#and also attacks my feet without provocation

[johaerys-writes]

Never mind i'm cuddling my cat lol. Life is good

Finally the weekend and there isn't enough time in the world for all the things I want to do

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Disgraced apple pie

��Can you go anywhere else?” Hero turns around to see the Villain in one of the booths of their favorite diner. “It’s my favorite diner to go to after getting my ass kicked by you and your friends,” they answer, trying to keep the conversation light. Hero recognizes Villain as one of Supervillain's closest allies. They know from multiple meetings that they are one of, if not the most dangerous villain in the city. After Supervillain, of course. They also know Villain won't attack without any provocation unlike Other Villain.

“They’re not my friends,” Villain sighs, stabbing their pie with a fork. "Colleagues at best.” Hero slides into the seat in front of Villain. “Colleagues then. Why aren’t you celebrating your victory?” “Why would I celebrate something when it’s a daily occurrence?” Villain says, looking at them with a deadly glare.

“Ouch, no need to rub it in like that,” They react almost theatrically. Hero takes a sip from their strawberry milkshake as they look at Villain’s diner. A ripped apart apple pie and a black coffee. Villain keeps stabbing the perfectly crafted pie but doesn't take a single bite. “Not hungry?” Hero asks with their sweetest voice, trying not to sound hostile. It's still a dangerous, superpowered villain in front of them.

“Why do you care?” Villain says while continuing to massacre the pie. “I don't. I was just wondering,” Hero smiles. They felt the familiar knot in their stomach known as anxiety settle. Did that anger them? Did they go too far?

“You're not eating much either,” Villain points at their milkshake. “It's more than enough.” they answer, feeling their hungry stomach growl. Their paychecks have been less and less ever since the amount of villain attacks increased. The Agency wants them to pay for the property damage, like they can do anything about it. Well, it was either their salary or their dorm provided by the Agency. They would much rather have a roof over their head than a full stomach.

“I can hear your stomach,” The voice brings them back to reality. “Oh, it's fine. Don't worry,” they reply, taking another sip from the milkshake. “Want mine?” Villain asks as they push forward the murdered pie. “No, thanks,” Hero says as they push the pie back. It still looks good, even in its destroyed state. “I have food at home.”

“You're lying. I don't like liars,” Villain says with the hint of a threat in their voice. They pull the plate back towards them and stand up. “ Hey, where are you goi-” “Shut up, I am getting you some food” Villain interrupts.

Hero watches as the tall figure walks over to the counter. Their shadow attached innocently at their feet. They make some small talk with the lady behind the counter while waiting for the pie. While they are paying, their shadow makes an unnatural twitch. A twitch that Hero knows is just innocent against what it looks like when unleashed.

Villain turns around and sits back down, accompanied by a cherry pie. They push it towards Hero, alongside a fork. “Eat up,” they say, picking up their own fork. “I can't pay you back,” Hero says, placing the fork back on the table. “No need. Consider it an apology for the property damage.” They answer nonchalantly.

“How do you know about that?” Hero asks. The Agency is very secretive about their financial decisions. There is no way they heard it somewhere. “I have my sources,” Villain smiles. It's not a threatening or condescending smile as they would expect. It's rather playfull, like they are challenging them. “I will find out how you know,” Hero says, trying to sound confident. “I am sure you will,” Villain challenges them, a hint of sarcasm in their voice. As Hero opens their mouth to respond, they see a message appear on Villain’s phone. Villain quickly takes it and reads it.

“Looks like I am going to have to leave you alone with your pie,” Villain says, grabbing their jacket. “See you next time, Hero.” Before Hero could answer, the villain was out the door into the night. They looked back at the pies and pulls the disgraced apple pie towards them. More for them, they guess.

~

Villain sighs as they turn into an alley. They walk straight to the supervillain's lair, not so far from the city center. The text from Supervillain makes their stomach turn.

‘Caught one of their little sidekicks. Wanna play?”

They better be quick before Supervillain loses their patience and takes it out on the poor thing.

Next part

I'm thinking about making this a series, but i am not sure yet. It's currently 3 am so it's probably full of mistakes (sorry, if you find any) but i just wanted to finish this.

[mah-t-wordblog]

Demon Slayers HEADCANONS

~ Kamaboko Squad ~

This headcanon is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them 💛💛

Tanjiro Kamado ☀️💦☀️💦☀️💦☀️💦☀️💦

80% ler / 20% lee

Ler:

- Tanjiro often tickles people to make them happy and feel better, like that's obvious

- He loves to emphasize how beautiful someone's smile is

- Never tickle too hard because he don't have enough thought for it and feel sorry for everyone

- Love to provoke others so that they blush

- His big brother instinct makes him ruthless when he has to chase someone or arrest them

- Favorites lees: Nezuko, Kanao, Zenitsu and Inosuke obviously (I feel like he would tickle Tokito too because he deserves to smile)

- “What a beautiful smile~ I didn’t know you could do it”

Lee:

- Tanjiro feels considerable ticklishness. Sensitive 80/100

- And he likes to feel ticklish skksksks

- Sometimes he asks Nezuko to tickle him a little just to make him feel better

- Several people know that he likes to be tickled and like to tickle him

- Normally during his missions

- Weakest points: sides

- Teasing that catches him: “imagine if an oni discovered that you were so ticklish? You would die”

Nezuko Kamado 🌸🌺🌸🌺🌸🌺 🌸🌺🌸

20% ler / 80% lee

Ler:

- Nezuko loves to tickle others when she thinks they are annoying her brother, or when they are sad

- Her claws hurt a little, but she learned to please her brother without hurting him

- When she was human, she loved tickling her little brothers to punish them or just to please them

- His claws have a great effect on Tanjiro as the gentle tickles are the worst for him

- Your favorite lee is just Tanjiro

- Don't tease, she kind of doesn't talk lol

Lee:

- Nezuko is just a cute little baby, 80/100

- She loves when her brother tickles her and she laughs and squirms on the floor

- Another person who finds her super cute when she's tickled is Mitsuri, the hashira loves to make her laugh and see her smile

- Zenitsu also attacks her and she obviously loves it, but he's a bit exaggerated lol

- Weakest points: belly and neck

- Teasing that gets her: “you’re the cutest, Nezuko”

Zenitsu Agatsuma ⚡️😭⚡️😭⚡️😭 ⚡️😭

50% ler / 50% lee

Ler:

- Somehow good at tickling

- When I look at his face I think it's clear that he likes to come up behind people and attack them

- He's not that strong, but he uses everything he has to get on top of someone and leaves them immobilized

- Often attacks others to punish them, especially when he finds Tanjiro or Inosuke annoying

- Doesn't know how to provoke lsksksksks

- Favorite Lees: Tanjiro, Inosuke and Nezuko-chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan

- “I would say I got you”

Lee:

- It is very sensitive, 90/100

- He doesn't love being tickled, even though he doesn't hate it

- But he just can't handle teasing, they make him blush a lot

- I like the idea of ​​imagining Zenitsu being super broken by Tanjiro and Inosuke

- It's obvious that he squeals during the tickling

- Weakest points: feet and knees and ears, right?

- Teasing that gets him: “Oh my God, Zenitsu, you look like a tomato”

Inosuke Hashibira 🐗💥🐗💥🐗💥 🐗💥

70% ler / 30% lee

Ler:

- man, it's pretty obvious that Inosuke RUNS AROUND AND JUMPS ON SOMEONE AND MAKES THEM DIE, right?

- Inosuke is ruthless, he will not leave his prey alive

- Tanjiro or Zenitsu have to jump on top of him so he can release his Lee

- He's going to scream and attack you because you said he feels ticklish, and he doesn't, right?

- He will provoke you, in fact his provocations are more insults saying that you are weak

- Favorite Lees: Gompajiro and Monitsu

- “You are my prey”

Lee:

- It's also clear that Inosuke is ticklish and won't admit it

- He gets really angry when you say that to him

- he doesn't feel that ticklish, but it's enough to be broken 70/100

- He hates this so much, looking weak

- Like, when I look at his face I can see someone being cruelly tortured but resisting a lot just to prove that he’s a man

- Weak points: armpits and sides

- Teases that catch’s him: “was the wild animal that sensitive?”

Kanao Tsuyuri 🪙🦋🪙🦋🪙🦋🪙🦋🪙🦋

30% ler / 70% lee

Ler:

- Kanao doesn't usually tickle anyone

- But when she started having a relationship with Tanjiro, she developed the courage to surprise her boyfriend hehe

- Only when she started to have more courage was she able to tickle Aoi when she needed to

– She stays completely silent while tickling someone

- Only sometimes laugh with the person

- Favorite Lees: Tanjiro and Aoi

Lee:

- Kanao is very sensitive 85/100

- But people never used to tickle her

- Apart from Kanae, who liked to make her laugh in times of tension

- One of the first things Tanjiro discovered was that she was very sensitive

- AND LOVED IT

- Running your fingers over her palms makes her shiver

- Her laugh is silent

- She blushes a lot, and hides her face when she laughs

- Tanjiro dies of love hehehehhehehe

- Let's remember that this really cute and beautiful couple exists guys

- Weak points: hands and sides

- Teasing that catches her: “where’s your laugh, Kanao?”

Genya Shinazugawa 🔫🦷🔫🦷🔫🦷🔫🦷

60% ler / 40% lee

Ler:

- Genya tickles people to punish them

- Especially when Muichiro is being annoying

- He looks angry and tough, but he feels like laughing with his lee

- Always uses the excuse that he is hungry and his victim is an oni so he can blow raspberries and use his mouth to tickle

- He loves to attack Muichiro because he thinks that he’s extremely cute

- Favorites lees: Muichiro and rarely Sanemi

- "I am hungry"

Lee:

- now my friends

- Very sensitive 95/100

- Sanemi LOVES TO MAKE THIS BOY'S LIFE HARD

- Muichiro also knows his weaknesses, but Sanemi

- Genya blushes a lot when attacked

- And goes crazy when provoked

- He won't deny that he’s ticklish, he’ll just answer “maybe”

- Always runs away at the right time

- He loves, of course he doesn't admit it, raspberries

- Weak points: scars and armpits

-Teases that get him: “Now I’m the one who’s hungry~”

Thanks for reading 💛💛

[javier-pena]

gunslinger

Pairing: Jack Daniels x m!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You’re not quite sure what you’re looking for but you find it in an unexpected place and in an unexpected man.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol | semi-public sex | hand job | implied age gap | reader is inexperienced | (allusions to) blow job | oral fixation (it’s me) | some light choking | praise kink | a hint of possessiveness

Notes: This was supposed to be a Kinktober 2022 fic I never got around to writing. But it hasn’t left my mind for more than a year, so I had to get it out there. Sometimes good things take time. I’m also running out of creative thank you-notes to leave for Dani @alexturner​ who read part of this fic while she was on holiday (!!!!). I will say that I could never write a fic like this if I didn’t have her as a writing partner because she always keeps pushing me to get over myself.

***

There are only men at the bar. Big ones, more than six feet tall, laughing loudly. Old ones, sitting in corners, taking swigs from beer bottles. Young ones, crowding around pool tables, daring each other to do things that become more and more ridiculous the drunker they get. Red-faced, cruel ones, who are just there to pick a fight, a knife never more than a quick flick of their wrists away.

You don’t belong with any of them. You quietly sit in a corner like you’re old, but your young age betrays you. Your gaze never lingers on the cruel ones – they’re like dogs, eye contact is seen as provocation. The young ones, who should be your crowd, are too crass, too loud. And you wish one of the big ones would notice you, if only to talk to you.

When the door opens and lets in some of that dreadful winter cold, your gaze wanders over to the people coming in, but it’s more of the same: two young men, cheerfully greeting their friends, bawling out insults as endearments. You shrink back into the shadows, hoping they won’t notice you.

It’s not that you don’t want to fit in. You tried, but it just didn’t work out for you. And now you’re alone, an easy target, should any of them notice you. It’s not the life you’ve imagined for yourself, but it’s easier than pretending to be someone you’re not.

Two of the young ones have started shoving each other, grabbing each other by the collars of their shirts, raising their fists. Their friends around them cheer them on with a chant that gets faster and faster, more and more slurred. You want to ignore them, but they take up so much space. One punches the other, sends him stumbling backwards. The one who just took the hit wipes blood from his mouth and chin, an ugly grin on his face, before he attacks, wraps his hands around his friend’s throat.

The bartender intervenes with a shout, shotgun resting against his hip. The friends break apart, their faces pale. The two who got into the fight have to leave, the rest are allowed to stay. You take another swig from your beer bottle.

“Hey, partner.”

You jump as a man lets himself fall into the empty stool at your table, and as he props one foot up against the wood, his spurs jingle as he does. You don’t reply, just watch him from the corner of your eye. A big felt cowboy hat is casting most of his face in shadow. He’s neither young nor old, he’s not particularly big, there are no cruel lines around his mouth. He’s an outsider, just like you.

Too late you nod at him.

“What is a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?” the man asks without looking at you.

Your face heats up as you fix your gaze to the table top in front of you. The young ones have started singing a particularly crude song that should be impossible to ignore, but  all you can hear is your own breathing.

“No need to look like a deer caught in the headlights,” the man says, slapping your shoulder amicably. Then he extends his hand to you. “I’m Jack.”

You shake it, introduce yourself.

“And here I was thinkin’ you ain’t got no idea how to talk,” Jack teases.

“I can talk, sir,” you reply with an unsure smile.

“Ain’t no need to call me sir,” Jack says with a laugh.

You wish your face wouldn’t feel so hot.

“You new in town?” Jack asks, then looks at you in surprise when you shake your head. “How come I’ve never seen you around then?”

“I don’t go out much, si-” You bite your tongue, but he catches the last word and raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t go out much,” you repeat.

You really don’t, because you’ve never seen Jack before and you think you’d remember if you had. You’d remember those brown eyes that fix you with an unrelenting gaze, that handsome face, that easy swagger with which Jack moves around. You’d remember what it feels like to have his attention on you, like everything around you just stops. The young men have been quiet for a long time now.

“What made you come out tonight?” Jack wants to know.

You shrug. “Nothing in particular. A hunch.”

He laughs, and suddenly all you want to do is make him laugh again. “Anything in particular you’re hopin’ to find?”

Your gut tightens. You shake your head.

Jack lowers his foot to the floor and leans forward, both elbows propped up on the table. “I was lookin’ for somethin’,” he confides in you. “And I think I might have found it.”

You don’t know what to make of that, so you stare at your drink.

“Not much of a talker,” Jack notes with a nod.

You can’t help but smile. You can’t help but feel emboldened by this cowboy’s attention on you. “Would you like me to be?”

“I prefer to do the talkin’,” Jack replies.

“So you’ve come here to talk?”

He smirks. “No.”

It’s just two small sounds but they hang in the air between you, laden with meaning. You don’t quite know what to make of them, if you’re understanding them correctly or if you’re just hoping for something he isn’t saying. You could ask, but that’s not something people like you do, not in a town like this anyway. He’s a mere stranger and yet he is so open with you. That has to count for something, right?

You tread carefully. “I’m also not here for the talkin’.”

“I know, pretty boy, or you wouldn’t be sittin’ here all by your lonesome.”

You glance at the young men still gathered around the pool tables, their faces hard with concentration, with aversion, with hate. One of them pulls his shirt over his head, exposing a soft belly and a hard chest. Your neck feels hot suddenly, this time from the adrenaline – another one is shoving the shirtless one hard in what appears to be another violent altercation.

Jack follows your gaze and huffs. “You don’t wanna be part of that crowd.”

“I don’t,” you agree.

Jack watches them for a while, curious, like a child at the zoo watching the lions, morbid fascination written all over his face. “I used to be just like ‘em, you know.” For the first time there is no hint of swagger in his voice. “Long time ago.”

You try to imagine him as a young man, cocksure, full of himself. You try to imagine him as someone unkind, violent. It doesn’t work. “I don’t believe you,” you say.

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Then he pushes himself out of his chair. “Don’t worry, I still ain’t one of the nice ones.”

He begins to walk away, half empty beer bottle left behind on the table. You panic, thinking you’ve done something wrong, wishing you’d kept your mouth shut. But he isn’t walking toward the exit, and when he glances back at you, briefly, eyes hidden beneath the brim of his hat, you shudder.

You stand up and follow him.

It’s not like you came here looking for something like this, for this kind of pleasure, but … you’d be a fool not to find out where this is going. Your heart picks up pace when you walk past those young men who are still busy growling at each other, shoving each other. One of them glances at you, a sneer on his face, but you draw back your shoulders and look straight ahead. They leave you alone.

The bathroom is brightly lit – white floors, white walls, everything is reflecting light. You squint, wait for your eyes to adjust, only to discover that the room is empty. Did you make a mistake? Were you so distracted by those men that you didn’t see Jack slip out the back door? Did you assume …

No, you can see his boots peeking out from under one of the stalls. Your throat is completely dry and your heart hammers so loudly you can feel it vibrate through your body. It’s not like you haven’t done this before, but there is something about Jack that makes you feel like you know nothing at all.

You exhale sharply, then walk toward the stall, your steps sounding surer than you feel. You pull open the door and there he is, leaning against the wall, hands in his jeans pockets, thumbs hooked into the belt loops, head lowered, hat obstructing his face. But when he hears the door open and sees you try to squeeze into the tight space, he raises his head, a cocksure smirk on his face.

“You had me guessin’ there for a moment, partner.”

Before you can come up with a witty reply, he grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pulls you toward him. The kiss is rough, hungry. His mustache is scraping your lips, your cheeks, it makes the skin on your neck prickle when Jack sucks a possessive mark into it, just above your collarbone. Jack tastes of beer, he tastes of cigarettes, he tastes of gunpowder and danger, and your knees buckle when he tips back his hat and grabs you by the back of your neck to kiss you even deeper. You put your hands on his chest to brace yourself, so he pushes you against the opposite wall of the stall with such force the door sways lightly in its hinges.

You suck in a deep breath as you see him standing there, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, still that damn, cocksure smile on his lips. He takes a step toward you, then another, spurs jingling, watching as the expectation on your face builds and builds. Was the bandana around his neck already this loose when you were sitting at the table outside? Was his shirt always this open, revealing some bright dusting on his chest? Did you not allow yourself to notice these things? Or are they new?

Jack leans against you with his whole weight, the bulge in his jeans pushing against your own, and you gasp. He groans, eyelids fluttering shut, and then he kisses you again, slower, but just as demanding. You allow yourself to let down your guard too, close your eyes as well, and get lost in the hungry licks of his tongue, in the way he forces you to give more and more with every brush of his lips. You’ve been kissed before but never like this. Never like they valued you as a person and not just for the things you could give them.

Jack pushes a hand between your bodies and cups you through your jeans. You push yourself into his hold, growling into the kiss, and he responds with a choked sound you can feel against your lips in his exhale. He lets go of you, but searches for your hand, grabs your wrist, and places your fingers against his belt buckle, the metal cool to the touch.

You open your eyes when he says, “I want you to touch me, handsome.”

Maybe you look stupid when you nod, your mouth hanging open, your eyes unfocused. But Jack rewards you with another kiss, then lets go of your wrist, allowing you to do this at your own pace.

Your fingers shake as you try to unbuckle Jack’s belt, but you manage somehow between him leaving another mark behind your ear and him whispering a filthy encouragement. He presses himself into your palm when you pull down the zipper (he’s not wearing underwear you realize with a jolt), and the feeling of the size of him makes your toes curl in anticipation. Before you can pull his cock out of his pants, he pushes himself off you and takes a few steps backwards, so he’s leaning against the opposite wall of the stall again. A bent finger bids you to follow.

It has to be one of the hardest things you’ve ever done, taking those few steps toward him at a steady pace, without your legs giving way and you falling to your knees in front of him. He waits for you patiently, even when you take a moment to glance down at the coarse, dark hair peeking out of his jeans. And when you look back up at him, that cocksure grin has turned dangerous.

“Like what you see?” he asks.

You almost chuckle at the cheesiness of that question … almost. Because he doesn’t wait for an answer – he pulls his cock out of his pants and gives it a slow stroke. You feel your mouth go dry at that sight, as you take in its full size for the first time. Your own cock strains against your pants as you watch Jack’s thumb glide over the tip, hear a small, relieved groan.

There’s another feeling now, higher up in your stomach, as everything narrows in on the sight in front of you, yet expands to everything around you and you realize where you are and what you’re doing. The man in front of you is older, clearly much more experienced, you’re in a public place where anyone could come in at any second. Those realizations make you freeze and you just stand there in front of Jack, heart racing in your chest, a stale taste on your tongue. You can’t do this.

Jack cups your cheek, runs his thumb over your bottom lip. “Hey,” he says. “Is this your first time?”

You shake your head and exhale a trembling breath.

“Do you want to touch me?” he asks next.

“I do,” you assure him, voice deep and unrecognizable, “but –”

“There ain’t no but,” Jack interrupts. “It’s either yes or no.”

His thumb rests against your bottom lip now, and he feels you take a steadying breath. You could walk away right now, forget all about this, forget him. He wouldn’t be angry, he wouldn’t insist, but you’d regret it for the rest of your life.

“Yes,” you answer, your voice so steady you could have fooled yourself.

Jack lets his hand drop between the two of you and closes his fingers around your wrist. “There ain’t no reason to be nervous, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your lips, “if you fuck like you kiss.”

He scrapes his teeth across your bottom lip, sucks it into his mouth, bites down hard enough you feel a sharp sensation, somewhere between pleasure and pain. It’s just a distraction, you realize, once your blood has stopped boiling – your hand is wrapped around his hard, heavy cock, and his hand is wrapped around yours.

“Start slow, angel,” he instructs, moving your hand up and then down along his length. “Yeah, like this.” His breath catches in his throat as he lets go of your hand and you keep it moving like he showed you.

You feel his breath against your lips and cheeks; short, shallow pants, a hitch when you brush your thumb across his tip. It’s hot in your little stall – you feel your shirt stick to your back, see small beads of sweat form on Jack’s brow. His eyes are open, roaming over your face – lips, eyes, top of your head, down to your lips again –, as if he can’t decide what to focus on, as if he’s not seeing you at all, is lost in your touch. You grip him harder and watch the tendons in his neck twitch, watch as he swallows hard. A flush creeps up from his chest to his throat, and when he thrusts into your hand, you feel your face heat up too.

You brace your free hand against the wall next to Jack’s head, lean in closer until your forehead rests against his. His lips find yours again, and he kisses you slowly this time, as if he’s trying to savor your taste. The only sound you can hear is your hand moving up and down his cock, and both of you panting into each other’s mouths, him trying to spur you on, you feeling like there is too much air in your lungs that you can’t get out.

Jack pulls back first. “Not bad,” he teases, “but I’m curious to find out what else you can do with that mouth of yours.”

You imagine yourself on your knees in front of him, his hand resting on the back of your neck, forcing you to take so much of him you’d gag, fucking your throat. You have to adjust your cock in your pants at that thought, the brief touch making you shudder. If Jack forced you down on the floor right now, you wouldn’t resist.

“Don’t slow down,” he pants.

Your focus shifts back to him and your hand that has slowed down, the light grip barely strong enough to make him feel anything. At first, you want to apologize, but then you notice a fire in his eyes, a challenge.

“C’mon, faster,” Jack urges you, thrusting into your grip so hard his tip brushes against your pants, leaving a small, wet stain.

You don’t do as you’re told.

His hand brushes yours, but then he changes his mind and his fingers find your throat, closing around it. His smirk has turned into a snarl.

“Faster,” he growls.

“Is that how you like it?” you ask, slightly increasing speed.

Jack squeezes your throat tightly, not enough to obstruct the airflow, hard enough to make you groan with pleasure. “Be a good boy for me and I might touch you,” he says, his eyes now hazy with lust.

Something in your brain short-circuits. No one has ever talked to you like that, you have never wanted anyone more. Your eyes fall shut when Jack leaves another mark on your neck, this time high up where everyone will be able to see it. Pride floods you and you give him what he wants in turn, your hand gliding easily now as you spread his pre-cum with your palm.

“Yeah,” Jack breathes against your neck. “Keep doing that.”

Your mouth is completely dry, your face is blazing with heat. You keep your eyes closed, afraid to look at him, afraid you’ll come untouched if you do. His praise washes over you like a hot shower after a long day, and you want to hear more.

“Impressive what a little persuasion can do,” Jack mumbles, and you feel him run his thumb over your bottom lip again.

It only takes you a split second to decide to open your mouth and suck the digit inside, swirling your tongue around the tip.

Jack’s breathing stops, then starts back up again, hard, labored, like he has been running for miles and miles.

“Fuck,” he groans, and you finally open your eyes.

His gaze is fixed on your lips, on his finger disappearing between them, and you know he’s thinking about his cock in its place, imagining what your mouth would look like stretched open like that. Then his eyes find yours and his grip on your throat tightens.

“Oh, you’re a dangerous man,” he says.

You pick up speed, the wet sounds of your hand against his cock more insistent now. With another wet sound, he pulls his thumb out from between your lips and closes his hand around your wrist.

“I want to savor it.” His voice is so deep and breathless now, it’s nothing but a quiet rumble.

You slow down.

“Tighten your grip,” he orders next.

You wrap your fingers around him harder, on the verge of cutting into the soft flesh.

A sigh of relief from Jack. “Good boy. You’re a quick study, I like that.”

“I like the way you talk to me.” Your throat burns – it feels like you haven’t spoken in days. You feel Jack twitch in your hand at hearing the gravel in your voice.

Jack smirks, and you’re only now realizing what a dangerous thing that smirk is. “You can grip me harder,” he says, and you comply immediately, even before Jack finishes talking. “Good,” he says. Then adds, “I knew you’d fuck like you kiss.”

The strain between your legs is almost too much to bear.

His hand around your neck tightens, he runs his finger over the coarse skin. “Some confidence would look good on you, pretty boy.”

“You chose me, didn’t you?” you ask, giving Jack’s cock a rough jerk.

His eyelids flutter shut. “Fuck!” You watch him swallow, see his Adam’s apple bob, see the tendons in his neck jump. “You have a pretty face,” he finally manages to say.

Your reply leaves your mouth on its own – you have no way to stop it, even if you wanted to. “Don’t you think it would look even prettier with your cum all over it?”

A hand at the back of your neck, Jack captures your lips in a searing kiss. It takes your breath away, the way it feels like he won’t stop until he has devoured you. Until you realize – he’s stifling his own moans, desperate growls and whimpers, as he spills over your hand and onto the bathroom floor. You don’t dare to stop, pump him until his hand finds your wrist once more and you feel him soften under your touch.

You’re both panting – Jack from his orgasm, you from pent-up desire. And yet you wish you could stay like this forever, pressed up against his hard body, caught in the space right after you are as close to someone as you could possibly be, when the world is at its softest and most fragile.

“Well done,” Jack finally says, and runs his fingers through your hair.

That small touch sets your entire body on fire. “Please,” you whimper, not caring that you sound desperate.

Jack raises his eyebrow at you in surprise. “I did promise to touch you, didn’t I?” He grabs you through the fabric of your jeans, presses his palm against the bulge there. You don’t mean for it to happen, but you can’t help yourself. You come with a shudder, soaking your underwear with your release. Shame heats up your face as you realize what is happening, how little it took for you to come undone while Jack was always in control of the situation, even with your hand wrapped around his cock.

But … he stares at you not with mocking but in quiet wonder, mouth hanging slightly open. “You’re a marvel, darlin’,” he says and kisses you.

You can’t really tell what happens next, but Jack is opening the door to your stall. It comes as a surprise to you, even though it shouldn’t, but it’s over – you both got what you wanted. Still, seeing him leave makes you feel more disappointed than you have any right to be.

Jack turns around, lifts his hat off his head and drops it onto yours. “Call me,” he says, his cocksure grin back on his face. “I’d like to teach you a thing or two more.”

***

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[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, JANUARY 31, 2009 I wanted to run an hour, but due to the heat, I could only do 20 minutes. An hour is about a 600-calorie burn, which would let me easily eat up to 1500 cals a day if I wanted to and still lose weight.

I wish I felt more optimistic about our future, but I still feel like we’re struggling just to get nowhere. It seems there are obstacles and setbacks just waiting to jump out at us at every corner we turn. Today it was camera trouble and he finding out that he’d have to pay $50 in sales tax on the flooring. He’s still going to mention it when he tells Jesse tomorrow that we can only pay half the rent till the 4th. We read the rental agreement in which a standard form that appears to have been downloaded from the net said they’d charge a $25 late fee if the rent wasn’t paid by the 3rd, but since half of it will be paid a day before the 1st, I’m hoping that will be okay. Like I said, it’s all going to depend on how greedy and insensitive the spoiled little rich boy up there is. He has no choice but to wait till the 4th to get it all, and I’ll be damned if we’ll pay any late fees as long as we have to keep listening to his fucking dogs which, coincidentally, started up as soon as I got up. I just don’t understand why they’ve gotten to be such a problem!

Tom thinks Mary’s spell will help us because we finally received that $5 gas card yesterday that we’d given up on and weren’t expecting. Well, I sure hope it helps because I really miss our old life in Oregon. Some of it anyway. I don’t miss the cold or living in that tilted old dump of a house, and of course the noise was much worse, but we had so few stressful days there. I know, though, that by now the shit would’ve hit the fan there, too. He’d have lost his job and been unable to get unemployment, so maybe things would’ve ended up worse. We can never know for sure. We just know we learned the hard way that Oregon makes collecting unemployment very hard to do.

I just hope we survive to get another chance to do things right. So right that it’d take a hell of an awful lot to yank the carpet out from under our feet for the millionth time. Now that we’ve learned about saving and can discipline ourselves from spending, I’d really, really like a shot at saving tons of money and creating a serious cushion for us! It may take a while to do, but if God could let Tom have a job, that’d be a good way to start!

God.

What in the world is up with Him lately? I’m getting the things I’ve been praying NOT to get for months now! Yet He has no problem whatsoever granting the prayers of the bigots who prayed to strip gays of their rights?! WTF?! Do I have to ask for bad and unfair things just to be heard? Do I have to ask that He inflict pain and suffering upon people? Ok, God, go find Joely N, Debra V, Jerry O, Paul K, The DA and Judge H and turn on the suffering! May You lavish all kinds of pain, loss, misery and financial hell upon these sickos that made our lives a living hell for nearly 7 years. Have their neighbors torment them for no reason at all. And also without the slightest bit of provocation, let the law be used and abused against them like crazy! Let them lose their own jobs, their homes, experience sleepless nights, panic attacks, hunger and all kinds of money woes. Oh, and don’t forget the health problems, too. Make them suffer great pain, illness and injury and all with no insurance! Frame ‘em, maim ‘em, then let them too, come home one day to find their beloved pet dying.

Ok, I’m done venting. I shoulda used real names, though. Not only is this MY journal but hey, why not? The Arizona Republic used mine. And people PAID to read that!

