#also guess who is going swimming on wednesday

[idioticbat]

Idk how to write this, but I got caught in the south Brazil floods. My partner and I have been homeless since last Saturday, we've stayed until this Thursday at a shelter, but things were getting worse and worse, and my partner's company paid a hotel stay in another town till the next week or two.

Thursday/Friday on the week before the last (may 2nd and 3rd) we were housing two friends, who were already homeless due to the flood which had just started. They're also both trans and have no family to support them.

Friday morning the power went out and our friends left for a shelter. In the evening, my partner and i went for a walk to check how bad things were, and it was already flooding a mere 3 and a half blocks from our house. On the time it took for us to walk across that block, the water was already covering our feet.

We rushed back home and the street in front of where we live was starting to get covered in water. We carried everything we could to the attic, mostly my art stuff, computer, etc. We originally planned to stay home and survive a couple days until it got better. I barely slept that night because I knew the water was coming, so my brain was on maximum alert. I woke up after 3 hours of sleep, from a dream that I was trying to escape the flood.

When I woke up, we organized a bit more and ate lunch for breakfast. On the time it took for us to eat, the water was already at our doorstep, and we rushed to pack. I had a panic attack as the water rushed into our house, and a police officer rescued us and carried our bags inside a barrel. I only got a few clothes, medication for two weeks, basic hygiene stuff, plushies and some food. My partner got clothes and their laptop. I regret not picking my computer.

We had to swim and waddle through 1.60m+ (5'3") deep water for two blocks. On some places it was probably close to 2m. It felt like an eternity passed while we found our way through the cold water. Some neighbours who were also helping us recommended us a place for shelter. After we crossed a bridge, some person gave us a ride, so at least we didn't have to walk 3km to the shelter.

We got there really early on Saturday, the university which was one of the places being used as a shelter had just opened, so we were able to shower and eat. They also gave us new clothes. As it got more packed, we got help from volunteer psychologists, who gave us a separate room in another floor, since both my partner and I have autism.

I had more panic attacks but we got some help from other volunteers. Things were otherwise fine throughout Sunday and Monday, we managed to shower once more. Stuff started getting worse on Tuesday, as the place went from sheltering some 100-200 people to around 700. We were seeing the psychologists only once a day for a couple minutes and food started getting delayed for hours. Water was also scarce and we started having power outages.

Wednesday we were without food til 4pm, and since we also had pretty much lost access to the psychologists, we accepted the offer from my partner's company to take us to a hotel in another town. Thursday we left for the hotel, I showered for the first time since in four days, had lunch and finally changed my patreon password so I can post from my phone, as I do pretty much everything from my computer. Yesterday and today (friday/saturday, one week later), i finally managed to have computer access on my partner's laptop and log in to tumblr, cohost and so on.

I'm still not sure what we'll do about the future. Our place was rented and all the furniture that belonged to the house will be lost. Our landlord lives in another country and it's almost impossible to contact her. The kitchen and laundry appliances are still underwater and I guess we'll lose all of these. We can't afford to renew a house that isn't ours, and buy new appliances on top of that. We have nowhere to go that's nearby after this is over, no family, and our few friends are worse off. I'm not even sure I'll be able to recover my computer since the roof on the attic is leaky, and there'll be even more rain this weekend.

I feel absolutely crushed inside. Some people have tried to get me art supplies and I did draw a bit on a whiteboard in the classroom we were staying at in the shelter, but it's not the same thing. I can't feel any kind of inspiration knowing I might be completely homeless in two weeks, knowing the only two friends we have here might also be homeless, knowing I might have lost more than 15 years of art and music that were on my computer, that I might have lost thousands of physical drawings and so on. But I'm just trying my best to not think about any of that, so I just feel numb, occasionally I cry and feel anxious. My partner has also been trying to cheer me up since we got to the hotel, but i still feel pretty terrible. I haven't slept more than 5 hours straight in some 10 days. A lot of the time I dissociate and everything feels surreal.

I'll leave my ko-fi here in case anyone wants to donate. I also want to help our two friends with at least 100usd if possible, since they're even more vulnerable than my partner and I. If you have me on discord, please dm me instead and I'll give you my paypal address.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 12

Welcome to act 2. These are going to be a rough set of chapters for Steve. I hate to do it, but I've got to get him low, to have Eddie build him back up.

If you've been following along to WIP Wednesday, you'll know (or at least suspect) that I'm nearing the end of act 2 and the return of Eddie.

Then I'm not sure how much longer it's going to be. It could be a couple of chapters. But it might be several.

Here we have Jeff teasing Steve and Eddie. Steve decides to spend all his money on movies and popcorn, and at last a wild Birdie appears.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

~

It took a month before Clint Harrington gave up on his crusade to chase his son out of town. That didn’t make Steve safe, per se, just safer. But he took what little comfort in that that he could.

The kids were jealous of the Sunbird, Mike finally admitting that yes, some mysterious benefactor had come in and swept Steve off his feet. He was a kept man.

Steve squirmed at the term. He was going to start looking for work. Just as soon as the dust settled. There was no point in looking when Clint Harrington was just going to come in and throw his weight around get him fired again.

Mike just rolled his eyes when he explained it to the kids, but Max was of the idea to milk for as much as it was worth.

“Seriously, Steve,” Max huffed, “if I could live in a hotel and swim whenever I wanted and order as much food as I wanted, I’d never want to leave.”

He scoffed. “That’s because you’re like ten and actually have friends your age or did you all forget that my dad chased all my friends off?”

“Ooh,” Lucas said clicking his tongue and shaking his head, “yeah, man. That’s rough. And it doesn’t help that this place has one movie theater, an arcade, and a handful of specialty shops none of which scream fun times for teenagers.”

“Yeah,” Will said from the couch, “Jonathan has been complaining about it all summer. There’s Bloomington or Indy, but considering you don’t know which direction your parents went, you’re pretty much stuck in Hell.”

Steve waved his hand at Will. “See? Will gets it.”

So all the kids got their heads together will Claudia and Joyce and tried to plot out something for Steve to do so that he wouldn’t have be staring at the same set of walls every day, no matter how gorgeous those walls happened to be.

Which is how Steve became cinaphile. He started just picking random movies to see at random times of the day during the week. His favorite time to go was Tuesday afternoons before the middle school got out. Not enough time for high school students to evade the place, but later than the moms taking their small children as a way to beat the summer heat.

It also allowed him to find new genres he liked and through all this Eddie stayed his constant phone companion. He loved listening to Steve talk about the plot and how hot the actors were. It was fun.

Steve was also starting to make friends with the rest of the band. He found out who the other person that picked up before thinking it was his phone that was ringing.

“Hey, is Eddie around?” Steve had asked, calling the mobile phone.

“He just stepped out for a minute but he’ll be right back,” the person said. “I’m Jeff by the way, I’m the one that picked up before.”

“Oh hello!” Steve said in surprise. “You’re the other guitarist, right?”

Jeff laughed. “Yeah that’s me. Thanks for not saying ‘the black one’ by the way.”

“Happens a lot?” he asked with a grimace.

“All the time,” Jeff deadpanned. “All the god damned time.”

“That must be shitty,” Steve commiserated. “I guess it’s not quite the same as saying the blond one or the tall one.”

“Yeaaaahhh, no,” Jeff said. “The other two are neutral attributes while being black carries a certain disdain to it.”

“One of the families I used to babysit before this all went to hell,” Steve said, “was a black family and I didn’t realize all the little shit they go through each day. All the snide remarks and sneering glances all the for the crime of existing in the grocery store.”

“Yeah,” Jeff agreed. “Oh wait, your lover boy is back. Hey Ed, it’s Steve.”

“Little Canary!” Eddie said excitedly upon being given the phone. “Jeff didn’t spill any of my secrets did he?”

Steve heard Jeff laugh in the background. “I didn’t know there were secrets he kept... I’m going to have to pump him for information next time.”

‘No, no, no,” Eddie whined. “Not allowed! Shoo Jeffy. Mine! Shoo!”

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Steve giggled. “You can tell all your secrets yourself the next time you’re in Hawkins.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said softly. “I think I’d like that very much.”

“You’re just a gooey marshmallow, aren’t you?” Steve said with a giggle. “A perfectly roasted marshmallow. Hard on the outside, but all melty and gooey on the inside. Sweet and sticky.”

Eddie burst out laughing. “You really had me going there until the sticky part. Yeah, baby. I’ll be your marshmallow and you’ll be my little Canary.”

“Yeah, Eds,” Steve said, “I’d really like that.”

They talked for a little bit longer before Eddie hummed.

“Steve we have to talk about the last month of the tour,” he said seriously.

Steve’s blood froze in his veins. Eddie rarely called him ‘Steve’. It was a petname like baby, sweetheart, or honey, or little Canary, or maybe even Stevie. But never Steve. “Oh yeah? What about?”

“We’re going to be in Canada,” Eddie continued. “I’ll still be able to call, but only from hotel rooms. I don’t get good service there.”

The ice in his veins turned to lead in his stomach. “So while you’re on the road, you won’t be able to call me?” he asked, his voice small.

“Oh, little Canary,” Eddie said sympathetically. “I’ll try to call from payphones when we stop for gas, but yeah. It’ll be pretty sporadic. But I’ve gotten Chrissy to promise that she’ll take good care you.”

“She still doesn’t like, you know,” Steve said, “she thinks I’m distracting you from doing your job.”

“Which is fucking ridiculous,” Eddie assured him. “I shake my ass on stage and sing and play my heart out. I never skimp on that, and never walk out one meet and greets with the fans. It’s her job to worry, but it’s not your problem. It’s mine. Plus I have my little elf in play who will be plying you with as many little bird gifts I can find.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at that. He had gotten in addition to the necklace that he only took off to shower, a couple of graphic t-shirts with canaries on them. A keychain as well as one with his name on it. Three little ceramic canaries and a glass one. All brought in by Eddie’s little elf.

“Yeah, okay,” he huffed. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”

“Well, I’ve got to go, babe,” Eddie murmured, “I’ll talk to later. The change won’t happen right away, but I’ll tell you when the date gets closer, okay?”

“Roger that,” Steve said with a sigh of relief. Then they hung up and he flopped on the sofa like a fainting Victorian maiden. In a couple of weeks, he would go back to being as lonely as fuck.

He didn’t even know who the little elf was or why they never showed themselves. All though, knowing Eddie, it was probably just because he thought it was cute. Which it was. It was also a little on the creepy side. He had gotten to know the porters, bellboys, and cleaning staff very well, so he didn’t mind them coming in while he was out or even in the shower.

But a mysterious person whom he knew nothing about? Yeah that was a problem. He didn’t know if they were male or female, how old they were, were they friendly or just doing their job.

To say it drove Steve nuts would be an understatement.

It had been six weeks since his dad chucked him out for making out with Tommy on the sofa and all that time he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the bastard or any of their friends. It was just then his luck ran out.

He had accidentally spilled almost his whole bottle of shampoo and had to go and get more. He spoke briefly to Joyce and chatted with her about Will and how Jonathan was adjusting to being newly graduated and turned around to run directly into someone.

“Shit!” Steve hissed as the basket he was carrying slammed into his stomach. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

He looked up, right into the green eyes and freckled face of Tommy Hagan.

“Steve!”

“Hey, Tommy,” Steve said with a fake smile. “How have you been?” The unasked question of ‘why did you leave me?’ hung in the air between them.

Tommy reached up and rubbed the material of Steve’s shirt between his finger and thumb. “That’s some pretty fancy new getup you’ve got there. Where you get the money for such nice things?”

Steve took a step back and crossed his arms. “I’m surviving. Like I always do.” He hated how he was already put on the defensive.

“Mhmm...” Tommy purred. “Pretty little slut like you, I bet you’ve got yourself a sugar daddy you’ve spread your legs for.”

Dread immediately pooled in Steve’s stomach. That wasn’t what Eddie was? Was he?

He smacked Tommy’s hand away. “Jealous that someone is fucking me better than you ever could? Maybe I have someone paying my bills or maybe I just have a trust fund. I’ll never tell you jack shit.”

The thing was is that he probably did have a trust fund. He just wouldn’t get it until he turned twenty-one. He had two years of running on empty he would have to do first. At least he had until Eddie came home anyway.

“No,” Tommy agreed, “you were always more of a screamer than a talker.”

Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed. “At least I didn’t run like a bitch when my parents walked in on us fucking. You find another dick to ride or did you go back to Carol like the coward you are?”

Tommy scowled. “You keep her name out your dirty mouth, Stevie boy. You don’t want to see what will happen if you don’t.”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a snort, “you’ll go running back to Daddy to protect you, like always do. Now pardon me, I have better things to do.” His eyes flicked over Tommy’s body. “If you hadn’t been the only option, I wouldn’t have picked you.”

He pushed passed him, bumping their shoulders together as he did.

He quickly bought what he needed and about as much junk food as he could get hands on. Joyce looked as though she wanted to ask if he was okay, so picked a different line to go though, hurrying out to his car. He looked around to make sure Tommy wasn’t waiting for him, but he didn’t see his car.

He drove back to the hotel, ready for a junk food night in front of the TV. He ordered room service and turned on the shower to wash off the slimy feeling of the interaction with Tommy. He had removed his shirt when he realized he had left the shampoo out there.

He opened the door and stopped in his tracks. Because there putting a couple of boxes on the end table was a girl with choppy blonde hair and boxy clothes. She was definitely not staff.

“So you’re my elf.”

~

Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[loftec]

weekly tag wednesday thursday 👏

Tagged by @deedala @mmmichyyy and @wehangout thanks pals! <3

Name:  loftec

Location:  Sweden

Age: 3...8? Yes. 38.

You have an unexpected extra day off work or school!  What are you going to do? Pack my breakfast to go and eat it by the ocean after a swim, write at the library, do a bunch of second hand shops on the way home, do some crafting.

What is your favorite way to spend a summer day?  Early ocean swim to avoid the heat and the crowds, and then hang out inside with doors and windows open.

What is your favorite way to spend a winter day? Midday ocean swim lol, hang out at home and hopefully get extra snuggles from the cat (he's not normally very snuggly)

What do you do to unwind at the end of the day?  I like to sand little bits of wood into shapes, very relaxing. But mostly I'm on tumblr and watch youtube.

Do you play any sports?  No.

Other than fanfic, what is your favorite genre to read?  Fantasy and sci-fi mostly, right now I'm reading "Light From Uncommon Stars" by Ryka Aoki and "The Well of Loneliness" by Radclyffe Hall.

What is your comfort movie/tv show?  I would say Community and IT Crowd for comfort tv-shows because I have historically rewatched them a LOT and they are, but the last couple of years I would say I have more comfort YouTube videos. Hbomb's Sherlock video, ContraPoints's various JKR videos, Jenny Nicholson's Spiderquest or Escape from tomorrow is a dumb exercise in misery, or Folding Ideas's video series on 50 shades etc etc. Comfort movies for me are weirdly movies that make me cry, but they make me cry in very different ways so it depends on what type of cry I want. I'll spare you my lists of crying movies lol.

Do you write or draw?  A little bit of both, but writing is the thing I do purely for the fun of it.

What other arts or crafts do you do?  I do printmaking and bookbinding and odd little wooden earrings/pendants I'm still not sure is anything. I also like to 3d sculpt and making miniatures. Oh and I'm crocheting a temperature blanket this year, which I'm terribly behind on at the moment.

Describe your perfect breakfast: This year I've been making a very nice oat porridge with mushrooms, miso and spinach for breakfast on weekdays and I love it, can't imagine anything I'd want more tbh. I make my coffee just the way I like it, and sometimes I boil an egg to put on top the porridge *chef's kiss* I guess some nice juice with that would elevate it even more, and a fresh chocolate glazed donut after? If it's a special occasion?

