears welling in his chocolate brown eyes, “Baby, I would be so excited. Nervous as hell, but so fucking excited.” 

“Me too.” You sniffed, looking down at Frankie’s palm splayed across your stomach, heart swelling at the thought of Frankie being dad, thinking of how sweet and caring and perfect he’d be as you grew your little family together. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled Frankie in close, letting out a shaky sigh, whispering your words through happy tears. 

“I love you so much, Frankie.” 

“I love you so much too, Hermosa. More than anything.” 

For the sake of Frankie’s shoulder, you pulled away to wipe your tears to keep from soaking your husband’s shirt, quietly laughing to yourself at the fact that this whole time you had been talking to Frankie, you had still been pantsless, hunched over the toilet. 

“It probably would have been way more romantic to tell you all of this not at 2:30 in the morning, pantsless and hunched over the toilet like a little gremlin.” You snorted, Frankie following suit as he shook his head, running his hand through the sleepy curls of your hair. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, mi amor. C’mon, let’s get you up to bed.” 

As the two of you sleepily trotted your way upstairs, curling together under the warmth of your comforter with Frankie’s chest pressed against your back, you couldn’t help but smile as his arm draped over your stomach, hand resting on your belly while his thumb traced soft circles on your skin, imagining what it would be like if a few months from now if you really were getting ready to add another member to your family. 

The next morning, as the sunrise began to spill through your curtains, casting bright orange and pink shadows on your bedroom walls, you couldn’t help but stir as the familiar scent and warmth of Frankie’s body was missing from his side of the bed.

 As you sat up in the sea of blankets and comforters, softly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you saw Frankie’s frame quietly sneaking through the bedroom door, fresh mug of coffee and bag of breakfast in hand with a stupid smile plastered across his face as he was greeted with your barely awake grin. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” Frankie cooed, setting down the coffee and breakfast down on your nightstand as he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, pressing a tender kiss into the sleep-ridden ends of your hair before wrapping his arms around you in a long embrace. 

“Good morning, handsome.” You yawned, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a little grunt and laying your head on Frankie’s shoulder. “What’s all this for?” You asked, gesturing towards the coffee and oversized McDonald’s bag, assuming it was the reason for Frankie’s absence when you woke up. 

“I- I don’t know, I uh- I was just really excited when I got up this morning. It was early, and I didn’t wanna wake you up, so I made a trip to CVS to buy some pregnancy tests for you and figured I’d pick up breakfast on the way home.” Frankie smiled sheepishly, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, brushing past his untamed morning curls. “I know- I know you can’t really take the tests yet- I spent a lot of time reading the boxes in the store and wasn’t really sure what the best one was to take, so I got like, 4 different ones for when it's time.” 

“God, you’re so sweet. You’re the best, you know that? It’s about to be a long week of waiting before I can take one of those. Do you- fuck, Frankie, do you think it could really be positive?” You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes again as you smiled up at your husband, already beaming back at you, picturing the two pink lines showing up on all of the tests he had bought for you. 

“Maybe, if we’re lucky.” He smirked, gently cupping your face, swiping his thumb across your face. “But if it’s not, then maybe… Maybe we start trying for a positive one on purpose.” 

“R-really?” You grinned, biting down on your lip in excitement. 

“Really, really.” Frankie replied, bringing his lips to yours in a long, slow kiss, soaking in the sweet taste of you on his tongue. “And maybe…” 

“Maybe, what, Fransisco?” You giggled, bringing your mouth back to his in a sweet and sloppy kiss. 

“Maybe…. We start trying right now, ya know, just to be sure. Wouldn’t want all those pregnancy tests to go to waste.”

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @amyispxnk @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

[cinematicnomad]

cinematicnomad's steddie fic recs

i've been reading a lot of stranger things steddie fics over the past 2 months so i've decided it's time for me to make one of my requisite fic reclists, both for myself, and for anyone else interested. here's my usual reminder that i prefer lengthy fics, and that i am also a sucker for canon divergent fics (which basically all of these are bc eddie is alive post s4 obviously unless it's a time loop fic—if i tag a fic as "canon divergent eddie lives", assume this means the fic is compliant through the end of s4 except for eddie's death) and happy endings. all these fics are complete, though it's possible that if the fic is part of a series the series may not be complete. i will try to always add appropriate tags!

T = teen M = mature Ex = explicit NR = not rated

bracing for impact by writersagainstwritersblock (1/1 | 9k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; wayne POV; steve has bad parents; outsider POV

wayne watches as eddie falls hopelessly in love, with of all people, goddamn steve harrington.

it's not a big deal by aidaronan (1/1 | 11k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; mutual pining; angst w/ a happy ending

eddie survives, but his entire life is locked away in the upside down forever (his books, his dnd stuff, his guitar.) everything that wasn't on eddie when steve carried him into the ER, gone. so naturally steve starts giving him things. handing eddie back those little outward markers of who he is.

you oughta know by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (1/1 | 12k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; future fic; angst w/ a happy ending

days stretch out, long and slow. steve tries to ignore the only thing he’s sure of: eddie ran. he ran from him, ran from all of them. or: steve's having a rough couple of years, thanks for asking. compliant fic: i'm brave, but i'm chicken shit (1/1 | 13k+ | M) eddie POV; eddie centric; 1990s; recreational drug use

introduced me to my mind by alchemystique (2/2 | 16k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; mutual pining; getting together; happy ending

"eddie," wayne says, and eddie fights the urge to scream, or laugh, or cry. "i'm not running," eddie tells him, even though that is a fucking lie. "you should call him more," wayne says, and eddie rubs the meat of his palm into his eyeballs until he sees stars. doesn’t think about what 'call him more' means in context—do they talk about him? series: sweet leaf (4/4 | 16k+ | T) outsider POVs; rockstar!eddie; period typical homophobia

steve harrington's guide to making it work by eggbertsheggbert (8/8 | 23k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; steve is kicked out; angst w/ a happy ending

steve harrington has never been good at asking for help. especially not since he started being seen as the protector of the group. so, when his parents kick him out after discovering his sexuality, he figures he can get extra shifts, save up, and get a place before anyone realizes anything is wrong. join steve as he takes on the weight of the world. he's got it figured out, he's definitely NOT struggling, and—above all else—he can make this work.

the power of love by lacerta26 (8/8 | 27k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; outsider POVs; series; post-canon; coming out

jim gets mostly to the end of the house and then someone speaks. "i came out here for a smoke," eddie, his voice low, hushed. "yeah, but this is much more fun," steve now, almost laughing but not quite. * jim had only stepped out for a cigarette when he learns something new about steve and eddie and if this was one of the boys bringing home a girl, he’d have the exact stern words to make sure they were being a gentleman but his usual shovel talk isn't quite going to cut it because he has to let them know it's fine, more than fine, for them to be who they are, here. 

hands where i can see them by SolarMorrigan / @solarmorrigan (12/12 | 29k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; multiple POV; established relationship; emotional hurt/comfort

eddie thinks that he and steve have a good thing going; being friends with benefits is honestly a pretty sweet deal. steve is a great friend, the sex is great, everything is great. except for the fact that steve hadn't realized they were only friends with benefits. except for the fact that steve thought they were in a relationship. except for the fact that eddie doesn't realize how much he'd valued that relationship until it's gone (and he's trying his damnedest to get it back).

it's alright if you love me by alivingfire (7/7 | 31k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; outsider POV; character study; 5+1; steve-centric; hurt/comfort

"oh, haven't you heard? steve harrington doesn't cry." in which steve harrington breaks up, breaks a few hearts (including his own), breaks free, and finally gets to break down. or: 5 times steve didn't cry, and 1 time he did.

off the beaten path by pukner (6/6 | 34k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; alternating POV; queer awakenings; cliffhanger ending (must read sequels)*

"i'm saying this," says steve, loudly, cutting him off, "because someone i love is, uh, gay. and i love them, but like, platonically. and also me calling you a queer might've been a little hypocritical, in retrospect." there is a long, baffled pause. "what," says jonathan, "steve, are you—are you coming out to me?" steve frowns, "oh, yeah, i guess i am. cool." or, post season 3, steve manages to figure out that he's bisexual, despite his best efforts to repress it, comes out to robin and jonathan byers of all people, and figures himself out. also, there's a cute guy who might be actually insane running the kids' dnd club and he's got his eye on him. and his bandana. too bad eddie munson hasn't had a similar revelation. he's still under the impression that he's a straight man obsessing over steve harrington for normal, extremely heterosexual reasons. OR: steve figures out he's bi before eddie figures out that he's gay. eddie still manages to fall first. series: *off-script (2/2 | 67k+ | Ex) eddie POV; internalized homophobia; mutual pining

a tattoo is worth a thousand words by writersagainstwritersblock (18/18 | 40k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; eddie POV; babysitter steve harrington; getting together

"ambidextrous, princess, it’s what makes me so good with my hands." eddie wiggled his fingers. "you mean for guitar?" steve asked, completely missing the innuendo, and also nearly knocking eddie flat at the thought that steve harrington knew he played guitar. "you stalking me or something?" eddie asked. steve frowned. "uh, no, but your band played in the middle school talent show, it's pretty hard to forget a thirteen year old screaming death metal before his voice dropped." eddie almost laughed at that. almost. "you saying i'm unforgettable, princess?" "if that’s how you want to take it, munson." eddie realized this was turning towards something far more dangerous than taunting a boy known for getting into fights, like flirting with a very, very straight boy known for getting into fights. OR after the events of season three steve shows up on eddie's doorstep asking for a tattoo... and then keeps showing up much to the dismay of eddie's traitorous heart. sequel: visible ink (12/12 | 57k+ | M) outsider POVs; firefighter!steve; tattoo artist!eddie; found family

the one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting. by badpancake (12/12 | 41k+ | T) canon compliant; time loop; steve POV; temporary character death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending

it’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. he’s dove into the water hundreds of times. screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard master of puppets in the distance and held back tears. felt max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. there are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: el doesn’t arrive in time. eddie dies. max is put in a coma. steve fails. they lose. "steve, how many loops have you been through?" his head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and eddie has approached him like a spooked animal. "i lost count.” AKA: the one where steve harrington is stuck in a time loop, and eddie munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck volume 2, these bitches are in love.

steve the reluctant by rachtay13 (7/7 | 46k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; oblivious steve; steve plays dnd

robin raised her brows.  "you know what, harrington?" she nodded her head. "yeah, you know what? i dare you to make a friend. i dare you." read for steve in denial, excessive d&d gameplay, robin as a mermaid, and eddie's glinting rings. as one reader said "the most frustratingly dense version of steve i have ever read and i am HERE for it."

you're so fucked up and i love it by genericfanatic (18/18 | 54k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; accidental relationship; hurt/comfort

eddie munson hated steve harrington. he'd apparently saved his life, dragged him out of hell and got him to a hospital while nancy rushed behind him working on alibis and half truths to prove he couldn’t have murdered chrissy. and here he was, doomed to live for the foreseeable future, in debt forever to steve fucking harrington. but eddie really hated how normal steve fucking was.

where do we go from here? (quietly fading away) by allandmore (9/9 | 60k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; non-graphic violence

"what's scarier than saving the world? figuring out what to do afterwards. i get it," eddie turns on his side, one shoulder on the wall, and grips the front of steve's shirt. His face is so close steve can feel the warmth of his breath. "but we've got time now. right, steve? we bought us all time. time to figure all our shit out. isn’t that what matters?" OR steve harrington struggles to find purpose after the upside down. (but maybe purpose doesn't have to be big. maybe it's helping dustin navigate sophomore year. maybe it's reminding robin to send in college admission letters. maybe it's eddie munson. maybe).

star of the masquerade by glorious_spoon (6/6 | 64k+ | M) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending

steve jerks awake, sitting up so quickly that robin almost topples over and staring wildly around the room. when his gaze lands on eddie, he blanches visibly. "oh, shit," he mutters. "come on, no. come on. not again." "harrington?" eddie asks slowly. he does not love the way that steve is staring at him right now. he really doesn’t. steve looks like he’s staring at a ghost, a bloodied monster, like eddie is something that should not exist in the light of day. "you good, dude?"

one size fits all by entanglednow (10/10 | 65k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; fake/pretend relationship; misunderstandings; slow burn

steve just wanted to do something nice for a friend, he doesn't mean to get eddie's ring stuck on his finger, and it's definitely not his fault that everyone he knows is jumping to conclusions.

renegades (leave a light on) by queerofthedagger (13/13 | 66k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; eddie POV; road trip; slow burn; strangers to lovers

eddie doesn't expect to get into trouble for his recent drug business, although he probably should have. even less does he expect steve harrington of all people to save his sorry ass with a nail bat that looks awfully at home in his hands. least of all, though, does he expect harrington to insist on skipping town for a while to avoid the fallout. the winter holidays of '84 seem intent on proving him wrong on all fronts. thrown into a spontaneous road trip-slash-cut-and-run to san francisco—just until things back home blow over, munson—eddie has all the time in the world to confront such questions as: why would harrington care to help him? why does he wake up from nightmares more often than not? and, maybe most importantly, why is the former king so ready to leave hawkins behind on a whim? or: idiot boys make impulsive idiot decisions, and along the way—reluctantly but inevitably—they fall in love. a story of endless winter streets, finding family, and leaving home to find a new one.

falling without caution (people watching) by super_skam310 (10/10 | 66k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; slow burn; eventual happy ending

steve harrington is a man that demands your attention; whether your give it willingly or not is inconsequential. eddie's camp tended to be in the latter category. OR eddie's borderline obsessive watching of steve spanning from steve's freshman year to season 4, culminating in the unfortunate realization that the king had been dethroned the moment nail bat hit monster flesh and that maybe steve harrington was lovable all along.

in the margins by foxy_mulder (4/4 | 70k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; suicidal thoughts; hurt/comfort

steve is having a hard time adjusting to the new normal, after everything that went down. he doesn't want to bother his friends with his problems, though, when they've got so much weight on their shoulders already. steve stumbles on an alternate version of hawkins, where none of it ever happened. everyone’s alive, his headaches are gone, his friends actually want to hang out with him, and he’s…happy. (the party has to fight another monster. but this one doesn't prey on people's fears. it preys on their deepest desires.)

skull rock era by chattrekisses (11/11 | 71k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; steve POV; slow burn; internalized homophobia; fix-it

steve harrington never planned for eddie munson. steve was supposed to marry his high school sweetheart, have 2.5 children, and take over the family business. he was supposed to live a blissful life on a nondescript cul-de-sac, complete with a white picket fence and a closet full of tasteful polo shirts. he was supposed to make a graceful transition between being the golden boy and being the american dream. mediocrity was what destiny had designed for steve. reality had other plans. (or, steve and eddie, against all odds, fall in love.)

roll for seduction by spikeisthebigbad (37/37 | 74k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; steve plays dnd; fix-it

when steve reluctantly agreed to play dungeons and dragons with the hellfire club he expected to hate every second. he did not expect to spend his friday nights flirting with eddie munson. what if eddie and steve were dating during season 4? starts after season 3, and eventually ventures into season 4. not canon compliant.

in over my head by staymagical (16/16 | 75k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; temporary amnesia

one moment, steve is entering his room, ready for bed, and the next he's in forest hills staring at a very confused very concerned eddie and the run-down remains of the old munson trailer. three hours later. thus begins a secret shared between friends, steve leaning on eddie as they try and understand and navigate this new terrifying post-concussion symptom of steve's. with vecna dead and the gates closed, it can only be steve's own scrambled brain giving up on reality. it's a race against the unknown, trying to find answers and search for solutions before it happens again and steve isn't sure how long he can keep pretending he is alright when he is anything but.

leave the light on sometimes all night by anniebibananie (7/7 | 78k+ | M) au—no upside down; steve POV; hurt/comfort; slow burn; eventual smut

june 1986 steve is lonely. he’s always been lonely, honestly. an empty house, absent parents, friends that didn’t really know him. frankly, he probably doesn’t really know himself, either. it used to be easier to ignore—between sports and parties and searching for the next girl to hang around with. then nancy wheeler told him he was bullshit. in the wreckage of the storm, he realized she probably hadn’t been that off base to call his life bullshit. [life in hawkins, indiana is boring, ordinary, no supernatural entities. steve still changes. luckily, he still makes some new friends, too. certain people are simply meant to be in the same story.]

the lathe by palmviolet (13/13 | 82k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; fix-it; angst w/ a happy ending; implied self-harm

"this time, do it right. this time eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. this time, steve will do it right." — or, steve relives the day they try to kill vecna over and over, and eddie just can't seem to stop dying. steve finds this totally unacceptable. sequel: disaster / lucky (1/1 | 7k+ | M) coda; eddie POV; implied/referenced self-harm; trauma recovery

it's got what it takes by rose235b (20/20 | 83k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; friends to lovers; slow burn

“i can walk you to your car if you need to go though.” eddie’s hand stopped moving. robin’s eyes snapped towards steve as if it wasn’t a nice thing to offer. “i’ll just maybe grab the vest so i can leave it for tomorrow.” he was undeterred though. if he could help eddie munson after the worst period of his life by literally just walking, steve would walk across the entire state of indiana. eddie looked back at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to search for something on steve’s face. “okay.” it came out softer than steve was used to eddie being. steve's on his never ending quest to make up for past mistakes. eddie's post-vecna mess of a life seems like the perfect place to start. - or, two idiots fall in love very slowly to the tune of 80s music.

(something happens and i'm) head over heels by gibbouslunation (11/11 | 94k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; angst w/ a happy ending

eddie made a strangled disbelieving noise, expression flickering. "you are not apologizing to me right now, for like, feeling a normal way about stuff. i can’t believe you." steve pushed a shaking hand through his hair. his heart rate no longer in his ears meant he felt he could at least think a little more clearly. "maybe it was the heat. doesn’t always have to be something messed up, right?" eddie gave him a placating nod. "sure, heat exhaustion is a helluva thing." it had been happening a lot recently. the…forgetting. zonking out. whatever. he was pretty sure he was just extra exhausted, it had been a few weeks since everything but it might have just been the adrenaline or something finally wearing off. sometimes it was like he just forgot someone was speaking, or couldn’t remember for a moment what they’d been talking about. like blinking out of a fog maybe. it does not get better, in fact, it actually continues to get worse.

water closet by stillmadaboutpetra (7/7 | 103k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; found family; slow burn; character study

steve's heard that a lot of life changing conversations usually happen in the kitchen or on the porch, but in his experience, it's the bathroom. a series of bathroom conversations (plus a whole lot of everything else) that slowly change steve, and his little world, in the wake of surviving vecna.

burned on the pyre by oklahoma (13/13 | 105k+ | Ex) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending

"i’m gonna save your life, eddie munson." - caught in a time loop created by eleven where he is forced to relive the same day over and over, steve has to come up with a plan to kill vecna entirely while also making sure eddie and max don’t lose their lives in the process.

the beat has just begun by forgetthemoon (12/12 | 106k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; period-typical homophobia; fix it; slow burn

vecna dies. so does eddie. the world doesn't split open. in the aftermath, steve goes home to an empty house. well. almost empty. steve sighs, hanging his head. one more thing. then he can go to bed. the dirty towel can wait until later. he tosses it towards the bathtub without looking and turns to the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. when he looks in the mirror, eddie's staring back at him.

lonely is the night by intrajanelle (23/23 | 109k+ | T) canon divergent post s2; canon rewrite; eddie POV; hurt steve; angst w/ a happy ending

harrington had fallen, splayed in front of his preppy little beemer, like the jock equivalent of a fallen fucking angel. eddie, not having thought this through, watched harrington’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and said, "well, crap." or: post-season 2, eddie and steve get to know one another.

i can give you a heartbeat by soupbitchin (14/14 | 113k+ | T) canon compliant; eddie POV; ghost!eddie; happy ending; fix-it

being dead isn’t like eddie thought it would be. for starters, he’s a lot more alive than he expected. or, the ghost of eddie munson’s still hanging around, and he’d really appreciate if someone could notice him, thanks.

the end is here (and we do it a hundred times over) by placebythering (13/13 | 125k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending

steve jolts awake, staring up into the dull beige of the camper’s ceiling. there’s a distinct brown stain, likely from a leak. the cushion of the back seat is hard against his back, and if he strains he could hear yelling and laughing from the outside. he wonders if he’s finally lost his fucking mind. —or, steve relives the day of the end over and over again.

caught in the middle, helpless again by margosfairyeye (14/14 | 131k+ | Ex) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; angst w/ a happy ending; canon-typical violence

fuck, eddie has been here before. the deja vu was bad enough but this is like, double, this is like deja deja vu or deja vu vu or something, this is unprecedented shit here. and eddie knows what comes next, knows like the roiling ache in his stomach that they’re going to go in, go though the portal and into the upside fucking down and didn’t they already do this? -- -- eddie loops through the time from lover's lake to his death, over and over again.

blood, love, and rhetoric by sourpastels / @lesbiansidney (18/18 | 143k+ | M) canon compliant; alternating POV; eddie lives; canon typical violence; accidental roommates

eddie believes three core things about the art of performance. 1. all the world's a stage. 2. performance is both a weapon and a shield, he wields it as both. and 3. you can’t act death. to quote stoppard: “it’s not gasps and blood and falling about—that isn’t what makes it death. it’s just a man failing to reappear, that’s all…” and eddie had gasped and bled and fell about, and was foolish enough in that moment to believe that was death. but he forgot a crucial step: he reappeared. or: steve is taking it day by day, flitting between the high school and the hospital and hopper’s cabin, locking any thoughts of eddie munson away at the back of his mind. meanwhile, eddie is just trying to get out of the upside down, with nothing but a nail-shield and the world's worst company.

sleight of hand by smithereen (19/19 | 143k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; alternating POV; internalized homophobia; slow burn

steve needs a weed dealer. he gets a bit more than that. (this is an AU set a couple months after the snow ball in season 2.)

take the money and run by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (22/22 |143k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; road trip; getting together; future fic

"rules. like, there’ll be no eating in my car. you're not driving my car. no heavy metal," steve keeps listing, "you’re not picking up women and fucking them in m—" "i'll try to control myself," eddie interrupts with a quip, a smirk. fucking girls in steve’s car, or anywhere else for that matter, isn’t going to be an issue, unless something pretty fundamental shifts in him. steve continues, completely ignoring eddie, "you’ll wipe your feet. you're not dragging dirt all over my car. no hitchhikers. no cutesy road games. no smoking in the car. i'm not paying for all the gas." "ass, gas or grass, got it," eddie says, like he's taking this very seriously. he is not taking this seriously. or: road trip!

if your heart surrenders by asbealthgn (39/39 | 163k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; slow burn; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending

“that one’s on the house, okay?” eddie says, and steve opens his eyes to look back down at him. on his face is the slightest hint of concern, and something else steve can’t place. he’s still holding his hand. "thank you," steve says. he’s not sure exactly which thing he’s thanking eddie for, the weed or the hand in his or the lack of judgment at his fucked up head. he just knows that he’s grateful. eddie gives him a smile, a gentle curve of those pretty lips. "anytime, harrington."

tuesday's gone with the wind by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (9/9 | 184k+ | Ex) alternate universe – no upside down; eddie POV; rock band; drug use; plane crash

corroded coffin's leased plane went down on june 13th, 1995 in the woods of louisiana. ten people on board died. eddie munson survived. before he survived, he really lived. companion series: wildflowers...and all the rest (15/15 | 151k+ | Ex) gareth POV; original female character; one shots; growing old; slice of life

gossip by jcmadgirl (11/11 | 213k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; pre-canon; sexual assault; angst w/ a happy ending

steve's whole life story, told through multiple snapshots of the events that made him into the person that he is today. or, a rewriting of stranger things from steve's POV.

i never did believe in miracles (but i've a feeling it's time to try) by cuoredimuschio (26/26 | 215k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; multiple POV; slow burn; mutual pining; getting together

eddie is beginning to think that, somewhere in the helter-skelter of surviving the upside down, being swarmed by possibly rabid but definitely rancid demobats, and charbroiling vecna’s slimy ass, he accidentally tripped through the wrong gate and landed in an alternate dimension. well, a different alternate dimension than the one he was already in. because steve harrington is flirting with him.

vignettes of lost connections by hardlyhalcyon (halcyonfrost) (50/50 | 229k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending

steve harrington and eddie munson had met long before dustin henderson dragged steve down to reefer rick's cabin. hawkins wasn't a huge town, and there was only the one high school, but the two were never friends. didn't even like each other. in all their darkest moments however, they somehow found company together. or the one where steve has depression, eddie becomes his safe space, and when eddie encounters battles he can't fight, steve reminds eddie of his own strength. a pre-/peri-/post-s4 fic with steddie before s4 events, continuing through and after.

as the world falls down by daeneryske (36/36 | 245k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending

after saving eddie from the upside down, steve hides him at his house while the party concocts a plot to clear eddie's name. what steve doesn't expect is how much he likes hanging out with eddie as they get to know each other. under the looming shadow of the mind flayer threatening to destroy hawkins, steve and eddie realize they're each grappling with their own darkness, from steve's father's impossible expectations to eddie's feelings of worthlessness. their friendship develops into something more even as the party prepares to fight Vecna and his monsters one last time. steve must decide if he's ready to shrug off the rigid roles assigned to him and become his own person. eddie must learn to embrace what steve has been trying to show him every day since nearly dying: that he's worth saving.

nothing else matters by bigskyandthecoldgun (31/31 | 279k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical attitudes; everybody lives

"you ask a lot of questions about me," steve tells him. "because you're interesting," munson says, quiet and honest. "you're a lot different than what i've heard." steve hums, eyes closed. "yeah," he says, eyes fluttering open when munson takes the joint from him again, "you are, too." or: steve ditches the prom to get high.

since you've gone (i've been lost without a trace) by steddieeddie (7/7 | 300k+ | M) canon divergent s4; multiple POV; comatose steve; grief; angst w/ a happy ending

may 31st 1986, two weeks until graduation. robin, eddie, and nancy are all set to walk across the stage, eddie being given a free pass after the whole ‘almost framed for murder’ thing. the three have been trying to be excited about their graduation, but it feels almost mundane to be excited when steve wouldn’t be there. they would be sat out on a football field in the blistering heat while waiting for their names to be called, with dustin and max in the crowd, cheering them on in steve's place. there would be fake smiles plastered to all their faces, no matter how realistic they tried to make them. none of them have genuinely smiled since steve got vecna'd. sixty-five days. steve had been in a coma for sixty-five days. the doctors keep telling the party that it doesn't look good, that steve's injures had been severe, and that they didn't know if, when, he would wake up. but they refused to lose hope. he'll wake up. it's just a matter of time. OR five times steve harrington didn't wake up, and one time he did.

the most dangerous thing (is to love you) by brokebeatle (21/21 | 304k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; shared trauma; slow burn; period typical homophobia  

"i know you care about what those little twerps think of you, and i can assure you they think way too highly of you," eddie says with a wink, and steve gives a half-hearted smirk for just a moment. "but look…i know i can’t ask you to stop worrying about those kids, so how about this? you worry about them, and you let me—actually let me—worry about you." steve pushes his hair back, and yet again, gravity instantly pulls it back down, since he’s looking at his feet. "…i don’t need anyone to worry about me." "too fucking bad. someone’s gotta do it, and it’s gonna be me." "why?" steve replies with a raspy laugh, shaking his head slowly. "why? why." eddie crosses his arms tightly across his chest, knocking his foot into steve’s again with a bit more strength. "because we’re friends, dipshit." —in which eddie's got a reason he's been planning on leaving hawkins since long before the world almost ended. the only thing keeping him in town at this point? his promise to be friends with steve harrington. and eddie doesn't break promises.

the man that i could be by ohstars (26/26 | 325k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending

"steve harrington isn't straight. it's been a few weeks since he sat on that bathroom floor at starcourt with robin, where she shared her biggest secret with him and unintentionally unlocked an entirely new side of steve. since he’s had to come to terms with being open to exploring that side of him, but he's finally acknowledged that he's most likely, definitely, without a doubt into guys." -- after coming to terms that he may be queer, steve harrington does a little exploration on his own and meets the one and only eddie munson. just as things are going well and accepted the fact he's falling for eddie in their own little bubble, steve's world is shaken by a tragedy he can't quite talk about. and when the dust settles and he's nearly ready to put the pieces back together, his worlds collide when he realizes his eddie is the same eddie playing D&D with the kids. the same eddie who's now wanted for murder thanks to another upside down monster. how will he save the day when he can barely focus watching his ex mingle with his monster fighting team? series: the men we've become (4/4 | 45k+ | M) future fics; alternating POVs; domestic living

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me 🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - age gap,, i think thats all

all of the songs and celebrities mentioned in here are from the time periods this was written if you are confused🩷

Chapter 1

It was 1956. I was living with my family at the Bergstrom Air Force Base in Austin, Texas, where my father, then Captain, Joseph Paul y/ln, a career officer, was stationed. He came home late for dinner one evening and handed me a record album.