Still no real interest in Tyler. She only has 7 views and no watchers. My guess is it’s the outfit. Angelina has 18 views and 4 watchers. Angelina has 18 views and 4 watchers.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 29, 2009 I’m amazed at the feedback I’ve been getting on MD saying how much people love my diary! It’s “well-written and honest,” so I’m told, and I should cheer up too, as things will get better. I sure hope so! I’d have thought my diary would be getting too depressing to read at this point. Seriously, I feel like I haven’t had anything happy to say for quite a while. Well, with the spell Mary is doing for us with a little help on our part, maybe I’ll have happier things to write about soon. I sure do hope so!

The few spells I’ve tried have been worthless, but Tom says it’s because I get impatient and don’t always give things a chance or follow through with completing the spells. I commented on the Return to Sender spell not helping, and he reminded me that there’s a difference between a curse and bad luck. Bad luck is where we’re at now with him being laid off while being set up and tossed in jail, losing our land/house in Arizona, then our land in Oregon, along with other shit we went through, was rather extreme, thus being considered a curse. As Tom reminded me, that particular spell was to lift curses and doesn’t help bad luck in any way like it helped break the curse.

Well, let’s just hope Mary’s spell helps. She says it takes up to 13 days for a spell to manifest and 27 to complete, so we should see a difference by February 27th, since she cast it on the 25th. As I reminded her, we’re nowhere close to being in the desperate fix we were in back in the motel. Technically we’re not even in any serious danger of any kind, just not as comfortable as we’d like to be. Who is these days? Still, a $500 win would come in real handy now and make us plenty comfortable as long as we were wise about it.

She also sent an article on dealing with family issues for me to give to Tammy, but as I told her, I don’t know her current address for sure and don’t want to have any contact either.

Nathan, the guy she’s seeing, is a lawyer. She said she’d mention my willingness to do research for him or anything else within my means for minimum wage. Even just a couple hundred a month would go a long way to making things more comfortable for us.

We relisted Angelina and Tyler. Angelina’s already got 1 watcher. Now that we know where it’s at, we can also see that she’s had 7 views while Tyler’s had 5. This hardly seems like much in the 8 hours they’ve been listed. We’re running them for 7 days this time around instead of 3, and if they sell at the $39 they’re now listed at, we’ll put up 4 more a couple of days apart from one another. Tom also has some odds and ends he’s going to list as well. It’s fun whether you need the money or not!

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 28, 2009 I still wonder what the purpose is in our lives. Why do we keep living? What’s it all for? I still don’t see the point. Not that I’m saying we’re going to kill ourselves, or that I’d write about it if we were, but things seem so depressing right now. Ok, so maybe part of it is PMS, but it still seems like we’re stuck in this endless rut that just goes on and on and on. It’s been months now and there doesn’t seem to be any end coming anytime soon. When, if ever, will things change? He loves being home and getting free money, but we both agree it would be better for him to have a job that pays more money and provides us both with affordable insurance, even if it’s not a job he’d like very much.

He assures me we’ll be okay in the end and that someday we’ll be able to get a house, but I just don’t see it happening. I wish I could, but I don’t. Then again, do I really want to “see” something that very well may not exist?

I feel that we’ve lived up to our full potential, so to speak, and that any chance we may’ve ever had of achieving any kind of security or success is forever gone. We talked about how we screwed up when moving to Maricopa and then to Oregon due to being inexperienced and not knowing what we were doing. To have fucked up that bad – and twice – makes me think something up there deliberately guided us in all the wrong directions just to see us fail. Has anyone else ever fucked up as badly as we did when it comes to buying land and building houses??? Tom had a point when he said, “Who’d have thought that mountain in Oregon would be volcanic and therefore nearly impossible to dig a septic in? And how could we possibly have known Oregon was such a backward state in so many ways?”

Tom is still amazed that such backwardness could exist today.

To me, my feeling so down and hopeless isn’t just about being late with some of the rent. It’s about believing nothing will ever change for us in any significant way. Not for long anyway. This is about the fact that I’m simply tired of life. Nothing excites me anymore. I just can’t think of anything new and exciting anymore. Not that I wouldn’t take it if it came, but even winning a thousand-dollar shopping spree wherever wouldn’t be all that big of a deal at this point. It seems so many of the things I used to look forward to just don’t appeal to me anymore. A house doesn’t excite me anymore because I don’t think it’s a possibility. Getting rid of some of these dolls is now more exciting to me than getting them used to be. I guess it’s a case of new pennies losing their shine over time, plus the fact that dusting over 100 pieces of collectibles of various kinds gets really old after a while.

I’m trying to live for the moment and let the future take care of itself, but it’s a lot easier said than done at times. I just feel we’re so doomed. Year after year we continue to struggle with a few scattered breaks in between that don’t last long. I continue to wait for the insurance that never comes. And now I’m afraid I’m waiting for a house and even a job that may never come.

I still don’t see the purpose of carrying on just to struggle and never have the things we want in life. As I reminded Tom, we have no jobs or kids to hold us back from killing ourselves. No obligations whatsoever. So why wait around for things to get worse if they’re going to? Why grow old and have no one to help take care of us in the end?

Then he begs me to just give things a little more time, even though I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing for months now. Just giving things a little more time. Meanwhile, nothing’s changed.

Tom saw Jesse working on the bulldozer with the kid after wasting his time today going to the doll “store” that’s really someone’s house. Now I hope he’s finally learned his lesson about calling places first! He was going to check out the other flooring store too, but sure enough, his feet decided to drain a bit, so he had to come home and pee. He’s now pretty sure it’s the chair that’s causing all the water retention.

I’m up two pounds to 134 pounds, thanks to a combination of retaining water myself, plus the binging spree I just had to go on yesterday for reasons I still can’t figure out. What made me so damn hungry like that? And why am I hardly hungry at all today? I still don’t get what causes me to be hungry some days and not so hungry other days. I ended up stuffing 2300 calories into my fat face! I rarely have 2000 in a day, so 2300 was definitely a rarity for me. It’s kind of disgusting when I think about it, but oh well. What’s done is done.

Anyway, we were both wondering why the kid would be with Jesse during school hours. I didn’t hear anything this evening, but maybe the reason the dogs were going off right before 6:00 the last few evenings was that that’s when he was bringing the kid back.

He didn’t talk to Jesse because the kid was there and he didn’t want to give him time to think about the fact that we’ll only be paying half the rent on the 1st, while the other half has to wait a few days till the next unemployment check arrives. Tom doesn’t want him to get a chance to talk to Maryann and be persuaded by her to charge late fees, which I would absolutely refuse to pay. Technically one has a 10-day grace period to pay any of it, but we’d be paying half of it on time so that’s two weeks’ worth of rent. We can’t give him money we don’t have before we have it to give to him, so he’s just going to have to accept that. I don’t think there’ll be a problem, but so help me God, if he gives us any shit – any shit at all – I’ll be up there so fast beating him so black and blue he won’t be able to sit for days! And that doesn’t include the fact that he’ll also be shitting teeth for a week after I put my fist down his throat.

It’s usually the spoiled little rich snobs who have no concept of what it’s like to struggle and can’t just take what they can get when they can get it and leave it at that. Believe me when I say this guy hardly seems like he’s hard up for bucks. If he is, then appearances really are deceiving in his case! He’s got a beautiful house, a beautiful piece of land, a brand new truck, a Harley, another truck, and I’d be willing to bet just about anything that they’re all paid for. I still don’t think there’ll be a problem, like I said, because good people are hard to find and I don’t think he wants the hassle of having to go through hunting for renters that may or may not be thieves like the last ones were. I hope not anyway, but since God’s not answering many of my prayers lately, I won’t bother asking Him for any help with this. We’re truly on our own in this world.

Tom evened out my hair with the haircutter a few days ago. It’s closer to one length again and just barely brushes my shoulders. I have just enough to pull into a little stub of a ponytail to get it off my neck when running, but not enough to be nearly the pain in the ass and hard work it used to be. Yup, my long hair days definitely could be over the more I get used to the ease of having it short. I’ve cut it more in the last 8 months than in 20 years altogether! It might be a pain in the ass to have to trim it every month cuz it grows so fast, but better to be a pain once a month, than every day like it used to be when I could sit on it. Just trying to pee with it was a challenge, having to drape the hair to the side just to keep it out of the way. At bedtime, I can now throw it up in a little bun at the crown of my head. Before I had to braid it and toss it up over the pillow and it didn’t always use to stay put throughout the night.

Esme was mailed off to Tennessee today (she almost went to France). Tomorrow we’ll relist Tyler and Angelina after we drop the price by $10. I have 3 other Tonners I’d be okay with selling after that. Tom urged me not to sell anything I don’t want to sell, so I’m selling just a few more that are just so-so and nothing special. That’d be Emme, a replica of a real-life heavy model, and also Emilie and Glinda. When I looked at these dolls and asked myself if I’d rather get the money they could bring or keep them, the money won over the dolls. I should get a couple hundred for the 5 of them. Actually, I may add one of the Sydney Chase dolls, so that’d make it more than $200, especially since I’d be selling only one as a basic. These are all 16” dolls. As for the 22” American Model doll, I haven’t yet fully talked myself into listing her, but I might.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 27, 2009 Esme sold for $53 but the others didn’t budge. Angelina had a watcher at one point, but nothing for Tyler. Tom’s going to check out a doll store about 25 miles away tomorrow that buys dolls and does consignment. Depending on what they say, we may relist the dolls that didn’t sell, plus put up other stuff. We’re actually gearing up to go on quite a selling frenzy, although it might be a day or two before we list more stuff. We have other dolls, coins, books and stuff like that which we could afford to get out of our way. Our space is very limited here, so anything we don’t want can gladly go.

After he checks out the doll store, he’s going to check out a different flooring store over in Grass Valley. I’m pretty sure some of the rent is going to have to be late either way.

I simply don’t share Tom’s optimistic view of the future. It looks so bleak to me. How can it not when no one’s hiring anywhere in the country but maybe Vegas? I still say we’re looking at being broke the rest of our lives if we don’t kill ourselves first to escape homelessness. And the threat of homelessness still looms over my head every day. Just the thought of it and knowing it’s a possibility can really sap one’s will to carry on. I know we’ll never own a house again. There’s no doubt about that. I’d have to win incredibly big and I don’t think I will. Not if we’re really not meant to have a home of our own as I’m getting surer of each year that’s gone by since 2004. I don’t understand how Tom can be so optimistic. I mean, he seems too smart to be naïve, so I just don’t get it. How can he say things are going to work out? If they do work out, it’d be in a half-assed sort of way. Meaning that just because we may get enough money to live on in the end doesn’t mean we’ll ever own a house.

I pointed out to Tom how a quarter of the unemployment checks are going to Jesse and he said, that’s okay, it’s free money and he loves not working, even though, as he says, he’s been sitting so much that it’s making him fat.

As mean and hurtful as it was (and definitely not the way to help someone with a weight problem), and as much as it was usually Tammy who got called a pig as a child rather than me, had my mother called me a pig tonight, she’d have been correct! I don’t understand what causes it, but sometimes I have these days where I’m always hungry and it seems nothing fills me up until I literally stuff myself so full I could almost burst.

So anyway, Tom thinks he’ll get a job, we won’t always struggle, and we won’t always live in NorCal either. He thinks we’ll own a place too, of course. He says he’s going by our history of not staying in the same place for too many years. Oh, I’m going by history too. The one where we moved to Oregon and came a little closer to disaster than I’d like, and the one where we moved to California and came more than just “close” to disaster and were damn near killed! So unless we’re moving to a place that already exists or we have a ton of money to build the home I can’t ever imagine us having, I won’t be wandering off very far at all.

For 3 evenings in a row, the dogs have gone off right before 6:00. Fortunately, these fits haven’t lasted long and there have been few other fits along the way, but if there’s one thing I dread about the economy improving, it’s Jesse going back to work. My guess is that he’s been home this much due to a lack of construction jobs. Could be that he’s not desperate for money as well, but I think the lack of jobs has something to do with it. Well, if he ever gets to working full-time like he was before Christmas, and if he doesn’t do something about the dogs, it’s going to really be hell around here and I’m not looking forward to it!

The rain and the frogs have gone away and it’s to be in the 60s over the next few days. Warm enough not to need heat during the daytime.

MONDAY, JANUARY 26, 2009 The swelling in Tom’s feet, which seems to be water retention, dropped dramatically. He went down 5 pounds overnight. It still comes and goes, but hopefully it will continue to improve. He’s now using the heat massager on his feet which helps.

Attitudes about those threatening suicide have really changed since I tried to take my own life as a teenager over 20 years ago. Nowadays people are quick to get involved and want to help. They don’t write off most threats as mere cries for attention like they did years ago. There’s this lady on OLS who says a teenager on Pogo is threatening suicide. Years ago most people would be quick to tell her, “Don’t get involved. It’s not your problem. It’s probably just an attention-getter. You don’t even know that they’re really a teenager. They’d only take advantage of you if you pay them any mind and use suicide threats as a crutch. Besides, if they do kill themselves, it’s their life, and you’re not responsible for their actions.”

When I threw myself out a 2nd-story window and ended up with a broken arm when I was 17, I was treated as if I had killed a dozen innocent people for no reason at all. Some people smothered me, but most alienated me, making me feel much worse and even sorry that I survived. I was treated like a walking disease. I was made to feel ashamed of myself and I shouldered all the blame for many years, as young as I was.

“Try it again. Maybe next time you’ll succeed,” were the first words out of my mother’s mouth when she came to see me in the hospital. I never forgot those words. Definitely the wrong thing to say to make someone feel better about living, that’s for sure! I think – at least I hope – that even if my mother wouldn’t ever admit it, she at least realizes the error of her words and that she would react differently today, for no one attempts suicide that isn’t absolutely miserable. I’m glad more people today realize that you can’t solve problems with a bottle of pills, isolation, and insensitive words.

I was amazed when I read all the comments offering to pray for this mere electronic being in cyberspace whom they’d never met. Yet of all the dozens of people that I had to live with at the private school in which I tried to kill myself, who prayed for me? Nobody. Not one single, solitary soul.

And who came to visit me at the hospital while I lay there with my arm in a cast besides my parents? No one. Why? Because I “brought it on myself,” the school staff decided. No, no one could influence a 17-year-old to want to die, could they? No, it just had to be all my own doing and all for attention, despite the fact that most people with a rational mind would agree that jumping from a 2nd-story window is a rather risky way to get attention.

So the support I needed was kept from me, all because I was a “spoiled, manipulative little attention-getter.”

SUNDAY, JANUARY 25, 2009 The drama queen sent a message saying she passed my birthday message on to Lisa and that she hopes I’m well. I replied with a quick: U 2. Still not wanting regular contact with her, I thought I should keep it brief, yet there was no reason not to acknowledge the message.

How do I feel? Pretty much the same. She did what she did. She didn’t do what she didn’t do. And in the end, the past cannot be changed. As for the here and now; we’re still two very different people living in two very different parts of the country.

Do I think she’s reading my journal? Before I wasn’t sure, but now I’m thinking no, probably not. Wouldn’t she be getting pissed over some of the things I’ve written and let me know if she were? Then again, maybe she realizes that opinions are like assholes, everybody’s got ‘em. She also may realize that one’s belief in something doesn’t necessarily make it wrong just because we may not all agree. She says the best color is purple. I say it’s pink. Yet that doesn’t make me any more or less correct.

When will I write my folks next? I’ll probably send letters mostly on birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, that sort of thing.

Well, it had been a peaceful day up until right before 6:00, but then the dogs started going off. Whether or not it was more than just a few barks, I don’t know. I didn’t want to hear it so I threw the music on. The only other thing we heard from today was all the frogs. They’re still pretty active, even though it was sunny throughout most of the day.

I’m surprised the dogs took so long to make themselves heard. When Tom returned from the flooring place it was already after 2:00. I then made the comment about how Jesse must’ve been home all day so far because it had been quiet, but Tom said he didn’t see his truck up there.

The flooring place was closed today, so he has to return tomorrow. I can’t believe the store was closed on Sunday of all days! That’s when most people are off work.

One of the dolls has a couple of watchers, but no bids yet. I wouldn’t expect much action until Tuesday.

I offered to sell 4-5 more Tonners I don’t absolutely have to have that are just okay and that I’ve enjoyed for enough time now if only to raise money to help get the TV and his Mac back, but Tom said I didn’t have to do that unless I wanted to. He said worst-case scenario he could get up enough money easily enough to buy the TV back, then sell it outright on Craigslist, then use that money to get the Mac. Knowing how he overestimates things and puts too much faith in whatever, this would probably be easier said than done.

If only we’d gotten 50 gallons of propane instead of 100! We just didn’t think we’d have that warm spell in January of all months, though it’s gotten cold again. It’s going to get down into the 30s tonight but will warm back up in a few days. They’re getting snow at the highest point of the Sierras, something I’m glad we won’t get!

As for the program, there’s both good and bad news where that’s concerned. Yes, it does exactly what Tom created it to do. But not nearly as fast as he thought it would. It would take years for the money to build up enough to be our sole source of income without putting hundreds of dollars into it. Better slower than never, but for now I’m going to continue assuming we’re going to be struggling all or most of our lives without ever owning a house again. If I think positively, I could only end up disappointed in the end. But if we ever do get more than we – or I – expect, then I’ll be pleasantly surprised which will make it all the more exciting.

Anyway, the program’s not going anywhere till he gets a job if even that much is still possible. With a job, just $50 would eventually get it to where we want it to go. We don’t feel the need to invest more money to speed things up because we’re not in a bad place we’re desperate to escape. The only time the place sucks is when the dogs won’t shut up. Well, that and when I get to wishing we had just one more room and an additional half-bath!

SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 2009 We listed 3 dressed Tonner dolls earlier for $49 each. I hope they sell! We’ll find out on Tuesday.

The frogs have been ribbeting up a storm due to all the rain we’ve had.

The last two days have been wonderfully quiet. Just a few barks and a minute of the freeloaders revving up their dirt bikes, if that’s what it really is.

I guess I’ll call this an entry, as short as it is. There just isn’t anything else to say right now.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 22, 2009 Jesse’s certainly not going roaring off on his motorcycle anytime soon. Not with this rain. Yeah, no more warm afternoons in shorts. It’s pretty chilly out there now and it’s going to be rainy and damp for a few days. Jesse could still take off in the truck and leave us to deal with his fucking dogs, but we do intend to deal with the situation soon enough. We agreed that Tom would be the one to talk to him. Tom feels he may have a harder time understanding me because I’m from the East and talk differently. I say the guy’s just your typical dumb-ass male. Like I said before, he may be crafty, but he’s still a guy, most of whom are stupid idiots. And as long as he’s going to interrupt, ramble and change subjects wildly like he does, of course he’s not always going to get what people are trying to tell him. Hopefully, Tom will just get to the point and let him know that hey, we know it’s not his fault and that he probably hasn’t a clue as to what goes on when he’s not here, but we’d like him to do something so we no longer have to deal with this racket. We didn’t come here for this shit!

We can’t make him take responsibility and we can’t control how he may react. Maybe he’ll take things personally and come undone like the Phoenix freeloaders, but I don’t think so. Then again, I don’t care how he takes it as long as he does something to restore the peace around here. Today it’s quiet cuz of the rain and the fact that he hasn’t left yet, but half the time it’s noisy and it never used to be like this. Since last October or November, the barking has been much more frequent and longer-lasting. If he does have an I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude, we’ll move as soon as we can, but I can tell you one thing for sure and that’s that I won’t be going out of here peacefully if we’re forced to move cuz he won’t shut the damn things up. I guess it will depend on how badly he wants us to stay. People who own sites like OLS can continue to ignore member requests for things they want because they can well afford to, and while Jesse may be able to afford to lose $825 a month, I would still think he’d rather not do so and therefore risk getting the kinds of thieves he had in here last time around.

We both got wins today. He won a Flip video camera from Pepsi, and I got the coffee and CD I won.

Later…

Just when I thought we were going to get to go the whole day without any barking, the dogs go crazy. Obviously, Jesse took off in the truck. Damn! Can’t the cock stay home all day for just one day? Just one day? Tom thinks he went to bring the trash to Maryann’s.

Anyway, that so-called farming equipment I’ve been hearing lately may very well actually be the freeloaders’ dirt bike which Jesse said they had. When I opened the bathroom window and listened, that’s what it sounded like to me. How ironic that as soon as they’re ordered to keep their dogs on their own damn land they start with the dirt bike. It’s like they just have to do something to be annoying. I’ve noticed this trait in people. If they can’t do one thing, they just go and do something else. I’m a little worried Jesse may do the same thing, although I would think he’d just do nothing at all about the barking before he’d control the barking and then do something else.

Kim traded in noise for noise. When I mentioned all the door-slamming she was quick to say she’d curb it for me, and I thought, wow, she took that quite well for a Westerner! Then she goes and starts with the car stereo instead.

I almost wish - if Jesse absolutely must replace the dogs with something - that we could return to the days of him coming down here as much as he used to because he certainly didn’t bug me here nearly as much as the dogs have been barking.

The more I think about it, the more a retirement community appeals to me more than rural, although I still don’t think we’ll ever own our own place again anywhere. In retirement communities, we would at least not have to worry about motorcycles, dirt bikes, sonic booms, loose dogs, and barking dogs kept outside around the clock. I would think not even the most cursed of people would get a noisy neighbor there. Besides, if they did, they could do something about it a lot easier than they could in most other places.

Tom was laughing when I said he was too positive. Well, it’s true! LOL, these woods could be engulfed in flames and he’d still be like, “Everything’s fine. Just relax. We’ll be okay.”

Waste of time or not, when I was going through my usual list of ‘we-should-haves’ - we should have run the freeloaders out and stayed in Phoenix, we should have stayed in Arizona, we should have stayed in Oregon - to spare ourselves from the disasters we went through, he said that while he could see my point, the adventures, and even the disasters, were still kind of fun. Wow, he’s got a pretty strange definition of “fun” if that’s how he feels! Then again, I guess it depends on which disasters you’re judging. Sure, the Oregon disaster was actually quite a joyride compared to the one here. And I can’t believe I thought that between the trains, planes, and cruise itself, it was oh-so rough of a trip. What a picnic compared to the 8-month “trip” we were on coming here!

The abortion protesters are pissing me off again. Why can’t they just not get an abortion if they don’t want one and leave everybody else the hell alone?!

I forgot to mention the frogs. We hear them at night, usually more so when it rains, and they sound pretty neat.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21, 2009 Jesse definitely hasn’t been working regularly, but some days he leaves on the motorcycle at 11:30 and doesn’t return for 2-4 hours, leaving the dogs to go crazy on and off, thus proving that what vehicle he takes off with isn’t the issue. Either something’s stirring them up that we can’t see or hear, or they’re barking just to be barking. Or maybe they feel lonely, abused and neglected. I don’t know. I just know that I went and left the note in his box, despite Tom’s urging me to wait (if it were up to him Jesse would never get the note). Then I came back and said to myself, “What’s the point? Even if Jesse cares enough to control the damn dogs when he’s out, there’ll just be something else. If it’s not him that goes and does something else, someone else around here will. You know you’ll get punished for trying to quiet any source of noise life may sic on you, so what’s the point?”

Then I went and retrieved the note, took it back inside, tore it up and threw it away. That ought to score points with God. If I just accept and live with the pain, poverty and noise He loves to see me live with without fighting it, maybe then He’ll give us a break. This doesn’t mean I still won’t throw on music or fans to drown out the noise or that I won’t pop painkillers when my teeth or ear act up, but I won’t bother to try to get to the root of the problem, more or less.

Speaking of pain, it hasn’t been as bad as usual lately, so that’s nice. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’m enjoying it while it does. All I have is a little hip inflammation right now. I did a lot of walking across the parking lot yesterday where the stores are that we went to, plus I run my daily mile, plus I just scaled the hill here twice, and some parts of it are so steep it’s literally like climbing a wall, and all at 43 years of age. You really have to be in shape to get up and down that thing.

What’s amazing is that my weight has been holding steady even though I haven’t been dieting lately. I guess running a mile a day is the only way to go if you want to stuff yourself at times like I love to do. How else could I slam a batch of cookies into my face and hold the same weight? Later I’ll be slamming on a basket of French fries, too! LOL

I swear I smell like a skunk now! I don’t know if it was Tom or Jesse, but one of them hit a skunk at the fork and my clothes smelled of it when I got back inside. Although I threw my shirt in the hamper, I swear I still smell traces of it on me, even after spraying perfume on me. My nose is as good as any dog’s is, though, so I’ll probably smell it till my next shower.

The only other things we’ve been hearing around here lately is a motorcycle that sounds like a saw coming from further down the hill, plus some kind of farming equipment in that direction, too. I can’t imagine what it could be, though, as I didn’t think there were any farms in this immediate area. Yet I hear the sound of a large vehicle chugging along from around 2:00 to sundown. It definitely sounds like some sort of tractor. Could they be preparing for a new house on some land around here?

Although I’m still a bit down, I’m trying my best to accept fate. Tom insists we won’t be struggling all our lives and that it’s just a matter of time before we find our niche. Just like I found a way to lose weight after many years of trying. I was actually around 37 when I stopped being able to lose weight, much less keep what little I’d lose off. That’s when I had my ring enlarged, but then I got even bigger that I could barely stand to wear it. Today, though, I have to take it off just to shower and do dishes to keep it from going down the drain!

I kept going back and forth in my mind as to whether or not I want to lose more weight or just stay where I’m at. I think I’ll try to get into the 120s since I’m just a few pounds away, but not for about a week or so.

Anyway, as I pointed out to Tom, it takes money to make money and we don’t have money. He says he still thinks the horses could work, but that it would take $500 instead of $50 to make it happen which he just didn’t realize. I don’t think so, though.

I could also sell a book through Lulu, but again, this would take a few grand that we don’t have.

Besides, as I said to Tom, if there was a way to make money, everyone would be doing it. He said that’s why they call it a “niche.” He said he doesn’t know if it will be the horses or a website we put up, but that we’ll find it.

Yeah, when?

Meanwhile, we’re going to be setting a reserve on 3 Tonners on eBay in a few days. They’ll be listed separately but will run simultaneously and we’ll refuse to do combined shipping for the no doubt many people who will ask for it. Separate shipping would make us more money. Everybody wants something for nothing, but we can’t afford to practically give these pricey collectibles away like we did with the Barbies. Paying the rent depends on it, along with the flooring, and some of it may still have to be a few days late.

People’s greedy selfishness really disgusts me. Hell, we all want a good deal. But the way so many people expect others to just give, give, give and get nothing in return really makes me sick! Have they forgotten that these people they expect to shower them with freebies have bills to pay, too? Or do they just not give a damn?

Tom also feels certain things will change now that Obama’s officially in office. I still have to wonder if he was only picked for his color. Tom says he doesn’t think he won cuz he’s black, but because the Republicans have fucked things up so long that people were willing to vote for any Democrat that was running.

Once again I deleted the letters to my parents from MD. I figured that anyone who may want to read them has already done so. Plus, I have them backed up elsewhere so they don’t really need to be there anyway.

Tom’s feet are still swollen. He remembers the Queen having the same problem when she was his age where her feet just swelled up for no apparent reason. He’s swollen all the way up to the middle of his calves. We both agree that his weight gain is connected to this, cuz that’s quite a jump and in no time at all. He’s usually 225-230 pounds, so to jump to 262 practically overnight tells us something.

He’s started doing some low-impact exercising to hopefully bring the swelling down. I just hope it’s nothing serious. That’s all we’d need on top of my own shit!

Later…

Did Jesse leave again in the truck? We know he returned on the motorcycle at 1:15 because we heard it loud and clear, but if he slipped out in the truck we wouldn’t know it as that’s the only thing of his we can’t hear. But I can hear the fucking dogs going off right now. Again. God, I’d sure hate to think he’s up there just sitting there letting them go off like this! How utterly rude that would be! That would also go against what he told me. His exact words were, “I try to keep my dogs quiet.” Well, they’re far from quiet now, but hey, I’m on days now. So why wouldn’t they be going off, right?

TUESDAY, JANUARY 20, 2009 Although my decision not to associate with Tammy still stands (although knowing her, she told people it was her decision), I posted a happy birthday message to Lisa on my wall on Facebook, not that I expected anyone to see it.

Lisa would be in her mid-20s now. Hope she hasn’t gotten knocked up yet. I mean, that’s still a little young to be having kids, no matter how much money and support you may have.

I wonder how many of them had to be drugged up (besides just Lisa) in order to deal with Tammy. Did Tammy carry on the “funny farm” tradition that began with me? Although my folks and Tammy are far from the worst people in existence, they never seemed to get that while you can lead a horse to water, you cannot make it drink. It’s that way with the typical teenage bullshit every parent seems to think is oh-so extreme in their case. Every parent seems to think they’ve got it the worst. But guess what? You can dope them up, you can lock them up, but they’re still going to be who they are. Only time, age and experience can change and shape who we are, and that’s still got to be up to us as individuals. Not our families, not our friends, not society, and not doctors.

So, although I don’t ever expect to talk to Lisa again either, I hope she’s doing well in life and getting at least some of the things she wants.

As for me, there’s no doubt in my mind that we’ll never own anything again and so I’m still bummed out. We went out today which perked me up a little, but just being cursed with this sleep disorder alone is enough to tell me I’ll never win a house or enough money to buy one. Or at least most of it with anyway. To win a house or big bucks would totally defeat the purpose of cursing me with the sleep disorder in the first place. I was cursed with it to keep me from working outside of the house, thus providing us with two incomes. Therefore, why would I ever be allowed to win enough to buy a house and some real security in life? To compensate us for the years we suffered financially? I don’t think so. If that were the case, what’s taking so long?

So this reality check has had me feeling rather down. Even if I knew we’d never be so bad off that we’d end up on the streets, the thought of living in other people’s places for the rest of my life really sucks. I’m trying to look on the bright side of things to counter my dreary, hopeless mood. At least we didn’t get stuck in some rocking apartment complex like I thought we would. I would’ve been utterly miserable and who knows when I’d have finally gotten pushed too far by one unruly neighbor after another that I’d have lost it and beaten them into silence.

Tom said he believes we can buy something in a retirement community when he’s 55, but he also believed the program would pay off and he was wrong.

If we survive and continue to make shitty money, I still need to see a dentist, an optometrist and an ear doctor. Plus, we need things like a new mattress, a couch, some clothes, and to fix the car’s AC. This doesn’t include doing things around here to make the place more comfortable for us like redoing the carpet and floors if we were to stay here indefinitely, which I doubt Jesse would mind. He may be noisy at times, but he’s easygoing in that he pretty much wouldn’t care what we did with the place as long as we weren’t hurting anything. Tom said that except for the dentist, these things are insignificant, but to me, they still add up to be enough of a cost.

