#i studied 26 hours this week and it's still not enough

[maenecoon]

just a lil fic i'd worked on in around august/sept... god do i miss writing >~<

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch 26]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.6k

ao3 link

Depression is a funny little emotion.

It starts as a seed planted in your stomach by some inconsequential action that slowly grows throughout the day until it is strangling you. Tendrils sprout and creep up your sternum, creeping through your airway and constricting your lungs, making it just a little harder to breathe. Your chest feels tight and no amount of closing your eyes and counting slowly will make the feeling go away. The vines go for your heart next - weaving between the arteries and veins and squeezing until you are hyper aware of every beat it makes. 

You know you cannot let anyone know what germinates inside of you, so for hours and hours and hours do you pretend you can function properly. You ignore how heavy your heart feels or how much your throat stings. You turn off the urge to cry and scream and beg because you know there is no point to it. There is no relief. No amount of comfort will free you from the jungle forming inside of you. All you can do is wait.

Wait until you are finally alone, and the growth is finally allowed to bloom in your brain. Thorns pierce you, pumping their poison into your thoughts. Sap leaks from your eyes as stems force their way up your throat until leaves sprout from your mouth. You are consumed from the inside out until you are a hollow husk of a person.

And who would want to be around that?

Who would want you?

No one is the answer.

 It has always been no one. 

Your parents were the first to show you the truth. There was no care or comfort in your childhood - you were set aside and ignored.

You’ve never blamed them for this. As much as it hurt and as much as it messed with your self-worth, you’ve always understood they were not meant to be parents. You are sure they loved you in their own way, but the lack of affection left your soul to wilt.

College was no better. You made a few friends but quickly learned the meaning of superficial. They did not have time for your awkwardness and personal issues - this was their time to grow and blossom. So, you buried yourself in your studies and were always grateful when they were kind enough to invite you somewhere. 

When you started having romantic relationships they warped your mind even more. A few sweet words would lure you in, then you would become a caretaker and a warm body. Their needs were always top priority and yours were never to be acknowledged. You were strung along to a breaking point or told you were no longer needed, even when you were still heart eyed over them.

A few rounds of this showed you your niche in the world. 

You’re a background character. A friend of a friend’s girlfriend. A one-night stand. Minnie’s mom. 

You don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. You are meant to assist others - meant to raise your daughter to her full potential. 

You’ve long accepted this, which makes it all that much harder when Matt smiles at you like he does. 

You believe he cares for you - he is full of love - but you know there isn’t anything deeper in it. 

You are the mother of his child, a child he is head over heels for - it is natural for him to grow affectionate towards you. He finds you physically and sexually attractive and you yearn for that.

But you know you are nothing but a placeholder.

You have his attention now and you want to bask in it, but next week, next year, or maybe in two years, that attention will move onto someone who deserves it. Someone who is exciting as he is - someone who is smart and passionate. Someone who understands his life and what being Daredevil entails. Someone who cares about the injustices on the streets and does something about it.

Someone who isn’t broken. 

Someone who isn’t a shell going through the motions. 

Someone who isn’t you.

You want to cover your ears and pretend you don’t know the truth. You want to bury yourself in the three little words you thought you heard, but you know you can’t. 

You can’t do that to yourself again. You can’t handle another heartbreak. Another disappointment.

Another reminder you are Nothing. 

You can allow yourself to enjoy your time - enjoy the touches and kisses and moans - but your heart must remain locked away. 

Matt can have all of you but that. If you allow yourself to have hope it will hurt all the more when you have to let him go. 

And you’ll let him go easily when that time comes. You’ll step aside without a fight because his relationship with Minnie is more important than you will ever be, and you are not going to be the reason for a rift between them. You are not going to deny Matt time with his daughter because his destiny is with someone else. 

It will hurt, but it has never mattered if you hurt.

You just want them to be happy.

----

The progress bar on your screen is finally full and you now have the option to select ‘continue with install’. You click on the button, then warily eye your laptop as new windows pop up with technical information you do not care about. 

Work is pushing a bunch of new updates through their system, and because you are remote, you have to play IT to get your machine up to spec. They sent you an email with everything you need to do, which is to sit back and click a few prompts, but they failed to mention the process would take hours and that your laptop would be useless during that time. 

It is nearing two in the morning, and you are starting to run out of steam and patience. 

Between installs and reboots, you have cleaned pretty much everything in your apartment that you could without risking waking Minnie up. You did dishes and dusted. You cleaned out the pantry and washed the windows. You even swept the carpet to get out any lingering dog hair.

You’ve tried to sit and watch something, but it left you fidgety and you couldn’t pay attention to what was being said and you had no chance in hell of following a plot. You attempted to play around on your phone, but you became angry at yourself for not having the funds to buy things that were advertised to you. After Minnie’s birthday and your hospital bill, your bank account was getting dangerously low.

You want to turn off your brain and do your job. You don’t have to Think when combing through orders and producing invoices. 

You don’t want to Think anymore. You are so tired of Thinking. 

You slump into your chair and bury your face into your hands. You’ve got no way to calculate how much longer all this technical setup is going to take or how much longer you are going to have to stay up. The only relief you have is knowing you are being paid for this time, since the email specifically told you to be on the clock while running everything. 

You debate going over to the couch and trying to nap. You could set an alarm so you can periodically check on your computer, but you might disturb your sleeping toddler. The alert could be set to vibrate only, but would that wake you up if you really fell asleep?

Your only solution is to stay awake and try to find something to do to distract yourself. 

As you start to consider deep cleaning the linen closet, your phone lights up with a call from an unsaved number. It takes but a moment for you to recognize the sequence and your heart leaps into your throat as you answer.

“Hello?”

“You’re up late,” Matt teases as a greeting, his voice a few octaves lower than normal and sending a delightful sort of chill up your spine. “Working hard?”

“Hardly working,” you groan in response, but the mere fact he is calling has your lips turning up into a small smile. “My computer is doing updates and I’m waiting for it to finish. It’s been going for hours.”

Matt hums in sympathy and you wonder if he is just getting home. The fact he is a superhero is still very hard for your mind to wrap around. Sweet Matt, who lets his daughter put star stickers all over his face, is the same man who so routinely breaks people’s arms that local ER staff have a monthly betting pool about it - a little fact you learned from Karen. The man in videos dangling someone off a high rise or a bridge is the same man who becomes a clingy octopus when asleep. 

You understand his need to protect the city and you admire it, but fear and uncertainty gather in your belly when you think about Matt out on the rooftops. You are terrified of him getting hurt, despite the fact you trust him and his abilities. You know there is always a bigger threat out there as well as the possibility of an accident. Matt may be amazing, but he can’t fight a random act of God.

Three light knocks from behind you rip your thoughts and you turn in your chair to see Daredevil, in all his red suit glory, standing on your fire escape. He cheekily waves at you as he snaps his flip phone shut and stores it in a hidden pocket. You scramble up and over to the window, yanking it open. He waits patiently, though a bit smugly by the smirk on his lips, as you figure out how to remove the screen. He climbs through with ease and once he is inside, he starts removing his gloves and helmet.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you close the window again. You aren’t opposed to him coming by, but this is the first time he’s done so, and you aren’t exactly sure of the protocol. Is it a social visit? Does he have some Daredevil news to share with you?

Before he replies, he shakes his head much like a wet dog would. His hair is damp with sweat and the skin that was previously covered is glistening. There is a slight tint of red to his usual paleness and you wonder if he is hot to the touch as well. You try not to squirm at the thought.

“I always check on you before ending patrol,” he finally says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. He sets his helmet, gloves, and batons on the window-blocking table, then steps to you, reaching up to cup your cheeks when close enough. “I need to make sure my girls are okay.” 

The words come out of him so easily and you want to melt into them like you do with his touch, but your mind is quick to remind you that you’ve given him reason to have to check up on you. This isn’t him being sweet - it is him making sure you haven’t somehow managed to kill yourself. 

Before you can mentally chastise yourself and pull away, Matt is closing the distance. He brings you into a sweet and slow kiss and for a few wonderful moments, your mind goes quiet. His lips are so soft against yours and you can just barely taste the salt from the sweat that has dripped down his face. It ends far too soon, and you try to tell yourself you are not disappointed.

Your thoughts kick back into hyper drive, and as you notice how damp Matt’s hair really is you imagine he would appreciate some cold water. You gently pull away from him, turning as you do to head towards the kitchen. 

“Did anything interesting happen tonight?”

“Nothing out of the usual,” he answers as he moves to follow you. “There was a kid breaking into cars that stuck out, though. He should probably be on his school’s track team if he isn’t already - he made me work to be able to catch him. It was actually a little impressive.”

That would explain the sweat then. It is already warm out and racing through the streets in leather sounds exhausting. It makes you want to shower just hearing about it.

You find Matt’s designated cup and fill it using the pitcher in the fridge. As you pass it over to him, you question, “what did you do once you caught him?”

He doesn’t answer, instead taking the water and downing it all in just a few gulps. Since it is clear he is in need of it, you quickly refill the glass.

“I gave him a warning and let him go,” Matt says after taking another sip, “He seemed like a good kid just getting into the wrong things. I think being chased by the Devil will scare him off crime, at least for a while.”

That warms your heart a little - you like Matt’s sense of justice and how he does not have a hard stance on what is black and white. He truly wants to help the community and not rule it. 

You have to turn away as he drinks his second glass of water. You want those brief moments of mental silence back and watching his throat work only makes you want to kiss him again. You think he wouldn’t mind it if you threw yourself at him, but it isn’t the time or place, and honestly you are a bit scared of the idea that has that kind of effect on you. 

It is something to crave and ask for and get addicted to. If he can turn off your brain so easily, all you will want to do is touch him.

Ever on high alert, you see Matt roll his neck and shoulders as he goes to put his glass into the sink. The movements look a little stiff and anxiety takes hold as you hyper analyze every movement he makes, “Are you alright?”

He pauses at the question, clearly confused by it. He tilts his head back and forth in minute ways like he does when he’s searching for something before answering you. 

“Why do you ask?”

You feel yourself start to flush at the counter, feeling a little silly. If there was anything actually wrong with him, he has a competent nurse on call, but you can’t stop your worry. It courses through you like your blood and you know it will fester and nag if you have any doubt. But you are still hesitant as you vaguely motion to your own neck, “I don’t know, you were out all night. I just…I want to make sure you’re, okay?”

You know that Matt is analyzing you, listening for something you’ll never hear. His lips dip into a frown for a microsecond before lifting up into that soft, beautiful smile you are becoming so fond of. “I’m fine, darling. Just a little stiff is all. It’s hard to have good posture when crouching on a rooftop.”

You take in the words, and you can easily picture Matt on the edge of a building, sitting like a gargoyle. It does ease your own tension that he isn’t injured, but your head just keeps spinning. 

Matt came all the way into Chelsea to check on you, the least you could do is make it worth his while. Offering yourself up for sex doesn’t feel appropriate at the moment, but you have more up your sleeve than just that.

The words tumble out of you before the idea is fully formed, “Do you want a massage?”

The shock on Matt’s face is nearly priceless. His brows shoot up his forehead and his mouth parts just slightly and a small voice in the back of your head wonders if anyone has ever offered him one before. You know his upbringing was as barren as yours, but given he is a fighter, you would have guessed someone would have given him one. 

Finally, he nods, his smile starting to come back, “That sounds amazing. If it’s okay with you - I know it’s getting late.”

“I’ll be up anyways,” you tell him quickly, not wanting him to think it is any inconvenience to you. “And it sounds more enjoyable than more cleaning.”

“Okay.” His boyish grin gets even bigger, and your stomach does a funny twist. “Where do you want me?”

You direct him to sit in front of the couch, on the ground, and as he removes the top half of his armor, you go to fetch wet wipes and lotion. You do not want to be rubbing Matt’s sweat all over his back - you are going to be trying to help him relax and that is a little bit disgusting. 

As you come back to the living room, you have to remind yourself you aren’t supposed to throw yourself at him. It is not fair how good he looks shirtless - he’s well defined and muscular, but not so overly buff it is gross. It’s clear his muscles are for athletics and not to show off how cool he is. His scars only emphasize that. You have no idea how he got them all, but you very much want to lay him down and run your tongue over each and every one. 

Your view changes as Matt plops himself down in front of the couch, seemingly unaware of your various mental crises. You tell yourself to Behave before your feet start moving again. When you get to the couch, you maneuver yourself to be behind Matt and have to bat away all your thoughts again at the sight of his shoulders.  

You force yourself to focus on the task in front of you. As you grab the wet wipe to start cleaning off Matt’s back, you advise him, “Let me know if I go too hard or if anything starts to hurt, okay?”

Beneath your hands, he huffs, “Darling, I don’t think you’ll be able to hurt me. If anything, the harder, the better.”

Your face heats up a little at his words. You remember he said something similar when over you on the couch just a few nights ago. He likes things a little rough. 

Once his shoulders are mostly sweat free, you get to work. 

You start with smoothing your hands down his neck, then fanning out to the edge of his shoulders and back. You aren’t exactly an expert at this, but long ago in college, one ex liked to play video games while you rubbed his shoulders and you had done your fair share of research to make sure you were doing it right. You still remember most of the tips. 

You add some of Minnie’s scent free baby lotion to your hands, then dig your thumbs into Matt’s neck. The muscles are tight and as you begin to push and pull at them, a deep, pleased groan comes from the man under you.

“Mmm, that feels so good.”

You can’t help but smile at the praise and it only encourages you to make sure the entire experience is enjoyable. 

It is surprisingly easy for you to get completely lost in the massage. You focus in on one area and mentally picture different little arrows telling you to rub up this way or swirl your thumbs in a certain motion. Matt’s shoulders quickly become a grid for you to complete and not a laborious task of trying to bond. 

Under your unskilled fingers, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen melts. Whenever you find a knot - and there are many - he grunts and sighs and you can tell he is starting to relax. The tension in his shoulders fade and you actually get to see the moment his jaw unclenches. He opens his mouth and scrunches his nose, making the apples of his cheeks plump up. You peek at the television to catch his reflection and your heart warms at the pleased look on his face.

You wonder if it would be possible to get him to fall asleep like this and decide that is a challenge for another day. Right now, you want to pamper him. 

You slowly work your fingers back up towards his neck, then decide to take a chance based on what you know he likes. 

As you reach his hairline, you tilt your fingers forward so your nails are against his skin, then begin to slowly scritch at his scalp like he’s an overgrown cat. 

The results are instantaneous. Matt pushes his head into the touch, a low guttural moan coming up from his throat. 

It is Filthy. It goes right to your core, making you clench around nothing, and you can’t stop yourself from asking in a soft, teasing voice, “Feel good?”

He hums in an affirmative, tilting his head back far enough that he needs to lean against the couch for support. You keep your fingers where they are, as it's clear he is trying to direct you to where it feels the best - the top of his head. You scritch there, smiling as you fluff up his hair even more. 

Matt looks absolutely blissed out - his eyes are closed, his lips are parted, and you are pretty sure if you keep at this, he might just turn into Jello. 

Which is exactly what you want. 

He works so hard for everyone, running himself into the ground to bring justice to Hell’s Kitchen, and you think he needs some time to just relax. 

So, you begin to plan.

As you gently drag your nails through Matt’s hair, you let your mind begin to think up ideas for a nice family spa day while your laptop and dark thoughts sit on the dining room table, forgotten about.

---

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[jillsandwhichs]

Our Future Days

Joel Miller x Reader series, Chapter 1, Move in day

Masterlist

Pairing: Fem!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You officially move from oregan to texas and get to meet your very new & handsome neighbor, Joel

WC: 3.1k

Type: SFW

Some thing's you need to know before reading: this is a series, not a one shot collection! you (the reader) already have a semi premade backstory. first off, you're originally from oregon. you studied at med school and got a job offer in texas to become a doctor, which you took. you are 23 in this but if you don't like that, imagine any age (18+) and i did make joel younger 26 (until the 20 year time jump, he'll be 46) but he does still have sarah, just pretend it's not wonky LMAO! one more thing, ya have a dog in this fic, he's a boy but imagine any breed you'd like! aside from that, this is tlou game version but i included some sides from the show! a couple more things: 1. all characters from tlou1/2 will be mentioned/featured. 2. this takes place before outbreak, then eventually outbreak day, then eventually in the apocalypse. 3. this is a slow burn romance (drabbles of it in each chapter though, esp when it progresses) and does feature a decent amount of smut. 4. JOEL NEVER DIES!!!