“I don’t know what this Matt guy is all about,” he said, “but he must be something special. I stood in line with half the Air Force at the PX to get this for you; everybody wants it.”

I put the record on the hi-fi and heard the rocking music of “Blue Suede Shoes.” The album was titled Matt Sturniolo. It was his first.

Like almost every other kid in America, I liked Matt but not as fanatically as many of my girl friends at Del Valley Junior High. They all had Matt T-shirts and Matt hats and Matt socks and even lipstick in colors with names like Hound Dog Orange and Heartbreak Pink referencing names of his songs. Matt was everywhere, on bubblegum cards and Bermuda shorts, on diaries and wallets and pictures that glowed in the dark. The boys at school began trying to look like him, with their fluffy hair and turned up collars.

One girl was so crazy about him that she was running his local fan club. She said I could join for twenty-five cents, the price of a book she’d ordered for me by mail. When I received it, I was shocked to see a picture of Matt signing the bare chests of a couple of girls, at that time an unheard-of act.

Then I saw him on television on Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey’s Stage Show. He was sexy and handsome, with his deep brooding eyes, pouty lips, and crooked smile. He strutted out to the microphone, spread his legs, leaned back, and strummed his guitar. Then he began singing with such confidence, moving his body with unbridled sexuality. Despite myself, I was attracted.

Some members of his adult audience were less enthusiastic. Soon his performances were labeled obscene. My mother stated emphatically that he was “a bad influence for teenage girls. He arouses things in them that shouldn’t be aroused. If there’s ever a mothers’ march against Matt Sturniolo, I’ll be the first in line.”

But I’d heard that despite all of his stage antics and lustful, tough-guy looks, Matt came from a strict Southern Christian background. He was a country boy who didn’t smoke or drink, who loved and honored his parents, and who addressed all adults as “sir” or “ma’am.”

I was an Air Force child, a shy, pretty little girl, unhappily accustomed to moving from base to base every two or three years. By the time I was eleven, I had lived in six different cities and, fearful of not being accepted, I either kept to myself or waited for someone to befriend me. I found it especially difficult entering a new school in the middle of the year, when cliques had already been established and newcomers were considered outsiders.

Small and petite, with long y/hc hair, y/ec eyes, and an upturned nose, I was always stared at by the other students. At first girls would see me as a rival, afraid I’d take their boyfriends away. I seemed to feel more comfortable with boys—and they were usually friendlier.

People always said I was the prettiest girl in school, but I never felt that way. I was skinny, practically scrawny, and even if I was as cute, as people said, I wanted to have more than just good looks. Only with my family did I really feel totally protected and loved. Close and supportive, they provided my stability.

A photographer’s model before her marriage, my mother was totally devoted to her family. As the oldest, it was my responsibility to help her with the kids. After me, there were Don, four years younger, and Michelle, my only sister, who was five years younger than Don. Jeff and the twins, Tim and Tom, hadn’t yet been born.

My mother was too shy to talk about the facts of life, so my sex education came in school, when I was in the sixth grade. Some kids were passing around a book that looked like the Bible from the outside, but when you opened it, there were pictures of men making love to women, and women making love to each other.

My body was changing and stirring with new feelings. I’d gotten looks from boys at school, and once a picture of me in a tight turtleneck sweater was stolen from the school bulletin board. Yet I was still a child, embarrassed about my own sexuality. I fantasized endlessly about French-kissing, but when my friends who hung around our house played spin the bottle, it would take me half an hour to let a boy kiss my pursed lips.

My strong, handsome father was the center of our world. He was a hard worker who had earned his degree in Business Administration at University of Texas. At home he ran a tight ship. He was a firm believer in discipline and responsibility, and he and I frequently knocked heads. When I became a cheerleader at thirteen, it was all I could do to convince him to let me go to out-of-town games. Other times no amount of crying, pleading, or appealing to my mother would change his mind. When he laid down the law, that was that.

I managed to get around him occasionally. When he refused to let me wear a tight skirt, I joined the Girl Scouts specifically so I could wear their tight uniform.

My parents were survivors. Although they often had to struggle financially, we children were the last to feel it. When I was a little girl my mother sewed pretty tablecloths to cover the orange crates that we used as end tables. Rather than do without, we made the best of what we had.

Dinner was strictly group participation: Mother cooked, one of us set the table, and the rest cleaned up. Nobody got away with anything, but we were very supportive of one another. I felt fortunate to have a close-knit family.

Going through old albums of family photographs showing my parents when they were young fascinated me. I was curious about the past. World War II intrigued me, especially since my father had fought with the Marines on Okinawa. He looked handsome in his uniform—you could tell he was posing for my mother—but somehow his smile looked out of place, especially when you realized where he was. When I read the note on the back of the picture about how much he missed my mother, my eyes filled with tears.

While rummaging through the family keepsakes I came upon a small wooden box. Inside was a carefully folded American flag, the kind that I knew was given to servicemen’s widows. Also inside the box was a picture of my mother with her arm around a strange man and, sitting on her lap, an infant. On the back of the photo was inscribed “Mommy, Daddy, y/n.” I had discovered a family secret.

Feeling betrayed, I ran to phone my mother, who was at a party nearby. Within minutes I was in her arms, crying as she calmed me and explained that when I was six months old, my real father, Lieutenant James Wagner, a handsome Navy pilot, had been killed in a plane crash while returning home on leave. Two and a half years later, she married Paul y/ln, who adopted me and had always loved me as his own.

Mother suggested I keep my discovery from the other children. She felt it would endanger our family closeness, though when it did become known, it had no effect on our feelings for one another. She gave me a gold locket that my father had given her. I cherished that locket and wore it for years and fantasized that my father died a great hero. In times of emotional pain and loneliness he would become my guardian angel.

By the end of the year, I’d been nominated to run for Queen of Del Valley Junior High. This was my first taste of politics and competition and it was especially trying because I was running against Millie Collins, my best friend.

We each had a campaign manager introducing us as we went from house to house knocking on doors. My manager tried to talk each person into voting for me and donating a penny or more per vote to a school fund. The nominee who collected the most money won. I was sure that this competition would jeopardize my friendship with Millie, which was more important to me than winning. I considered quitting but felt I couldn’t let my parents or my supporters down. While my mother was out looking for a dress for me to wear to the coronation, my dad kept reminding me to memorize an acceptance speech. I kept putting it off, certain I was going to lose.

It was the last day of the campaign, and a rumor began circulating that Millie’s grandparents had put in a hundred-dollar bill for their vote. My parents were disappointed; there was no way that they could afford to match that much money and even if they could, they objected on principle.

The night they announced the winner, I was all dressed up in a new turquoise blue, strapless tulle net formal that itched so badly I couldn’t wait to take it off. I sat beside Millie on the dais in the large school auditorium. I could see my parents with happy, confident looks on their faces though I was sure they were going to be disheartened. Then the principal walked up to the podium.

“And now,” she said, hesitating to heighten the suspense, “is the moment you’ve all been waiting for  . . . the culmination of a month of campaigning by our two lovely contestants: y/n y/ln  . . .” All eyes turned toward me. I blushed and glanced at Millie. “ . . . and Millie Collins.” Our eyes locked for a brief, tense moment.

“The new Queen of Del Valley Junior High is  . . .” A drum roll sounded. “ . . . y/n y/ln.”

The audience applauded wildly. I was in shock. Called up to the stage to give my speech, I had none. Sure that I was going to lose, I’d never even bothered to write one. I walked, trembling, to the podium, then looked out at the crowded auditorium. All I could see was my father’s face, growing more disappointed as he realized I had nothing to say. When I finally spoke, it was to apologize.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m not prepared to give a speech, as I did not expect to win. But thank you very much for voting for me. I’ll do my very best.” And then, looking at my father, I added, “I’m sorry, Dad.”

I was surprised as the audience graciously applauded, but I still had to face my father and hear him say, “I told you so.”

Being elected Queen was a bittersweet victory, because the closeness that Millie and I once shared was restrained. Still, to me that crown symbolized a wonderful, unfamiliar feeling: acceptance.

My newfound tranquility ended abruptly when my father announced that he was being transferred to Wiesbaden, West Germany.

I was crushed. Germany was the other side of the world. All my fears returned. My first thought was, What am I going to do about my friends? I turned to my mother, who was sympathetic and reminded me that we were in the Air Force and moving was an unavoidable part of our lives.

I finished junior high school, my mother gave birth to baby Jeff, and we said our goodbyes to neighbors and good friends. Everyone promised to write or call, but remembering past promises I knew better. My friend Stephanie jokingly told me that Matt Sturniolo was stationed in Bad Neuheim, West Germany. “Do you believe it? You’re going to be in the same country as Matt Sturniolo,” she said. We looked at a map and found that Bad Neuheim was close to Wiesbaden. I said back, “I’m going over there to meet Matt.” We both laughed, hugged each other, and said goodbye.

West Germany

The fifteen-hour flight to West Germany seemed interminable, but finally we arrived in the beautiful old city of Wiesbaden, headquarters of the U.S. Air Force in Europe. There we checked into the Helene Hotel, a massive and venerable building on the main thoroughfare. After three months, hotel living became too expensive and we began looking for a place to rent.

We felt lucky to find a large apartment in a vintage building constructed long before World War I. Soon after we moved in, we noticed that all the other apartments were rented to single girls. These Fräuleins walked around all day long in robes and negligees, and at night they were dressed to kill. Once we learned a little German, we realized that, although the pension was very discreet, we were living in a brothel.

Moving was out of the question—housing was too scarce—but the location did little to help me to adjust. Not only was I isolated from other American families, but there was the language barrier. I was accustomed to changing schools frequently, but a foreign country posed altogether new problems, principally that I couldn’t share my thoughts. I began to feel that my life had stopped dead in its tracks.

September came and with it, school. Once again I was the new girl. I was no longer popular and secure as I’d been at Del.

There was a place called the Eagles Club, where American service families went for dinner and entertainment. It was within walking distance of the pension and soon proved an important discovery for me. Every day after school, I’d go to the snack bar there and listen to the jukebox and write letters to my friends back home in Austin, telling them how much I missed them. Drowning in tears, I’d spend my weekly allowance playing the songs that were very popular back in the States—Frankie Avalon’s “Venus” and the Everly Brothers’ “All I Have to Do Is Dream.”

One warm summer afternoon, I was sitting with my brother Don when I noticed a handsome man in his twenties staring at me. I’d seen him watching me before, but I’d never paid any attention to him. This time, he stood up and walked toward me. He introduced himself as Steven Wright and asked my name.

“y/n y/ln,” I said, immediately suspicious; he was much older than me.

He asked where in the States I came from, how I liked Germany, and if I liked Matt Sturniolo.

“Of course,” I said, laughing. “Who doesn’t?”

“I’m a good friend of his. My wife and I go to his house quite often. How would you like to join us one evening?”

Unprepared for such an extraordinary invitation, I grew even more skeptical and guarded. I told him I’d have to ask my parents. Over the course of the next two weeks, Steven met my parents and my father checked out his credentials. Steven was also in the Air Force and it turned out that my father knew his commanding officer. That seemed to break the ice between them. Steven assured Dad that I’d be well chaperoned when we visited Matt, who lived off base in a house in Bad Nauheim.

On the appointed night I tore through my closet, trying to find an appropriate outfit. Nothing seemed dressy enough for meeting Matt Sturniolo. I settled on a navy and white sailor dress and white socks and shoes. Surveying myself in the mirror, I thought I looked cute, but being only fourteen, I didn’t think I’d make any kind of impression on Matt.

Eight o’clock finally arrived, and so did Steven Wright and his attractive wife, Carole. Anxious, I hardly spoke to either of them during the forty-five-minute drive. We entered the small town of Bad Nauheim, with its narrow cobblestone streets and plain, old-fashioned houses, and I kept looking around for what I assumed would be Matt’s huge mansion. Instead Steven pulled up to an ordinary-looking three-story house surrounded by a white picket fence.

There was a sign on the gate in German, which translated as: autographs between 7:00 and 8:00 p.m. only. Even though it was after eight o’clock, a large group of friendly German girls waited around expectantly. When I asked Steven about them, he explained that there were always large groups of fans outside the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Matt.

I followed Steven through the gate and up the short pathway to the door. We were welcomed by James Sturniolo, Matt’s father, a tall, gray-haired, attractive man, who led us down a long hallway to the living room, from which I could hear Brenda Lee on the record player, singing “Sweet Nothin’s.”

The plain, almost drab living room was filled with people, but I spotted Matt immediately. He was handsomer than he appeared in films, younger and more vulnerable-looking with his haircut. He was in civilian clothes, a bright red sweater and tan slacks, and he was sitting with one leg swung over the arm of a large overstuffed chair, with a cigar dangling from his lips.

As Steven led me over to him, Matt stood up and smiled. “Well,” he said. “What have we here?”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I just kept staring at him.

“Matt,” Steven said, “this is y/n y/ln. The girl I told you about.”

We shook hands and he said, “Hi, I’m Matt Sturniolo,” but then there was a silence between us until Matt asked me to sit down beside him, and Steven drifted off.

“So,” Matt said. “Do you go to school?”

“Yes.”

“What are you, about a junior or senior in high school?”

I blushed and said nothing, not willing to reveal that I was only in the ninth grade.

“Well,” he persisted.

“Ninth.”

Matt looked confused. “Ninth what?”

“Grade,” I whispered.

“Ninth grade,” he said and started laughing. “Why, you’re just a baby.”

“Thanks,” I said curtly. Not even Matt Sturniolo had the right to say that to me.

“Well. Seems the little girl has spunk,” he said, laughing again, amused by my response. He gave me that charming smile of his, and all my resentment just melted away.

We made small talk for a while longer. Then Matt got up and walked over to the piano and sat down. The room suddenly grew silent. Everyone’s eyes were focused on him as he began to entertain us.

He sang “Rags to Riches” and “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” and then with his friends singing harmony, “End of the Rainbow.” He also did a Jerry Lee Lewis impersonation, pounding the keys so hard that a glass of water he’d set on the piano began sliding off. When Matt caught it without missing a beat of the song, everyone laughed and applauded except me. I was nervous. I glanced around the room and saw an intimidating life-size poster of a half-nude model on the wall. She was the last person I wanted to see, with her fulsome body, pouting lips, and wild mane of tousled hair. Imagining Matt’s taste in women, I felt very young and out of place.

I glanced up and saw Matt trying to get my attention. I noticed that the less response I showed, the more he began singing just for me. I couldn’t believe that Matt Sturniolo was trying to impress me.

Later, he asked me to come into the kitchen, where he introduced me to his grandmother, Minnie Mae Sturniolo, who stood by the stove, frying a huge pan of bacon. As we sat down at the table, I told Matt I wasn’t hungry. Actually I was too nervous to eat.

“You’re the first girl I’ve met from the States in a long time,” Matt said, as he began devouring the first of five gigantic bacon sandwiches, each one smothered with mustard. “Who are the kids listening to?”

I laughed. “Are you kidding?” I said. “Everyone listens to you.”

Matt seemed unconvinced. He asked me a lot of questions about Fabian and Ricky Nelson. He told me he was worried about how his fans would accept him when he returned to the States. Since he’d been away, he hadn’t made any public appearances or movies, although he’d had five hit singles, all recorded before he’d left.

It felt like we’d just begun talking when Steven came in and pointed to his watch. I had dreaded that moment; the evening had gone so fast. It seemed I had just arrived and now I was being hurried away. Matt and I had just started to get to know each other. I felt like Cinderella, knowing that when my curfew came, all this magic would end. I was surprised when Matt asked Steven if I could possibly stay longer. When Steven explained the agreement with my father, Matt casually suggested that maybe I could come by again. Though I wanted to more than anything in the world, I didn’t really believe it would happen.

a/n - thoughts on this story so far? all the fashion and technology and things is still based in the time period its set in but i promise it gets better as the story goes on! i know the age gap is crazy but back in the day it was normal and its the age gap in Priscilla’s book so i just stuck with it. I in no way support this at all🎀

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

[hangingslothcentral]

Today is the fourth anniversary of the day I launched Spirit Box Radio, and it's also the last day of trans awareness week.

I have a lot of big feelings about SBR. If you've listened to the show, you'll know that I was medically transitioning through its release. I went on T at the show's midpoint, in the middle of S2, and my voice was changing throughout the rest of the show's run. I got top surgery two months after the show ended, almost exactly to the day.

Now. We're all big enough and daft enough to be able to have a grown up conversation about this, I think. So here's some stuff about that experience I haven't really talked about before.

1. I wish there had been media which had trans creators transitioning alongside a character who is transitioning when I was younger. The main reason for this is that it would have been representation of trans people, but honestly? The main thing I wanted was to see someone transitioning over a long period of time. So often, transition seems to happen behind closed doors. Unless you are lucky enough to have lots of trans people around you (I grew up in semi-rural Wales so no luck for me there) you just do not see it happening. People, understandably, want to hide the length of the process, the messy in between stages.

2. Transitioning and playing Sam transitioning simultaneous to me was one of the most mentally challenging and emotionally vulnerable things I've ever done. I do not say this lightly; I'm a survivor of abuse and I've seen a lot of shit in my life. I've come out as nonbinary at a corporate job and argued with a university about changing my name on my graduation certificate. As much as I loved it, and still love it, and I'm intensely proud of it and SO glad it exists, making SBR was fucking brutal. Hours of editing my own voice through a period where it sounded different on a near-weekly basis. Having no idea how I sounded anymore and posting episodes anyway. Dealing with the emotional fallout of people responding weirdly to me in my real, actual life whilst portraying a character who is outcast, isolated, and terrified of himself? Challenging as fuck.

3. Many people need to examine the way they're talking about trans men. The conversations around Sam shifted very violently as my voice dropped. This is in part due to the arc this character follows, but it's hard not to notice a shift in language as dramatic as this. It started as soon as the show came back from its S2 midseason break and my voice had shifted down a bit. People talked less about Sam being cute, and for the first time, I started to see people talking about him like he was sexy. These things aren't mutually exclusive, but it was very noticeable to me, especially in contrast to conversations about Oliver, Sam's hot, cis gender, florist boyfriend, who was categorised as sexy from the off. Before my voice dropped, even though they were using the right pronouns for them, people talked about Sam with very feminine, infantilising language, and this almost entirely stopped when my voice dropped.

4. I am so fucking glad I did this. Yes, it was brutal, emotional, and I really struggled through a lot of this process, and I am so glad I did this. I will have the immense privilege of medically transitioning in the way I have over the last few years exactly once in my life. I am glad I took that vulnerable moment and made art with it. I'm glad that my transition is captured and mirrored by this thing I was making at the time it was happening. I'm glad that thousands of other trans people have listened to the show and have heard me doing this as they are doing it, or before they do it, or after, or as they're deciding not to, or finding out they can't, or realising they'll never have the chance, or any one of the myriad experiences of transness that exist. I am, frankly, honoured to have been a part of such a vulnerable aspect in the lives of so many people.

Thank you for reading this. Thank you for listening to the show, if indeed you already have. If you enjoy my work, I would love to be able to pay my bills and be able to keep making it. I have never made even minimum wage for the work I do on my shows. Please consider becoming a member.

[dameronsknight]

Oh, oh! How about a Poe Dameron oneshot where the reader(f) and Poe have a very steamy goodbye the night he leaves to fight for the Resistance and then he comes back a year later (or years, maybe after the First Order is defeated in ROS) and the reader has a baby (a daughter she names after Poe’s mom) that he didn’t know about. Obviously with a happy ending, my man would be an amazing dad.

“I promise…”

a/n: aaaaaaaaaa thank you for requesting this! i think i almost cried while writing it, and i *tried* to write the... steamy part... lmao ANYWAYS, i hope you like it! comments and feedback are well recieved :)

word count: i have no idea bub

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, small mention of a period, reader is female, sad but the rest is flufffff

"Why don´t you come with me?" Poe asked.

"What am I gonna do in the Resistance? I'm not a pilot or a medic. I don't know anything about fixing ships. I'd be useless over there." I said with a sigh.

Poe was looking at me with desperate eyes. He had to leave to join the Resistance. Someone offered him to be one of the pilots. I'm very happy for him because I know how much he loves to fly, but I can't help but feel sad, wishing he wouldn't leave.

Poe looked down and shook his head. "I just don't wanna leave you." He said.

I stood up and walked towards him to gently grab his hand. "But I know how much you wanna go. Saving the galaxy is what you have to do and it calls out to you." I said. Poe leaned forward and rested his forehead on mine.

"I don't wanna leave you." He repeated. I gave him a sad smile.

"I'll be okay here on my little farm. You don't have to worry about me." I said.

Maker, my heart was hurting. It's as if someone is actually trying to rip it out of my vhest. This is it... this is the last time I'll evr see Poe.

"I'll try to come visit you. Any time I have a chance." He said.

"I don't think you'll have time to visit me. You're gonna be a pilot. You'll have missions and responsibilities." I said. Poe shook his head and leaned back to look in my eyes.

"I promise I will. Sweetheart, you're the most important thing in my life." H esaid before cupping my face. "I promise..."

He didn't let me say anything else as he leaned in to kiss me. It was intense and desperate. Poe obviously had control and my knees were goin weak.

We started to walk backwards until my legs hit the bed. I broke away when my lungs felt like they were on fire. Poe was breathing heavily as his hands were still on my cheeks.

"Let me say goodbye to you in the way that you deserve, baby." He said and my heart skipped a beat. A funny feeling appeared in my lower abdomen.

I breathed out an 'okay' and Poe's lips were instantly back on mine. Our clothes were quickly discarted and he laid me down on the bed before getting on top of me, but our lips never seperated.

It was a night full of short breaths, moans and desperate kisses. Poe's weight on top of me as he would kiss my neck and whisper praises in my ear. I never experienced anything like this before.

When we both came to our limits, we stayed there breathing heavily. Poe buried his face in my neck and i started to run my fingers through his hair. I could feel his nose tickling my skin.

"I don't wanna leave you." Poe whispered loud enough for me to hear him.

The realization started to set in and tears started to form in my eyes. I didn't want Poe to see me sad.

I don't want you to leave...

But I never said it.

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

It's been 2 months since Poe left, and it was the hardest goodbye I ever had to say. I've been feeling so sick and with zero energy. I didn't have the best appetite. Of course I blame it on the fact that I miss Poe like crazy.