Tagging anyone who wants to do this! My computer is not happy with me right now so I need to post this before it does something drastic!

[burninface]

☕Weekly Tag Wednesday🥥

thank you @gallapiech @lingy910y @energievie @sgtmickeyslaughter @spookygingerr @mmmichyyy @deedala for tagging me💝

Name: onthefrontofmyhead

Location: sensory integration training room

Age: 10111

You have an unexpected extra day off work or school! What are you going to do? go see my therapist…

What is your favorite way to spend a summer day? doing indoor activities with AC or going swimming at indoor pool

What is your favorite way to spend a winter day? doing exactly the same thing as in summer but switch AC to heat mode, including the going swimming at indoor pool part

What do you do to unwind at the end of the day? playing video games/draw/reading fics till my name smashs on the screen, or daydreaming

Do you play any sports? volleyball (recently getting more and more difficult to find ppl to play with) and swimming. and… I kinda participated in high jump in middle, high school and college, but had never won a medal (not that I trained for it a lot)

Other than fanfic, what is your favorite genre to read? … maybe encyclopedia? I just love tons of pictures and terms being all together, they are perfect daydreaming and dreaming materials

What is your comfort movie/tv show? shameless, dollars trilogy and an old chinese tv show called 武林外传(my own swordsman). also every time I'm too depressed I watch haikyuu (or read its manga

Do you write or draw? had written for 15 years then decided it's time to try out art

What other arts or crafts do you do? as an ot I've done a lot kinds of crafts with my patients cause they're perfect for hand function training, cognitive function training and self expression. I also make orthosis and braces for hand, I guess they count crafts too. other than work, maybe baking haha

Describe your perfect breakfast:

before 10:00 : coffee and gum/hard candy

after 10:00 : coffe with a big char siu bao or a bowl of glutinous rice (with minced meat, broth and chopped youtiao)

and I'm tagging:

@vintagelacerosette @atthedugouts @samantitheos @transsexual-dandelions @creepkinginc @michellemisfit @pookiebearmick @gallavichthings @jrooc @mickeym4ndy @doshiart @jademickian @kiennilove @callivich and anyone who wants to do it<3

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 protector: chapter fifteen

synopsis: " you were supposed to stay a crewate, just another back to watch, " he tightened his hold, " i didn't even notice the change until i woke up one day and realized i'd take a bullet for you "

cw: violence, gore, fighting, mature themes, profanity, MAJOR/MINOR ANIME SPOILERS, follows the plot of the anime, slowww burn.

a/n: reposting from another account

Once the crew got past Reverse Mountain, the lot of you ran into a gigantic whale, which ended up swallowing all of you.

Inside the whale's stomach, you met an old man Crocus, the keeper of the lighthouse and caretaker of the whale, who's name was Laboon.

He told you the story of Laboon's previous owners, and how he was stuck there until their return. 

And while telling the story, these two weirdos, who went by the names of Miss Wednesday and Mr. 9, tried killing Laboon.

Luffy beat them up easily, and got into a fight with the whale, promising to return so they could have a rematch.

And now here you were, the entire crew laid out on the floor after the roughest patch of sea you've ever faced.

Well, not the entire crew.

"C'mon. The weather's nice and all but that's not a reason to be lazy," Zoro scoffed, having just woken up from his nap.

"I'll kill you," you groaned, your voice dangerous.

He turned to Miss Wednesday and Mr. 9, who were also sprawled out on the ground.

"Oh, you guys are still here."

He crouched down, the both of them abruptly sitting up with fearful expressions.

"Wanna tell me what were your strange names were again? 'Cause I don't think that you can be trusted."

"Well," Mr. 9 shakily started, "I'm called Mr. 9."

"And I'm called Miss Wednesday," Wednesday answered as well, her smile faltering.

"Right. You know those names sound familiar, and that's what's bothering me. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I'm certain I've heard them somewhere before. Or maybe I—" you interrupted his rant by punching him in the back of the head, hard.

"You think your lazy ass can just sleep while we do all the work?! You're lucky I didn't throw you overboard!" you scolded, angry.

"Ow! What's the matter with you, woman?!" he exclaimed, rubbing the large knot on his head.

You answered his question by punching him in the same spot twice more, leaving him clutching his head in pain.

"Listen up, everyone! There's no way to know what's gonna happen next. During the terror most of us experienced, I came to an understanding of why this sea is named the Grand Line. My navigation skills are useless here, but mark my words I will guide us through!" Nami announced, proudly.

"Umm... okay. You sure, Nami?" Usopp asked.

She smiled, turning to look out at the distance, "Without a doubt.

"And speaking of which. We're here. Our first journey on the Grand Line comes to an end."

Everyone turned to see the island not too far ahead.

Whiskey Peak.

The island was covered with humongous cacti, some of which stretching up past the clouds.

"This is unlike any landscape I've ever seen," Sanji stated, impressed.

"Those cactus are humongous!" Luffy shouted.

Just then, Mr. 9 and Miss Wednesday jumped onto the rail of the Merry.

"Thank you but we must be leaving," he smirked.

"It's been an interesting ride to say the least," she agreed.

"Bye, bye, baby!"

And with that, they jumped off, back-flipping into the ocean and swimming to shore on their own.

"Buncha weirdos," you scoffed, crossing your arms.

"I guess we'll never learn what those nutjobs were up to," Usopp shrugged.

"Eh, who cares. We're landing!" Luffy smiled.

"There's a waterway right up to the shoreline. It looks like we can go inland by ship," Nami pointed.

"Um, am I the only weighing the possibility of monsters on that island?" Usopp began to shake, nervous.

"It's possible. This is the Grand Line," you shrugged, "Even if there are it's not like we can leave."

"Huh? Why not?" Luffy asked, confused.

"Don't you guys remember what Crocus said. The Log Pose needs enough time to record the islands magnetic field so we have to stay put. The Log Pose needs a different amount of time for each island so some may take a few hours while other may take several days," Nami explained.

You continued up the waterway, a dense fog rolling in and covering up the view of the port.

But as the lot of you got closer, you could her a faint sound.

Faint, but distinct.

"Is that—?"

As the fog cleared, a crowd of what looked like the entire island could be seen gathered at the docks, all cheering and celebrating. 

"Greetings and good tidings, travelers!" a man shouted.

"Welcome to Whiskey Peak!" another agreed.

"These aren't monsters. They're people. And they actually look happy to see us," Usopp stated, getting out of his defensive stance and lifting his goggles.

"What the hell's wrong with them?" Sanji asked.

"Pirates are always welcome in our town!" A random woman cheered, whipping around a flag

"Hooray for the heroes of the sea!"

"Hey!" Luffy cheered, sitting down on the head of the Merry.

"This is fishy," you stated bluntly, standing cross-armed next to Zoro.

"Definitely. I'd keep my guard up," he nodded, resting his hand on the hilt of his swords.

"Agreed."

After an entire day and night of partying, the crew was out cold, each asleep with a blissful smile on their faces.

You kept to yourself the entire night, distrusting of the villagers odd hospitality to pirates.

And luckily, that led you here, sitting on a rooftop next to Zoro, as the villagers below plan to raid your ship and murder your crew mates.

Not only that, but it was Zoro who revealed that they were actually a part of some giant criminal organization, all based on bounties and assassinations.

"You mind if I watch?" you smirked, crossing your legs and resting your cheek in your palm.

"Not at all," he smirked back, disappearing from the roof and appearing in the center of all the agents.

"Alright, then. Gimme a good show!" you smiled.

And what proceeded was a long, and hilarious, battle between Zoro and the hundred and some change criminals.

Each one had their own goofy weapon, and each one would get swiftly taken out upon entry, mostly because of their own doing.

"We got you now, girl!" a small fry shouted as he and a group of his friends came running up behind you.

"This'll teach you to mess with Baroque Works!"

"God's Messenger: Army and Point," you stated, not taking your eyes off Zoro's fight.

A large amount of your feathers detached, stabbing and slicing the men like knives with a mind of their own.

Once all of them were down, your feathers returned to you, softening back to normal.

"Will you idiots give it a rest? You're way out of your league," you rolled your eyes.

As you continued to watch the fight, the gears in your head began to turn, and you realized the opportunity put before you.

'If these guys are part of an intelligence agency, then maybe one of them knows something about Doflamingo.'

You turned to the curly-haired guy, Igara-something was his name. 

He seemed to be the leader of the small fry.

'Perfect.'

You quickly stood up, unfurling your wings and flying down into the battle, kicking away the mayor's saxophone gun and grabbing him by the collar.

"I'm stealing one, Zoro!" you called as you began to fly straight into the air.

"Find by me!" he shrugged, pushing a bunch of the agents off a ladder.

"What are you doing?! What do you want?!" the man frantically shouted, growing more and more fearful as you flew him higher and higher.

"I'm gonna make this real plain and simple, got it? You tell me what I wanna know, and I won't drop you," you started, your expression stone cold.

"But... you tell me somethin' I don't like," you smirked, "and I'll drop you so hard they'll be scrapin' your remains off the road for weeks."

"Okay! Okay! What do you wanna know?! I'll tell you anything!" he cried, his shaky hands gripping onto your wrists for dear life.

"Tell me where I can find Doflamingo," you ordered, tightening your grip on his collar.

"Doflamingo? I'm sorry but I have no idea what you're talking about! Please you have to believe me! I don't know who that is!" he blubbered.

You smirked, let out a quiet chuckle.

"Damn, Igarrapoi," you started, outstretching your arms.

"That was somethin' I didn't like."

"No, wait! Please! I—!" But before he could plead any more, you dropped him, his body landing one top of a couple of other agents.

He wouldn't be dead, but he'd be battered a good bit.

'Can't kill him for not knowing. But he did plan to kill my crew mates so most of that was deserved.'

"Ya done up there?" Zoro called, sitting himself down on the edge of a different rooftop.

"Yeah, I'm done," you sighed, flying down and sitting next to him.

"The guy had what you're looking for?" he asked.

"Nope. Another dead end," you huffed, glaring at the mayor's body, who seemed to be talking to someone in the alleyway, along with Miss Wednesday and Mr. 9.

"Don't let it discourage you. The further we get on the Grand Line, the more information you'll be able to find," he nodded, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder.

You smiled, a faint red tint rising to the apples of your cheeks.

"Anyway, you think our captain'll be alright. I left 'im down there with those weirdos," he asked, removing his hand.

You were already beginning to miss its warmth.

"Wait, Luffy's down there?" you asked, looking over the ledge to see that Luffy was indeed there, fat and passed out in a wheelbarrow.

Suddenly, the mayor jumped up and pulled the strings of his bowtie, sending a barrage of bullets towards the man and woman he was talking to.

And Luffy was caught dead smack in the middle.

"Dammit. Luffy's trapped," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"We better go do something about it," Zoro begrudgingly stood up, resting his hand on the hilt of his blade.

"Right behin—" Just then, a gigantic explosion ripped through the gunfire.

And when the smoke cleared, the mayor lay unmoving on the ground.

'This is too much.'

"I've had enough fun for one night," Zoro grumbled, jumping down from the roof and grabbing Luffy by the shirt, dragging him off.

You looked down at the scene again, cocking a brow as the mayor called Miss Wednesday Princess Vivi.

Mr. 9 tried to protect her, but the dread-headed guy picked his nose and shot a booger at the poor guy, blowing him up.

"That's disgusting," you grimaced, shuddering at the thought of explosive boogers.

'Now wait a second. Intelligence agency... secret princess... kingdom in danger... I think I'm starting to get the gist of what's happening around here.'

Flying over the dramatic scene happening with the princess, you met up with Zoro and Nami, who seemed to be arguing over money while the mayor lay on the floor, helpless.

You landed and squatted down to his level, him lifting his head to see you.

"Igara-guy," you started, serious, "Would the princess, or the king of this Alabasta place, know anything about Doflamingo?"

His eyes went wide, and he coughed up a little bit of blood, "I am almost certain that Princess Vivi knows nothing of this Doflamingo you speak of, but King Cobra should surely know."

You smirked, standing up straight.

"Well then, can't let my map die."

You managed to catch up with the princess only to see the exploding-booger guy fire a pretty big one at her.

Quickly, you swooped down and hit it away with your mace, sending it flying and exploding in mid-air.

"Gross! I just hit someone's snot!" you exclaimed, tongue out in disgust.

"You! Don't you pirates give up! Leave me alo—!" you quickly stopped the princess' spinning toy and turned to her, seriously.

"Relax. I'm here to help," you assured, firmly.

"Help?"

"I take it that you must be a part of that swordsman's crew. The one that beat up all the lowly employees stationed here," the blonde woman with the umbrella smiled.

"Why would you wanna protect the princess of Alabasta?" the booger-man asked.

"I have my reasons," you glared.

"Well one way or another we're gonna have to eliminate you. You're in our way."

"Aww, what a shame!" the blonde woman laughed. 

Booger-man stuck his finger up his nose, and you got yourself ready for another attack, until Luffy and Zoro suddenly burst through a house, fighting.

Your eyes went wide.

"Huh?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING?!" you shouted, angry.

"ZORO BEAT UP THE NICE TOWNSPEOPLE THAT GAVE US FOOD!" Luffy shouted, sending the swordsman flying into another building.

'My captain cannot be this stupid.'

"LUFFY, YOU DUMBASS, THEY'RE THE BAD GUYS! THEY TRIED TO KILL US!" you scolded.

But he ignored you, and instead got sent flying into the blonde woman and the booger man, knocking them into another house. 

After about five more minutes of the two knocking the sense out of each other, and the bad guys, you had had enough. 

"WILL YOU TWO IDIOTS QUIT IT!" you shouted, flying over and slamming the two of their heads together, stopping their fight. 

"You people... are insane," the princess gaped. 

"What the hell is wrong with you two?! You're lucky you guys kept her safe during your shenanigans, otherwise I could've lost out on some VERY important information!" 

"Huh? Information?" the princess asked, confused.

"In exchange for delivering you home safely, you're gonna bring me to your dad where we can discuss some things," you stated.

"I... uh... umm—" "Deal? Deal," you smiled, interrupting her.

"(y/n), that hurt," Luffy sniffled, clutching his head. 

"You're lucky I didn't hit you two harder!" 

"Tch... Crazy woman," Zoro huffed, nursing his new welt.

[samantitheos]

Weekly Tag Wednesday

Thanks for the tags @deedala and @jrooc. 🖤

Name: Sam.

Age: Older than Cam, younger than Noel.

First Pet? Buck, a black, long-haired cat who lived to be 23. 🐈‍⬛

First Word? I just tried to ask my parents...

First Celebrity Crush? So JTT seems like a common denominator among a bunch of us... Also Devon Sawa (I basically wore out the VHS of Wild America at my grandparents' house) and AJ from the Backstreet Boys.

First IRL Crush? Calin, my grade 4 "boyfriend." Also still randomly have dreams about him once in a while despite not having seen him in like 20+ years. What does it meeeean???

First kiss? This is so sad, but I actually don't remember. Probably one of my friends during Truth or Dare.

First Car? I spent my hard-earned cash working at A&W on this monstrosity my friends nicknamed "Hot Thunder." Smh. All I know is shame.

First apartment/house/dorm/whatever away from your parents? This tiny little house we rented that had bright orange 70s-era flower power wallpaper in one of the rooms. I'll spare you the picture, but nightmare inducing.

First time on a plane? Going to Cancun with my parents when I was 3.

First cellphone? Nokia 3310, I think. I just remember playing the snake game. 🐍

First concert? Rod Stewart. Thanks, mom. Lol.