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Thank you

Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you matched the beat of the song playing on your cars radio. It was a song by Blake Shelton. You weren't a huge fan of him but he had some classics. It has been such a long day for you. You've been driving for the past two hours, not a single break in between. You just wanted to get to your new home as soon as you could. You could tell your dog, Becker, needed to go potty as well. He'd just have to hold out.

The GPS on your phone stated you were only about ten minutes away. The center of Austin TX was busy as all hell, so that time span could get longer by the second. So many cars & people flooded the streets. "God dammit." You mumbled to yourself, rolling your eyes as you seen all the upcoming traffic ahead. This was going to be a long night. You had no clue when you'd even be able to get into bed. Then again, it was only 4:30 in the afternoon, almost evening.

Behind you, in the backseat, you could hear Becker whimpering & whining. "Don't worry boy, we're almost home, just a little bit longer." You cooed to him, reaching your right hand back and allowing him to lick you. You got Becker as a graduation gift a few weeks ago. You two have bonded ever since. You were never a cat person, dog's were more of your style. "You'll be able to go potty soon." You said to him, pulling your hand back up and holding onto the wheel.

Traffic wasn't going as slow as you intended, was traffic always going to be like this though? This ain't going to be pleasant if so. Especially working for the hospital. Imagine an emergency happens and you're needed but the roads are packed, that's going to be one helluva time. But, you wanna think positively. You missed your family too. It's going to be hard without them, especially your mom. She is your number one supporter and without her in the same home as you, it'll be a large change.

You turned the radio up, hearing the country music blast throughout your car but not loud enough to scare your dog. Dogs ears are sensitive and you didn't wanna bother him further than he already was. No doggo wants to be stuck in a car all day, especially in this heat. Despite it being early September, it was still quite warm out. That's another big change from Oregon, you imagine that back home, it's either really windy or heavily raining. The change could be nice though.

The sound of Becker panting was clear as day, it only made you feel more guilty. "Hold on baby." You muttered to him before you then rolled your window down and the window directly behind you, not a lot though, you didn't want him to jump out or something. Through your rearview mirror, you could see his slobbery tounge blowing in the wind as he stuck his head out the window. "Hah, good boy!" You giggled, turning left onto the exit, finally getting off of this miserable highway.

Finally, the road wasn't full anymore. It was a downtown rural area now, cars slowly made their way through the town. Austin is busy, yes, but this side of it, not so much. The only logical reason it was super busy on the highway and earlier roads was because people are getting/going to work. Your first day at the hospital is on Monday. You were nervous but in a great way. You have been non stop thinking about it. All of the work you've put in and you're officially where you wanted to be. Life was going good... For once...

You passed by all sorts of different places. Gas stations, fast food chains, locally owned stores & stands, it felt so honey. Back in Oregon, you lived in the center of the city, it was always so lively and never calm. Austin is like that too but not as bad, and definitely not as bad as Dallas is. You were grateful you didn't end up moving there or even somewhere that was worse. Austin was a good enough fit for you.

The GPS showed you were only a minute or two away from home, your heart was racing a bit. You've never been on your own before and you least expected it to be in a completely different state. Luckily, a week from now, you'll be going back home for the weekend. It'll be comforting. You'll definitely make sure to call your family everyday, you made sure they knew that too. They'd have to simply put up with it.

You could tell you were getting closer due to the change in scenery. There weren't any establishments around these parts, just either compact or extensive suburban homes. You actually used to make fun of those perfect American families who lived in these types of areas but look at you now. Back home, you lived in a small house, only two bedrooms but you were an only child so it was never a problem. You did wish for siblings growing up but you understand now that if you had some, things would be a whole lot different.

As you turned left, the tracker built into your phone made a dinging noise, indicating you had arrived at your destination. It wasn't wrong. Just to the left, you could see your newly purchased home. It made your heart skip a beat. Not only were you nervous but you were also so happy. You glimmered as you pulled right into the driveway and set your car in park. You could tell Becker knew this was your guy's new home, his whimpers weren't ones of boredness but rather excitement. "One second." You sighed out before getting out of the car.

Stepping out of your car, you sighed softly as you breathed in the fresh air. The smell of outside was always so welcoming. You grabbed your purse out of your car too and swung it across your shoulder. It was a brown leather purse with an embroidered strap. You then opened up the backseat so Becker could jump on out. "Stay over here buddy." You chuckled out, scratching the top of his head a few times before closing both doors. You had quite a bit of stuff in your trunk & backseat but you hired a truck to drive all of your other belongings here. It wouldn't be there for another day or so.

Becker ran off to the side of the house to go potty ; You trusted him enough to not run off. He was a good dog. You went to the back of your car and popped open your trunk. It was a mess but everything you needed for the night was in there. You even bought an air mattress, your back would die trying to sleep on a wooden floor. You grabbed the first two boxes, they weren't very big, and set them on the concrete of your driveway. They just had toiletries in them.

You grabbed out another box, this one was a bit bigger than the other two. It had all of your kitchen appliances in it. You were excited to cook your very first dinner in your very own home. You already decided on making Pesto Pasta, one of your favorites. In your trunk, there was the air mattress box. It wasn't going to be the best way to sleep but it'd have to suffice for the night, your proper bed should be in either tomorrow or on Sunday.

Whilst grabbing out the air mattress, you heard the sound of a truck driving past and pulling into the driveway across from you. They must've been your neighbors. Your neighbors back home weren't the nicest. There were the Johnson's so were beyond uppity and thought they were better than everyone else, they lived beside you. Then there was Cassandra and Cody, they were your age and pretty kind except they were literal kleptos.

You ignored the truck behind you, just trying to get everything you needed for the night. You could hear Becker barking but you didn't know what it was he was doing it at. You figured a wild animal, maybe a bunny or a stray. Becker was actually from a shelter, you'd never buy an animal from PetSmart or whatever. "Becker, quit your barking!" You shouted at him, nudging him to come over to you. Maybe he wasn't good with new environments.

You placed the last cardboard box from your trunk on top of another one, shooting your eyes to look at Becker. He was looking at the truck across the street, barking at it. "Oh boy, quit it." You spoke out to him but he didn't listen. You went to grab onto his collar but right as you did, he bolted off into their driveway. He was a friendly dog, you didn't think he'd do anything bad, he was just inquisitive, but it was still bad of him to run off like that.

"Becker!" You yelled, jogging across the street to grab him. You watched as two men got out of the black truck. The one in the driver's seat had a mullet and lighter hair than the other man, he also seemed shorter. The other one though had short dark hair, although you couldn't tell if it was purely brown or black. He was well built, along with the other man. Were they brothers? That's the only assumption that came to mind.

Once you reached their driveway, you grabbed Becker and pulled him back to you. The man getting out of the passenger seat looked back at you and had a puzzled look before letting out a chuckle beneath his breath. "Listen, I'm so sorry, he's just curious." You sighed out. Becker was now listening as he sat down right by your feet. "Sorry, we'll be out of your hair." You giggled, beginning to turn around before you heard the man's voice speak up.

"You just move in across the street?" He asked you, his voice sounded southern and it was very deep. "Oh uhm, yeah, just got here tonight actually." You said kindly, looking back at him again. "Well, welcome then, and to your dog." He snickered out. "I'm Joel, this is Tommy." Joel spoke deeply, pointing over at the other man. You let the two men know your name before asking them whether or not they were brothers, and they were. You weren't surprised, they did share similar facial features.

"Where are you from?" Joel raised, his arms crossed. His arms were huge, he definitely has a nice body. "I'm from Oregon." You said softly, placing your slender hands onto your waist. "Damn, that's a long ways out. What made you move all the way here?" "Got a job offer at the hospital." You said with a titter, his accent was thick. "Oh, you a nurse or something?" He questioned, leaning up against his truck. "No, a doctor. Recently gradated from medschool." You explained, glancing over at his brother as he walked into the house. Maybe they lived together.

"Well how bout that? I'm just a contractor." "That's nice." You added, tucking strands of your thin hair behind your ear. "Yeah, yeah, well I'll let you continue settling in. If you need any help with uh larger furniture, me and my brother can stop by, we helped the Adler's when they first moved in." Joel said with a deep voice, pointing his index to the home beside his. "That would be great, thanks, luckily I don't have to deal with the bullshit of larger furniture today, it'll be in either tomorrow or Sunday."

"Alrighty, well, you have yourself a good evening. See you." Joel said with a sly smirk, slowly inching backwards. "You too, Joel." You gave him a slight smile before patting Becker to follow behind you. You made your way across the street, allowing Becker to run around in his new yard. You took a gander back and seen Joel looked back at you before entering his home. When you saw his eyes on you, you felt a deep pit in your stomach. Nothing bad, rather just glee or something. You couldn't pin it.

Around your neck was a lanyard, it had the key to your home, you assumed it was locked. At least you hoped, you don't want any squatters inside. You unlocked the white door and opened it, stepping inside of it. The sunset beamed in through the windows throughout the house. It was still dark though, every single light was switched on. The seller said you'd have to go to the basement to switch them all on. That sounded like a fun time!

One by one, you dragged each box into the home, keeping some on the floor and placing some on the island counter. You didn't plan on unpacking any of it tonight, you were restless and just wanted to lay down for the night, despite it only being 5 PM. The more sleep you get, the easier it'll be tomorrow. You definitely had to get a lot of sleep Sunday considering on Monday, you start your first day. Even though it's just training, you wanna be as awake as possible.

You ambled towards the front door again and away from the kitchen to call Becker in. He'd have to deal with the floor for the night. He is a cuddly dog, he loves big comfy areas but without a bed or a couch, there's no way. "Becker!" You said with a rowdy voice, "C'mon baby." He came running over to you and past your legs, going into the house and treading around like a mad man. "Oh good boy." You chuckled, petting him gently.

You walked back over to the kitchen and grabbed the air mattress, you needed to get it open and blown up. It was sealed to a T, your nails were definitely not enough to get it open. Striding towards the appliances box, you opened it up and searched through it, taking out a knife to slice it open. You are quite clumsy so you were praying you wouldn't stab the mattress on accident. It didn't help that Becker felt the need to push himself up against you, seeking attention & love as if he's starved from it.

"Back off boy." You snorted, pulling the mattress out of it's box. It was all wrinkled up and looked compact. Although it was the size of a Full. You straightened it out on the living room floor, you didn't feel like carrying it all the way up the stairs. It came with a machine to blow it up and you connected it to the black cylinder hole, turning it on and hearing the loud blowing noise it was making. You didn't have any pillows, they were all packed up in that truck but luckily, you had a blanket, it was the one you let Becker use in the backseat when you were driving.

"You stay here mister." You stated out to Becker before beginning to make your way out of the front door to take the blanket out from the car. As you went outside, you noticed a bright light was on in Joel's house, just in one room though. You could also see the shadow of a smaller person's body walking through said room. Did he have a girlfriend? Or did Tommy have one? Maybe it was Tommy's. You convinced yourself of that at least.

After grabbing the blanket, you walked back inside and seen Becker already making himself a spot on the bed, despite it barley being inflated. "You little shit." You grinned, tossing the fuzzy blanket on top of him. Guess you were going to have to share.

The bed was officially ready to be slept on, you haven't been this excited to sleep in a very long time. Back home, you dreaded it. You would stay up all night, doing different stuff. Whether it was studying, painting, reading, working out, etc.. You were always doing something new. With Becker, it's been better. You're an affectionate person and he is as a dog. It may be a rough night, it always is sleeping somewhere new, but with him it may be easier.

Pulling the machine away from the bed, you turned it off and climbed underneath the blanket, feeling immediate warmth. The Texas heat also played a part in that. Back in Oregon, you had a heater beside your bed to help, you definitely didn't need one here. "Alright." You whispered to yourself, Becker lying right beside your feet, his fur was cozy. You were originally going to turn the lights on to your home but honestly, you were scared to go down there all alone, a pitch black basement? No thanks.

Trying to sleep in a new area was hard. You felt homesick. You miss your old room, the house noises, the feeling of it. You lived there your entire life, now you're thousands of miles away. Becker probably felt that way too, especially with how he connected with your father, they bonded. A week from now though, you'd be able to see them. It'd be easier. Another thing you couldn't stop thinking about was that man - Joel.

He seemed so different. He was kind & understanding, and that's just simply based on the short conversation the two of you had together. He was so willing to help you out, no one else was like that. It was a sweet welcoming. He was also very handsome. All the men back home weren't like that. That glimmer in his eyes wasn't something to ignore. It was the way he gazed at you that had you wrapped around the thought of him.

That brother of his was good looking too, definitely not as much, but either way. Were they both contractors? It appeared as though they had just left work so maybe they work together. And who was that smaller person walking throughout his house earlier? Had to be a girlfriend. A daughter? No way, the two of them looked to young to even have children. There was still a chance though, teen pregnancies aren't uncommon. You presume you'll deal with a lot of them as a Doctor.

Your eyes felt more & more heavy. Becker's deep breathing made you weary too. The pitch blackness of the room was helpful ; White sound would've been helpful too. Sleeping in complete silence was torture. All you could really hear was your dog and your own breathing. You were completely spent for the day. And you were ready to hit the hay.

Divider Creds: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[that1fangirrl]

okay i wrote a little sumn sumn with no editing, just thoughts... it's not finished but I figured I'd put something out...if you want me to write some more for this and fix it up, lemme know cause i love writing for college!matty 😩Inbox always opened, so feel free. also it's pretty smutty so umm minors get out.

LAST WARNING... IM DEADASS!!!

“11:26 am”, you had been studying for almost two hours now. Foggy and your friend, Lizzie were off in their own world, abandoning any thoughts of you or Matt. The two of them spent every study session, giggling and flirting. Sure, you weren’t a law student and didn’t have to tag along, but Lizzie always invited you. Something about “being with people your age makes you more social”. But really she just wanted an excuse to be around Foggy even more. It wasn’t completely terrible. You weren’t completely alone. Foggy’s roommate, Matt, was always there. A slight grimace on his face like he could see what was happening from across the room, then somehow shaking it off and turning back to his books. You, being the top of your classes left you with not much to study. 

Today was no different. Matt was reading his notes in disgust and the lovebirds were already packing up their bags to go back to Lizzie’s. The two of them stood up, rushing out a quick “we’re just gonna go pick up some food. See you guys in a bit” and running out the room. Foggy wasn’t even trying to hide the boner in pants at this point. You looked down at your watch then at Matt. His shades met your gaze. “How many days do you think it’ll take for them to realize we know they’re fucking?” You giggled a little, fixing your glasses. “Who knows? I told Liz, I didn’t care. But she insists they haven’t done anything yet.” Your eyes roll. You stand up closing your book, walking over to Matt’s bed. He does the same, sitting up and pushing his notes over. His arms stretch out as you reach him and straddle his lap. Your lips connect with soft moans following behind. 

“Enough about them. What about us? Two months and they’ve hardly noticed we’ve been fucking.” You sigh into Matt’s mouth. A soft questioning look on your face. “We are? Man, I just thought we were studying anatomy.” His hands reach up to your blouse, unopening the three buttons at the top. His hands squeeze down on your breasts, face settling nose first in the valley of them. He takes a deep breath, before looking back up with a dopey smile. “Well then, I must be amazing at anatomy. My favorite body part is this one.” His hands reach down towards your ass. A loud sigh leaves your lips. “I guess that would make this one… mine.” You reach into his sweats and palm his cock. “Mmmhh. It’s definitely yours Angel.”