In these couple of months the galaxy has gotten crazier and very unsafe. The First Order has been catching up to the Resistance's plans and they've become dangerous and evil. Several news of planets being destroyed and systems being taken over.

That means Poe hasn't visited or contacted me not even once.

I don't blame him though. He must be very busy. Yavin IV is safe from all the chaos so I don't want him to worry.

Today I was outside with my animals, until suddenly, My stomach flipped and I felt fery sick. So I ran inside to the bathroom and hunched over the toilet.

Maker what was happening to me? I sat down on the bathroom floor trying to catch my breath. I turned my head and caught a glimpse of a box of pads. Then I realized...

I'm late.

Uh oh. Very, very late to be exact. How could I not realize?! It's been a month and my period didn¿t come. In my defense, I was distracted by Poe's absence.

Ok, ok... calm down. It can't be... I can't be pregnant. Actually, I could be, but i really didn't want to be given the circumstances.

Later that day, I got on my small speeder and went to the local fai to get a homemade test. When I went back home, I walked in the bathroom with trembling hands that were holding the pregnancy test.

10 minutes passed and I couldn't dare to look at the small stick. A million thoughts were passing through my mind. I was shaking, playing with my hair, sitting down, standing up and walking around. Anything to distract myself.

I finally brought myself to look at the test. It confirmed what I was afraid of.

I'm pregnant.

"Maker... what am I gonna do?" I said to myself.

Do I even tell Poe? I don't even know how to contact him. And I can't fly out to the Resistance base because it costs a lot of credits.

Does Poe even want to be a dad? We never had the chance to talk about it.

I'm gonna have a baby and I can't even tell the father. A baby. My baby. I looked down at my stomach and a strong feeling bloomed in my chest. I'm gonna be a mom. Nobody prepares you for this, but somehown I think we're gonna be alright.

"We're gonna be okay, little one. I promise." I said as iI placed my hands on top of where my baby was growing.

Everything is gonna be alright.

————————————————————

5 years later

I heard noises of what sounded like an engine, so I walked into the room only to find my daughter on her bed mimicking an X-Wing’s noise. She was holding the bed head and going nyooom with her mouth.

“Shara, sweetie, what are you doing?” I asked and laughed.

“Mama!” She squealed.

Just like your father… I thought. Shara was so much like Poe. Her little curls bouncing as she played and those big beautiful brown eyes looking at me.

“Here comes an X-Wing to pick Shara up! Pshhhh” I said as I ran over to her and picked her up, placing her on my shoulders and running out of the room. Shara giggled while holding my hands.

I took her outside to the front yard and started spinning around making her get more excited.

“We arrived to your destination, little one! You saved the galaxy!” I said and I brought her down to my arms. “I wish your dad was here to teach you how to fly.”

Suddenly, one of my neighbors came running to my house while shouting my name.

“Hey, how are you?” I asked once he reached my front yard.

“Miss! I have great news!” He said out of breath. “The First Order have been beaten. The galaxy is finally safe!”

I gasped and my eyes widened. “The Resistance won?” I asked.

“Yes! Isn’t that amazing? Those bastards are finally gone!” He said and I smiled.

“That’s great news!” I said and hugged Shara tightly.

“My daughter’s death will no longer be in vain anymore.” He said and I gave him a sympathetic smile. We hugged and then he went back to his house.

That night I could see fireworks from afar. The whole galaxy was celebrating and there was finally peace.

I couldn’t help but think about Poe. I wonder if he’s okay, how he’s doing. I just hope… Maker, I hope he’s still alive.

Shara and I were playing by the fireplace until she fell asleep. I took her to her bed while humming a song until a placed her on it. She curled up into a ball when I covered her and kissed her forehead.

“Sweet dreams, little one.” I said.

—————————————————————

The next day, I was outside with the animals while Shara was at a close distance picking up flowers and talking to herself.

Then, I heard the sound of a fighter getting closer. When I looked up, I saw an X-Wing land on the field in front of my house. The pilot’s seat window opened, revealing the only man who’s been on my mind with a small droid following him.

“Poe.” I said. He was at a certain distance, but somehow we locked eyes once he got out of his ship. My heart was racing and I could move. My breaths were becoming uneven and my eyes never left him.

Poe was walking and getting closer to me. I stood in the same place, fiddling with my fingers. He stopped one foot away from me.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said with a small smile. I could feel a lump in my throat and my eyes filled with tears.

“Poe…” I said. But I didn’t move, I just looked at him and all over his body, just in case I made him up in my imagination.

“Maker, I’ve missed you.” He said and I could see his eyes full of tears, but none of them were yet falling down his face.

“You’re- you’re back. Poe, you’re back.” I said taking a step forward, but stopping myself because I was still afraid he wasn’t real.

Poe, knowing me very well, must’ve noticed this, and reached out to grab my hand. I gasped when his skin came in contact with mine. “I’m back. I’m right here, it’s me.” He said.

I let out a sob and threw my arms around his neck. I hugged him tightly and he returned the gesture. Tears were falling down my face.

“I missed you so much, Poe. I can’t believe you’re here.” I said and he was rubbing my back.

“I know, baby. I missed you too. I came back the moment we won.” Poe said before leaning back to look at me. “We won.”

“I know. I’m so proud of you and I’m so glad you’re okay.” I said with a smile. Poe looked down, seeming ashamed all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I swear I wanted to but everything was crazy and dangerous. I even got taken in by the First Order…” He said and my heart dropped.

“What?! They took you hostage- What did they do to you? How did it happen?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. They didn’t do much, don’t worry.” He said before taking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “But that’s when I swore I would fight. I was gonna do whatever it took to save the galaxy and come back to you… And I did.” Poe said making me smile.

“You did and that’s what matters now.” I said. Poe let out a huge breath and looked down at my lips.

“Please let me kiss you. It’s been a long time.” He said and I instantly connected my lips with his. We pulled each other closer.

We stayed like that for a good minute until we heard some beeping, making us pull away. I looked down and BB-8 was there with his head tilted.

“Hey there, Beebs. I missed you too.” I said. and he beeped back.

Poe gave me that charming smile that I knew too well. Then, he briefly glanced behind me and his smile dropped.

“What is it?” I asked and turned around only to see Shara getting closer with a bunch of flowers in her hand. The sight of her made me smile and I looked back at Poe.

“That’s my daughter.” I said which made Poe’s face fall into disappointment. “…Which also makes her your daughter.” I spoke again and Poe’s face lit up.

“We… We have a daughter?” He asked. I looked back at Shara, who was counting her flowers.

“Shara? Come here, honey.” I said.

“Shara?” Poe asked as he looked at me with the biggest smile i’ve ever seen.

Shara looked up and ran towards us. She glanced at Poe with a curious look and never took his eyes off him.

I bent down and Poe did the same. “Honey, this is Poe Dameron.” I said.

“I’m Dameron too.” Shara said with a gasp. Poe was speechless.

“Remember that picture I showed you of your dad? This is him.” I said.

Shara looked at Poe, surely trying to connect the face she saw in the picture to Poe’s face. Then she recognized him and a bright smile, similar to Poe’s, appeared on her face.

“Dad! It’s you!” She said before throwing her little arms around Poe.

When I looked at Poe’s face, it was full of tears and he hugged her back picked her up. He closed his eyes and swayed her from side to side.

“Oh, Maker… I can’t believe it.” He said just above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry for not being here.”

I shook my head as I started crying again. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I couldn’t find a way to contact you and tell you… You couldn’t have known.” I said.

Shara leaned back to look at her dad’s face. She cupped his face with her little face making Poe smile. BB-8 was rolling around them both.

“How old are you, little one?” He asked.

“Mommy calls me that too!” She said, making me chuckle.

“She’s four years old. Almost five. Isn’t that right, sweetie?” I said and Shara nodded.

“Daddy can be here for my birthday right?” Shara asked with a pout on her face.

“Of course, I will. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you girls forever.” Poe said before looking at me. “I promise.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around them both. Poe kissed my forehead and Shara’s cheek. “I love you both so so much. I love you.” He said, looking at me at the last part of that sentence.

“I love you too.” I said.

We stayed like that for a while until Shara spoke. “Daddy can teach me how to fly!” Poe gasped and placed her on his shoulders, just like I did yesterday.

“I’m gonna teach you all the tricks! Let’s goooo! Pshhhhh!” He said while mimicking an X-Wing with Shara. I laughed as I watched them play around.

Our family is finally complete.

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

[gaianyx]

Scrabble Night 

by Jane F. Nyx

Pairing: Eddie Munson x FemReader

Summary: Eddie's grandma (his Nannie) is always trying to find him a girlfriend. So one day Nannie takes Eddie to Scrabble night with her 'girls' so that she and her best friend could get two metal lovers together.

W/C: 3.2k

A/N: Reposting this Oneshot, because I don’t think it received the love it deserved.

Proof read! Feedbacks and tips will be wel recieved :)) 

Happy reading everyone!!

Eddie loved to visit his grandma Elisabeth. 

She was his uncle’s and mom’s mother, which meant that she was Eddie’s Nannie.

He hadn't seen her in a while, but when he did he knew he would come back a few pounds bigger. Nannie was the type of grandma that wouldn't stop asking his grandson if he was hungry, claiming he was too thin. 

And today was going to be one of those days, or at least he thought so…

Eddie and his uncle Wayne arrived at her house around 2 p.m. 

They could smell the famous homemade cookies from outside the house. 

She lived in a small trailer much like theirs, where Wayne and his sister Lucy (Eddie’s mom) had grown up.

Shortly after Wayne had knocked at the door a small woman with thick and curly hair much like Eddie’s appeared at the door, the only difference being that hers were now grey. She was wearing a dress and an apron covered in flour. 

She couldn’t stop her excitement when she saw the two “My sweet boys,” she exclaimed, rushing them to get inside. 

She first hugged and kissed Wayne on the cheek, saying things like "My handsome boy," and "I missed you so much,".

They had planned their visit for a while, Wayne was always busy with work and Eddie with school and everything that happened in the Upside Down the past year. Only now were they able to visit her, on the summer vacation when Wayne didn't work in the afternoons and Eddie didn't have class.

After Nannie greeted Wayne she stopped right in front of Eddie, looked him up and down and said "Look at you," Nannie had a proud look on her face. 

Eddie wasn't wearing the best outfit, but he did try to impress his grandmother. He wore ripped black jeans and a grey Metallica t-shirt. 

"You have grown so much, my sweetheart," she said, trying to take in how much her boy had grown in a not-so-long period of time. 

 *****

Their afternoon together was more than great, they had spent the time eating the delicious cookies Nannie had made, catching up with everything that happened the last year (living behind some parts, we don't want to give Nannie a heart attack), telling stories about Wayne's childhood and how he an Eddie looked alike, asking if Eddie wanted to have his jeans sewed up by her, then asking again (she thought he was ashamed). 

And asking about his passions, if he still wanted to be a rockstar like he used to say he would.

"One day I'll be a rockstar like Elvis Nannie," little Eddie would say "You will be even better than him sweety," she would reply.

When the day was almost over Wayne declared they needed to go back, he still had the night shift. 

Nannie insisted that Eddie should stay over the weekend, they could do a lot together and it would be nice to have some help. He had just graduated after all. 

"Let the boy here," she said while Eddie gave him puppy eyes, he was transported to when he was 9 years old and would beg his uncle to let him stay over the weekend.

Wayne claimed that Eddie didn't have enough clothes to stay over, "I came prepared," Eddie said when he pulled some clothes from the backpack to show his uncle. Wayne gave up again, knowing it wouldn’t help to debate with the two. Wayne then gathered his things and went home.

Shortly after Wayne left, the party began.

"So, finally," Nannie clapped her hands together and was now walking in the direction of the cabinet, she opened it up and got a long tin bottle of liquor, along with two small glasses. "Now that that boring man is gone…" Nannie purred the red liquid into the glasses and handed one to Eddie, who gladly accepted some alcohol.

Nannie told Eddie about this Scrabble Night thing, where she and her 'girls' went every Saturday to drink and play a bit, it would start at 6 p.m and she wanted Eddie to go with her, "Common, don't you want to make your old grandma some company?"

-"Nannie, you don't have to ask, of course I will go," he wanted to spend more time with her and forget about everything from last year "Who else is going to drive you back?" he smiled at her and she grinned in response.

*****

Elizabeth had been planning this encounter since the day she heard that Eddie was going to come over for the weekend, she knew her grandson very well and by that, she also knew his taste. She had made some attempts before to get the metalhead a girlfriend but she didn’t have any luck. 

But on one Scrabble Night like many others, Nannie and her best friend were talking about their grandchildren and on that night they found out that the two had a lot in common, both were in a band, wore ripped dark clothes and listened to ‘screaming music’. That was when their plan started, they were getting the two together. 

Eddie’s and Nannie’s day was spent mostly chit-chatting about their lives, Eddie helping her in the garden, mowing the lawn, or watering the plants, her insisting on sewing his clothes, again.

“Nannie, it’s a style,” and “No, I am not ashamed to ask you to sew them,” he said.

“Are you sure sweety?” she insisted. 

When it was almost time to go Eddie went to take a shower while Elizabeth was getting ready. Shortly after she changed into better-looking clothes the phone rang.

“Hello?” Elizabeth answered the phone

-“Hello hun, it’s Mary!” the voice on the other side of the line responded, Mary was Elizabeth’s best friend from the Scrabble Nights. 

“I am just calling to confirm everything,” Mary said “Is he going?” 

-“Yes, he is,” she was grinning at the phone “How about y/n? Is she going as well?”

-“Definitely, she is just getting changed and we are on our way,” Mary gave a small laugh “It’s going to be fun hahaha,” the two grandmas, the biggest wingmen to ever exist.

After the call ended they said their goodbyes and were waiting for their grandchildren so they could leave.

“Nannie, I’m ready,” Eddie walked out of the bathroom drying his hair with a towel, he wore the same ripped jeans from when he got there and a white faded Iron Maiden t-shirt. Nannie got the keys from her old pick-up truck and handed them to Eddie “Drive slowly please,”

“Don’t you trust me, Nannie?” Eddie picked up the keys and a smile was spread all over his face “Let’s go,” he said.

*****

After their not-so-long trip they arrived at, what Eddie supposed was a middle school gymnasium. There were a few other cars parked in the parking lot, voices could be heard from inside the place, lots of laughter and that familiar smell of old people. If you know what I mean.

Eddie helped his grandma get inside, “What a gentleman,” his grandma pinched his cheeks. The place was very bright and warm, there were six tables aligned in the center of the area, making a long line, chairs on each side and both ends, and probably more than five sets of Scrabble. The big question now was, “How the fuck are they going to play this?” he thought.

But before his thoughts could be answered Nannie’s eyes had caught someone and she was now waving at the woman entering the room from the door on the other side, Eddie followed her gaze and saw a small old woman with grey hair much like his grandma’s with quite a familiar smile, but she wasn’t alone, a girl followed her, you followed her.

“Is she wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt or have I just gone blind?” Eddie thought, he was staring at you with an amused but confused look on his face. 

The two women were walking their way to them, and as their images were drowned closer he concluded that it definitely was a Black Sabbath t-shirt, the little devils and the purple title spelling ‘Black Sabbath’ made it quite obvious. 

The old lady, that Eddie assumed was your grandma, was a little further ahead and greeted Elizabeth with open arms, “Beth, it’s so good to see you,” the small woman said, she was now turning her head towards Eddie, “And you,” she looked him up and down, “You must be Eddie,” she also hugged him.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma'am?!”  Eddie didn’t know what to do, so he kind of retributed to the hug.

“Where are my manners,” she took a few steps back “My name is Mary, I’m an old friend of your grandma’s,” she now looked towards the girl standing behind her “And this is my granddaughter y/n,” 

Not knowing what to do you send him an awkward laugh and wave at Eddie, which he contributed with a wave and an unspoken ‘Hi’ towards you. You were now scanning him trying to figure out if you would spend your time talking to him or not even bother doing so. 

With ripped black jeans, an Iron Maiden shirt and long hair, he was a solid maybe/we can give it a try.

The two grandmas got a quick catch-up, switched knowing glances, and went to find seats, with you both following a little behind.

“So… Black Sabbath, huh?” Eddie tried to break the painful silence. “Does she even like the band or did she get this shirt second-hand?!” he thought.

-“If you are going to ask if I can name three songs the answer is yes, but I’m not giving you that satisfaction,” you respond a little drier than you intended.

-“I wasn’t going to,” he was now a little embarrassed, he messed up, “Was it that obvious?”. 

-“If you say so…” you looked at him not believing him. Maybe he was going to ask you but decided not to.

-“I have never seen that shirt before, where did you get it from?” Eddie asked curiously, wanting to change the subject a little and know more about the amazing shirt and the beautiful girl wearing them.

-“It’s from their tour from last year,” you said sounding less annoyed by his questions, thankfully.

-“You are telling me you saw Black Sabbath live?” he was in shock, he was next to someone who breathed the same air as one of his favourite bands of all time. It was Eddie’s dream to see them playing live and knowing someone who actually did made him feel so jealous. 

He was one person away from Black Sabbath.

“Yeah, I did, I saved every cent I could get to go and see them,” and you were proud of it, you could see the jealous look on his face, which made you giggle a little. “They were amazing, worth every cent!”

“Yep, I am definitely jealous,” Eddie confessed taking a seat next to his grandma. The two elderly ladies gave each other glances now and then. Again. 

Mary quickly took a seat before you did, giving you no chance but to seat next to Eddie, you looked around to make sure, but all the other seats were taken. You looked at your grandma looking for any sort of response to the way she was acting right now, she smiled at you and quickly looked at Mrs. Elizabeth hoping you wouldn’t notice it, but you did. 

You quickly put two pieces together, they were trying to get the two of you together.

You sat down next to Eddie and decided to give in, he was trying to start a normal conversation, maybe you should try and do the same thing. “Your shirt is pretty cool too,” you said.

“What this old thing?” he pointed at his shirt, it was in fact pretty old, he was surprised it still would feat him and that he could see the graphic. “It is one of my first ones, but thanks,”

You were about to say something but you were cut off by one of the players saying the game was going to start in 5 minutes. You looked at Eddie and he looked at you, both of you didn’t know how to play. 

“Do you know how to play?” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the players.

“I have no fucking clue,” he laughed a little too loud resulting in a few Shh’s towards you two.

Which resulted in more laughter from your side, hands flying to your mouths.

“Want to wait outside until their game is over?” he whispered to you.

“That’s a good idea,” you responded, “Grandma, I’m going to wait outside with Eddie. Have fun” you kissed her on her forehead and got up.

“I am outside Nannie, make some grandmas cry for me,” Eddie also got up.

After the two metalheads left the gymnasium Mary whispered to Elizabeth, “Our plan is starting to work,”.

***** 

“You call your grandma Nannie?” you asked him when outside, the night breeze catching your cheeks and turning them slightly pink.

-“What about it?” Eddie looked you in the eyes.

-“Nothing, it’s just that you look all tough and everything but you call your grandma something so sweet like Nannie,” you said in a sarcastic tone.

-“Are you judging me now, Mrs. Know-it-all?” he grinned at your comment, you just met each other and you were already making remarks, he liked it.

-“Just an observation,” you crossed your arms because of the cold and looked him up and down.

You guys walked to his grandma's truck, he lowered the door of the trunk so that he could seat.

When he sat down he pointed at the free space next to him, suggesting for you to take the seat, which you did.

Shortly after you saw he was looking for something in the pockets of his leather jacket, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

He took one out, positioned it between his teeth, lighted it up and took a long drag. He leaned his head back and blew the smoke out of his lungs through his mouth and nose.

You could see a fraction of what you assumed was a tattoo, he looked hot. You thought, staring a little. Maybe too long.

“Take a picture,” yep, he definitely saw you staring “It lasts longer you know,” he looked you in the eyes and brought the hand holding de cigarette closer to you. He gestured to the cig laying between his ringed fingers with his chin. 

“I don’t smoke, thanks,” you simply reply, pushing his hands lightly.

“Sure,” Eddie took another drag of his cigarette, shorter this time.

“And what does the pretty girl like to do around here?” he didn’t know what to ask or how he could compliment her in a way.

“Well, the petty girl just graduated, so she doesn’t have much to do apart from work, study and play a bit of music,” you liked the compliment, he was very good looking too. So… Maybe this could get somewhere.

“Ooh, really?” he kind of guessed you would say something like that, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up “And what do you play?”.

“I play the drums in this ‘band’ me and my friends formed, but they don’t have much time now for practice,” he looked interested so you continued “So now I just play along with some music, my parents are not the biggest fans of it,” you laughed at the last part.

“How about you?” you tried to match his energy “What does the pretty boy like to do around here?”

“Here not much, I am from Hawkins, I’m just visiting my grandma,” Eddie was happy to know you guys had a few more things in common, maybe even more than he thought.

“I’m also in a band, I play the guitar and I sing. We used to play at this old bar in town, sometimes we had public, a few drunks and my uncle when he didn't have to work. But now our drummer went to college. Maybe you could come over someday and we could jam a bit if you really are that good…” he was a bit hopeful, but he wouldn’t let that show.

“The best in town!” you said proudly “Your dreams might come true Mr, I’m going to spend two weeks with my younger cousin who happens to live in Hawkins as well,” a small smile appeared on your face.

Eddie thought you looked so pretty, the moonlight reflecting on you, the breeze making your hair dance a little, that amazing shirt you were wearing, you played an instrument and matched his energy, he must be dreaming.

“I guess it’s my lucky day,” he said, more to himself than to you.

Time passed and you found out you had A LOT in common, more than you guys had imagined. You had started a little game of this or that to know more about each other.

“Okay, now the important one: Dio or Ozzy?” Eddie asked, he himself didn’t know what his answer would be, but he was curious how you would react.

“I think—” you started to answer, but to his disappointment your grandmas showed up. You were saved by the bell…

“Hallo sweeties! Did you guys have fun?” Mary asked, curious about the outcome of her and Elizabeth's plan.

“Yes, Eddie made a good company,” you said eyeing him, he made a dramatic offended face and turned to talk to his own grandma. 

“Granny,” you said in almost a whisper so that only she could hear it “ Do you have pen and paper so I can give Eddie my number?” you had never seen your grandma be so quick in her entire life, in a millisecond the woman had a pen and a post it on her hand. You laughed, but quickly wrote down your phone number, the address you were staying in Hawkins and your cousin's phone number.

You and your grandma said your goodbyes, you made sure to greet Eddie last. You extend your hand for him to shake, the post-it folded and on your extended hand, he shook your hand and smiled when he felt the post-it. “It was nice to meet you,” he said “It was to meet you too,” you said. You turned around and left, hoping he might call you.

As soon as Eddie got to his grandma’s house he opened the small piece of paper, you had clearly written from who the two numbers were and left below you signed “-The best drummer in town.”.

And on that same night, he called you!!

*****

Hawkins, two weeks after.

You and Eddie had planned a ‘date’, he would pick you up from your cousin’s house, you guys would go to the music store, buy some tees, patches maybe some vinyls. He was excited to see you again, he made sure to look decent. He had woken up early to wash his hair, he even used some good products for his wild hair. You guys had been talking a lot since that Scrabble Night, late-night telephones had become a routine these past two weeks

But as soon as he set foot out of the car he felt nothing but nervous. He walked to the door, triple-checked if it was the right house, this house seemed so familiar, but why?

Eddie decided to knock anyways, footsteps were heard and a muffled “Just a minute,” Eddie straightened himself and that’s when the door sprung open “Hi—” he was in shock.

“Eddie, what are you doing here?” Dustin asked after answering the door. 

Requests: Open

A/N: Thank you very much for reading this post, it means a lot!

If you enjoyed this post pls don’t forget to like and reblog <3333

See you on the next post,

xoxo Jane

[mymoonagedaydream]

Part 11

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout

Author's Note: Apologies, long delay on this one, got back from London a few days ago and oh my fuck I was exhausted. Kudos to anyone that lives there man I could not hack it at all.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

---

Your parents’ voices only faded into the distance once the two of you had turned the corner. You couldn’t help periodically glancing over your shoulder, convinced that you’d eventually catch sight of a sprinting, fiercely angry, middle-aged bitch wielding a modestly heeled shoe in one hand while her golden crucifix pendant slapped against her sunken chest. Your mother would make a damn good horror movie villain. 

Bucky was quiet. You didn’t sense any anger from him, he wasn’t squeezing your hand particularly tight or stomping his boots against the ground any harder than usual, he just seemed deep in thought. Was this… progress?

He unlocked the street-level door and hoisted both of your suitcases up the stairs, disappearing into the darkness at the top before you’d even had a chance to cross the threshold. By the time you’d made it into the apartment, your clothes were littered all over the place and he was yanking a pair of your best underwear up over his jeans.

“The hell are you doing?”

“I like these.”

“Yeah? It’s a shame you’ve stretched them beyond all recognition, then.”

“I didn’t mean on you.”

You gave him an unimpressed frown and moved to snatch them off him, but he was a slippery little fucker when he wanted to be, making you chase him around the front room for a good ten minutes before you managed to get a decent grip on your property. They were pretty much unusable by this point, but it was a matter of principle. 

You were pretty shocked at how good a mood he seemed to be in. You’d expected fireworks, maybe an hour-long tirade about how much of a fuckin’ asshole your dad was and how he should’a laid him out on his own lawn, but it almost seemed like he’d forgotten the whole ordeal. Maybe he didn’t see the old man as enough of a challenge for a full-on brawl? Or maybe he’d finally realised that it just wasn’t worth it? Whatever the reason was, you weren’t about to question it. 