First Foreign country you visited? Probably the US, but definitely Mexico when I was 3.

First sport you ever played? First team sport was softball, but I did a bunch of other shit even before that (ballet, swimming, figure skating). I was so athletic, I have no idea what happened lol.

First career aspiration? I went through a weird marine biology phase before I probably even understood what a biologist was.

And finally… tell me about the first time you wrote/drew/created/whatever something that made you think "wow": Feeling pride in my own work? Ew. But I guess my MA dissertation if only because it was 5 times as long as anything I had ever written before, and I didn't think I could do that.

Giving a little boopity boop to some homies. @gallapiech @lingy910y @krysmiss @mickittotheman @energievie @whaticameherefor @wehangout @callivich @camnoelgallavich @depressedstressedlemonzest @sam-loves-seb @sluttymickey

EDIT: My mom just texted to say she thinks "Buck" was my first word. 🥺🥺 But also that I couldn't always pronounce it right, so maybe my dad wasn't too far off with "fuck." 🤣

[lady-z-writes]

Hopper x reader

A hot day at Hawkins new splash zone proves to be a steamy afternoon.

(Part 4 of this post. Also found on ao3.)

Snippet:

Hop stops mid-sip, gaze raising to meet you ...bikini with a see-through cover, big smile.

He swallows hard.

Behind your sunglasses, your eyes linger over the white tshirt sticking to his skin in the heat. He notices. His breath catches.

"You better not be making a scene, sweetheart." He speaks quietly, glancing around at how much distance is between you and the nearest guest.

"Oh, I won't," you hum, removing the bathing suit cover, tossing it on the chair beside him.

His jaw goes slack, eyes gawking at every inch of you. He grinds his teeth.

"When you've had enough, I'm told the changing station locks."

The heat these last few days has been pure luck for the owners of the new splash zone Hawkins just gained.

The new owners gave exclusive tickets to important townspeople - and, he'd heard, a few lucky winners at some local bars. Drum up business, all that.

He'd gotten tickets and gave them straight to Joyce who planned on taking the kids.

Only, this morning she called and informed him the whole household was down with a stomach bug.

So guess where he ended up on this stifling Wednesday morning.

El was stoked, of course. How could he say no?

But no way in Hell was he taking his shirt off.

He barely fit into his swim trunks anymore so he'd had to buy new on the way there. When was the last time he swam ?

Sunglasses on, trying to sit himself into a beach lounger chair, Hop sighs.

"Complimentary champagne?" The owner was going around, handing out freebies which was pretty awesome, no complaints there.

He'd learned they got their liquor license and planned some adult events after hours.

Oh, he could come up with some ideas for a certain someone...

El's laugh snaps him out of his daydream. The redheaded kid managed to get tickets, probably because her mom was a barfly. He's glad. Now El won't be bugging him to join her in the water.

He grabs his champagne. He hated the stuff, to be honest, but free was free and the drops of condensation off the glass made his lips dry from thirst.

Guzzling it, he joked for the owner to leave the bottle.

"For you, Chief, I would."

Was she...flirting with him? He clears his throat, nods, feels sweat drip down the back of his shirt.

"Oh! There you are! Great seeing you, y/n. Thanks for coming."

Hop stops mid-sip, gaze raising to meet you ...bikini with a see-through cover, big smile.

He swallows hard.

"I couldn't pass up the free tickets, Anne. Congrats on the new business endeavor." You hug the woman, grab a champagne, sip it, with a nonchalant, "Hey, Chief."

Behind your sunglasses, your eyes linger over the white tshirt sticking to his skin in the heat. He notices. His breath catches.

"You know each other?" Anne asks.

"Oh. You know: trouble ," you joke, pointing to yourself. Hopper doesn't laugh. Not when he sees the cut of your bikini through the cover, the heave of your breasts when you sigh. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"Chief, y/n and I went to school together; convinced me to take business classes. She's part of the reason today is even happening!" Anne explains.

Hopper swallows more champagne, realizes his glass is now empty.

"Well, aren't we the lucky ones?" he chides.

"Save a bottle for us? We're catching up," y/n tells Anne, points to Hop.

She gives a quick nod, meeting her friend's gaze, acknowledging that there's something here.

"Of course," she hands them another glass. "Meet you out there," Anne nods to the water.

Now alone, Hopper growls low in his throat.

"You better not be making a scene, sweetheart." He speaks quietly, glancing around at how much distance is between them and the nearest guest.

"Oh, I won't," you hum, removing the bathing suit cover, tossing it on the chair beside him.

His jaw goes slack, eyes gawking at every inch of you. He grinds his teeth.

And then he's watching you walk to the tiki bar, lean over on it, say something to Anne while you know his eyes are on you. She points to some small building with "changing station" scrolled on a wood sign.

Your ass looks good in that bikini, he thinks.

When the two of you walk toward the water, Hopper bites his tongue. Anne is in some kinda one piece, but his eyes are glued to you.

You, stepping below one of the sprayers, letting the cool water mist across your chest. You, tensing up when one of the buckets pours down from above; the force gapping your bikini top just a little; making him groan.

He imagines your nipples are hard from the cold water, imagines kissing that spot at the curve of your neck where your shoulder meets, the relief of having your wet body pressed against him in this heat; how he'd rut against you until his cock leaks.

Cock hardening in his swimtrunks, Hopper shifts again, sits forward, places his forearms on his thighs, body in a slouch to sheath him.

Fuck, he wants to touch himself. But obviously not here.

Trying to distract himself, he looks over to find El sitting in the shallow end with Max. Safe, he's glad.

He knows you're putting on this show for him.

"It's so refreshing," you call to him and he notices you walking closer now that your friend is chatting with someone else. You're near him now, standing close enough for him to see the water dripping down your skin. "Come join me."

"I can't, " he grumbles.

"What? Why not?"

Hopper looks at you with a dumbfounded expression.

"You know why."

"Oh!" You lick your lips, sit at the foot of his beach chair. "You hard for me, Jim Hopper?"

His eyes widen behind his sunglasses, "Keep it down. Jesus."

"You can't seem to keep it down, huh, honey?" You speak only a little quieter. "No one can hear us."

He's trying to ignore you, block out the look of your lips when you finish your glass of champagne, the soft hum you make, the chill bumps appearing on your skin when the wind blows.

"When you've had enough, I'm told the changing station locks."

With that, you leave him again.

When he lost control of this whole thing, he'll never know.

He's trying his damnedest to get ahold of himself, but any time his erection starts fading, he has a thought about the changing station or your previous nights together and he's right back at attention again.

It's getting uncomfortable. Between that and the heat, he finds his breathing labored.

When you come back for another glass of champagne, you've got the whole bottle and an ice bucket.

"More?" You ask as you approach.

Fuck.

You're too close, looking like that.

You pour another glass, the condensation dripping down your arms, onto his body, stinging him yet feeling so good.

Fuck.

You sit down in the chair beside him, lean back, close your eyes, and soak up some sun.

You've put an ice cube on your belly, moved it around to cool you down, but now it sits in a puddle on your skin, melting by the second.

Hopper focuses on it, sees you shift those perfect thighs as you readjust.

Fuck.

He bites his cheek, stares at the sky, unable to sit back like that or the neighborhood will be talking about big Jim's hard on at the splash zone opening event.

Talk about a splash zone...

"Y/n..." He hums it, low in his throat, a warning. You need to leave . Or he's going to do something stupid.

You lower your glasses at him, glance over, secretly trying to peek at his little problem .

"They're about to start the raffle. People will be distracted," you stand and he watches the ice cube and water slide down your body, down your thighs...

"Meet you in there?"

He glances up at you, eyes desperate, fingers twitching to just pull you down on his lap, grind himself against you, take you right in the open. With you looking down at him like that...in this chair...he's practically pussy-level.

Before he knows it, he's watching you walk away, seeing the little shrug you give him when you close the changing room door.

He gives it a minute, is tempted to wrap his towel around himself, for fucks sake. He's sweaty enough to have someone believe he was in the water.

Minutes tick by and he's able to settle down a little, focus on the movement of employees, the prepwork going into setting up the doorprizes for the raffle.

He's grateful you're friends with the owner. Maybe that's what you'd been chatting with her about. He doesn't even care if she knows about your little fling. All he cares about is fucking you in that changing station right now.

"Alright! If we can have everyone grab their tickets, we're going to get started with our prizes!!"

Free shit gets people moving real quick. He glances at El who's too engrossed in conversation to notice.

And he stands, crumples his towl in front of him in the least conspicuous way he can, and books it for the changing station.

It takes a second for his eyes to adjust, but he sees a wall of lockers, some showers, and you smirking at him.

"You cruel, cruel woman..." he strides toward you, removes his sunglasses, doesn't even care that the door didn't lock behind him.

You squeak when he picks you up, presses your back to the nearest wall as he kisses you roughly.

A moan leaves him at the feeling of your wet bathingsuit against his warm body.

"Hop, the door, baby..." you remind him, trying to reach it yourself.

His hand juts out, swipes the lock shut, returns to kissing you.

"Off. Now." He's pulling at your bikini top, trying desperately to get your tits in his mouth.

"I want you shirtless, Jim," you moan out as he's kissing your chest.

"Mhm. I know, baby. I know," he groans when the top falls to the ground. "First I need to feel you,."

His finger dips under your bikini bottoms, feels you dripping wet, swollen with arousal.

"Oh, fuck..." he can't help but cuss. "That little teasing do something for you too? God..."

You nod against him, "and your body. Fuck, Hop, you in that shirt. I could see the outline of your body," you moan when he inserts another finger into you. "You had to know what you were doing."

He hadn't, but he'll play that way, act like he'd been very aware.

"Cum on my fingers, sweetheart. Cum for me. And then I'll fill you up."

He knows you thrive on the dirty talk, sees you glancing down between your bodies to watch his forearm flexing as he pumps his fingers into you.

When he puts his mouth on your left tit, you arch against him, let out a soft whine. He feels your walls clenching around him, puts more intensity in his movements to help your orgasm along.

And then you're clawing at his shirt, kissing him roughly, sloppy, moaning into his mouth.

Hopper can feel precum leaking, inhales sharply as he sets you down on wobbly legs.

You paw at his shirt and he obliges, removing the sweaty thing and tossing it to the bench beside the lockers.

The room is stifling, fans lazily spinning overhead, but Jim is drenched in sweat.

You eagerly touch him, fondle his love handles, kiss his biceps, grind your lower half against him. Hopper loops his fingers under your bikini bottoms and pulls them down your legs, leaves you completely bare for him.

His swimtrunks are tented, and he feels his cock pulse at the look of you - wet and desperate before him.

"Go start the shower," he instructs.

As he watches you walk there and open the curtain, he steps out of his swimtrunks, pumps a fist over his hardened cock. The slightest touch to his tip has him hissing an inhale.

He follows you there, surprises you when he presses your back to the wall under the spigot, forearm above your head, kisses you wantingly. "Legs on my shoulders," he speaks, lowering himself to his knees.

You're hesitant, he can tell. "Dont worry. I've got you."

His hands cup your ass, holding you up as you lean against the wall, drape your legs over his hunched position, knees on his shoulders.

And then his mouth is on you and you're gasping once more.

Hopper eats you out like you're his hydration for the day. You're dizzy with arousal, you find solace in the metal fall bars on the shower wall.

Hopper can't help but pump his hand around his cock when you've steadied yourself more.

"Don't," you urge, moaning as he flicks his tongue across your clit. "Dont cum. Not yet, Hop. Please. I want you in my mouth."

The growl that leaves him vibrates against your pussy and you're coming on his tongue in moments.

He helps you to the ground, stands, gets pelted in the face by the shower water. As he makes sure you're steady, his mouth drops open at the sight of you on your knees for him.

He throws his head back when you deep throat him, says your name like a curse, doesn't hold back from pounding into your mouth.

"Oh, fuck, good girl. God damn...so close."

His orgasm hits him quickly and he's thankful for the release, finally, gasping out your name. You choke on the amount which he finds so sexy, but you swallow him down. When he's finished, the feel of you swirling your tongue over his corona sends chills through him.

He shudders, feels your mouth pop off him, watches you turn off the water, realizes he's still hard.

"Fuck, I need to feel you," he kisses you, this time more intimate, less needy and heated.

You lean into the kisses, stroke your hand down his facial hair, fondle his torso, press an open hand to his neck in a mock choke.

"Yes, sir."

You lead him away, sit him on top of his towel on the bench, grab two folded towels to place beside him, and straddle his thighs.

His cock finds your opening quickly as you sink down on him; the initial feeling making his eyes close.

He doesn't rut up into you, but instead allows you to move at your own pace.

His hands trail down your torso, landing on your hips and gripping them, helping you along.

Watching you ride his cock, he moans as you slam down on him, hitting you deep.

Your nails dig into his shoulders and he's sure you'll leave marks again just when the last ones faded.

He'd stay like this all day, if he could.

The urgency you feel when someone pulls at the locked door, you feel your cheeks heat up, pull your bare breasts closer toward Hopper's body.

He chuckles, listening to the footsteps retreating, thankful you know the owner.

Your hair is still dripping wet from the shower and he enjoys watching the beads of water trail between your breasts. It's mesmerizing.

You grip his shoulders harder, pull him in for a kiss, moan against his mouth. The sounds you're making alert him that you're coming. He hadn't even realized you were close.

"Mmm, there you go, sweetheart. Oh fuck, so wet for me."

You slouch against him, heavy breaths on his skin.

He loves feeling you this close, enjoys the way you let him manhandle you after you're done.

Hopper tilts your chin up as he lifts and drops you in his lap. The way you're looking at him, the feel of your slick pussy...he can't help but be close.

"Get off," he grunts.

"I did!" you gasp.

Swiftly, he lifts you off of him, sets you on the floor before him.

You're about to protest when you watch his hand cup around his erection, jerking himself off.

You always love watching the muscles move in his forearm when he's masturbating. You understand now what he wants.

You kneel again, get ready, trace your hands over his thick thighs, ghost your fingers over his balls.

Hopper moans.

"Wanna see your tits painted," he huffs out.

It's warm when his cum hits your breasts. Hopper moans loudly as the look of you before him, eager, dick drunk, streaks of his cum sliding down your perfect tits.

He leans forward, kisses you with such passion, such need and warmth, you never want it to stop.

Your knees ache from the tile, but he helps you stand, starts the shower water, helps rinse you off and clean you up.

His hand trailing all over your skin, you're heated once more yet so pleased.

Hopper takes good care of you, almost lulling you to sleep. Between the champagne, the orgasms, and the heat you want a nap.

"You've been so good to me today, baby girl." At his words, you nod. "You fucked out? Too cockdrunk to walk?" He's teasing but, damn, does he love seeing you like this.

"M'fine," you urge, kiss him again while he gets your bikini top clipped.

Your skin looks irritated from the biting and his facial hair, but he can't help kissing your skin again.

"You don't stop now, we'll never leave."

He hums. You're right.

It's decided you'll sneak out seperate.

"Do this again soon?" he asks, grabbing his towel.

"Please," you respond, kissing him once more.

Quickly, Hopper sneaks out of the changing station, sunglasses on, walks calmly to his chair again. He smirks at the look your friend is giving him, nods a 'thank you' her way.

He sits down, cusses at the burning sensation from the chair sitting in the sun.

And he realizes.

He left his shirt.

Fuck.

He hopes El doesn't notice the nail marks on his shoulder.

Moments later, his eyes meet yours before you slide your sunglasses on.

Your knees are still marked, bruised from the tile floor you knelt on. His shirt is pulled over your body, wet spots from where your bikini hits.