One thing’s for sure and that’s that if we make it, we’ll never leave NorCal. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wouldn’t move long distance ever again without a ton of money. Sometimes I wish we were in the east where it rains more and dogs are house pets. I get sick of the extreme night/day temperature fluctuations and how it’s customary in the West to toss your dogs outside and forget about them. And these are always big dogs with big barks. Rarely does anyone out here get small dogs. I guess I should just be glad that if we have to remain anywhere, it’s here. This is the best climate I’ve lived in so far. A little dry at times, and a little cold in the winter, but it’s nice not to have the killer winters Massachusetts and Oregon did or the killer summers Arizona had. I’d still take extreme heat over extreme cold, though.

Because it was quiet two days in a row, now three, we put the note to Jesse on hold for now. I’m sure they’ll be a problem again soon enough, but for now, we’re holding off till he starts taking off more often again, which I think he would at some point.

Oddly enough, though, we didn’t see any vehicles or the dogs when we came and went earlier today.

We picked up our mail. I finally got one of my prizes from Kiwi which was the lotion. Then we went to the drugstore where we found they had a surprisingly large selection of incense, some of which I’d never heard of like Caribbean Nights. At just a dime a stick, I got 50, 10 of which are patchouli, one of my favorites. Lastly, we grabbed some things from the grocery store.

Oh, shit. There goes the dogs right now. There’s one that barks much more than the other and so it’s the usual one I’m hearing right now. I knew the peace wouldn’t last long.

MONDAY, JANUARY 19, 2009 I know I should be a good little bum, sit on my ass, and let my actions match our income. But I was never one for sitting still. So, on account of my allergies acting up, I decided to do some serious cleaning and rearranging around here. Like I said, whether my days are numbered or not, why not be as comfortable as possible? I ended up working pretty hard on several different things. What will my reward be for it all? Oh, the usual, I suppose. More poverty, a little bit of pain, maybe even some real pain. After all, I wouldn’t be a true human being in God’s eyes if I could have a day off from pain and struggling now, would I?

Tom doesn’t think things will end up as bad as in the motel, but Tom never thinks anything bad will happen until it actually does. I myself don’t know for sure if things will get that bad, but I certainly see potential there. Instead, the phone could ring with a fairly well-paying job for Tom. It’s just that I know God wouldn’t be that kind to us. He never lets anything be that simple for us, but yes, a simple solution that would certainly be a quick fix to the problem would be for him to get a decent job. But I know that if we survive, he’s going to be one of the ones to get the $9-$10 job.

He says we could find a way to make it, and worst-case scenario, buy something in a retirement community when he’s 55 as opposed to building something on a large piece of land. But that’s just the thing I keep questioning. I’m sick of struggling to “try to find a way” to make it. I just want to be allowed to simply live without having to fight tooth and nail to do so. If this is about God punishing me for trying to take my life once upon a time, then He should’ve thought about that when He allowed the circumstances to occur that led me to take such actions.

I wouldn’t mind living in a retirement community so long as Granny’s not going to leave her dogs outside just a few feet from our place all the time, play musical car doors with a ton of company, or allow her unruly grandkids to scream outside for hours every weekend, but I still don’t see how we’ll ever have the credit or the money to buy anything. Maybe a falling-down dump in the middle of a crime-infested area of the city, but that’s about it.

We talked about renting a bigger, newer place to hole up in till he turns 55, yet once again and despite the fact that rents are dropping, I don’t see how we could afford to do that either. And even if Jesse refuses to shut his dogs up, I don’t know that I’d want to. Yeah, I hate being cramped in this little old dive, but I’d hate to give up this kind of seclusion and privacy, and I’d really hate to trade 2 dogs in for 10, and 1 motorcycle in for a million car stereos, plus screaming kids, plus whatever other shit people can think of to be loud, rude and obnoxious. So it would take a hell of a lot of money and a hell of a good deal, both of which I’m virtually certain wouldn’t be the case. It’s just not in our cards for something that good to happen. That 9K win was a fluke as were the last two years in Oregon where we didn’t have money problems at all.

The rent is paid up till February, so I still have some time to decide whether or not I’m willing to struggle on in life like a little bum.

Oh, God, can’t I at least have insurance to get my teeth fixed? Oh, wait a minute. That’s too much to ask for. How dare me!

And how dare I even think of asking Him to help Tom with his swollen feet either. We’re still not sure what’s causing it, but his feet and calves are horribly swollen. He can barely get his flip-flops on. There’s no way he could get his sneakers on, that’s for sure. But would God care to help him if I asked Him to? Why should He? He’s got more important things to do like making sure people get away with murder, letting the rich get richer, and helping to ensure that gays don’t get any rights while more and more of them go to the almighty black man.

Make sure the hungry stay that way too, God!

Incredibly, we heard not one single bark yesterday, but that’s become the new fluke. I’m sure that today they’ll be going crazy. Especially if Jesse takes off somewhere. And I’m on days now, so that alone will make it noisier. We’re going to leave him the note either way and let him know just what goes on around here when he does take off, but like I said, I don’t know if he’ll care to do anything about it. I guess that will depend on how badly he wants us to stay here, cuz he certainly can’t know that we’re not in a position to move.

The afternoons have been gorgeous. We’ve been able to open windows from around 11:00 – 4:00. Had we known it’d be this warm this soon we wouldn’t have gotten so much propane. I don’t ever remember January being this warm in Arizona.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 18, 2009 I decided to make a new journal on Kiwi and mark it private. Kiwi’s still a bit more social than I’d like, and I don’t have many happy things to write about lately anyway.

I’m still depressed, frustrated and even pissed. There’s no doubt in my mind that there’s a curse on us that can never be lifted. Funny how there’s always something tripping us up. We’d have been okay had the propane not run out sooner than anticipated. Every single fucking time we get ahead, we get the carpet yanked from under our feet. Every solution we come up with turns out to be nothing but a temporary fix. Like what we’re going to do later on today and that’s put up 3 of the Tonners on eBay. I don’t care for these 3 much and would sell them anyway, but just the fact that we have to sell them and can’t sell them simply because we want to really pisses me off. It’s just a matter of time before we run out of things to pawn and sell. Well, I’m tired of selling our lives away and working our asses off just to be dirt-poor! And even if we could know that we’d have just enough to pay for our necessities, do I really want to do that and rent someone else’s tiny dump for the rest of my life? I’m surer than ever that we’ll never own anything of our own. I thought of asking my folks to will their condo to us. We’d sell it, of course, and get a detached house, but I figure they’d probably want the drama queen to sell it and give most of the money to her kids.

As for the dogs, I’ve had it. I’ve totally had it. So the next time Tom drives out he’s going to leave the note I should’ve given him months ago since he’s too hard to talk to. Whether my days are numbered or not, I want the peace and quiet we came here for! Or at least a chance at getting it back. I’m tired of this fucking bullshit that’s been going on now just about every day for 3 months!

SATURDAY, JANUARY 17, 2009 So Tom says paying the rent isn’t the dire crisis I think it is. Yeah, I know. And we’re still supposed to get rich, right? Right? Isn’t that why the horses lost yesterday? Okay, so we only put a few bucks into the account to begin with, but a loss is a loss, isn’t it? And what an amazing coincidence that what passes with flying colors in testing suddenly fails us when it’s used for real. This convinces me all the more that we’re not meant to have money. I don’t know why God would want us to struggle on and to suffer in any way, but I guess He must have his reasons. Whatever the reason is, I don’t know that I want to live to pay next month’s rent in the first place. This is no longer just about what’s going on now, but about our inevitably bleak future as well. I don’t want to struggle for another 30-40 years. I don’t want to rent other people’s old dumps all our lives. So what if we can pay the rent this month? It’d still be just a matter of time before we couldn’t. Like I’ve said before, it’s only the bad places I can’t get out of. We’re going to run out of money at some point because this place is quiet overall. Jesse’s dogs and engines may annoy me at times, but compared to other places I’ve lived in, it’s dead quiet here, so why would I be allowed to live in peace for any real length of time? That’s why we lost the Maricopa house, too. Despite the stress the blacks and their corrupt pig pal put on us, it was fairly quiet there and I loved that house, which was ours. Peace is just as much of a no-no for me as money is, so I’m not the least bit surprised at what’s going on here. I knew when they laid him off that it was the beginning of the end and not some road to a better life.

No, I’m not going to ask my folks for help either. Maybe if they were younger and had more money I would, but they can’t be around to save us forever, and they have their own shit to deal with. I know that if we killed ourselves they’d be hurt and maybe even angry for a while, but I would think deep down that they’d understand as best they could for someone who has no concept of what it’s like to be poor.

I exercised out of habit, but I’m not sure I can work on my story. It’s hard to bring myself to work on something I may not be around to finish, but I guess I will simply because I don’t have much else to do other than wait for the inevitable to play itself out.

Later…

I haven’t wanted to drop dead this badly in a long time. I’d still be scared, but not like in the motel. The sicker I get of living and the more our chance for security slips away, the more ready I feel. Sure I’d miss certain things like my hobbies, but I’ve listened to enough music in my life, I’ve sung enough songs, collected enough dolls, watched enough movies and written enough stories. But what I’m sick of doesn’t even come close to comparing to what I’d miss. I’m sick of struggling, I’m sick of the barking every single fucking place we live. I’m sick of the simplest of things in life being totally out of reach simply because it’s me who wants them. I’m sick of living in old beat-up dumps with doors that don’t close right or that don’t stay open as is the case with the bedroom door here. I’m sick of the fact that nothing excites me anymore. Nothing has seemed new and exciting for a while now. Not sex, not new clothes, not traveling… nothing. Instead, the only thing that seems to excite me is the thought of escaping life’s bullshit. To have no more teeth pain, no more periods, no more struggling to keep weight off. My eyes would never have to get any worse, not that I could ever afford an optometrist any more than a dentist. I’d never get any older or any grayer. I’d never have to deal with menopause. I’d never have to spend another minute wondering who will take care of us when we get too old to care for ourselves. I’d never have to be inconvenienced again by a sleep disorder. My ear would no longer be a problem, and of course, I wouldn’t have to deal with it should the lump in my breast be cancerous as much as I doubt it is since I doubt I’d ever have insurance before I was 65. There’d be no more pawning and selling things just to never get ahead. No more worrying about losing the roof over our heads. No more having to do without simple everyday luxuries like a full-size washer that’s always hooked up or a dishwasher. No more being so cramped in you can only walk around one side of the bed and part of the foot. No more living on someone else’s stained carpet, since we could never have our own again.

Not even winning a grand would be exciting at this point. It would only be a temporary fix. Our security would only be on the line once again as soon as the money ran out, and we certainly wouldn’t have our dream house either. The only way to “security” would be to kill someone and be sure to get caught for it. That’d be sure to keep us off the streets! Ain’t life just grand?

Do I wish I could suddenly snap my fingers and have my dream of owning a modest house where we don’t have to hear other people’s dogs be gone? No, as I don’t see the point in that. It would only be replaced with some other impossible dream. As I said, the dream doesn’t have to be anything far-fetched. It only has to be mine. Being mine automatically disqualifies it from becoming possible.

If the house we had in Phoenix had been a little nicer and we’d had normal, civilized neighbors, we’d still be there today, and the house would be all paid for. But God wanted us to suffer instead.

Tom pointed out that things might’ve been worse had we remained in Phoenix, and that a zillion different other things could’ve gone wrong. This is true. A meteorite could’ve smashed through the roof. I could’ve had a child rather than a miscarriage. We could’ve become seriously ill or injured. But the odds of these uncool things happening wouldn’t have been likely. We’ll never know, though, what would have happened. I only know what did happen and that something up there definitely does NOT have our best interest at heart and is NOT guiding us to the better life we had so hoped for here. Since we left Phoenix, and since we lost the Maricopa house, maybe we should’ve stayed in Oregon. It’d be cold, snowy, noisy, and I wouldn’t have insurance till I was 65, but at least the rent would be half of what it is here. Even if they laid him off, I don’t see how we’d be at risk of ending up on the streets.

Boy, was I wrong about God! Who the hell was I kidding in thinking I had a friend in Him? And how could I have been so damn naive to think that if I just prayed and did all the necessary steps I possibly could towards achieving our goals and dreams, we would eventually succeed? Well, guess what? There is no home for us. Not in this life.

Today I’m not going to bother doing much of anything. No sweeping, no cleaning, no nothing. I’ll just write and listen to music here and there. Hey, if we’re going to have to live like bums I might as well act like one for once and just be totally lazy.

Right now the dogs are going crazy and I’ve had enough! We can’t kill them because Jesse has no set schedule, yet I’d like a shot at getting some peace during the last couple weeks of my life, and so as soon as that cock roars back on its motorcycle, I intend to call up there and see if I can get him to at least move the damn things if he’s not going to take them inside. I’d rather him tell us he’s not going to do shit about them than to have never tried anything at all.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 16, 2009 Paula says I’ve changed a lot. I don’t like gabbing on the phone like I used to and am just different in many ways, she says, not that this is a bad thing, but just something she’s noticed.

I think it’s normal to change throughout the years. Our lives change, our interests and priorities change, and therefore, so do we.

Our lives are worse than ever yet that’s not quite the case at the same time. Not that I didn’t have my share of stressful, frustrating and sometimes depressing issues to have to deal with in the past, but this is different. This is about our survival. Things may’ve happened in the past to upset me in various ways, but never was my life on the line either before or after meeting Tom as it has been on and off for the last few years. The closest I came to that was when I was smoking and having bad asthma attacks, but that still wasn’t the same as this. Month after month I sit and wonder if we’re going to make it. I feel totally helpless as we wait and wait and wait some more.

Tom still thinks he’s going to get a job this month with affordable insurance. That’s pretty hopeful in a country that doesn’t seem to be hiring anywhere. But that’s just Mr. Naively Optimistic for you! I’ve never heard of anyone in their 50s that was this optimistic. Never. Overconfident or not, though, we did have a small profit yesterday which he says he knew would be slow, but not this slow. I still don’t see how getting aggressive with it can change fate, though. We were meant to be poor as much as he was meant to have hazel eyes and I was meant to be short. Some things really just don’t change, and struggling to make something be that’s not meant to be is only going to make you all the more frustrated.

I really hope Jessie’s in Vegas now. It’s -16º in Massachusetts now!

Later…

I keep hoping for a miracle, but I don’t really expect one. The phone could ring right now and Tom could get an adequate or even a good-paying job, and we could be saved if only for a little while. Or his program could quit giving us false hope and really start making some money for once if only just enough to get by on.

But is this really realistic to hope for? I guess that will depend on whether or not we’re meant to make it. Either way, we’re not going to die before February. Of that much, I’m sure of. And since I don’t know whether or not life will continue for us after the 31st, I’m going to try not to dwell on it. But when I can’t help it, and when I start to feel sad over the things I’d miss in life, I’ll remind myself of the bad things I won’t miss at all. For now, though, I’m going to try to live like we have all the security in the world and a God that doesn’t hate us enough not to save us somehow, some way.

And that means following through with the story idea that came to me in my dreams, as most of them do. A couple of nights ago when I had all kinds of depressing dreams, I was in jail, and Kate Jackson, of all people, was my defense lawyer. I don’t know what it was I did or if I was really guilty or not, but it spawned an idea that could stem from what I’ve got so far. Maybe one character could be framed for the murder that another character really committed for insurance money or something like that.

Amazingly enough, my journal is still on the ‘most popular’ list. Now that I know it’s determined by unique IP hits, I’m not sure why. While there are at least a dozen or so people that I know that may have this link, I’m guessing it’s fellow OLSers. I doubt my pal Sherri is the only one who’s ever been curious about it.

It’s 81º in here and I have the fan on and the windows open. Meanwhile, it’s 12º where Jessie might be and where Paula definitely is! LOL

THURSDAY, JANUARY 15, 2009 When I first got up last night I couldn’t figure out why I was still so tired. This is when Tom told me he broke even that day on our “bread and butter” track in which he had a few brains that had been tested and qualified for. This is a SoCal track that has passed every day in testing. For it to conveniently break even when we suddenly play it for real confirms all the more that we’re not meant to have money.

Then I looked at the clock and saw that I had only slept 4½ hours. If I had any doubts left about Tom being totally brainwashed by this program, they’re gone now. Depressed, I fell back into a sleep that was full of all kinds of dismal dreams.

The next time I opened my eyes it was 3 AM. I vowed then and there that if we survived, I would make this our “dream home.” We can’t enlarge it, we can’t modernize it, we can’t own it, but we can make it more comfortable. Tom’s always going to tell me his program is “right there” no matter what. All I can do is accept the fact that our dream house is just that – a dream. Especially the kind I want. For whatever reason, God decided I shouldn’t have my dreams come true in this life. I don’t know, maybe in a past life I cheated someone out of their dreams and I’m paying for it here in this life. I’ll never know why. I just know the facts.

I wracked my brain trying to figure out a way to make it on the streets, but with this schedule disorder and my inability to handle stress, heat and cold that well, I know I never could do it. And where would I stay all day while he was at work? Shelters only let you stay there at night. It sucks too, for at this point, the streets would probably be my first choice because then I’d no longer have to worry about ending up homeless. I would think I would feel a sense of freedom and that a burden was lifted from me to no longer have to worry about losing something I no longer had to lose.

But death is the only alternative to the streets. Should we make it somehow, I’m going to try my best to forget about owning a new place and make the best of this little trailer. It’s secluded and it’s peaceful when the dogs are quiet, so why not? It’s small and old but there are things we could do over the years, as money permits it, that’d make it more comfortable. I’ll just have to try to look at the bright side of staying here. Owning a home doesn’t have the value it used to have, we don’t have to fix things that break, and so it’s a lot less complicated in some ways if we just remain renters.

In a few years, maybe I’ll get to a dentist. Then in a few years after that, maybe we can pick out our own floors and carpets. That’d make it homier and like the place was more ours. I’ll get rid of a lot of the dolls to make more room in here since it’s only 500 square feet.

If there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s not to bother wasting time struggling for what isn’t meant to be. I wouldn’t have this sleep disorder to prevent me from working outside of the house if we weren’t meant to struggle. I would love to work from home. But most of them aren’t legit and require you to drive to people’s houses. Not very easy for someone who doesn’t drive or live on a bus route. Besides, selling things door to door isn’t the way to go no matter what. Maybe 50 years ago it was, but not today. Today most folks don’t appreciate random house calls, especially by salespeople. And the few good home jobs that are out there don’t exactly advertise themselves. Those jobs are usually obtained through people we personally know.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 14, 2009 Another wish has been granted! Ah, the comfort of peace of mind. Two down, one to go and that’s the biggie (Tom’s program).

It was 8:30 yesterday morning. I was at the computer when I heard a big truck and hoped it was the propane people. Then I said to myself, like they’re going to actually keep their word by being here first thing like they said!

Then I reminded myself of one simple fact. We live in the middle of the forest. Nothing that close wouldn’t be coming here. And it was! So now we don’t have to worry about running out. I don’t like that it was $200, but it’s nice not to have to worry about that for a while. Hopefully, this will last 2-3 months, and then next time for the rest of the year. Of course, I still don’t know if we’re going to make it, so I’m trying to just enjoy the moment and not worry whether or not we’re going to be able to pay February’s rent. I mean, I’m not stupid. I know chances are we’ll lose the place and have to kill ourselves to keep from slowly dying off in misery on the streets. I know chances are Tom’s overestimating the program. And I know chances are all the prayers in the world won’t save us. If whatever’s up there didn’t want us to struggle, we wouldn’t be. Money may’ve been in my parents’ cards and other people’s cards, but it’s not for us. It’s just not for us. Money’s not going to save us, it’s going to kill us. It’s only a matter of time. At least that’s what will probably be the case anyway. But for now, I’m going to live like I have another 40 years or so!

We even took a break from dieting for a few days. I’m already up to 133, but that’s okay. It’s worth it.

Yesterday was beautiful in the afternoon. We had the windows open.

Maine wants to legalize gay marriage. What for? So the bigots can take it away?

I won a couple of writing contests on Kiwi. Every week they choose a winner who’s reviewed articles and commented on them, so that got me extra points!

Later…

My heart says I want to live and be happy just like anyone would. My head says, get out! Just get out! You can’t make be what isn’t meant to be, and in your case, money isn’t meant to be. So just kill yourself before you die of poverty. This isn’t about not having enough to buy a house of our own. This is about not having enough to pay the fucking rent. I’m tired of our survival being on the line! I’m tired of “fighting” to live. I’m sick of being in pain, without insurance, and unable to see a dentist. I’m sick of it all!

TUESDAY, JANUARY 13, 2009 I hope tomorrow (now today) is a much better day than yesterday. There was some good in it in that I won 12 oz. of coffee in a monthly sweep. I chose the decaf Southern Pecan. It was either that or the Kona Macadamia Nut or Colombian Supreme. Anything that isn’t dark or French roast! Yup, the less we need something, the more likely we are to get more of it! I still have that Cinnamon Crumb Cake coffee I won, plus a Wal-Mart sample, plus what’s still in the canister. That would be the Caramel Truffle.

The other good thing was that it was the warmest it’s been in 6 weeks. It almost hit 70º out there and almost got up to 90º in here. The heat is what woke me up. Then when I saw that it was just after 3:00 and the fucking propane guy still hadn’t come, I was too pissed to go back to sleep for a few hours. There’s always a problem with this company. Always! Tom agrees he’s had enough too, as 4 out of the 5 times we’ve called them out there’s been a problem. Usually, it’s a gas leak, but this time around the retard in the office screwed up with telling the delivery guy how much propane he’d need for the day’s deliveries, so we and a few others have been put off till morning. I gotta see someone show up to believe it!

Meanwhile, Tom found a company that will come out at scheduled intervals and keep your tank topped off, then send you a bill like a regular utility service, which I’d definitely prefer as opposed to this call-us-when-you-need-us bullshit in which you have to wait days for anyone to show up. We’re going to look into this, but hopefully we won’t need to for 6 weeks. At that point, if we fill the tank up completely, it should last the rest of the year, should we have the luxury of surviving it in the first place.

Speaking of which, the heat just came on for the first time in nearly 18 hours, so by some miracle, we do still have propane, even though the gage says we shouldn’t (ah, finally a liar of a good kind). Had we been up in Oregon (although they use heating oil there and not propane) we’d have run dry before the weekend even hit.

Tom could take the 5-gallon propane tank that’s in the shed that we used on the land up in Oregon and get us some propane if need be, but I sure hope he won’t have to. The guy has enough shit to do!

We’ve been keeping the living room at 65º and using the portable heater in the bedroom to help boost it up to 72º. After we finally do get propane, we’ll put the portable away and reset the main heater at 70º, where it’s usually at.

I did the dishes I had soaking in the sink for the last two days, but am putting off my shower for now. I haven’t worked out either, so I don’t get all sweaty. For now, I’ve freshened up with wet wipes. The dishes consisted mostly of mugs and silverware than anything else.

Of course I started to get mad at God and was like, “You mean to tell me you can answer the prayers of millions of bigots who prayed that you let Prop 8 pass so they could legally discriminate against gays, but you won’t let us have our damn propane?!?!”

But if they come before we run out, then He will have answered my prayers, and so it’s too soon to jump down His throat.

Getting propane isn’t my biggest concern. My biggest concern is the usual bullshit and that’s wondering if we’re going to make it. I hate living on the edge like this and wondering each month if we’re going to be able to pay the rent! It’s like this is our true calling in life; to struggle as if we were lazy bums who just sat around on our asses day in and day out. I’m sick of struggling to get ahead just to get kicked back!

If his program doesn’t work out and no one gives him a job, we can only last so many more months. As it is I don’t know if we can make February’s rent without having to work at it, but I’m tired of having to “work at it!” Especially to the degree that we have been lately. And all for a guy who doesn’t need the money. It’s just no way to live. I’m tired of fighting to survive with a few months off here and there. Yet Tom’s always been so naively optimistic that I’m afraid he’s just being overconfident and just kidding himself where the program’s concerned. Either that or cruelly teased from above. Seriously, though, I never met anyone this old that was this confident! Usually, we grow out of that in our 20s as by then we realize that no, we can’t necessarily do whatever we want in life. Not even if we put our minds to it, have a positive attitude, and take all the necessary steps within our means to achieve our goals and dreams. So despite the many hours of work he’s put into the program, and despite how knowledgeable he is with numbers and horseracing, I don’t see how it could work out simply because it’s what we want, and most people just don’t get what they want in life, like it or not. Also, if I’m right about a lifelong money curse being on us, then nothing we do would generate it no matter how smart we were and no matter how hard we slaved our asses off. People want to believe they’re in the driver’s seat of their lives because it’s scary to admit otherwise, and in some ways we are. However, in most ways, it comes down to fate. People also say that we all just have to make the best of whatever life hands us. Well, I don’t see how I could “make the best” of life on the streets if that’s what we’re going to be handed.

As for the dogs, they went on a couple of barking fits for a few minutes, and he heard the motorcycle too, but nothing major. Yeah, I knew Mr. Harley Man up there wasn’t working by the time 8:00 rolled around and it was still quiet. It wouldn’t surprise me if the barking escalated once I got more onto days.

MONDAY, JANUARY 12, 2009 And now one of the Staceys is gone, too. Weird. Just weird. I never would’ve contacted them again as it only took one message to send the link and I never expected a reply, but hey, they’re the ones putting themselves out by denying their accounts, freaked out over the story/journals or not.

It’s strange how one can harbor so much anger and hatred for no apparent reason, and even after all these years, too. Some people really never change.

It still cracks me up when I picture her reading certain things (if she has), but it’s my journal, so I will write what I want. She doesn’t have to read it either. I only gave her that choice by sending the link, same as Tammy.

Not much going on. Sherri, the OLSer who told me she read my journal, PM’d me today thrilled that she got mentioned in my journal (sort of). I was like, wow, I didn’t know she was still reading new entries as they came in. Cool! She said it didn’t take long to read as she is a speed reader.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 11, 2009 Now this is funny! Definitely not something I’ll post online any more than I did the first time I mentioned contacting Stacey or anyone associated with her. Hanna’s gone. I mean totally gone from Facebook altogether. Could I really be the reason? I mean, that’s a little extreme, isn’t it? Why not just block me? Why disappear altogether? But she must’ve deactivated because I would think that I’d still be able to look her up even if she blocked me. All a block should do is keep a user from sending you messages or trying to befriend you. Yet it’s as if Hanna S never existed on Facebook! All that because of me? The journals and stories must’ve really freaked Stacey out. Would a person learning that they’re a character in a story written by someone they once knew really freak them out that much, even if it was written by someone they disliked? Maybe so. Especially since I killed her off in the end! LOL, but it’s just a story. I’d be shocked and maybe feel a bit weird about it too, but that’s about it so long as my real name and address weren’t used. Actually, they could use my name, so long as it wasn’t connected to my address in any way. I altered her name and address in the book.

I still can’t believe Hanna deactivated! It was no doubt per orders of Stacey, although I never would’ve contacted her or any other S again as there wouldn’t have been any reason to after the link was sent to all the Ss I could find in the Phoenix area. I only went to study her picture again out of curiosity to see if I would be more or less convinced there could be a relationship. If I hadn’t, I’d never have known she was gone.

Also out of curiosity, I went and checked, and the two Stacey and James are still there, but I don’t know if it’s them.

I wonder if Stacey read the entire story or any of the journals. Once again, that’s as hard to guess as is the possibility of my parents reading it, but for different reasons. As with my folks, she could be naturally curious to see what’s been said about her. On the other hand, if she’s still harboring this strange hatred for me for whatever reason, she may be freaked out and disgusted to read it. When someone’s sure they don’t want anything to do with you, usually that would include your journals and stories. Stacey definitely hasn’t changed a bit. I mean, by now I would have thought she’d have gotten over whatever it was that I supposedly did to make her dislike me so much other than pull pranks on those who were harassing me.

Of course, thanks to the black bitch I start to get a little paranoid, and Stacey strikes me as the type to go to the pigs about this, too. But I know I didn’t do anything wrong. I never wrote: I’m going to hunt down and kill Stacey S, then published it online or sent that in the mail to her. And all the cop connections in the world, if she has any, couldn’t do a damn thing to make it look like I did anything wrong, so I will laugh instead of worry. I didn’t mean to shock or confuse the kid, but the idea of Stacey finding out about journals and stories is funny. Whether or not she reads any of it, I’ll never know.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 10, 2009 I still don’t know if the propane will last till they refill us on Monday, but we’re on a winning streak! Day one has brought us a small profit which was within an inch of being a fairly good size profit had it not been for some unusual circumstances to arise. As long as it’s still ahead this time next weekend. That’s what matters more than what happens along the way.

Another baby products win! And it’s all stuff I could use myself, so that’s nice. Lotion, shampoo, conditioner, bubble bath.

I got up at 6 PM again and the dogs were going off, then stopped a few minutes later. Tom said he swears they sense when I get up and my hatred for them because it had been quiet all day till right before I got up, just like the last few times. I believe this, too!

FRIDAY, JANUARY 9, 2009 Got up at 6 PM. Tom said that the dogs were quiet all day, but must sense when I’m getting up because a half-hour earlier, they went off for 15 minutes, then Jesse returned on the motorcycle right as I was getting up. I reminded him that the dog curse is on me. Yup, I’m the one who brought the noise curse into this relationship!

I’m now down to 132 pounds. The 120s are now within my reach! I’ve settled into a comfortable exercise routine where I run 15 minutes a day which is about a mile. Many sites recommend 30-60 minutes of exercise a day, but a recent study shows that just 10 minutes a day is all you really need. Well, it works for me! Most of the weight loss, though, comes from having around 1000 calories a day.

Patches was telling me about lupus which she has and the symptoms that go with it and how she’s had chemo treatments and all that. Unless she’s making it up just for attention, which doesn’t seem to be the case, it sure is one nasty disease to live with, but most cases are manageable from what I’ve read.

And I still have this little lump in the lower side of my left breast, towards my arm. I first noticed it back in the motel. But it hasn’t grown and most lumps aren’t cancerous, so I’m not worried about it. I have no bad vibes, and even if I did, I’m not insured right now so there’s nothing I can do about it. And who knows when and if I ever will be again?

Patches is the one that told me to write the number 8 down on a piece of paper and put it in a wallet or leave it around the house as it will generate money. Tom put it in his wallet. I won the $75 so far, even if we have to wait a few weeks for it, so hopefully it will help with other things, too.

Tomorrow’s the big day as Tom feels he’s done enough testing. Once again, though, we won’t know anything concrete for a week.

So we’re not only hoping for the best where his program is concerned but also that the propane will make it till Monday and that nothing delays them from getting out here. To help ensure that it lasts, we’re showering every other day instead of every day. I hate this shit, though, I really do! I’m sick of the poor spells! I really am. If this program doesn’t work then there’s a damn good chance we’ll be dirt poor all our lives as there’s just so little chance of me winning big, and his age will probably keep him from making good money at some job somewhere if anyone ever gives him one again.