The two of you hadn’t done nearly as much as the previously mentioned couple. Mostly, just grinding, making out and the occasional giving and receiving of head. The first time it happened shocked you both. Matt had been late for one of the study sessions. You were the only one there, not wanting to ruin your groove after Foggy and Liz left. Matt looked like he ran a marathon. Sweat dripping all over ,chest still heaving, sweats hugging the right places and hair all over the place. Apparently, after failing one of his tests, he went out to the gym to “punch out his feelings”. You tried your best to stay focused on helping him, but he looked so fucking hot. Unbeknownst to you, Matt was catching onto the shift in you. He had never smelled something so sweet. When you went in for a comforting hug, he let slip that he was still a bit pent up. So being the good friend you were, you slid down to your knees and offered to help him “relax”. 

Ever since then, you guys continued to relax together. Matt was a huge tease. Especially during the last few study sessions. Just last week, your covers were almost blown. Foggy had come back and found you and Matt cuddled up next to each other on Matt’s bed. If he weren’t so oblivious, he probably would’ve noticed how your legs were wide open and splayed on Matt’s lap with his hand moving at the slowest pace on the planet. You thought he had finally figured it out, when your head fell forward and you let out a small squeal. Matt, being quick on his toes, said he had accidentally grazed a spot where you were known to be quick ticklish. After Foggy finished whatever it was he was up to, Matt went right back to finger fucking you under the covers. Let’s just say the laundry attendant was pretty confused seeing Matt again for the second time in two days. 

Back to now, you both were breathing in each other. Hands everywhere. Rediscovering places you had been before. You both were so caught up with each other, that you hadn’t even heard the door opening. A loud gasp sounded from the doorframe. Following it was an even louder, “WHAT. THE. FUCK?!” Your head whipped around hard enough to give whiplash. Both Lizzie and Foggy were standing shocked with pizza and drinks in hand. The four of you continued to stare before Lizzie squealed out, “I. Knew it!! I knew they were fucking Foggy. 25 bucks, right now.” You blinked at her, “you bet on us? How’d you know?” “We share a wall. I could hear buzzing and a particular name being mentioned more than a few times.” You blushed, tucking away into Matt’s arms as he chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I’m sure Foggy hears you sometimes…right Fog?” Foggy and Matt laughed loudly. “Puh-lease. I snore so loud, a bomb could go off and I’d still be asleep.”

Sooooo. Should I write some more for this or noooo???

[littlebitsmile]

in flames [C.L.] | Chapter III

Welcome back! This took me a bit longer than usual, but it's still Sunday, so I'm glad you decided to join me (: Hope you all had a nice first week of 2024 - only 55 more days until we see our munchkins driving in circles again - hope this makes the wait a bit shorter.

As always, have fun (:

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R III ɞ────

Music booms from the headphones in my ear, my feet float over the treadmill, drops of sweat run down the sides of my face. Next to me, all I can hear is Max's heavy breathing and the occasional quiet "f*ck" as another intensive interval approaches. My calves gave up the ghost ten minutes ago and have been cramping ever since, but my pride won't let me stop.

I actually wanted to squeeze in an extra training session this morning before Max woke up and wanted to hang out and do some off-season stuff, but unfortunately, he was already at the coffee machine when I decided to roll out of bed. He then followed me into the fitness room of his apartment without any comment.

He has been kind enough to let me stay with him, Kelly, and Penelope for a few years now so that I can avoid living with our parents and even worse, letting them decide what happens next with my accommodation situation. As the eldest son, he has probably had his experiences and learned his lessons, always being the one to take the blows, and although he always pretends to give me a hard time, I'm sure that deep down he doesn't want me to go through the same hell he did. The fact that I can never come close to his golden boy in our father's eyes anyway is a different story.

I breathe heavily but try to concentrate on the view. Monaco's harbor landscape is one of the most beautiful I have ever experienced. A little too much lifestyle of the rich and famous for my liking, but Max loved it here right from the start, when we first visited a few years ago. Maybe because he can live right next to the racetrack, waking up every morning and sipping his breakfast coffee with his brain already imagining those cars on the streets right in front of him.

"You're quiet," he presses out between his lips at some point. I don't look at him but concentrate on a small yacht that is about to leave the outer jetties. He gets a kick out of seeing me suffer, I’m sure of it. If I don’t let myself get distracted by the pain in my legs, I can do a few more minutes on this torture device.

"I'm dying," I reply, trying not to fall down at the same time. My diaphragm starts to painfully remind me that I'm not my 26-year-old racing brother, who has been doing this for years and years, never losing sight of his goals, exceeding his limits.

He reduces the speed on his treadmill and starts to jog slowly before continuing: "When are you flying to England? For simulator runs and so on?"

I'm still running at the same pace as before. I try to show February 15 with my hands, holding all of my ten fingers up, then five and the peace sign as a two, but I'm not sure if he immediately understands what I mean.

In the time between the end of the season and the first pre-season tests, the world stands still in my head. I enjoy visiting friends for once and not feeling bad when I see photos in our group chats of everyone getting together and me missing. Max, on the other hand, never leaves his zone - his racing set up in his study glows for hours every day. When he's not training, eating, or sleeping, he lives and breathes motorsport, whether it’s on or off track. Maybe that's why he's such an exceptional talent. Or maybe he is just stupid, for not living his life during his prime time and will fall into a pit of self-despair when he’s 40.

"Excited?" he interrupts my thoughts. I can’t remember what we were talking about, and he notices. “For the UK, I mean? Rain and cloudy weather?”

I nod. My lungs are burning, and I don't know who exactly I'm trying to prove something to. I keep running, my thighs are starting to burn like hell. A few of my fingertips go numb, and my head starts to feel dizzy. There are a few black dots here and there, but it isn’t the first time something like this happens and it won’t be the last.

"What number are you going to start with?" Max asks. I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to give too much away about whether I'll keep my number from Formula 2 or change it. Mostly because I haven’t thought about it and I would love to have a number with a deeper meaning.

"You could take 69."

When he says this, I almost stumble on the treadmill. I hold on left and right and hop onto the side edges as the mechanical noise belt continues to run beneath me. Although everything inside me hurts like hell after the last hour and a half of running, I must laugh out loud. Max grins sheepishly at me. Sometimes I am not sure who of us is the older sibling.

"I think that would be more your thing, don't you?" Out of breath, I put my hands on my hips and lean my upper body against the treadmill display. I try to calm my heartbeat, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

"I've already got the 1; that's enough for me..."

“You won’t have it forever, though," I interrupt him before he falls into another monologue of self-congratulation. I wiggle my eyebrows and grin mischievously at him. Then I stick my tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before hitting me on the shoulder with his fist.

"The only one I'm afraid of is you,” he admits openly. I look at him in disbelief. Where has this recognition suddenly come from? I almost choke on the sip of water I’m taking. “But you're in the wrong car anyway, so at least I don't have much to fear this season.”

"I don't need your false assumptions, Max. We've never lied to each other." I look into the distance, back to the harbor. I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn't the person I am.

"I'm not lying, I promise. I'm more afraid that this team will take you down with them."

"Aston Martin won't drag me into the abyss. They're giving me a fair chance."

"You would have had a fair chance with me and Red Bull."

"Fair, Max? Really? As number two? How well did that turn out with the last team partners? Lewis and Nico? Lewis and Valtteri? You and pretty much everyone who came after Sebastian? The only off-track friends who were in the same team and still get on well are Carlos and Lando. I don't want that for us." Now I turn to him. A furrow forms between his eyebrows, and he looks down at the ground. He knows I am right, and I think that causes him greater pain than what I just said about us not being able to be proper teammates.

"If you don't perform at Aston Martin, if you even get the chance to show what you are capable of in that sh*tbox of a car, then no other team will take you. There is only one chance to be part of this grid, and I just can’t believe you would rather not drive at all than have me as your team partner?" He is frustrated, I can feel it in his voice. So I try to soften my voice and understand him from his point of view.

"Max, I love you; I really do. You're the coolest brother in the world, and I'm not saying that because I get to live in your cool penthouse in the middle of Monaco.” There is a chuckle, and I know he wants to reassure me that he loves to have me here with him. But before he can speak another word, I continue. “But I've been compared to you my whole life and I will continue to be. This hasn’t been easy, for any of us. But for a change, I can decide for myself whether to confront it or if I just leave my phone off and not read the news, because no one in my own team will compare me to you." The conversation has taken on a serious tone, but I know he understands what I mean.

"I get it. I still would have liked you to be the wing woman. Pretty sure we’d be great. With you keeping all those madmen away from me." He winks. Then he looks straight ahead towards the panoramic window. It's quiet between us for a while.

I think back to his first victory with Red Bull. How he threw himself into the arms of his team afterward, so proud and so full of emotion, as if someone was finally accepting him for who he is, no ifs, ands, or buts. He doesn't talk much about his relationship with Christian Horner, but I'm 90% sure that Christian is in many ways the father figure for Max that our father could never be for him. How he has grown with this team and gone from a really misunderstood driver to a three-time world champion. He wouldn't leave Red Bull until they cut him out from inside with a digger and chainsaw and shipped him to the other side of the world. He lives, breathes, and burns for this sport and for the people in his immediate surroundings, a quality that I greatly admire in him and that not everyone is able to appreciate.

"If you could be someone else or do something else, what would it be?" The question catches him off guard. He is confused for a moment, then looks thoughtful and shakes his head.

"I don't think I want to be – can be - anywhere else. This is where I belong."

I believe him. But suddenly I'm not so sure if my answer would be the same.

As the plane lands in London, I grab my backpack, put on my cap, and hide my face a little better. I'm almost certain that some paparazzi is waiting for me in the arrivals hall because I seem to be the only one from the F1 paddock not traveling by a private jet. I wonder why.

I quickly get through security and baggage claim, so it feels like no more than 30 minutes before I step through the airport doors and out into rainy UK weather. To my right, an elderly gentleman with a sign saying "Emma V." walks towards me and takes my luggage. I thank him, get in the car, and then we make our way to the Aston Martin headquarters. I fall asleep unplanned and only wake up when we arrive.

I am overwhelmed by the polished floors, the glass structures of the building, how everything looks as if this is not the headquarters of a Formula 1 team but of Iron Man and the Avengers.

Mike Krack, the team principal, comes to meet me, shakes my hand, and welcomes me to the hallowed halls. I'm then given a tour, starting with the departments I'm least interested in, such as budget and logistics. I know these people are as important as anyone else, but I am a driver, so the technical departments will be my home base.

"But you're certainly not here to look at the view. You want to go to the simulators, right?" Mike states correctly at some point. I nod vigorously. "Then that's our next destination."

And no matter what I was expecting, it wasn’t that. As I step into a room with a screen as big as the panoramic view back at Max’s apartment, I immediately want to leap into the seat in front of it. I wait for a nod of approval from Mike before I hop into it and feel the leather beneath my hands and notice the smell of something new. I shriek. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up. And before someone can stop me, I’m already turning the machine on and getting ready to drive my first laps in the simulator.

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Chapter II] [Chapter IV] ɞ────

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

getting shit together~

day 1/50 productivity challenge

26/august/2024 - monday

no school today so yay! i don't really have anything urgent to "catch up" on but i've fallen severely behind on my own study plan. considering i don't go to any extra tuition/coaching, i need to be disciplined in my time management and hold myself accountable to the reasonable plans i made for myself. i'm not in too deep though so all i need to do now is get back on track.

🕒 10:00 a.m.

morning skincare

extended duolingo streak

cleaned out email + photo gallery

practiced playing keyboard

enough is enough with my procrastination towards studying. i mean i even watch study motivation videos on youtube instead of studying! so i just made a cup of coffee and dived straight into work.

studied psychology ch-1: what is psychology?

something to say: the ncert psychology textbook is actual nonsense. thank god for my teacher, he actually explains each concept mentioned in the textbook and so much more. if it wasn't for his classes, i don't think i would have understood literally anything in the textbook. the fact that he's most probably leaving next year is kinda making me anxious because what if the next teacher is absolute shit. this is a subject that involves lots of theory and long lectures. my current teacher is very animated in his discussions and he also involves us students too. it's never a boring class. but if the next teacher is boring i will literally start hating the class, and i don't want that to happen considering i love this subject and am actually planning on pursuing it in the future.

also akjsdfhkjashgdjkg sigmund freud, that man, istg, is gonna haunt me for the rest of my life.

it really grates on my skin if my room is dusty. and that easy annoyance combined with being a maximalist who loves trinkets is not a good combination. the universe decided to make me a walking contradiction, in many areas of my life. i make it a thing to clean my room at least once every week.

cleaned my room

did a workout video (when the workout leaves you sore>>>)

i like to do the dusty and sweaty work before taking bath so that i feel clean for the rest of the day. also thank fuck my periods ended yesterday, i hate them so much ugh i never even want to be pregnant.

took bath

prepared for seminar for psychology

basically us students have to learn the 6th chapter and "teach" it to the teacher. since we're only 3 students, our teacher told us to divide the topics amongst ourselves. we're supposed to start tomorrow but my topic is probably not tomorrow since i'm doing the second part of three. i still want to start preparing. presentations always make me nervous but i know that if i'm prepared i don't do bad at all.

night skincare

🕒 12:30 a.m.

will probably get around 6 hours of sleep.

also, random warning/tip but don't trust the ai generated summary of answers that comes up first when you search anything on google. it just uses whatever phrases it can to make a coherent set of statements. but a lot of the time, it doesn't summarize correctly at all. click on the results of a legit website to at least quickly cross-check. do not take info solely from the ai tool.

[nicnacsnonsense]

💖👀✨

For the fic writer meme

💖 What made you start writing?

Short answer: I was desperate for more Princess Tutu content.

Very long answer:

It is early July of 2010. I am at college, taking the Intro to Bio class during a summer session because the stupid class kept getting full up before my sign up window during the normal school year. I am feeling pretty down at the time -- that undiagnosed, unmedicated ADHD low key depressive funk. I was also watching a lot of anime at the time and decided to check out Princess Tutu, which looked like a sweet and fun pick me up.

By the end of the first episode, my mood had lifted. By the end of the series (26 episodes total) my entire brain chemistry had been altered. Princess Tutu was my new favorite show of all time (in some ways it still is). I rewatched it numerous times. I showed it to as many people as I could get to stay sitting after I told them it was called Princess Tutu. I bought the DVD box set for myself and watched all the special features.

Christmas break of 2010 I was home and rewatched the show once again. But it wasn't enough. I needed more. I could feel myself falling back into that funk. I went to the TvTropes page for Princess Tutu and clicked on the one tab I hadn't looked at: Fanfic Recs. I didn't read fanfic at the time, hadn't really ever before, and had the vague notion of it being kind of an embarrassing thing, but I needed more Princess Tutu.

One of the recommendations was The Heart of Everything by gemkazoni. I stayed up until 4am reading that fic (it is 84k long). Once again my brain chemistry was changed. I reread it only a couple days later and then created an FFN account expressly for the purposes of leaving a review on that fic (I didn't know guest reviews were a thing). And so of course after a stellar introduction like that I continued to read more and more fanfic.

Exactly 2 weeks later I was in the shower when the idea for a character study popped into my head. I kept running through the words over and over in my head until I decided I had to write them down and of course once I wrote them down I had to post it. It got 7 hits in the first hour which felt like the most exciting thing that had ever happened. And the rest is history.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I've not been in a very writerly headspace lately I confess. I've had a lot of ideas for AUs, but haven't really sat down to write anything in a while. One thing that I would like to do is circle back to the OFMD Galavant AU to write a couple more scenes so it ends on a happy place for them and then I can post it as a sort of time skip/snippet collection even if I don't write a full AU for it.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

I'm really good at writing in character and giving a strong sense of the POV character due to a special technique (it's not a technique, my brain is just weird this way) that I like to call "method writing."