He thinks you're leaving, but you approach your friend, grab a glass of champagne, and approach him.

"Thanks for a nice time, sir. Glad Anne made good on your invite she promised me," you wink at him, taking a sip then handing him the champagne.

You little...-

He watches you walk right out of the park.

Until next time.

[palmtreesx3]

King of Wishful Thinking - Pt 2

1978

Steve Harrington x Reader

The ongoing saga of Steve Harrington's declarations of love for you being discouragingly, hilariously and ironically stolen from him.

Previous (1974) || Series Masterlist || Next

Summary: Steve is a few years older and becoming more aware of how the world - his world - works. To his surprise, you're in his homeroom this year and he's thrilled to inch closer all year long...and eventually take a risk.

-----

Steve Harrington had very little for also having so much. His parents kept him so busy, he always felt like he was performing. For who? He wasn't so sure, but he was pretty sure by this point in his life that the world was a stage and his parents plopped him right front and center for a show. By 6th grade it was piano lessons on Monday, basketball on Tuesdays and Thursdays, swim every Wednesdays and most Saturdays he was ushered off to baseball. He liked the sports. It gave him a purpose. It kept him busy and it didn't really matter if the other kids liked him or not.

Steve could argue that he didn't really have many friends. Lots of people were always around him - classmates, teammates, other adults .. sure, but not actual friends. When everyone was invited to classmates Birthday parties, his parents rarely found the invitation high enough on their social calendar to make sure he attended. If it wasn't something that made them look better, he didn't get to go. So while his classmates spent weekends at the park running around with one another or meeting up at Julie or Tommy's birthday parties, he found himself sitting idly at the Country Club while his cheeks were getting pinched by older women he has never met before. It was terribly embarrassing for a kid who was just shy of being a teenager.

In all his downtime tagging along with his mom and dad, Steve became a silent observer - noticing subtle things that most would miss. He wasn't surprised when he overheard his mother gossiping on the phone about Janet Parsons fling with the cart boy at the Country Club. Steve noticed when her skirts got shorter and she started spending her days on the Green instead of poolside. He sensed the subtle shifts in his household when he scored a few points in the winning basketball game compared to the days where Jimmy Toth scored most of the points instead of Steve. The latter were days that Steve would rather spend hidden in his room to avoid any unwarranted snarky comments from his father. He could tell that his mother doted just a little more on the days he wore his khakis and a polo instead of his t-shirts and tube socks that made him feel a bit more like the kids he went to school with. He knew that Mrs King, his homeroom teacher, takes lemon in her morning tea and preferred to write with blue pens instead of black ink.

But that year, 12 year old Steve Harrington noticed a lot about you. The little fruit snacks girl from the playground. He's seen you around school for the last few years, never really crossing paths. He heard his dad telling his friends once that "Steve's not in those classes that the smart kids get assigned to" so he always assumed that you were way more intelligent than he'd ever be and he'd be doomed to just daydream about the cute girl hiding under the willow tree when he was 8 years old. But that fall, he clambered into Mrs King's homeroom on the first day of school and stopped dead in his tracks. You were sitting there perched in the second row - the perfect spot for someone not quite a teacher's pet but always paying attention. Pigtails long gone and replaced by a sweet barrette sweeping back your glossy hair from your eyes.

And he guessed that he really wasn't that far off about his assumption that he'd be doomed to daydream about you for all of eternity. More often than not he found himself distracted by you, chin in his hands. He may as well have little hearts in his eyeballs, that's how he felt looking at you. You answered questions so confidently. Smiled and laughed with the girls around you - the ones you walked through the hallway with to the next class and ate lunch with on the lawn - your real friends, he lamented.

He noticed that your chapstick was strawberry flavored. He noticed that you rode Bus 16, so that meant you lived on the other side of town. He noticed that you always had a little pink journal in your backpack tucked between library books, so you must love to write or draw. And the books, they changed so frequently he knew you were definitely a bookworm. He loved when you would wear your rain boots to school, especially when they didn't match your outfit. He saw that you often had colorful band aids slapped somewhere on your knees or legs and always wondered if they were a result of you being more adventurous or more clumsy. He was pretty sure you were into Star Wars after he noticed the pigtails return, but instead of dragging across your shoulders like they did when you were small, they were tied up, wrapped around themselves in buns like Princess Leia. Yeah, you were definitely cooler and smarter than he'd ever be.

After half a year of pining over you from afar, he made a decision. He changed his seat. Steve didn't move too far up front - he wasn't absolutely crazy - but after much consideration he chose a seat that not only he could see you but maybe you could see him too. He spent the next month exchanging a few words with you whenever he could and with extra supplies curated specifically for you in his backpack. When you rummaged around your bag looking for your favorite pen, he passed a spare Shuttle Pen with loads of extra colors across the rows and he just so happened to tell you "You can keep that one" when you go to return it. He traded his go-to cinnamon gum with spearmint in case you needed a piece. He used that carefully honed skill of observation to his absolute advantage, hoping to anticipate your every move and be there to save the day when you needed it.

Now that Steve wasn't hiding in the back of the classroom he also found himself making friends with the other kids around him each morning. He was grateful to have people his own age to talk to and found he looked forward to going to school a bit more every day now that other kids seemed like they were happy to see him, too. Because of this, in some ways, Steve considered you the reason school started to seem less like a chore. If he didn't pick a new seat just to get closer to you, it would have never happened.

As the summer months creeped closer, the classrooms becoming more humid than the air outside, Steve mustered up the little confidence he did have to slave away on a note for you. He spent two weeks writing draft after draft in his best handwriting, filling his garbage pail next to his desk about three times over before he was happy with the results. He meticulously folded the note into the perfect shape, edges tucked in and crisp. He zipped it in the front pouch of his backpack and marched off into the school with a sense of vigor - a little pep in his step.

And so he sits, tapping his toes on the tiled floors that morning, turning the carefully crafted note over in his hands while he waited for you to slide into your seat for the day. It wasn't long before you bustled in with the friends that sat around you, smiling like sunshine. Feeling a bit bold in the final hour, Steve reached in his bag for a pen and scribbled a little heart on the outside of the note before tapping the boy in the row next to him on the shoulder. He motions to Tommy, signaling for him to pass the note over to you with a jerk of his chin in your direction.

In the next few moments Steve is elated. He's nervous. He's feeling optimistic. He just wants to be the reason you smile. The boy next to him grins wide, giving him a thumbs up before swinging his legs around in his chair and leaning over the isle, hand outstretched with the note - the sweet declaration of admiration and innocent young love, addressed to "The prettiest girl on the playground." Steve's eyes are wide in excitement, fingers tapping on the edge of his desk and before he knows it the note lands right in the hands of your friend, Veronica Campbell. She looks at the boy next to her curiously as he jabs his thumbs in Steve's direction, still grinning. A shy smile unfolds on Veronica's face when she sees the heart, and time slows down like a snail as Steve watches desperately as Veronica opens the note meant for you.

Veronica freaking Campbell squealed as she read the note. Passed it around all the girls in your group, all giddy and peeking over the classroom desks in Steve's direction. Steve felt immediately like an idiot for writing a note that left out your actual name, but all he could do was sit there smiling back at the group of murmuring girls - you included - excited for their friend who was now the first of the lot to garner the affections of a boy - or so they thought. But, oh God, little did they know it's been you that's wormed your way deep into his brain and you've lived there for years already. If only they all knew. If only you knew and God damn Tommy to hell for being so stupid and passing the note to the wrong girl. Steve didn't have the heart to correct the mistake.

And that is exactly how Steve Harrington got his first girlfriend.

A little meek and absolutely playing his part, just like he does in all the other walks of his life, he finishes out his 6th grade year holding Veronica's clammy hand in the hallways. Sharing the spearmint gum meant for you with her. Veronica wasn't all that bad, as far as first girlfriends go, either. She was nice, and pretty. She thought that it was so cool that Steve had a pool in his backyard and wondered if they'd be allowed over this summer to swim. He never thought about the things he had before in that way, and so he too wondered if his parents would allow some friends over to swim. Maybe they'd like him even more that way.

And that's where he found that the silver lining in all of this was that as he walked hand in hand with her, he got to spend more time with you, too. You talked directly to him now instead of just existing in the same space. When Veronica asked him to sit with her at lunch, it meant that he could also hear you talk about your most recent borrowed book. You now knew that he played sports at fancy private clubs instead of park leagues and that he wasn't being rude when he didn't go to your birthday party when the rest of the class showed up, it was just that his parents didn't let him do any of that. Steve sometimes felt bad that his attention still drifted to you, but that was a problem for another day. Because right now Steve Harrington had a role to play, and if he knows how to do anything well, it's be what someone else wants him to be.

[johndpg]

MEMORIES OF SCHOOLDAYS #2

PANTS OFF FOR PE

During my first week at grammar school, our form master Mr J told us not to bring in any kit for our first Games lesson and said instead we were to go to the New Sports Hall (that’s what everybody called it, even though it was built at least 20 years ago).

PE was indoors in the gym or the New Sports Hall (lol) and my form had one lesson a week. The whole first form had Games on Wednesday afternoons and, because each form was assigned to one of four Houses, they wanted to mix us up, so the Houses could compete. Lower School boys also got one swimming lesson a week (good times) and I think my form joined with another one for that.

So, that first Wednesday, I lined up with 150 or so other excitable 11-year-olds outside the New Sports Hall. A boy near me in the queue (no idea who he was now) announced conspiratorially that “you’re not allowed to wear pants under your shorts” and that it must be true because he had an older brother at the school. We just laughed at him. Who’d ever heard of such nonsense!

Once the PE teachers had got us inside and settled down, they went through the sports we’d be doing. In the Autumn/Spring terms there was football (excellent), hockey (hmm, okay), rugby (do I have to?) and cross country (fuck off). In Summer there was athletics (great), cricket (excellent) and badminton (sounds fun). They put us in groups of 30 to 40, which included boys from all four Houses.

Mr P took us for PE in the gym. As we were getting changed for our first lesson into our kit of white vest and shorts, he delivered the surprising instruction not to put on our vests. So, of course we didn’t and, in fact, never did. Like every other boy, I had to do PE topless until the sixth form.

He was a middle-aged, taciturn man who used to glower and pull faces at what he called our “pathetic effort” at physical education. But he could be fun too. He’d let us play Pirates if we begged hard enough, where you had to get round the gym without touching the floor. One day, though, he was away and Mr M, the head of PE, took the lesson. He was a stocky, blond man who had played semi-professional football back in the day. As he exited the changing room I can recall his exact words because of the consternation it created then, but more because of what happened later—“Remember, gentlemen, nothing under your shorts.”

There was concerned chatter throughout the changing room, some voices disbelieving, others mutinous. One boy next to me said, “I’m not.” to which I replied, “Well I’m not going to risk it.” Being so young, I’m not sure I can recall any difference wearing my shorts without pants, although maybe things were a bit breezier!

Mr M’s approach to teaching PE was very different to Mr P. He was much more engaged and enthusiastic, and his loud voice was frequently heard booming “Well done!” and “Good!” Over half of us couldn’t climb the ropes, so he showed us his technique; later, he climbed up behind one boy who couldn’t get further than a few feet off the floor and kept pushing him up higher with the top of his head! The boy was probably terrified, but it was very funny to watch, and we cheered and clapped. The other big difference was the large plimsoll he had tucked under his arm when he let us into the gym. I knew boys got the slipper in senior school and eyed it nervously when he slapped it down on a windowsill with some other things he was carrying.

Mr P was back as normal for our next lesson and I guess most of us kept our pants on as before (you know, like we’d been doing for all of our lives).

Flash forward a few months, to maybe after Christmas? It was definitely still winter, as the big gym was fucking freezing. I’m not sure a vest would have added much insulation, but every little helps. We were doing exercises in different spots around the room—running, skipping, jumping, push-ups, that kind of thing. Mr M suddenly appeared and beckoned Mr P over. The latter blew his whistle, so we stopped and waited. There was a muttered conversation and Mr P left and Mr M announced that he was taking over the class.

Five/ten minutes later there was another whistle blast, so we stuttered to a stop again. I remember I was at the back of the gym doing a thing where you had to work your way down a bench by putting your hands flat on it and jumping from one side to the other. I looked over to Mr M who was pointing at a boy. “Are you wearing underpants?” The boy mumbled, “Yes, Sir,” and looked at his feet. The class was frozen in place like an Edwardian tableau—because he wasn’t the only culprit. I remember thinking the 11-year-old equivalent of oh shit. Mr M must have read the room. “Are there any other boys wearing underpants?” he enquired. A couple of hands went up. There was silence as he scanned our faces. “Anyone else?” After some nervous foot shuffling a few more hands were raised. His veiled threat that, “It will be the worst for you if you don’t own up now” was met with a flurry of the remaining hands, mine included. I’m pretty sure he was taken aback but he just said, “All of you go and get changed and get back here. You’ve got two minutes—go!”

My whole form fled the gym, there were no mutineers this time! I had to run the length of the room and then down two flights of stairs to the changing room. The boys who’d been nearest the gym doors were already on their way back up! I was running out of time. Where was my peg? There! Shorts down, pants off, shit they’re caught on my foot, hop, hop, shorts back on, go, go, go! I raced up the two flights of stairs, getting out of breath now, and burst through the gym doors. Was I back in time? At least I wasn’t last.

The boys who had reached the gym ahead of me were in a line facing the doors, so that was a surprise. Many were still red-faced and panting because of our sudden burst of exertion. Well, it was a PE lesson, I suppose! I didn’t need to be told to take the next place in the line, and the boys who came running in after me likewise fell in, huffing and puffing.

Mr M regarded us sternly. I don’t recall what he said exactly, it was so long ago, but he started along the lines of, “You were all told underpants must not be worn during PE or Games lessons” because I remember thinking no, we bloody weren’t (well, certainly not officially lol). Then it was hygiene this blah, blah, having to wear wet or muddy underpants in class that blah, blah. He emphasised his points with the plimsoll that seemed to have magically appeared in his hand. It was white once but now grubby with ingrained dirt, and the laces were missing. Then he told all of us to touch our toes.

I’d never been ordered to bend over before, so at a loss to know exactly what to do, I literally touched the top of my plimsolls, which left me in a wobbly, half-crouching position. My legs were shaking, which didn’t help, and my mouth was dry, because I remember trying to swallow as I stared at the wooden parquet floor between my feet. I can still recall the boy who was bending over to my left, let’s call him Nixon, because of something that happened afterwards. I saw he was grasping his legs above his ankles, so I did the same. That was much better. We exchanged a glance, telepathically communicating our fear, and then both went back to staring at the floor.

I daren’t look up or around to see what was happening, so my ears were working overtime. Suddenly, there was a resounding whack as Mr M slippered the first boy in line to my left, followed by a youthful “Ahh!” “Go to the wallbars.” “Yes, Sir!” Less than five seconds later came the second whack and another boy’s exclamation of pain. “Go to the wallbars.” Five seconds… Another whack. “Go to the wallbars.” By the fifth boy or so it was just “Wallbars” and shortly afterwards the even more direct “Go!”

I was about two-thirds of the way along the line, so it probably took Mr M ninety seconds or so to work his way towards my small backside, protected only by a pair of white, nylon shorts. It seemed to take much longer as I waited, gripping my ankles. Whack, whack, whack!… Unhurried, remorseless… Getting nearer! I was keenly aware of his presence when he finally arrived behind Nixon. I strained my eyeballs to the left to see what was happening. Nixon’s eyes were screwed shut. I could see the bottom of Mr M’s legs and his feet. There was a pause, then the now-familiar whack of the slipper in action, much louder now it was happening right next to me. Nixon jolted and yelped. “Go!” said Mr M and with a “Yes, Sir!” the boy was up and away in a flash. And then Mr M WAS STANDING DIRECTLY BEHIND ME.