You debated properly unpacking all your clothes but eventually reasoned that you were moving soon, so there was really no point putting the extra strain on Bucky’s rickety old wardrobe that could barely manage the weight of his three t-shirts and two pairs of jeans. Instead, you spent the next couple of hours tangled up with him on the couch. It was so nice just being able to relax and decompress after such a shitty situation, usually you’d be arguing or cleaning his wounds. Hopefully this would be the new norm. 

You were slowly drifting off, letting the stress of the day melt from your body, when Buck unceremoniously jolted you back to consciousness by jumping up and proclaiming his next great idea.

“Alright,” he started to pace, “there’s gotta be somewhere nice in this stinking town. I’m gonna take you out on a proper date.”

“A proper date?”

“Yeah, somewhere fancy. S’about time I treat you how you deserve to be treated.”

“You don’t have to do that, Buck. I’m happy with takeout on the couch.”

“I know you are, but you gotta let me spoil you sometimes.”

A warm, sleepy smile spread across your face. “Sounds good.”

“You’re damn right it does,” he reached out an arm, abruptly dragging you off the couch and towards the bedroom, “c’mon, let’s get you dressed.”

—

You kept trying to guess your destination from the route Bucky was taking but you came up blank, the only time you’d ever been to this part of town was when you were fourteen and your dad brought you along to collect a life-sized, wooden virgin Mary statue that he’d bought from a seedy guy at church. The creepy fucking thing stood at the bottom of the garden for years before termites finally hollowed her out and made her crumble like Sodom and Gomorrah. 

With every corner you turned your stomach tightened with a mixture of excitement and dread. You were looking forward to the evening, sure you were, but you were also struggling to forget that the last time he took you for a night out, he ended up leaving in a cop car. No way could you deal with that shit again.

He pulled you into his side as you were walking. “We’re nearly there.”

“Will you tell me where we’re going now?”

“Nope.”

“If this is another dive bar I swear to god-”

“You really think so little of me?” You shot him a side-eye. “Alright, fair enough.”

As you reached the last corner, he scuttled behind you and placed his hands over your eyes, carefully nudging your legs forward with his knees. You asked him if these theatrics were really necessary. He insisted they were. You were only blind for a couple of steps before the dramatic reveal and, to his credit, you did let slip an audible gasp.

It was a little Italian restaurant, tucked between some vague office buildings but lit up like a white-gold Christmas tree. A small canopy stretched over two wooden tables sitting on the cobbled sidewalk, both occupied by smiling couples nursing huge glasses of inky purple wine. As Bucky took you by the hand and led you to the door, you realised that the inside of the place was barely big enough to seat ten people, most of those seats being already occupied while two smartly dressed waiters rapidly buzzed between their customers, the bar and the kitchen door.

You spotted an empty table tucked in the corner, illuminated by candlelight. Bucky looked back and gave you a smile as one of the waiters led you over. He’d really nailed it, the place was beautiful.

As soon as Bucky’s butt hit the seat, a lengthy wine list was wrestled into his hand. You tried to smother a chuckle as he scanned his eyes over it and tried his best to look knowledgeable. He eventually gave you a wink and pointed to a random name about halfway down the list. Smart move, avoid coming across too cheap but also avoid risking a hundred dollars on some potentially nasty grape juice. You knew there was a reason you liked him.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a minute, taking in your surroundings. Maybe it was more than a minute, you weren’t too sure, you’d gotten a little lost in your thoughts.

“What’s up?” Bucky snapped you back to reality. “That’s your deep thinking face.”

“Oh, nothing, I was just-” 

You were about to brush his question off with your usual, automatic response, the kind that pivoted the conversation away from your feelings, but the genuine sincerity in his face made you catch yourself. You had no reason to hide yourself from him. 

“It’s strange, I guess, but I just keep forgetting that we’ve only properly known each other for a few weeks. It feels like we’ve lived a lifetime together.”

“That can’t be a bad thing though, right?” He reached a hand over the table and placed it over yours. “I wouldn’t complain about a lifetime with you.”

Your lips curled into a wide smile and you interlaced your fingers with his. “Me neither. I’d just really like the next lifetime to be a little less stressful.”

“I’ll do my best to behave.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

He smirked and leant back, nodding at the waiter as he placed the wine down on the table and half-filled both of your glasses. His eyes flicked back to yours and he chuckled deeply as he took a drink with his free hand, wincing slightly before swallowing, his expression telling you that he’d taken a fat loss on the wine list lottery. You braved a sip, it tasted like ass. The two of you fell into laughter together.

Your food arrived and you decided to finally address what was on your mind. You’d been meaning to bring up the events of the morning on the walk over, but you’d struggled to find the right moment or come up with wording that wasn’t unbelievably patronising. Well done for not punching my dad, by the way. Really proud of you kiddo. Maybe not. 

“I also wanted to say,” you pulled your plate towards you and swallowed harshly, “what you did today, it really meant a lot.’

“What, wearing your underwear?” You gave him a playful scowl. “Sorry, go on.”

“I know sometimes you struggle to control this self-destructive streak, but you walked away from a fight today. I’ve never seen you do that before.”

His eyes dropped and his smile slowly faded. Shit, had you upset him? That was about as diplomatically as you could have worded it, maybe you should’ve just kept quiet. You were about to attempt a swift topic shift when he finally piped up.

“It hardly makes up for all the other times, though.”

“Maybe not, but what you do now matters a hell of a lot more than what you did in the past.”

He was staring at your hands, your words obviously not making a dent in the spiral he’d suddenly found himself in. “Y’know, before you came back, the stuff I did… it was some kind of miracle that I survived.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. It was more than a self-destructive streak, I really just had nothing to live for.”

Jesus, that knocked you back. You felt like you’d been winded. The worst part was that he didn’t even look upset, he’d just fallen into this heart-breaking expression of sunken acceptance. You’d never seen him like this before.

You reached out and squeezed his hands hard. “Things are good now, and they’ll be good from now on. That’s what matters.”

He nodded, looking back up at you and forcing a smile. In that moment it became incredibly clear to you how important it was to get away from this town and start again. Granted, a simple change of scenery probably wouldn’t be enough to completely disconnect him from the guilt of his past, but it would at least make it all seem a little further away. You just knew that you were desperate to help him, and you were willing to try anything. 

You gently tried to dig a little deeper into the subject but he swiftly pivoted once he realised how upset you were, his usual cheery demeanour reappearing as he tucked into his meal. It was almost impossible to get more information out of Bucky once he’d stonewalled.

The rest of the evening was lovely and calm. He flagged down the waiter and ordered two beers after the sewer water he’d ordered had all gone, and the two of you quickly discovered that the restaurant took their ‘bottomless breadsticks’ promise a little too seriously, all but force-feeding you by hand to get them gone.

You just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was hanging over you.

You knew you’d have to talk to him more about it soon, even if you didn’t particularly want to. It was his face as he said it. You never wanted to see that again.

---

Part 12

---

Taglist: @touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

Join taglist here

I realise that I just completely abandoned my taglist when I started writing again but I figured most people on there would have just forgotten I existed lol so I'm going to start it over, please join if you fancy.

---

[youremyheaven]

i am so here for the mercurial slander omg. i had the displeasure of being friends with a mercury-ketu girl who was genuinely unhinged and extremely immature. like i'd say something completely innocuous and she'd sit on it for like two days and then i'd receive like 4 paragraphs of her chewing me out just because she misunderstood something i said

the other two mercurials i know (free me) are the biggest yappers i've ever met. one of them would literally send upwards of 150 messages to our group chat daily of just a never ending stream of thoughts, which was annoying in and of itself, but the real issue was that she'd yap endlessly and never read any of our messages or ask how we were doing. i've noticed this theme a lot with mercurials where they just use people as a sounding board and forget to even ask how your day was before the yap fest begins

😭😭😭😭 sister,, I can tell the pain is fresh because you did not hold back 💀🫡

Using other people as a sounding board is soooo TRUEEE OMG 😭😭ILL SCREAM

my former friend, Revati Moon who ghosted me for 3yrs came back into my life last year and from the way she spoke about her circumstances I knew that she was alone and just wanted company lmao but I thought I'd give her the benefit of the doubt anyway and what followed was a huge lesson in trusting my gut and not giving anyone the benefit of the doubt 😮‍💨💀🤡 I was her unpaid therapist and soundboard for several months. The conversations were often too long for comfort or she'd go on one of her rampages about how awful people are (Mercurials are unfairly critical of others, have you noticed?) and she frequently took digs at me and was one of those people who make jokes at the expense of others. I had to reallyyyy hold my tongue bc she was clearly at fault in half of the situations she's describing and i couldn't stand how she was always putting down absolutely everybody she spoke about.

I'd have to come up with lies or sometimes I'd pretend the call dropped or something bc 😭 7hrs is too many hrs to be talking to someone night after night (and the conversations are majorly heavy or unpleasant) i felt like she thought I owed her my time unless I had a "valid excuse"

during these months, she'd go on trips and I'd be as good as dead to her in this period. Once she was home and bored again, the calls would restart.

she said something awful to me and I stopped talking to her and maybe a month later after she said some other awful thing, i confronted her and she started shouting at me saying she's been mad at me all along for not talking to her 💀💀💀💀 which

a) isn't true (I texted her like 2 days after the first incident and she didn't respond to it --- she shouted at me saying she wanted me to call her???)

b) she literally said something godawful to me which made me want to not talk to her???

Needless to say, that "confrontation" was a spectacular display of Mercurial manipulation. I asked her why she was so goddamn mean to me and she said "I don't think this conversation is helping either of us, I'm sorry, now let's move on"

🤡😭😭 and I asked her about incident 2 and she said she's used to being around people (read: men) who bully each other playfully and that she wasn't used to my "sensitivity" (for context: I sent her a semi nude picture and she told me my shorts looked too tight around the waist and that looking at my "realistic" body helped her feel seen bc she's used to seeing photoshopped women and went on to compare both herself and me to our friends who are more petite 🤡)

After almost a year of being her unpaid therapist, she once interrupted me telling her something and told me to "wrap it up quickly" 😭😭😭 (the audacity) like she didn't gaf about what I had to say unless it soothed her ego somehow lol

As if all of this wasn't enough, I decided to call her a month ago, even though by this point we hadn't talked for over 2 ish months and she ended the convo 2 mins in saying she'll call me back and never did.

The way Mercurials exploit others to just bitch and whine and yap needs to be studied

Everything you said about your friend, I can also relate to (unfortunately)

Most Mercurials are friendless or have superficial friendships and tbh it makes sense bc they make it really hard for others to stay friends with them 😭 sorry to say it

[rustyshake]

PENS WIN! FINAL - PGH 6, PHL 3

IT'S A PARTY ON FIFTH AVE !!! PENS WIN

Notes from the Final Frame

Kolosov replaces Ersson in the game and right away, he ROBS Nieto of a clear empty net shot. DOC had a really nice set up for Nieto but he didn't shoot it high enough, it hits the right pad of Kolosov.

Rakell almost had his second of the game but it deflected off the top of the crossbar.

Acciari just LAID Ryan Poehling out oh my goodness. The Flyers do not like it, but Acciari made a clean hit.

What a physical game, really enjoyable so far. Lots of back and forth, these two teams have no love lost between them.

Letang takes Hathaway down and also falls down at the blue line with him. I can't wait to see the hits number after the game is over, if it's not combined over 50, I'll be surprised.

Tortorella pulls Kolosov with over 3 1/2 minutes left and the Flyers are operating with 6 on the ice atm. Lots of choices for the Penguins to score. Sid gets another assist, he passes Mario. Bunting gets a goal, he gets a h*t trick, sooo many scenarios.

17:30 - PGH GOAL - SID GOAL !!!! With the empty net, Crosby capitalizes off of a bad turnover by Jamie Drysdale.

19:48 - PGH GOAL - With 17 seconds left, the Penguins go on the power play and immediately score. Acciari wins the faceoff, sends it back to Shea who shoots it wide of the net and Lizotte collects the rebound for his 8th goal of the year.

Penguins are a 1st and 3rd period team, amazing. They came right back to life in that final period.

Scoring Summary

17:30 - PGH ENG GOAL - Sidney Crosby (10)

19:48 - PGH PP GOAL - Blake Lizotte (8), Assists : R. Shea (2), M. Nieto (1)

Final Stats from the Game

SOG - PGH 22, PHL 26

FACEOFFS - PGH 59.2%, PHL 40.8%

Penguins were 3/3 on the power play tonight.

Hits - PGH 21, PHL 26

Blocked Shots - PGH 11, PHL 8

3 Stars of the Game

⭐️ - Sidney Crosby (1G, 3A)

⭐️⭐️ - Michael Bunting (2G)

⭐️⭐️⭐️ - R. Rakell (1G, 1A)

Great way to enter the holiday break! Play picks back up on Saturday against the Islanders on Long Island. Happy holidays everyone, enjoy the mini break!

[hidden-poet]

UNTIL. DEATH; 5

Harry woke at 4 from pure excitement. He felt as if he had been waiting for centuries. He had dreamt of a wife since he could last remember, and now she was finally here. 

His reward for years of hard work and perseverance just in the room next to his, sleeping safely. Harry felt as if he had finally won.    

Or at least he could see the finish line from were he was at.

He peeks in to see daisy sleeping. She had gone to sleep in a singlet and cotton pants. She curled up against the pillow telling Harry that she wanted him. 

She shuffles slightly and Harry retreats to his own room. It would not be good to be found peeking this early on. 

He goes to the light in his walk-in wardrobe. The space empty and waiting for his wife. He runs his hand along the wood. Soon it would be filled with fine clothes for her. She would infiltrate his space and make it a home. 

Leave her scent lingering amongst his clothes as he slaved away in his office. 

It was almost in his reach. All he needed was for Daisy to wake up. 

Harry doesn't sleep the rest of the night. Choosing four cups of earl-grey and some planning for his new development. 

He sat in the living room with his laptop on his lap. His eyes lingered to the steps when they should have been focusing on his work. The later it got, the correlation between the decrease of his work became evident. 

By the time it hit 7:15 he had only managed a period at the end of the sentence. He changes tactics washing and dressing himself. 

She does eventually rise from bed at 8. She sits at the counter with a bowl of cereal in torn jeans and a grey t-shirt. Her attire was something to be worked on but nothing money couldn't fix. 

"Good morning" he greets. 

"Good morning" she smiles back. It makes his heart flutter. 

"Did you sleep okay?" he asks pouring a cup of coffee from the pot.

"Like a baby. That bed is like a cloud".

It was extremely expensive so Harry was glad to hear it. 

"Good" Harry remarks. 

He hated the silence that came next. She was suppose to ask how he slept, and then he was going to mention that he woke early to finish some work. Showcasing his string work ethic. But she sat eating her cereal. 

"What's the plan today?" he tried to warm her up to conversation. 

"I have collage at 10. I should actually go. I haven't done any of my readings". 

His plan had failed as she picks up her bowl and rinses it in the sink. She wasn't engaged in conversation, she was running from it. 

"I'll take you" Harry offers in a haste, "I am just leaving myself". 

She shakes her head no with a bashful smile, "It's ok! really. the bus runs every 15 minutes". 

"My car is running in 2 minutes" he takes her elbow in his hand and leads her out to the living room, "Go get your stuff".

She smiles up at him. It was a good sign. A promise to a happy future together. She was learning now that she could rely on him. 

She tells him she'll be fast as she runs up the steps, only slowing to allow Vera and Hunter down the steps. She gives them a 'good morning' in passing. 

For once Venessa had Hunter ready for the day at a respectful time. His diaper bag slung over her shoulder suggests they were going somewhere. 

"Can you give us a ride to play ground? it's on the way to work" Venessa asks. 

"No" was the immediate response. He felt he needed the time alone with Daisy to build their relationship. Sharing a car now could mean an extra week added until the start of their relationship. 

Venessa huffs in disappointment.

"Bus runs every 15 minutes" Harry shrugs his shoulders, leaving his coffee cup on the kitchen table. 

Daisy bounces down the steps once more and Harry couldn't help but smile. 

"Whoa" she exclaims, "this is your car?".

Harry felt his shoulders shake with pride. 

"You like it?". He opens the door for her in true gentleman style. 

"It's beautiful". She accepts his invitation in. She sat perfectly in the seat. 

Harry imaged matching cars in the drive way when he returned home. They had matching taste.

Her smell hits him as he enters the car after putting his briefcase in the backseat. It knocked him around. He hadn't even realized that he had started the car and began to drive until the security man at the gate wished him a good day. 

"This community is insane. A security man to let you into your own block, so crazy rich". 

"Do you like it here?". Harry would hate to move if she didn't but he would if she asked him too. 

"I mean, it's been one day, but yes, I could very much get use to a neighborhood were the biggest crime is someone's bins not being brought in after bin day. My car got stolen twice at my old place. I got it back when the police were done with it the first time but the second time, it got totaled in the chase". 

Harry cringes at the story. It was so obvious she needed a man to protect her. Was she hinting at it too? 

"That's bad luck. I am sorry". 

Daisy laughs unexpectedly , "A little excitement at least". 

Harry offers a tight smile unsure on how to respond. The collage was only 20 minutes away and was quickly coming into view through the traffic. 

"How's collage going?" he asks. He didn't really care. University was no place for a women like Daisy. Hunting grounds for suitable men but a waste of time for someone so pretty. 

"Good. Good. Excited to graduate and get out in the field". 

The field being work. Another place not fit for Daisy. She would be miserable but feminism would command her to be happy about her misery. Nursing babies at home is not fulfilling enough, they needed to be out amongst the men to prove something to nobody. 

The women who protested at the traditional family unit, never had a chance at obtaining it. Their jealousy turns to venom and spills into the heads of impressionable young women like Daisy. Daisy was not a fat, bule haired, repulsive dog. She had a shot at a very happy life as a little wife. 

There was no need for the 'field'. All she had to do was let Harry take care of her. She too seemed to realize this as they pull into the drop off line. 

Her turn comes up to quick and Harry's heart drops at the sound of her unblucking her seat belt. 

"Thank you so much for the lift" she makes a quick exist. 

"Anytime, Daisy". Her name like hot butter on his lips. 

"I'll see you at home. Have a good day". She waves him off as she enters the school ground but he remains frozen in his car. 

Home. She had said home. A shared space between the two of them. Home, shared between man and wife. She wanted him. He was sure now. All his work was his to taste now. 

The car behind him beeps the horn. With a roll of his eyes, Harry drives off to work. 

With the work from this morning, Harry was finished his work by 1. It was still impressive considering the amount of breaks he had to daydream about being a husband. 

He had mentally started to plan the wedding. He had almost got the guest list down. They would have a band, not a DJ and the first dance would be to 'At last'.  Once he knew more about Daisy, he could pick the type of ring he would buy. His thumb flicked his ring finger, feeling the empty space. 

It didn't feel right. A ring was suppose to by there by now. Daisy had come latter then planned, but better late the never. Still, he felt almost ashamed to be unwed. 

He couldn't stand another second in his office with his critical thoughts. They proved to be a warning sign as he exits his office, Mary is sat at her desk with Brad half leaning over her. 

She stops talking as soon as she sees Harry glaring from the doorway. 

"Mary, I need you in my office" he demands. 

"Mr Green" brad greets but is ignored. 

"Now" Harry reiterates. 

Mary and brad go their separate ways. Harry is quick to place a door between them. 

"I am going home for the day. If you direct the calls to your mobile you can too but either way I do not want to hear you spent the afternoon conversing with Brad". 

"But" Mary begins.

"You're easy to fire, Mary" Harry collects his case from his desk and leaves Mary in the office. 

He does not drive home, rather the jewelry shop he passes every morning. 

A security guard opens the door for Harry, sensing his money from how he dressed. He was greeted quickly and offered a drink but he refused all service. Instead going straight to the ring cabinet. 

He stares at the gold rings under the counter. He had always imaged picking out his wedding ring with his bride-to-be. Maybe he could come back with daisy

"Hello sir" the women behind the counter greets.

"Hello" he shyly responses. 

"Can I help you with anything or are you just looking at the moment?" she politely asks. Harry was sure to leave her a nice tip at the end. 

"I am looking for a wedding ring. My wedding ring". Just the words coming from his mouth gave him a rush. He couldn't image the actual feeling he was to receive when it was finally true.

"Oh. Congratulations. when's the wedding?"

"March" harry lies easily. "Beautiful. Has anything caught your eye so far?" He points to a thick gold band with a small star Dimond in the middle.

"I'd like to see that one". 

She takes the tray out of the glass cabinet and places it before Harry so he could see all the similar rings. She passes the desired ring to harry, who slips it on his ring finger. 

"8 carat gold, engraved artwork of a shooting star centered on a ethically sourced diamond".

It was a beautiful ring but perhaps too causal to be a testament to enteral love. He wanted something that screamed married man. This ring could easily be confused with a dress ring. 

He passes the ring back to the young women, gazing upon the rest of the selection. 

Another one catches his eyes, and he picks it up without permission. It looked like the one his father used to wear. Rectangle in design with small diamonds edging the side. 

It would pair nicely with Harry's signet ring so he put it back. A wedding ring was a leash to let all others know that the person wearing it belonged to another. It was not a fashion statement. 

Besides, a reminder of his father was the last thing Harry wanted. 

"Do you have anything more wedding appropriate?".

"Of course, sir" she places the tray of rings back under the counter. Harry was interested to see her own wedding finger was bare, despite her many rings. If he hadn't found Daisy just days before he would have asked her out.

She was pretty and polite enough. But now Harry was a nearly married man. 

The young women walks over to another counter, brining back a collection of rings. 

"These one has just came in. The latest style in men's wedding rings, is this beautiful emerald cut diamond set in 14 carat white gold''.

She showcases the ring to Harry but he had always been a traditional man. He had no interest in trends. The diamond was cut into a rectangle shape and displayed sideways in the center of the ring. 

"I am more of a gold man" he tries to redirect her gently. She nods her head, placing the ring back and picking up another. 

It caught Harries attention immediately. A thick gold band that had small circle diamonds lining the top and bottom.  

"How about this one. 10 carat gold, featuring two rows of perfected small diamonds".

He takes it from her gently and places it on his finger. It looked perfect upon his slim finger. Strong and masculine but with a romantic touch. It showed he was head of a household to a loving family. A reflection of who he wanted to be. 

He was aware of the young girl looking at him while he stared at his own reflection in the gold. He tried to shake off his excitement, as he wiggles the ring from his finger and reluctantly places it back into her hand.

"This is the one", he remarks as if he hadn't just seen his life flash before  his eyes. 

"Great" she smiles at the commission, "I'll get it wrapped up and meet you at the front counter".

He had wanted to insist that she just give it to him to wear out, but the wedding was in March, he had said so himself. Women got excited for weddings; men just paid for them. 

He waits impatiently at the counter. His foot taps against the carpet as he tries to control his facial expression. 

The young women is quick and follows to the counter before Harry could get too impatient. 

The smile on her face never disappears, "With warranty that will be $5,700 today". 

He flashes a smile back and then his card. 

"She'll be very happy with your choice" she comments as Harry signs electronically.  

He leaves her a $300 tip for her service and playing unknowingly into his fantasy. 

"If not. We'll be back. Happy wife, happy life". 

She laughs somewhat forced and wishes him a good day. 

Harry in his good mood, wishes one back. 

He takes it out of the box as soon as hey gets into the car and shoves the ring onto his finger. It looked so good. Like it was meant to reside there. He didn't care if it wasn't real. One day it would be. Harry was born to be a married man. The gold on his ring finger confirmed it. It molded around his finger. Harry was a family man without a family. But daisy would soon change that. As he drove, his eyes lingered to his hand on the steering wheel. God he loved the look of it. He stops at a shopping center, despite not needing anything. The ring glistened in the sun as he walked with a new air of confidence. He felt as if people were looking at him in a positive light. A young married man, they probably thought, a kid or two or at least one on the way. He was not one to fall behind but in his personal life he admitted he was not where he wanted to be. But he was catching up. The ring pinched his skin as he picked up a basket. He liked the feeling. He had not been in a shop for years. It felt different now he could afford more than beans. He wondered around the store, picking up random items that seemed like they would fit his imagination. Daisy asked him to stop by the shops to pick up salad things for dinner.  She was at home, under the weather with their two year old. He better pick up some more dippers. Can never have too many. A grandmother smiles at him as she passes him in the baby ile and he nods back. Family man. Doing family man things. Not being able to help himself he picks up baby food and a colorful plastic shaker toy. The basket was full and heavy by the time he reaches the counter. He avoids self service: he wanted someone to see the contents of his basket and draw their own conclusion. He is greeted by a middle age women who begins to scan his things. "My baby has one of these" she shakes the rattle stick, "he loves it". Harry cringes watching her bag his things. She was standing behind the counter for long periods in an ugly red shirt. If her baby was still entertained by a rattle toy, she should definitely not be at work serving him. The company would go on if she was rightfully at home. Harry felt like her and her presumed still boyfriend was single handily ruining the country. He and his, had to defend the traditional ways. The right way. He imaged Daisy at home bouncing a baby on her hip as she prepared dinner. How lucky was he (soon to be). Harry doesn't speak to the un-wed mother as she tells him the total. He just presses the card against the reader until it beeped and then went home to his family. His hand slightly turning towards her as he picks up his bags to show his ring. Tucking the nappies under his arm for all to see, he takes the steps of a man who had a overwhelmed wife and a young child at home.

He plays the fantasy the whole car ride home. A rushed father needed at home. 

But as he pulled into his carport the fantasy ended and reality set in. He twists the ring off his finger and places it on his index finger. An ode and silent promise for what is to come. 