[threebooksoneplot]

Episode 16: "Dates and Dateline" (Show Notes)

listen along here

Content warnings for discussion of suicide (33:10 — 36:17) and pedophilia/murder (1:21:21 — 1:27:45)

[00:01:39] The Tumblr Q&A for Life and Death in which Stephenie Meyer admits to trying to name Carine "Carlyle"

[00:02:20] It's "levi-OH-sa," not "levio-SAH"

I'm so sorry for 2023 harry potter reference but cmon

[00:04:58] G was not kidding about South Park being "a weird little Wild West town with like, cutouts of Cartman"

[00:05:38] Info on the South Park episode "Tweek x Craig," in which said characters get together

[00:06:13] Chatzy, apparently still going strong

[00:06:35] The Urban Dictionary entry for TwiMDB

[00:08:50] The CW's Nancy Drew (2019)

[00:12:41] Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight saga playlists

[00:14:47] The MTV article about Mitch Hansen + the band's Spotify

[00:15:28] The "Twilight Hour" album

[00:16:44] Jacob Black.mp3

[00:17:32] A World Without You.mp3

[00:17:59] Thorns.mp3

[00:18:12] I Don't Know.mp3

[00:18:42] She is Brighter.mp3

[00:19:09] Shannon's Twilight SAT book

[00:19:21] Nabokov’s Favorite Word is Mauve, the book that contains the “statistical analysis of Stephenie Meyer's word choice in the Twilight books” G is talking about (a recommended read!)

[00:20:28] The Bella Cullen Project

[00:21:44] Snag the download for Shannon’s "Then and Now (Alice’s Lullaby)" song here after you donate to the Quileute tribe's Move to Higher Ground fundraiser! (Don't forget to take a screenshot.)

[00:22:32] The "Edward playing music for Bella" meme

[00:23:46] Filk

[00:26:32] Shannon’s summary:

On a scale from 1-10, how weird is to hear all about your brand new girlfriend’s mom’s suicide attempts? Just asking for a friend. Beau might only be on Date #3 if we’re counting the sexy ravioli date, but he’s unlocking the first of much family trauma during this trip to the Cullen household. There’s ugly carpets, old paintings, and books and music galore! Beau is rolling with the punches in today’s chapter, and by punches I mean “tackles” because when Edythe tries to scare him, he just gets turned on about it. They make fun baseball plans with Archie and Jessamine, and if you’re quiet enough you can just barely hear Supermassive Black Hole playing in the distance. Things only get more exciting from here and I can’t wait to see the mess!

[00:31:13] G’s Animal Crossing: New Horizons recreation of Carlisle’s study, complete with Volturi painting

[00:34:16] The Groundhog Day suicide montage (obvious content warning here)

[00:39:06] Francesco Solimena, and a few examples of his work:

[00:39:38] The painting of Carlisle and the Volturi, as shown in New Moon and in the New Moon graphic novel

[00:40:57] G is incorrect—Edward has not told Bella he’s killed people yet. She’s getting mixed up with the movie, in which he does tell Bella he's a murderer during the meadow scene.

[00:54:20] Shannon’s Hot Topic jalice shirt, G’s Cullen crest and Bella rings (also from Hot Topic)

[01:16:11] The What We Do in the Shadows episode "The Orgy" (+ trailer)

[01:36:38] Follow Liza on instagram here!

Another action-packed show notes! Hope you enjoyed this week's adventures in music and art :))

[game-set-canet]

100 questions to invade my personal life; 10, 26, 49, 40, 87

10. are you a morning person? nope. no. not at all. i'm not very talkative in the morning and need about an hour to get going

26. Dogs or cats? i love both so so much! but in case: dogs!

40. Do you see yourself being famous some day? not really, i don't see a reason why i should be famous some day 😂 i'd say i'm mainly average at everything

49. Tell us a story about your childhood. For my 5th birthday there was a big birthday party with all my kindergarten friends and one of them gave me a cactus (I have always loved cacti and still do) and I still have the cactus. It is now 18 years old and very big and there are now 7 sprigs, all of which have grown very big.

87. Would you rather live in the city or the woods? Why? definitely in the woods! i grew up in a rural area and need enough nature around me to be happy. Due to my studies, I live in a city part of the week and I wouldn't want to (and couldn't) live there for more than three days at a time. also, I'm used to having pets (my dog and also my horse) and I couldn't imagine that in the city. also: i hate having so much people around me, i think it's too stressful in the city.

thank you so so much!! 💕 feel hugged! 💕

100 questions to invade my personal life

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 2010 It rained like crazy all day and all night yesterday, but today will be sunny and warm. Then after a couple of days in the 60s, we’ll get rained on again.

Work was good yesterday and I did a bunch of categorizing jobs and made $15 in just over a couple of hours. I’ll probably make close to that today too, but will also be doing several other things as well.

The rat’s been a little clingier since his brother died, but toting around a 2-pound rat isn’t very easy. I still manage to make sure I give him regular treats and attention so he doesn’t feel so alone, but can’t let him run around loose because he’s way more destructive than any other rat we’ve ever had.

Since he’s old and has a tumor and won’t be around much longer, we’ve got a decision to make soon – do we want to get another rat? Do we want to get a dog? Or do we just go petless for a while? I know I definitely don’t have as much time as I used to for pets, so we’ll just have to wait and see.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2010 Nothing new to update on other than that one of the rats died. I was surprised it was Bendejo and not the other one who’s huge and has a tumor. Tom will miss him, but I can’t say I’ll miss him much myself because he was never much fun. He wasn’t mean in any way. He actually had a very mellow disposition. He was just timid as hell and quite antisocial.

D said she was worried because she lost pay from the last two snow days and won’t get paid from the new job for a couple of weeks, but as I told her, her life may not be perfect, but just be glad to be living rent-free! And that she has all that money to look forward to when the new job does start paying. She’s very lucky something up there cared enough about her to help guide her to this new job. Wish something would care about us that much. But I totally believe that even if the economy were suddenly booming, we’re just one of those who will always be meant to be poor. I could write a book as brilliant as any best seller out there, and my husband could come up with the most ingenious of programs, but nothing can change fate. I just can’t figure out why we’re meant to be poor for the rest of our lives. Maybe we were bank robbers in a previous life, IDK.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2010 All 5 of my stories are currently in the top 14 spots on the story site with one of them being #1 again. Yeah, they love me when they don’t have to pay me, LOL.

D read a couple of my stories and so I sent her some more. She also was quite flattering by saying that the more she learns about me, the more she loves me. I think it’s usually the other way around, LOL.

Mother Nature has been pissed at the northeast, alright! D’s boss told her she could take the day off yesterday because she was snowed in.

She sent a couple of text messages, one serious and touching, the other funny, but as I reminded her, we have pre-paid so we have to pay for these things. I assured her I’d make her “pay restitution” if she ever makes it out here for a visit, LOL.

Not Tom, of course, but many people have felt uncomfortable around me because I tend to be able to do the things most people can’t (mostly things related to music/art/writing and learning languages) while the simple, everyday things are harder for me. Guess I’m just one of them prodigies they’re always studying. People have often told me I made them feel dumb in comparison, or they just didn’t appreciate the things I worked hard to learn and achieve. Not D, though. D has informed me that it’s one of the things she loves about me.

So while I may have a driving phobia, no ability to hold a schedule, and find a lot of modern gadgets confusing (she got a kick out of how I said I didn’t know how to use Tom’s cell phone), I’ll go on to write my stories, learn my languages, and sing better than not all, but probably at least half of these singers.

Other than being both dumb and smart, life is going pretty much as it has been lately. It’s just a big old waiting game. Tom did say, however, that more jobs have been showing up at the job site (not the one we work at) and around here too, and not just in Sac City.

I loved one of the perfume samples I got. The Black Orchid by Tom Ford. I found I could get it on eBay for as little as $25-$35, but I’ve got other priorities right now so it will have to wait. First we want to upgrade Tom’s software so he can do some software testing as well as some programming. We also have other things we’re going to be getting that we could use, so the Black Orchid is on hold for now. It comes in an ugly bottle but smells heavenly. It’s almost masculine smelling, but it’s not. I’d also like to try his White Patchouli since Patchouli is one of my favorites.

Fucking horses! Had they done their job back in 2006 I could have just about anything I wanted short of a million-dollar mansion. Don’t even ask me to explain that one right now. Now is not the time. But the point is the same; I may not be nearly as materialistic as I used to be, but we’d never have had to worry about money had things gone the way they were supposed to. But it seems they rarely do. Yup, life is full of surprises, good and bad, and as I’ve learned, expect the unexpected in life as that’s most likely what you’re going to end up with.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 2010 Incredibly, the propane guy not only came the day he was supposed to, but I may’ve slept through most of it as well. I slept with both sound machines on really loud and an earplug in the good ear. When I woke up and stumbled out of the bedroom, I thought the guy was just pulling in, but he was actually just leaving. This gives me hope of never having to be woken up by Jesse again as long as I make sure I turn the sound machines up and use the earplug when I’m sleeping during the daytime. Then the worst he can do is annoy me with coming down here, and I’d rather that than be woken up. I can’t believe no one’s been down since the 12th!

Anyway, other than working and swapping emails with my top cyber pals, I’m working on my bio tonight. The next chunk should be posted soon. I added new info regarding my lovely tormentors of the 90s and 00s. This is because I learned more after I wrote the part of my bio that covers them and their shit which is part of why it was taken down for editing. I can’t believe I left out the part about the little note they put in our mailbox slot trying to arrange a little orgy with us, plus the phone message preaching racial harmony. But I guess that’s just because they did so much shit to us it’s hard to keep track of everything. Especially when you’re trying to forget such assholes and get on with your life.

I also added that my disability benefits were terminated around the time I got married, another thing I was shocked to find I’d left out.

D starts her new job on Monday! Aren’t you glad you didn’t drink? I asked her. She said yes, though a beer still sounded good at the time, LOL. But as I told her, a lot of things “sound” good. When I tell myself what I wish I could do to my perpetrators, it sounds like music to my ears. Yet I know I never can because then they’d have a legit, honest-to-God reason to throw me in jail. So I’ll just have to keep on listening to that music.

So yay for D, boo for us, still having to sit around like we’re a couple of dumb-ass, lazy people who don’t give a shit about nothing. I wonder if I’ll ever accept the fact that no matter how ready, willing and able we are to get ahead, we just never will. All I can see is him not working for 2-3 years, then starting at shit pay and slowly climbing to maybe $12 over a 5-year period, while our dream home continues to be just that – a dream. I hope I’m wrong and that he, who believes he’ll be working this summer, is right. He says he thinks there’ll be a big push for jobs because it’s an election year, and if the people up for election don’t do something to get the jobs going again, they get voted out.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 2010 Swapped emails with D, Eileen and Paul, and now I’m just kicking back. It’s still the weekend, so there’s not much work at the job site.

I gave D some tips and pointers on an essay she had to do and calmed her fears about the new job. Since it’s been two weeks, she’s starting to worry it’s some kind of joke. Especially since she already gave her two-week notice to her current boss. I told her not to jump the gun and assume anything until she talked to someone. She’s going to call them tomorrow. I can’t believe a college of all places would tell someone they had a job that they didn’t and play with someone’s head like that. God, I hope not anyway!

I’m just lazing around and not doing much since it’s the weekend. I worked out and did a few jobs, but that’s about it. Every so often I catch up on what horror flicks I might’ve missed on Hulu. Once I’ve seen all I want to see, I’ll get back on with my writing till they add new goodies.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 2010 Other than swapping a few emails with D, doing a couple of loads of laundry, and not finding much work, it’s been a slow day. I’m taking advantage of the lack of work available and just vegging out and relaxing. I’m gonna watch a movie or two on Hulu and maybe – maybe – do some writing.

Cassie’s got a girlfriend, so D says she’ll “move in for the kill” when they break up. Meanwhile, she’s got this blond chick she’s playing around with who’s one of the bus drivers.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 2010 I’ve learned a lesson: never bother to send a referral link to Alison again. She doesn’t realize she has to do certain things more than once for anyone to make any money. Signing up simply isn’t enough.

Got up at 12:30 and unfortunately, that was too late to go over a paper D wanted me to go over before she turned it in. She was going to work right around the time I first got up and checked my email. Then I was so busy I didn’t get back to my computer till around 3:00, at which time I answered emails from cyber buddies, then hit the job site. Made $15 in just 20 minutes or less.

We went to the store shortly after I got up. The cherry and apple trees are now in bloom and they look so pretty.

The propane people are set to come out Monday which probably means they’ll really be here Tuesday or Wednesday. We’re getting 50 gallons for $130. It should last a lot longer than the last time when we got 70 gallons with the way we’re warming up here. We are, however, supposed to drop into the 50s and get rained on for a few days, so who knows for sure? Propane is getting cheaper as the weather warms up, so whenever we do need it again it won’t cost as much.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 2010 D got to have some fun last night. She took my advice and told the person she didn’t want any strings attached, and they said that’d be alright as long as they kept coming back. They got it on in the women’s bathroom which she says may sound tacky, but the stalls were huge.

You would think I would feel some jealousy, but instead I just feel happy for D, who says she feels 10 pounds lighter. I guess sex just isn’t a top priority for me. Since guys don’t usually know what the hell they’re doing in bed I suppose I could join sites to meet women locally, but I just haven’t wanted to. It’s still nice to know the option is there if I ever feel I just gotta be a little bit more human. I seem to attract women more and more with age. I’m still as feminine as always, but they seem to prefer the older version of me for some reason, whereas most guys are obsessed with the young and skinny. Well, I may not be fat and I may look a little younger, but I’m not young and skinny, LOL.

Yesterday it turned out that I knew too many languages for my own good. There was this survey that came into the job site that paid well, but you had to be monolingual and speak English only. So Tom did that one.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 2010 Got cards from both Eileen and Rosa today. It was so nice of them to send them. I emailed Eileen and will get a letter off to Rosa soon enough. Still wonder why I haven’t heard from Mary?

D wasn’t too happy about the meaning of her last name (stupid or silly) which I got a kick out of. Ours makes perfect sense for us; no matter how hard you try to get ahead in life it’s always gonna rain on your plans anyway! Don’t have a clue as to what my maiden name could mean. I only know it’s of German Jewish descent.

I was flattered by the way she said she liked my fire (when I told someone to go turn on their stove and sit on it), especially since most either try to throw water on it if they aren’t running from it in the first place.

I forgot to mention that Paul said he thinks I should work on the story with Stacey because it has “movie rights” stamped all over it, LOL. I don’t know about that, but we’ll see. Maybe in the future I’ll tinker with it, but right now I have enough on my plate.

Tom read about this killer ab exercise and I was like, yeah, so what? An exercise is an exercise and none of them work miracles, as some like to say. They just help. But I’m always open to trying new things. I don’t know what it’s called. I just refer to it as The Strain cuz it’s a hell of a strain, alright. You make like you’re going to do push-ups, only you lean on your elbows, keeping your body as straight as you can and holding the position for 20 seconds. You do 5 sets of these every other day. The catch: you have to be in kick-ass shape. Tom can’t even get through one set yet. It can also cause bleeding in some women that’s how intense it is. It’s really doing a fine job of firming and flattening my tummy after just 4 or 5 times of doing it and my stomach was already pretty flat to begin with. I do my regular crunches on days I don’t do this exercise. Then there are my usual cardio workouts where I either ride or run. I work my arms too, using water jugs as weights.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2010 Fortunately, I was able to get online without any problems when I got up. Yesterday Tom had to call our IP cuz our modem lost its mind and we needed a special code to access the internet.

It will be warm and sunny again today, and like yesterday, I am barefoot and in shorts.

I still love the hell out of D, but she sure confuses me at times. She said something like, “Now that I know you’re strictly dickly I won’t talk about sex anymore,” and I’m wondering to myself, now where the hell does this girl come up with these things? After all, if I were strictly dickly then I wouldn’t be flirting with her. Only gay and bi women flirt with other women. Not straight women. LOL, so I don’t always know what to make of her assumptions at times, but anyway, she gets off work at 8pm today. I hope her cold is better.