I sent Tammy a message on Facebook asking that she wish Lisa a happy birthday for me when it’s time. She hasn’t replied. I don’t know how often she checks her mail, but I do appreciate not hearing back from her as I don’t want to discuss it, I just want to wish Lisa a happy birthday.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 8, 2009 So far we’ve received 1 out of 3 wishes, and so yes, we got our check today. We then got groceries which cost a fortune since most of it was non-edibles that we needed.

Tom called the propane company today and while they said they’d try to get out tomorrow, it’s unlikely that they’ll make it. So we’re on for Monday and hoping that wish #2 is granted and that we don’t run out before they get here.

Wish #3 will begin on Saturday. Yup, that’s when the program will be raced for real and no longer just a test. Tom feels confident that after a month of extensive testing, we shouldn’t make much at first, but then we should gradually build up. But the more it builds, the faster it’ll happen. I hope to hell it really does work if only because he’s been working 12-15 hours a day at it!

I’ll admit that while Tom assures me the program will work and that we’re in an entirely different situation than the last time it failed us because he’s not under the kind of pressure he was at the motel, it’s still scary having to rely on something that’s never worked for us before just to pay the rent. We could sell a few more collectibles I don’t really care for all that much, but we can only sell and pawn so much, you know? I sure hope to hell he’s right because if he’s not, chances are excellent that we’ll be pawning our lives away, dirt poor till the day we die, for my chances of winning big aren’t that great, and his chances of making money at some job isn’t that great either due to his age.

When I asked Tom why he’s so sure that this is it as far as his program goes, he said because he’s never done such extensive testing on it before. Before we were under so much more pressure and we jumped the gun, thus causing it to fail.

Being laid off certainly does give a person more time to fiddle with things, that’s for sure.

But I see a number of things that could go wrong and how easily we could end up pushed onto the streets if he’s wrong, not that we wouldn’t kill ourselves first. He assures me that worst-case scenario we’re 5 days late with the rent, and there’s no way Jesse’s going to evict us by the 5th. But then what about next month? And the month after that? What if he never finds a job? What if the government doesn’t extend his unemployment even though he says they definitely would if there still aren’t any jobs?

I don’t want to spend the rest of our lives fighting tooth and nail just for the bare necessities! I’m sick of struggling to survive! And I’m tired of being in pain too, never able to get to a dentist.

To help ease my worries, Tom just came in and showed and explained to me that the test results of the last week alone show that a few bucks would’ve profited over $100. Playing a bit more aggressively would’ve made over a grand.

Well, we’ll try our best and then the rest is up to fate. Trying our best is really all we can do. I soooo do hope my prayers and spells will help it work out! It has to. It just has to! But as he pointed out, a day isn’t going to tell us much as opposed to a whole week.

Jesse was home all day, so the dogs were quiet.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 7, 2009 I left a note on my Facebook wall for Tammy to wish Lisa a happy birthday on the 20th, but haven’t decided if I want to send her a message yet. Again, do I want history to repeat itself? Do I want to deal with her trying to push me into religion? Do I want to deal with her eventually trying to get me to visit? Do I want to deal with her begging for money should we end up having any? Do I want to deal with her being a hypochondriac, the family drama, etc.? Do I even care about these people in the first place? I’m still not sure I do for if I did, wouldn’t I then be able to forgive her for unknowingly leading me to jail and the letter/call to Tom?

I still have a few days to consider sending the message, since I doubt she’d know I reactivated and updated my profile unless she’s reading my journal which I also doubt. I just don’t want to send the wrong idea in wishing Lisa a happy birthday and get her thinking I’m ready to go back to regular communications with her as I am not. Perhaps I can meet her halfway, though, and instead of never communicating or communicating regularly, we can say hi on holidays and birthdays and things like that.

Thanks to Tammy – yes, it’s only because of her that I’ve been checking out Facebook more in-depth – I was amazed at the people I found in various states. I don’t know that they’re really the people I once knew, but nonetheless, I found it a coincidence that not only was there a Stacey S listed, but a James and Hanna as well. James is her husband from what my research at a couple of other sites showed, and I think Hanna’s her daughter. That name is always connected with Stacey and James, and so that’s why I think it could be her. The daughter would be about 15 now, old enough for a Facebook account with a parent or guardian’s permission.

Anyway, Hanna had a picture with a friend, and of course I couldn’t say for sure whether or not it’s really Stacey’s daughter. I guess there could be a resemblance, and the age does seem right. Stacey and James, however, list no pictures. I couldn’t resist sending them my journal link and thanking Stacey for inspiring one of my stories! LOL

Tom’s brother David was also listed, and there was a Lisa G, along with a Jennifer O, Mary C, and probably a few others I’m forgetting to mention. The only one of these that included a picture was Jennifer. It was very small and I couldn’t see her face, but the body type and coloring suggested it could be her. I didn’t send these people my journal link, but I sent some a friend request, and so if they check my profile page out of curiosity, they’ll see the link.

So now I’ve lost track of how many people I’ve personally known that may have access to my journal! Ha, ha, ha, ha! I don’t know why, but it’s just such a funny thought to me!

Now I just have to hope the following 3 things happen: 1. We get our check tomorrow. 2. We don’t run out of propane before we can get them out here (this time around we’re going to get 100 gallons rather than $100). 3. The program really works as it sure seems to in testing!

I’m so sick of the incompetence on Kiwi! I don’t get my survey points unless I beg for them, and now the prizes they assured me were sent last week, won’t be sent till the end of this week! Argh!

The dogs, like yesterday, waited for me to get up before going off, but there haven’t been any hour-long barking sprees that we know of. That probably won’t happen till I’m on days again with my shit luck. It’s strange that he’s there during the daytime lately but gone in the evenings.

Later…

It’s her. It’s definitely Stacey’s daughter. I didn’t think to check their friend list till just now to see if that’d give me any clues. Well, James has no friends and Stacey only has 4, none of which say they’re in Phoenix. Two are in Australia and the others don’t say where they are. But Hanna has dozens of friends, most of whom happen to be from Phoenix. Now that’s no coincidence! As with some members, I couldn’t view her profile or wall.

So assuming she’s still an active member, she’ll pass the message on to Stacey, if the Stacey and James I sent messages to weren’t the right ones and never got their own messages.

Thanks, Tammy. You finally did me a favor!

Once again, blacks have shown just how childish, unfair and violent they can be down in Oakland. I’m the first one to agree that corrupt cops are showing up more and more and need to be brought to justice. I also agree that they have a right to be angry that one of their “brothers” was shot in the back while lying face-down by a crooked cop. But to riot and take their anger out on innocent victims is totally wrong.

Why is it that when gays have demonstrations, they just have demonstrations, but when the blacks do, they go psycho? Yet people continue to cater to blacks and walk all over gays. Hmmm… what’s wrong with that picture?

There’s been a mystery roar detected in space that’s way interesting. Galaxies can emit a static hiss, but this roar is something new and no one knows what causes it. I wish I could travel to infinity and explore deep into the cosmos! It seems totally reasonable to assume that there is other intelligent life out there, but why haven’t we found each other? Tom thinks it’s cuz of the distance. Another great mystery to ponder, huh? Maybe in the afterlife, we are sent to other galaxies. After all, the afterlife has to be conducted somewhere, doesn’t it?

Thanks to so-called “role models” like Bristol Palin and Jamie Lynne Spears and their glorifying teen pregnancy, it’s no surprise the teen pregnancy rate is up again. What kind of mother “supports” their teenage knock-up like Sarah Palin did? I don’t understand how encouraging her to keep it and throw her life away before it’s even begun is being supportive. Shouldn’t she have demanded she either abort it, adopt it out or get the heck out and sink or swim on her own? Okay, so maybe abandonment wouldn’t be a good thing, but to support her makes no sense either.

This is how we end up with so much stupidity in the world. It seems to me that if you give your life up before you have a chance to grow, to learn, and to experience things, you have nothing to teach your children.

Many women in their teens and early 20s who were dumb enough not to use protection have said they wanted to “take responsibility for their mistake” by keeping the kid. I don’t get this either. To me, aborting it or giving it to a person or a couple who’s ready for a child and can afford one is taking responsibility. If you’re broke and not ready, wouldn’t that be more like punishing the child if you kept it? Why should the kid pay for your mistake?

As for Israel, I hope they kill ‘em all! At first I didn’t like the idea of them killing innocent children, but these so-called children would’ve only grown up just to be the same little terrorists.

Got a letter from Mary who says her letters may slow down because she’ll be busy over the next few months, Nathan’s going to be emailing me the link to his blog, and hopefully she’ll be able to email me herself soon.

That’d be great!

So I guess I won’t feel bad once I send the rest of my story to her because I was going to slow down too, due to the cost of stamps.

It’s still getting down into the upper 30s at night and I don’t like it at all. I miss summer!

MONDAY, JANUARY 5, 2009 Won another trip (sort of). You get to choose from several different states and countries. The problem is that I won the accommodations, but not the airfare. We may go ahead and pick the 2-night stay in Reno as that would be less than a two-hour drive. The hotel would be much fancier than the motel we were stuck at, but I don’t want to go somewhere just to go there. There’s no shopping spree or gambling credit involved, so I don’t know what we’re going to do. We have a year to decide. The Vegas package does include $1000 in gambling credit, but that’d be a 6-hour drive! I hate long drives and we don’t have our new luggage yet. Our old luggage pretty much went to hell and so we dumped it. At least I’d be going in style music-wise. I could plug the laptop or iPod right into the cigarette lighter. We checked plane tickets to Vegas and the cheapest we could get tickets, plus air/hotel transfers, would be for about $200, and this doesn’t count food. Also, the Sacramento airport isn’t that close to here. Oh, well. I still say I was on the “trip of a lifetime” between July ’07 – April ’08 and I’d rather not go anywhere but to our own home next time around! Yup, that’s looking better and better.

Another day of analyzing my Tammy feelings. My gut instinct still says not to bother. Things would be okay for a while, then someone would say or do something stupid, it would get totally blown out of proportion or misunderstood altogether, and then it would be just like old times all over again.

Sometimes I do feel a little guilty for rejecting her and I wonder if she may be crying and feeling hurt all because I can’t forgive her for something she insists she’s unaware of. And while Becky and Sarah were too young to really have developed much of a relationship, Lisa and I were close, and so I have thought of her over the years and wondered how she’s been.

But like it or not, people do change throughout the years. Their interests change, and their attitude, beliefs, opinions, and ways of doing things change. And so I am not the forgiving person I used to be. Period.

Just the fact that she denies making any calls or sending any letters, tells me she hasn’t changed at all. It’s sad too, but her problem and not mine. I could’ve made it mine by accepting her back into my life, but not wanting to give history a chance to repeat itself, I haven’t done so. That and because we’re so far away from each other and so different.

Like I said, she may’ve been clueless as to the neighbor’s shit. We didn’t even realize the extent of their obsession ourselves until it was too late. But she did send the letter to Tom at the Phoenix address right after we moved, telling him she hoped he’d get the letter forwarded to him and that she didn’t know exactly where we were but knew we were in Maricopa. Then she went on to threaten forthcoming charges for my threatening Bill and his life and to “inform” Tom that I had been in funny farms and was sending things to the house. I don’t remember her exact words and we didn’t care to save the letter, but Tom already knew about my past. Remember, I’m the one they’d chide for shamelessly spilling my life out to all that would listen! And the “things” I sent were family pictures I no longer wanted.

After the letter, she called Tom who, as he put it, just let her ramble. Then he said he told her that if we couldn’t get along, why bother having anything to do with each other then?

This was the last of the communication.

I don’t understand why she won’t admit the call and letter to Tom. I mean, what’s the big deal? I admitted my call and letter to Bill. So? It happened. We all make mistakes. We’re only human. But do I regret the call and letter? No, I do not, and I’ll be happy to admit that, too! I regret the repercussions, but that’s all I regret.

In many ways, I am the same, too. I’m still short, I still love music, I still love writing, and I still have my crazy laugh, but I don’t forgive like I used to and I sure as hell don’t forget. Should I feel differently in time, I know how to get a hold of her.

I’m glad she contacted me so I could give her my journal link, not knowing for sure if my folks gave it to her, but I also wish she never did. This way these mixed emotions wouldn’t have been stirred up like they have been.

Some say I should keep ignoring her, not just because of past conflicts but because we’ve done just fine without each other, while more say I should forgive her and move on. Well, maybe I’ll end up doing both. She may never fess up to the letter or call, but I do accept and realize that while she may or may not have called the pigs, she couldn’t have known that what she and or Bill were doing by running to the pigs would get the black welfare bums on my trail and me thrown in jail. So I may be able to forgive her for this, but not “move on,” so to speak. In other words, I can let go of the past to a degree, but I don’t know if I could ever return to regularly communicating with her. So yeah, I’m willing to let the past go for the most part as I certainly don’t hate her in any way. I’d leave people like Larry and Ronnie to sink or swim on their own, but if I were walking down the street and saw someone trying to mug Tammy or something like that, I would jump to her defense. So no, no seriously hard feelings of any kind at this point. Just a lack of desire to carry on as before.

For now, I hope she and the girls are doing well. As for Bill…sorry, but I don’t give a shit about him. Never liked him, never will. I would feel no different if he stubbed his toe as I would if he broke every bone in his body. He was a wife-beater and a child-beater and those are about the lowest on my list. And I don’t care if it was “just a slap” as opposed to a beating with a fist and so on and so forth. A beater’s a beater! And the bad childhood sob story doesn’t cut it either. My own childhood was no bowl of cherries, but I would never treat a child that way, and if I’d had a kid to which a man raised a hand, it would’ve only happened once for that man would not be alive afterward.

Got a letter from Mary. Not much happening on her end.

I was surprised when an OLSer told me she read my MD journal and found my life interesting. Yeah, really interesting! LOL. I figured some people would click the link, but what really surprised me is that while she didn’t read my stories as she likes to learn about different people from all walks of life, she read about 85% of the journal part. Both Tom and I were like – wow! That’d take all day if not more. There are over 200 entries there now and a lot of the bio chapters aren’t exactly short and sweet.

Were the dogs a problem today? Well, of course! Though it wasn’t as much of a circus as I thought it would be (probably because I slept through their prime time). Tom said there were 4 barking fits, one lasting up to 6 minutes. I heard a 5-minute barking spree myself after I got up, but there’s been nothing since 4:00.

I wish it were summer again! Not just because I hate winter, but because then they’ll probably switch back to barking more at night. Only Jesse will be there to do something about it, and there won’t be as much going on then to stir them up in the first place.

We’ve got complications where killing the dogs is concerned. Tom said Jesse’s brother was there at some point as he recognized the red pickup he drives from when they were stringing the phone wires.

After just two days of serious dieting and running (now more than a mile a day), I can get into the sports bra/tank I won! I’m no longer a large. I’m a medium now.

Got some samples in the mail, as usual, and a small win. Freezer bags with a vacuum sealer so you don’t get freezer burn.

Oh, I reactivated my Facebook account just in case I ever do win one of their prizes. If she annoys me, though I don’t think she will, I can always ignore her. This will also give me an idea as to whether or not she’s reading my journal, which I’m curious about. I accidentally “poked” her on Facebook trying to figure out what that feature was all about. Then I noted her to say that I wasn’t trying to pick on her or play with her head, but just trying to figure it out. I’m almost positive she would’ve replied to it and that’s when she’d have learned that I had deactivated the account.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 4, 2009 Huffs and puffs I ran more than a mile today! I’m hot, sweaty, and a bit tired, but I love the feeling after a long workout. After a shower, my energy will be restored. You know you worked out hard when you sweat between your fingers of all places!

I’ve done some more reflecting on the sister thing. Okay, so maybe she didn’t know about the default warrant. Hell, we didn’t know about it. But what happened still happened. And even if she’s telling the truth by saying it was Bill who called the cops, he couldn’t have told them where to go if it weren’t for her.

So I’m still okay with not forgiving her just yet and I don’t know that I ever can or will. That’s one of those things you can never know for sure. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and feel differently. Maybe I will in 5 years. Maybe 10. Maybe never. I can only take it one day at a time.

For the longest time, I’ve believed that people should never be forgiven. Not for big things anyway, even if they didn’t mean to do anything wrong, or don’t think they did. I know most people believe that forgiveness is about moving on, but to me it’s giving the person a chance to screw you again.

I deactivated my Facebook account not just to make it harder for her to contact me, but mostly because I have no interest in it.

I am grateful to Tom for supporting me as he has and for letting me know that in his opinion, there is no right or wrong feeling and that it’s okay to do what I feel is best.

Even if what happened never happened at all, why associate with someone on the other side of the country that I have absolutely nothing in common with? Looking at her as just a person and not my sister, she’s someone I’d never be friends with, and so that’s enough to tell me that we should just continue keeping to ourselves.

Do I think she’s hurt? No, probably not. Pissed? Yeah, maybe a little. But I felt it best to be honest with her and risk upsetting her in any way than lie to both of us and resume a relationship that my heart simply wouldn’t be into. I don’t hate my sister, but I don’t love her either. Nor do I feel anything for her daughters or for my brother at this point in life. Call me cold, call me cruel, call me insensitive, call me selfish, but ice princess or not, this is how I feel.

Tom said it was quiet all morning. When I got up around noon, Jesse did his strange motorcycle thing again where he started it, then stopped it. Then a few minutes later he started it again and left. I heard a few barks as he was leaving, but nothing else since. Today’s definitely like old times and I’m enjoying it immensely and glad Tom can concentrate easier than I can on his programming work as tomorrow’s going to be rocking. Fortunately, I’ll be sleeping through the worst of it where my schedule is at right now.

The program is still being tested rigorously and is still passing like crazy. We’d have won a grand the other day, so he saw. Consistency matters more than big wins, though, as consistency can multiply itself quite well. It could still be a year or two until we can buy a land/house package.

Of course it would be a lot easier just to win this mansion that came into the sweeps site the other day. It’s actually in Sonoma which isn’t too far from here. We’d sell it right away since we couldn’t afford to pay the taxes on it, but a two-million-dollar house would give us plenty of money to get something else. Besides, I wouldn’t need anything as big as a mansion would be.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 3, 2009 Decided not to bother with colors here as it’s just a real pain in the ass. I’ll leave the colors to Kiwi.

Tom said there was a lot of barking this morning from 8:30 - 11:00, but not much after that.

Tammy replied saying she thought I’d have grown up, she didn’t send any letters or call the police, Bill did, and what black neighbors?

Hmmm… not sure what having “grown up” has to do with what happened and my feelings about it, but now I have to wonder if Tammy and my parents knew as much as I thought they did about what went on with the blacks.

Another confusing thing she said was, “You have no idea about my life or kids at all, only your made-up version.”

She’s right. I don’t have any idea. And this is because we haven’t been in touch for a decade and I haven’t cared. So what made-up version could I possibly have?

I said to Tom, “It was Tammy that called the pigs, wasn’t it?”

He said yes, and I said, “Well, she’s blaming that one on Bill, though I could swear I remember the pig that came to the house using the words, “your sister.”

Then Tom pointed out that while he was under the same impression I was as far as it being Tammy who called the cops (especially since she sent a letter addressed to Tom defending her abusive husband which I threatened by mail and by phone), you can’t trust what any cop says. This is true, too. Just about every cop I’ve ever known or heard others tell me about has been nothing but a lying, conniving, manipulative bastard. You know how the laws are. We’re not allowed to lie, speed or fail to use our signal lights when turning, but they can do whatever the hell they want, legal or not. And one of the things they love to do is tell bullshit stories.

I understand that I can never know for sure who did what and why. Someone suggested Bill was afraid of me, but I know better than that. He was the kind of guy who thought he could beat anyone, especially a woman. If he called the cops he didn’t do it out of fear, he did it out of spite.

I know I could hurt Bill, and these days I could probably kick my brother’s ass, and definitely Ronnie’s. But they could never be worth the money a plane ticket would cost, even if we were rich, or the time it would take to hop a plane, hunt them down, and then do whatever to them. But I know I wouldn’t hesitate if I could possibly run into them on the streets. This is why I would never go to my parents’ funeral. Even if I could control myself, they’d certainly start shit with me and I wouldn’t be about to just stand there and take it! Haven’t I done that enough in the past? So it would make no sense to go there, beat the shit out of them, then end up in jail for assault.

Anyway, I was under the impression that my family knew about my being in jail all along, although I didn’t know if they knew exactly why. There are a zillion different ways they could’ve found out. I figured that Tom’s family, who can’t keep their mouths shut about anything, might’ve been one way. So when I first sent them letters about it from Oregon, I thought they already knew.

Maybe Tammy really didn’t call the police, but just the fact that she said I threatened my nieces in her letter to Tom and won’t own up to it, makes me more sure that not having anything to do with each other is the right thing. We all exaggerate and even lie when we’re pissed at someone, but she didn’t need to go that far. I have always adored my nieces and was heartbroken over what they had to go through on account of their parents. I don’t blame them for anything for they were just kids caught between us adults and the shit that was going on with us.

Also, if she is innocent of calling the police, she’s still guilty of informing Bill as to our general whereabouts which pointed the pigs in our direction. They split before we moved, so the only way he could’ve found out was from her. I told her about the area in a letter to her right before I let Bill have it for his treatment of her and Lisa. Of course there’s also the possibility that they tracked us down through Tom’s family.

Again, I’ll never know for sure who did what, and the past can never be changed. However, we’re not talking about her accidentally breaking one of my dolls or spilling wine on my favorite blouse or flirting with my husband. This is about me losing half a year of my life and many thousands of dollars. Those involved could pay back the money we lost, but nothing can ever replace the time we lost together or undo the stress, depression, frustration and anger I went through at the time. So whether or not Bill’s more to blame than she ever was, this is a tough one to simply up and forgive, but she’s right when she says she’ll always be my sister. And I’ll always be hers even if we never speak again. As they say, we can change who are friends are, but we can’t change who are family members are.

A few people on Kiwi said I should forgive her. After all, said Patches, you came out alive and intact and seem pretty with it.

Brianna says she sees no harm in just acting like things are fine for the sake of getting along or lack of regret later.

I can sort of see Brianna’s point when she says “for the sake of getting along or lack of regret later.” However, it’s just as easy to end up regretting accepting someone back into our lives as well. I sure as hell regretted taking Larry back! My brother has a wonderful sense of humor and my heart went out to him when he lost his son. Yet one of the first things he told me when we first spoke in 1993 after a decade of silence was, “I’m not going to get involved in any family disputes.” Well, he sure proved himself to be a regular little hypocrite in the end! He stuck his nose everywhere but in his own business, pitted certain family members against others, and so on and so forth. His emotional state at the time was not good, but this was still no excuse to make so many people miserable. In some cases, his intentions may’ve been good. In others, he seemed to use the loss of his son as an excuse to cause so much of a rift within the family.

Anyway, although I’m still not sure I could forgive Tammy, I’m still glad she contacted me, for it was a way to let her know how I felt and to give her the choice of peeking in on my life via the journal link I gave her. It keeps my parents out of it, too. As it was, I hated to involve them by asking them to send the link to her, but I didn’t know how else to get it to her. She could’ve moved a dozen times since we last spoke for all I know. I still don’t know that reading other people’s journals or short stories is her thing, but now I know she has that option.

Even if I could forgive her or if what happened had never happened, I have to ask myself: Do I really want to reunite with someone I have nothing in common with? I’m surprised she’d even want to bother with me if only because we are so different. Having never had kids to tie me down, I was able to be open to being exposed to many different experiences, my interests are totally different, and we never did see eye to eye on much. I don’t blame her for being different from me as we are who we are. And I’m pretty sure she feels the same and knows that I am who I am.

In the end, I’ve decided to do nothing for now. I need time to think about things. I just don’t know if I can trust her. Hell, I don’t even know that I can trust my own parents despite them saving our asses! Talk about having some seriously mixed emotions about certain people. So I will sit and think about it. One minute I feel myself begin to soften, to tell myself the past is history, think of the good times, let it go, move on, etc. Then I remember what I went through and the anger returns and I am too stubborn not to hold my ground.

Like she said, though, she’ll always be my sister. And I will be hers. That won’t change.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 2, 2009 I thought I was ready for sleep, but I guess I’m not quite there yet. The day turned out wonderfully quiet. We only heard the dogs for about 15 seconds at 10 PM. What sucks is knowing that tomorrow they’ll be back to barking the day away. Due to where my schedule is now, I should sleep through the worst of it. That would be the barking fit that starts just after 7:30 and lasts for an hour, sometimes longer. Then every 15-30 minutes they’ll go off from anywhere between 5-20 minutes at a time.

How does one get away from all the barking in the West??? It’s so bad here that I’ve sometimes thought about heading east where dogs are pets, allowed indoors, and made part of the family. Not tossed outside to stay 24/7 like some old, used-up piece of furniture. I don’t understand why anyone would want dogs if all they were going to do was keep them outside. Trained guard dogs, I can see, but what else would be the point in keeping them out there? To get attention? To annoy your neighbors?

Florida appeals to me, but at the same time, Tom and I both agree that the humidity would suck. Plus, Florida’s so damn crowded. There’s no acreage or real space of any kind to be had there if you’re not ready for a retirement community of some kind. I’d still like to remain in rural areas for another 20 years or so, then maybe get into a retirement community somewhere.

Tom trimmed my hair earlier, but it’s still a bit uneven. It’s not too noticeable with all the curls, so it’s okay for now. After having it between my waist and legs for two decades, it’s nice to have a break from the hassles that went with having such long hair for so long. Who knows? I may keep it short forever, although it’s not literally “short.” Guess that depends on one’s definition of the word. It’s to my shoulders. Pretty short for someone who had it as long as I did.

Tom agrees his weight is getting out of hand at 262 pounds, so he’s going to start dieting. Being laid off and home so much of the time has made it easier for him to eat more and be less active. I’m sure he’ll lose some weight. Once he makes up his mind to do something and is serious and sure he wants to do it, he usually does it.

Me, I could still stand to lose 25-35 pounds, but my problem is constant hunger. Until I can figure out a way not to be so hungry so much of the time, losing weight is going to be a challenge for me. And having such a slow metabolism doesn’t help either. So running every day alone doesn’t get the weight off. I’d have to cut down to at least 1000 calories a day and at that rate, you might as well starve cuz you’ll feel like you are anyway!

After finding a couple dozen or so typos in We’ll Meet Again Someday, along with a few missing words and sentences that I felt I could restructure better, I replaced the old copy with the new, corrected version on MD, but I’m not going to bother putting the corrected copy on Kiwi. So hopefully there are no more boo-boos to be found within it.

I decided, after all, to go through the 26 pages I began of Rainbow Dreams and see if I could make a story of it. I’m just not sure where to go with this one yet, but maybe it will come to me at some point. I usually get my ideas from dreams, believe it or not.

Still not sure what makes my journal so popular on MD, but after thinking about it I realized that there are up to 9 people that I know or have known (and this is kind of funny) that could be checking it out. My folks, Tammy, Mary, Andy, Marla, Satish, Michelle, the black bitch & pig. Plus there could be OLSers checking it out too, along with Lucinda, who told me my journal was “fascinating.” I never heard from her again after that.

Later…

Shit! The past really does come back to haunt me, doesn’t it? Now I know Tammy not only could be checking my journals out, but she is. This part is great. I like to share my thoughts, opinions and experiences. If I didn’t and if I cared what others thought of what I may have to say, I wouldn’t have an online journal set to public as opposed to private.

With sites like Facebook, MySpace, Reunion and shit like that which I had to join due to contests they were conducting, I knew it was just a matter of time before I was found by someone I didn’t want to be found by. I guess she’s still living in Connecticut. She’s a medical assistant, or so her profile says.

I still don’t think I ever could forgive her. Forgiving someone is simply asking for old cycles to repeat themselves and the last thing I need is to go through that shit all over again. She may never be able to cause me to end up in jail again, but just knowing that she did once is enough! Besides, she and I are like night and day, and she’s on one side of the country while I’m on the other side, so what’s the point of reconnecting? My friends may be far away too, but we have common interests and we don’t have the shitty history the drama queen and I have.

At first I was going to ignore her message which simply said, “This is your sister. Hope all is well,” but since I don’t always do the smartest thing, I told her no, I’m not going to tell you to go to hell or wish every bad thing in the world to happen to you, but I think it best that we continue on in silence, as silence really is golden at times. Yet I at least let her know why. I also told her I wasn’t sure she got the link to my journals and so I gave that to her too, then deleted the entry I had for her. Not sure why she’d care, but it’s up to her to do what she wants as far as reading any of my stuff. If she bugs me I could always set my journal to private.

To sum it all up, I told her that while I may’ve had fun flirting with a few of the detention officers who actually liked me too, she has no idea what half a year of missing your loved ones, your pets, eating food not fit for an animal, taking cold showers, and not getting any sleep is like, and she ought to hope she never will!

So I may not be perfect either, and the past may be the past, she may not have known what the hell she was doing, but one simple fact remains and that’s that while we may not hate each other, we don’t like each other either.

Who’s next to find me, Miss Perfect?

Her contacting me on Facebook makes me think my folks never gave her my journal link. Unless she wanted to keep her email address hidden and not have to set up her own journal account just to contact me, why didn’t she contact me from there a while ago if she had the link? And why did my parents not give her the link, if that’s truly the case? Maybe they didn’t want her to read anything I may write about them that they didn’t like and that may embarrass them? Or maybe they didn’t want her to feel hurt on account of the entry I made just for her?

I already got my first win of the year. Two gift cards for Albertson’s. One’s for $75 and the other is for $25. The only problem is that there are no Albertsons in NorCal. So Tom called their 800 number from the landline and they said to simply return them and they’ll send us a check for $75.

I also won a pouch of cinnamon crumb cake coffee that’ll make 10 cups and some candy.

I got the tank top I won from ESPN and it’s too small on me. Argh! Well, I’m not going to lose any more weight. I’m SICK of dieting! 135 may be an astronomical amount of weight for a 5-footer, but that’s okay. I hate being hungry, I’m still pretty fit and making sure I run about a mile each day.

According to the amount of time I smoked (started between ages 13-15 and quit at 31), and the number of cigarettes I smoked during that time, I’ve taken off almost 4 years of my life, according to this health site I was just at. That’s it? I would’ve thought it’d be more than that.

While I was correct in assuming we’d managed to escape the car stereos, the dog curse still lives on, although today was annoying as opposed to maddening. I think he was home today. Especially because of the rainy weather. If he was there, just letting them bark the amount that he let them bark for is enough to convince me that they need to be killed and that a note would be a waste of time. Besides, he’s said and done things in the past that indicate that he wouldn’t care to anyway. We’ve asked him to call first before coming down here yet he does it anyway, so why would he care about controlling his dogs?