For now he had to act calmy. If he is caught in a crazy act, it could push Daisy away forever. 

He unloads the car, placing the diapers once more under his arm. A harmless play. 

He was disappointed to find Venessa home and not Daisy. 

She greets him like she knows too, but could instantly tell something was wrong. 

"You got me diapers?" Venessa asked. He normally brought the diapers but never personally picked them up himself. He felt a sense of annoyance handing them over to her. "They were given to me" he lied. She takes them, balancing them on the opposite hip of hunter.

"Well thank you". Another thing she has learnt living with him for the past few years. Always be polite, always show gratitude.

"Did Daisy say what time she would be home?" He asks as he places the bags in the kitchen. He had little idea where to put them. 

"You took off with her this morning. I barely knew she was going". 

Harry pulls the rattle toy out of the bag and walks over to Hunter who took it in his little hand. 

"Can I hold him?". 

Vanessa wanted to say no, but the lights remained on because of him.

He seemed okay. Lucid enough at least to know that Hunter was not his son.

She passes him over to Harry's tight hold. 

"You like that?" he exclaims to the child, rattling his new toy. 

"I was thinking" he turns his attention to Vanessa, "You shouldn't get a job while Hunter is so young. I don't want you to be standing behind a counter while Hunter is left to another". 

Vanessa was shocked. That was Harry's bullet. Get a job and stop leeching off him.  Now suddenly he was going against himself. Daisy was a good idea for both parties. 

"I agree. A boy needs his mother but his mother needs money". A callous move on Vanessa's part. 

"Help me secure Daisy, and I'll look after you both" he promises, "Hunter will go to the best school, best collage, and straight on to a secure job at my firm. At which point you will become his responsibility and not mine".

Vanessa grins, "What's not to love about you?". 

She knew from experience a lot.

Daisy was still not home yet. It was nearly 6. Harry paced the living room, waiting for her. He freezes his pace at the sound of the door. 

She greets him with a cheerful 'hey' and his anger vanished. "We were worried about you. Up near the university can be a dangerous place". She brushes him off with a shrug. "Not really. There's campus security". "Still we would feel better if we knew what time to expect you home". Daisy looked unsure on how to respond to his odd request. "It helps us organize ourselves too. Knowing who is home at what time. Venessa and I have always shared schedules. 

Venessa had always been forced to share her schedule, and Harry schedule was none of Vanessa's concern. 

She  nods her head. 

"Ok. No problem. I'll organize a rough draft". A soft smile and then she's disappeared up the stair case.

"Dinner is ready!" Harry's wife called from the kitchen. Her head cold nearly gone. 

She places the baby in it's chair, and Harry takes his seat across from her. 

"Thank you for running to the shop for me this afternoon, honey". She pours him a drink for his hard days work, "i really wasn't feeling up to it". 

" A unmarried mother served me today. With a child no older then ours!". 

"Disgusting" Harry's wife shakes her head. 

They ate dinner as a  nuclear family upholding traditional values within a world gone mad. 

[fluffansmut-old]

Like you haven’t done that

Part 3

Summary: After you and Jonathan leave with your partners, doubt creeps into Joyces mind and she start to wonder if the choices she made were right, she calls up hopper for reassurance.

Content warnings: Byers!reader (only mentioned in this part though), mentions of sexual activity, self doubt, mentions of periods, sweet fluff

Word count: 973

AO3 | masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2

When Joyce heard the car pull out of the driveway, her children and their significant others inside, she thought about the speech she had given.

Was she too strict? Or was she the total opposite? Were her children about to go rogue and make irreversible mistakes, all while thinking they had her blessing?

All the doubt forming inside her got the upperhand and she felt like she was the worst mother in America.

She needed someone to talk to, some reassurance and a laugh.

So she picked up the phone in the hall, fingers dialing quickly.

“Hello Joyce” Hopper said, voice tired.

“Am I the worst parent ever?” she bluntly asked, not even bothering to say hi.

“Well if you are then join the fucking club” he said, unironicly.

“Did something happen with El?” Joyce asked, forgetting her own problems, now focused on helping Hopper.

“It's more a question of what didn’t happen with El…” the man said with a sigh. “She's been upside down and inside out all day long and I can't for the life of me figure out what’s going on?”

“Have you talked to her about it?” Joyce asked.

”I've tried, believe me, but she’s snappy and short with me.” he said, truly confused as to what happened to his girl. “all she wants to do is mope around in her room, she came out for dinner but there wasn’t much of a conversation there either”

“It’s hormones” Joyce said, having gone through it all before with her two eldest. “Trust me, she is feeling all the emotions on the register and she can't quite navigate or understand it herself, there isn't much to do than to have an insane amount of patients and try to talk to her, to reassure her that it's okay.”

“Huh” was Hopper's first response.

He hadn't really gotten into the mindset of raising a teenager yet. He still sometimes got aftersweats from that time late last year, when El woke him up screaming that something died in her bed. He hadn't known what to say nor what to do when he walked in on her with bloodstained sheets and pants to match. So Joyce and her experience, advice and never ending stash of pads had been the answer then too.

“You, knowing this, pretty much proves that you're not the worst parent ever” He then said, shifting the focus back to Joyce.

“It doesn´t feel that way, my eldest two are apperently having sex now, and it kinda annoys me that I didn´t know before hand.” The stress in her voice was so present, it almost felt like one could touch it. She took a shaky breath and Hopper almost wanted to jump through the phone to put a cigarette between her lips, to calm her a little. Before he could say anything she continued.

“ Like is my intuition slacking off? Was my sextalk too late? Am I only months away from sharing a grandchild with Karen Wheeler or Wayne Munson?”

The last question threw Hopper a little. Jonathan and Nancy were of course not a surprise, but at the mention of Munson he almost choked on his own spit.

Cos he knew Wayne, hell he had shared drinks with him more than a few times. He knew that he was an honest man, who fathered a child that originally wasn't supposed to be his. A role he and Hopper now shared. Hopper had a lot of good things to say about Wayne Munson.

That was also why he looked between his fingers, when he heard rumors about how Wayne's nephew was selling drugs on school property.

He knew very little about the younger munson, but he had seen him around town. And rumours spread quickly around Hawkins.

The kid looked intimidating. Almost scary even. Hopper knew that he was better than judging by looks, but in this case he couldn't help it and blurted out:

“Your girl is really sleeping with Munson's kid?”

He cared a great deal about Joyce and her kids, so for her daughter to be with someone of that reputation worried him a little.

“Hop, I’ve met him.” Joyce stated, she heard the weariness in his question. “and from what I know he’s a good kid, although life hasn’t been exactly kind to him”

Hopper wanted to take Joyce's word for it, but he was still weary, cos he knew things about Eddie Munson's father too.

To say he didn’t worry about if all those qualities that he possessed somehow genetically transferred to his son, was an understatement.

“I guess,” he muttered.Then he remembered the purpose of the call.

“You are doing a great job with them Joyce”

Those words made stray tears fall upon Joyce’s cheeks. This was essentially what she wanted to hear, it was what she worried about, daily. That she didn’t measure up, that the fact that her three kids didn’t have a father present would scar them in unimaginable ways.

“Thank you,” she said. “Do you want me to talk to El?”

Hopper thought about it, it would be convenient and calming to have someone else talk to her, but when push came to shove, she was his kid and he needed to be able to handle it.

“Thank you, but I’ll talk to her again myself,” he said. “You’ve inspired me.”

“I’m positive that you’ll do fine, you know it can’t be worse than what I’ve already been through tonight, and then you can totally manage” Joyce said.

“Please don’t remind me that there are worse things to come,” Hopper said with a groan. “If she ever comes in the future admitting that she wants to sleep with that wheeler kid then I don’t know what to”

“Send her to me” Joyce said, “I’ve got your back”

“And I got yours”

[subtile-jagden]

Emil Schäfer - Part 1

Family Carl Maria Emil Schäfer was born on 17 December 1891. Named after his father, he went by the name Emil. He had two younger sisters. His father was a fabric manufacturer; two things Emil had in common with his flying comrade Werner Voss whose father had the same profession and also was from the city of Krefeld in western Germany. They also went to the same school, not at the same times though as Werner was six years younger.

Military service and Work After his graduation in 1911 Schäfer had to do compulsory military service but was able to join the Einjährigen-Programm, so he only had to do it for one year instead of the standart two years. He chose to serve with the Hannoversches Jäger-Battailon Nr. 10 (Infantry) in Goslar. After that, Schäfer was destined to join his father's company and become a merchant. For that he did internships with some of his father´s business colleagues. He had the opportunity to go to London and then to Paris, making him fluent in English and French. Originally he had planned to stay in France for some years, but the year was 1914 so destiny had other plans for him. His father came to Paris to bring him back to Germany, eventhough the imminent threat of war wasn´t yet taken seriously from neither the Schäfers nor their French colleagues: “We joked about our departure, drank to seeing each other again soon, and separated as the best of friends”.

War time service 1914 - 1915 Schäfer, in the rank of Oberjäger, tried to rejoin his old regiment, but was ordered to Westfälisches Jägerbataillon Nr. 7. His first mission was the occupation of Liège, Belgium after its capture the days before. His task was to secure the train station and the bridges around the city. But Schäfer was eager for a more active role in the war: “Hopefully we'll get to the enemy soon. I don't like the police service anymore”. His wish soon came true, and on September 1st his unit is deployed for the storming of Maubeuge. After several days of shelling the fort, they managed to take it. 52,000 men on the French side were captured by 18,000 German troops. After that they were supposed to march on Paris but another unit needed help and after a march of almost 100 km in two days they managed to prevent an enemy breakthrough of the lines.

On September 26, 1914, the course of the war changed for Emil Schäfer when he was shot in the leg while taking the town of Chivry. He had to spend almost 7 months in hospitals and in rehab before he could walk again. The result of the injury was a shortened left leg, which made it difficult for him to walk long distances. He returned to his unit in April 1915 which was still in the same area where he last left them; the city taken and the soldiers deep in the trenches. There he stayed until the end of 1915. He had started to get bored and was also struggling with his injury; his leg was healed, but he found it difficult to walk and stand for long periods of time.

Pilot In January 1916 Schäfer started his pilot training in Köslin. After successful graduation he was sent to Russia in July to join Staffel 8 of Kampfgeschwader 2. His main task was to attack Russian positions with bombs and machine gun fire. “We start twice or three times a day. Occasionally tethered balloons are charred and Russian planes shot down.”

Emil wrote extensively to his parents, describing a day in the life of a pilot: “At 4:45 in the morning my orderly appears and throws me out of bed, half an hour later I appear in my oldest and dirtiest outfit in the dining car, where the gentlemen from squadron 8 and 9 gradually arrive. Coffee, milk, sugar, bread and occasionally a little butter is delivered. Almost everyone still has a pot of jelly, jam, butter or sausage. This first breakfast is very hearty and plentiful, because if you are unlucky, it must be enough for the whole day. Then we go to the airport. When we arrive, the planes are ready. I walk around my good old machine, checking a turnbuckle here and there, then I get attracted. Schubert helps me into my flight pants, buttons, buckles, zips up the various fasteners, has crash aids, goggles and gloves ready. The squadron leader gathers the six crews around him and issues the order. My observer and I now go back to our plane. The plane is started, we take off. Six minutes after the start we are almost 1000 meters high. We're over the city on time, I'm heading straight for the train station and the bombs are already falling. 600 kilograms of the most powerful explosive ammunition poured over the buildings and facilities. Then we go home. The square is lively now. The fitters take over the machines. The observers gather with the squadron leader and report; the pilots still have work to do on the machines, are talking to the fitters, the foreman, and to each other. When everything is done, it's off to the cars and home to the residential train, where everything is discussed again in detail over the second, also very thorough, breakfast.”

In January 1917 Kampfgeschwader 2 was sent to the Western Front. Schäfer was now part of a Jagdstaffel (fighter squadron), flying single seater fighter planes. His first victory almost cost him his life, having to crash land after shooting down a French flyer. Now that he had a taste for being a real fighter pilot, he turned to a former comrade he met in Russia: Manfred von Richthofen, who had recently taken over the leadership of his own Jadgstaffel. In mid-February, Schäfer got the okay to switch to Jasta 11.

[areseebee]

20 questions game for fic writers

tagged by @strideofpride!

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 9

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 153,297

3. What fandoms do you write for? derry girls at the moment, though i do have one lonely bridgerton fic.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? an intervening suitor, smoke break, making moves, someday, personal space

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes, always. it means a lot to me when someone takes the time to comment and, as a commenter who likes when the author responds, i like to be the author that responds! there was a short period of time last fall after derry girls season 3 came out on netflix when i felt pretty overwhelmed by the engagement with my fic and i let myself take a break from responding then, but i'm more on top of it now.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? smoke break

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i think i might be writing it now with someday, but of the fics i've completed, i think in their thirties has the happiest ending (sorry making moves, y'all are definitely breaking up in a couple of years).

8. Do you get hate on fics? nope.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind? not at the moment. writing good smut is a skill that i think i would need to spend a lot more time developing. that said, i'm in the very early stages of working on a WIP that has a pretty sex-heavy premise so maybe i'll give it a try soon.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written? nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? not that i know of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? i have collaborated significantly - making moves - but i've never actually co-written. that's also a skill i would need to develop. i worry i would end up being an asshole to someone i care about since i don't like to compromise on creative decisions if i have a specific vision in mind. that said, i have loved my experience developing fic plot and characters with friends (which imo is a type of co-writing), so maybe the next step is full on co-writing.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? my favorite ship to write is jerin, if that isn't obvious. i don't even know how to begin to decide what my favorite ship of all time is.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? if i publish something online, i'll finish it eventually. no WIP left behind. but there are definitely ideas/half-written fics in my gdocs that i don't know i'll ever get back around to. there's something new i just started working on and have already put on the back burner for someday and i'm already wondering if i’ll ever finish it even if the vibes are impeccable and i've written some stuff in it that hits so good. but who knows.

16. What are your writing strengths? i'm very good at writing exactly what i want to read. taste and skill don't always match up, but they do a lot (and increasingly more so, the more i write) and i find that really fun and gratifying.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i am very impatient. i always underestimate how long something will take me to write, and then get frustrated with myself when it's taking too long or i think the writing should be moving faster. i think i've moved too quickly past parts that needed more work because of this, which is frustrating when i go back and re-read past chapters (i'm thinking specifically of someday which i am tempted to re-write almost constantly). but i'm getting better at it. maybe i'm not getting not less impatient, but at least more persistent.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? i mean if the fic called for it i could probably swing it in russian.

19. First fandom you ever wrote for? harry potter. my bad james/lily fic is now out there on ao3 after the site where i published in high school got archived a couple of years back, but i'll never claim it. i re-read something recently, though, and it was surprising how much i could recognize my current writing voice in it. the more things change the more they stay the same.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? this changes, but right now it's smoke break. i just re-read it over the weekend and, while it's not perfect, it still scratches a very particular itch. i'm also very proud of in their thirties.

tagging: @private-bryan, @imstressedx

[oh-archivist]

Punk transgender here lmao  Hey, I’m Nikk and it’s nice to meet you! I’m 22 and Non-Binary =) I’m currently going through my gender therapy sessions, on my 6th one! I start T in May and I’m super excited OFC ! I started sessions in Feb 2015 and figured out my gender last year and took the better part of the year researching and such about transitioning with everything ! And knew I wanted to transition and said in 2015 I was going to do it and here I am almost 8 months later from my first thought, I’m on my way to being myself and unbelievably happy in my own body! I haven’t even started T yet and I’m already so much happier being out to my family, friends and most of my co-workers =‘) I’m bless to be able to reach out to so many people via Tumblr and help out as many people as I can! I just feel like I’m actually starting to live my life now that I found myself and am working on my way to being who I’m supposed to be..

I'm 30 now, jfc. Still non binary and I go by Fox now (they/he). The old name was too hetero-normative for me; It helped not only me, but those around me transition into seeing me as more masculine but I needed something more, me, and in 2020, I decided to try something more neutral and it's been Fox ever since.

I, of course, started T. I was on for about 6+ years before stopping in 2020 due to really bad anxiety over my shots; as well as losing a lot of my hair to genetic and T that started in 2018.

I've been off T for 2+ years, I miss it. My body/facial hair doesn't grow as fast or as thick, my period came back, my hips are back and fat redistribution went back to where it was. When working out, I don't gain muscle nearly as easily. I feel dysphoric but not nearly as much as I did before T. I still pass and I enjoy my femininity when I give it narrative. I tried going on T gel but my body doesn't respond to it :') I'd like to go to a doctor and see about trying another brand or stronger dose.

All in all, I'm glad I went on T. I wish I would have had more knowledge about how to slow down the hair loss process. (Those who are curious, Rogaine and Finasteride are you best friends, but not when it's past the point of no return) Or have just stopped T completely in 2017, but I'd still be in the same place I am now, dysphoric, but at least I'd have my natural hair! I have experience with both hair pieces and wigs now that I use them daily to make up for my own hair being very thin compared to what I was used to for 24+ years of my life. It was very hard and difficult transition from thick strong hair to what I have now but I knew the risks and no point in regret. I know I would have regret not going on T. Still learning to love myself since my hair loss. I've lost one of, if not my biggest form of expression. It hurt, still does. But I've slowly come around to wigs and well, beggars can't be choosers.

TL:DR -

I'm 30 now, I go by Fox, on T for 6 years, and off T for 2, stopped bc of anxiety and hair loss, I wear wigs a lot more to make up for hair loss. Changes off T: Period is back, hips and fat redistribution back to pre-T ways. muscle gain not nearly as easy, body/facial hair grows a lot slower/less thick, etc. I lost access to this blog when I was living in Australia in 2018, but recently got it back a little over a year and half ago now, so it's pretty cool to be able to update anyone who knew me, what's been up with my transition.

If you have any questions, hmu!

[jodilin65]

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 31, 2010 I was looking at different people’s horoscopes for the New Year. Since Tom plans to launch his ever so greatly improved program in the spring, I found it rather ironic that a “project” Tom’s working on will be ready to launch by the spring, Andy will be in great health, and boy will Maliheh be lucky in love, LOL.

Anyway, this is going to be my last entry for 2010 as there’s not much else to say other than that we installed and trained some voice recognition software on my computer, even if it’s not perfect. Let me test it right now.

I am using my new software program right now and it is going to need more training before I can use it for writing stories. So far I am impressed with how well and downs. But as you can see the word downs is incorrect.

Maliheh said she wasn’t planning on doing anything today or for New Year’s Eve, so hopefully she’ll spend some of it with me. :)

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 30, 2010 Woke up at 12:30 and thought wow, this is the third day in a row I woke up at this time. But then I closed my eyes and didn’t open them again until 2:30.

No exciting dreams last night other than painting a room with Maliheh with music blaring, sitting by a pond and then riding a bike.

We’ve been having a cold spell. We froze last night and it will freeze tonight, too. It’s not fair that Maliheh’s going to be almost 70º in a few days, though we will be back in the 50s soon enough.

I decided to take an Aleve rather than bug Tom for a backrub. I know he’d do it, but most people don’t like to give backrubs, so I popped a pain pill instead. I get backaches before periods which may be starting now even though it’s not supposed to for a few days.

Didn’t talk to Maliheh yesterday, but I did talk to Nane. She’s going back to Turkey next week and says she’ll read my story there. I still don’t get how she can’t afford to move there till she retires, but can vacation there 3 or 4 times a year. And why have an apartment and not a house if you can afford trips like that? That’s like going from New England to Florida.

I sent Mitch and Maliheh copies of my story, but I don’t expect either of them to read it. When I don’t hear from Maliheh like this, I get a touch of what it’s like to be Marie and find a part of me wondering if she’s mad at me. But the difference between Marie and I is that I know she’s just busy, not as into me as I am into her, and that she would’ve told me if she were mad at me.

I decided to update my bio every year instead of every few years. It’s easier to remember things that way, especially since a lot seems to happen even when things are basically the same. Only I won’t be publishing it online since I’ve been doing daily journaling for some time now.

This weekend we’re going to look for voice recognition software to download. I’m thinking that if I could speak the skeletons of my stories out, despite the fact that I type very fast, it would make things easier for me if all I had to really worry about was the editing, which is 75% of story-writing anyway.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2010 Just a quick update and a quick dream. Jesse was out when I got up, so I could tell by the barking I had to listen to till I yelled at them to shut up. I will admit, however, that the barking’s not nearly as bad as it used to be when he’d take off. He soon came back in the truck, got propane delivered, then roared in and out on the motorcycle.

After losing a couple of pounds despite not dieting or exercising, I finally jumped a couple of tenths. Maybe I’ll do some running soon. I suppose there’s no reason to fall out of shape simply because I’m tired of dieting and going hungry. Just got a little exercise when Tom and I were playing with the rat.

In real life, I got a free inspirational calendar for joining this site and was having fun reading the quotes off to Tom and altering some of the words. I changed “relieve every hurt” to “relieve every bladder” and shit like that.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 28, 2010 It’s raining out there and I’ve been hearing the usual scattering of loud vehicles at Jesse’s place, though only twice so far. I heard a huge truck not even 5 minutes after I got up and I thought it was a propane truck, but when I looked out the window I saw a white pickup with a shell. The sound didn’t seem to fit the vehicle.

Also, our connection is still cutting in and out like crazy. It was fine throughout the afternoon, but now it’s been out more than it’s been in, and we’re supposed to have a rain/windstorm tonight.

Chatted with Maliheh which I always love to do. I may be different, weird and eccentric as hell sometimes, but one thing I’m not is a self-kidder. I know it may be false hope, but false hope or not, I’m not ready to give up hope of one day seeing each other, no matter how horrible I may fear she’d think I looked.

We’ve really gotten to be good friends. I really think she might actually miss me if something happened to me. LOL, you know you like someone when you like the idea of thinking they may miss you if you were no longer around. Ah, but only the good die young and I’m too much of a bitch to die anytime soon. Sure thought we were going to last month, though, and I thought what, have I been too nice or something?

I still have my Helium stars, LOL. But only $4 in my account there. That’s why I stopped writing for them. But when are they ever going to make their decision on that other $56 article???

MONDAY, DECEMBER 27, 2010 My mouse was seizing up last night and since getting up today. When Tom got in he determined it to be something wrong with the mouse, not the computer. The cursor was moving in super slow motion and taking forever just to move across the page. We changed the batteries, but it did it again, so we swapped the Mac and laptop mice. I like this one better anyway for the Mac because it’s smaller and fits in my hand better and the scrolling wheel is smoother.

It was then that I realized that it would be nice if I made the laptop “emergency ready,” so I set up the Yahoo toolbar with my favorites over there too, and backed up a lot of stuff.

I wasn’t even up 10 minutes when sure enough I heard Jesse fire up that damn truck. He was out for about 4 hours at which time I heard a few barks, but nothing too crazy. Then he came back, but left again shortly afterward. It’s dark now, so hopefully he’ll stop coming and going soon. I was surprised, though, that he wasn’t out tending the land or working on some annoying project. I heard sawing again, but that could be anywhere.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 26, 2010 Once again we’ve been having to play the outage game. The net’s been cutting in and out like crazy after the fierce rainstorms we had. Yeah, yesterday wasn’t a white Christmas, but it sure was a wet one. Today there’s actually some sunshine. But until the problem is fixed, which I don’t suspect will be anytime soon, I won’t be online much and I won’t always be able to reply to messages right away. Just wanted people to know what’s going on so they don’t think I’m ignoring them or anything.

Today and yesterday have been wonderfully pain-free and wonderfully quiet. No loud motors, no barking. Jesse’s obviously out of town and has taken his damn dogs with him. Wish I could say the peace will last, but I know we’ll just be right back to the same old engine-gunning routine come tomorrow with him coming and going 3-6 times a day and doing God knows what in between.

Went out for burgers and fries earlier and God was kind enough to hold off the screaming kids. They were just entering the place as we were leaving it, LOL. There was a survey there and I immediately thought of Andy and how we’d say we lived at 69 Cherryclit Road and our phone number was (616) 666-6969, LOL.

Marie peeked in on my journal at 9am her time. I’m not surprised she’d pick this time to reminisce about those good ole days with me before her paranoia and hostility pushed me away, for it was Christmas when we first met up after 26 long years.

From the looks of it, she’s still living in the same trailer.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 25, 2010 Yesterday ended a lot better than it began. It began as usual; with me in pain and Jesse’s loud motors, though it wasn’t as much pain and noise. But as the sun set, the pain went away, Jesse and his dogs were quiet, and things improved. Tom and I enjoyed pigging out, each other’s company, and playing with the rat. I also got to talk to Jessie, Andy and Maliheh.

Andy called around 6pm. He reminded me to call him Mark, but that is such a hard habit to get into after knowing him as Andy all my life, LOL. Anyway, we talked for so long and I laughed so hard that my throat was sore afterward. And all the while the rat was being sure to be naughty as can be. He was as fun and as funny as he was annoying, though. It was as if he were jealous of all the attention I was giving that phone that he just had to misbehave so I would go chasing after him and give him some of that attention.

Andy and I reminisced about the past and talked about the present. We talked about Molly, who’s already viewed my blog nearly 50 times today and whom I’m amazed hasn’t latched onto him. We talked about people we used to know and currently know. And while some memories from our days of making prank calls are still pretty funny, the thought of actually making any prank calls right now simply does not amuse me at all. There’s nothing fun or funny about the idea of it and that’s the way I’ve felt for 15 years now. Maybe more. Andy, however, still pulls occasional pranks, something I was not aware of until he told me. But hey, whatever turns him on. :)

What didn’t make any sense at all was this journal his sister Linda was contacted about from an electronic store in Arizona. The manager called her in Cali because her name and number were supposedly in this journal that someone left behind there, and I guess Andy spoke to the guy too, because he described the writings in the journal as well as the looks of it as being exactly like something that would belong to me. Only problem is that back when I was writing journals by hand I would not only not write phone numbers in them (I kept them in an address book), but why would I take it to Fry’s Electronics and then leave it there? He said this happened right around the time we burned all my journals and I switched to doing them in Word only.