The pest is working today, judging by the fact that I haven’t heard his motorcycle since I’ve been up. And Tom said he heard barking “in the distance” this morning which was almost certainly Whiskey right up the hill. You can’t hear barking in the distance here unless you either go outside or are by an open window late at night.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2010 Swapped emails with D, Eileen and Paul. D has a cold, Eileen asked if I got the Valentine’s card she sent me, and Paul is just Paul. He was in one of last night’s strange and unnerving mixture of senseless dreams, but I will get to that soon enough.

D and I couldn’t resist going back to sending several emails a day, so we swapped messages on and off in between her being sick and me working on various things.

Yesterday she appeared to be available on Yahoo all day and by 7pm I couldn’t resist the urge to say hello, but she never replied. So I guess she wasn’t actually there.

I told Eileen we only pick up our mail once a week. After 4 months of holidays disrupting the mail, it will be nice to get a break from that for a while! We usually go on Thursdays or Fridays, but we may go on Wednesday this week. Anyway, she’s been having fun spending time with her granddaughter but is tired from all the activity.

Last night the heat didn’t come on till 11:30 and today we had to open windows for a while. It almost got up to 85º in here, though the temp drops fast after dark.

Incredibly, I heard not one single sound from Jesse yesterday. No motorcycle, no bulldozer, no barking, no nothing. Today he came and went on the motorcycle at which time there was some barking. I told Whiskey to be quiet and he did. The temperature and time of day definitely have a part in how well he listens. The earlier it is and the colder it is, the more he barks and will only shut up for a few minutes at a time when yelled at. If it’s warmer and later in the day, the commands have more lasting effects.

Tom said Brandy was down here yesterday which doesn’t surprise me. I still think they’re abused and neglected, so the more they get to know us, the more they’ll hang out down here.

I dreamt that I went with Tom to pick up the mail and the check came. He said, “It looks like they’re going to white us out.” I asked what that meant – shit, I’m getting a cramp in my hand when I type – and he said that a “white-out” meant that that would be our last check. Instead of panicking, I figured, oh well, so we gotta kill ourselves so we don’t starve in the streets. So be it. I knew I’d miss D, but also knew I’d never again have to worry about bills or any of life’s bullshit.

Then the dream continued in this spacious, modern place we could never move to if we were on unemployment, and I thought to myself that at least we’d get to “die in style.” Tom asked how I liked it there and I said it was nice, but a bit of a walk from my computer to the toilet (since I’m always peeing with all the water I drink).

Next thing I know we’re back here and someone’s working for Jesse on the cement stairs he decided to create going from our place and straight up the hill to his door (God, I hope he doesn’t do that!). I said to the guy, “Well, I won’t tell you to shut up since my husband works nights and is asleep at the other end of the place, but do you know anything about these white-outs? Does the government just starve people like that?”

Not that Tom’s bound to have the blessing of a job for quite a while in reality, but the guy said, “Yup, they do it all the time.”

I then started wandering around and in just minutes I happened to be halfway around the world in front of Paul’s place in England, LOL. He was hanging out front. I recognized him from his picture and he recognized me, too. “Oh, hey there, Jodi!” he said, “How are you?”

“Hi Paul,” I said back. “I’m okay.”

He invited me in but I was hesitant because I know he hates to lose time from his writing. But he assured me a few minutes would be fine and so we ended up chatting and even cooking God knows what for what had to be a lot longer than a few minutes. How I got back home is a mystery to me, LOL.

Lastly, I dreamt I joined this escort service of all things. I wasn’t there because I wanted to be there, but because I needed the money. So I waited in a waiting room to be “bought.” A woman who was sort of short, fat, old and ugly (like me. :)) came in and decided to buy me. I was glad to have been sold to a woman if I had to be sold to anyone. But then I learned she was actually taking me home to her husband. I woke up trying to figure out if I could get the money and then split before I had to actually render any services.

Tom assured me there’s no such thing as a “white-out” and that all is fine with our money. I think I’m just going to be a worrywart forever no matter what!

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 2010 Wow, still nothing from Jesse. Maybe he figures that with it being Valentine’s Day he should leave us alone, not that we’re doing much today other than laundry and mailing the unemployment form. Work is slow on weekends. It’s a good thing we’re not tight on cash since yet another holiday will be delaying our check a day. I hate November through April when you can’t even go more than a few weeks between holidays!

It’s hard to believe that Andy’s going to be 58 tomorrow, wherever he is, which I assume is either down in Arizona or back east.

Last time I checked all 5 of my stories were in the top 17 out of the 100+ stories there. Yeah, they love me when they don’t have to pay me, LOL. The first one’s coming up on 20,000 views.

D and I swapped a few emails yesterday evening. She said I could write about her; it’s when I slam her to my followers she doesn’t like. I didn’t think I had but will try to make it a point to be as nice as I can, even if she sometimes still frustrates me, LOL. Besides, I don’t “slam” anyone to my followers. I simply write in my journal. And sometimes we get upset with those who are a part of our lives.

Anyway, she said she deleted her journal because she doesn’t like to share her pain. She’s also having a hard time letting go and moving on, which I can relate to. Just seeing that she’s online right now is tempting. I hate to chat yet I’m tempted to jump out at her and say hello seeing that she’s right there. But I know I would be a hypocrite if I did, so I’m sitting on my hands and fighting back the urge. I told her we should drop it to just one email a day since we’re in each other’s thoughts, dreams, and fantasies enough of the time that we don’t need to go flooding our inboxes as well and make moving on even harder.

When I say “moving on,” I don’t mean cutting each other out of our lives. I’m still perfectly open to a visit someday if she’d like to visit. Moving on simply means cutting back on the emails and her keeping her eyes and mind open to a person who can give her what I can’t. If she’s tied up with me all the time, opportunities may pass her by. Besides, I do so much these days that I don’t always have time to chat and swap emails on and off all day, especially during the week.

She sure did invade my dreams last night! I was at some strange camp in Denver, then she was fucking me. Then I was in a house that looked like the Phoenix house, then she was fucking me again.

She said she hates it when she gets hung up on a girl. So this has happened before, huh? I asked her about that and she said not too many times, but when it does she meets someone else and moves on. So this is part of why I’m hoping she’ll meet someone. Not just because I want her to be happy, but so she won’t pester me so much. Besides, even if we could be together right now, am I really that special? Or would she only end up cheating in time?

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2010 Better hurry up and do an entry before Jesse steals the peace and takes my concentration with it. Why do we have to have such an obnoxious landlord who can’t sit still and take a day off? The only time he’s quiet is when it’s either pouring like crazy or hot as hell.

Anyway, I woke up sad today, thinking D was a thing of the past and forever gone from my life. Then I checked my email and there was a message from her. I didn’t smile this time. This time I grinned. She said she couldn’t imagine not saying “hello” from time to time and would still read my journal at times too, if that was okay with me. I told her that would not only be fine, but I would love to keep in touch. I suggested emailing each other once a day, but if that was too much for her I’ll just wait until the next time she feels up to email me. I do miss reading her journal as well and hope she’ll eventually go back to that, but that has to be up to her. Public journaling isn’t for everyone.

I know I could continue to drive myself crazy by asking myself if I truly would feel like a cheater if we got it on right this minute, or would I only feel like I gave into my human side? Well, I decided that the best thing to do would be not to assume and plan so much and just let whatever’s meant to be play itself out. If I ever see her again and if we ever do anything together, then I’ll know how I’ll feel.

Meanwhile, it’s back on with my work, writing, working out – the usual stuff I do.

Later…

So much for D and I being able to stay away from each other, LOL! It was great to hear from her like I did again in the afternoon. It was just enough to touch base, but not so much that it kept me from doing other things.

She had wanted to tell me she stopped following me because she didn’t want me to feel like she was spying or anything like that, but I laughed and assured her that if I didn’t want anyone seeing anything I do online I’d mark it private. This explains why she left Twitter. I was wondering about that, but had just figured she was bored with my tweets.

Cassie, the chick she wants to ask out, is on vacation. Meanwhile, she says she knows she should back off, but that it’s hard to. Yeah, I missed her too, and so I know how it is! I thought of her all day, wondering what she was up to and all that. Horny is what she’s up to, LOL. She joked about maybe showing up at my door and being crazy obsessed with me. I let her know I liked the idea of an Italian hottie being obsessed with me, but that she’d probably find it easier to move on when she meets someone. She doesn’t think so, though. Well, as I told her, I’ll always love her no matter what. I love her about as much as these mother-fucking spiders have been terrorizing me. Yeah, it’s getting bad enough that Tom’s gonna go out and spray tomorrow. Soon we’ll bomb, too.

Anyway, she was nice enough to let me out of the chat thing after not too long, knowing how much I hate the damn thing. It’s still nice to know she’s out there thinking of me. She’s definitely on my mind as well, that’s for sure. I always imagine various scenarios involving her and they’re not all sexual. Sometimes we just talk. Sometimes we take a shower together. Sometimes she just likes to watch me work out while I watch her fix something, impressed by her strength and knowledge as she is impressed by my singing and knack for languages. Oh, all the fun things we get to do within the entertainment region of my brain!

So it’s nice to know she’s hanging out behind the scenes and thinking of me, far away but not forgotten.

It got up to 82º in here, as I told her, and I had to take off my dress, something she approved of. Did I ever tell her I was a stripper for a while? Well, if she’s been reading my bio, she’d know that. What a customer she’d have been to have! If she were here I’d give her the most exotic dance of her life and then some! I may not be much of a cook, and I may not keep up on the cleaning as much as I should, but I can still work those curves of mine.

Back to reality: She is 3000 miles away and I am married.

Life sucks even when it doesn’t, for I still love my husband to death.

But I still also want my tall, dark, utterly hot… Yeah, I know, I know… Move on and keep dreaming!

All 5 of my stories are on page 1 right now. I’m also completely blown away by the fact that Jesse and his brother haven’t been down today.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 2010 I am all teary-eyed right now and feeling like a jerk, but hopeful that I really did do the right thing along with D. Yeah, now she’s back to wanting to be just D, though I don’t get why. I asked if anyone read my journal who knew who she was had a hold on her and could use anything I said against her in any way, but she said no. At first I was thinking, hey, it’s my journal, and was reluctant to change things! But I care about her enough to honor her request.

I had the horrible task of having to choose between doing what I felt was right versus what made me feel good. Well, it didn’t feel at all good to let D go, but she helped make me feel a little less of a jerk by saying she was going to move on anyway and had planned to tell me today. And of course our song has been playing through my head over and over and over and it’s only making me cry harder.

She said that while it’s been a great two months and she doesn’t regret a moment of it, there’s this girl named Cassie who works in a grocery store that has shown interest in her and she’s working up the courage to ask her out.

I don’t regret these last two months either, though the thought of never getting another email from her that puts a smile on my face makes me very sad. I appreciate how well she’s handled this. Others I’ve let go have reacted with childish anger over it and did a fine job of making me feel even guiltier over it. But this case is different. I let others go because they did things to me that I didn’t like. However, I’m letting D go for the same reasons she’s letting me go; so she has the opportunity to move on. I’d hate to see love pass her by because she was preoccupied with me, someone who couldn’t give her the full-time love and attention she wants and deserves. It still hurts and I will be sad for a while, but I know that we’ll both be okay. She knows I’m still here and she can say hello every now and then and let me know how she’s doing, and she did. It’s not like I blocked her on various sites or anything like that. I couldn’t do that. If she wants to knock me off her friend list on Facebook or MySpace, that’s gotta be up to her.

I noticed she emptied her journal out and I feel bad about it even though it’s not like I made her do it or anything. Maybe her reasons for doing it had nothing to do with me in the first place, I don’t know.

Like I said, she’s handling it well, but was wrong in assuming part of what motivated me was her bogging me down and wanting a social life. Yeah, she’s taken up some time and been a bit of a distraction, but it’s been in a fun and interesting way. Sure I get frustrated at times because I want someone I can never have. I want to hold her so bad right now! And sure I sometimes think we shouldn’t email each other as much to keep it more special and to keep us focused on other things at hand, but I assured her that having a social life was not my intention. If anything I have too much of one and it’s been that way long before she came around. When I joined the social sites I joined, it was because of the sweeps and contests. I had no idea it would evolve into what it’s evolved into for me.

Anyway, she thanked me for the great two months and said the decision was hers to let me go, but I helped by saying I wished she would. It was a hard thing to “wish” for, believe me! She also said she knew and understood that I would never leave Tom and wasn’t asking or expecting me to. I know she wasn’t, and I totally believe her when she said she wasn’t expecting anything of me had she come out to visit. She said that had we fucked, fine, if not, that would’ve been fine, too. She also said that to see other states and live in a warmer climate would have been nice, and because we will not be talking anymore she won’t know where I am and I won’t know where she is. So I take it she’s not going to read my journal anymore which is understandable. Some people would find it easier not to know what’s going on with someone they loved, I guess.

I asked Tom for his opinion and he feels I’m too all or nothing and that I’ve always been stubborn in that way and that it’d make it easier to get along with people if I compromised a little more. So I guess the best thing to do then, in the case of D, since she’s not someone who’s abused me or done anything wrong, would be to cut the emails to 5 a day instead of 50, LOL, unless she absolutely insists on never having a damn thing to do with me ever again. She did tell me she’d always love me, and I know I’ll always love her. She also asked if she could still call me babe. Of course she can, I told her.

So we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. She has a right to move on if that’s what she chooses, but I can’t just throw her away. I thought I could for the sake of letting her move on, but I feel that is just too cruel.

Does a part of me still hope she visits? Yes. Does a part of me still wish she’d move here? Yes. But once again, she has to follow her heart for no one else can follow it for her. Meanwhile, I wished her luck with Cassie and if I never hear from her again I’ll never forget the Italian hottie that I, for reasons I’ll never know, fell in love with practically overnight and at 3000 miles away.

Since the late 90s, I’ve been living like a hermit. Or trying to anyway. I’ve pushed away so many would-be friends and kept myself hidden in a shell. I felt it’d be safer this way and cause me fewer headaches in life along the way. But now I realize I also cut off the potential to have some good people in my life as well.

I started dumping those I did know like crazy around this same time. Larry and Jenny taught me this back in the 80s. Not that I’m blaming them for my actions. But after being abandoned in various ways throughout my life, this was pretty much the only example I had set for myself on which to base my own actions.

Looking back on all the people I’ve cut off, I’d still say I did the right thing for the most part, but did I really need to dump Kim and Andy? Or was it just “convenient” to do so? Either way, I’ll have to live with it, though I’m pretty sure at this point that Andy knew he wasn’t going to be friends with me again when he called asking for a tape he also knew I didn’t have. I think he planned to ignore me once I failed to deliver what he knew I couldn’t and that this was his way of giving me a taste of my own medicine.

I am still okay with us not associating with his mother and not just because of how she took advantage of us and all the time and money we lost because of it. It’s her abandoning us in a time of need and leaving us to sink or swim without a care in the world that’s the main reason. What kind of mother can do that to her own son and daughter-in-law? Had we starved in the streets, she wouldn’t have felt the least bit guilty. She would’ve told herself (and others) that she “did her best” all the while she continued to sit on the 100 or so grand that was sitting in her bank. Tom used to do her taxes. Things may’ve changed by now, but she had a ton of money back then and she could’ve helped us if she’d wanted to. But it isn’t just a case of us not having anything to do with her, Mary and the others. It’s them not having anything to do with us as well. They could contact us if they really gave a damn. They could apologize if they really wanted to. I don’t know that I could forgive them as that’s quite a biggie you’re talking about, but I may’ve been willing to at least move on and be polite and cordial if I couldn’t be friendly.

As for my brother and sister; while I feel I’m slowly getting over some of the anger there, they have caused me too much grief to want to resume a relationship with them. My brother always goes back on his word and stabs people in the back, and my sister is a whole ‘nother story, of course. I just can’t associate with someone who helped get me in jail for defending her abuser. If I’d accepted her back into my life last year, I’d have only worried about what she may do if she got pissed at me again which would probably be something like calling the cops to say I was threatening her, her family or her exes. She’d have to have proof, of course, but still, I wouldn’t need those kinds of hassles in my life. She’s just too vengeful and vindictive much in the way that our crazy neighbors were. Instead of ignoring me if she got pissed at something I may say or do, she’d retaliate.