Tom, who got up at 8:00, said they barked for 3 minutes. Then he heard a big diesel truck come in around 2:00 and they went off for 6 minutes, were quiet for 5, then went off again for 2 more minutes. We also hear (at least we think we do) someone else’s dogs, but aren’t sure where they are. Sound carries better at this time of year too, because the leaves have thinned out.

I just wish the owner was over 500’ away instead of almost 300’. You really have to get over 500’ before barking isn’t as much of an issue.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 1, 2009 Auburn, California, Age 43

Hopefully, 2009 will be the year we buy a land/package deal in the desert and “go home!” If not, then I hope we’ll at least be on that yellow brick road.

We watched the ball go down in Times Square as I like to do. The ball was really cool looking this year with changing colors and all that.

Last night turned out to be quieter than expected. Jesse or the houses up at the summit or both were shooting off some firecrackers on and off from just after 11:00 to right before midnight, but strangely enough, midnight was pretty quiet. I really thought we’d hear some kind of a grand finale, but nope.

The dogs ended up being quieter than expected too, since Jesse was probably getting shit-faced at some bar for the most part. There were just a few scattered barks that were a little annoying, but nothing maddening. Tomorrow’s when things will probably be maddening. I was kind of surprised the firecrackers didn’t set them off, but because they didn’t, that’s why I assumed Jesse was one of the ones setting them off. Tom said sometimes dogs don’t bark when they’re scared. Then I wish they could be scared all the time if that’s the case!

So far today it’s been cloudy and dead quiet. Tom did see his truck up there when he went to bring up the rent and trash. I’m hoping Jesse will want to stay home all day in front of the TV or something, but I know not to count on that one. I can hope, though!

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

“Ay, no need t’tell me tuwice~.” Debi-chan smirked playfully, with a devilish glint in his eyes. “I’d mo’ than lav ta tickle my bambina.” Debi-chan went on all fours as he slowly approached Shiri closer and closer. Shiri’s eyes grew wide , hands clasped by her modest yet sweetly inviting chest, and both their hearts were fluttering with excitement. The tension in the air and their passion for each other were palpable.

Then, without any warning, Debi-chan pounced on Shiri and fervently and boldly tickled her ribs and waist, straddling her.

“A! Oh my gh-kyahaha!uhahahawakh-ghaheheheh!”

Her yelps and giggles were almost instantenous, but it was so delightful to both Debi-chan’s and JujuBear’s ears.

JujuBear though, felt both adoration and glee at Shiri’s beautiful laughter and yet, he also had this bitter pain gnwaing away at his heart. A wish. No, a core need deepened its’ claws at his entire being; a need to delight his Shiri and make her feel more intense love and pleasure than Debito. He wished to be with Debi, to complete his newfound part as a soldier in Shiri’s tickle army.).

Debi-chan, unaware of Jumin’s emotions as he greedily took in more and more of Shiri’s delightful responses, tickled Shiri’s bare feet as he straddled her and her laughter was now mixed with tears of joy 💗

JujuBear couldn’t take it anymore. JujuBear took his position behind Shiri’s head, cradling the back of her head as he stood on his knees, looking possessively and passionately down at her. “I love you, Shiri. More than anything in the world.” And kissed both her cheeks, her forehead and then. Lips.

“Ah. I see. Jealous, are wieh?” Debi-chan sneered, looking at Juju with a knowing eye. “Well, can’t blame ya. Shiri’s like a sparkling jewel ya wanna stwheal n stare at fo’eva. To trweashure an’ cherwish.”

“Yea. Shiri’s our most precious angel. And I will not let you take away all of her heart and attention, Debi. Shiri’s not just yours, so you better learn your manners, gunner.” Jumin poisonously worded, hugging Shiri’s elegant yet soft torso to him as he eyed Debi straight in the eye.

“Hgeh. Gunner. How simplistic. But better truthful, wild and free than calculated, cold and cunning.”

“What was that, killer?” Jumin seethed at the provocation, glaring hatefully at Debi.

“Whoah whoah! Guys, please! There’s no need to fight with dirty hateful words towards each other!” Shiri instantly felt the need to create a peaceful ground between her two lovers, feeling their sharp poisonous spikes attacking one another’s hearts.

“Um. I think both JujuBear and Debi-chan are precious and lovable as you are.”

“JujuBear learned how to be more cautious, intelligent, mindful and careful with others in his life because of his past. People tried to manipulate and take advantage of him for his looks, wealth and fame.”

“And Debi-chan had to learn how to viciously fight for what’s right and what’s important to him. He had to fend off for himself and his brothers since his parents’ deaths when he was just a kid.”

“…Not to mention that he lost his siblings too. I can’t imagine how painfully heartbreaking it must’ve been for him”

“I believe mutual understanding and friendship, a sense of camaraderie could heal your conflicts with each other!”

“Now! Let’s cuddle it out all three of us. I believe my precious beloveds deserve kisses of love and healing! 😊🍯”

Jumin and Debi-chan eyed each other and sighed.

“A’iight, Amore.”

“Hauh..If you say so, love..”

They both resignedly comforting their previously peeved hearts with Shiri’s comforting calls for peace.

Hugging the two, they repositioned themselves. Shiri was sandwiched by her two lovers. One hand caressing Debi’s cheek behind her, and one on Juju’s cheek in front of her. “You two are my home, my wild ride through this beautiful, colorfully painful and sweet lives together. I cannot imagine myself without you two. So please, learn to get along with each other..okay?”

“But. I’m quite the jealous lover too so..”

Shiri trailed off, eyes lowering their gaze awkwardly and bitterly to the ground.

“Oh? Our Bambina is worried we’d fall for ohne an nuthah n leave ya be’iind? Please, Shiri, Mi Amore. I’d never choose anyone othah than ya.”

“I must confess the same. I’d never find it in my heart to fall in love with anyone else other than you, my Angel Shiri.”

Jumin and Debi’s eyes then both met and in an unspoken resolution they both mutually decided to reach out and kiss Shiri’s cheeks and neck on opposite sides.

Melting their beloved with affection and drunkenness of heartgoo-eingly kisses, delivering all three of them to their private heaven; their hearts emotionally soaring above like doves and crows, harmoniously and with such tenderness, gentleness and freedom.

[lythea-creation]

Broken Toys - Johanna Mason x fem reader (Chapter 24)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

word count: 2.582

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“Hey, (f/n). Finally you're awake. Took you long enough”, I heard a soft, familiar chuckle.

“Rue?”, I whispered in disbelief.

I opened my eyes and saw her sitting on her bed smiling at me.

I pulled the comfortable blanket off of me and sat up.

We were in our room back in district 11, victor's village.

“What are we doing here?”, I wondered.

“What do you mean? This is our home now. Aren't we supposed to be here?”

I hesitated for a moment. “But Rue. You're … dead.”

She looked at me concerned. “Did you have that nightmare again? Don't worry. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere”, she reassured me.

I stumbled to my feet and enclosed her in a tight embrace. Breathing was feeling impossible right now out of pure relief.

Had it really just been a dream? Another cruel nightmare? I could not quite believe that, but I desperately wanted to.

Rue took my hand and pulled me with her. “Come on! You promised me to climb onto the trees and eat some fruits!”

On the way through the house I noticed unusual silence.

“Rue? Where are Mary and the kids?”

“Visiting somebody I don't know. I volunteered to stay here and look out for you. Just in case you get a panic attack again.”

We skillfully climbed onto a plum tree and Rue picked each of us one.

She handed me mine and bit into hers with a bright smile.

“Delicious!”, she exclaimed happily. “Aren't you going to eat?”, she questioned, her eyes wandering down to the untouched fruit in my hand.

“Rue, you hate plums”, I recalled.

“Do I?”, she replied confused.

“Yeah. When you tried one you couldn't even swallow it.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Seems like I changed my mind.”

“This isn't real, is it? We're not in district 11 and you're not ...”, I could not finish my sentence.

“Why are you so strange since you woke up? Has the nightmare been so terrible?”, she asked worried again.

“No. Stop! Stop it, Rue! I know you aren't alive anymore”, I mumbled, starting to get a headache.

“What are you talking about? I'm right here!”

She was looking at me as if I was insane. Like the others had looked at Johanna in the arena when she had provocatively challenged Snow.

“Where's Johanna?”, I questioned.

“In district 7 of course.”

“What about Seeder?”

“I don't know. I haven't seen her today.”

I jumped down the tree and left victor's village.

“Where are you going?”, Rue called after me.

I just kept walking without giving her an answer.

I froze in place when I saw the rest of the district. It was completely abandoned.

I thrashed around toward Rue who was looking upset now.

“Stop playing with me! What is all of this about?”, I growled at her as an immense pain settled inside my chest again.

“What's gotten into you?”, Rue seemed scared.

My lovely, little Rue scared of me?

“My mind is messing with me, isn't it? Am I dreaming or dead?”

Her gaze switched from scared to sad.

“That's up to you”, she admitted.

I took a step back. “Up to me?”

“It depends. Do you want to go back? You could also stay here with me. We could do everything we want without having to fear any consequences. We could be free. Together.”

I sank to the ground as my feet refused to support me any longer. Tears were blurring my sight.

“You can't do this to me, Rue”, I whispered. “If I can go back, then I don't have a choice. I promised Johanna to return and I haven't kept my promise to you yet. Panem isn't free as long as people like Snow and Coin manage to have power.”

My little sister smiled at me. “I didn't expect any less. But don't worry. I'll be waiting for you and hope it'll take a while until our reunion.”

The sunlight intensified taking my vision from me.

A few seconds later I noticed that it had been the lights of an unfamiliar room blinding me, a hospital room.

I was feeling light-headed, but no pain. The morphling was dripping into my body steadily.

Johanna? Was she really standing next to me?

She had immediately jumped up and was yelling something, her gestures wild and furious.

What was she saying?

Her hair had grown a lot since I had last seen her. Now I could actually call it hair again and not just bristle.

Was all of this real now or was I still dreaming? I could not differentiate it anymore.

Why was it so silent? It was making me tired …

“Finally you're awake again!”, I heard Johanna's voice when I opened my eyes again.

Confusion filled me. How many times had I woken up? What had been a dream and what had been reality?

“Jo ...”, I uttered with a hoarse voice.

“So you hear me?”, she questioned.

I nodded uneasily.

I wanted to say something else, but my throat was hurting badly.

Carefully I sat up and took the glass of water standing on the small table beside my bed. But it slipped out of my hand and Johanna caught it just in time.

Since when was a glass of water so heavy?

“Take it easy. You'll get your scolding later”, Johanna promised and helped me drinking.

I would have never imagined her in such a position. It did not suit her, but that made me appreciate her behavior even more.

“What happened?”, I wondered.

Johanna took a deep breath. “You were in the Capitol and accompanied Katniss on the way toward Snow, remember?”

I simply nodded.

“You were hit by an explosion that almost killed you. Didn't I tell you not to be reckless?! And Finnick told me everything! I don't even know where to start …!”

I weakly put my hand over hers. “Didn't you say the scolding would follow later?”, I reminded her with a smile.

She growled in frustration and gently took my hand.

“What's my state?”

“Actually, they've barely been able to save your right leg and you lost your hearing. It's artificial now.”

That shocked me. Honestly I was not noticing a difference.

“So I did wake up before?”, I reassured.

“Yeah. I was scolding you for being so fucking reckless, but you just passed out again without any reaction.”

Maybe I could be grateful for the temporary loss of my hearing as Johanna had apparently calmed down by now.

Suddenly an image flashed into my mind. Katniss, Prim, me and the explosion.

“What about the others? Finnick, Peeta, Gale, Cressida, Pollux, Katniss, Prim. Are they alright?”

“Katniss woke up a few days ago. She's been in a similar state as you. Prim didn't make it.”

The explosion resounded in my ears. When was all of this finally going to stop? I could not take it anymore!

In my mind several images of Prim replayed. And at one point they started overlapping with Rue's until I saw a world where they had been friends. It felt suffocating.

“Stop it”, I whined.

“Please stop!”, I cried out putting my hands over my ears as if I could shut out my own mind.

The smell of pine needles got me back to reality.

I was resting in Johanna's arms who was holding the bundle she had gotten from Katniss inside her hand.

When my eyes met hers I recognized that she was still overwhelmed with comforting me, but honestly she was doing great. I wished I could just stay here in this safe haven forever, but life was not that easy.

“I have to see Katniss.”

“No way! You're both too weak for that right now”, Johanna declined.

Maybe she was right about that. I was feeling utterly exhausted, like each movement was using up all my energy.

For the next days Johanna insisted that I fully concentrated on my recovery. No one was allowed to see me before I had rested properly.

Burn wounds were covering my whole body and if the exhaustion did not make me feel dizzy, the morphling was taking over that task.

Slowly I learned walking again. At first I had not been able to walk without Johanna's support, but I improved quickly. I exhausted myself as much as possible to stop myself from thinking, which was easy as I had almost no energy left.

After countless days Finnick and Annie visited me.

“Hey, (f/n)”, they greeted me with a smile.

Thankfully they did not bother to ask me how I was feeling.

In the meantime Johanna watched them carefully.

“Is your child alright?”, I wondered.

“Yeah, he's growing healthily”, Finnick ensured.

“Wait! He?”

“Yes. We're getting a little boy”, Annie announced happily.

It was relieving to see and hear something positive after everything else had appeared to break down.

Suddenly Annie took my hand, tears visible in her eyes.

I heard Johanna moving on her chair, but she did not interject.

“Thank you so much”, Annie whispered. “Finnick told me what you did. I can never make up for it, but I want you to know how grateful I am.”

I smiled reassuringly at her. “I just saved a friend and ally. I'd have never forgiven myself if I hadn't tried.”

Annie hugged me and Finnick joined in while pulling Johanna toward us.

“What the hell?”, Johanna exclaimed, but did not seriously resist.

Would now finally come the time where we could be friends without having to fear to threaten each other? Without having to fear the next misery coming over us?

It took a while until I was dismissed from the hospital.

Johanna and I moved into an old victor's apartment as we wanted to wait for Snow's execution, before going … where? We had not talked about that yet. About our future at all. Most likely because having a future had always been something unpredictable as a victor.

Honestly there were more important matters for me right now as Panem was still not free. My promise had not been fulfilled yet.

Several days later Johanna and I were called to Snow's palace where Katniss was living at the moment.

I had not seen her since the explosion and I was anxious about it. I had not wanted Katniss and me to know how the other had been feeling due to Rue's death. But now we had switched roles.

How was I supposed to look her in the eye? Prim had been in my reach and yet she had died and I had survived. Though my worries seemed to be meaningless right now as I did not get a chance to speak to Katniss in private.

When we arrived the other victors were placed around a conference table.

Katniss arrived last.

Seeder was not here. Did that mean …?

“What's up here?”, Katniss wondered.

“We dunno”, Haymitch responded. “Seems to be a gathering of the remaining victors.”

“Only we are left?”, Katniss exclaimed surprised.

“The price of fame”, Beetee declared. “Both sides shot at us. The Capitol killed the victors it considered rebels and the other way around.”

“And what is she doing here then?” Johanna glared at Enobaria.

“She's protected by something we call the mockingjay deal”, Coin explained while entering the room. “Katniss Everdeen agreed to be the mockingjay in exchange for impunity of the captured victors. Katniss kept her part of the deal, so we are keeping ours.”

Enobaria smiled provocatively at Johanna. Did she have a death wish after all?

“Don't think too much of it. We're going to kill you anyway”, Johanna grumbled at Enobaria.

“I asked you to come here to talk with you about something”, Coin announced bluntly as always. “Today we will execute Snow. During the last weeks hundreds of his allies have gotten their verdict, now waiting for their execution as well. But the suffering in the districts has been so great that many think that the death of those allies wouldn't be enough. They want all Capitol citizens to die. But of course we cannot agree to that. But there is an alternative.

As my colleagues and I cannot find collective solution, we decided to let you, the victors, decide. The majority has to vote for it to accept it. The suggestion is: Instead of annihilating the whole population of the Capitol, we will hold symbolic Hunger Games for a last time with the children, nephew's, niece's and grandchildren of those who had the most power.”

Shock and disbelief filled the room.

“What?”, Johanna was the first to speak.

“We will hold Hunger Games one more time with the Capitol's children”, Coin repeated.

“Are you kidding?”, Peeta exclaimed.

“Of course not. There's one thing left: If you decide for it, it will be published that you voted for it, although just commonly and not which victor decided for what to guarantee your safety”, Coin added.

“Was that Plutarch's idea?”, Haymitch questioned.

“It was mine”, Coin clarified. “It seems like a good compromise between the wish for revenge and the loss of as few lives as possible. You can vote now.”

My intuition had been right the whole time. What was great about switching from Snow to Coin? This idea just clarified that she was not any better than Snow.

The Hunger Games had to stop! Revenge would only lead to more revenge! It was an endless circle of hate and suffering.

“No!”, Peeta burst out. “Of course I vote with no! There shouldn't be more Hunger Games!”

“Actually why not?”, Johanna shot back. “I think it's just fair. Snow has a granddaughter after all. I vote with yes.”

“Me too”, Enobaria agreed almost uninterested. “Let's make them pay.”

“But that's exactly what we fought against! Don't you remember?”, Peeta interjected.

“Peeta's right. We fought to change something, not to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. I vote with no”, Finnick resonated.

“Me too. We out of all people know how it is to participate in the Hunger Games. How could we wish that onto anyone?”, Annie added getting Beetee's approval.

“Then it's up to you three. (f/n), Haymitch, Katniss”, Coin addressed us.

Everything inside of me screamed to vote with no. But something stopped me. The fact that Katniss out of all people had not uttered a word yet.

“I vote with yes … for Prim”, Katniss proclaimed.

Did she know that Coin had actually killed Prim and almost us too? I could not imagine Katniss to vote for more Hunger Games without a greater meaning behind it. She had been furious when Gale had lost himself over revenge. And she would never taint Prim with the blood of innocent children for her selfish wish for revenge either.

It did not make any sense. There had to be another reason.

Haymitch seemed to have the same realization as he was eyeing Katniss thoroughly. “I follow the mockingjay”, he finally stated beside Peeta's protests.

Everyone was looking anxiously at me. My vote would decide over it: “Me too.”

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

Next Chapter

[harrison-abbott]

A Type of Awe

My elder brother was attacked very badly outside of the supermarket, one summer afternoon when I was very young. Well, I was nine, and the thumping violence of seeing my brother have his face kicked apart was sublime and changed my life forevermore.

We went back into the supermarket after the other boy had finished and somebody called the police. The shoppers looked at my teary face and my brother’s bloody face with a confused type of awe.

Nothing happened to the boy who beat up my brother. For the simple reason that he was too young. I remember going to the hospital in the police car: and we saw the gang of youths, including the boy who had committed the assault, walking down the main road, and they all nervously glanced at the vehicle as it passed.

Violence didn’t stop there. That was only the start of it.

Somebody else – some stupid lad, who in this case was only being thick rather than abusive – broke my twin brother’s nose in the playground at school. Seeing my twin brother crying just made me snap. And so I ran after the kid who did it and beat the f*ck out of him as best as I could. He didn’t retaliate. I was upset for hours, because it had reconjured the memories of my elder brother getting battered. And afterwards I heard the other kids making fun of me because I was crying, as well, and they didn’t understand the history.

Fastforward a few years. I was walking up to the newsagent. My high school had the day off; whereas the other high school was still on. And I met a pair of lads from the other school. They yelled something at me and I yelled something back. And then one of them ran after me. He was bigger, taller. Both of them ran after me, actually, now I remember: and one of them just smacked me in the temple. For no reason. It was a mighty, stinging smack on the side of the head. And I just, like before, started bawling.

No police were called that time because the lads just ran off.

And then there was the incident when I was around fourteen when the super ugly kid (he looked like the Sid character from Toy Story (1995)) came and headbutted me and punched me. Also for no reason. We did call the police about that, that time, and the police weren’t allowed to go into his house because he was underage, and his parents weren’t home. Which made me wonder what the police officers were even for.

And then there was a kid in high school who I had never met before who rugby tackled me over on the field behind the school at lunch time. Also without provocation. Then his mates teased me relentlessly because there was a sense of threat that I had ‘been in a fight with him’ – when the reality was only clumsiness and boyish disorder.

There was a boy who threw a rock at me along the street when I was walking up to the bus stop. Him and his friend were smoking in the trees by the roadside, and I had my headphones in. And so I didn’t know they were there and when I saw them lurking in the trees, I got a fright. As one does when something is unexpected: and I said, “Oh, shit.” And walked on. And twenty yards down the road I heard something trickling at my feet: and turned and there was a lad glaring at me, having just lobbed the boulder.

The incidents began to pile up, and I grew angrier and angrier.

A group of bullies in the above year accused my friend and I of stealing beer at a party. We hadn’t stolen anything. But for some reason the main accuser developed a grudge against me from that night onwards; I’d see him scowling at me whenever he got the chance, if we happened to pass each other in the playground or whatnot. This was when I was older, in the latter teens. And it culminated – the feud – one night when he and his mates spotted me on the street out in the provincial town.

He kept circling me with his car. Then waited ominously at the end of the road and revved up, as if to run me over. And then he sped up and narrowly missed me. I snapped. Finally. And threw a brick at their car. All three of them got out. Three on one. So I went up and punched one of them. They knocked me over and kicked me in the head and punched me in the face.

I went to his house the next week and embarrassed him in front of his mother. And he was very determined to see me leave him alone.

Oh, and then there was the man from up the road who thundered out of his house and punched me in the face and pulled my hair, after I kicked a football at his window. When I was in my teens, and he must’ve been in his forties. Was, in his 40s. He remains the oldest person to ever have attacked me. And I’ve written before on this blog about what I did to him in retaliation.

And then when I was 20 years old, I got jumped by a pair of bouncers outside of a nightclub. Two minutes after all my friends walked away from me as if they didn’t know who I was. The bouncers got away with it. The friends never apologised for their abandonment, and in fact they said I “deserved” the assault. And I responded by relinquishing their ‘friendship’ and severing ties with them.

There are several other violent incidents from the past.

I grew up very, very damaged by each of them, all of them.

Perhaps the only good thing that came out of all of this darkness was an artistic momentum. Because I chose to respond artistically, rather than anything else.

I wanted to be a writer ever since I was a kid; and before any of such violence happened. All of that animosity gave me motivation to plough into the writing. And none of my tormentors ever stopped me from getting poems and stories and novels published. I also highly doubt that any of them have any artistic merit whatsoever.

Existence can be very dark. Of course. You can deal with it through artwork.

[kholran]

All of this. In addition to everything mentioned above, one of the most common side effects of declawing is a cat who doesn't use (or consistently use) the litter box. Back when I worked at the only local 'no-kill' shelter, we'd get a lot of people calling to surrender their pets, for just about every reason imaginable. Some more valid than others (I seriously had one person try to surrender their 14 year old dog because it no longer matched the furniture. I very nearly committed a crime that day.) Anyway, a frequently given reason for cat surrenders was "not using the litter box". And I would say 8 or 9 times out of 10, when you asked them if the cat was declawed, the answer was "yes". Big shocker, when you amputate toes and then bring the cat home (often with limited or no pain medication), and then said cat digs in a litter box full of tiny gritty bits, it fucking HURTS. So declawed cats will often develop pain-aversion behaviour, and choose to do their business somewhere more comfortable. Like the carpet, or a laundry basket full of clean towels, or the middle of your bed. Story time! I had a declawed cat. No, I didn't do it. I got this cat because her previous "owner" saw fit to drive up to the park next to our farm, open his car door, and throw her out into the woods before driving off. Luckily I witnessed this happen, and was quickly able to tell someone who went out and got her before anything bad happened. Through a not so surprising series of events, this cat ended up coming home with me that day. And I can say for a fact, without any doubt, that she was traumatized. Not only because of being dumped, but because of being declawed. For the first few weeks, she hid under a chair and barely came out to eat or drink. While she was under that chair, she would lash out and attack passing feet, which earned her the name Ninja (she was also black). Even after she gained the confidence to come out from under the chair, she would lash out at the slightest provocation. She growled almost non-stop, and bit when touched (biting is another common side effect of declawing, because the cats are very aware that their first line of defense is gone). She would swat at my other cats in a "you can't get me if I get you first!" kind of way. And of course, she peed on the carpet instead of the litter box. Now I'm not the type of person to give up on an animal once it's in my care. We ended up pulling up all the carpet, and putting puppy pads down in the places she used. She never stopped lashing out at us, even after 15 years. But underneath all that insecurity? There was a loving cat. In the quiet times, when she was comfortable enough to sit next to us and allow gentle petting, she'd purr and lean against our legs. It absolutely killed me to think of how wonderful and affectionate she could have been if they hadn't declawed her and made her so horribly anxious and defensive that she could barely function. You could tell that she desperately wanted affection sometimes, but she was too scared to accept it without lashing out. The only time I ever really got to hold her and show her the affection she wanted and needed was when she died in my arms at 16 years old. If she hadn't been declawed, she would have been a completely different cat. Affectionate, outgoing, and confident. Instead, she was anxious and volatile. Don't declaw your cats unless a medical emergency deems it absolutely necessary. The furniture isn't worth the physical and mental trauma you'll inflict on your cat.

ETA after reading some of the notes:

Yes, a lot of vets are still pro-declawing. Many will still offer it right alongside spay/neuter as just something you do. And the reason for that is that it makes them a LOT of money. I haven't checked the statistics recently, but the last time I did, declawing was the most profitable elective procedure for vet practices. So a lot of them will downplay the (many MANY) negative side effects and try to push owners to do it by saying things like "if you do it when they're young enough, it won't cause problems" or "there are a lot of causes of litter box disuse, we can't say for sure it's this". All of it is bullshit, and they're just trying to make money.

From my experience, just using nail trimmers and clipping a cat's claws does not make them more prone to biting (unless they hate it and bite your fingers while you're trying to do it). Be careful not to trim too close to the quick, and if possible, acclimate cats to having regular claw trims when they're still kittens. But at least in my own personal experience (currently, 10 clawed cats who get their nails trimmed), there is no increase in biting behaviour outside of the two minutes it takes me to get it done (particularly the cats who came to me as strays and had to learn to tolerate it when they were no longer kittens). Definitely not the same increase in biting as an every-day defense that we see in declawed cats. So don't be afraid to trim your cat's claws on a regular basis!

I been talking to a lot of ppl w cats lately (I volunteer at an animal shelter) and I didn’t know this needed to be said but

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT DECLAW YOUR CAT.

Declawing sounds very normal to people who aren’t educated on it so let me show you what it actually is.

As you might notice from the diagram, the claw is attached to a small bone at the very end of a cat’s paw. They are fused to this bone, which on a human hand would be where your last knuckle is (the one right before your nail). When someone gets a cat declawed, they aren’t just removing the claw.

The entire last digit of the cat’s paw is removed. (See below)

This severely impedes the cat’s ability to balance itself, is extremely painful for them, and can make the cat extremely aggressive because it no longer has one of its main defense mechanisms! It can also cause many other medical issues down the line including infection, necrosis, and some cats are never able to walk correctly again. Most cats that have this done never fully recover from the procedure and are in constant chronic pain.

It is extremely inhumane and is illegal in only two states at the time I’m writing this!!!! (Maryland and New York) Cats should only have this procedure if it is a life or death situation, never just because someone finds a cat being a cat inconvenient for them. Don’t get a cat if you don’t want to be scratched or have some ruined furniture. If you want more information on this topic, I’d recommend Jackson Galaxy’s YouTube video on it, and to read up on some articles I will link in the comments.

I know I don’t usually post about these types of things, but it’s made me extremely angry to hear people mention getting their cats declawed so flippantly as if it doesn’t ruin the cat’s life, and always for an asinine reason like “they scratched my couch” or “they scratch my kids” THOSE ARE YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES AS A CAT OWNER. Treat your kids and peers to treat animals with respect, or don’t get a cat.

[plan-d-to-i]

the truth – at least to me – is that the closest from the novel, the better. for exemple, I am madly in love with the manhua and I love the audio drama. and, to be honest, yes. I hate the changes. Omg, I feel like if cql was an adaptation of something else, I would like It a lot, but it's from mdzs. they changed the small details, which are the ones that make the whole point?! wtf is up with wx's relationship in the past?? wwx and the whole Wen remnants mistreatment stuff??? wwx making lwj drink against his will?? omg,

I hate it

what build their relationship were the small details, the fact that they were not really friends, not really enemies, not really lovers, not really had a classification bc— it was very fucked up because of the circumstances and miscommunication!!!! the whole point is that they are not so close yet, lwj couldn't do anything insane to help yet, they didn't know they were soulmates yet!! in cql, it feels like wwx is doing to lwj the same that he does to the Jiang siblings, pushing him away to protect him from the dc to keep lwj's reputation safe or something, when. WangXian Essential Point Is That Wwx Does Not Need To Risk Himself Or Be Alone To Protect Lwj, bc, for the first time, somebody who he loves is strong enough! can keep themselves on their own feet!

IS GOING TO HELP HIM, NOT TO SCOLD FOR DOING THE RIGHT THING!!!

and the personalities— oh fuck, I WAS ROBBED! give the fuck to me my wwx who wants to fucking eat the rabbits, who was glad to be expulsed from lqr's class, the one who doesn't cry much and the one who actually has A LOT OF EMOCIONAL CONTROL!!! GIVE MY MAN BACK!!! AND WTF IS UP WITH THE WAY HE DIED ON CQL???!!! DID THEY REALLY WANT TO CLEAN IT UP TO JC SO BAD??? THEY! EVEN! MADE! WEN QING! HELP WEN RUOHAN!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUUUCKK!! MAKE JGY MAKE THE 'EVIL' THINGS WWX DID FOR SELF DEFENSE??!! WWX WAS AMBUSHED, THAT'S WHY HE ATTACKED!

Wwx never moved to harm people without provocation!

so, yeah. they lost the point of the whole fucking thing with the changes. what the FUCK AND THE WHOLE FANDOM ACTS LIKE THIS SHIT IS CANON!!! they do be thinking wwx's demoniac cultivation is bad for his health and is going to kill him💔 that JC is a little meow meow who did nothing to deserve that end 💔💔 wwx moraly gray 💔💔💔 RESENTFUL ENERGY CONTROLLING AND AFECTING HIM 💔 I HATE THIS ONE SO MUCH WHY THE FUCK DID THEY MAKE THIS?! wwx can't be attacked and attack back without an explanation? fuck, he was attacked, that's the explanation! that's why he killed so many!!

and I didn't say even half! so, in this essay, I will—

haha I love the formatting of this, I completely agree with you. Also love the art style in the manhua, love the audio drama etc. BUT I can't believe you made me read "JC is a little meow meow" with my own eyes.