“Well, maybe someone came by and dug them up,” he suggested.

No way. That’s just not possible. They’d have been nothing but ashes anyway. It’s a very strange coincidence indeed, but I’m not the only one who knew Linda or who kept journals by hand, so it could’ve been anyone.

Although Jesse’s been kind enough to keep himself and his dogs quiet so far today, Andy really nailed it to the point by saying that Jesse’s really taken from us what we came here for. It’s true, too. He has totally spoiled the peace and stolen the days from me. A peaceful day in the country? Ha! That’s just a dream. I still have the nights, but the days are gone. Gone until it gets hot again and that’s not for half a year. Come Monday he’ll be right back at it again, coming and going like crazy and making sure I have to know about it every single time he does. But when you know you’ve got a noise curse on you and every single neighbor you’ve had in the last 15 years has been a nightmare, I’m still not so sure I want to move. I’d only have to listen to someone else’s shit there. But I do sometimes get sick of being cramped in here, so we’ll see. The only neighbor Tom and I have had that was ok since we’ve been together was Kim, back up in Oregon, but even she wasn’t perfect. Not with all the car door slamming she’d sometimes do, then in the end with the way she was blasting in and out.

What was funny was when Andy said something to the effect of, “I know you. As soon as you move you’re going to send Jesse those journal excerpts letting him know just how much he pissed you off.”

Yes, but not quite, LOL. Why pay for the toner, paper and postage to send them when I can just email them to Maryann who will let him in on it for sure? She’ll be quick to tell him all about it, so instead of taking the time to print everything out, I’ll just pass the word with a single click, LOL. I’m looking forward to that day too, but that’ll depend on where we go from here. If we just go to another rental, we’ll need Jesse as a reference, so the excerpts might have to wait.

We talked about so many things that I can’t remember every little thing. It was good to laugh together like old times and to jokingly sign off with things like, “Goodbye bitch,” and “Goodbye whore,” like we do in private messages, LOL.

I also laughed at how he pronounced Nane’s name as Nayne. And at how he thought Houdini’s picture was creepy looking. That was the rat picture I had on Ask till I shut it down since Molly just can’t leave me alone. It’s like that sick bitch’s mission in life is to try her damnedest to push herself on everyone who doesn’t want anything to do with her. And why is it that the good-looking chicks don’t realize they’re good-looking while the ugly dogs think they’re the good-looking ones?

If I’m forgetting anything that I remember later on, I’ll add it to my next entry. For now, I’m going to enjoy the peace and quiet and being pain-free till it starts up once again. And sadly it’s only a matter of time before it does.

Oh, yeah. Maliheh! Now that’s one person that’s just as hard to figure now as she was 20 years ago. I talked to her last night and a few times today. She’s still cleaning and pissed at the annoying barking around her.

Just like she gave me mixed signals 20 years ago, she’s giving me them now too, though I don’t think she realizes it. If she’s not attracted to me and doesn’t have at least some feelings for me, then why does she bother with me? And why does she put up with me being flirtatious with her?

Mitch was telling me the other day that some guy was speared by an icicle north of him. What a perfect weapon that would make. Once it melts – no weapon, no prints.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 24, 2010 My Ask account has been deactivated until there is a block feature available there. This is thanks to Molly Rose M.

Anonymous comments will also no longer be allowed on my blog either. Perhaps now it will finally sink in that no, I’m not playing around, and when I fight back I fight awfully mean and dirty when provoked long and hard enough. Especially when people I don’t even know and never wanted to know continually stalk, harass and contact me every single fucking place I go. And I don’t care if it’s to wish me a happy holiday season and not that you want to kill me or something vicious like that. “No contact” means NO FUCKING CONTACT!!!!

Other than Molly’s shit, it’s a typical day with Tom, the rat and Jesse’s loud motors. I’m sure he’ll soon be tearing up and down the drive with the kid on the dirt bike just like he was yesterday. What, does he want to lose us? Is he trying to drive us out of here? Why doesn’t he just ask us to leave if he wants us out of here or at least tell us he doesn’t give a shit either way? I really wish he’d give us just one day off from his trucks, motorpsychos, dirt bikes, chainsaws, bulldozers and whatever shit he can run to create a rack and spoil the peace! I can’t wait to get back on nights!

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23, 2010 I want to be home in the secluded comfort of these woods, even if they’re not always so peaceful, thanks to Jesse. I also want to be on some deserted tropical island, and back down in the desert (just not Arizona), in Europe visiting my cyber friends that live there, and where my Maliheh is.

I want to stop being in pain so often, too. Still can’t tell if it’s my ear or my teeth or both, but I’d say it’s more than likely my teeth. I woke up in pain in the middle of the night, then I had some pain when I got up for good. We can’t do anything about it, though, till mid-January. We have a lot of extra expenses coming up between now and then like car insurance, propane, etc.

But why don’t bad things happen to bad people, just like Alison asked? Other than a few online pranks, I’ve been rather well-behaved for years. If anything, Maliheh’s the one that’s inspired me not to even pull those occasional pranks. So since I don’t go around robbing banks, killing people, torching buildings and beating people up, why am I being made to suffer like this??? My worst “crime” is wishing a few people didn’t exist. But don’t we all have a few people we wish didn’t exist? If someone can tell me what it is I’m missing and why I deserve this shit, do let me know.

We no longer fear they’re going to lay him off anytime soon. The question is whether or not they’re going to hire him and when. I’m going to be really damn pissed if we do end up paying for my teeth to be dealt with just to turn around and be insured right afterward.

Tom came into the room and gave me a candy cane which they gave him at work when I was chatting with Maliheh last night. I had nearly finished it all when the rat jumped up and grabbed what was left of it right out of my mouth. It was pretty funny, LOL.

Maliheh and I chatted live on Yahoo like Marie and I used to do only with her, it’s more fun. She’s still not getting all my messages, and then she herself had trouble signing into Yahoo’s chat thing. Eventually, she figured it out, and she told me her garage door wouldn’t close so she had to call someone out. But then after she came back from going on her walk, the thing still wouldn’t work, so she had to call them back out. I guess this is what she means when she says everything electronic hates her lately. At least she’s lucky enough to have a garage. I wish we did but out here it doesn’t matter as much. Not just because it’s secluded here, but because we don’t get a lot of snow or as hot as the desert.

Maliheh said I have a great sense of humor and loved it when I said North Queerolina, LOL.

I was also surprised to learn she’s reading the bio parts I’ve been posting. I didn’t think she’d be interested in the past.

I kind of hope Tom will come home with some goodies today, too. I guess they’re to be doing something special for lunch because they told everyone yesterday not to bring any lunch today.

There seems to be a dead zone of sorts in my stats. For about 5 hours a day in the afternoons, nothing’s being recorded. Yet I know people are coming in because I’m getting hit with friend requests at those times that no matter how many goddamn times I say on my ‘about’ page or anywhere else that I won’t accept them, they still hit me with anyway. I can also tell something’s wrong just by the fact that I can see 2 or 3 days’ worth of hits at once on my list. I usually get enough traffic that people are pushed off the list by the end of the day that made it onto it at the beginning of the day.

Later…

I am so sick of being in pain and so sick of Jesse’s shit! He really spoils the daytime on a regular basis lately. Engine gunning, chainsaws, hammering… he’s driving me fucking crazy!!! I swear we’re back in apartments all over again! Or at least with a neighbor just an arm’s length away. When is this shit going to end??? And when it does, what will he sic next on me??? I want OUT of here!!!

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 2010 From the type of sound I heard yesterday and from what Tom’s theory is, all that loud hammering I heard pesky Jesse doing yesterday might’ve been him beating the muffler off to help make the truck quieter. I heard him start it up at 6:00 this morning, then again a couple of hours later. Yeah, it might be quieter, though it’s still audible. We never used to hear his other truck down here. The guy’s over 100’ away, too. That oughta tell you how noisy he gets.

The internet was down for 5 hours yesterday morning and cutting in and out like crazy for the rest of the day and night. I haven’t used it enough yet today to say how stable or unstable it is, but hopefully they’ve taken care of the problem.

Maliheh’s very busy, though I don’t know if she’s telling me this to avoid me or if I’m just being like Marie. I’d say she probably really is busy. Especially since she described having around 500 music books to sort through and organize in order to help her at work, 400 albums, 300 DVDs and 200 CDs. Plus a 3-foot tall stack of sheet music. So yeah, I’d say she’s probably busy and not making it up, and I also think she’s being honest about not getting all my emails, since others have said the same thing.

Haha, Dieter unfriended me on Facebook. It’s just as well since all he mostly does is complain. Twice I almost dropped him.

Later…

Well, el cocko’s home right now, since Brandy just raced by. But it’s early. He’ll gun out a couple more times before the day’s through.

Still not sure if the truck’s really any quieter, but as is the case almost every morning now, he got on my nerves enough earlier and so did Whiskey.

I’m sitting here thinking that a part of me wishes my parents would hurry up and die, but not just for whatever they may leave Tom and I. And I wish they would die together. That way one of them won’t have to be alone for a while, and that’ll make just one funeral people will be badgering me to go to and not two. But there’s no way in hell I’ll go to either one. Why should I? Just to see people I hate and end up feeling even worse than I already will? Or to end up in jail for kicking the crap out of anyone that so much as dares to even look at me wrong?

The other reason is so I can be done with Tammy. The only reason I’m being “kind” to her is so that she’ll be less likely to fuck me out of what’s due me in the end if I’m right about her being the one to execute the will.

The more I wish them dead, though, the longer they’ll live even though longevity doesn’t exactly run in my family. None of my grandparents made it past 75, so it’s kind of a surprise they’ve made it to 78 and 79. Then again, why should it be? Each generation tends to live longer than the last. Still, I should be careful about what I wish for. I just may not get it. Look how long I wished the queen would go belly up, yet it’s still alive and kicking at 87 unless she died and no one bothered to post her obit online. The Romes removed Steven’s for some reason.

Oh no, they didn’t remove it. I just checked again. I was looking up Steven before, but it’s Stephen – duh.

Anyway, if that queen doesn’t crap out by next August, my prediction for at least when she’ll die will be wrong. The good thing about knowing that she may make it to the 90s like Tom’s dad did is that this increases the chance of Tom living longer, and the only one her existence affects is Miss Perfect. She’s the one who’s got to deal with her and her selfishness unless she gets fed up enough to pawn her off on another family member or toss her in a nursing home.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2010 I’m selfish. I really am. I’m nothing but a cold-hearted bitch who puts herself before almost everyone and almost everything. But I did say almost. The more I care about you, the more I will want to aim to please you, and if you’re that good-looking on top of it, I just may stand on my hands all day for you if you asked me to. But if I don’t know you and I stumble across you bleeding to death, chances are I’m not going to try to save you unless there’s something to gain from it or there’s a chance you might bleed all over my favorite shirt or something like that. But as long as I don’t know or care about you and there’s nothing to gain from helping you and no favorite shirts at risk, then you’re welcome to continue on your merry way of bleeding to death. :) In other words, you “collectors” out there can take all your friend requests and shove them up your asses! Really, why would you want to be friends with someone who wishes her siblings would cease to exist so she doesn’t have to share her inheritance?

It’s just after 8am on Tuesday morning as I write this in Word, waiting for our internet connection to return so I can copy it into my blog. We recently had a big storm so hopefully all it is is them fixing whatever the storm may’ve damaged. It’s been down since 7:00. If it’s not back by noon I’ll call Tom and leave him a message.

I’ve been getting some surprising and unfortunate reports about people insisting they’ve been to my blog that has failed to show up on my tracker, and also a lack of a ‘leave comment’ button appearing on their end so they could leave comments. It explains some things, though. There have been times lately when I don’t get any traffic – or at least don’t appear to – for up to 5 hours at a time, which I thought was a bit weird. Between that and the lack of comments I just figured I was getting boring. Nothing exciting usually happens in my life. I’m just a middle-aged, happy but imaginative housewife who would never leave her hubby, but who also wishes she could be with someone she was never meant to have. And speaking of comments, I don’t want any saying she would’ve made my life hell and that I’d be so miserable I’d just want to die and all that shit! But that’s the extent of my life. I sit here wishing and waiting to be insured and to have a home of our own, away from annoying landlords. But I also enjoy doing the things I love to do, half the time with a rat on my shoulder, and interacting with those I care about, intimately or not.

Maliheh was one of those whom I finally heard from last night. She said she looked in on my blog twice that day and the day before as well, so my tracker was obviously not working at least for a while.

She was also unhappy – not mad – but unhappy that I mentioned her being on vacation, reminding me to please not mention anything we talk about. Of course I’ll try harder to remember not to mention even the most trivial things, but sometimes I get sick of people complaining and all the things they’ve been asking me to do or not to do lately. Maliheh doesn’t want things mentioned, Andy doesn’t want things mentioned, Dieter didn’t like how I used the word “motherfucker” in my status, but isn’t it supposed to be my journal and my status updates? Why do people bother reading these things if they’ve got a problem with them anyway? Dieter insisted he didn’t have a problem with me, just that one word, but in cases of things like this that can’t hurt us, wouldn’t it be easier not to read them than to complain? I can see how Maliheh would worry she could’ve lost her job over the story, but it just seems silly to complain over people’s use of words and if they say they’re on vacation of all things. Half the world is on vacation now!

Maliheh assured me, though, that that’s not why she hasn’t been around, but because she’s been busy instead, trying to get her place in order and taking Booty to the vet for minor surgery.

But I thought the second home organizer she had out to the house already got her place in order.

I’m sick of all tech issues! People flying under radar on my blog, emails never received, downloading/uploading issues… the list goes on and on. I wonder if the drama queen got the email I told her on FB I’d send her. It just seems odd that she wouldn’t respond, but so be it. I still don’t wish to be in touch with this person anyway.

I know this may be considered mean but I did a major Facebook friend cleanup job the other day, cutting my friend count from 47 to 31. I just wanted to keep those I’ve actually met or talked to and weed out the collectors.

Now that damn cock is hammering and slamming something around up there. It never takes a day off! We rented a house much older than this trailer up in Oregon and we had only a few problems in the two years we were there, yet there’s always something going on around here. Always. We are just sooo cursed in the neighbor department! And it’s obvious he’s not going to stop this shit anytime soon or get a new truck. So we’re back to the home-all-the-time neighbor that just can’t sit still for long. I’m kind of surprised, too. He was never home before, so I didn’t expect him to be home all the time all of a sudden.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 20, 2010 Wow, no messages or even blog peek-a-boos from Maliheh yesterday. I thought I’d hear more from her now that she’s on vacation. But I know there are a lot of storms going on that might’ve knocked her power out. It’s a miracle we didn’t lose power ourselves yesterday, though the net was slow at times. I’m glad I wasn’t asleep because we had hail and some pretty ferocious thunder, too.

But I got to wake up in pain instead. Yeah, I had another one of those killer toothaches. The kind I first think is connected to my ear. It was horrible and nothing seemed to help it at first. Why does God sic this shit on me so often? I practically drowned myself in a bottle of Aleve, but it took forever to dull the pain enough to fall asleep. Then I woke up a few hours later in pain once again and took some more Aleve. I fell back asleep pretty fast. When I got up for good it ached, but not nearly as bad, and right now I’m fine.

When I’m going through such pain I say, “Ok, this is it. I’ve got to get to a dentist – even if I have to pay for it myself – and deal with this shit once and for all.”

But when I’m not in pain I realize how much I’d hate to have to shove so much of our “savings” into my mouth, and that I would only be swapping in an old problem for a new one of some kind.

He did learn, however, that in just a couple of months, we’ll be eligible for paid holidays/vacations and insurance through the temp company if he doesn’t get hired on. It’s just that the temp company’s insurance would be more expensive.

Now, on with someone who’s too much a part of our everyday lives and who I expect to hear from any time now. Jesse. Tom talked to him yesterday when he came down for our latest problem and learned why he’s been driving this horrendously loud old truck lately. It also added one more “coincidence” to the ever-growing list of accidents, illnesses and injuries to those who have either annoyed me or screwed me over in some way. And again, I did not consciously wish for this to happen. Not quite anyway. I have sometimes wished Jesse would not get killed, but at least be in a wheelchair for a while so he can’t be tending the land and making so much noise.

First he came down on the ATV to pump water that had pooled by where the septic tank is, and to dig a trench to help guide it away. Apparently, when the idiot dragged that dead tree up to his place, it created a trench along the way for the rain to run down and pool at the septic. And Tom’s flushing the toilet 50 times when he clogged it up earlier didn’t help either, LOL, which we laughed about.

He’s been widening his driveway so he can turn around easier, so that’s part of the racket I’ve been hearing lately and why someone came to pick up trees. He’s just about done with this project, but that’s ok. Within a week or two we’ll just go right into a whole new project.

Anyway, Tom casually mentioned the truck he’d been driving and Jesse came out and asked if the police had been by. Tom said no and asked what he meant, and that’s when he told him that supposedly a deer popped out in front of him, causing him to lose control of his truck, roll over and total it. We wouldn’t be surprised if he were really drunk at the time. I know for a fact he drives drunk because that day we lost power and I was up there trying to get him to call the electric company, he was already blitzed and planning to head into the city for the night, which he no longer appears to be doing judging by the sound of the quiet Friday nights we’ve been having lately.

The point is that once again we’re wondering if I both consciously, but mostly unconsciously, influenced this to happen because he’d been doing a fine job of annoying the hell out of me lately. This happened right after the annoying as hell 5-hour bulldozing expedition I had to listen to. It’s kind of funny, but it’s not since I’m the one that has to deal with it by having to listen to him run and gun engines for nearly an hour a day when you consider that he comes and goes 3-6 times a day and does this for 10-15 minutes each time he leaves. And it’s another classic example of how I’m affected by the events in other people’s lives, but they’re never affected by mine.

Then there was the puppy, too. I was so pissed to learn of its existence, knowing I would then have to listen to 3 of them barking up a storm when he used to work instead of 2. Then ironically enough, it got run over.

I just wonder if he’s going to get a new truck once the insurance company pays out the value of the other one, which I would think they’re going to do.

The drama queen certainly wasn’t on disability and sniffing oxygen when she and her kids picked on me the summer before last. And funny how the tables have turned, too. She was picking on us for living in poverty and having nothing but a dingy old trailer in life back when she was pissed at me, yet now we’re doing pretty good while she’s on disability. Well, you don’t get shit from disability, so unless Mark’s making good money – and I hope for her sake he is – she’s looking at a lifetime of financial woes. I should know. I’ve been there before. From the mid-80s to the mid-90s.

Later…

It’s been a dryer, quieter day than I expected, though I did hear the truck a couple of times.

It’s Maliheh I’m getting a little worried about. After one day of not hearing from her, I thought she was just exhausted and catching up on her sleep. But after two days I’m thinking her wifi might be acting up. Or maybe something went wrong with her mother. I just hope she’s ok and that she’ll find a way to get word to me soon enough, whatever’s going on!

Do I think she dumped me? Well, anything’s possible, but I highly doubt it. If she got sick of me or upset with me for any reason, I would think she’d be the first to tell me. I will, however, admit it’s a bit odd that she should disappear, for whatever reason, at the start of her vacation.

Unfortunately, I have no way to track her online activity. We’re not Facebook friends, she doesn’t tweet, nor does she blog, so all I can tell is when she’s checking her mail and I haven’t seen her doing this.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 19, 2010 Are people getting the email messages I’ve sent them lately? And am I getting emails they’ve sent me? I really thought I’d hear from Maliheh yesterday, but never did. I sent her a message when I first got up yesterday, but there was nothing all day from her or waiting for me when I got up at 2am today. Oh well. Guess she’s been busy.

Got a Hanukah card with a 20-dollar bill in it from Mom and Dad which was very nice. :)

A transformer blew out somewhere around here. The wind and rain have been fierce. The lights dimmed for a second and then I heard the explosion. Tom said he didn’t hear anything, but as he was entering the drive on the way back from the store he saw a bright flash of light behind him. The internet’s been acting up, too.

I talked to Andy, Jessie, Doreen and Nane yesterday. Today I talked to Nane, Dieter, Mitch and Maria. Maria’s the one I went to Valleyhead with, in case you’re wondering, and Andy and Jessie are childhood friends. Doreen also went to the same so-called “school” Maria and I went to, but we never actually met because she was there in the 90s. I was there in the 80s. Doesn’t matter. There’s still a special sisterhood between Valleyheaders whether they knew each other or not.

Anyway, I think I’ve probably spent more time on Facebook in the last couple of days than in the last few months alone!

I was surprised and pleased to hear of the repeal of DADT yesterday. I didn’t think that damn thing would ever go away. But as I was saying to someone else who asked, I still think we have a long way to go for overall equality. You’ve got groups like blacks who have more rights than whites and groups like gays who have less than just about everybody. I’d like to see blacks no longer exempt from being charged with hate crimes and given special treatment in the workplace and the courts. And I’d like to see whites be able to have a White History Month if they want one without being called racists. Furthermore, I’d like to see gays be allowed to marry nationwide. But seeing is believing for me.

I went down 2½ pounds which is rather ironic since I ate like a pig yesterday, LOL. Tom says my expectations are too high and that it’s more reasonable to expect to lose a pound a week, not a pound a day.

That damn cock up the hill is still driving me nuts with the truck, coming and going, running and gunning the engine for 15 minutes at a time. I’m sorry, but no vehicle, no matter how old it is, needs to be revved up like that for that long or left to idle.

Tom doesn’t think he sold his other truck. God, I hope not!

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18, 2010 So much for thinking the rain would save me from Jesse’s shit. I not only had to sit and listen to his insanely loud truck warm-up for 10 minutes every time he would take off, but it also didn’t stop him from doing whatever the hell he’s been doing around here. I still can’t figure it out. I heard him start the thing up and do his little engine gunning thing, then I heard the truck start to move. I figured I’d see him come down his drive at that point through the trees, but instead, he was actually going up the drive. Then he came back down in reverse a few minutes later.

I just really hope to hell they hire him on because yeah, I’m ready to move. I’m sick of his shit and there always, always being something going on here! But after dealing with this shit for over 2½ years now, I know nothing’s going to change. He just can’t sit still for long. And I’m sure that even though it’s the weekend, and even if he doesn’t work on the land, I’ll still have to hear the fucking truck come and go 6 times today.

At this point, I think it’s pretty safe to say he sold his other truck. Now that he’s retiring – and knowing how much he loves loud vehicles – I’m sure he’d prefer a loud, old piece of shit to go with his cars, motorcycles, dirt bikes and bulldozers.

I know we’ll never escape the neighbor noise curse no matter how much we try to distance ourselves from others, and so I’m ready to start looking for a bigger, newer place. If we’re just going to have to listen to it no matter where we go, we may as well do it at 1000 square feet instead of 500.

Yesterday I said we were going to lose 4 days of pay, but we’re actually going to lose 2. He works 4 days next week and 4 after that. There I was all psyched for him to work, not just for obvious reasons, but so I could have more time alone, and then he starts when we have tons of holidays, LOL. Then again, the holiday season is the worst time to be on unemployment when the checks are delayed and there’s the potential for things to get lost.

On the bright side, they started training him yesterday on the most complicated testing equipment in his department, which helps make us think they’re not going to get rid of him after the first of the year. But will they hire him? It’s still a common practice these days to hire temps that never get hired on. I just wish someone would finally hire him on so I could get to a fucking dentist! If not I’ll have to either continue to suffer or we’ll pay for it ourselves.

The rat, as usual, has me wanting to strangle him at the same time he cracks me up. He has this habit of licking the condensation off the slider, and he’s decided that he loves lapping up water like a dog so much instead of drinking from the spout of his water bottle, that he should chew holes in the corners of his bottle so he can lap it up. Yeah, that’s how smart rats are. The bottle is sort of square-shaped, and he chewed holes in the top front corners and even tilted the bottle so he could reach the water easier, the damn little devil! That’s an expensive bottle, too. So I took it out before he could fuck it up even more and gave him a bowl of water to lap from.

What was funny as hell was that yesterday he’d just jumped onto the couch when I said, “You want to go outside?” and wiggled the doorknob. He leaped off the couch, flew across the room, and was jumping up and down by the door, LOL. I don’t know what his obsession with the outdoors is all about, but of course I won’t let him out there in case the dogs or any cats go by. I just open the door a tiny crack so he can sniff the outdoors.

Maliheh had another home organizer go to her place who she says really knows her stuff. They got a lot done in a few hours, she told me. She must have a ton of extra money to be able to afford such services!

Later…

I decided to allow tracking of Molly's activity just to see where she goes. She appears to open a lot of old entries when she’s not sitting there refreshing the page over and over again. Today, however, she must have somewhat of a life because she’s not accessing my blog every few minutes as usual. I’ll block her from tracking again when I get sick of her.

Aside from a couple of engine gunning sprees (yeah, 7 days a week that’s going to be the story of our lives), and the cold, wind and rain, today’s been a fun day. Tom and I are enjoying some sweet treats, the rat’s been loads of fun, and I had a lovely chat with Nane.

She’s bored and wishing I was snowed in with her and her champagne. As hot as she is, I’m glad I’m not! LOL, I’d love to meet her, but not in the snow. I’ll pass on the champagne, too.