So now that I’ve made this very long and kind of depressing entry, it’s back to doing what I don’t always do best – making whatever money I can depending on what jobs have come in.

Later…

I awoke to find a big fat scary spider sitting on the floor by my stereo. I didn’t want to hit it or spray it for fear of missing and having it take off and go into hiding, so I grabbed the vacuum, all the while praying it wouldn’t move, and sucked it up a moment later.

Spring has sprung and these are part of the consequences of being able to enjoy warmer weather. Bugs are active here year-round, but it’s worse with warmer weather so we’re gonna have to bomb soon.

Yes, spring is in the air and I’m loving every minute of it since it’s still cold at night. It’s sunny and warm right now and it’s saving us money since the heat doesn’t need to run throughout most of the day. It’s 80º in here right now. I’ll kick the fan on if it goes up another couple of degrees, but I like being warm. I also don’t want to open windows as much as I love fresh air, because the warmer we let it get in here, the longer the heat stays off. The propane tank’s gage is back down to 12% and they can’t come out before the week after next. Meanwhile, we did something we should’ve done from the get-go – put more of the cooking bill on Jesse! I had Tom dig the toaster oven out of the shed that we got at the motel to use there. Because I like certain things crispy, I would sometimes use the oven. But this way we’ll save on propane since Jesse pays for the electricity. We’ll still use the regular oven at times, just not as much.

Anyway, it’s nice to finally be warming up again, unlike someone I love dearly back east. Kind of takes the fun out of the saying about “a New York minute” since the winters there last a hell of a lot longer than a minute, LOL! It’s 63º here right now and just 24º there.

Tom found the mail key, so he called the mail place and she canceled the order for the spare.

No one came down here yesterday, but I could hear some kind of engine gunning around 5pm. Not sure what it was or where it came from.

The brothers – or father and brother – came down today for about an hour. They were much quieter because they were working towards the back of the property. I doubt they’d have woken me up had I been asleep. I didn’t even know they were here till they started cutting the wood. There’s still a lot more to cut too, and one piece is so big I think they’re going to need a log splitter for it.

I need to rewrite a huge chunk of the Phoenix part of my bio before posting the next section. Up until now, I thought it wasn’t written too poorly after all, but then I got to this rather disorganized part and decided otherwise. I try to keep all my subjects together, but it’s hard at times if a particular event spans a long period of time. So I’m restructuring certain parts which is quite a bit of work.

Gosh, I’m still so sad at the thought of never hearing from D again, but like she said, she was planning on telling me today anyway that she was ready to move on and so I must let her go. I want her to be happy. I’d rather miss her and know she’s happy, than not miss her and know she’s miserable. I’m just keeping busy to ease the pain, reminding myself that I’ll feel better with time. I’ll never stop loving her. I’ll never stop thinking about her and wondering what her life is like. I’ll never stop hoping she’s got someone who loves her and that she’s happy, healthy and doing well financially. But the pain should ease up with time. Time heals all wounds, even though I’m not sure this constitutes a “wound.”

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2010 I shut down my computer and thought I was ready for bed, but couldn’t sleep. Instead, she was on my mind, invading my thoughts and keeping me awake.

sighs Dilemmas, dilemmas, dilemmas. Do I walk away and set her free so she can find someone available? Or do I take what I can get, even if all that can ever be is an electronic relationship? I’m trying so hard to consider her feelings while considering my own and it’s tough. I never thought I’d be in this situation at 44 years of age! But I don’t think an in-between cyber relationship will work. I think it will have to be all or nothing, and I just don’t know what to do! It’s frustrating at times. She has begged me not to go yet I still wonder if I’m doing either of us any good by sticking around. My life may be passionless right now as it tends to get with age, but I could never love anyone like I love my husband and I would never leave him under any circumstances. Almost anyone who’s been married as long as I have has made the right choice in who they married. Yet gay or straight, we all have our little crushes and attractions along the way. Sometimes we even love some of them. And while she’ll always have a special place in my heart, she and I are never going to be together and that’s that. This is why I hope to hell, for her sake, she meets Ms. Right. I’d really love to see her with someone who makes her as happy as she says I make her. Someone she loves and lusts and that loves and lusts her in return. I know she wants this, too. As I told her, though, Ms. Right better treat her right or I’ll make her sit on a cactus!

Like I said, I just don’t know what to do. She told me that she really wanted to see me but her heart is saying it wouldn’t be wise. In that case, she should follow her heart. What could we do if she came out here anyway? Sure, it would be nice to visit. That much goes without saying. But what else could we do? Stare at each other hungrily and wish we could fuck each other’s brains out? Actually, do just that? Well, I have thought of this, but I think I would feel like I was cheating even though there’s nothing to “cheat” on. My husband and I have been basically damn good, loving friends for a while now and have fallen into a comfortable routine where that’s concerned. So since friends can’t literally cheat on friends, why should I feel guilty?

I don’t know why. I just know I would. At least I’m pretty sure I would. Besides, sex isn’t a top priority for most people my age.

If I were single I wouldn’t hesitate to get it on with her and even try a relationship with her. I don’t know what the relationship would be like. Maybe it’d be great, maybe just so-so, or maybe it’d be a disaster. I’ll never know and I don’t want to find out no matter how much of a “what if” trip I may take within my mind at times about that and all kinds of other things. And I think it’s safe to say we’ve all taken a walk down the “what if” path at times. Maybe me more so than most, since I tend to be highly curious by nature.

As I’ve said many times before, I sometimes think the best thing to do would be to just cut her off so I wouldn’t be around to frustrate her and preoccupy so much of her time with a dead-end, hopeless relationship. I know I personally am getting sick of the 20 emails a day thing. Not because I don’t enjoy hearing from her and what she has to say, but because it’s eating so much of my own time and is very distracting. I have enough of a social life as it is (more so than I’d planned on) and so many other things I both need and want to be doing. We’d miss each other and it would hurt for a while, but we could always peek in on each other’s journals from time to time to see what’s going on in each other’s lives.

Yet I know that if I “dumped” her I’d feel guilty as hell. I don’t want to push her away and make her feel like a piece of shit. She’s human. She has feelings. And I don’t want to hurt her. Yes, I know I need to think of my own self as well, but I don’t want to just throw her away either. Not unless she herself felt she needed to pull away because like I said, I don’t think we could “cut back” on each other. I think that in our case, only all or nothing will work.

A part of me wishes she would take the honors and be the one to cut me off because then I wouldn’t have anything to have the frustration of having to decide. Another part of me wishes we’d never contacted each other in the first place. And yet another part of me doesn’t regret a minute of it and has found it to be just as fun and as interesting as it is time-consuming and annoying.

God, what do I do???

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 2010 While I was proofreading the last chunk of my bio to post earlier today – yeah, it always has to be while I’m trying to work – I could hear the ATV zooming up and down the drive, so I figured there’d be something going on today. Then our pestlord came down, got something from his shit pile, then took off. Before he did, though, Whiskey ran right up to me and said hello. Jesse said they were supposed to be here now (at 10:30) to cut the wood up and wasn’t sure if they’d be around or not. But they showed up shortly afterward and are now driving me nuts with the obnoxious buzzing of the chainsaw, followed by loud thunks as they load the back of the pickup with the wood. It’s actually Jesse’s dad and his brother. Jesse and the dogs are who knows where right now. Jesse had told Tom he thought he might have to work today and tomorrow, but I knew by how quiet it was when I got up that he wasn’t working. He could’ve gone in late, though, cuz if he were here I would think he’d be down here helping.

How many days this particular project will take, I do not know, but does it matter? As soon as they’re done with this it’ll be off to something else, so who cares?

They’re just now leaving (at noon) with a truckload of wood, but there’s still a lot more wood to cut up and it will probably be days before they’re done. I wouldn’t be surprised if they returned later on.

The brother had asked Tom if he’s seen any bobcats around here. I guess some people he knows who don’t live very far from here have seen some, but I’m not worried. Those are nocturnal and I’m never out at night.

Got the few things I ordered from Sephora. I’d say their products are undersized and overpriced, but it was nice to try some of their stuff. The lip stain works great. I can wear my lip gloss over it and you can still see a hint of color. Also, the Tom Ford Black Orchid perfume was to die for, as well as my Pink Sugar.

Last night I realized something about jinx-writing. At least I think I’m onto something where that’s concerned. If I’m right about the pattern I think I’m seeing, then I better get writing if people will stop distracting me long enough. When I thought back to the things I’ve written in stories or letters that have come true or sort of come true, they seemed to have been written “on location.” The story where the chick gets framed and falls for a guard who likes her in return was written where I lived at the time in Phoenix. Some of it took place there anyway, within my mind. I wrote in my parents’ letter that I “did intend to win a vehicle someday” back in the motel, and then we got news that we won the ATV before they gave us a cash equivalent. Then there’s my story with the semi-triangle which I set right here. I purposely had one of the lead characters in yet another story come into enough money to buy a house hoping it’d jinx it into happening, but it didn’t. That one was set in a totally fictitious place. I guess it can’t hurt to do another story set here and bring some serious money into it and see what happens, but right now I have other projects I still need to finish.

Marie always puts a smile on my face and makes me laugh in real life, but in Dreamland last night she did anything but that! Yeah, it was a rather violent dream, LOL, though it was me doing the violence. Well, I tried anyway. I can’t imagine what she could do to piss me off so bad, and I’m not in the habit of throwing punches at someone who’s got 7 inches and 25 pounds on me, but I was furious for some reason. This seemed to amuse Marie, though, who simply caught my fists in midair before they could make contact with her. This pissed me off even more while it made her laugh harder. “What are you gonna do now? Tell me to shove a broom handle up my ass?”

“No, try a pinecone this time, bitch!” I screamed as I tried to pull away.

Then she sternly said, “Calm down, Jodi Lin” and I suddenly felt like an idiot for taking such a childish shitfit, but was kind of turned on at the same time by the way she held me. I woke up before I could learn why I was so pissed at her and what happened next.

It’s kind of funny when I think of how Donna dumped me for writing in my journal in 1992 that she was a bitch, while I told Marie to her face to go shove a broom handle up her ass and she said, “Don’t worry. We all get mad at times.” She is definitely a very loyal and faithful friend. Of course, we also don’t think of each other as just “friends.”

It hit me that while it wasn’t the impression I got, maybe Jan didn’t own the store. And so I messaged Betsy and told her of this possibility, and gave her a physical description of Jan as well. She replied by saying her mother didn’t have long dark hair and she never sold incense and is as conservative as conservative can be.

The reply, as with the first one, seemed legit. With one small catch. What does her being conservative have to do with anything? You know, as in a lesbian writing a story about a woman she has a crush on? Of course, she could’ve read my journal too, I don’t know.

Like I said, I don’t know what to think at this point, but I can’t think of anything else I can do to find her.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 2010 I am sooo happy for Marie right now! She got that really good paying job she wanted and will be working graves! As I told her, I’m so happy for her but so sad for us as we continue to have no choice but to sit here and watch life pass us by. We’re just as capable as the next person yet we can’t have jobs. This is a classic example of what I mean when I sometimes get pissed when people insist God loves everybody and doesn’t single out and pick on anyone. Either way, I’ve already known for some time now that we’re going to be dirt poor the rest of our lives no matter how hard we try to get ahead. Nothing we can do about it. You can’t change fate. So knowing this, why am I still having such a hard time accepting it? Why can’t I accept the fact that some people will go from okay jobs to great jobs while we go from nothing to nothing? It’s not like we never tried to change things. We did. But something up there just won’t let us! It sure feels that way anyway. Hey, somebody’s gotta be the underdog, right? So why not have it be us and not some lazy asshole who doesn’t even want to work! Well, I can always kill myself if I get that sick and tired of being stuck in this rut. It may be hopeless for us, but at least Marie has a shot at getting the things she wants in life. She says she wants a new Jeep Cherokee and that she will be out to see me by the spring of 2012 if the world doesn’t end by then (I sometimes wish it would), sooner if she can swing it. And I was seriously starting to doubt she’d get the job since the interview was weeks ago! I just didn’t want to say anything.

Oh, what the hell, we’ll be alright. Living poorly and without insurance isn’t the end of the world. We’ve done it for years, we can keep on doing it.

Tom just got up and said that Marie’s getting this job should show that that’s a sign of hope and that things are turning around and that we’ll get our turn, too.

Yeah, when?

Jesse and his brother were down yesterday to begin the tree expedition. They dragged up some trees, so their 90-year-old dad can have firewood, and next they have to cut them up. When they do this will depend on the weather. And of course, this may take more than one day to do. Then we’ve still got the fake grass project to deal with, plus whatever other projects he feels he just has to move on to afterward. I really wish we’d been told up front that there would be so much activity on the land and that the dogs would go crazy half the year whenever he leaves. He left yesterday on the motorcycle after working down here, though, and all was quiet, probably because the dogs were all worn out by then.

I had fun playing with the dogs and even took some pictures of them. They sure got us filthy, though, LOL. The ground’s still muddy with all the rain we’ve been having, so when they’d jump on us they’d get dirt on us. I sometimes think it’d be cool to have a dog as big as Whiskey. He can wrap his arms right around my waist and hug me!

The bad news is that the people in back didn’t lose their dogs after all, and Tom saw one of them running around loose. I could hear it barking its ass off, so unless someone was there with it, we may have to deal with them again. They come onto the land and just stand there barking insanely loud at nothing at all. Just like Jesse instructed, I’ll call Animal Patrol if I see them 3 times. It may not cause them to lose them, but it gets them to tie them up if only for a while.

Man, that’s bold. I mean, those are some pretty brazen fucks to STILL be letting their dogs run around loose after not only all the calls and complaints they’ve received but after they attacked Jesse’s dogs AND killed one of the goats up the hill. But as we all know, some people just don’t give a damn about anything or anyone. Not even their own dogs, which amazingly, no one’s shot as of yet. I wonder if they at least try to when they come onto their land, and that’s the few scattered shots I sometimes hear that I know aren’t coming from them.

Later…

I love a good mystery to ponder, but this one’s gotten a bit frustrating! Let me back up and take it from the beginning. When I first looked up Jan I found a Janice Lynn H in Klamath Falls. She was born in 1951 and so was James H, said to be her relative. Also listed as relatives were Betsy, Bradley and Brianne, who range in age from 23-31. I looked everybody up but couldn’t find anything for free for Jan. Just a long email, which is replaced with an * symbol, that you have to pay to see. Not worth paying for, I located and contacted the kids on Facebook, who are definitely related to each other because they’re on each other’s friend lists. I also thought the daughters bore a resemblance to Jan as well.

I also found the husband’s work email and contacted him, though I sent him a letter and the start of the story. For the others, I simply asked to have Jan contact me.

When no one replied a week later, I thought they were simply a bit freaked out by the story and that that was why they hadn’t contacted me. What could they say anyway? On the other hand, wouldn’t you reply and at least let the person know they had the wrong person if you received a letter and a story you knew nothing about?

Then I got a reply from Betsy on Facebook saying her mother never owned a store in K-Falls. Also, her name was Janice, yes, but she goes by Lynn. While it may be ironic that I get this right after replying to the bogus feedback, I searched again and found a Janis I H born in 1954, also in K-Falls. What was strange was that that same long email addy was associated with this name as well.

I looked up all addresses I could find for both Jan’s and viewed them by satellite to see if any appeared to be a duplex since she had said she lived in one, but couldn’t tell from the pictures.

I searched myself to see what relatives came up. Nothing came up for my maiden name in MA, and the only one that came up with my married name was in AZ and that was one of Tom’s brothers.

This leaves 3 possibilities. 1. Jan had Betsy tell me what she told me to throw me off and into thinking I’d contacted the wrong Jan and the wrong family members. 2. They really are the wrong Jan and the wrong family members. 3. I’m remembering the wrong last name.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 2010 I saw Marie online and couldn’t resist saying hi on Messenger, but we missed each other. We’ve been swapping emails, though, as usual.