I'd just add- personally even if cql were an adaptation of something else I would still have problems with the plot having loose ends and the flow of the story- but it's true that comparing it to mdzs makes its shortcomings all the more glaring. AND not only did they make Wen Qing help Wen Ruohan w the Yin Iron ©Yang Xia bs, but they ALSO made her put up w jc's: here's a comb but leave your fam to die love ballad.

[lemonjoonah]

Blood Bounty - Part 1 (M)

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 10K Rating: M Genre: Historical fantasy AU, Vampire AU, Thriller, Drama, Smut Warnings: Non-consensual vampire feeding (graphic, provocative, sexual, blood play, and twisted as fuck), captivation/enslavement, blood, drugging (force feeding vampire blood), obsession, violence, PTSD, at one point the OC pleads for death, it’s dark guys you’ve been warned. While the vampire feeding in this part is highly sexualized, I do have somewhat more “traditional” smut scenes planned for part 2 and 3.

| Series Masterlist |

Summary: He’s taken everything from you, your blood, your memories, your life, and after months spent as Taehyung’s own personal feast, you eagerly take your chance to flee. Unfortunately your escape doesn’t go as well as you had hoped, as you are soon caught by another blood thirsty beast. The vampire Yoongi claims to know you, and that he wishes to return you home. But when you can only remember the pain caused by his kind, you find it difficult to trust him, since he too could just be another monster waiting to feed.

A/N: This mini-series is a loose retelling of Anastasia, you’ll find it to be very different from the animated film. I attempted to blend both the history and the story together in a new historical fantasy world that is not our own. Anyway I hope you enjoy the start to my three part twisted tale, and if you have any questions at the end please feel free to send them my way! Also a big thank you to my beta readers @m00nchild-shi​ and @ladyartemesia​. This story wouldn’t have made it this far without you!

This story is dedicated to all of those who have lost themselves to a monster (of any form) at some point in their life. I know the journey back to yourself can be hard, but trust me, you are worth every effort. 

...  

From the break of dawn you’ve crossed miles of ground, traversing through grassy fields and deep rivers. Accompanied only by the clothes on your back, a stake in your hand, and a pair of boots far too big for your feet, all stolen during your hastened departure. 

You consider yourself lucky after making it out unseen. Lucky that Taehyung had left his fortress of a castle, lucky that he took most of his capable progenies with him, lucky that the underling who tended to your room left the fire iron within your reach, and lucky that it was able to break the chain of the shackle fastened around your wrist. You left as soon as daylight broke. With everything working in your favour for your escape, even acquiring your captor’s clothes and cap to pass off as a young man. For sightings of a woman travelling alone might tip off those you would rather avoid.  

But now, with your heels raw and bloody, it would seem that your good fortune has finally run out, as the smell will no doubt attract his hunters. You curse your carelessness, for the number of times Taehyung has complimented you for your most potent scent. You’ve witnessed it yourself, a single whiff of your blood during his feedings having sent several of his men into a frenzy. This unfortunate blessing left you to be seen as a bounty, condemning you to his captivity, and now the struggle as you flee for your life. 

You attempt to clean the broken skin and stem the flow with strips torn from your tunic. The fine piece of clothing is barely recognizable after the paces you’ve put it through today. With the extra fabric now wedged into your boots you can only hope that it’ll make your journey tomorrow easier, and detain much of the scent that would allow them to track you. 

You wish that you could continue on tonight, but the darkness of the wood, your sores, and your fatigue impede your plans. You’ve gained ground but the lack of settlements must mean that you still lie within his realm. With your memories stolen in an effort to keep you at his side you have little to go on but a tapestry that hung in his den. It showed a city to the east, beyond the boundary of his land, and what is hopefully your home. But with the woven display having no proper scale you have no idea how long it will take to actually leave his territory. Freedom could be hours or days away.  You can only hope that the rivers you’ve traversed will keep them at bay until you can find a safer place to stay. Their weaknesses are all you have to lean on to prevent recapture, but will it be enough?

After tending to your feet you settle in the nook of a tree, leaning your head against the mossy trunk. Your stomach growls but you have no food to feed it, nor a blanket to dismiss the chilling wind which forces a shiver from you. Your deflated spirit is made even worse when a raven takes notice of your poor state. It circles overhead, undoubtedly looming with the hopes that you have given in, and that he too can feast on you. 

Ignoring the omen, you close your eyes, directing your focus instead on the surrounding sounds of the forest, listening for anything that might be a predator making an approach. Despite an exhausting day you still are wary of sleep, knowing what will greet you as you drift off, and concern of someone, or something catching up to you once you do. You rest there for what must be an hour, debating with yourself the advantages slumber, before you hear the snap of a nearby twig. Your fingers drift to the wooden stake on the ground next to you, your movement is slow hoping to escape the notice of whatever might be drawing closer. The footsteps which crunch on the leaves continue to advance on your position. There’s no running now, all you can do is play ignorance until they are in range for you to act.

When a hand reaches down and tilts the brim of your hat, you open your eyes, driving your weapon up in an aim to strike, but your assailant is too quick for you. He catches your arm in an iron grip, much like the remains of the manacle that still holds your other wrist. Though his face is hidden by the dark of night and his frame draped in a long coat, there is no doubt about what he is, and what he’s come for, his speed in stopping you was far too fast to be human.

“Be still,” the monster growls. “It’s me, Yoongi. Are you hurt?”

His concern is almost laughable. His implication of a connection likely a trap, one intent on luring you in, with a motive to end the hunt. “Not if you leave me be.” You attempt to press the stake towards him still, but he barely even registers your efforts. 

“Have you forgotten me?” The beast’s grip tightens on your arm as he dismisses your threat, taking the stake in his own hand before he pulls you up while he continues his deception, “I know that to be what I asked for, but I didn’t think... no, it matters not. ” He shakes his head as his words trail off. His voice then returns resolute and firm once he changes thoughts. “Come, we must get you somewhere safe.”

You dig your heels into the ground as he attempts to pull you along, clawing at his fingers until they release you. “I’m not going anywhere with you vampire. You will not take me back to him, anywhere is safer than there.”

“I am not taking you back, but we must leave. They’ve already placed a large bounty on you and these parts will be flooded with hunters soon.” 

“How can I be sure you’re not one of those hunters?” You make an attempt to retake the stake, showing you have no intention of complying with him. But he pulls it back, holding it just out of your grasp.

“You will have to take me at my word, I am not of Taehyung’s kin and I have no plans on handing you back over to him. Now if you please, I can either escort you to safety, or take you there by force.”

“I don’t trust you.” You glare back at him.

“Very well,” the vampire sighs, tossing your wooden weapon aside, putting it far beyond your reach. He then bends down, throwing you easily over his shoulder, and thereby ending the argument over your fate. Your fists collide with his back several times in an effort to make him release you, but he doesn’t appear bothered by the attack. You draw breath ready to call out when he stops you with a quick jostle. His shoulder lays into your abdomen knocking the wind from your lungs. “You may hit me all you want, but do not scream. I would rather not alert others to our location.”

Could he really not be someone sent by Taehyung’s underlings? Regardless, even if he is, you don’t have the strength to over power him. There’s little you can do but lay like a rag doll propped over his shoulder, with his arm hooked on the back of your knees. 

He hauls you over to a break in the trees, one which leads out to the road where a horse waits patiently for him. You’re thankful when he seats you on the saddle rather than throwing you on your stomach once again. With the full light of the moon on the open dirt road, you’re finally able to see his face properly. His soft and sombre expression is a drastic difference compared to Taehyung’s sharp features and cruel grin.

“Are you going to behave now princess?”

Your eyes widen with terror in response to his last word uttered. You immediately try to pull away to put as much distance as you can between you and him, but he holds you firm in the saddle. The confining grip matching the memories of the name he has just called you all too well. Your breathing comes in short panicked waves as your hand moves to conceal the scar on your neck. You can’t go back, you won’t go back, you refuse to endure that supposed term of endearment anymore. 

“Prin-” The vampire tries again to elicit a response from you, only this time you cut him off. Your fear turning to anger unwilling to tolerate another lie from his lips. 

“If you are not one of Taehyung’s clan then tell me, why do you address me in that manner?”

“You don’t know why I call you princess?” He gazes upon you, his eyes narrowed in confusion as you recoil once again. This time he takes your hand, which bears the weight of both the iron shackle and bitten brand, to hold you still. When you wince from the pressure of his touch, he looks down to examine the sensitive spot. His jaw stiffens as he finds the source of the pain. “What has he done to you?” He whispers softly as his fingers trail over the wound on your palm. 

...

“Open up princess, I have a gift for you,” Taehyung orders, standing over you as you sit on his desk. Gripping your jaw, while your lips remain sealed in defiance. “I said open.” His hand tightens, forcing your mouth to unfasten and expel a cry of pain. He presses the bloody tip of his finger to your tongue, dragging his index from the back to the front coating it with the thick fluid. “Now swallow.”

Your mouth begins to salivate with the intrusion of his blood. You know if you take it in you will lose everything once again, you’ll lose the will you’ve been building back up to defy him. He is never truly out of your system, you still have gaps in yourself, but the need to disobey always has its way of creeping back to you first. To be forced back into obedience within your own body and mind is nothing short of torture. 

You refuse to allow him to drag you back to the dark willingly, spitting your saliva along with his blood into his smug expression.

Taehyung chuckles darkly as he wipes his face with the back of his hand. “You’re right my princess. How could I think that only a drop would be enough to dispel your greed? You deserve more.” 

This time he bites into his hand allowing the blood to pool, while the other takes hold of your neck. The dripping flesh of his palm covers your gasping mouth. Your head is tilted back by his grasp as the blood drains down the back of your throat. 

“You will keep this down. You will accept my control. Every time you look at yourself you will think of me. When you close your eyes you will dream of me, for you can not run away only toward. You will remember nothing before me, and nothing before the night I bestow you with this.” His thumb passes over a three month old scar on your neck, continuing to mark it as the cornerstone of the earliest memory you possess.

Every week without fail he reweaves his bonds inside you, tending to them as a doting hunter with a valued prey. He takes his fill of you in between, sometimes it’s only a taste and others a full meal. Treating his desk as a dining table and you the feast, placing you down upon it for his consumption. 

“I will have to leave you weak in the knees today princess if I must go without you for a fortnight.” His finger catches a drop of blood that escapes your mouth running it back along your lips before his hand moves away and down, trailing deep red lines down the skin of your jaw and neck. “I’m sorry to leave, but there are some pressing matters which I must attend to.” He portrays a look of sorrow, but you know better than to believe that he can possess a single human emotion.  “You’ll be good while I’m gone won’t you? Shall I give you something to remember me by? Another mark unhealed for you to see? You can watch as it slowly means, knowing that I’ll be back to tear you open again.” 

He lifts your hand to his face with his own bloody fingers. How you wish you could slap him away, but your body refuses to move on your behalf, after consuming his blood it yields only to him.  

He does not hesitate before sinking his teeth into the base of your palm. Matching his own wound that he inflicted on himself, but as yours grows deeper, his begins to heal. He takes a long draft before releasing in a pant. Your blood acts like a drug to his system, making him as he so often puts it, ‘Feel alive again.’ 

He wipes his palm on yours allowing the breach to clot, he doesn’t mend it completely, instead leaving the painful imprint of his teeth, branding you anew, just as promised. “Appetizer, now entree Princess,” he mutters as he moves on, shifting to cradle your head and neck in his arms. You attempt to pull away, but that only forces him to issue the command, “Stay still.” 

His face hovers over the pulse of your neck, with you now frozen beneath. His fangs are careful not to dive too deep, retracting just as the blood begins to trickle from your throat. It collects in the well of your collar and trails down your chest, seeping beneath the bodice of your dress. The white fabric of your garment starts to bloom with scarlet. He could have chosen a gown of darker cloth for your personal wear, one that would be less prone to display the gruesome patterns of his actions, but he prefers to see the art of your suffering, your clothes and body becoming a canvas for his great masterpiece. He mutters how beautiful it looks while his fingers add to the display, painting a ruby-red choker around your neck using the blood as a stain.

His eyes linger taking in the sight before he moves in again to collect the flow, lapping it off your skin like a beast amidst a drought. You cringe as his tongue crosses your flesh, relentless in its desire to gather every drop it can. And just when you think he’s finished it makes another pass, accompanied by a growl and another sharp nip.

Unlike your hand, he completely remedies the gash on your neck, leaving only the one scar upon your throat from his first feeding. The loss starts to hit you, your skin turning cold like his, your breathing shallow, and your pulse quick. You hope that might be the end, that he has had his fill and needs no more, but his hand then fastens on your leg having pushed up the hem of your skirt and thin petticoat. “Let me in princess, I still have room left for dessert.” His teeth skim across the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh mapping his preferred spot from your pained twitches. 

You whimper as he clamps down for his last bite. The only solace you can take is that he will not be here for two weeks. You have more time without him feeding, time to gain back control, and time to escape. You stare off to the woven tapestry map behind him, not knowing where to go but longing to be anywhere but here.

...

“D-don’t call me that.” Your demand catches and cracks at the back of your throat.

“But it’s what you are-”

“I am not his dinner, I am not his slave, and I am most certainly not his princess! I will not go back. If you have any mercy, please... drain me here. For I am far more willing to meet death, than I am to see him again. ”

To your confusion he looks shocked that you would even suggest such an act. He takes a moment before looking into your eyes with a narrowed gaze, “You don’t remember anything do you? It’s not just me you’ve forgotten.” 

You shake your head, unable to meet his eyes, “I remember nothing before him.” 

The vampire holds what’s left of the iron shackle in his hands, bending it apart with only his grip, freeing you from it’s clutches. 

There's another sigh from him as he takes the space on the saddle behind you. His body is uncomfortably close to yours, with his breath on your neck, and arms wrapped on either side to take the reins. “And I thought he could sink no lower...” He urges the horse forward with a nudge and a few mumbled words far too low for you to hear. “You are right, you are not his meal, nor his property, but it is not simply a given moniker to which I am referring, it’s what you are. You are the only living heir of a human kingdom just east of here.” 

“You lie, there is no way I could be,” This is just another game of his. It has to be. “If I am what you say, how could I have ended up where I was?” 

“You went missing, disappearing from your bed in the night. Your people assume that you were kidnapped, that you were taken by a monster, not knowing what we are. But I assure you, you are the lost pr-” He stops as you stiffen once again. “I can take you home, back to your family, back to your people, if that’s what you wish.” 

“And why would you do that?”

“I broke a promise long ago, I plan to remedy that mistake.” 

“I fail to see how that applies to me.” You mutter as you slump down in the saddle, no longer fighting your current fate. This vampire too can easily overpower you, he can take you wherever he desires to go, but as long as it’s away from Taehyung you have no wishes to slow him down.

He pulls a skin of water from his horse’s pack offering it to you. Your dry mouth wants to empty it in one swig, but the possibility of what else it could contain holds you back. You turn your nose up instead fearing that he’s drugged it with his own blood. 

“I have not tampered with it if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You keep assuming your words carry weight with me. I will need more than that if I am to drink this.”

“If I intended to manipulate you with blood I would have done so already instead of fighting to get you on the horse.” 

He’s right, it would have been far easier. You take a careful sip rolling over your tongue, trying to detect even the slightest taste of iron before your swallow. 

He holds out food too, in the form of a few pieces of dried meat. Your mouth waters at the sight. The unaltered drink gives you the confidence to abandon your worries and take it, asking more questions while you eat. “You said I forgot you, but how was it that I knew you Yoo-” You pause trying to recall the name he led with when he found you. 

“Yoongi.”

You wait for more but he doesn’t continue, after swallowing your current mouthful you press further. “Are you not going to tell me?”

“It would be better if you remembered.”

“You expect me to trust you, but then you hide truths?” 

“I expect you to trust me because I want you to recall your truth of our encounters, not mine. When you do I will gladly discuss it with you, but not until then.” His tone is stern, boasting an air of finality to his argument.  

You huff back in frustration. “Can you at least tell me how long you’ve known me?”

“More than ten years now, you were a child of fourteen when we first met.”

“So you must know my name? My real name?” You ask with near excitement, hoping it might stir up some of your past within you.

“I do.” But as he recalls it, whispering the name for you to hear, nothing happens. You thought when you heard it again that everything would come back all at once like a spell broken by one magical word. But the name that comes from Yoongi’s lips has no meaning to you, no memory, no warmth. It bestows only a cold emptiness, a fear that you’ll never quite be able to bind yourself together with the person who bore that name before. 

...

Hours later Yoongi pulls his horse off the path and into the woods, trotting down what looks to be an overgrown trail. You finally come to a stop in front of a mound, backed by an elevation of stone and earth, bearing a small cave-like entrance.

“What is this?”  

“An old mining site. We’ll have to stop here for now.” Yoongi helps you down off the horse before removing the tackle and taking the large pack, he ties his steed up with a long lead on a grassy patch. Once finished you follow him through the dark and into the cavern, lagging a few paces behind with your legs stiff and sore from the night’s travel.

“But there’s still another hour or two until the sunrise. Why stop here?”  

“Because this is the last dark space that’s marked for the next fifteen miles.” He opens one of the bags pulling out a lantern, he lights it, dousing the cold and damp walls of the cave in a warm glow. Taking out a thick piece of paper next, he unfolds it with careful precision, laying it gently across a leather pack. He acts as though it’s a precious heirloom passed on to him from a loved one long gone. Your heart starts to race upon realization that it’s a map, and how with it’s aid you’d be able to find your own way home.  

Dark circles on the heavy parchment denote what according to the key is a resting spot. He opens it further pointing to both your current position and destination, your fingers tracing over a kingdom which he says is yours. With still three times the distance you’ve travelled yet to traverse, much of your contentment fades. 

Despite the blow to your morale, you continue your examination of the map, hoping to learn as much from it as you can. It’s beautifully intricate and precisely made, the only flaw is an ink smudge in the lower left hand corner, which appears to be a faint mirror image of the compass rose on the right. Likely the result of the map being folded before the ink had completely dried. You run your index over the blot feeling much the same. A partial imprint of your past life, and a great distance away from what you must have been. 

Yoongi watches you with a keen eye as you attempt to commit your future route to memory. “Does it look at all familiar to you?”

“No, I remember nothing of this land.” Not the names of rivers or cities return to you. How can you call a place home if you know nothing of it? “Thank you for your assistance. I know you have to stop, but after seeing this I feel that I should keep going.” You offer cordially, praying that he’ll agree to parting ways here. 

“Oh no you don’t. You’ll stay here until the sun sets, and we’ll continue together.”

“Why should I? If the sun is out I’m not at risk from vampires.”

“It is still a while before we reach your kingdom. You can see that can’t you? At least two more nights where you would be alone if I let you leave. Not to mention the risk from your own brethren. You haven’t been among other humans enough to know that they can be just as malicious.”

“Then give me your horse and I’ll out ride them.”

“When was the last time you rode a horse on your own?” He asks lowering his brow, scoffing as his tongue pokes at the side of his cheek. 

“I-I...” Naturally you can’t remember, and he knows it. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yes of course you’ll be fine, it’s not like there will be vampires nipping at your heels the whole way home. Do you know I could smell the blood trailing from your feet a mile away? I can’t imagine they are in a good state. If the horse were to unseat you and run off, would you even be able to continue?”

You wince at the thought of treading forward on foot. The blisters are already a source of great agony, it’s painful to think what they would be like after another mile or two. 

Yoongi notices the show of discomfort in your face,  “Looks like you’ll be staying with me then your highness.”

“I’d rather not...” You're grateful he’s stopped calling you by the other title, but that still doesn’t prove his loyalty. “Why are you so insistent on taking me home? What’s in this for you?”

“Your company.”

“I am serious,” you groan, casting a dark glare back at him over the candle light.

“So am I.” He mutters his response, it’s so quiet you almost miss it.

“You are insufferable! I should be taking advantage of the daylight, I should be putting more distance between myself and his prison. You should have left me there in the forest so I wouldn’t have to deal with your so-called assistance.”

“Forgive me for wanting to keep you alive and safe. It must be truly awful to have someone come to your aid.”

“You are not someone, you’re a vampire,” you bite back against his sarcasm. “I take no pleasure in being in the company of your kind.”

Yoongi sighs looking defeated, following it with an odd request. “Give me your hand, the one with the wound.”

“Why?” You clutch your palm to your chest in defence. 

“I’ll mend it properly for you, your heels too if you’d like. I want to help undo the damage that my kind has done to you. He should never have left you scarred like that.”

“He shouldn’t have fed off me in the first place!” You shout back your voice echoing off the walls.

“You’re right,” Yoongi levels with you. “But I can’t imagine you want to keep it.”

“I don’t, but I also don’t want help from you! I would rather carry this than any more of your poison. So you can keep your blood to yourself.”

“As you wish,” Yoongi responds, yet he still shifts towards you, encouraging you to back away and keep the space between you. 

“I’m not going to...” His tone sounds exasperated but soon changes to a softer register as he looks at your terror ladened face. “Just, take this.” Yoongi passes over a bed roll before pulling one out for himself from the woven pack. 

You stare at the bedding, questioning it, the convenience of such an item along with supplies all seem too good to be true. “Why would someone who travels alone have a second? Why would a vampire have a stash of water he can’t drink, and food he can’t eat?” 

“I brought them for you. I knew you would need them on the journey.” His answer comes off as thoughtful, but the explanation still doesn’t sit right with you, surely there can be no rational reason as to why he was so ready for your escape.

“You expect me to swallow your perfect timing? That you just happened to be in the right place at the right time, ready to play the role of saviour-”

“Who said the timing was perfect? It has been anything but ideal,” Yoongi growls cutting you off. “I have been trying to get you back ever since I learned that you were taken. But we have limitations that prevented me from just storming his castle. A vampire can not enter the home of another without permission. I tried to get you, believe me I did. While you were trapped inside for five years, I was kept outside for just as long. But I have always been prepared to leave with you at a moment's notice.” 

You were ready to continue your argument again just as he was to finish, but one of his last reveals disarms you with an all too unpleasant fact. “H-how long did you just say?”

“Five years?”

“No... that’s not possible, I can’t remember more than a few months.”

“Prin- your highness.” Yoongi catches himself as you turn to panic.

“Please don’t tell me that he held me for years.” You panicked whispers become sobbing pleas, you would gladly take the lie now. The thought of more tortures of imprisonment lying just below the surface of your memory is enough to make you want to do away with your entire past. Blindly tossing it all away and building it all anew, if only it worked that way.    

“It’s been years, I’m so sorry, but you’ve been with- you’ve been missing for half a decade.” 

“Why? Why would he take that too?” You whisper stand up clutching the scar on your neck, the mark you thought to be the first was likely a only a sequel to many. How many more lie hidden in your skin, healed and masked his blood?  Feeling a pull to leave, you stumble towards the mining shaft’s entrance, unable to take another minute beside a monster who could do the same. Yoongi grabs you from behind, wrapping his hands around your waist to prevent you from progressing any further outside. You strain against him determined to go back out into the open air.  “No, let me go.”

“I can’t do that, your highness.”  

You turn into him pushing against his chest as you shout. “Let me go Yoongi.” He doesn’t stop you from shoving, or cursing him out. He just stands there holding tight as you take out your loss on him. 

“If I were to do that his hunters would find you,” Yoongi warns. “Is that what you want? Because I’m not ready to lose you to him again...” The last of his sentiment drifts off as if he’s said too much. His grip loosens to the point where you can slip away. As much as you want to turn out and run towards the sun he’s right, you can't risk losing another five years or maybe more. He nods down to the bed roll abandoned on the ground. “You should get some rest, you’ll need it for the journey tomorrow.” 

You obey, taking the bedding and lantern, wandering back farther into the cave and further away from the vampire. Slipping off your boots you find the cloth you had wedged in earlier caked with blood. You glance over to your nocturnal companion seeing if the reveal had any effect on him, but he’s already lying down, his back towards you, paying no attention. Desperate to dispose of the temptation you hold the two strips of fabric above the lantern flame. Fortunately they are dry enough to burn, leaving only ashen traces of the linen scraps. You redress your wounds with more fabric from your garment, but before curling under the blankets for the day you take one last precaution. With numerous broken branches littering the floor of the cave, you take the most jagged and sturdy, tucking in by your side. The sharp twig is not quite a stake, but a better defence than nothing at all.

...

Even after travelling all day and night with little rest it takes an age for you to fall asleep, not because of the hard ground, not due to the pain in your legs, nor the questionable motives of your new guard, but the knowledge of who you’ll see once you do. Although Taehyung’s blood has lost control of your physical movements, his hold on your mind is still tight. You know you’ll see him when you drift off, but your exhaustion is unwavering and your need of rest undeniable.  

It seems like only moments after you close your eyes that you’re reunited. He lies there beside you back in his castle, with his own eyes closed, his face content with a small smile as though he’s just fed. But on this night, something’s different. You finally feel as though you have the power to fight back against him. The stake you had stolen from his collection, and promptly lost to the forest, found again by your side. You’ve always wanted this moment, taking vengeance on the one who put you through hell. Even if it is only a dream you’ll embrace it though reality.

Mere inches away from his chest your hand is stopped by his. His eyes fly open and he tackles you back. “Killing me won’t grant you freedom, it won’t stop others from coming for you.”

“Then let them come,” you sneer back at him. “For any life without you Taehyung will be a vast improvement, no matter how short or perilous.” 

There’s a quizzical look on his face, his thumb pushing into your palm trying to get you to realise the stake, “Wake up your highness, it’s not what you think.” 

You are pulled from the dream to find yourself with your pitiful excuse for a weapon in hand. Pointing it at Yoongi’s heart as he hovers over you. You drop it quickly, and attempt to slide out from beneath him out of fear of retaliation. “I thought you were him.” 

He places a heavy hand on your shoulder preventing any further retreat on your part. “I figured that to be the case. Do you have these dreams often?” His tone is not angry, but concerned.

You relax with his understanding, “Every night, he made sure it was so.”

“I know it won’t mend the past, but I’m sorry... for what he’s done to you.”

“I’m sorry I attacked you...” 

“I can’t blame you for that,” Yoongi admits with a curling smile on his lips. “If I looked at myself and saw Taehyung I would respond in the same manner.”

You let out a small chuckle, leading to a surprised expression on Yoongi’s face. His smirk soon turns into a sad smile. “I want you to know, when you are with me, you are safe. No one will feed from you, no one will touch you, myself included.”

...

You wake to the sound of a raven in the early evening, the deep croaks of the bird carrying through the mine. Keeping your head down you glance with narrowed eyes to spy on the vampire who currently ties a small roll of parchment to the leg of the dark creature. It waits patiently on his knee until the knot is firmly in place, letting out another loud cry once Yoongi’s hand retreats. 

“I suppose you’ll be wanting more then?” Yoongi takes his index, and presses it down onto one of his sharp teeth, allowing a bead of blood to form on the tip. The raven then takes his finger into his beak and tilts his head back as it feeds on the red droplets. You start to gag at the sight, alerting Yoongi to your awakened state. The bird takes flight as your escort gets up to check on you, but as he comes closer you draw back. He pauses after his first couple steps, and asks from a distance instead. “Are you alright?”

“Why did you feed it your blood?” You heave again at the thought, but with little in your stomach there is nothing to come up.

“He’s delivering a letter for me. The blood is his reward; it keeps him healthy, but it also allows me to convey where he needs to go and who he needs to find.” 

“It’s disgusting.”

“The raven is more than happy to take it as payment for his service. But I know of what you mean, when the exchange is done improperly...” Yoongi pauses as another wave of nausea overwhelms you again, “Forgive me, I thought you were asleep, I didn’t know you would be watching.”

“What were you sending?”

“Notice to my clan. I left my surveillance post, they will wish to know why.”

“Will that be a problem?” You hadn’t considered groups other than Taehyung’s, but if you can avoid interaction with them all the better.

“No, returning you home will be a greater blow to Taehyung. He has likely built a dependence on your blood and without you he’ll be left in a far weaker state. We might finally have a chance to diminish his hold on the region.” Yoongi takes a brief glance to the entrance and starts to pack away his supplies. “You should ready yourself to leave. The sun is almost down.”

You climb out from your bed roll to find that in the night the blood had seeped through the new makeshift bandage. Yoongi clenches his teeth, and makes another offer. “Please just let me heal them, you'll only need a drop.”

“That’s one drop too much.” You move back unsure if you should be more worried about Taehyung’s men tracking you down, or the more current and looming threat of the vampire in front of you. “Is this going to be a problem for you?” “No,” he confirms, however there’s a slight hesitation in his answer. “But you should go wash up before you lose all daylight, there’s a river just down hill.” He takes a kerchief from his pocket and places it on a rock between you. “You can have this if you’d like. I don’t have any bandages to offer, other than the treatment you find so distasteful.” 

You reach out and grab it. “You won’t be getting this back.” You eye him darkly. 

“That’s fine, just go clean them off before others who may be nearby take note of your aroma.” You observe him with caution, hesitating to pass by his threatening mouth to get to that of the cave’s. “Unless you want to stay and watch me eat.” He comments as he pulls out another soft flask which he carries in his jacket. You cringe as he holds in what is likely a stolen meal.

“What?” He fires back at your critical glare. 

“Do you drain all your victims into wine skins, or just those you wish to save for later?”

“The one who gave me this was not my victim. They were willing to part with it.”

“Willing?” You scoff. “I find that hard to believe. Are you sure you did not slip them some of your own blood first?”

“No I did not, but if you have a problem with how I conduct my feedings you only have yourself to blame.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Now hurry, so we can make use of this night.”

You do just that, darting past him you leave the mine heading down to the river in the fading sunlight.

...

As you return Yoongi is already outside and packing the horse. With his back to you he pulls an apple from the saddle bag, and the horse turns his head towards the treat with it’s mouth open and reaching. He pulls it back and away from the creature, “I know, I know this should have been yours, but you’ve had enough grass and she needs food. Do you mind sharing?” You watch as he rubs his steed behind the ear and it gives up on it’s want for the fruit. “Thanks, next one is yours, I promise.”

“Am I to thank you or the horse for my meal?” You call out to the vampire.

“You may thank him if you like.” Yoongi hands off the apple to you as you approach.

You can’t help smile as you stand in front of the massive and beautiful stallion letting him smell the back of your hand before you reach you pet the star on his forehead. “What is his name?” 

“Horse...” Yoongi admits. 

“Horse? Surely you jest. Why would you not give him a proper name?”

“He went for so long without one it just stuck.” Yoongi responds as he tightens the girth of the saddle. “What would you have named him?” 

“I’m not sure, but certainly not horse. You poor beast, first he deprives you of a suitable name, then an apple.” You take a few bites but with your stomach still queasy and unable to take anymore, you give the rest to the poorly named steed. Once the bridle and tackle are secure you mount up despite the instant outcry from your legs. You find Yoongi watching you, taking notice but remaining silent. You’re grateful for his lack of discourse, not wanting to have to explain the tenderness of your ass and thighs owing to yesterday’s travel. 