She cracks me up big time. Yeah, she had me laughing so damn hard because they measure weight and height differently in Europe and she was telling me she was 5’ 8”, just a “little” taller than me, and she weighs 369 pounds, LMAO! She was just joking, though. In reality, she’s about 140 pounds.

She also had me cracking up when I was talking about the states I’ve lived in and she commented about me being a Midwestern ratgirl. I said, “That’s not the Midwest, silly!” But she doesn’t know her geography very well. That’s ok. Neither do I. I’ve only recently been learning my way around Europe, though her beloved Turkey and Greece fall just below Europe, sort of in the Middle East.

I told her that after we take the Italy trip, I’ll enter to win a trip to the Munich area and leave it to fate, though I sure as hell ain’t going there in the winter!

When she lived here when she was 23 she came to not like the US and hasn’t been here since. She said that was when she was still young and pretty. As I told her, she may not be young, but she’s still pretty. And she told me I looked pretty as hell and was very attractive. Well, I don’t think so, but I’m flattered she does. And even though she doesn’t have the dark eyes I thought she had. She said they’re actually more like a bluish-gray. Wow, I didn’t know that. They look brown in her pictures. So now she and Maliheh both lack something. Nane lacks the dark eyes and Maliheh lacks the height.

Speaking of Maliheh, I had hoped to hear from her today, but so far nothing’s come in from her. Oh well, maybe later. She seems to prefer doing email at night anyway.

Back to Nane. She is so sweet. Why couldn’t I have had fun with people like her before I got married? Because true lust wasn’t meant to be, that’s why. It’s nothing new or anything I don’t know.

I like how she’s 95% reality and just 5% flirtatious. Marie was 50% dirty talk and 50% paranoia which was definitely a bit much for me, LOL.

Anyway, she hates Germany and is looking forward to retiring to Greece or Turkey someday. I don’t blame her. She posted pictures of her neighborhood which is covered in snow. I sent her the link to the satellite image of our place. The same one I sent Maliheh a few days ago. She said she can see the chairs on her terrace on Google Earth.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 17, 2010 I now have Molly’s physical address. I gave her an ultimatum in my blog, knowing she’ll read it, and that’s that if she ever contacts me again, I will decide at that time whether to contact her local police department and file a formal complaint (this isn’t likely knowing how worthless the pigs can be) or to plaster her address all over the internet. It’s her choice. If she does not wish for any of these things to happen, then she will never contact me again. She can look, she can “like,” she can follow, she can read, but she cannot and will not contact me ever again by any means on any site at any time.

I’m trying to help give my schedule a little push to shove it ahead a little further so Maliheh and I can both be on vacation together, so to speak. But by the end of next week, I should be back to being up in the evenings anyway. That’s our prime time. :) I know we’ll both still have other things we gotta do, but it’ll still be nice to be vacationing at the same time.

We’re going to lose 4 days of pay for the rest of the month – fucking holidays! But we made sure not to spend any extra money, so we’ll be ok.

Ask was rocking with tons of questions yesterday. Except for any asstrolls interfering, it was kinda fun. I’ve already answered nearly 100 questions. Wonder if any of them were from Maliheh, though they were a bit too well-written for her.

When I heard that damn truck start up and saw it head down the drive at just 7:00 yesterday morning, I thought to myself, you gotta be kidding! Now? He’s going to work on the land now this early and at 37º? But he left and didn’t come back till around noon. Either someone was there or he took the dogs with him because I never once heard any barking.

It’s obvious he either sold, loaned, or is having work done on his other truck, which sucks. This old one he’s been driving is much too loud. And because it’s old he sits there running and gunning it forever. And I’m sick of all the land activity! He was flying around on the ATV, then Tom saw some truck in the drive gathering trees. It’s someone he hired to do it. I guess maybe they mulched the wood or something, but when oh when are we going to have fewer outdoor projects to have to deal with? Not for the next 5 days, I hope, because it’s going to be raining through Tuesday. And since I’m going to be crashing in the late afternoon, I shouldn’t have to deal with tonight’s barking fit if he’s still spending Friday nights in the city.

Later…

Our little engine gunner just came out to run and gun the fucking truck for 10 minutes. I know older vehicles take longer to fire up, but 10 minutes?! And I think he simply turned it off in the end too, and never went anywhere. What, is he just doing it just do it? Just to get attention or something? If he really did go anywhere, though it didn’t sound like he did, someone must be staying with him because the dogs are quiet and I doubt he’d take them with him in the rain. Really wish we could just go a whole day without hearing from him!

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 16, 2010 You would think I would’ve learned by now not to be dumb enough to post links here or anywhere else where Molly might see them, but it’s too late now. I signed up at a site similar to Formspring called Ask. I tipped Aly and Kim off and they joined soon afterward. And Molly was quick to follow us.

Will someone please help me to understand stalkers? I never would’ve thought I’d be stalked by someone I don’t even know. I thought stalkers usually stalked those they’re at least somewhat acquainted with other than in cases of celebrity stalking. Yet here I am being stalked by a virtual stranger who’s only latched onto me because she was once friends with her main target. And even though I, as well as others, are clearly being stalked, it’s all being kept within “reasonable” limits that can’t legally be classified as stalking, even though that’s exactly what it is because I have made it clear to this person that I don’t want anything to do with them. Yet they keep their contact minimal enough and non-threatening enough for us to be able to do anything about it.

I just don’t get it, though. Why would anyone want to put their energy into following and harassing those who don’t want any contact from them instead of putting that energy into interacting with those who do? There are so many people out there who want to know us that I just don’t see the point. Is it the thrill of the chase or something that turns these people on? But why? There’ll be no capture in the end, so why chase what you can’t catch?

If Maliheh ever told me to fuck off I’d be hurt and I’d miss her, but I’d also be quick to respect her wishes. No one’s obligated to remain in my life any more than I’m obligated to remain in theirs, and I know this.

Ask has no block feature, believe it or not, so I’ll deactivate the account if the abuse gets bad.

Haven’t chatted with Maliheh in a few days now – fucking schedule curse! – but I hope we will soon. I miss her, but she’s always on my mind just the same. :) She sure was when we were looking at land for sale in the area just to get an idea of what’s out there. Tom said it was surprisingly cheaper than he thought it would be, too. Well, we still don’t know if we’ll end up in a senior community or on acreage, but the fantasies sure turned themselves on at the thought of us living on a 10-acre parcel with a trailer or some other place on it that we rented to Maliheh, LOL. She’d make the perfect neighbor! Yeah, I know. It’s just a fantasy. But it sure is a fun one!

She was in really late, like at around 2am her time. Hope she wasn’t waiting up for me and losing sleep for nothing! I’d say she just couldn’t sleep. I sent her an email letting her know I miss her but hope to catch her this weekend and on her vacation.

I got to laugh at Nane when I saw her cold, snowy weather forecast. It was cool to see it in German and to be able to understand it, too. My weather is like a sauna to her, she said, LOL. She and I decorated each other’s walls again and then I ended up sleeping forever. Like 10-11 hours. I had a million dreams, but none of Maliheh.

The rat “helped” me dust the living room yesterday, chasing after the duster and things like that. He is so damn cute! It’s so funny how he runs to the door when I say, “wanna go outside?” But of course I won’t let him in case a cat goes by.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 2010 Been playing tag with my GF for a couple of days now due to our schedules clashing, but even though we haven’t chatted “live” we’ve swapped a few messages just to touch base. And she “checks in” too, which lets me know she’s alive and well and puts a smile on my face while she’s at it.

I was off to a slow start when I got up. I usually update my status right away so people can know when I’m awake and what I’m up to, but I was lazy at first.

I got up just after 8:30, went to check for messages, saw she was on, then sent a message. But as soon as I sent it, she went offline. Or so I thought. I forget she has multiple computers which I realize – duh – is why she doesn’t always get overwritten on my stats list. It not only recognizes individual IPs but individual browsers as well. Anyway, I figured she’d gone to bed so I went off to shower and do other things. But then she sent a picture of her cat with a Christmas hat on. It was cute, but I wish she’d send pics of herself! Hopefully, she’s been getting the messages she hasn’t responded to, but I think it’s safe to say she has.

I both hate and like being on nights. On nights our schedules clash, but I don’t have to listen to Jesse’s shit so much either. But now that I’m staying up till the early afternoons, he’s been on my nerves again. I thought I heard something running for a few minutes up there at 9:30, but whatever it was wasn’t as loud and vibrant as what I heard Monday, and it didn’t last as long. It was rainy and windy yesterday, so that’s why it was quieter. It’ll be fairly dry and in the 50s for the rest of the week, so I’m sure he’ll drive me crazy enough then. Gotta keep the sound machines on just to concentrate on my writing. But the good thing is knowing that the next 8 or 9 hours will be nice and quiet. :)

When I saw Maliheh’s forecast I pretty much struck her state from the possibilities list, LOL. Sorry, but I just can’t see myself moving to where it gets down to 16º at night!

Tom said it’d be better to look on Craigslist than rent.com since rent.com does mostly apartments and condos. I should’ve thought of that too, as that’s how we found this place. Still not sure it’s worth moving, especially if we really are buying a place in less than two years, but it doesn’t hurt to keep my eyes open as to what’s out there. I’m not only sick of Jesse, but I’m also sick of being crammed into such bummy old places! Oh, to have a full-size washer/dryer readily hooked up, a dishwasher and an extra bathroom! I miss those things and I hate having to pee when he’s in the shower. And I would really love 3 bedrooms but would settle for 2.

The situation with actor Rip Torn is a reminder of why I rarely read the news. It only pisses me off. He gets 5 minutes of probation for storming a bank drunk armed while I got 6 months in jail and 2 years of probation for a threatening letter I never sent. Why is it that the more serious the crime, the less you pay? If that’s the case I oughta just go up and run Jesse over with his fleet of vehicles and shut him up that way! I’ll only get a slap on the wrist for it, so why not?

I’m working on a few writing projects now, some of which I can share and others which I’m not at liberty to share. Not sure if I’m going to post any more of the ones I can share since I’m still not sure where I’m going with it. Unlike most authors, I let the story lead me more than I lead it. Yes, I start off with some general ideas, but I don’t have the nitty-gritty details all mapped out up front like most writers, and with just under 1000 words, I’d say it hasn’t led me very far yet.

I’m so sick of being hungry just to not lose much weight that only comes right back and have decided to just accept the fact that I was meant to be big just like 99% of those over 30. I know not dieting means I’ll gain a pound a day for life instead of just not losing weight like most people who don’t diet, but I was the one that said I’d like to even out our lifespans after all by not being so damn healthy since women usually live a decade longer than men and I’m almost a decade younger than Tom. Getting humungous will be a much more fun way to ruin my health than returning to smoking would be. And cheaper too, since I don’t exactly have to eat like a pig to do it with my barely functioning metabolism. Oh yes, high blood pressure here I come!

Tom installed blackout corners on my laptop now that they’ve finally got a program for Vista. This way I can listen to music in the dark like I prefer and not have to put that stupid box cover over the screen so it’s not so damn bright.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 13, 2010 Jesse’s been running and gunning loud engines, as usual, and getting on my nerves like he loves to do every other day. I looked on rent.com, but there is not one single house for rent in this town or any of the neighboring towns. It’s all apartments and condos. Am I missing something? Besides, I’m still not sure I want to go and pay a few hundred more in rent just because we can and take a chance at ending up someplace noisier.

There’s a 70% chance of rain today, so hopefully that’ll shut him up. Only the rain and the heat seems to keep him quiet. Every other dry day that’s under 85º I gotta hear some kind of shit coming from up there. I expected him to be noisy today because I hadn’t heard from him in a few days. I just didn’t think he’d spoil the peace and break my concentration (I was working on one of my stories) at 8:00. He usually doesn’t start his shit till between 9:00 - 11:00. Wish it could rain every day that I’m on days when it’s not summer!

Didn’t talk to Maliheh but she checked my blog once which was nice. That way I don’t have to worry that anything’s wrong. No guarantees I’ll be up before she crashes tomorrow night, though, as I told her.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 12, 2010 My hair is now the perfect shade of dark brown. It’s dark and sexy, but not so dark that it looks witchy against my light skin.

But I was only down half a pound today, so that’s not good. At least the scale’s not going up. Decided to try running in place super fast for two minutes every half hour. That way I’ll get nearly an hour’s worth of exercise a day without jarring my joints so much or getting all sweaty.

Eileen is both happy and sad lately. A good childhood friend killed himself that named her to execute his will, so she had to fly down to Dallas to be sworn in.

But all three of her kids are expecting. How weird. I mean, what are the odds with fewer people having kids, particularly marrieds? But she is happy because as she said, she gets to play with them and send them home.

Once again we decided to put a hold on trying to sell the Beanie Babies until the economy picks up. There are just too many of them not selling. There was a 250-lot that was only at $26, and we don’t want to just give them away. We have given and we have done enough for others at our expense. Excluding those I care about, now it’s time to be a little selfish and do for us.

Still not sure about staying here until we buy our forever home, wherever that may be. I hate being cramped in here, and yes, we can now afford a nicer place, but the dogs have been quieter since Jesse’s been out of work, and this is about as cheap as it gets for California. I like the money we can save here and it sure would be more convenient if the next stop could be to our own home. All we pay is $825 in rent, a couple hundred a year for propane, $15 a month for the next year for our DSL, plus food, gas and cell phone time. We don’t have an electric or a water bill and everything is in Jesse’s name, including the internet. We don’t get our mail here but have been getting free service where we do get it for over a year now, LOL, as they keep forgetting to charge us.

I’m both happy for and proud of someone special right now. :) IDK, maybe I am a little in love. Quite often silence speaks a thousand words, though her not saying anything one way or another about my feelings for her only serves to add to the mystery. Why keep in touch every day with someone you supposedly only like as a friend? And who needs a friend that bad that they’d bother with someone on the other side of the country? Could it be guilt over her going off on me in the past and not giving us a chance? Something else? She both “acts” and doesn’t “act” like it’s mutual, so as usual, I don’t know what to make of her.

Anyway, she said the show went well, is glad it’s over, and is proud of her kids. Wow, so she teaches kids? Didn’t think she’d have the patience for that, LOL.

Mutual or not, I decided to give her a whole day off from saying anything flirty or dirty, LOL.

Sometimes when we talk I go to tell her something about myself and find myself wishing she’d read my bio so I didn’t have to go through it again. But not everyone likes to read and she’s one of them. This is ok too, as we all have our likes and dislikes. But then I got the idea to copy/paste snippets of my bio into my blog and include them in my regular entries a little at a time. And it wouldn’t be just so she can get to know me better, but for others as well who might not have tuned in until later on in this blog’s life. It’ll be a reintroduction of sorts. I’ll make sure not to copy too much at once so it won’t be too much reading for her or for anyone else.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 11, 2010 Chatted with Maliheh earlier. I gotta admit that girl cracks me up with the way she puts up with some of the shit I say, particularly the more suggestive stuff. At the same time, it’s a bummer it’s not reciprocated, it’s kinda funny how she simply ignores it and goes right on as if I never said anything of the kind, LOL. She is one tough and tolerant lady! I try to limit my flirting, though, and even in cases where the attraction is mutual, like with Nane and I, too much is too much even if it’s a good thing.

One of the things I love most about her is that she has never tried to change me. Not anything about me personally, not the way I think, not the way I live – nothing.

As much as she loves her job, she’s glad she has only a week left till vacation, learned a friend of a fellow musician from long ago died of cancer, and doesn’t believe she herself would bother to fight if she learned she had stage 3 cancer. She said the chemo thing doesn’t interest her, so she’d sell all her stuff and spend her final days in Hawaii.

I wouldn’t even fight stage 1. At my age, I’ve lived long enough and I gotta go someday anyway. So why make myself even more miserable just to maybe survive? I’d just blast music, write up a storm, and eat like a pig!

She was an armed guard at a bank for a while as well as for Capitol Records down in L.A. which she said was no fun since she doesn’t like guns.

Her mother’s got ALS which is a terrible disease to have from what I read and won’t live more than 3-5 years. Both her parents were/are unhealthy with mainly heart and circulatory problems. Her mother was so heavy people constantly asked when she was due. But she was adopted and knows nothing about her bio folks, so she’s not so worried about getting these things herself.

Tomorrow night’s the show, which she says she’ll be glad is finally done and over with. Wish I could be there to see it!

She also asked more about my sleep patterns, saying it’s hard to tell when I sleep. I explained a little more about it and also sent her a link explaining it more in detail.

She said it’s been raining and she was able to take a peaceful nap today as that’s the only time the dogs are taken indoors. Not here! She also sleeps with a fan on cuz she can’t stand outside noise.

Got kind of warm out today and I had to sleep with the fan on myself. It’ll be near 70º tomorrow. Wish I weren’t on nights, but nights are great for writing!

Hulu is really pissing me off lately with all their damn commercials. And now I can’t watch any Lifetime movies until next year because all they’re having this month are Christmas-related movies. When are people going to realize that not everyone is into this Christmas shit? I can’t wait for this year to end! I hate how Christmas does nothing but disrupt and delay things. December needs to be removed from the calendar completely.

On the bright side, it may be a good time to finally get rid of some of the Beanie Babies, so we’re going to start listing them again tomorrow.

Tom started to come down with a cold, but I was able to kill it before it could set in.

I had a dream where I was back in my old apartment in 1990 playing the intro to the Guns & Roses song Sweet Child O’ Mine on the guitar (yeah, I used to play that shit), and a two-second dream of Maliheh.

I decided that I had to take a day off from dieting yesterday rather than wait till today. I expected a two-pound setback but only gained back one. Been up since 6pm and there’s no eating allowed till 2am. I try to have my few hundred calories a day during the middle of my day. If it gets really bad in between I’ll have coffee or fruit. Had a few pretzels earlier with the rat.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 10, 2010 Tom went for an eye exam after work today and is getting both progressive and reading glasses next week. The whole thing came to something like $160.

It’s so not fair! He’s older than me yet his eyes are better! He barely needs glasses at all. Because he’s nearsighted his eyes are improving with age. Mine are so bad I worry they won’t be correctable in another 10-20 years.

Woke up at the same weight today. That’s because yesterday I got so hungry and rundown that I had to eat. I still stayed under 1000 calories but I had twice as much as the day before. So today I gotta starve a little harder if I want to drop anymore. I’m not a stupid idiot, though, either. I’m not going to let myself get sick. If I start getting to where I’m having trouble functioning, I’ll eat. I plan to eat anyway, I just want to wait till the middle of my day, and it’s only going to be a few bites if I can help it. But you can bet I’ll be slamming on all the burgers, fries and truffles in my dreams!

I might have to eat every other day, though I’ve been going easy on the exercise. Been doing enough to keep in shape and keep my muscles toned, but not so much that I make myself even hungrier.

I’m wearing Honey Rain perfume now. It’s kind of interesting. I like it but I don’t think I’ll add it to my favorites list. The honey vanilla smells just like my honey vanilla coffee creamer, mmm…

I want to be a ghost when I die. Not some unhappy restless spirit, but a playful one that gets to pull all kinds of fun pranks. I always thought the idea of being able to “tap” someone on the shoulder while another person watched them freak out over it and wonder if they were losing their mind would be loads of fun, LOL.

So here’s to hoping to “hide” someone’s car keys or something in the afterlife while I continue to go hungry in this one!

Nane rocks. But Maliheh rocks harder. The more I learn the more I really like that girl. We have more in common. Nane’s sweet, smart and maybe a little better-looking, but all we have in common is our love for languages. As far as I know anyway.

For 20 years I saw Maliheh as just a great-looking bitch. Now I see her as a great-looking bitch with a real brain in her head. She even makes me laugh at times. It’s a nice fresh breath of air too, considering all the brainless idiots out there these days.

Maliheh’s still a bit rundown herself but is looking forward to her vacation in 10 days. She said she just wanted to check in so I didn’t think she was really sick.

She got her first computer only a few years ago and believes there’s got to be an afterlife because there’s energy in everything.

She went to KFC and has a propane headache. She got her tank filled and the place reeked so bad of it that she called them back out to make sure the place wasn’t going to blow up.

She gets a kick out of my Formspring answers but wishes her electronics weren’t on the fritz. She wonders if her musician friend that died is fucking with her as a prank. Enough to irritate her but not cause her any harm. Those are mean pranks if he is.

She was woken up by her security company to be told she owes money that she doesn’t owe and ended up cussing them out for it, too. Guess there’s been a crime wave in her area where they kick in the door and grab what they can, so she got an alarm installed. She doesn’t do guns but keeps a can of wasp spray by her bed, saying it sprays 27’, can do permanent damage, and if they had that on the 911 planes and in schools where there have been massacres there’d be a lower death rate.

That sounds like a damn good idea; using wasp spray as mace. I think we may have some. Didn’t we get a can up in the Klam? Anyway, it’s good if there are too many intruders or one that’s armed. I will look for it tomorrow and put it in a handy spot just in case.

Later…

Swapped messages with Nane and learned another German word too, while I was at it.

I’m down another pound and getting used to my diet, but I still get plenty hungry at times. I try not to eat until it gets really bad. Fortunately, it’s not taking as much to fill me up these days as my tummy’s shrunk. I’m going to allow myself to take a break tomorrow, but only for one day, since even just one day off means putting back on 2 of the 4 pounds I’ve lost.

Some were debating whether or not it was ok to get upset if it turns out we’re not what someone wants that we happen to like. It was an interesting discussion in a forum on another site. I say don’t “blame” someone for not wanting you. It’s ok to be bummed that they don’t (sort of how I feel about Maliheh), but while some people’s reasons for not desiring us may seem silly, unfair and even cruel, we can’t help what we like/dislike. So you can’t really fault someone for something they don’t have much control over, but that’s just my opinion.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 8, 2010 Oh, wow. Just wow. :))) Nane got the most flirtatious ever with me, LOL. I sent her a message about a dirty dream I had where I was “lost” in Germany and she and I had all kinds of fun while waiting for Tom to “drive” over and get me. And she did it in public on her wall too, about how she’d show me my way home if I weren’t so far away. Amazing coming from someone who’s not crazy, but maybe that’s because she’s halfway around the world, LOL.

I sent her a flirty email too, but she might not get it till she wakes up.

The disturbing dream was the one where Tom and I were at a grocery store where he was cashing an unemployment check. Yet he said that they started training him for even more sophisticated jobs at work, so that’s a good sign. They seem to hire people on in groups. We just hope he’s next in January!

When I woke up 8 hours ago at noon I was shocked and pissed to see I was up a couple of pounds after being back on my usual diet and exercise routine for a couple of days. So that’s when I said, fuck it. I just won’t eat. I’m tired, cold and hungry and I know it’s not healthy, but it’s working! Wish I could stand to do this in 5-pound increments. Lose 5 pounds, eat a few days, lose 5 more pounds, etc.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2010 I’m surprised but pleased not to hear from Tammy today. But if the doctors find anything bad with her on Wednesday I’m sure she’ll contact me for sympathy.

Poor Alison, though. She still has cancer but her body is currently too weak for any more radiation therapy. So they’re giving her pills to block estragon which can make cancer worse, then she’ll have to undergo more radiation.

At the end of Maliheh’s last email this evening she wrote: “over and out.” She always signs off with that signature “over and out” of hers.

She was in the army. Bet she looked great in those army fatigues. :)

She doesn’t teach vocals, just guitar and bass guitar.

She says NorCal isn’t for her.

She says she had a love/hate relationship with her father and that it wasn’t all sour grapes. He actually took good care of her and her mom till he checked out.

She was a big Western fan growing up, loved the desert and the night sky there, particularly Monument Valley, a place I’ve never been to, and says she’s had enough ocean for her lifetime. She may vacation in the desert someday. I told her that if she travels within 1000 miles of me and doesn’t stop by, I’ll be pissed, LOL. Tom said 1000 miles is still a long way, so I said ok, make it 500 miles.

On my wall Nane asked, Wann war Dein Geburtstag, Schätzchen? (when was your birthday, honey?) I told her but never heard back from her.

I’m a brunette again. Ah, it looks a lot better than the blond did. :)

Tom was reading an article on rats and apparently, the squeaking we can hear them do at times is quite low-pitched for them. When they’re happy they squeak at a frequency too high for humans to hear. Same with mom and baby rats. They talk to each other at levels we can’t hear.

Speaking of rats, I gotta give mine a bath since he has no roommates to clean him. Although rats are great swimmers I’m not sure he’ll like that very much, though he will probably appreciate how much cleaner he’ll feel after. Rats’ coats get kind of greasy if another rat or a person doesn’t clean them. I haven’t spent much time with him today, so a little quality time with my favorite vermin couldn’t hurt. :)

Got up just after 1:00 today, just in time for Jesse’s shit, but now I don’t think what I’ve been hearing lately is the bulldozer. Instead, it’s an old pickup that’s quite loud. Yeah, I can’t keep track of all his vehicles! He’d been keeping the back of it by the side of the drive, and Tom said it was back there again on his way in from work. Before that, though, it was attached to its cab. I got up, got my coffee and thought wow, what a quiet day for a sunny weekday that’s not over 85º. Then I heard the ATV and thought, oh no, here we go with the bullshitter! But when I stepped outside to go running I saw him go up and down in the truck, then I heard what sounded like him tossing something into the back of it. It also smelled like he was burning brush. There’s only so much brush to gather, though, in the areas it matters. Could he be gathering firewood? It seems he always has to be doing something. :(

I was laughing when I saw Andy and Maliheh’s 5-cast. Andy’s getting snow and lows in the teens. Maliheh’s not as bad off, but she’s not like us either, LOL. We’ll be 20º warmer all week.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 6, 2010 I didn’t expect to do another entry today, but I thought I’d jot down some feelings that are weighing rather heavily on my mind.