I had an upside down view of his feet between my trembling legs. I wanted a piss so badly. I felt him grip my waistband and hitch up my shorts, and then a second later his plimsoll made contact with the middle of my buttocks and there was a bright flash of heat. Now it was my turn to jerk forward with an audible “Ahh!” “Go!” he ordered, “Yes, Sir!” I squeaked and scampered over to the wallbars, rubbing my backside as I went. It wasn’t so much hurting as tingling, and I could feel the spreading warmth from that one whack.

I exchanged a relieved grin with Nixon. We had to stand the other side of the wallbars because of the number of boys waiting there now, and we casually leant back against the wall. We didn’t realise it would be icy cold in the unheated gym in winter and both jumped when it touched our bare skin, but then, oh my God, it felt amazing against our hot bottoms, especially through nylon shorts with no pants! I remember we looked at each other in surprise and delight. Nixon put his hands on his knees and pushed back, so I did likewise, and we pulled silent, laughing faces.

Meanwhile, Mr M was finishing-off the last ten boys or so with the same, measured pace. Whack! “Go!”… Whack! “Go!” It probably took him less than three minutes to slipper every boy in the form. I was 11 (my birthday is at Easter) but some of them would been 12 already. When all of us were assembled at the wallbars he told us, “If I catch another boy in this form wearing underpants, it won’t be the slipper, it’ll be the cane!”, again waving his plimsoll at us for emphasis. During my entire time at the school, I never heard of a PE teacher caning anybody, so I’m sure he only said that to impress upon us the gravity of such a heinous crime. He checked his watch; there was only ten minutes of the lesson left, so he dismissed us early.

For the rest of that year and the whole of the next, winter or summer, indoors or out, rain or shine (or even snow on a few occasions!), I was a committed freeballer. I’m pretty sure the rest of my form was as well. We started to get more cavalier about the no-pants rule in the third form because we were teenagers then and knew everything, and didn’t bother with it at all in the Upper School… Unless you knew for sure you’d got Mr M for a lesson, and then even at 16 it was definitely pants off, just in case.

That was far from the last time my backside got acquainted with Mr M’s slipper. Stay tuned!

[redrikki]

Teen Wolf Rewatch 2.09 Party Guessed

Lydia's opening layered hallucination nightmare hallucination was terrifying! For those of you who are keeping track, there have been 4 moons in the show thus far, thus making it the full moon in April, aka the pink moon. The vibes for the worm moon are better though, feels like a rebirth, so that's what they went with.

I like to rag on this show for the writers not being able to keep track of details, but they're actually pretty good at foreshadowing. They set up Victoria's suicide and the knife she prefers over pills back in 2.03. The rave was on Friday night and the full moon is on Wednesday. Victoria has had 5 days to talk to Allison, but while she's bad ass enough to kill herself for family honor, she's too much of a coward to explain how she came to be bitten or why she isn't even going to try to manage her condition. The scene is set up like a tragedy and I feel for Allison, but fuck her for real.

Let's talk hallucinations. Allison confronts her stalker and then is stalked by her shadow self. Holy self-loathing and internalize mysogony, Batman! She hates her weaknesses and fears her darkness. Stiles sees his dad ranting about how killed his mother and ruined Noah's life. Guilt for having gotten his dad fired mixed with lots of self-loathing for being a "difficult" kid and a dash of fear about his father's alcoholism. Scott sees Allison making out with Jackson and then the kanima. Manifestation of his jealousy and possibly a fear that Allison is only into him because she's a monster fucker. Jackson sees his faceless bio parents and has his face erased. Clearly that's about his lack of sense of self and also the realization he's being erased.

Derek gets his wolves ready for the full moon. Boyd did his homework! Derek articulates the idea that the three states of wolf are fluid. Pain jolted Scott back to himself, but not Erica or Boyd for some reason. Isaac figured out his anchor first, even before Scott did. It's his happy memories of when his father wasn't a piece of shit. Not sure how I would about that. How the fuck does Lydia know where to find Derek let alone find the strength to get him from there to the Hale house?

Stray thoughts: Jackson breaks through enough to warn Lydia, but he does it at school when it's supposed to be spring break. Stiles is still working the case and he and Noah figure out the swim team connection.

[bullet-prooflove]

Donna’s Wednesday Radio Show Prompt List #25

It’s that time again! The Wednesday Radio prompt list!

Please check the updated character list on my pinned post to see who I am writing for before submitting a prompt!

Also read the rules and do not forget to put the entire prompt into your ask!

There's a still in the street outside your window

Watching your dress as you turn down the light 

The fights, those nights, I tried to pretend it don't hurt,

Baby, you found another lady

We had the songs that we sang along to

And you're keepin' secrets on your pillow

Let me inside, no cause for alarm

You had the moves to make me dance with you

We carved our names into the bark To be there when we're not

Did you get out I'm wondering where you are?

And if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonigh

She says her love for me could never die But that'd change if she ever found out about you and I

You're in the darkness all alone

I always saw you reaching and catching stars

someone's out there, sending out flares

Did you break but never mend?

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

Did you feel the smoke in your eyes

Did you love but never learn?

When we come down Off our high 

Some asshole broke me in Wrecked all my innocence

Shoulda known you was trouble from the first kiss

Giving is good as long as you're getting

I prayed someday that you would love me

Did I really hear you say it's over

Beat me 'til I'm numb

You are not alone

And if you're feeling too close Then we're doing all right

Did it hurt so much you thought it was the end?

We promised that we'd never part On a tree, under the stars

We had the thing that everyone wanted

Hung on your sleeve, you wore your heart on it

 this dance is on you

Wouldn't hurt her if she didn't know

I promise tonight not to do no harm

Think about me, when you're lonely

 you're the one that always turns me on

Girl's playin' bad 'cause it doesn't pay to be good

Heartache and pain came a-pouring down 

Got you under my clothes

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

A cruel king made me tough

Heard that she found another guy

I see you layin' there with me Like my missing puzzle piece

Yes, I would die for ya, baby

what the fuck is up with that? 

I remember you and me

Can't believe I stayed with you so long

I know her love is true But it's so damn easy makin' love to you

Now I hear that you want me back

Mad woman, bad woman

You’re such a joke to me

I'm the king, and you're the queen, and we will stumble through heaven

 I've spent the night crying on the floor of my bathroom

Don't bend, don't break, baby, don't back down

And we're caught up in the crossfire Of heaven and hell

Want a good thing, put the money down first

Never lose control

You broke my world, made me strong

I forget all about the storm outside

you said you loved me, you're a liar

Drinking, kissing in the street We couldn't get enough

Show me how good you are

There's only one me and you cannot replace me

You taught me some lessons, those are my blessings

Do you ever think about me

And it's now or never

Daddy's girl's never good enough

Dark clouds roll their way over town

And I've been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool

When you're feeling low, do you want to call

When times are hard and you need the love to turn to

He says, "Ooh, baby girl, don't get cut on my edges

Better stand tall when they're calling you out

So what, I drink and smoke too much

You hit, you spit, you split, every bit of me,

I'm the king of everything and oh, my tongue is a weapon

And when the hardest part is over we'll be here

 our dreams will break the boundaries of our fears

I know you wanna go to heaven

Boundaries of our fears

fuck in the bathroom

 drowning my thoughts out with the sounds

I would given you everything, morning through night

If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes

[artzychic27]

So I’ve just watched the first episode of Wednesday, thoughts? (If you’ve seen it)

And thoughts on it asthe Artist Family version?

I watched the whole damn season, and all I can say is… LATINA REP, BITCHES! I fucking LOVE Jenna Ortega! And her choreography? *chef’s kiss* Also, you can’t tell me Wednesday and Enid aren’t in love, because I will put piranhas in your bathtub while you’re in it

And now... The Artist Family 🫰🏾🫰🏾 (Also, Science Kids + Austins are in this AU)

Marinette’s expelled! And for no good reason at all!

Some guys on the water polo team shoved Nathaniel in a locker, so naturally, Marinette put piranhas in the pool while they were swimming and one of them but one guy’s dick off... Seems like they were overreacting

Fortunately, attempted murder won’t go on her permanent record. Think of the shame... Attempted murder.

Unfortunately, no other school in the district will take her thanks to the Artist’s reputation.

But fortunately again, there’s a wonderful school out in the woods, Corbeau Academy, a school for outcasts

While wandering around the woods for a while after getting chased out of their homes, Marc and Nathaniel used to go to Corbeau for about a year before... Complications. Marc was in the Eulogy Club, the Arachnid Club, and Nathaniel was captain of the fencing team and president of the Art Club who didn’t mind his “cursed paintings”

Although it’s the middle of the year, Headmistress Mendeleieve allows Marinette to attend due to her grades and the fact that Marc and Nathaniel made a good impression when they went to Corbeau and tasks Ismael, a Gremlin, to show Marinette to her dorm in Ophelia Hall

One of Marinette’s hall mates is Jean, a descendant of the inspiration for the Phantom of the Opera. He’s not entirely a phantom yet, only able to turn invisible and not do other ghost stuff. He somehow gravitated towards Marinette despite her coldness

In Ophelia Hall, she’s also introduced to the dorm mother, Irene Rossi

Before the Artists leave, Marc gives Marinette a crystal ball to call them, and Juleka gives Marinette a necklace made of obsidian

Unknown to Marinette, Nathaniel has That watch over her to make sure she doesn't try to escape. It doesn't take long for Marinette to find That and make them pledge their loyalty to her

Marinette’s not interested in being social. She’d rather figure out why she’s suddenly getting visions of the future, practice her violin, steer clear of the school’s “Queen Bee Siren,” and figure out who tried to kill her with a gargoyle

After escaping from therapy while in the town of Ville Normale, Marinette runs into some normies (Guess who) in a cafe who try to harass and intimidate her when they see her Corbeau uniform

But she beats all three of them up, catching the attention of the local sheriff and a certain brunette who likes wearing green

As soon as she gives her name, the Sheriff goes stark white and asks if she’s related to Nathaniel. With her answer, he backs away slowly while muttering, “He belongs behind bars.”

Of course, the fight gets her on the Headmistress’ bad side

Later that night, Marinette is on the balcony practicing her violin while Mendeleieve, some students, the Sheriff, and Austin Tomassian just go on about their activities

Jean, who’s also on the balcony makes their way over to Marinette just as the other Phantoms are circling around the school. When asked why they don’t join them, Jean explains he’s a late-bloomer and starts to cry as he remembers a visit to a doctor who reveals he may never become a full phantom

Marinette doesn't hold back on explaining her feelings towards crying, making Jean snap and ask if she’s ever cried.

She did... Once when she was younger. She was still living with her parents and they allowed her to have a pet tarantula she named Serafina. When taking Serafina out for a walk, a group of bullies cornered her and made her watch as they killed Serafina

That was the last time Marinette ever cried, because she knew her tears wouldn't bring Serafina back.

After Jean promises not to tell anyone, Marinette asks if she can borrow his computer to plan her escape and sends That with Jean’s number written on their palm

At a Harvest Festival, Marinette meets up with Austin Tomassian (her ride) who shows her a file she found in his parents’ office, showing Nathaniel’s criminal record prior to when the Artists became a family

Before Marinette escapes, she runs into the same guys from earlier, revealed to be Austins’ ex friends, and they chase her out into the woods. Just when Marinette thinks she lost them, she runs into Simon, a banshee and has a premonition of his death

Before she can warn him, he shows her a drawing his mother sketched when she was a student, depicting a woman who looks a lot like Marinette standing in front of fire as she faces off against an unknown figure in the school courtyard

Just as Simon’s about to use his Banshee scream to harm Marinette and prevent this future, he’s suddenly mauled by a monster

Marinette: ... I avoided death on two separate occasions, discovered Nathaniel might be more than an arsonist, uncovered the fact that I could be the one to destroy the school, and a homicidal monster might have just saved my life... I think I’ll grow to like it here.

*Marc, Nathaniel, Juleka, Rose, and Alix are calling her via Crystal Ball*

Marc: I told you so. Also, let’s keep that thing about Nathaniel to ourselves, okay?

[roo-bastmoon]

Roo is a little skeptical today

In which I ponder the likelihood of tattoos, ski trips, and becoming a workaholic recluse.

Okay, first of all, I have trust issues after being pranked so many times. I can clearly see Tae's 7 tattoo in the photo he posted on Insta, but I cannot see it in any of the stills from the swimming video he also posted.

Do you see it? Am I crazy? Is Mr. Kim pulling one over on us again?

That looks like a naked knee and thigh to me. Am I nuts? You can tell me I'm nuts. Maybe I need to get my eyes checked!

Second of all, it's entirely possible (and would be awesome!) if some of the tannies got to go skiing or snowboarding together right after such a hard day seeing Jin off into the military. Could totally happen.

But one account has Hobi with JK and Tae; the poster said they recognized Hobi and Tae and then identified JK by his hand tattoos... which, if you're skiing outdoors during a cold winter, aren't you wearing gloves? We have to take their word for it because they have no photos or other witnesses.

Then another account has a manager that's supposed to be with JK and Tae and Hyungsik of Wooga at a different resort. And it could all be true. But, if you're out on the slopes, why don't you put your expensive designer shoes in a locker? Why would you neatly line them up, bows tied, perfectly posed for photographic proof? Unless a staff/stalker did it while they were out on the hills? In which case, this is a bit of a violation, isn't it?

And the manager just happens to have the exact same pair of shoes as Hobi, but on a different day? So they go to two different ski resorts on Wednesday and Thursday of this week, and wear pristine shoes that they leave out for others to touch and photograph?

Ehhhhh.... It sorta feels like this is a set-up for misinformation. Which I guess happens. People want clout, or like to fool others... So I think I'll wait to hear from the members if they went, and then be happy they are getting out and having fun if so.

But on that note, I know Park Jimin is working his (super fine) ass off for his album these days, but we've barely seen him since the summer! He went to 2 soccer games, a play, and was tagged in a dinner pic with Hobi and Joon. He also went to see Sungwoon off into service, but that's hardly fun relaxing social times.

I hope Jimin is getting out covertly from time to time, letting off steam, so he can replenish his energy and creativity. But this is a man who used to practice until 4am in the studio, then get up and go to school at 6:30am. He just overworks himself. I'm so excited for PJM1 but I'm also excited for him to have a chance to rest and enjoy life a little (whether I can see it or not).

These have been today's skeptical thinky thoughts.

While I have you, are you streaming for BTS and voting for my fabulous bias Jimin? Only 9 days left, and there's a huge gap. All it takes is 2 clicks! You can vote twice ever six hours!

And on twitter, please use the hashtags:

I vote #JIMIN for Asian Celebrity of the Year #ACOTY2022#NETIZENSREPORT#ACOTY2022JIMIN

@thenreport

Plus also vote for this one.

Okay, thanks. I gotta get back to my deadlines. I love you guys. Bye!

[awkwardwithapause262]

Wednesday Season 1 Episode 2 Thoughts

I find it highly unbelievably that everyone took Rowan’s reappearance at face value especially in a school full of powered people, but I suppose even they rather say what’s happening isn’t happening and go about their day.

Choir, archery and beekeeping can’t be the only activities that have openings.

Maybe there’s more she just got sidetracked with who she thought to be Rowan.

Eugene hooked her with venomous insect.