I got a kick out of how she described me as her “sweet, sometimes mouthy Jodi Lin” in her journal. Yeah, I’m sometimes mouthy, alright, LOL! She cracks me up with some of the things she says.

An old friend from Kiwibox (Andree in Canada) joined LiveMocha and sent me a friend invite. I still can’t believe they’re ignoring my messages about not getting my free travel course for the 3 referrals. I didn’t think they’d pull such a scam. How do they expect people to go premium if they’re just going to ignore and rip people off?

I had another “walk on our land” dream last night. Now why can’t I have more of them?! One problem, though. There were playing cards scattered all over it for some reason, LOL. Mostly aces.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 2010 My man is snoring like a freight train right now and my lady is working and looking forward to the Super Bowl (boring). I hope her Colts make her happy and win anyway!

Speaking of Marie – and I guess she wouldn’t mind my saying this much – I won’t say why, but I got pissed at her and told her to go shove a broom handle up her ass (Tom thought that was mean). I was prepared for the consequences of blowing up like that to result in her telling me off and maybe even dumping me, but instead she took it quite well and even got a bit of a kick out of it, asking where I come up with some of the shit I come up with. Guess it’s just the creative writer in me, LOL!

Anyway, this is just one more reason I love her; she lets me get mad when I need to, just like she lets me express my fears and worries when I need to. Not that I could ever regret Tom, but it totally figures that I would just have to meet what sure seems like the woman of my dreams 15½ years AFTER getting married.

I’ve always had those “naughty girl” fantasies where whenever I’d get pissed at a woman (and we all do get pissed at each other at times), I’d get to go off on her. Then, instead of flying off the deep end she’d laugh and get me laughing as well.

The way she said, “I’m here if you need anything” after reading the entry about my dad was totally touching. No one’s ever cared about me like that other than Tom. They’ve cared, but not really, really cared. They’d say something like, “Hope your dad’s okay,” which is fine and certainly better than nothing. But “I’m here if you need anything” definitely isn’t something I’m used to hearing.

The way she says, “I love you, Jodi Lin,” using both my first and middle name has a way of really sending my heart aflutter and the dirtiest of thoughts racing through my mind.

I tease her about being a profitable girlfriend cuz she joined one of those money-making sites that helps me earn more because of it.

Holy shit, I just realized something. Nothing bad, but certainly strange and uncanny in a way. When I use real-life characters in my books I never like to have anything bad happen to those I love because I’ve actually jinx-written certain things to happen, and like I said before, life really does have a way of imitating art at times. When discussing the plot for Rainbow Dreams, I consulted with Tom, as I often do, for various ideas. I wasn’t sure whether or not to go with a murder mystery or a triangle of sorts, though it sort of ended up being a little of both. Tom and I both agreed that I was too old to be caught up in any kind of a triangle, not that I’m in a position to meet many people anyway, and not that I’d ever get caught in any kind of a dangerous triangle or anything like that if I were. But it’s still quite a coincidence that Marie comes along and here I am, twice blessed, twice loved, and feeling torn at times while I know I could never leave Tom. Frustrated is more of an appropriate word than torn, I guess you could say. I want them both!

Tom’s ear is finally getting better enough that he can get more of his own work done. He was so deaf in that ear that he lost our mailbox key. It was in the pocket on the side of the infected ear and he never heard it fall to the floor. Fortunately, it’s only $5 to get a new key.

Last night I dreamt that I saw Tammy somewhere. We were actually talking about something, though I don’t know what it was about or where we were. We were polite and civilized, though not friendly. As I started to walk away I abruptly turned around, walked back to her, and gave her a hug. She hugged me too, then I walked off. “Your hair’s too long again, you bitch,” she joked to my retreating back. Without turning back I raised an arm, flipped her off, but kept on walking.

I was reading some of the shit they wrote to me last summer when we were all pissed at each other, particularly Sarah’s message and I’m like, never had an aunt, my ass. I’m sorry but I sent those kids letters regularly, I called the house regularly, and sometimes I sent little gifts. Who does she think she’s kidding? That shit wasn’t from Santa Claus.

On the other hand, she would’ve been too young to remember much. That’s why I laughed when she tried to say she remembered “the letters I’d send.” The only one she could possibly remember was the one from Oregon which I sent 4-5 years ago that wasn’t the least bit rude or mean. I might’ve said some things they didn’t want to hear, but the letter, which my folks also received a copy of, was proper and polite in every way. So unless someone sent a nasty letter pretending to be me, someone somewhere is bullshitting someone.

I’m pissed at the language learning site I use. I was supposed to get a free travel course for 3 referrals but never received it. So all I ended up doing was wasting Marie, Paul and Dorian’s time. Sorry guys!

Read Alison’s second chapter of her story which is total Harlequin/Silhouette romance material, and Paul sends me chapters from Changeling, the book he’s working on now, as he completes them. Man, I wish I could crank out as much as he does and so fast! As I told him, it’s obvious he doesn’t have ADHD.

Dorene, not the one who was at Valleyhead the same time I was there, thought my Facebook account had been hacked. I guess she didn’t realize that Formspring was supposed to be posting updates there, but yeah, it posts to FB and Twitter.

I have a really good story idea (this one actually came while I was awake) and even a title to go with it: Digital Confessions. But I have the story in Italy and the Jan story to work on. Why do I have to get ideas faster than I can put them into print?

The Jan story’s on hold right now because I’m not sure where to go next with it. I’ve been getting some suggestions and some ideas of my own, but I tend to write in spurts anyway, so it could be several months before it’s complete.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 2010 I called Dad yesterday and our chat left me both happy and sad. I was very sad to hear he’d had yet ANOTHER heart attack and was laid up in the hospital for a week. But I was very happy to hear him sounding so chipper and jovial. He seemed coherent enough and even talked sort of like an excited kid would, going from subject to subject. He was always less reserved when mom wasn’t around. She was at the store when I called.

I guess they were getting worried because they tried calling for days, but no one answered. So I reminded him yet again – yeah, his memory’s getting shaky – that we keep our ringers off cuz we get so many wrong numbers and sales calls unless we’re expecting a specific call. I also let him know I had a list of contacts I carried in my purse so that if Tom and I were ever killed in a car wreck, God forbid, they would be notified.

I was starting to get worried about them too, cuz it had been a couple of months since we talked. They haven’t written either, though I know most people hate to write.

We talked about all kinds of things, mainly the economy and our hopes for the future. He told me a couple of things that were funny even though they’re not. His roommate in the hospital kept reciting the bible and waking him up, LOL. I can empathize and relate to this, too! I had a celly in jail that would recite 100 Hail Marys every hour, sometimes waking me up. No problem, though, cuz every time dinner was served, I just had to use the toilet. grins I told him I’m not only sorry I couldn’t visit but that I couldn’t have maybe accidentally slipped a few feeder mice in the guy’s bed that had accidentally fallen into my pocket on the way in. Or at least have fun joking about the idea!

Their low of 29º was even funnier. That’s only 2º warmer than the low of 27º we had in December!

He assured me things would turn around, which is what Tom says, and I hope they’re right. It’s sure taking forever, though!

What left me feeling sad is knowing that there are only so many more heart attacks he can survive, and the deadly one is only inevitable and just a matter of time. When I hung up it hit me that that could’ve been our last talk. Despite our past problems, it sucks not to be able to run over and visit if only long enough just to say hi and give them a hug, but like he said, there’s still the phone and the mail.

I even got to thinking about Tammy and how we used to talk and bust each other’s asses when we’d tease each other about whatever, and said to myself, “Come on, get over the past. What’s done is done. She’s not perfect, you’re not perfect, everybody fucks up at times, so just move on and accept that.” But I know it wouldn’t be good for either of us as we’re just too different and it’d only be a matter of time before we got into another fight or one of the kids accused me of some stupid thing I didn’t do. My inability to forgive has been an issue for a while now anyway, and I still wonder if a big part of me actually likes it this way. Either way, I hope Tammy and the kids are doing well.

When I think about us owning a house around the time he’s 55 in 2½ years, it seems like it would have to happen, since A, he should be working by the time he’s 54 to give him the year of work he’d need to take out a loan. B, our credit should be good. And C, we should get around 20K in pension money. So with all these things being very likely to occur, wouldn’t it be safe to say that “going home” is a perfectly reasonable expectation? Could be, but with one possible catch and that’s that the house may not be the ideal house or in the ideal location. I’d still prefer either a retirement community or to get some land with some space around the house. The last thing I want is an old bummy “tooth house” jammed in tightly between other houses in the mainstream where it’d be back to non-stop car stereos, barking, wild kids, and a whole lot more.

But it would be OURS!

Eileen just sent an email saying, “I just finished reading Rainbow Dreams. It held my attention and I was interested in the characters. Having read your journal I was able to connect the dots! Thanks for sharing!”

My next subject is Marie. She frustrates me and eats up a lot of my time and it’s starting to get old. Yet I know I’d miss her if I cut her off and that that would hurt her immensely. I asked if she thought she’d be better off if I did let her go so she could be free to concentrate on finding someone else who’s available, but she begged me not to go. She did, however, say that there’s this cashier that seems interested in her, and some married chick who’s curious.

I still want to see her, but I’m also afraid she may complicate things even more if she did visit, and especially if she moved nearby.

When I told her of my feelings, she wondered if it were a Dear John letter, and a part of me wanted to say, “Fuck this shit and fuck you! Go shove a broom handle up your ass, and then find the light at the end of the tunnel you know is waiting for you!”

I hope she’s right about that light being there too, and that she’s just got to find it. It’s bad enough to know you’ll never realize a certain dream in life, but even worse to have false hope. She could simply be meant to be alone forever, as sad and as unfair as that may be. God gives us certain things and He denies us certain things, too. I don’t know why, but God gave me love, looks and brains while He took lust, money and sleep from me.

As jealous as I’d be, I really do hope Marie finds someone who is single and available to her that she loves and that loves her in return. What’s really frustrating Marie right now is Melanie. First Mel was all emotionless about the thought of Marie leaving, but then she started crying and saying that even though they haven’t been together, her being there makes her happy. Yet Marie’s not happy and she wants out. The only problem with that is that her only way out right now is on the streets, and that’s certainly no alternative for her.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 2010 Not much to update today. Dad left a message yesterday saying I didn’t have to call back, he was just checking in, and everything was okay on his end. But I think I’ll call them anyway later on today and touch base since it’s been a while. I’m glad he called. I was starting to get a little worried and thinking of calling anyway. We talk every few months or so and I try to write every month.

Eileen hadn’t responded to my stories because they never made it to her and she’s been preoccupied with having to take her husband to the ER. I re-sent them to her and she confirmed that she got them. I hope her hubby’s okay!

The 3 stories I wrote with Marie in mind are now published on girl-directory and already made the top 3 spots! They’re the only 5-star stories right now.

Tom ran into Jesse at the fork when he was bringing the trash up (what, is he waiting in the drive for us now? LOL) and he said he may be down to drag up the dead trees a few hours later after he gets his kid, but if he was, I miraculously slept through it. I don’t think he was, though. He was nice enough to say that he’d make sure I was up when he comes to push the fake grass strips into place. That was nice, but I’m sure he’ll wake me up enough of the time anyway with all the many projects he’s got going. He’s not going to be able to do much over the next few days, though, with all the rain we’ve been having.

Because Marie was a very good girl by signing up at another of those money sites, I promised her a chat this morning, LOL, though I’d still chat even if she were bad! I got her letter yesterday. It’s so nice to have something tangible from her. The letter smelled good, too.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 2010 Paul reviewed my story and said I was getting better at hanging chapters. I guess I must be doing better at portraying characters since flakey is exactly what I had in mind for the Scarlett character. Still gotta work on the dead action thing, though.

There were only a few changes I made in his edits. For once, he threw that Celtic word in, and there was also one misspelled word and an extra space between a few words/sentences. I also changed one word from the English spelling to the American spelling. That’s the only thing that makes following his books a little hard at times, despite how well they’re written. US and UK English differ.

I’m sure there’s more about the story I’m forgetting to mention, so I’ll add anything I think of later on. I’m still not even sure where to go next with it.

Tom emailed me a really neat article showing this huge rodent. I’ve never heard of the thing, but it’s called a capybara and is a semi-aquatic rodent of South America. It weighs about a hundred pounds and is about 2 feet tall. It’s not as cute as a rat, but it must be pretty mellow to be sitting next to a guinea pig. A rat would attack a guinea pig and cannot be mixed with other animals, while I’ve been able to mix rabbits, guinea pigs and hamsters before, as well as mice and guinea pigs. You can’t mix hamsters and gerbils either. Tom wants one of these, but I don’t know where you’d find one or enough about them to say what they’re like. Of all the rodents I’ve had for pets, rats are still by far the best cuz of their high intelligence. I also think they’re way cuter than guinea pigs and other rodents. I’d be afraid of getting bit by something so big, though. A rat can break your finger. This thing looks like it could bite your arm right off! And how does the owner keep it from chewing up her house? Sorry, but all rodents love to chew, though some are worse than others. Puerco’s the worst we ever had in that department and that’s why I can’t let him lose much.

Marie emailed me a copy of a graded paper and asked my opinion on her writing. As she herself admits, she’s not much of a writer as opposed to a forensics person. As I told her, though, her vocabulary and grammar seem good, but her sentence structuring needs work. She runs too much together and doesn’t always use proper use of caps, paragraphs and punctuation.

We were talking about our lives, both past and present, and our hopes for the future. “You never know,” I told her. “I just might be wife #3 in your next life.”

She said, “No, you’ll always be my #1.”

Aw, how sweet.

So anyway, knowing she’s going to be busy since she has a couple of assignments due on Friday, I’m going to be working on other things. Work’s been kind of sucky so I’m doing mostly writing.

Tom is still asleep, of course, and if Jesse isn’t working, all will remain peaceful at least until he goes out. That’s usually between 9am - noon on non-workdays, according to Whiskey.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 2010 I cut my bangs back and I guess I’m backing up Jesse’s shit tank, too. Oops! But I thought tampons were both sewer and septic-safe! Tom ran into him when he was cleaning up some brush in the drive, and he said something to the effect of being careful what we put down it. He also said he disconnected his landline because he didn’t see the point in paying for both that and his cell while he wasn’t working.

Hmm… could Mr. King of the Hill not be so well off after all? Even we can afford an extra $40 a month.

Tom took the car in for emissions inspections and it passed, even though California’s one of the toughest places to pass emissions.

If all goes well, this will be my second day without backaches. Tom’s kind enough to offer to rub my back for me when it gets bad, but it doesn’t relieve it for long.

I chatted with Marie for an hour yesterday morning on Yahoo’s messenger, then I got the pictures her coworker took of her which came out great. She certainly looks fine for her age! There was even a little video and I had to laugh because when I mentioned it to her she said, “Shit! A video? I didn’t know that. I must’ve looked like a dufus.”

I forwarded it to her so she could see that she didn’t look like a dufus at all. It was only for two seconds, though, and mostly focused on the floor, but it was nice to see my Marie in motion for a second there and to hear her deep sexy voice.

I let her in on contacting Jan’s husband with the story and together we laughed at the reaction Jan must’ve had on account of the whole thing. After all, I can’t share it with Mr. Paranoid here. At least not yet. She said, “Geez, Jodi, you got brass ones! Her eyes were probably the size of silver dollars.”

I showed her a copy of the letter and she said it was a very nice letter and not at all perverted. Oh yeah, I would never send anyone a perverted letter, LOL. Well, maybe just to her.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 2010 I went back into Jigsaw to see if anything had changed, and to my surprise, it had. I had marked Jim’s email as no good and someone updated it to a good one. I didn’t think it would be on a Sunday. So, I sent the letter/story and wish to hell I could’ve been a fly on the wall when Jan heard about it and read the story!!! I can’t guarantee that that was really her husband I sent it to or that she even heard about it if it was, but I’d say there’s a pretty damn good chance it was and that she read the story, too. If it wasn’t him, wouldn’t he have replied saying I had the wrong person? Well, if no one contacts me I’m not going to contact them. I accomplished my goal; to let her know I liked her, give her my journal link, and share the start of the story she inspired.