Regrettably, the aches become worse, and after only a couple hours of riding you’re barely able to stay upright. If Yoongi’s arms weren’t circling around you to keep hold of the reins you would have slid to the ground long ago. It seems that he’s no longer able to disregard your comfort though.  “Are you well?”

“Relatively speaking, yes.” You whisper holding in a groan.

“Relative to what?”

“Relative to a week ago.” To your time with Taehyung. You grimace further with each mounted stride.

“I think your scale is skewed. We’ll slow for a bit. Though you might think differently, I have no desire to see you in pain.” He slows his steed to a walk and dismounts, letting you lean back as he leads the horse forward. 

“This is nothing I promise. We should keep the pace up.”

“You wish to be rid of me so soon? Even if it causes you agony?”

“Yes.” Your short reply is enough to make him pause for a second, his face splitting into an open smirk before he continues again.  

“Though I appreciate your honesty, the horse could use a break too.” Yoongi chuckles darkly. “You’ll have to learn how to hold that tongue of yours again once you return to court.”

You take in a sharp breath as a chill runs down your spine. You’ve been so focused on what you are running from you haven’t given thought as what you are running too. “Do you know much about my family, about my life back home?”

“Some.”

“You said I was the last remaining heir. There must have been a time when that wasn’t the case.”

“Your brother...” Yoongi explains, his gaze fixed on the road. “He passed away a few weeks ago. He was very ill, had been all his life.”

You take a deep breath as you register the news, but it’s hard to properly grieve when you can’t recall what you lost. “I wish I could remember-” 

Yoongi must be taking pity on you as he delves further without your prompting. “You loved him very much, but you weren’t as close as you would have liked to have been. His ailment was unknown to many and it prevented him from spending much time with you.”

“How do you know that?” 

“Because you told me.” He whispers, finally meeting your eyes again.  

“Wh-what else do you know? Will you tell me?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “Give it time and you’ll remember on your own. His hold won’t last forever.”

“I still don’t understand why you won’t say more.”

“Because I don’t want to give you a false sense of your past, only to find out later that it was different than I thought, than I hoped. Your affection for your brother was obvious, but with other focuses of your adoration I cannot be sure. So please do not ask much of me. You’ve gone through enough, I have no wish to plant false regard for things you did not actually love.” While Yoongi continues to look up to you his expression takes a sudden shift. His nose lifts into the air and takes a deep breath, before his head snaps back at the road ahead. “Humans... four of them.”

Your heart leaps at the prospect, but Yoongi cuts your anticipation short. “Don’t get too hopeful. They are currently trying to conceal themselves on the path ahead. I doubt their motives are well intended.” He reaches up to tuck a lock of hair that had fallen out from your cap. “Stay on the horse and keep quiet. I’ll deal with them.” 

“But-”

“For your own safety, please do what I ask.” 

The trees growing around the road are thick and dense, your eyes dart between the trunks in hopes to catch movement, but with the forest cloaked in darkness you have little ability to find anything. Minutes pass and just as you are about to question Yoongi, you spot a man with tattered clothes lying in the middle of the dirt road ahead. Thinking he might be a victim of the others mentioned, you make an attempt to dismount. But Yoongi holds your hand firmly on the reins, while he calls out to the casualty. “The wounded traveller? Do people still fall for that?”

There’s a moment of silence before a man emerges from the forest to the left. “You’d be surprised,” he responds, while two more appear on the right. 

The destitute wayfarer on the road gets up and dusts himself off. “It’s a shame you didn’t fall for our ploy, it’s much easier both for us and those who do, so much less blood.  You look to be worth the effort though. I’m sure we could fetch a pretty penny for a steed like that.”

The four close in ranks and advance. Yoongi stays by your side, eyeing their approach, he gives a warning. “For your sake, I hope there will be no blood involved.” 

“Is that a threat?” One of the highwaymen asks. “I should like to see how you plan on besting us without a blade. 

The man closest to you, with a dagger drawn, reaches out to grab hold of your leg. “Come down off the horse lad. There's no point in putting off the inevitable, it’s ours now.” In spite of his weapon you ready to kick the man off, but before your foot can lay into him his grip is torn away. In the blink of an eye Yoongi is on the other side of the horse forcing the assailant  to his knees with an arm behind his back. There’s a loud pop from the thief’s shoulder, resulting in a cry of pain. One of the other bandits charges to free his ally, his sword ready. Yoongi succeeds in dodging the initial thrust of the steel, and with one hand takes the saber, turning it instead on it’s owner. Your vampire escort issues another caution with the point at man’s throat. 

“If you would like your friend to keep use of his arm then I suggest you all back away.” While the disarmed thief retreats backward with his hands in the air, the rest are frozen in place refusing to move. “You think I jest?” Yoongi’s grip tightens while his captive lets out a shout. The little effort used on the vampires part to make the man submit finally prompts his fellows to take two steps back. “I swore to my companion that no one would touch them on this journey. You’ve made me break that promise, and I am not pleased.” There’s a deep growl to his voice that sends chills through even you. “I should take this limb in payment, and maybe one from each in your party too.”

“Yoongi....” You whisper in a low tone.

He turns back to you with a slight smirk. “But you are lucky, my friend prefers mercy. It’s far more than you deserve.” Yoongi lowers his head muttering into the bandits ear. “I’ll tell you what. You may keep your arm, but you and your men will abandon your camp, head south and keep walking. You will tell no one of us, and if I ever come across your path again I will not hesitate to act on my threats.”

Yoongi releases the man allowing him to scramble away as he clutches his shoulder. The other three support their injured cohort as they run off. 

Yoongi takes hold of the horse from the ground once again, leading you off the road. “Their camp it’s just this way. They might have had some supplies which will be of use to us.”

You only nod in response unsure of what to say, after what you just witnessed. The first humans you had interacted with in years, and here they intended to rob you. 

The smoke of their smouldering fire draws you in. Yoongi’s hunch was right, they had a good deal of useful items. Rations for you, along with spare changes of clothes. He fills a bag and ties it on the saddle, leaving their stolen riches along with the blade behind for someone else to find. 

He mounts up behind you again, carrying on forward for some time before speaking again. “Are you well your highness? You’ve been very quiet.”

You give him another nod, while chewing on your lip. “Why south?”

“That’s where my own clan’s territory lies. If they try to pull something like that again they’ll regret it.” He shifts in the saddle behind you, “Back there, I-I didn't scare you did I?”

You fall silent again, unable to confess he somewhat had, but also that the terror of your fellow mankind outweighed his by far. You fear the idea of having crossed them alone. They would have taken advantage of your mercy, who knows where you would be now if it weren’t for the self-proclaimed guard at your side. 

Yoongi seems to take your lack of answer as confirmation of his worry. “I needed them to see me as a vicious monster, had they not backed off I would have had to become one. I’m sorry you had to witness the threat but it was necessary. I needed to terrify them for their sake and yours. I promise didn’t intend to frighten you, only to keep you safe. ” 

...

Coming close to the break of day you find rest this time in a small abandoned house. The windows shuttered completely to prevent even the smallest stream of light from entering. Unlike the night before Yoongi doesn’t light the lantern. It’s so dark inside that he has to lead you to an empty space of floor for you to rest on. He takes a couple steps away, giving you some space before settling down himself once again between you and the door.

“I’m not going to run, you’ve made your point, or I should say the thieves did.”

“I don’t rest between you and the exit to keep you here, but to stop others from entering,” Yoongi explains. “These spots I’ve scoped out, I am not alone in using them. They are how my kind travels, some might have found different places to rest away from the sun, but I can tell that others have used this location. Don’t go examining your surroundings too closely, you might not like what you find.”

Now thankful for the darkness, you take your bed roll from Yoongi. “Rest easy,” he mutters as you climb in between in the blankets.

“Not likely,” you whisper back. “But thank you.”

Unfortunately you are correct, your sleep is once again disturbed by Taehyung. You catch a glimpse of his face before you're surrounded by him. The darkness holds you in a suffocating grip, your mouth slowly filling with blood. You struggle trying to breath reaching out to take a hold of anything that would pull you out. 

A hand grabs on to the side of your face, another on to your arm. Finding the shine of Yoongi’s eyes once you're able to open your own, you gasp out to him begging for some sort of relief. “Can’t see... can’t breath...”

He picks you up only to set you back down on the floor a second later. There's a click and the front door opens to reveal a narrow shaft of sunlight. A single beam a couple inches wide, but it’s enough to dispel the darkness inside. Your eyes start to water, blinded by the light, but it’s far too warm and comforting to deny yourself the sight.    

To your disgust there’s a lingering taste of blood in your mouth. Reminding you of the shackles that still bind you to Taehyung as it continues to overwhelm your senses. Yoongi’s voice flows from the darkness just to the side of the door, his eyes glowing like that of a predator’s. “I think you might have bitten your tongue in your sleep, your highness.” 

He’s right, you find a sore spot as you press it to the roof of your mouth. You make an attempt to focus back on the sun. You sit there in silence letting your breath and heart return to a normal rate. All while Yoongi’s eyes continue to watch you, burning in the darkness. He apologizes for his gaze, but does not withdraw his attention, “Sorry but it’s been so long since I’ve seen someone bask in the sun. I’ve forgotten what it feels like myself...”

“How long?”

“I lost count around the century mark, but it’s likely been double that.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Yes, but I understand. Immortality is a large price to pay, and every monster must have an equal weakness.”

“But I suppose, not everything it repels is a monster.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow as if he’s hiding a small smile in the darkness. “Dare I say, that sounds almost like a compliment?”

“Merely an observation,” you whisper, but your words trigger something inside you, a pain and longing which you can’t explain. “Yoongi, what were we to one another before...” Before Taehyung interrupted your life. “Please I know you don’t wish to speak for me, but I need to know your view of what we were.”

“We were friends, just friends.” He responds but you're not convinced, just friends do not wait outside the home of their enemy for five years. Just friends don’t put their entire life on hold for another. Just friends aren’t overwhelmed with the desires that seem to be returning to you now.

You’ve seen this expression on him before, you know you have. On the edge of your memories lies a dark cavernous stone built hall, one in which only you and him resided. You find him crumbling under the weight of what he is and what he’s lost because of that. Fragments of your words and his surface in your mind.

“You are not a monster Yoongi, I do not need saving from you!”

“If not from me, then at least from my kind. I cannot give you the life nor the safety which lies here... You would be better off if you forgot me entirely.”

You remember your wish to comfort him, to embrace him and prove that he has not lost everything because of what he is. With the recollection fading, falling from your grasp, you panic out of fear of losing the brief moment of memory. Closing the door you move towards Yoongi, the only focus you have of your previous life, hoping the scene in your mind might continue.

“I don’t need saving from you,” you mutter, blinded by the rapid loss of light, reaching out in an attempt to find him again. 

He takes your hand and holds it, his cool fingers trailing soothing lines over the mark on your palm. “If not from me, then at least from my kind,” he responds, following the path of your dialogue from long before. “You remember our last meeting?” 

“Only a fraction of it. I remember wanting to...” To confess to him, to kiss him, that was your past self was leaning towards. You thought well enough of him to desire an intimacy with one who feeds on others... that can’t be right. But even now you can start to see the appeal your younger self cared for. His soft touch on your hand, his calming presence, and protection, those are not qualities of a monster. And in the memory you were worried that he would reject your affection, that he would be the one to pull away, not you. “Did you ever desire to be more than friends?”

His eyes grow wide at your question, but his stance remains the same. “You know I will not answer that.” 

“But this is regarding your feelings, not my own!”

“I will say no more of us. I’ve told you far too much already.” He leaves the topic at that, directing you to your present state instead. ”There’s a few more hours before sunset... do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

You shake your head and move to sit with your back against the boards of the wall. Your reply is slow to come, and muddled with the first gasp of tears. “I can’t...” The prospect of closing your eyes again is too terrifying.

Yoongi comes to sit beside you, as he continues to hold your hand, his other arm wraps your shoulders as you let out the pain. A couple of hours ago you would have pushed him away out of fear, but with the spark of your past self craving his presence, who are you to deny the support it needs. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I have to keep my view from you. I don’t want to add to the damage that has been done.”

“There is not more damage that could be done. All I have to remember is a few months spent in agony and terror. How can I find comfort or rest when that is all I have? I have no knowledge of who or what made me happy, or of what dreams chased away the nightmares.”

“An adventure,” Yoongi mutters, his head bowed to the floor as he concedes with another part of your past. “You always dreamed of having an adventure.” 

You let out a broken and weeping scoff, crestfallen that your ambitions to learn more only exposed a further divide. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Your parents were overprotective, because of your brother's condition. You were forced to keep to the castle, you just longed for something different.” His thumb rubs along the back of your hand as he holds it. 

“But I don’t feel like one to see the risk of adventures as desirable.”

“You’ve been through much since then, fear has a way of changing what we want. I will admit I wished for you to be more careful back then, but never at a cost like this.” 

“I don’t know if I will ever be that person again...” You draw your knees to your chest letting your head lull to the side and onto him. 

“That’s okay,” His arm grips you tighter, as his face lowers to the top of your head. His lips briefly brush against your hair, before his cheek comes down to rest, taking their place. “That’s why I’m taking you home.” 

...

[tiphprince]

a) he was provoked

By what? Sirius’ boredom? They were walking outside, Sirius was saying how much he’d love for Remus to be in atroce pain because he’d very much like to endanger some more people every month, then this happened:

“This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,” said James quietly. “Look who it is. . . .” Sirius’s head turned. He had become very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit. “Excellent,” he said softly. “Snivellus.”

He and James saw their favorite target, and decided to attack him without any provocation, because they felt like it. Like predators who found their prey. You can’t get more explicit than that.

it is my opinion that Snape (who choses to use a slur against his best and presumably only friend cause she won’t go on a date with James, which no matter how you feel about Jilly is kinda shitty on Snape’s part)

The fuck? Where did you get this exactly? James tried to blackmail Lily into going on a date with him (”go out with me and I’ll stop hurting your friend”, peak piece of shit behavior by the way), she refused, and several dialogue lines later, Snape called her a mudblood. Most likely because of the humiliation of being sexually harassed in public, and having the girl he loves come to his defense, even more so when it’s a boy being defended by a girl (in the 70s).

I’m pro people who are being bullied/have friends being bullied stand up for themselves

Yet you’re somehow victim blaming Snape in saying that he deserved (because yes, saying that a victim provoked their aggressor into being sexually assaulted is gross victim blaming), so I’m not sure I’m following you.

they would have escalated to something much worse than essentially giving him a wedgy and calling him names

It did. Sirius tried to have Snape murdered. He didn’t succeed, yet still thought a teenager deserved to die for being nosy some 15 years later.

Also, it’s heavily implied that James removed Snape’s underwear in public. That’s sexual assault, not a wedgie or whatever. Forcibly removing someone’s underwear, is sexual assault. It’s not in any way shape or form comparable to pulling up someone’s underwear.

They also did not “just” do this, by the way. Snape was, in one single scene, and I’m going to quote directly from the book to make sure there are no misunderstandings:

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “Impedimenta!” he said, pointing his wand at Snape, who was knocked off his feet, halfway through a dive toward his own fallen wand. [...]

Snape lay panting on the ground. [...]

Snape was trying to get up, but the jinx was still operating on him; he was struggling, as though bound by invisible ropes.

“Wash out your mouth,” said James coldly. “Scourgify!” Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape’s mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him —

James whirled about; a second flash of light later, Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underpants. Many people in the small crowd watching cheered. Sirius, James, and Wormtail roared with laughter.

“Right,” said James, who looked furious now, “right —” There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside down in the air. “Who wants to see me take off Snivelly’s pants?” [underwear]

In addition to all of this, Snape also shows signs of trauma because of the Marauders. When Harry fights him after Dumbledore’s death, Snape blocks away Unforgivable Curses like it’s nothing, but the second Harry wants to go for Levicorpus, Snape loses it. He’s able to lie to Voldemort’s face for years, keeping his control, yet has a mental breakdown in public when Sirius and Remus are once again involved.

Everything in this scene screams familiarity, Rowling genuinely couldn’t have made this any clearer. Remus knows what’s going to happen the second James and Sirius spot Snape, so he goes further away because he’s too cowardly to stop his friends. Peter also knows exactly that he’s going to have fun watching someone be tormented because he looks with “avid anticipation” before James even calls Snape.

The crowd looks apprehensive, Snape reacts like he expected an attack and is hyper aware of his surroundings because he’s used to all of this. James and Sirius came up with their bullying nickname when they were 11. Again, Sirius thought it’d be funny to set Snape to be mauled by a werewolf, which is something that semmed to have happened not long before SWM.

to me the fact that Snape's memory is described as his "worst" proves James wasn't regularly bullying him. Like yeah what James did sucked ass, but a) he was provoked, b) it is my opinion that Snape (who choses to use a slur against his best and presumably only friend cause she won't go on a date with James, which no matter how you feel about Jilly is kinda shitty on Snape's part) was probably a bully himself, which is not to say he deserved it but is to say that I'm pro people who are being bullied/have friends being bullied stand up for themselves.

Anyway my point being if Snape was really regularly being bullied by James and others, they would have escalated to something much worse than essentially giving him a wedgy and calling him names. Again, not defending bullies here, just saying I've known many teenage boys and they've done worse without magic.

[weirdmageddon]

my rheumatologist has done more for me towards getting a POTS diagnosis than my cardiologist thats kinda sad bro

i came in to the cardiologist the other day (finally after waiting MONTHS) hoping for a tilt table test to see how my heart rate and blood pressure react to orthostasis in a controlled setting. the doctor didnt actually do a thing to test me for it in-office, i was just told to schedule an echo (which is fine), holster (alright) and stress test (why). but i was also prescribed eastern medicine as a treatment....“superbrain yoga”? like i dont want to seem closeminded because she is an indian doctor and there are some things that western medicine hasn’t caught on to but i realy wish i was told why it is supposed to work. like i want to know physiologically how and why it supposedly works. get technical and mechanical with me bro i have le autism, thats my language if you wanna really convince me. if it’s about toning up the muscles in my legs to squeeze the blood into my core upon standing why dont i just do squats? why do i have to do all this really specific stuff like hold my tongue at the roof of my mouth and face east, crossing my arms (right arm must go over left) and maneuver my hands in a certain way to grab my earlobes while doing those squats? is that merely a concentration sort of thing to make your brain focus? if so, why not just let me know what the purpose to these specific movements are (and what does focusing my brain have to do with treating POTS symptoms anyway)?? i’m not a spiritual person so the spiritual aspects of it do nothing for me. but at least i wasn’t given intensive aerobic exercise because i cant do that lol. i was just prescribed core strength training with planks and crunches (fine with me) and “superbrain yoga” (the specifics still confuse me but i’m doing it anyway)

but i didnt even get a tilt table test while i was there, i asked about it and she said “we stopped doing tilt table tests a while ago” and i was like ????????? thats like the gold standard to test for POTS my guy. based on just my symptoms she said i had dysautonomia and i asked “what about POTS?” and she said “it could be” and i was like ? could be? bro you didnt even test for it?

the whole visit just felt really vague and dismissive to my issues (yet again). fucking even my rheumatologist said before this visit to the cardiologist that i “probably have POTS”

so when i left the cardiologist the other day i wrote this up because i was very upset, felt dismissed, and took matters into my own hands to show what kind of medical concepts i’m capable of comprehending and the kind of language i want doctors to talk to me about my conditions in. and today i read it to my rheumatologist during today’s appointment:

the cardiologist says i have dysautonomia, “caused by dysfunction of the small blood vessels”. in the clinic, the nurse measured my laying vs standing blood pressure (which increased rather than decreased) but they didn’t do my heart rate there for some reason. but on my own i’ve measured my heart rate to jump above 30 bpm within 10 minutes of standing, so with all the symptoms lining up exactly with what’s expected of POTS (heart rate increase greater than 30 bpm within 10 minutes of standing, no drop in blood pressure, lightheadedness, brain fog, palpitations, prolonged fatigue, heat intolerance, excessive sweating etc), i’m convinced that the type of dysautonomia i specifically have is POTS, not just the umbrella term “dysautonomia”, and the specific brand of POTS i have is the neuropathic POTS subtype which is thought to be caused by sympathetic denervation (partial autonomic neuropathy) in the lower extremities. this causes the blood vessels in my legs not to constrict as they should when standing, which in turn causes blood to pool in the legs and not return to the heart, causing the heart to have to source its blood supply from elsewhere in the meantime to compensate (with an overall lower venous return), driving up the heart rate and causing lightheadedness. my blood tests also showed i am also very slightly anemic by 0.1 point below the normal range (11.6 g/dL) the resulting denervation hypersensitivity from the sympathetic denervation what is thought to cause erythromelalgia—which i express all the hallmark symptoms of as well in my feet (redness, increased skin temperature, burning sensation (feels like walking on a hot pool deck), cold to touch and bluish purple when not actively flaring, flaring occurs at night, symptoms worsen with exposure to heat and exercise (including walking on feet while flaring) and are relieved with cooling and elevation). i have no response to the cold unlike with what is seen in raynauds. i actually consider cold exposure my savior; the heat is my worst enemy, it makes me feel faint and lightheaded dysautonomia-wise and it makes my feet flare up rheumatologically.

“Several previous investigations have provided clues that patients with the postural tachycardia syndrome have peripheral autonomic dysfunction. Streeten et al. found that patients with orthostatic tachycardia had excessive venous pooling in the legs while standing and suggested that denervation of the legs was a mechanism of the syndrome. This hypothesis was supported by the finding of hypersensitivity to infusion of norepinephrine into the veins of the foot, despite high plasma catecholamine concentrations. [...] These stimuli increased norepinephrine spillover in the arms of both the patients with the postural tachycardia syndrome and the normal subjects, with similar increases in the two groups, but failed to increase norepinephrine spillover in the legs of the patients. [...] The reduced clearance of norepinephrine in the legs, without a similar reduction in the arms, may result from impairment of norepinephrine-reuptake mechanisms due to isolated damage to nerve terminals in the legs. [...] CONCLUSIONS: The neuropathic postural tachycardia syndrome results from partial sympathetic denervation, especially in the legs.” — (https://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJM200010053431404)

“The laser Doppler flowmetry signal after sympathetic stimulation of reflexes mediated through the central nervous system, was significantly diminished in patients with erythromelalgia as compared with healthy controls. [...] Vasoconstrictor responses involving central sympathetic reflexes were attenuated in erythromelalgia. Local neurogenic vasoconstrictor regulation, vasodilator response to local heating and hyperemic response to ischemia were maintained. [...] The finding of reduced skin perfusion before provocation is in accordance with the clinical observations that many erythromelalgia patients exhibit cold acral skin between attacks. [...] These results indicate that postganglionic sympathetic dysfunction and denervation hypersensitivity may play a pathogenetic role in primary erythromelalgia.” — (https://linkinghub.elsevier.com/retrieve/pii/S0022-202X(15)41629-X)

“Denervation hypersensitivity is a phenomenon peculiar to smooth muscle innervated by the general visceral efferent system. Following denervation there is increased sensitivity of the muscle to neurotransmitters. This is evident in smooth muscle innervated by sympathetic neurons when the postganglionic axon is affected. Such denervated muscle shows hypersensitivity to the application of epinephrine or to circulating epinephrine released during excitement.” — (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/B9780721605616500198)

although my rheumatologist is in no position to give me a POTS diagnosis she very much agreed with the connections i made and said she thinks i am right on the mark with my conditions. she told me im a real academic patient and even that i’d be well suited for going into medicine lol. not only is it refreshing to have a doctor that doesn’t disregard their patient’s knowledge, but it’s good to see what i’ve learned about nerves from my biopsych classes (and in my own time for funsies) paying off in ways concerning my health. my mom who is a nurse also agrees that neuropathic POTS and erythromelalgia are what i have.

anyway the POTS symptoms have been a massive thing for me since puberty and the erythromelalgia developed a year or so after my POTS symptoms started. but i’ve always had freezing cold clammy hands and feet since i was a young child, they just hadn’t started changing colors and flaring until after i hit puberty. i’m not sure what destroyed the sympathetic nerve fibers in my legs (as most POTS happens in teenagers due to some viral illness but i’ve never had that?), i was also just tested for a bunch of autoimmune factors and disorders and my results came back negative. maybe it’s just a genetic factor, who knows, probably something caused by a hormone’s cascading effect gone awry at some point. it seems a lot of autistic afab people have POTS or some other type of dysautonomia for some reason and i’m curious as to why.

anyway i’m really stuck in a liminal space because i have no official diagnosis beyond “dysautonomia” but i’ve been sure of what it is for like over a year and it keeps getting clearer and clearer that i was right all along

[loveylangdon]

Go To Town

Word Count: 4.2k

soft jj x best friend reader 

A/N: I have no idea why but 'Go To Town’ by Doja Cat reminds me of JJ (listen it if you want to), so I came up with this lil scenrio based off the song but not really? but who doesn’t love a good dance sesh to tease a cute boy. Just some cute JJ love tbh, everyone has the angsty, hard ass jj heres a lil content smol jj.  This is my first jj fic so pls be kind. truly a white mans whore so i’ll include my masterlist for my other writings Xx

*not my gif credit to owner*

y/n p.o.v.

“If you're down, boy, really down, baby let me watch you go to town” You and Kie screamed at the top of your lungs dancing on the Pogue. It was your turn to pick the music playlist for the day out on the marsh and you had more of an open love for all music. When it was your turn to pick the playlist it was a bit of everything everyone loved but today you just wanted to let loose and have fun. You vibed heavy with the reggae and soft jazz the boys usually picked or the pop-rock JJ chose, but you wanted to have more fun before the kegger tonight. Your vibe was usually infectious and you wanted the others to be able to let loose. Hence listening to some Doja Cat in the middle of nowhere with also the slight hope of catching JJ’s attention more so than usual.

Your cousin came down from the mainland and showed you some new artists and ‘Go to Town’ by Doja Cat was on her playlist which reminded you of your little blonde hair blue eyed crush. JJ Maybank possibly royalty amongst the pogues and rightfully so with his charm, good looks, and his ability to fix basically anything he was a guy every girl wanted to sleep with. But to you he was an angel in disguise. Glancing over at him you saw him smirking behind his beer bottle and looking at you intently in your swimsuit dancing with Kie. “Go down, go down, go down, go to town” You and Kie kept screaming out “and she shave it all off Charlie Brown with it” dropping down and dancing on each other. John B laughing and throwing his head back, Pope smiling like an idiot, Sarah refusing to dance provocatively with you two trying to hold on to John B’s arm for dear life. Today was gonna be good. You had JJ’s attention from the moment you stepped on the boat and that’s all you wanted even if it was because you were currently grinding with Kie. 

Together but not together, you and JJ were in this endless cycle of teasing and flirting constantly but today you were winning. Watching him while dancing on Kie you knew you had him wrapped around your finger. Making sure your eyes were locked for most of the provocative parts of the song or when you dropped lower than normal. Watching how his eyes get a deeper shade of blue and how he was holding on tighter to the neck of the beer bottle John B handed him before you guys anchored down. Smiling to yourself you turned and gave Kie your full attention again dancing and acting foolish screaming lyrics to the wise words of Doja Cat “If he don’t eat it, he a D-bag, He can use a submarine, I’ll call him seaman” 

You were kind of this untouchable girl in the group, maybe even a better girl version of JJ easier to tame. Young, wild and free. Pretty, smart, fun always up for adventure but you had the spirit of Pope calculating and thinking things through but you knew when to let go. The perfect balance, Smart and quick on your feet, great at getting out of certain situations you became the mediator for Pogues and Kooks. Not being much of either you were what they would call a “Pookie” in the middle, not exactly a full Pogue but not much farther from being a Kook but not good enough either. However the group accepted you far quicker than they accepted Sarah Cameron, pure at heart and no ill intentions just wanting to have fun, Plus it didn’t hurt that you stopped Rafe from attacking them the first time you met them on the island. After they knew you were badass and down to earth how could the 3 boys refuse to let you in their secret club. Kie joined later which you were thankful for, loving your boys endlessly for 4 years but you couldn’t say no to another girl to help keep these boys corralled. 

While being associated with the Pogues it didn’t stop Kook guys trying to get at you. You were invited on figure 8 anytime as well as the cut. Princess of peace some would call you, you could get Kelce and Rafe to back down from a fight more often than not. Rafe not wanting to get on your bad side because you had a fire in your eyes and he wouldn’t want to hurt his chance of possibly getting laid if the “opportunity arises” you would never but it didn’t hurt to make him think so. Being Pookie came with power. Being able to control Rafe meant power over the Kooks. Hurting you could hurt Mr. Cameron’s business in some ways, you didn’t have a big mouth but you never forget what happens, you’re a more credible person to believe than the Pogues if it came to spilling some of Rafe’s secrets. And Rafe never forgot that. So he played nice-ish when you were present. Plus it didn’t hurt that he was attractive. So what if you flirted and hung out with them once in a blue moon. Young, Wild, and free. 

Again though JJ, JJ Maybank was it. You guys were without a doubt each other’s person. You weren’t going to make the first move you were gonna let JJ do it. Watching him mack on Tourons hurt but nothing your friends and some fun couldn’t fix. You and him were endgame anyways so why fret over what’s inevitable. That’s what you told yourself. You were confident and you definitely had that boy wrapped around your finger. Knowing each other’s quirks, body language, food taste, being each other’s other half you guys had mastered for a couple of years now. Up until recently the tides have shifted your guy’s love for each other grew in a way neither of you suspected but it didn’t change anything. Maybe more lingering touches, a couple more conscious forehead kisses or escorts home. Yet the blue-eyed angel still couldn’t make it official so you did what you do best tease him any chance you got. 

“D to the TF, got your bf in my DM, got him all up in my hair” You make your way over to where Popes sitting pointing your finger at him to join you and Kie. 

“No-No” Pope lets out moving to get up, you wink at Kie who is laughing at Popes wide-eyed frantic figure who finally figured out what the songs about while trying to maneuver in the small boat. You and Kie finally get pope stuck between you two “cause I can’t believe my eyes and her man between my thighs” you and Kie keep screaming. Peaking over Pope’s shoulder you see JJ watching you “And it’s clean but messy like a pizza” you sing right at him making eye contact, you see the blue-eyed boy shift uncomfortably in his seat adjusting his swim trunks, eyes locked on you. You wink at him and see pink dust his cheeks as he clears his throat. 

Turning to John B with a smile on your face makes Sarah squeal, “My boyfriend too y/n” she lets out, fake shock evident in her tone 

“Sorry Cameron I don’t have a boyfriend so I need to steal yours” you giggle holding your hand out for John B who has his hand over his heart and an awe look on his face flattered you chose him. He kisses Sarah on the forehead and stands up leading you next to Kie and Pope “If your down boy really down, Baby let me watch you go to town” you’re back is to John B’s chest dancing to the beat yelling out the lyrics, you feel John B place his hands on your waist and see Kie trying to get Sarah to join you guys. 