Plus I don’t believe she’s familiar with beekeeping so that is the only activity she wouldn’t be completely miserable(getting bullied in choir)or bored in(because there isn’t any live targets in archery)

And also I think Eugene is the only person at Nevermore to approach her in a way that she’s not familiar, but comfortable with. Unlike Enid’s hug(not comfortable with) or Bianca’s bullying (familiar with)

I wish they would have done swimming club a little throw back to the movie, but suppose that has been done with the piranha incident or will be done with the canoe race.

Did Rowan drop the statue on Wednesday right after he threw Xavier against the wall? Nah right because there wouldn’t be anyway for Xavier to recover fast to get to Wednesday. And anyways it was right after Wednesday and Rowan left the infirmary so how did Rowan get up in the window so fast.

The way they cut that particular vision scene was choppy even the dialogue didn’t make sense. Which I guess is the point. Wednesday doesn’t know what’s going on and neither do we. all we know is Rowan and Xavier got in a big argument and Rowan got the drawing from a special book.

We really didn’t need to see Rowan dropping that statue because we already knew that from episode one.

It’s the head movements and slight facial expression from Jenna Ortega that makes her such a great actress. Wednesday’s head tilt from underneath Xavier’s bed when Bianca says she thinks she’s better than everyone like you got some nerve to be talking and the ever so slight uplift of her face when Eugene says are you willing to feel the sting.

How did Xavier hear what Wednesday said to Bianca before the race. Because he smiled right after she said it. I mean their canoes aren’t far apart but she didn’t seem to be speaking very loudly. And how strong is that one merman to push a canoe carrying four people. And in water your body has something pushing against it making it slower so the likelihood Thing would knock that siren out or even blacken it’s eye is slim to none. Unless because it’s a magical hand and a magical show the rules of reality don’t apply.

It would have been cute if the drawing Xavier made come to life was of a scorpion.

Okay so why is the headmistress allowing kids to mess around Crackstone’s crypt. He was a mass murderer just bad vibes all over that place. And also I can’t tell if she’s impressed or upset when Wednesday succeeds.

Professor Thornhill appears to on drugs with how psychotically overjoyed she is at the race.

When me and my sister watched the first episode I was like the monster is either the sheriff or his son. While either professor, headmistress or therapist is involved.

Might add more

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1994 I just got off the phone talking to Andy. Sure enough, the day he arrived the weather took a turn for the worst. Up till his arrival, the weather had been in the 50s. He said he was freezing the whole time and it never got up above 32º. He said all he could think about was me laughing at him.

He saw his family and said Linda’s daughter Samantha was cute which surprised him, cuz he too, thinks babies are ugly. I agree. They all look the same, too.

He said he just knows his 6-year-old nephew Brian’s going to be gay. Maybe so, cuz when Lisa was a baby I always felt she’d be into music, and I was right. Music and gayness run in families.

He stood at Mary’s and she, Adam and Adam’s best friend Mona from San Francisco and he went to dinner to celebrate Adam’s birthday. This girl Mona apparently moved back and is a topless dancer in Springfield. And is making way more than I did here. Andy says she’s blond with big tits, though, so maybe that’s why. I also think it’s cuz there are fewer topless bars in Springfield than there are in Phoenix. Andy, Adam, and 4 others went to a gay bar in Hartford and were shocked to see it was packed with wall-to-wall people. There he met up with an old lust object he met 15 years ago who wants to get back together with him. Andy said he would’ve if he lived there. The funniest part of it was when they left the bar after 5 hours. When he came out of the bar it was snowing really hard and all the cars were covered. Before that, when Mary came to wake him up at noon, she came into his room and said, “Look. I’ve got something to show you.” She pulled up the shade and there was a dusting of snow. He said he was like - oh my God! When he returned to Adam’s in Adam’s car, he had to do something he swore he’d never do again - clean snow off of a car. He had driven his father’s car over there.

He said no one bad-mouthed me. His mom said I turned out to be a beautiful girl and remembers when I was chunky. They asked if Tom and I were going to have a kid. Judy said she was glad I got to see Goldie and Al and said she always liked them.

He said he called Nervous and he actually talked to him. He wanted to go over and take a picture of him and Crystal, but he wouldn’t let him.

He slept from 4 AM to noon while he was there.

Well, that’s all for now. In a half-hour, I’m going to watch a movie I taped.

Later…

I watched a couple of movies I taped. They were so-so.

I tested Tom’s PrintBMP programs for bugs. So far, so good. I printed out 2” pictures all the way up to 11”. I printed out Piggy, Norah, and drawings I did of Linda and Gloria, as well as a couple off the top of my head.

I wallpapered the back wall of Piggy’s cage by taping pictures on from the outside facing in. One of Piggy, 2 of Norah, 2 Linda drawings and 3 Gloria drawings.

Tom got that envelope yesterday from my parents. It was a Phoenix Suns T-shirt. He really liked it as he really likes basketball.

I chatted with my dad earlier. I called Tammy too, who had a friend over at the time.

Another funny thing Andy said was how he missed his plane because he had to take a shit. He was delayed for two hours.

It’s not as cold here as it is in the east, but I wish it was in the 80s here like it is in Florida. It’s pretty chilly out there right now, but where my parents are you can lie out in the sun and go swimming. The pool temperature is 50º.

What should I do now? I guess I’ll pump in a little bit of fresh air and go start typing another document for Tom.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 1994 First I’ll go into detail about making the earrings, then into what Marjorie gave us. The earring kit came with 4 strips of soft metallic plastic. One strip makes 4 pairs. It also had the mold and the backings and parts. What you do is cut a strip in half and put them in a pot of hot water with a few drops of cooking oil so they don’t stick. Then, when they get soft and flimsy you take them out and press them into the earring mold. Then you set it in cold water for a couple of minutes, then take them out and trim off excess plastic on the outside of the mold and remove the mold. The last part’s easy. You peel off a dot over the adhesive, push the backing down into it and pull it out with its adhesive on it. Then you stick it wherever you want on the back of the earring, put the post on, and they’re ready to wear. I have a pink one, a green one, one with light pastel colors and one with darker colors. I just had a pair on but I had to take them off as they were irritating me. I can’t wear fake stuff in my ears.

Marjorie’s sister Margaret sent us a Christmas card and she also wished me a happy Chanukah. She lives in San Diego. She also gave us some cookies she made, some material and scissors that are great for cutting material. Now I can keep an extra pair in my room. We had one in the back room, one in the kitchen and one in the living room. I had a pair in my room, but they were quite little. The ones that were in the kitchen now live in my room and the ones Marjorie gave us are in the kitchen.

Later…

The good news is that I cut 30 square foot pieces of material and sewed them into 5 strips of 6. Then, I connected 2 of those strips side by side. The bad news is that when I went to attach the third strip, I got it backward, with the backside of the material facing the wrong way. Tomorrow, or whenever, I have to take the seam ripper and rip it off and put it right side up. Then hitch on the remaining 2 strips and hope I don’t fuck that up. Lastly, I’ll hem the 4 edges and hope to hell I’ve made a fairly decent quilt.

I have about 11 different patterns. The 7 Marjorie gave us, a sheet, an old dress, and those 2 from the material we got to make the 2 throw pillows that are on the living room couch.

Tonight there’s to be a movie on called Bionic Ever After. At least, I think that’s what it’s called. Lindsay Wagner and Lee Majors reunite to get married, I guess.

Tom says there’s also some bionic quiz on Prodigy, too. I’ll have to check that out in a little while.

We ordered stuff at dirt-cheap prices from a catalog. He got tools and I got Velcro sneakers, a nightie, and a few other things too, which I can’t remember.

Later…

I just finished typing up 25 and now it’s printing out. The next one (26) should go fast. It’s a 130-pager, but I only need to type up about 94 pages. The rest is letters or convos from tapes that I copied in.

As tired as I am I have to stay up till 2:00 to take Andy’s last tape out and put it with the rest of them by the door, even though Tom would gladly do it.

Tom’s going to tape the movie I mentioned earlier in his room and I’m going to tape a movie in the living room.

I let Andy know we’ll both be asleep, so he’ll use his key to let himself in quietly.

Tom left about an hour ago to go take his parents to the racetrack. Barely 5 minutes after he left Marge called saying Dad’s stomach was bothering him, but that maybe it’d be OK by the time he got there. I thanked her for the stuff, too. I guess he’s feeling better cuz Tom hasn’t returned. Maybe he’s over there chatting. I know how much they all like to talk.

Well, now I’m going to go check the printer. My stuff should be done printing any minute.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 1994 Wow! Only 8 more days to go! Can’t wait to get it over with and get on with life in stereo.

Last night at sundown was the beginning of Chanukah. I never lit the candles since being on my own and we doubt my parents would’ve sent the menorah, candles, and that plate if I weren’t married. Last night, or afternoon, I should say, I lit the candles. It was fun and interesting. Especially for Tom as this is all new to him.

I’m sure my parents tried to call, but I was in bed and Tom had the ringer off to do computer work. I talked to Tammy and Bill. Tammy said she appreciated the gifts. I’m glad she did.

I finished the Tammy and Sarah documents yesterday. And Shauna’s, too.

Yesterday morning Tom swept out the garage and I took all the trash out of his car. Tons of it.

Shortly after Tom got up, we screwed around. We experimented with different positions. It was fun and it’s getting easier.

Then, we went to a bookstore and an art store. He got a computer book and I got 2 journals. In the art store, I got these pens, plaster of Paris to mold figurines, and an earring-making kit. We made all 4 earrings in the kit. They came out really cool looking and they’re not hard at all to make. I’ll expand much more on it tomorrow.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1994 I just checked Andy’s messages for the first time since he’s been gone. He’s got 26. The bulk of them is from an ex-coworker. I think that’s who it is. A few calls from the ad he placed. One sounded promising, one a complete ditz, and the other a slut. The dirty old man type. Lots of hang-ups too, that are probably ad-related. I used to get that a lot when I placed ads back east.

I finally did get around to writing Alex a letter. Also to Bob, Tammy and my parents. I wrote them to give my wrist a break from all the typing I did.

Several months ago, Tom printed out pictures for me to draw and I did, so I turned it into stationery.

I’d also like to get that V-shaped keyboard they make. It really should decrease wrist strain. I added a few more things to the ‘to do’ and ‘to get’ lists.

I got a letter from Bob today. I found it ironic that he said he expects us to have a kid by November 26, 1995. Why? Cuz I had feelings about November, Tom said he thought it’d be the end of ‘95 or the beginning of ‘96 and that most people in his family are born in the winter or summer. On the other hand, that means getting pregnant around March. That’s awfully fast for a DES daughter, even if after the surgery he came like there was no tomorrow. Seeing is believing for me, though. The other day we were talking about not always getting something you wanted. Whether it’s out of your control or you’re waiting. Like when Tom said the reason I’m not pregnant is cuz we agreed to wait. When he said that, that deepened my belief that he could’ve cum since day one, but is waiting for when we are ready. With all that’s gone on, though, plus my surgery, I’m very glad we waited. However, if he doesn’t cum in time after surgery, I’m going to think two things: That God doesn’t want me to have a kid and that there’s something wrong with him, but his ego or manhood won’t allow him to say so and go talk to a doctor about it. No, I don’t think I’d think he didn’t want a kid unless he told me so and he’s told me he does want one.

We’ve had good talks and he gives good advice. He brought up a very good point about why we don’t have tapes of me singing. Besides blocks, I’ve got in my head due to those bullshit bands back east and Scott, he said I worry too much about the end of things which prevents or makes it hard for me to start things. Yeah, it’s true that I’d sit there and ask myself what I’d do with the money, for example, whether I made a little or millions.

I’ve often told myself to bring back the music. Sing more, play the guitar and keyboards, but then I ask myself, “What for?” The answer should’ve been, “Cuz it’s what I like to do.” I wish I had the same attitude about it as I do with writing these journals and drawing. I do it cuz I like it. I never think of the end, and doing these things serves no purpose.

Tom sure was also right when he mentioned how I never thought drawing on paper would lead to me drawing on walls. Very true. I mentioned this to Tammy and my parents, too.

Later…

I talked to Mom real quick yesterday who said she couldn’t really use the crayon can, it was childish, and if she found a child she’d give it to them. Most people would’ve been like, fine! Fuck you then. But I appreciate her honesty and this way I know never to send anything like it again. Just like when they used to send me grandma clothes. I’d send them back, rather than let them sit here and go to waste. I’m not shocked as she is “too grown up,” but a part of me is shocked as she has her own set of Mickey Mouse T-shirts, stuffed animals, etc. I believe you’re never too old for anything. I forgot to say this in my letter to my parents, but I think it’d be best if we told each other what we want for birthdays and holidays.

I haven’t sent Scott anything for about a year, and I know he’s long since moved, so his father’s getting two Bob letters. I know Scott will hear all about it. I wrote his dad’s address as the return address, too, with no postage and I’m having Andy send it. This way the mailman won’t see there’s no stamp on it, as he picks it up from here, and toss it back in the mail slot. I doubt he’d do that even if he did notice that there wasn’t any postage, but this way I don’t have to worry.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 1994 I was trying to decide if I should make a period chart for 1995 on the computer or do one myself. Well, I came up with an even better idea. Journals 36 to 40 and 52 and letter books have every other page blank for the most part cuz I glued in pages and wrote stuff not back to back. In 52, 100% of it has every other page blank. I’ll use a page for each year. I just wrote up the 1995 period chart. It’s a bit sloppy, but it’ll work. I may or may not use all blank pages in all books for letters. That’d take forever to fill up. There could be a few hundred of those. Tonight I typed up the Shauna doc and began 25.

I hope Andy doesn’t kill me for forgetting to record his shows in SP today. At least they did get taped, but hopefully these two soaps will be the most boring of all.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 1994 I just finished typing 26.

Tom and I had a steak for our Turkey Day dinner.

My parents called and we chatted about our visit with Goldie and Al.

Ma asked me about the picture she sent since I didn’t write about it. I told her that it wasn’t until right after I finished their letter that I got the message behind it and read it. Tom and I were right. Even though the girl in the picture had brown hair that was only medium length, she reminded them of me. She said they got it in a gallery.

They said they went over to Marty & Ruth’s for dinner. Better them than me. Or us.

She said to tell Tom to look for a brown envelope. I asked Dad to tell me what it is and that I wouldn’t tell (I really wouldn’t), but he wouldn’t tell.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1994 Dinner tonight with Goldie and Al was great. Tom was impressed with them and he enjoyed himself, too. Goldie and Al looked very happy. They didn’t look as big as I thought they might, and I don’t remember them being so short.

I could tell they were judging me for who I was today. Not in the past. I told Tom they were always good to me, never gossiped or bad-mouthed people.

Dinner was their treat and pretty good. I got eggplant and Tom got lasagna.

They told me more about their retirement plans. They had once stayed on the beachfront where my folks used to live for $1,800 a month! I guess my folks were paying $800 a month. Wow! They got a 3-month lease on an apartment in Las Vegas.

They showed me pictures of Aaron and Noah, their wives, and their kids. Of course, I’d never say this to them, but they didn’t look too great. Their wives were so ugly and looked like typical moms. I brought our wedding pictures, some of me at the two apartment complexes I lived at here, and those pictures of Tammy and Noah going to Tammy’s prom.

If anything shocked them, it was how happy I’ve become and that I’m not fat anymore.

I never could remember how they met, so they told me that they lived next to my folks in Springfield on Willowbrook Dr. They left Springfield in 1966 and they hate Springfield too, and understand how shitty it is there.

Goldie said Ma was always a night person. Really? I don’t remember that. I know she’d be up till 11 PM - 1 AM, usually, and sometimes slept till noon on weekends. She was never up, though, that I knew of at 2:00 - 4:00 AM.

We were laughing at how Goldie was going to say to Ma, “Ha-ha. I got to meet your son-in-law first!”