First, though, people have been asking me lately why I hate the number 4 so much. Well, it not only has been associated with some rather unpleasant events in my life, but some cultures also believe it’s an unlucky number, the Japanese in particular.

I was born on the 4th and a lot of my life has sucked.

In the projects I was in that caused me to have a breakdown before I left New England altogether, there were 4 kids next to me who helped drive me to that breakdown during the 4 months I was there.

In those final years before I quit smoking, I would often wake up 4 hours into my sleep with an asthma attack. The one that nearly killed me was on the 4th floor when I lived in apartment #14 in a building in Springfield, MA.

In our Phoenix house, a Mormon family moved in next door. They also had 4 kids and they also drove me out of my fucking mind.

Two years later they moved. Then on March 4th of 1996, even worse neighbors moved in.

Three years later on June 4th, we got yet even worse neighbors.

In 2004 we lost our home in Arizona. That was on Lot 40. Our lives were horrible at this place, and yes, there was a 4 in our address there.

A few months later we lost our parcel of land in Oregon before we could build a dome house on it as planned. That was Unit 4 of the Klamath Falls Forest Hills Estate.

When we moved into this trailer, which once lived in a real trailer park, there was a ‘4’ on the side of it. It bugged me, but Tom assured me it was meaningless. Then he got laid off and our lives got progressively shittier. I made him chisel the evil number off and slowly things got better.

In the end, I’m just so glad I wasn’t born on 4/4/44!

Thoughts of both my sister and Maliheh have left me with some seriously mixed emotions. The emotions I feel where Tammy’s concerned are very different than what I’m feeling for Maliheh, of course.

With Tammy, it’s simpler. I don’t want to get too close because I don’t want to be burned again and it’s just not easy getting over the past. Getting someone in jail in the past, then trying to do it again is HUGE. So as I told her (when I replied to a message she sent letting me know she had some health problems), I’m here but will be keeping my distance. Sometimes people get along better that way. And as I also told her, due to the age difference, the distance and not knowing each other very well, we should leave the kids out of it, more or less. That way we don’t get into the he-said-she-said game. I wish them the very best, but I’m no “aunt” to anyone any more than I’m anyone’s great-grandmother. And I’m ok with that and accepting the areas in life in which I fall short. I gave her an update on our lives, wished her well and that’s pretty much it for now. I think her youngest is a mean little bitch and I just don’t want or need the drama.

I was telling Maliheh, who can’t wait for the Christmas show she and her students are putting on to be over with, of my problems with Tammy and asked for her advice. Then she told me that while she had an ok childhood, her father checked out later on in life while she was in high school and she came to really hate him. And while she pretended to love him and let him die thinking she did, she laughed at his funeral and spit on his grave. She said “family” is the other F word, and because she was adopted, maybe that’s why she sees family differently. They never even cared to help her when she was homeless, though she refuses to do the same. That means that she took care of business when her dad died and she helped make sure her mother was ok. She said that just because she was my sister didn’t mean I had to love her, but that’s just the cold-hearted bitch in her.

This was when I thanked her for being the same cold-hearted bitch I am and told her that I laughed when I read of Tammy’s problems. Yeah, maybe karma does bite my perps on the ass, though just not always as hard as I’d like. I guess the doctors (if she’s not being a hypochondriac as usual). I guess she’s got lung problems and is on disability and on oxygen. She’s going back to Yale to have a “pain pump put in her abdomen,” whatever the hell that means. It’d be nice if she died so there’d be just 2 of us to share the inheritance (if there is one) and not 3, but I couldn’t get that lucky.

On with Maliheh. I realize she’s more responsible than I thought she was. I pictured her dumping every woman she was ever with as soon as they pissed her off and not believing in working things out and unconditional love and all that. But she said no, she’s the one that got dumped by the few she ever cared about. They cheated on her and it hurt so much that’s why she never did it herself or believed in physical abuse. She said she wanted to try again, but they just kept cheating and then they dumped her. She said she’ll stomp, moan, bitch and scream, but who doesn’t say mean, hurtful things every now and then when they’re pissed?

This leaves me to wonder – is she ever sorry that we didn’t work out? Does she ever wonder if maybe I’d have been the one and I’d have been good to her and we might still be together if she’d given me a chance? I wish she had some regrets just like I do, but I don’t think she does. Especially since she said she enjoyed our chat, as usual, but likes it when we talk about the way things truly are and is happy I have Tom. In other words, she’s glad I have him because she still doesn’t want me.

I have really come to like the person she is. I like the fire within her and her honesty. I think men make better “quiet” types. I’ve come to see that we have some things in common and that she’s not what I thought she was all about. And while I know and accept the fact that all we can and will ever be is just friends which is certainly way more than I ever expected, I’m not going to sit here and lie about my feelings either. It hurts that we’re not into each other in the same way. It hurts that she’ll never come out and tell me she’s attracted to me. It hurts that she’ll never tell me she has feelings for me. It hurts knowing that if I was suddenly single and in her town, she would still only want to be just my friend. But I’m very glad to have her as a friend and a part of my life just the same. I just wish it wasn’t so hard on me at times and so frustrating. I’d never want to change the way my life is or give up Tom, but I’m sorry we didn’t work out or can’t be more than friends right now. It sucks loving things the way they are but also wishing they could be different if that makes a damn bit of sense. I would have been good to her and not cheated or anything like that, but I just wasn’t the one for her. Never was, never will be. I just hope she meets her Miss Right unless she prefers going solo. I would feel a tinge of jealousy, yes, but I would be happy for her just like she’s happy I have Tom.

So that was pretty much what we talked about before she went to bed saying that while she does love Christmas carols, if she never hears “Jingle Fucking Bells” again, it would suit her just fine, LOL.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 5, 2010 I hate to start an entry off on a sour note, but I feel I must warn you about Molly Rose M. She and a friend of hers have been following, stalking and harassing Alison, Kim and myself for some time now, and this very sick and obsessive person tends to do the same to our friends. This is how she latched onto me; through Alison. Not that I blame Alison one bit.

Lastly, and to make it clear to everyone out there, I do not know this person or why she harasses people. I have never been friends with this person, I have never wanted to be friends with this person, nor do I ever plan to be friends with this person. Why she has continued to follow and contact me after I have clearly made it known to her that I want nothing to do with her, is beyond me. She will simply go down the line of friends like a chain letter from friend to friend, stalking and harassing them one by one. Therefore I recommend that no one leave me their Facebook link, for example, if you don’t want your friend’s friend to be followed and badgered by this nut month after month, year after year. Be sure to only send links and other personal info in PMs only!

Tammy messaged me on Facebook saying she thought today was the 4th and that she hoped I had a good birthday yesterday. I thought it odd after all that she would forget. So I told her no problem, and yeah, it was fun.

I heard from Mitch too, but what I don’t get is why he sent me a message at my mail.com account. I didn’t even know he had that addy, and since we’ve always kept in touch on Yahoo, I was kind of surprised. It’s just too bad he’s still not doing well. He’s still out of work, depressed, and with a bad back and an ailing mother.

It’s pretty rainy out and the frogs are croaking up a storm. This is the first time this year I’ve heard them.

Today and yesterday have been amazingly pain-free in the ear and tooth department, so I can’t complain there.

No interesting dreams either, other than one where we were living somewhere along the east coast and Tom was flying to work in England. We were even talking about moving there, nothing I’d ever want to do in real life. It’s too cold and wet there. It’s cold and wet enough here in the winter.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 4, 2010 I’m going to have the nicest-smelling desk chair in the town of Auburn (maybe even the whole damn state) if I don’t stop spilling my perfumed oils on it. I try to gently pull the caps off the vials, but sometimes it comes flying off and causes a bit of a spillover.

So now that I’m smelling profoundly of aloe rain I can say that my birthday was both fun and annoying. I didn’t care for the long drive into the Citrus Heights/Sacramento area or the walk down Memory Lane, but it was fun to leave it all behind in the end. Yeah, we went by the old storage place and there I was remembering those desperate 36 hours of homelessness, thinking we were dead for sure and wanting to smash all our stuff so no one “profited” from our deaths. I remember trying to sleep in the truck and how uncomfortable I was in the old heap of shit, how cold I was, how helpless and hopeless I felt.

Last night Maliheh was the first to “sing” me happy birthday.

Well I don’t know how long it takes to get this email so ill send it a few min earlier Happy birthday to you Happy birthday to you haaaaapppppy biiiiiirrrthdaaaay deeeeeeeaarrr Jooooooodddddiiiiiiiii. Haaaaaappppyy biiiiiirrthdaaaaY toooooooooo youuuuuuuuu. It’s 12:00 December 4th I hope I was the first to sing you a happy birthday. I sure hope what e er you do for your birthday you enjoy it I’m beat got a long day coming up. Over and out

That was so sweet of her. :) Andy, Aly and Kim also wished me a happy birthday. I’m really surprised, though pleased, that Tammy didn’t contact me. But I am kind of surprised that Nane, Mitch and my cousin didn’t even have the decency to leave a quick hello on my Facebook wall. Especially since I remembered their birthdays. So today was a reminder of just who cares about me and who doesn’t, and to those that actually give a shit, I am very grateful. :) Still, maybe the message I intend to leave on my wall later on will slap a little guilt over some people’s heads. grins devilishly I’m more into treating people how they treat me as opposed to treating everyone the way I wish to be treated, so I just may get hit with amnesia when certain birthdays roll around. :)

I had a dream a while back (I think I wrote about it) where Maliheh and I were dining out somewhere and she shook her head in shocked wonder and said something like, “How can what we’re so sure are the wrong people be so right while the right people are so wrong?”

It’s true, too! Never in a million years would I have guessed she’d care as much as Tom and my folks! But she does and it makes me both happy to have her in my life as well as sorry I can’t hug the hell outa her for it. Oh, man, if somebody had told me 5, 10, 15 years ago that she’d one day be the first to wish me happy birthday, then care enough to want to hear about it, I’d have laughed my ass off! I just never would’ve believed it. Life ain’t what we plan it, but some of life’s surprises are really great! I know there are no guarantees in life, but I hope she’ll always be a part of my life.

Maybe buying a deserted tropical island wouldn’t be that much fun after all if we ever struck it rich, because as Tom pointed out, I wouldn’t have my cyber friends, including Maliheh.

So on with my birthday adventures. I slept till 11am and we left right before 1pm. As I said, it was a long drive with some unhappy memories, but if there was any good in it, it was knowing that they are just that – memories. It was a great feeling to leave the city behind on the way back and know that we didn’t have to return to some motel room or the scummy apartment complex I thought we’d end up in. Not even a “tooth house” as I call those damn houses that are just a few feet apart.

The crowds and traffic were plentiful and some of the lanes were so backed up it reminded me of Phoenix and L.A.

The only other negative was the restaurant’s “signature” screaming. Yeah, sure enough, just like every goddamn restaurant we go to, including when we were last at Red Lobster 3 years ago, we just had to get stuck with some little kid screaming in our ear. I don’t understand why they don’t just leave them at home and why they would want to take kids that young to restaurants. I swear they should have a section just for little kids!

Despite all the noise, the lobster was delicious! There’s not much to a ¼-lobster, but I still enjoyed every bite of it. The waitress helped me crack the claws open, the hardest part to crack, and took one of them back because it was undercooked. So that made us have to wait around even longer when I just wanted to get away from all the damn screaming. It was so nice when we finally did escape to these peaceful woods, reminded that we don’t have it so bad after all and how glad I am to never have had kids of my own.

Someone else there had a birthday today too, and a few of the waitresses sang them Happy Birthday. Tom said he’d tell our waitress it was my birthday too, but having Happy Birthday sung to me by strangers isn’t very exciting. It really only means something to me when it’s from someone special.

When we got back there was a message from my folks both wishing me a happy birthday. I called them back, thanked them for the GCs and got to laugh at them for waking up in the 40s tomorrow morning. I told them my face looked 50 and my body looked 30 and Dad said that averages out to 40, LOL.

Before Tom went to bed he said he wanted to take me birthday shopping sometime since I didn’t get anything today, but being with him, having good friends, and eating my favorite foods is getting more than enough. :)

I’m glad I got myself on days for today. At least I can do that much for a week or two. Around Christmas, I’ll start aiming it for New Year’s Eve so the shooting they do out here won’t wake me up.

Maliheh went to bed early after saying “Hey, birthday girl. I want to hear all about it tomorrow.” She must’ve had trouble sleeping, though, cuz she checked my blog a minute before I posted this birthday entry online.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 3, 2010 Last night I woke up sweating around 3am. My comforters are too heavy but my fleece blanket is too light. I think I’ll try turning my heater off altogether before bed tonight.

Then I had a horrible dream I was charged with murder a few hours later. I seemed to be back down in Arizona and didn’t seem to know Tom either. I “ran into” my cousin Philip and we talked about getting an apartment together. I must’ve been desperate or something. Then I stepped outside a sliding door to spray the screen with bug spray in what seemed to be some sort of hotel. I loved the dry heat but hated being in Arizona with its crazy, discriminative laws. Then, as if to remind me of just how things are there, a bunch of cops drags me into this strange jail, telling me I’m being charged with the murder of this girl whose name I recognized from the book Mary and I wrote. It was an old neighbor she once had.

The jail seemed more like a hospital or a college dorm. The “inmates” were even allowed outside. But it was still a very horrible and depressing place. I had no support, no privacy, none of my belongings…nothing.

Then I ran into Mary herself of all people. I was surprised because I thought she was still in custody in Florida. I told her I’d been charged with her old friend’s murder and instantly I knew that somehow she was the one that killed her as she poured out a load of fake sympathy on me.

Deciding not to say anything just yet, I “ran into” my sister next, but she wasn’t an inmate. She could see I was upset and demanded to know what was wrong. “Ok, you’re going to find out soon enough anyway if it isn’t already all over the news,” I told her and proceeded to tell her of my charges. She fainted.

The dream ended with me reminding myself that I would be found guilty no matter what just for being a white Jew in Arizona and that I promised myself years ago that I would never let anyone victimize me ever again. I also reminded myself that I knew the shit would eventually hit the fan again in my life and that I would be better off dead. And so I knew it was time to look for a way to kill myself to escape a life of hell.

Boy, was I ever so glad to wake up from this one! So many times before in my life I’ve wished that I could wake up from whatever nightmare I was going through and see that it was just a nightmare after all. Well, I certainly got to do that last night, though I’d rather not have any, awake or asleep.

I’m not going to say whether I’m talking about a person or an object or something else, but sometimes I wonder why I get stuck wanting things I can never have. Does this happen to everyone? I’m not depressed or anything like that, but sometimes it gets frustrating when certain things are simply out of reach. Just totally impossible and not meant to be. Yet I seem to be in this situation at times throughout my life, like it or not, and regardless of the fact that it’s nothing I can control. Control it I would if I could. But the feelings of those involved are just as important as my own feelings, and so I just need to deal with it. It’s all I can do and it’s certainly nothing new. I’ve been through this before and I’m sure I’ll go through it again, and it won’t always be easy keeping my feelings to myself and suppressing the urge to say or do certain things, but sometimes we have to do what’s best and not what we want. The dreams I’ve kept secret don’t always tell the truth and if they have been, then I’m way off. Just way off.

Things change. Things always change. I bitch about this enough, don’t I? But some changes, believe it or not, are good ones. I just tend to focus on the annoying changes that my favorite websites often make. Yes, this is something I’ve definitely lived long enough to know. Not only do all good things come to an end, but nothing stays the same either. And so sooner or later something else will come up to divert my attention from this thing I cannot have (or at least the ways I cannot have it). It just may be something else I cannot have. sighs Some of us just can’t win.

And some of us just aren’t meant to succeed either. Yeah, my global poverty article shot to number 1 out of 62, but one of my articles was rejected for publication for $56 even though I had less than 30 competitors there. So you see? I’m free to succeed and climb to the top as long as there’s no money to be made. beats head

The only other shit going on was that I was in horrible pain throughout most of yesterday. Another tooth is acting up and it’s irritating my ear. I practically lived in a bottle of Aleve and it would make me so drowsy. So I was busy but not very productive yesterday because I had to keep lying down. Using mouthwash with antiseptic has helped my tooth a bit and today I’m a little better. If they don’t hire him on next month we’re just going to have to deal with my teeth on our own, even if it means swapping in old problems for new ones like usual. Yeah, I’m the one that gets punished for helping herself. :(

Oh, one more uncool thing – Jesse. He ran the bulldozer for a couple of hours yesterday, too. Nothing yet today, though, because it’s been foggy. We’re pretty sure he’s clearing brush and it smelled like he was burning some yesterday unless the smell was from his fireplace. He could also be gathering firewood. I just wish he wouldn’t spend so much time outdoors doing things, and of course tonight I’ll have to have the sound machines on to drown out the dogs because he’ll be in the city.

Got my perfume samples today and am enjoying trying them out and getting credit for leaving reviews on them.

Nane was cracking up yesterday because she wrote “lecker” on some beverage photo on her wall, a word I was unfamiliar with. She was laughing because I told her the first thing that came to mind was “licker,” though it really means “delicious.” So I learned another new word I had to look up.

Decided I didn’t want to be a blond anymore. I don’t like being 4-toned with dark brown roots, gray at the temples, dark blond up top and light brown on the bottom. If I go back to dark brown it’ll at least cover more evenly.

Not wanting any contact from any of my nieces tomorrow (having Tammy wish me a happy birthday on my wall or by email will be bad enough), I went to block them. Yeah, where I first wished I was an only child (and still do) now I wish I had no nieces. Lisa and Becky were easy to block, but since I couldn’t pull up Sarah’s profile, I’d say the little bitch beat me to it, LOL.

sighs Just as soon as my folks are gone I’ll dump ‘em all. The only reason I’m bothering with Tammy is that my folks will probably put her in charge of dispensing their will no matter what I say. The biggest thing is making sure she doesn’t get our physical address, but unlike the last time when we moved, there shouldn’t be anyone she can call (Miss Perfect) who will give her that info. If she could’ve sicced the pigs on me last year she would have. That’s how Tammy spites people that piss her off. But I escaped another round of legal abuse because she didn’t know where to send them.

Maliheh and I chatted last night and I guess we will tonight, too. I cannot believe I’ve become friends and chat every day with Maliheh B of all people! And even though all I am to her is just a friend. Yeah, I first figured that because she didn’t tell me to stop flirting with her, she just might like me too, but not saying so for some reason. But then I told her I would “take the hint” and curb the flirting and she didn’t tell me I didn’t have to do that either, so I guess that since she’s never responded to my flirting, that alone pretty much tells me something.

But why does she want to be my friend? I thought that on the off chance she might, I’d only hear from her once in a blue moon, not every day. Why are my feelings important to her all of a sudden? Maybe she has read more of my blog and story than I realize and likes me more than she’s even willing to admit. I just don’t know what’s what for sure where that girl’s concerned.

She was telling me that back when she was in high school her mother had neck pain which she eventually learned was due to a tooth infection. She too, has had tons of dental work done and figures she has about 5 or 6 grand more to go. Damn!

She still enjoys my articles, though I’m giving up on Helium again.

She and her students are also putting together a Christmas show.

She also said that the reasons she felt ripped off by the home organizer were that she asked her to buy her lunch, which she later regretted, and didn’t give her enough tips and advice.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2010 I’m enjoying the peace and quiet until Jesse starts his usual racket which should be any minute now. Tom said that by the looks of the back of his pickup, it looks like he’s been hauling stuff away.

I dread the day he creates the little road he said he wanted to create in back so he can drive his truck down to the well. I still say it’s too steep, but if it’s not, I hope to hell that’s something he’ll decide not to bother with! Especially while we’re still here. That’d be so damn annoying, not to mention take quite a while to do.

My life would be damn near perfect if I just didn’t have this ear and teeth pain. It’s been bad again and I woke up in pain last night and this morning. And I still don’t understand why the pain starts in my ear and spreads to my lower jaw. I guess the pressure of the dead skin building up inside could cause the achiness to spread out. God, I totally regret the day they made this ear canal! Totally! But we’re back to putting baby oil in it, the fucking thing. :(

Other than Jesse’s noise, pain and being fat, life is great. Tom might have gotten a raise, Maliheh and I have been having great talks, the rat’s loads of fun even if he’s a bit more destructive than I’d like, my parents sent two $25 Red Lobster GCs for my birthday, Eileen sent a birthday/Chanukah card, and Tom will be picking up my perfume samples on the way home from work. Then, between shopping points and the points I’ll get for reviewing the samples, I’ll have about $18 in credit toward my next order. :)

Tom wonders if he got a raise because the 3 days he got paid for last week was $30 more than he expected. We didn’t think they gave raises to temps, though, so we’ll find out for sure next Wednesday when he gets paid again. If he did, that’s a hell of a raise. :) I just wish they’d hire him on!

We’ll probably be going to Red Lobster on my birthday, which my blog will decide is just one day away at 5pm. I don’t know why the blog times are off, but I definitely have it set to Pacific Time. We’re going to go between lunch and dinner in hopes of it being less crowded then, but with my shit luck, some unruly kid will be wailing its ass off while its mother sits there oblivious to it all as was the case the last time we were there 3 years ago. We’re going to go to the one in Citrus Heights rather than Sacramento because it’s closer.

I was surprised my Helium account balance jumped from 37¢ to $3.39! Still slave wages, but I might’ve gotten twice that or even more if I hadn’t stopped. Maybe I’ll go back to it again for a while. It’s just that everyone complains about getting 20 or 30 cents a month. Those articles for $56 still say they’re “in process.”

We didn’t get to it last night as it started getting late, but Maliheh says the home organizer person ripped her off. She said she’d tell me about it tonight.

She said that while she’d never want to be 20 again, 33 was her favorite age. She was in good shape and didn’t need to exercise to fit into her jeans. She complains about bloating and extra inches around the waist that seems to occur in just a day, though she’s still steadily around 100 pounds. How it is she managed not to gain weight with age like the rest of us is beyond me. She’s lucky. But I myself do remember having days where I felt bloated even between 90-100 pounds.

She also said it was a pain in the neck for her to be with someone tall and doesn’t care about the person’s weight as long as she’s not crushed by them and they’re not so fat that their health is at risk.

Had an X-rated dream I sent her. Instead of telling me not to send it she instead reminded me after I sent it that while she thinks I’m a good writer and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings, she doesn’t like to read, especially adult material, regardless of the source. Good friendships are based on honesty, she added, saying she didn’t want to lie to me and that my feelings were important to her, and she hoped it wouldn’t hinder our chats which she does so enjoy.

“Hinder” our chats? As in making me hesitant to throw in those quick but sometimes frequent enough flirty things I hit her with? Like how I wish I could crawl into bed next to her (when she’s saying good night).

This is the third time she’s used the word “friendship.” But it also seems strange that she’d bother with me if the feeling weren’t somewhat mutual. Even Alison agreed, who I asked in private for her opinion. Again, I’m getting mixed signals just like 20 years ago. It’s ok, though. She’s still worth it. :)

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 1, 2010 The last 24 hours or so have called for some annoyances both inside and outside. For starters, Jesse got on my nerves with the damn bulldozer around noon.

The jackassholes in back decided to show off, get a little attention and piss those off around them but going on a shooting spree around 4pm. It was so fucking loud that the windows rattled! This is one of the reasons I hesitate to get a place off the grid, along with the sonic booms that can occur there.

When I opened the bathroom window, I could hear shouts back there, but not what was being said. I wish they’d shoot each other!

I agree with Tom when he said he doesn’t think the dogs are there anymore. We haven’t seen them in ages and I think they lost them for sure what with how many complaints they got, especially when they let the pit bull loose so it could attack one of the goats up at the summit.

I just can’t believe no one calls the pigs when they get trigger-happy, and if they do, why do they keep doing it every so often? Do they think it’ll become legal in this area and not at all annoying or something?

Then the dogs went off for a half-hour or so at 6pm.

At 9pm, after having a lovely chat with Maliheh, I was so tired that I was sure I could go to sleep. After all, I’d been up long enough. But no. Instead I tossed and turned like a sheet in a dryer till 1am after I’d been up 19 hours. So I didn’t get up till around 9am, but at least I’ll be up later, and since it’s not Friday night, all should be peaceful.

Maliheh told me she grew up between San Diego and Hawaii, then she spent 8 years in the Midwest, 8 more in California, 8 in New England, and has been in the South since ’95. Her dad was in the Navy, too. By the time my folks started having kids a few years after they were married and he was diagnosed with heart problems, he was done with the Navy himself. I could’ve sworn Mom said he was stationed in NC right after they were married.

She doesn’t know where she’d go if she won a million bucks (I’d want to buy a tropical island), and says there’s a tornado watch for her area but wasn’t worried since she’s sort of in a valley.

She believes in spells too, saying she wrote her wishes on two separate pieces of paper back when she was unhappy. One she burned, the other she kept in a dark place (a wooden box). She said it took a couple of years but that she got almost everything she wanted.

She thinks her wifi is acting up and so she’s going to call them out Monday, the day she starts her two-week vacation, and we can talk diet and exercise later, something she can moan and bitch about like crazy.

Why? She stayed thin all these years.

Today’s annoyances consist of me still feeling tired and PMSing, and Jesse started up with the bullshitter right after I got up. The only difference is that this time it seems to be coming from the back of his place. It’s still annoying enough to have a landlord who’s the nervous, fidgety type that just can’t sit still for more than a week. Or maybe he’s so lonely that he feels he’s gotta do this to get attention. It’s supposed to rain in a few days so that’ll shut him up if only for a while. Today’s actually pretty nice. I might even need to crack a window for a while.