You feel heat on your waist and it's not John B’s hands, someones staring at you, looking over to JJ you see him glaring at John B’s hands holding onto your hips, guiding you to the beat. Rolling your eyes at JJ you huff, only JJ would get jealous over a guy who has a girlfriend and still not do anything about it. Pope went to go sit next to JJ since Kie left him to drag Sarah to dance before the song ended. You leave John B and dance your way over to Kie and Sarah. 

“No, No, No” Sarah squeals when you grab her wrist and Kie grabs the other you guys get her to stand up and push her to the front of the boat for the last chorus. Squishing Sarah between you and Kie you guys are lazily grinding on each other with the three boys sitting at the front of the boat whooping and hollering at your antics “let me see you go to town, baby, go to town yeah”

Making eye contact with JJ again you notice his tensed features, his jaws clenched and he’s biting his lip, his hairs messed up and you assume from him tugging on it. His eyes snap up to your face knowing he got caught checking you out he smirks opening his legs wider as if daring you to go to him and do your worst. 

“Baby let me watch you go to town,” you say making your way over to the boys, John B’s eyes widen hitting JJ on the shoulder “Oh my god” Pope lets out 

You make grabby hands to JJ, grabbing his hand that was covering his crotch innocently grazing his chest making pope let out a whistle, JJ stands up immediately taking your hand in his smirking while a goofy smile graces his features. You walk him to the middle of the boat turning your back to his chest and wrapping his arms around your waist immediately, you can feel his breath against your ear as he holds onto you tighter. Rocking your guy’s body’s together to the beat, you lean your head back and whisper into his ear “It’s your one chance, baby, never or now yeah” you hear him groan gripping you tighter if possible. Giggling you push your ass against his crotch and hear him gasp “Okay that’s it” He lets out with a clenched jaw and you unravel yourself from him and go back to dancing with Sarah and Kie again “Go down, go down, go down, Yeah let me see you go to town” Screaming when the songs over and the next one starts to play you guys laugh turning around looking at the boys who just sit there or stand in JJ’s case with a shocked expression 

“What the hell is wrong with you guys,” Kie asks crossing her arms, “You’re killing the buzz” she whines while Sarah walks over to John B and climbs in his lap causing you to laugh 

Pope clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out causing you and Kiara to laugh “Look y/n you broke Pope” and Pope looks offended 

“No, she didn’t,” Pope says but his voice cracked causing everyone to laugh 

“I haven’t seen y/n dance like that since the party with Rafe” Sarah comments teasingly and suddenly everyone gets quiet. Kie rolls her eyes at Sarah for even mentioning him 

“Okay, y’all act like you’ve never heard a song like that chill” you chuckle going to the cooler to grab a beer and take a drink

“No we have but like wow that was so-” Pope starts out with hand movements and everything but Kie shoots him a look raising her eyebrow 

“So what Pope?” She asks and you go to say something but JJ cuts you off 

“That was hot, like really hot not gonna lie I liked it, I liked it a lot actually” JJ speaks up from where he’s standing on the boat looking at you. John B hits him upside the head “Bro what the fuck” JJ lets out turning to look at John B

“Stop being gross” John B states matter of factly “They’re having fun they don’t need a perv ruining it”

You give them a confused look “Okay I’m going to swim, coming Kie?” You ask as she nods. Diving into the marsh instantly cools off your body, you hear Kie jump in after you. Swimming to the other side of the boat. The boys and Sarah out of view you hear Kie next to you 

“So JJ is still a dumbass” she huffs out rolling her eyes in the direction of JJ. Giggling at her you shake your head and she goes to speak up about his failed attempt to get down with you to Doja Cat when you guys hear JJ whisper shout trying to be quiet, you shoot a look to Kie and raise a finger to your lips telling her to be quiet while she nods

“Okay I stand corrected that was hot. Pope you should be worried about Kie leaving you for y/n did you see the way Kie went in after her” JJ lets out a whistle and you and Kie giggle quietly moving your arms around to make it seem like y’all are still swimming 

“Shut up” Pope lets out exasperated

“No Pope listen I’m serious that was so hot like y/n dived flawlessly she’s perfect and the way Kie followed right after her like girl on girl action it just-” 

You snorted looking over at Kie who had an eyebrow raised, you made kissy faces at her until she splashed you. You could imagine JJ using his hands to emphasize his point 

“You’re disgusting JJ” you heard Sarah let out which caused you and Kie to start giggling until you heard a splash of water assuming it was Sarah. You and Kie swam a little ways from the boat to not give away that you two were snooping 

“Great, you pissed off Sarah great going JJ” you could faintly hear John B huff 

“What guys I’m being honest, you’re gonna tell me that wasn’t even a little bit hot,” JJ asks and you can see his arms extended out 

“Okay JJ yes but we don’t say that shit out loud” you hear Pope mumble. Your head shot straight to Kie who has a shocked expression on her face at Popes sudden small outburst and then to Sarah 

“You little snakes you heard them” Sarah gasps out 

“Sarah shut up oh my god, it’s so fun to tease them” you flick water at her and head to swim back to the boat seeing John B and Pope join the girls in the water. The water had done its job cooling you off you wanted to tan. 

Climbing back into the boat you hear a whistle coming from JJ “Take a picture it’ll last longer” you let out reaching for your towel to dry off 

“Only if you let me take pictures of the entire view and” he pauses popping the ‘and’ while pointing his finger at you “you stay wet” JJ lets out biting his lip as you shoot him a fake glare. He’s reaching for your waist and you let him pull you to sit down between his legs 

You pout “I wanted to tan” 

“To bad come keep me company” he smiles pulling you down, kissing the crown of your forehead nothing unusual but it didn't stop the butterflies from forming in the pit of your stomach 

“How you feeling,” You ask him as he wraps a towel around your figure before wrapping his arms around you. Knowing he didn’t get in the water because of his recent fight with his dad. His bruises were taking a little longer to heal than normal and he didn’t want anyone worrying about him. You helped apply cream to them but he couldn’t stay out of trouble long enough for it to heal properly. 

“I’m perfect right now” he hums in content and you move to look up at him, his chin is resting in the crook of your shoulder and his eyes are closed, his arms wrapped across your torso holding you close to his chest. The sun is hitting his face perfectly making his blonde locks glow and there’s a sense of calm he holds. He looks content, at peace and all you could ever ask for was this boy to feel all the love in the world and a part of you hoped he felt that with you. Placing a soft kiss on his chin you feel him shift, you turn your body to watch the rest of the Pogues in the water. They’re having a splash war and you can’t help but let out a giggle at the girls trying to take down John B. 

“You missed,” JJ says 

“Missed what?” You ask confused eyes still on your friends in the water

“You missed” He lets out annoyed at the lack of attention you’re paying to him

“JJ what the fuck are you-” His hand grabs your chin turning you to him quickly cutting you off and his lips are on yours. 

Your lips melt into his instantly. His hand goes to hold the side of your face in his hand, tilting your head a bit to deepen the kiss. You feel like your heart is going to fall out of your chest. His other hand goes to pinch your ass as you let out a gasp he uses that as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. Attempting to fight for dominance you gladly let him win. He tasted like beer and spearmint with a hint of weed he probably smoked earlier. It was addicting. 

Pulling away for a quick second he groans, his eyes still closed you can see him rolling his eyes like breaking away from him was the end of the world. You place quick pecks onto his lips while moving to straddle his lap, you feel him smirk against you. Pulling you closer to him, he has one hand on your ass holding you to him and the other holding the side of your cheek to keep you close, you pull his bottom lip into your mouth sucking on it as he groans. Pulling away reluctantly both of his hands find their way to the bottom of your ass. 

Opening your eyes looking at him he sits with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face, eyes closed, lips red and swollen. He looks like a kid in a candy store and you can’t help but let out a giggle. Placing your hands on either side of his neck you lean into him and place a couple of kisses on his lips he happily partakes in and you can feel his smile widening if even possible. Pulling away you’re met with blue eyes and a smirk. You lean up to place a kiss on his forehead as soon as you place it there his face nuzzles into your boobs and you can’t help but laugh and he groans “you’re so perfect, fuck” he speaks into your skin playfully biting your chest

Tangling your hand in his hair behind his neck, you gently pull him away from your boobs, he leans in planting another kiss on you quickly “I like this” he places another kiss on your lips “I like this a lot” he whispers to you as you break away for the third time. 

Trying to chase his lips with yours you nod at him “Yeah?” you smirk tugging at the hair gently on the back of his neck, tilting your head a little more back feigning innocent while he groans moving his hands to hold the side of your face to keep you from moving away any further 

Something flashes across his face you haven’t seen before causing you to furrow your eyebrows together and then his eyes go soft and the way he’s looking at you makes you want to melt into a puddle “Yeah I like this a lot actually” he breaths out in a sincere whisper placing a kiss on your nose, you scrunch it up as he places gentle kisses all over your face until you’re pushing his face away to stop him you guys are both left laughing, He plays with a few strands of your hair just looking at you as if he’s trying to remember every little detail as if he didn’t know it by heart already 

“Um what are you guys doing,” Pope asks from the side of the boat with a questionable look only Pope could make

“Pope what the fuck man” JJ lets out pinching the bridge of his nose glaring at him. You move to get up and grab JJ another beer, noticing John b climb into the boat as well. “Can’t you see I’m trying to make magic happen” JJ gestures towards your standing finger and you scoff placing a hand on your hip

“You’re gonna need a lot of magic JJ little Pookie here has a wide range of options” John B teases knowing JJ gets all defensive when your other affiliated party is mentioned the Kooks

“She’s mine and everyone knows it” JJ scoffs crossing his arms making his biceps bulge a little bit 

“My brother doesn’t” Sarah chimes in climbing into the boat next to you and you try to stifle your laugh at JJ fuming. Kie climbs aboard and starts arguing with JJ alongside Sarah about the logistics of a relationship and what that entails. You’re sure you hear something about ownership and women’s rights and you can’t help but smile at your friends being idiots

John B pats the seat next to him for you to sit down, clinking his beer with yours or was suppose to be JJ’s “Salud” he chuckles ruffling your hair “I think Pookie is finally a Poguie, we can talk about custody over him later” he jokes 

“No” you hear JJ say over the music holding his hand to Kie’s face to shush her while pointing a finger over at the two of you “actually, she had full custody the entire time” you hear JJ shout over Kie trying to shove JJ in the water 

“Whose pussy whipped now,” John B asks him raising an eyebrow making everyone burst into laughter and Pope lets out a low whistle

“I don’t know ask Rafe-” JJ started which earned a shocked expression from you that lasted 2 seconds and a knowing look from Sarah before Kie finally pushed him over the edge and into the marsh resulting in a gasp from him and a content smiley Kiara

“I’m sure Rafe would gladly go to town with y/n, he’ll take his one chance” Kie yelled towards him and a bunch of “oohs” come from everyone before she continues “Hmm actually let's put that on the playlist for the kegger tonight see what prince Kook wants to do with princess Pookie” She goes to put her hand on her chin pouting her lips earning a nod from Pope  

“That's it you’re dead” JJ pushes himself up into the boat and immediately grabs onto Kie throwing her back into the marsh, turning around he headed straight for Sarah 

“JJ no, JJ-” Sarah screams out when he nears her “John B I swear if you let him-” but it's too late JJ is holding her bridal style in his arms tossing her over into the marsh 

“Sorry Kook you’re related to the guy can’t have you spying on us revealing intel” He salutes the two girls in the water going to sit in between your legs on the floor of the boat, his back against the seat

“Yeah he’s pussy whipped” Pope states pointing a finger towards you guys, JJ fake glares at him taking off his cut tank that is now soaked due to Kie pushing him in. Hoping it'll dry before the kegger tonight, you wrap a towel around his wet figure playing with his blonde hair and placing a kiss on the top of his head 

“Jokes on you Pope” JJ starts shooting him a look “I’m about to be treated like a king” JJ leans back shaking his wet hair into your lap which causes a groan from John B who was in the splash zone “Beer me women” he shouts holding his arms out earning a smack to his chest from John B, rolling your eyes you hand him the beer that was originally intended for him. He raises the bottle as the girls climb into the boat glaring at him. A shit eating grin on his face “Salud” which earns a chorus of saluds back and a “how does he do it” from Pope causing everyone to burst into laughter while he starts the boat up to head back to the chateau.

The sun, the water, your boy and friends. Pogue style. 

______

A/N: this is my first jj writing and she isn’t edited v much I wanted to get it out bc this idea has been in my head and I think about it every time I listen to the song, and its on my summer playlist rip. This could be a two parter? the ending was kinda meh because I was torn between dragging it out and giving it an ending. Either way I hope you enjoyed it. Any feedback or commentary is welcomed my inbox is always open, I hope yall are staying safe Xx

[minkmousesworld]

Hi! I was scrolling through your blog and oh mah lord its amazing 🥺. May I request a forest!au raccoon dog!Tanjiro x snow leopard!reader where the reader is injured, crying and shaking and Tanjiro is trying to calm them down? It's Oki if you can't! I hope you're staying safe and hydrated! Also, don't forget to take breaks bby 🤍

- 🌌

hello, honeymouse♡ thank you for your request! I wasn't sure exactly how you wanted it done, so I left it to my choice. I hope you like it! thank you so much for being so sweet. don't forget to rest and drink water♡

⌞ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱɴᴏᴡꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ⌝

𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢: forest au

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: UST, comforting, mention of blood (wounds), mention of panic, mention of escape

𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤(𝔰): raccoon dog! Tanjirou Kamado x snow leopard! Reader

writer's note: as I was advised, after I completed the request, I fell asleep... and recently I woke up because of the alarm clock, which I put on "just in case". and I realized that I didn't publish. ouch. also! it's so cute when you use au names(´ ω `♡)

Winter.

In your home, in the mountains, it was almost always winter. Pure snow lay on the mountains, untouched by the hot sun or the footprints of others; except that mountain goats and other snow leopards touched it. And you were comfortable with such a neighborhood.

Down below, it was different. Even the air here wasn't as clean, but it was easier to breathe in. You'd even enjoy it.

If only your lungs weren't burning from running for so long.

When you stepped on the fresh snow with your broad paws, you left shallow, bloody footprints, which the snowfall immediately covered up, covering your tracks. It was hard to move, every step was like stepping on sharp stones, but you tried to get as far away as possible, limping and gasping for breath.

Even if you had no idea where this road would lead you.

The wind began to howl even rougher, driving you forward in icy gusts. The blood flowed more slowly, took on a maroon color and froze on you in thin lines. Even the thick fur didn't help with the cold, which was chilling to the bone.

It seemed that with each breath of frosty, dead air, everything inside you cooled and froze. Trapped in the forest, you had no idea where to go to find shelter.

Running away from one death led you to another. You tried to wipe away the tears that had gathered in your eyes and prevented you from seeing further.

Too much stress.

You snuggled up against the tree and buried your nose in the bark, catching your breath. Memories of the past flashed slowly before your eyes, as if frozen. The moment when you were born, when you lived in a cave; when your mother first took you on a Groundhog hunt; when she said that "a good Snow leopard always knows their snow, and a bad Snow leopard dies in the mud".

When she left and you were alone, surrounded by snow and caves. It wasn't something painful, although at first it was unusual to realize that the only reason you might want to see other snow leopards is "mating season". But soon moving forward, finding a cave to sleep in, and getting food was all you cared about.

While the inhabitants of the forest built burrows, formed pairs and hid from the rains and snows, you ran around the mountains, balanced between cliffs and killed future food, sometimes breaking down from the mountains with prey in your teeth, just to make sure that you would have food.

Until They came.

Wrapping a long tail around your leg, you tried to hide from the wind behind a thick trunk with the last of your strength. They smelled of blood and dead things, and you were running faster than you knew what was happening. That alone saved your life.

"Strangers always bring trouble" — that's what your mother told you. She was a very wise snow leopard. [If you had the strength left, you would hope that They didn't reach her, she deserved more].

You put your arms around your shoulders, hugged your knees to your chest, and hid your face in them. The wind will soon stop, and you will be able to find food for yourself. Then go back... there will be no strangers there. You hope for this and that you will find your way back.

Your eyes were uncomfortably close from crying, and your cheeks ached from the cold. It was morning by your biological clock, the time when it was time for you to fall asleep in a cave, tucked into a strategically advantageous corner.

Your head was spinning — from the other air, from the cold, or from fear, you didn't know. The body that had carried you forward on pure fear and lust for life was now a weak meat that needed to rest. Perhaps a little sleep will help you feel better ... Thick fur will protect you from frostbite, frozen wounds from the cold will not disturb.

The wind became weaker. You were sure that by the time you woke up, there would be no wind at all, or it would be very weak. The spirits of the Mountains are merciful to those who need their mercy.

But you couldn't rest.

The smell (pleasant, tart, a stranger) suddenly came up to you. Following the smell, you heard the soft rasp of snow. Something was creeping up on you.

They. They found you.

You didn't understand when you abruptly got to your feet, one paw gripping the trunk of a tree to keep from falling, and when your body became so weak that the sudden rise made you dizzy. It wasn't important.

Your entire body was focused on the outsider, who, meanwhile, was in no hurry to come out of hiding. It was sitting in a thicket of thin branches, and at first you thought you were imagining it.

Before something jerked their ear and you froze in horror. Your throat is parched from the cold; even if you could speak, what would you do? Purred?

Your fingers ached, and you knew that with claws as broken as yours, you would rather catch on to this creature than scratch it. Run away? But where? What if it gets you faster?

Meanwhile, the creature twitched its ear again and... crawled out. It looked a little like a gopher: round, small ears; intelligent, curious eyes. Only the color of this creature was dark, which made it perfectly hide in the bushes and near the trees, but it looked like a bright spot against the background of snow.

When it came out of hiding, looking timidly at you, you didn't move.

It (he? she? the creature looked androgynous, and you didn't understand what gender it was) looked defenseless and tiny, like a weak herbivore that was attracted by an unfamiliar smell. So it wasn't a threat.

Herbivores do not attack without provocation.

But it began to come closer, coming too aggressively fast in front of the bushes.

"Shhh...", the creature stretched out its arms, "it's fine…"

And you staggered back in horror and fell to the snow. The creature paused, letting you catch your breath a few times before starting to get closer. Tears began to gather in his eyes again, making the creature blurry.

But you didn't even try to wipe away the tears.

"Don't cry... It's okay… Don't be afraid of me…"

The creature stretched out its arms. Checkered clothes, hair in a short ponytail, short stature. If you run now, it might catch up. Better to bite. Poor view to aim at the neck.

Even if the review was good, you wouldn't jump at it. Just running.

But it seems to have understood your intentions.

"Wait! I really---"

You immediately rushed back, but fell due to weakness in your hands.

The tears began to gather in her eyes even faster. Your chest ached even more, and you couldn't stand it anymore, sobbing, shaking, trying to crawl as far away as possible. Your body ached for pain and resentment, for your weakness, but your mind screamed that it would devour you, strangers bring only trouble.

The creature stopped. Then it reached into the bag (which, it turns out, was behind its back), and took out something.

Meat.

"You must be hungry," it said softly. "I just want to feed you. Will you let me?"

You couldn't take your eyes off the meat. Not yet frozen, large… you were sure you could smell it. Your body began to whine about hunger, your mind was silent.

"Here, food… I'll just come over to give, okay? I'll leave right away"

The creature crouched, became even smaller and more defenseless, and slowly began to come closer. When it was at the minimum safe distance, it carefully threw a piece of meat closer to you. And then it went away, as promised; timidly (I think, even with regret) looked at you and... went behind the bushes.

And you were left alone. The meat was softer than you thought, but a little bitter. Maybe it was a little rude to chase the creature away like that. On the other hand, what if it was afraid of your reaction and therefore ran away? You just wanted to protect yourself.

With such thoughts, having been sated and warmed, you fell asleep. And even the wounds seemed to hurt less.

◇◇◇

You didn't know what you were dreaming about. The dreams were vague and frightening, and you couldn't get out of them. The images became more eerie and bloody, the sounds grew louder and higher, and you felt trapped.

The only thing that calmed you down was the gentle melody you heard when things got particularly creepy. It was as if there was no escape. Like everything was fine.

The spirits of the Mountains are merciful to those who endure all trials with fortitude, and send their helpers. Sometimes, in your dreams, that creature appeared — with a gentle smile, which said that everything was fine.

And you believed it.

And then they fell back into oblivion.

◇◇◇

You woke up in a warm place.

Earthy air and little light... it was a hole. And you would have rushed up to find the owner and find out what you were doing here, but your body was too weak and your mind was too exhausted. You took a deep breath and looked up. Definitely a hole.

"Good morning", you heard a gentle whisper nearby. "Are you feeling better?"

And after a couple of seconds, next to you sat... a creature.

There was silence. He (up close you could see that it was a rather cute boy) looked you over tenaciously before he began his monologue again:

"You had serious injuries, so I brought you to my house", he raised his head, looking around as if for the first time, "do you like it? Not as cozy as my family's burrow, but after I became an adult, I tried to recreate the same atmosphere at home..."

The boy turned to you with a sunny smile.

"My name is Tanjirou. I am one of the raccoon dogs, Kie's son. You probably haven't heard of me… But I'm still happy to see new residents in the forest! It is sometimes quite lonely here, especially during heavy snows. It's a great stroke of luck that I managed to find you! You're so inconspicuous in the snow!"

Tanjirou paused, looking at you. You only nodded weakly, supporting the monologue.

"You're not from around here, are you? From somewhere in the mountains? I... ", the boy suddenly fell silent.

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter where you're from, I'm glad to see you anyway! You can stay with me as long as you want, but I won't let you leave until your body is healed! It's important to take care of yourself, you know? And take care of each other too! We're all friends!"

He looked at you kindly again.

"You're lucky you were able to come down. When I saw you, your wounds were monstrous… You're very strong… Is that what I was talking about? Oh, yes! In the forest…"

And under his quiet, lulling voice, talking about all sorts of nonsense, you involuntarily fell asleep. Only at the edge of consciousness did you feel a light, soft kiss on the forehead, and a quiet "sweet dreams" before falling asleep.

◇◇◇

Tanjirou kept his promise and nursed you for a long time until you looked like a healthy snow leopard.

He constantly brought you food and water; changed your bandages and smeared your wounds with medicinal herbs; helped you warm up your muscles when you were finally able to get out of bed on your own. He massaged your shoulders and didn't ask what happened. During bouts of fever, he brought down the temperature, sometimes sat with you at night and gently held your hand, even if you convinced him that you could handle it yourself!

Tanjirou just shook his head, refusing, and did not move away.

◇◇◇

"The season of flowers is here", Tanjirou once told you, as you were doing muscle exercises, preparing to get completely out of his care. "The snows are gone. You?.."

You gave him a curious look.

Tanjirou hesitated uncomfortably and looked away.

"Recently… I mean, you don't look like that anymore...", Tanjirou took a deep breath, and continued quietly: "I mean… Are you planning on leaving?"

You didn't even have to turn your heads to know which face he asked it with.

Sometimes Tanjirou looked like a real puppy.

[tetrakys]

Eldarya A New Era - episodes 1 and 2

Let’s start with a brief recap and then my comments at the end.

Not much happens plot-wise, which makes sense since the first chapters are always about exposition and introducing the characters.

Episode 1: 

We wake up in the new Crystal room and are swiftly taken by Huang Hua to the infirmary, we are perfectly healthy and have a chance to meet one of our old friends. Since we have been revered as a deity for the past 7 year sin the Crystal, Huang Hua has to make an announcement to the whole HQ saying that we are back into the living world, then we can finally explore HQ, meet old and new friends, get a new outfit and later attend a party in our honour. This is pretty much the plot of the first episode. 

Episode 2:

In the second we have the chance of picking a Guard to belong to, Huang offered the Light one but Erika refuses because she doesn’t feel ready yet. We also get a new sword that Jamon has created for us and we can train a bit with him, afterwards we join a mission and go the forest. Once there we realise there is something wrong, as if some areas looked corrupted. We find a hurt companion and a very human shotgun bullet next to it and an evil-looking companion who attacks us causing us to end our very first mission at the infirmary, as usual. Once we are back on our feet we talk to Huang Hua about the bullet and realise that there is something she is hiding from us, then we help Ewe making a potion to save the companion. The companion got attached to us so we decide to adopt it.

Now a bit of info dump about the characters:

Huag Hua is the new head of the guard since Miiko went back to her family obligations. She is no longer the Phoenix apprentice although we don’t know why yet, she is in a romantic committed relationship with Ewelein who is still the head of the infirmary and member of the Light Guard. 

Aleja and Sonse got married and left, Colaja joined them and she and Jamon broke up since he stayed. He was sad for a bit but then got over it. Kero left when most people left no one knows where he is. Ezarel left with Twilda and Mary Anne to try to make a new life for themselves. Memoria disappeared and no one knows what happened to it and all the dragon spirits. Karuto is still he chef and he became much nicer in time, also is food much better after fruits and vegetables in Eldarya became edible. There is speculation about his relationship with Feng Zifu who is still very polite but much older looking, however nothing confirmed yet.

Huang Chu is the new head of the Absynth Guard, she looks and acts kinda strict and matter-of-factly but she is also surprisingly open-minded, she encourages Erika to think with her own head and never blindly accept anyone’s order not even her own. She doesn’t get along with Mathieu at all.

Koori is a kitsune member of the Absynth Guard, she is funny, provocative and flirty. She wants to become friend with Erika and even flirts a bit. We see her both flirting with and mercilessly teasing Mathieu, not sure if she’s actually hitting on him or playing him, but this seems to be her normal behaviour. 

Chrome is now the head of the Shadow Guard, he and Karenn are still together and while he is the official head it seems that she is his boss as usual so hierarchy is a bit blurry. The both became more mature in time, she is less into gossip and he went through a rough self-blaming patch, but he looks pretty happy right now, eating a lot and constantly making lame jokes, and she seems to have become a real fighter (everyone is recommending to never train with her).

Adalric is a sylph, Erika comments he kinda looks like a genie. He has constantly his head in the clouds forgetting all the most trivial tasks, he talks with the stars and the wind apparently.

Ophelia is this little girl we see for just a moment, we feel that she has the same aura as the Oracle, we hug her but she just smile and leaves. We are told she showed up after the White Sacrifice and no one actually knows anything about her, not even if she sleeps and eats and where. 

Mathieu is a human who stumbled in a mushroom cricle about one year ago, he was sort of a recluse with no friends nor family on Earth, only thinking about fantasy and adventure, so he is very happy to be in Eldarya and couldn’t care less about going back to Earth. To his dismay the test assigned him to the Absynth Guard and he’s constantly hoping to be reassigned to the Obsidian instead. He’s the happy-go-lucky type but seems to also have a certain depth that we will hopefully find out.

Nevra is now a member of the Light Guard and Huang Hua’s right hand (he basically got Leiftan’s old job). He looks more severe and it seems that the events of S1 hardened him. He is back to his slutty ways but in episode he admits frivolous relationships don’t bring him happiness. 

Leiftan got out of the Crystal with us but it took longer for him to wake up. He says that he needs to find himself and wants to put distance between him and everyone else, in fact he refuses to rejoin the Guard. When Erika asks him to train her aengel powers he refuses and says that he won’t ever touch a blade again and will never be responsible of further violence. Nevra can’t stand him at the moment because he thinks he is escaping his responsibilities. 

COMMENTS:

Since people liked the expression I’m going to repeat it again, let’s address the elephant in the room first. (Guys “elephant in the room” is a figure of speech, it’s not a real elephant lol).  No one mentioned who is the head of the Obsidian Guard, when Erika tries to ask one time the subject is swiftly changed and people seem to go out of their way to not go there. Everyone, including their grandparents, their cousins, neighbours and the cousins of their neighbours has figured out that the head of Obsidian is Lance, who is name dropped constantly. I know that there are some people who still like to live in denial, kudos to them. BV all but told me that Lance is coming in episode 3 before Christmas, the release pace is like MCL’s so I’m expecting episodes every second Wednesday of the month at this point, but we’ll see.

The situation with Nevra and Leiftan is heavy not gonna lie. I’ve only played the episode with Nevra so far and my heart broke in tiny pieces, but I want to savour the angst and enjoy the ride. I don’t blame either of the two, Leiftan went from traitor to saviour in a matter of what two days? He had not time to think about his choices and properly reflect on himself. I think it’s fair that the writing his giving him a bit of depth as a character now and not just using him for his abs and to kill and save people when needed. So yeah, I approve him going to therapy or whatever is going to do to achieve self-growth. 

Nevra is a bit trickier, he spent one year moping in front of the Crystal every day, then moved on simply out of survival, and he’s well aware that the life he has now brings him no joy so one would think he would jump into Erika’s arms immediately? He is probably still very much hurting about everything that happened and he still has a fight or flight reaction about everything regarding it, his subconscious reaction when he saw Erika must have been DANGERDANGER RUN. Sleep around is easier because he doesn’t care and can’t be hurt again. While I can understand this, I also think it’s pretty cowardly and I would’ve liked to have given the reaction to get mad, to demand him to spend time with us, because yes he hurt but we spent 7 freaking years in a coma and no time has passed for us, the day before we were swearing love to each other and now this coldness. And yes I could’ve chosen angrier options with him instead of being understanding, but then my LoM would’ve dropped. 

So what I think I’m trying to say is that I would like to have the option of getting mad without having devastating consequences on all the relationships. I know that the next episode is called Rage-something so I am hoping Erika will blow up. We are probably going to run into Lance, find out that he’s been forgiven and working with the Guard and go full violent mode. And hopefully she will get mad with the other guys as well. Homegirl needs to unleash since episode 13 AT LEAST.

Also, since Leiftan refused to train her, I’m expecting that Lance will at some point. Sweaty training sessions with a strict instructor who she kinda hates but also kinda thirst for... 😏😏😏 I have expectations now.

My general comment is that I like the writing so far, I see much improvement from the previous season although it’s too early to judge. I loved the shade thrown at Miiko and the Guard test, you can really tell the writer’s thoughts sometimes, he uses Mathieu to tell us what he thinks. 

The one think I didn’t like is that, while I can understand most of the choices and the events of these two episodes, I don’t understand how the writing can justify Erika not looking for Ezarel if she were on her route. No time has passed for her, anyone would go looking for their lover in a situation like this, not just “oh well, he’s gone”. I know he can’t be brought back, but give me a good, logical reason in game. (Also, I hope to never see him and Valkyon as secondary non-datable characters because I would die inside).

About the other characters, I like Koori and Huang Chu, I don’t like Adalric, just personal taste, he seems to be the type of person who would be into yoga and spiritualism and it’s just not me at all lol.