They are quite happy for me about my ear surgery and are going to call me a few days after the surgery to see how it went.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1994 Just a very quick rundown on things cuz I’m about ready for bed. I made a mistake in saying Andy arrived in CT at 7:00 our time. He arrived at 7:00 their time.

Al called. They said it’ll be easier if we could meet them at the Olive Garden restaurant in Sun City. It’s about a 45-minute drive, but it’s worth it. We’ll be there at 6:30. Al said he was going to bring some pictures and so am I. Our wedding pictures, pictures of me at the VV & CC, and something else I’m sure they least expect. Their son Noah went to Tam’s prom with her and I have pictures of this. They were outside of the house we had on Berkeley Dr. in Longmeadow. I was in one of the shots all bandaged up after ear surgery. They oughta get a kick out of it, but I’ll expand more on that and other stuff tomorrow.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1994 Andy came over, but not for long as he has to get up at 8 AM. His plane leaves at 10 AM and he'll arrive in Hartford at 7 PM. His layover in Washington D.C. is an hour, so it'll be a 9-hour ordeal for him. Yuck! I sure as hell don't envy him. I called Prodigy while he was here and it finally does look like it's cooling way down there. It may even snow. The satellite showed flurries into New York and Vermont. The humidity's 92%. No thanks. I don't miss that shit.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1994 After I got up today, we went over to Mary’s to check out that vanity table and mirror. I like it but don’t know when it’ll be brought here. It has 6 small drawers and a stool. It’s white with speckles and is rather old, but not totally dumpy. It’ll be great for makeup, and I do intend to fix it up.

We changed Piggy’s cage today.

I’ve also got about 6-7 Nintendo games for Tammy and others that I’ll mail with the crayon cans I made. We’ll still put together a disk of games at some point.

Later…

Andy will be here anytime between 9 PM - 1 AM. He leaves tomorrow and he’ll be back on the 29th. He’s going to give me tapes to tape his soaps on. I also have things to show him, like new wall art and clothes. I’ll give him the 16 or so no-postage-necessary envelopes I have, too. I was going to mail him his Chanukah card, but I may as well give it to him tonight.

I got a letter from Bob today.

We went to Christown Mall earlier where I got two new lotion fragrances at Potions & Lotions. I got China Musk and April Rain. I also got some Chinese food.

Now, you’ll never believe who called me about coming to see us Wednesday. Goldie and Al! I’m so psyched! Apparently, they’re out visiting Al’s sister in Sun City. They’re also taking a couple of months as a vacation. They stopped to see someone in Las Cruces, New Mexico, have an apartment in Vegas, but still has a house in Milford, MA.

She said she was thrilled to “hear” about my ear, can’t wait to hug me, meet Tom, and talk with us. She’ll be calling at 5:30 Wednesday and I’m really looking forward to seeing them. So is Tom.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1994 I’m not quite ready to go to bed yet, so I just thought I’d write up on some of the things we’ve got planned during his days off. We’re going to go over to his sister Mary’s house to check out a vanity table she has sometime soon. We’re going to change Piggy’s cage. We’re going to put together that disk of games to send to Tammy and go to the post office to mail off everyone’s presents.

At some point, maybe Monday, Andy will be stopping over. I have some things to show him and he’s got to give me tapes so I can tape his soaps.

Tom’s going to go food shopping very early in the morning before I get up.

The other day I got a booklet in the mail with perfume samples. You know, the kind you peel open and rub onto yourself. Instead of rubbing it on me, to spare my allergies, I rubbed it on a few book covers. The back of this one, the next one, and a few old ones.

In about a month or a month and a half, it’ll be time to go journal shopping once again. Tom said he always figured that someday he’d read my journals, that it was bound to happen. No way! What an embarrassing thought. After I’m dead is one thing, but not while I’m alive.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1994 I finished typing up computer notes and tips from Tom’s computer magazines. I use different names for different documents. I’ve already used Norah, Kate, Farrah and Jaclyn. Next, I’ll use Linda, Gloria, and other people I like, then maybe names in our families. You can only use up to 8 characters, so Nickolena will have to be Nicolena. Here are some of the names I’ll use for future documents. Gloria, Linda, Maria, Lamaris, Shauna, Saundra, Lisa, Becky, Sarah, Tammy, Bill, Larry, Arthur, Dureen, Nicolena, Ray, Evie, Marjorie, David and Steven.

Later…

In a little while I’m going to go watch some shows I taped. I asked Tom to circle the page number in the index of magazines he wants to be typed and he did so in about 8 magazines. I have my work cut out for me, but I don’t mind and it’s fun. There’s going to be a total of 25 files and so far, I’ve already done 2. He picked out 5 more names, Mary, Wendy, Diane, Eileen and Lolita. I did Gloria and Bill and now I’m working on Marjorie. Bill, Marjorie and Saundra were all 1 page, but all the others are 2 to 3 and there’ll be an occasional 4.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 1994 I got my parents' package today. It was a huge one. Ma wrapped my birthday presents in flowered paper, my Chanukah presents in Chanukah paper and Tom’s Christmas presents in Christmas paper.

It was funny to see we sent each other the same Chanukah cards. I mailed out theirs and Tammy’s today.

Tom got a Phoenix Sun cap. He’s got a matching sweatshirt from his parents to go with it. Soap, deodorant, and cologne for Tom. He also got this really cool thing that’s in the shape of a ball, filled with liquid with a boat in it and a clock. We both got matching blue mugs, but of course, he doesn’t drink coffee or tea, but he sometimes drinks hot chocolate. There was a cookbook, chocolate candies, orange jellybeans, 2 rose candles, and a menorah with candles to go with it. A picture of a girl that looks great hung over the girl I drew in my wall mural and 2 calendar booklets for 1995. A thing you hang in the kitchen that’s hard to describe. It looks like beans and corn and stuff like that. A window-clinger, not a sticker, of a menorah, and dreidels. I stuck those in the garage door where only we can see them. There are too many hate groups out there. Three small magnetic picture frames. All my niece’s pictures were too big, so Gloria’s living in them. Two palm-sized balls with bells in them. They’re really pretty too, with gold and other colors with panda bears. Three skirts that fit perfectly. They’re just below the knee, but sexy and sophisticated. They’re all solid colors of peach, white and black. Another one of those skort outfits that’s flowered. The thing’s humongous on me, so I’ll have to shrink it and wear a tank top under it. A 50-inch windsock of a cow that even has a little cowbell on it that I put on the end of the clothesline. On the other end of the clothesline, I put the bird feeder with the bunny in it. A wind chime of a cat and 3 hearts. I put that on the patio.

It’s nice to be able to have a big, private yard to use these things.

Lastly, a drawing I did that was put on a plate when I was maybe in the 1st grade. Gross! Tom says it’s a wonderful keepsake. Ma said that, too. She enclosed a note saying it was a wonderful keepsake she enjoyed for years, but now it’s for me.

I just typed them a letter and that’s all for now. Now, I’m going to go watch TV and Andy will probably call at some point.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 1994 Soon, I’ll be going to bed. I just thought I’d quickly update on stuff first. Today I finished typing 23. I took Norah’s story and combined it with my journals, so counting that, I have 36 typed up that total 356 pages.

Yesterday when we screwed around, we didn’t use a rubber. Tom feels that at some point in ‘95 I’ll be pregnant. Sounds nice, despite my fears and doubts about it, and I hope that we’re both about to make one if you know what I mean.

I called Dad today and he asked how Tom and Andy are and said they don’t sell live animals. They’re flags with all kinds of animals on them as well as states and other countries.

Just as we were hanging up, Ma came in with groceries and she asked what their Chanukah present was. I said I’ll tell her if she tells me what’s in the package that oughta arrive tomorrow. She wouldn’t tell, so I wouldn’t tell.

Tom asked me questions earlier about Chanukah and his mom asked which one we celebrate. None with no kids. That’s something you live up more when there are kids. If we have a kid, we’ll acknowledge both.

His parents have a birthday tradition where they send each kid and their kid’s spouse a check for how old they are. Last June 28th Tom got a check for $37. He said she asked if I’d be offended if she wrote the check out to me for $25, even though I’m turning 22. She was shocked to see that I’m turning 29.

Wow. Even though I’ve been keeping journals for 7 years, when I turn 29, that’s 9 different ages I wrote during. During 21-29, but never much during 21 since I started writing at the end of October.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1994 Tom’s home now and he’s talking to his sister Mary who had a computer question.

I never heard from Andy last night, so who knows what he’s up to?

I did a lot of journal typing today and I’m in the hospital now with only 13 days to go till I arrive in Phoenix!

Speaking of hospitals, it’s been one year since my last attack! After that 2½-year reign of terror I went through back east till I got here, I’ve had only about 5 bad attacks in the 2½ years I’ve been here.

I still have some crayons left over, so I may use them to make another picture frame unless I think of something else.

Only 19 more days left till surgery. The time oughta fly by now.

Well, Kim has gone back home today. I assume she’s already there. If not, she’s on her way.

I still haven’t mailed Bob’s letter out yet, but I’ll be sure to say so when I do.

Of course, I haven’t heard from Mark, and I know he could be busy, it’s only been since last Friday or Saturday since he got my letter, but I don’t know. Maybe he will surprise me like Minnie did. When I do send Bob his nasty letter and he tells Minnie and maybe others about it, I’m sure she’ll call all about it.

No package yet from my parents. Maybe tomorrow.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1994 I still have lots to tell, so now’s as good a time as any. Remember the arts & crafts book Andy sent me under a bogus name? Well, I’m so very glad he sent it. Using an empty coffee can that is rectangular, I glued on a poster board around its sides. Then, I took 41 regular-size crayons and glued them around their sides. It was a perfect fit and it looks soooo cool. I glued on all the crayons so you could see the names of their colors.

I made 2 for us. One’s in my room and one’s out back by the computer. Then, I made 6 more for these people: Andy, my parents, Tammy & Bill, Lisa, Becky and Sarah. I’ll send them out as Chanukah presents, but Andy’s will be for his b-day. I also made a little crayon frame, by gluing crayons on a poster board, with Piggle’s picture in the center of it. He’s been here a year today.

I finally got new mascara and this stuff’s the best ever.

Got a letter from Bob today and when I return, I’ve got some wild stuff to write about him.

I probably won’t return any letters I get from Alex or Minnie, even though Tom said, “I hope you wrote her back,” after I got Minnie’s first letter. In fact, I’m not even going to tell him about the letter I’ll be sending Bob for a couple of reasons. Cuz I don’t want him to feel guilty or think something’s wrong with me that’s making me do this. This is my decision and my decision alone.

Assuming Mark’s like most people, he’ll never do what I politely asked him to do. Either way, I’m doing what I’ve been wanting to do for years, with Tom and Andy as an exception. That is to dump people. Believe it or not, this is easier for me to do now that I’ve got a life and my shit together. Cuz now I’m not as lonely and as desperate and can think and choose my words more rationally.

I copied the letter I typed up into 7. I don’t know when I’ll send it, as I kind of want to wait till I get enough letters to finish off the remaining 42 pages or so.

Anyway, it’s pretty nasty and cruel and I’m sure Kim and others will get an earful with several letters. I’m sure it’ll make him feel pretty miserable in the head and physically, but tough shit. The short letter basically says I found out he was convicted twice before for sex crimes, he can drop dead, his problems are all his fault, and that if he ever comes here I’ll kick his ass right back there.

Tom and his parents are at the racetrack now. I hope he makes some money.

Andy may be over later on.

Later…

Tom’s home now but he didn’t win any money.

Hurricane Gordon hit Florida, but Mom and Dad are OK.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1994 I have lots and lots of updating to do. I don’t remember if I mentioned this, although I must’ve. When we got our new camcorder, we also got some free gifts. There were 3 little puzzles, but they were all white, so you could write your own messages, break them up and send them to people to put together. They were a little bigger than postcards and they give you envelopes to go with them.

I sent one to Andy, one to my parents and one to Tammy and everyone there.

Andy returned the $20 he borrowed last night by slipping it in the mail slot.

I finished the wall mural in the living room. I drew a bird on a cactus, two palm trees with a hammock strung from both trees and a little girl sitting on it reading a book. Tom says the little girl looks like Barbara Streisand, but I don’t see it.

Last Saturday when we screwed around, we used a rubber for the sake of making sure nothing gets in the way of my surgery. I thought with that peace of mind, with or without surgery, he’d cum, but he didn’t. He said after the surgery we won’t use rubbers. I don’t think we’ll ever have to worry. If we ever do try to have a kid we’ll have to hope that his pre-cum is enough to get the job done. I also still believe in meant to be/not meant to be, so we’ll see.

I haven’t spoken to Kim since she left that message the other day and if she’s tried calling when no one was around to answer, I don’t know.

I got a letter from Bob yesterday and still don’t know when and if I’ll be dumping him. I’ll give it a little more time and see if I hear from Mark. I doubt I will, though, as most people don’t do favors for those they didn’t really know for too long and weren’t great friends with.

Today I got a letter and a birthday card from Alex. I threw the card out right in front of Tom. Why not dump him too? What’s the point? I do like to get letters, though, but we’ll see.

I still have a lot to write about, but I’m taking a break now.

Later…

Tammy left a message and I called her back. They admitted Bill into Bakus Hospital in Norwich. They say he may either have pneumonia or both that and cancer. She’ll keep me posted.

Today we went to play miniature golf. It was a lot of fun.

I’ve done a lot of shopping, too. I got two of the pens I’m writing with, these stickers that came in a package of several things, all in the style of ballerina bunnies. I got a pink glitter ruler with shapes for tracing. Three erasers in the shape of musical notes. One purple, pink and green. A notepad with the bunny sticker like on the next page on its cover. Identical stationery (8 sheets) and 4 envelopes in yellow, purple, pink and blue.

I got reinforcing rings for papers that go in binders. You stick them around the punched-out holes of papers that go in 3-ring binders to make them stronger. I got through to almost the end of journal 2 with them, then stuck the centers of the holes on the back of those envelopes for decoration. They’re really cool looking, with different colors that glitter.

I got thigh cream that you put on before you go to bed for $14. It’s supposed to reduce craters.

I got Chanukah cards for my parents, Tammy and her family, and Andy.

Today we filmed Piggles with the camcorder, then ran it through the video kit, as we do with Norah’s and printed out a few pictures. One’s in the back of this book on the very last page. We had a certain reason for it when we printed Piggle’s picture out, but I’ll explain it later.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1994 I got up at 2 AM and surprisingly there was a message from Kim that she left at 6:00 last night. To make things easier, I was kind of hoping she wouldn’t call. She said she’ll try calling back. I don’t mind talking to her on the phone, but I don’t want to see her.

Anyway, Tom awoke in a great mood a couple of hours ago. He just left for work for an hour and will be going back in for an hour this afternoon. In the meantime, they’re still going to pay him for a half day’s work at time and a half.

Tomorrow he may be in for most of the day.

Later…

I was starving so I made a TV dinner.

My waist is down to 24.5” so that’s good.

Right now I’m going to go work on the computer.

Later…

I just began an outline of a palm tree. On the living room wall where there are just the small table and coat rack, I want to do a huge wall mural of palm trees. I went outside and studied the palm trees out there to try to get it as realistic as possible. I’m going to wait until Tom gets back. With him being from here, he can give me the best advice and opinions.

God’s going to pay me back real good, no doubt, haha. This is because I woke up Tammy and my parents. I forgot there’s no school today and my parents don’t usually get up till 8:30 - 9:00.

Dad said that today he’s sending out a Chanukah package by UPS and asked when Tom’s birthday was.

Now I think I’ll go get something else to eat.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1994 I got about 20 of the above labels from some charity thing in the mail, so I use them as date separators. I wish they were the peel-and-stick kind, though.

Quite a bit has gone on over the last couple of days. Tom and I have had several talks. Once again the visit with Kim is off and as much as Tom always says, “You make your own choices. I’m not your daddy,” it’s something I chose to do for two reasons. One, cuz I believe in fairness and I know Tom wouldn’t do anything to make me feel uncomfortable. Two, cuz why not? It was no big deal for her to leave me all alone cooped up in that apartment in Deerfield all the time. I also don’t feel like I’m losing anything. Just her letters here and there. If it were Andy, my parents, Larry or Tammy, he’d have no problem and I know that for sure. He just never got over her waking him up when she was last here, even though he understands it wasn’t deliberate. Some people never get over or forget things. I’ll never get over or forget lots of shit either.

This morning we were in great moods, talking about all kinds of things; he thinks she’s coming today. I never did mention the message I left on her machine yesterday (her plane should be landing right now) saying it was time I level with her about why we both had a problem with her coming here and that all I could deal with is letters and phone calls. I also told her that if she didn’t want to remain friends anymore through the mail or by the phone, I’d understand and that I won’t call or write her unless she does.

As for Bob’s letters that I was going to give her, I guess they’re all going in no-postage-necessary envelopes for Andy to mail out. That is after I “delete” any traceable names.

I also sent a letter to Mark (Kim’s ex) asking if he can let me know if Bob’s been in jail before for the same thing he’s in for now. Tom mentioned that possibility, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see if I can come up with anything. For a while, I’ll be his pen pal, although his letters have slowed down. I’ll definitely give him the ax if I do hear any negative news from Mark, but I also might cuz he’s getting so boring. He’s just old news with the same old shit. All I really ever want for a friend is Andy.

Andy came and borrowed $20 one day when I was asleep and is so much happier at this new place and with being able to sleep late.

Later…

Tom had been telling me this last month that he was going to get me a present for me at work. Something someone was selling, I guess. I got it yesterday. They’re 8 folding postcards with flower stickers to seal them. The part you write on is all white and about the length of this page. 4 of the backs were green and white stripes and the other 4 were peach and white. I sent the peach ones to Andy, Lisa, Becky, and Sarah. I sent the green ones to Tammy, Bill, Mom & Dad, Bob, and Tom.

He also brought home a box of peanut butter cups and a box of mints that he got from Wendy’s daughter.

In other news, I work on continuous typing stuff for Tom. Stuff from magazines.

I’ve begun typing 23, the last New England journal. This one won’t be done as fast as 20-22 whereas it’s bigger and there are fewer charts, lyrics, etc. Wait till I get to 76. That one will probably be the longest.

Yesterday, all by myself while Tom was working, I printed out some pictures with no problems at all. They look really nice and tomorrow I may do more and hope I have the same luck as yesterday.

The exercising I’ve been doing very regularly has been showing and I’ve been weighing 99 pounds. I hope it lasts.

The back room looks better than it ever has. It’s really neat and organized.

I may or may not have mentioned that my folks sent us a brochure of their flea market. I didn’t realize it was such a mob scene. Also, they sold fish, birds and animals, as their personal business card said.

I’m glad Kim hasn’t called. She’s probably too pissed off to as she said she was going to call at noon before I left the message yesterday afternoon. It gets funnier, the more I think about it. There were so many times I wanted to give her what she gave me for abandoning me in Deerfield. The only nice thing I’ll remember is the financial help, the stuff she bought or gave me and her letters.

If I do ax Bob, and if I’m still writing to Minnie at that time, I’ll simply tell her the truth, but that she’s got to do what she’s gotta do.

What will I tell my family and Andy about Kim’s not coming? She just changed jobs and her mom’s sick. The truth is none of their business and I don’t want to discuss it over and over with so many people. Or to have them think that Tom made me do this. No one tells me what to do. It was my choice.

Alone or married, I’m more and more turned off by the idea of Bob coming out here once he’s released. He’s old news with the same old shit. My gut feeling tells me he may very well not live long enough to see freedom anyway.

Later…

I feel bad for Tom as he busted his ass doing the backyard and the patio cuz of Kim. It needed to be done, but he wouldn’t have had to do it all at once if we’d known I was going to call off her visit.

Anyway, I’m getting kind of tired so I’m going to go take my meds and lay down. I’ll be falling asleep real soon.

Cigna called. Gotta go for blood work and an EKG on December 1st between 8 AM - 4 PM.

I believe on the 24th we’re going to Dave and Evie’s for a Thanksgiving dinner.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1994 Not too much has gone on since I last wrote. We played around with the picture-printing program and just bummed around the place.

Andy left a message for Tom to borrow $20 if that was possible. He’s still in training and isn’t getting tips yet. As I was going to bed, he said he’d check the account and see if it was available.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 1994 I know I’ve been a bit sluggish with my writing lately, but I sure do have lots to tell. Amazingly enough, I’ve typed up journals 20, 21, and 22 in less than a week. Now I’ve only got one more east coast journal to do. That one will take a little longer cuz it’s bigger with fewer pages with letters, charts, lyrics, etc.

Here are the journal numbers I’ve typed up that total 300 pages. There are 34 altogether that I’ve typed: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 38, 39, 40, 41, 49, 51, 52, 53, 60, 62, 63, 77.

I typed up 61, which is a story. Here are the ones I will be typing up: 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 36, 37, 42, 43, 50, 55, 56, 58, 59, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69, 76, 78, 80, etc.

Here are the ones I won’t be typing up cuz they’re all letters or whatever: 23, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 54, 57, 65, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, and 75.

Later…

We all know I have a bad habit of doing things before I think about them, right? Well, last night I did something that I guess you could say was stupid. As Kim’s visit’s getting closer, I’ve been a little more anxious. As I’ve said before, though, Tom told me that I’m an adult, can and should make my own decisions, trusts my judgment, and that all married couples don’t always agree. This is very true, but instead, I called Kim and told her I couldn’t see her. After nearly 24 hours of thinking about it, I realized that disagreeing is one thing, and fighting about it is another. I believe we’re better than that now, neither of us wants to fight and we’ve gotten to know each other well enough to know we’d never set out to hurt one another. I’ll call her in a while and tell her how I took my anxiety out on her and am sorry for it and hope she can still see me.

Later…

I called and talked to Kim who understood that with her visit and the surgery, I panicked. She will be staying overnight at those people’s house, knows my schedule will be off and that I want to do only local stuff. She was on her way out and couldn’t talk too long, but said she saw Bob. She said he shaved his beard and mustache off and actually looked pretty good. Yes, she got the article from Minnie and couldn’t believe it, saying she felt like she was reading about a totally different person. When we see each other, she’ll fill me in more. On the 10th, she’ll be calling me from that house at about 11 AM.

Tom made some changes with the picture-printing program, so I think I’ll go see if I can whip up some fairly decent pictures.

Later…

Tom got up about an hour ago. I printed out some pictures and I intend to do more. Then we ate and played with Piggy.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1994 I just finished those 75 tips for Windows & DOS and am now printing them out.

Can you believe that two nights ago I typed up almost two journals? I decided to give it a try by typing up 20, one of the 4 NHA journals, telling myself I could stop if I needed or wanted to. I got through it OK and there were only 80 out of the 130 pages to type. I was so bored most of the time that I’d copy in charts, letters, and convos from tapes. Any stuff like that in any of my journals, I don’t bother typing. I had almost finished with 21, which had the same number of pages when I got all this garbage as I got a couple of times before. All these symbols and shit like that. Tom and I managed to save the bulk of it, but I had to retype some stuff. To get it out of the way before more trouble happened, I left out a few pages of trivial shit, like what I ate, what I was wearing, what shows I watched, etc. I can still swear that something doesn’t want me typing these journals. When I work on stuff for Tom, there’s never a problem. However, I have a mind of my own and am now working on 22.

Got a letter from Bob the other day and today we got an invitation to go to a housewarming party at Jackie’s. If I remember correctly, Jackie’s Tom’s aunt. I won’t be awake to go, and I don’t know if he’s going.

When I got up, I was sneezing pretty badly for a couple of hours. I even thought I had a cold. Andy’s over his cold and has had his third day of training at the new place. He’s happy so far.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 1994 We went to the fair Wednesday for two hours. It was lots of fun. A lot like the Big E. They even had that same yellow wavy slide. I got cotton candy and we both got ice cream. We went on the ski lift and the Ferris wheel.

For only $12 I got a lavender crepe skirt with a matching top. The top has white lace trim with a tiny purple satin ribbon in front, but it slides down really easily, and Tom says his mom won’t mind putting straps on it.

In a few months when the county fair comes, we’ll have to do the things we didn’t get to do this time around, like play games, go on the big yellow slide, go in the funhouse, and get me a caramel candy apple. I forgot to get one on my way out.

When we came home, we ordered a camcorder through Fingerhut that was over $1,000. I can’t wait, though, and it’ll arrive in about a week. Can’t wait to send videos of all kinds of things to my parents and Tammy and everyone. I’ll write more about it when we get it.

Got a letter from Minnie today. I wrote her back as well as Alex, Bob, and Kim. Yesterday I wrote to my parents, Tammy and Bill, and also stuck in a letter for my nieces. Did I mention that I typed a letter to Larry? Well, I did. He should get it Fri. or Sat.

Earlier I talked to Andy who’s got a cold and hasn’t started work yet due to it.

I printed out all 33 pages of 19 and now I’m going to go work on those Windows & DOS tips for Tom.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1994 Now I shall begin in journal 80, as 79 is all filled up with letters. Soon after I start 80, I’ll be listening to music, then crashing. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. I’m sure it’ll be lots of fun. Tomorrow, I may very well also finish typing up 19, then I’ll decide what to do from there. My movie should start recording soon.

Well, bye-bye for now, as I’m going to go start journal 80. After I finish 80, I’ll probably head to 81 as I really doubt I’ll be finishing that subindex as I mentioned before.

Later…

Wow! I can’t believe I’m already starting my 80th journal. This pen is going to die on me any time now and I really don’t have a whole lot to write about. I got all caught up in my previous book. Cuz we’re going to the fair tomorrow, I’m sure there’ll be lots to tell then.

I hope I get some mail tomorrow, too.

Anyway, I’m going to go and play me some tunes now, then make coffee and conk out. Tom will be waking up tomorrow at 10:30 unless I get up earlier.

Larry mentioned calling Tammy, but I forgot to ask her if he mentioned going to see her if possible since he will be working locally.

Did I remember to shut the computer off? Yeah, I’m sure I did, but I’ll double-check it when I get my lazy ass up and off this bed.

I still have to have Tom show me how to print envelopes, and maybe we can check out the possibilities of my editing on the computer. He said it’s not hard to do, but it’s very different than anything I’m used to.

Well, that’s all for now as I’m getting very tired and my hand’s killing me. I’ll write tomorrow evening.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 1994 I only copied 4 of the 12 songs on Gloria’s new CD. I also noticed an address for a fan club, so I requested information about it.

I just typed Larry and everyone else there a 2-page letter with all kinds of fonts.

Instead of going to the racetrack today, we’re going to go alone sometime, so I don’t have to be there for hours. I hope he wins money for the fair.

Andy got a job at a place called Caro’s if I spelled it right. He’ll be working the dinner hours, so we’ll no doubt see more of each other.

Later…

Tom didn’t win any money at the tracks today, but oh well. He took his parents there and they gave Tom a T-shirt, a buttonhole maker, and a really neat craft. It’s a crushed can with a face painted on it. It’s hard to describe, but it’s quite clever.

I spoke to Andy too, who’s psyched to start his new job.

After Tom came home, we ate, then fooled around. We also were both in the back room each working on a computer. He showed me how to change the colors of the Window’s title bar.

Can you believe I’ve only got about 40-something pages left of 19? After I finish typing 19, the next 4 will be my nightmare in the NHA. I’m deciding on whether or not I should skip them, or get them the hell over with. Tom said if he were me, he’d skip them. We’ll wait and see how I feel later.

No mail for me today. I haven’t been getting as much, but soon I’ll type letters to my parents, Kim and Bob. One last one for Kim till she gets here. I’ll have to call her to see if everything’s still set and where she’ll be staying. I’m not sure where she’ll be staying overnight.

Today I got some information from Tammy all about her computer. Yup, it is a piece of shit. Hopefully, we can send her games soon.

Later…

I just ate, watched a little TV, and left Andy a good luck message. I may not talk to him before he starts work at the new place.

Tom’s going to wake me up tomorrow at 10:30 and we probably won’t be back here till sometime late afternoon.

I’m glad I haven’t gotten around to typing anyone’s letters yet, as this way, I’ll have more to tell them.

For the fun of it, I’d really like to see a psychic and I hope they’re not too expensive. I also hope they’re better than the 900# psychics. They’re certainly quacks.

Let’s see… what kinds of questions shall I ask if I see one? Perhaps stuff like, will our marriage last forever? Will we have a kid? Will we have a successful business? Will we move and when? Will I be a singer and if so, how well-known will I be? Will I ever quit smoking forever?

Speaking of singing, I really got into it a while when Tom and I were in the back room.

[stardustinmyhands]

5/3/24

I now have to coat the ends of my hair in coconut oil. The pool is frying my hair. My face is also dry. Lotion and coconut oil routine daily.

I’m sore today, but able to function. Meds on board of course. Doing laundry right now.

Yesterday I wrote 12 pages in my journal. I guess I had a lot to say.

I’m washing laundry right now. I kinda wanna go swimming but I don’t have the energy for a shower afterwards. That is a big deterrent for me, showering takes a lot of spoons. I work this weekend too, so I have to make sure I have energy for that.

I’m having dry mouth pretty bad lately, I think it’s my new mouthwash. It has alcohol in it. I didn’t read the ingredients, my last one didn’t and didn’t do this to my mouth. So I’m drinking a lot of water, which with my lasix makes me pee even more. It’s only 9:50 am and I’ve peed 5 times already.

I see my pcp on Wednesday and get my ivig on Thursday. I have a list already for my pcp, I need referrals, med refills, on top of what she wants to do. I hope my A1C hasn’t jumped. I will have to go back on meds more than likely. I’ve been eating carbs cause my stomach can handle them with my stomach issues. I will also ask for Zofran, well more of it my gi doctor only gave me 4mg pills, when my normal dose is 8mg.

I still have to call the new hospital I will get my IVIG at and see how the new order is going. I might as well stay at the Phoenix location till I see my immunologist next month. I like those nurses anyway. I’m nervous to go to a new clinic, I have to learn a new hospital layout, new nurses. Hopefully it’s as comfortable as the Phoenix location. All that is nerve wracking to someone who doesn’t like change

Some days I wish I could have a normal life. A full time job in the career I trained in, making $40 an hour. With a kids. Of all the things I had to give up cause of my condition being a mom is the biggest one. My OBGYN told me I would be high risk right from the start. With my autoimmune condition, my autoimmune system may attack my baby. But they would do whatever they could to keep me and the baby safe. They also told I would be an automatic c section at 37 weeks. My psychiatrist told me he wouldn’t even want me to get pregnant with my mood stabilizer in my system, cause it can cause fetal abnormalities. And I may have to consider termination, even if it’s a wanted baby. I also take methotrexate every week, which can cause abortions. Which here in Az is now illegal, except in certain cases. I tried to get pregnant, but it never happened. I did get pregnant when I was 18, and had a miscarriage. I had a dream I gave birth to a son, I took a test that morning and I was pregnant. So I knew it was a boy. His name would have been Ezra. Ultimately I guess it works for the best I never became pregnant, even though I have wishes for it since I was a little girl.