Man, I wish I could know what she thought of it if she did read it. Was she impressed? Spooked? Amused? Flattered? Disgusted? Angry?

I hope she wasn’t spooked, angry or disgusted, but I don’t know much about her, so how she took it would depend on how open she is to another woman being attracted to her and including her in a story she wrote. I can’t control how she feels and will never know just what she does feel. Whatever it is, I’m not surprised I didn’t get a reply. I really wasn’t expecting one.

Had a dream that I hope to hell was just a nasty dream and not a sign of trouble to come. Usually, when I have dream premonitions warning of trouble ahead, they’re of a quick scene that makes sense as opposed to a series of disjointed images like I had this time around, but it was still scary enough. Scary enough to drive me out of bed after just a few hours of sleep and run crying to Tom, although he assured me we’re fine.

I guess we were running out of food and something went wrong with our finances and we knew there’d be no way we could get any money before the food ran out, and therefore, we would starve to death. In real life, we wouldn’t let ourselves starve to death if there was no way we could afford to eat and survive. We’d kill ourselves and get it over with quickly rather than let ourselves suffer and slowly die off. But I guess that’s what was happening in the dream. I told myself to do this and do that cuz in a few days I wouldn’t have the strength to do anything.

But then the dream changed to us temporarily moving into an apartment until we died, which fortunately makes no sense. If we couldn’t afford to eat, we couldn’t afford to move. Not even to the tiniest, dumpiest apartment around.

Then, what looked like a totally fictitious character from a book of mine, was pulling a 50-foot electrical cord from her place to ours so we could have electricity.

Then things really got terrifying when the earthquake hit in the next dream. I guess I had been knocked out cuz when I slowly came to, I found my legs pinned beneath a boulder. I heard shouts all around me, including Marie’s. I couldn’t see her, but I recognized her voice. I began to cry for help and saw one of the paramedics look at me then turn to others I couldn’t yet see and say, “No, there’s no one left alive in this area. She’s the only one we got.”

So now I’m freaking out over the thought of Tom being dead, wanting to die myself if that were the case, begging them not to save me. But then Marie jumped into view and after hopelessly begging someone to help lift the rock off me in the midst of all the commotion, she turned into the bionic woman out of sheer frustration and determination and lifted the boulder off saying, “Hang on, babe. We’re gonna get you out of here and then you’ll go home with me.”

I told her that I loved her dearly, but insisted that I wanted to die if Tom was gone and that I would be too much money for her to deal with anyway if I could no longer walk. She wouldn’t hear it, though. She just threw the boulder aside with superhuman strength and started dragging me down this hill, and that’s all I remember.

So I went from starving with Tom to hopelessly begging Marie not to save me.

Like I said, I ran crying to Tom like a kid and he not only reassured me but said he had to leave Jesse a note about not paying the rent till the 5th cuz his phone’s been disconnected. So then I go freaking out about that next, wondering if he’s losing the place, but Tom pointed out that that’s not a possibility. He’d have told us, and we’re still connected down here, so he might’ve changed the number or decided his cell phone was enough. Yeah, I suppose he has a point there. After all, I always did say he seemed well off with his fancy house and fleet of vehicles.

It took me a while to fall back asleep. I was shaking and crying and hoping to God we’ll be okay. The thought of stressing out over our survival for the rest of my life, assuming we really do survive in the first place, is a real killer on me! Not that I didn’t have other problems before leaving Arizona, but I miss the days when worrying about our survival wasn’t one of them. I guess we’re good with the unemployment checks till July or September. I don’t have to be a political, financial or economical wizard to know there’s no way Tom’s going to find work this year. No way. And so I still live in the fear that they’ll cut us off before he does. The government’s crazy like that. They don’t care if millions of their own end up starving in the streets. All they care about is giving our money to other countries and taking care of them! No one could help us if they cut our checks cuz they’re either struggling themselves, or they could help us, but just don’t give a damn and are probably keeping their fingers crossed and praying that we don’t make it.

But I also know we can’t live forever and yeah, we might have to kill ourselves to escape starving in the streets. Or we may get cancer in a decade or so instead and die that way. Or we may live to be incredibly old. Either way, we all gotta go someday, and I also know that even if we suddenly had all the financial security in the world, we’d just go right into a whole new problem for me to worry about.

Marie.

I can’t get her off my mind. I love and lust for her like crazy! It hurts knowing we can never be together and that it can never be her that I sometimes go running crying to when I freak out over nightmares, but just to have her in my life is a tremendous blessing in itself. Marie may not have the perfect life any more than I do, but I feel very blessed to have someone like her care about me the way she does along with Tom. Not that I haven’t met others who cared about me, but until Marie, Tom was the only other one who truly loved and accepted me as I was without conditions. I fantasized about a woman like Marie for so long but was sure she didn’t exist.

Well, I hope the financial security and home I’ve also fantasized about exists, too!

[nathank77]

7/9/24

9:34 a.m Edited/Added to

So the hearing test I have appearantly excellent hearing yet it appears based on the graphs that it's a little worse than it was last time but not by much. It's frustrating cause I think I'd benefit from them but I don't meet the threshold. He doesn't even want a follow up, I can call if something seems off. I guess my tubes have cleared up which is nice.

My "perception" of hearing was marked as abnormal. That's the fucked part. He kept asking if I had something else in the background that would muffle sound and make it harder to hear. I didn't mention the hallucination bc- if i can hear you clearly, it drowns it out. If you're a room over it takes the person's voice. I didn't want to be labeled as crazy I want my medical files to be free of auditory hallucinations. Also it never steals the voice of someone I can hear clearly. Ever. It only does when the voice is too quiet.

The problem herein lies that until you can't hear anything under 26 decibels you have excellent hearing... and I'm right below the threshold so I'm still considered to have normal hearing despite hearing loss. I'm frustrated but whatever. Maybe in a year I'll call and see. I really wanted hearing aids cause I have to turn everything up louder and it's not due to the hallucination. The hallucination doesn't help.... but it doesn't drown out sound. The voice isn't loud I can just hear it clearly and only when something isn't louder than it. The test speaks for its self compared to last time it got worse. But whatever. Beyond that why do I have to turn up every device I have louder than I used to? Bc I'm right under the threshold. It's really obnoxious.

I got my new heart monitor thing and I put it on, I woke up with my chest feeling itchy af... and a poor skin contact reading. I removed it at 2 in the morning my skin was red and irritated. I'm starting to think I'm not going to be able to participate in the study and therefore I won't ever find out what's wrong with my heart. I mean the er picked up PVCs... so I mean even if it is straight panic attacks something is happening... I got to call cause I took Melatonin and Benadryl after removing the device, it almost took a hour to fall back to sleep and I wasn't going to fully wake myself up calling them. I got to check if there is a rash. Idk what to do. I didn't even sweat.

I planned out a game day today but once again I don't feel like gaming bc of my hallucination. I'm just watching ink master about to call the heart place and see what I can do bc I think I'm at the end of my rope for sensitive skin options.

No luck with dating go figure and I'm overwhelmed trying to find 2 therapists to replace Erin or just one who can see me twice a week... I'm still seeing the pre license but she's 26 and it's off putting working with someone younger than me. It was off putting working with mike and Kristen at first simply bc they are only a few years older than me.

I'm meeting with someone with 25 years of experience soon hopefully it's a good fit.

Anyways I feel really hopeless. I almost want to buy hearing amplifiers but I'm broke af. Really broke. Super broke. I can't afford to buy a 1$ thing of soap at the dollar store, let alone go to the MacBook store for my apple care...if I want to eat this month.

So it's whatever. I got a lot of appointments and shit this week. And I'm thinking about joining a local mentally ill place near me but it's work oriented... that's the problem I just want a place that I can go and paint, color, draw and talk to people without having IOP or something slapped on my record. I need to meet people but I dont need any counts against me on my medical file for being mentally ill, a psych ward hold is enough I would never do anything related to mental health but individual therapy at this point bc it would suggest potentially I can't take care of myself and I lack competency.

I wish hallucinating wasn't ruining my whole gaming experience and my passion..I wish I could meet someone. If I don't game I'm watching ink master all day cause I mean- I deserve a relaxing day I just wish I could enjoy gaming again but you try being immersed when all you hear is happy birthday if there isn't dialogue. It truly ruins everything. Busy work keeps my brain active on whatever task I'm doing and helps me ignore it bc I'm thinking about a lot of stuff.

I'll be busy the rest of the week so I'm hoping I can get motivated to play a game but last time it felt like a chore with the hallucination... a true chore.

Why can't I meet someone? It would be amazing if I had someone to talk to and someone to hang out with once a week. It would make a huge difference. I'd only join prime house to meet someone less crazy than me and find a gf. But it's kinda like going to a bar, you're going to meet Bar flies. At a crazy house, you're going to meet crazies. Not dateable people.

[limalosershq]

WELCOME, KEY! OR IS THAT KURT HUMMEL? EITHER WAY, YOU'RE A LIMA LOSER AROUND HERE NOW! Remember to look at our checklist here and then send in your account within 24 hours, if you need more time just let us know! That way I can send you the link to the discord server and you can get to plotting with everyone there. We all look forward to rping with you and once again, welcome to the mayhem of show choir!

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

NAME/ALIAS: Key or Kyran, either works. PROUNOUNS: they/them AGE (21+): 26 TIMEZONE: EST ACTIVITY: 7. I work 32 hours a week so keep that in mind, but other than that, I can be very active.

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

NAME: Kurt Elizabeth Hummel FACECLAIM: Troye Sivan AGE/BIRTHDAY: 22, 1/11 GLEE CLUB: New Directions SONG CHOICE: Express Yourself by Madonna MAJOR/MINOR/GRADE: Fashion design with a minor in music, he’d be a junior. LOCATION: Still lives at home, commutes to school. OCCUPATION: Barista at the Lima Bean. CLUBS/EXTRACURRICULARS/SPORTS: Fashion & Design club, GSA

LIST AT LEAST 3 HEADCANONS ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER!

Kurt has hand-made all of his clothing since he was 15 years of age, and learned how to sew originally from his mother. He turns to fashion to honor her legacy just as much as he does it for himself.

Kurt is allergic to most pets, though not to a deadly extent. Just enough that he wouldn’t elect to get a pet of his own.

Kurt originally came out of the closet at the age of 15 and suffered a great deal of bullying at his high school. He sees college as his first chance to really be as open as he can about himself.

QUESTIONS

IS THIS WHERE YOU PICTURED YOURSELF RIGHT NOW IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF THINGS?

Honestly, yes and no. I always knew one day I’d be studying fashion, and that I’d be top of my class while doing so. That was never a question for me. What I’m not too happy about is the job front… I mean, I swear I saw a rat in the Lima Bean at one point. It’s a travesty. I need the money though, that’s not negotiable.

HOW’RE YOU FEELING ABOUT ALL THE SHOW CHOIR RIVALRY?

May the best team win, as they say. I do think a lot of the pettiness and backstabbery is very immature for people that are all fully grown adults, but competition is fierce. I know if I was up against someone with everything on the line, people might not see a very pretty side of mister Kurt Hummel.

WOULD YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF A LIMA LOSER? WHERE EXACTLY IS YOUR LIFE HEADED, OR REALLY, WHERE SHOULD IT BE HEADING?

For a good portion of my life I’ve definitely felt like a Lima loser. People all around me all but assured me that I didn’t matter, that I was worthless as a person. But I don’t know, I don’t think like that anymore. I plan to apply to Vogue next year and I hope I get in. If I get there, there’s no way anyone could refer to me as a Lima loser.

[mazegays]

could've followed my fears all the way down

hi everyone!! so, a quick question/vote for yall regarding the next couple of updates: would you a) prefer two chapters over two days, one saturday and one sunday b) two chapters in one day c) skip an update this is because i have realized that one of my update days is a day i will be attending a concert, so it is not very likely that i will remember to update. if you pick a or b, that will be the next update in two weeks, and c means that you'll get the chapter 28 on time and chapter 29 will be posted four weeks after that.

Chapter 27

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28

“How are we going to tell him?” Minho hasn’t been able to figure out how, exactly, they’re going to tell Thomas about the Tree. The one they planted when they thought he was dead.

It should have been done sooner. It’s been long enough now that it’s going to seem like they’ve been keeping it from him on purpose. They should have told him before he was well enough to be able to demand to go see it immediately.

Minho knows they’ve messed up. He just doesn’t know how they’re going to fix it.

“I don’t know,” Gally says, “Just coming right out and saying it seems wrong. Should we take him down there and show him before explaining?”

“Explaining first would take the shock out of the whole thing, it might make it easier when he does see it.”

Minho’s not really sure how they’ve kept Thomas away from the Tree the whole time—he’s been able to walk around on his own for a while now, at least short distances, but they haven’t brought him to the firepits at all.

“We can’t hide it forever. I’m surprised he doesn’t know about it already.”

“I’m not saying we should. He’s only been to the greenhouse, though, he wouldn’t have been able to see it. And who wants to tell their friend about a memorial tree for them?”

He sees Gally shake his head out of the corner of his eye. “Well, there’s certainly not a handbook for that.”

Maybe they’re overthinking this. Maybe it’ll all be fine, and Thomas won’t really react aside from being upset that they planted the wrong type of tree in a very wrong spot.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay, Gally.” He tries, but he doesn’t really believe himself. He loves Thomas, really, but he’s not exactly known for having measured reactions.

“You’re back!” Thomas lights up when he sees him, which is very cute, and Minho feels Gally straighten up at his side.  “Anya’s cleared me to work in the kitchen again, and I only have to wear this shucking sling for six hours a day now!”

“What, you got bored of reading all day?” Gally teases, and it’s like he wasn’t fretting just a few moments ago.

Minho’s pretty sure Thomas is the only person who can make both of them relax that quickly.

“Frypan will be glad for your help,” He tells Thomas, earnestly. It’s nice to see him this excited about something.

They haven’t had much cause to be excited, ever. Especially not recently. For once, their luck was good enough that Thomas’s injuries hadn’t gotten too much worse when Rosa moved him, but it still set back his healing.

“She also told me not to go down to the fire pits alone, that there’s something you needed to show me there.” Thomas narrows his eyes.

They’re not getting out of this one.

Anya meant well, as she usually does, but Minho would have liked to be the first to mention it to Thomas.

“Maybe it’s something better shown than explained,” Gally says slowly, like he’s not sure what else to tell Thomas.

“Well, it’s not that bad, is it?” Thomas studies them for a moment before going back inside.

Minho doesn’t know what he saw, and he’s not sure he wants to.

Neither of them follow for a long moment.

This is not going to go well.

finish on ao3 or under the cut

Thomas has been isolated from the wider community for months, with only their friends, really, as company.  Jorge, when he had the time to spare.

Not that any of them really spend a lot of time with people outside of their fellow Maze survivors outside of their jobs; they’ve had each other, and that’s been okay.

He can’t look at the forest without panicking, which rules out moving to Gally’s cabin—at least for now.

“Minho, what do we do if he freaks out?” He hisses. Thomas really doesn’t need to hear this.

“We’ll handle it, like we always do. We’re good at calming him down now.”

“Okay, but it’s a tree. Thomas hasn’t done well with any trees, lately.”

Which really sucks, because Thomas had planned a nice setup around both this cabin— he’s not sure he can call it theirs  yet, they’ve hardly talked about anything— and his.

“He hasn’t had a panic attack in front of everyone before.”

“One, it won’t be everyone, two, the medical cabin is nearby if we need to go somewhere to help him through it, three, everyone here has had a panic attack before, they’ll understand.”

“He’ll hate everyone seeing.”

“He will, but that’s why we’ll move him if we can.” How is Minho being this calm, this rational, about all of this?

Gally doesn’t know, but he knows he knows better than to think this isn’t affecting Minho.

Just because he doesn’t show it, doesn’t mean it’s not happening.

He used to get so upset when he couldn’t get a rise out of Minho. Now, he knows it’s a well-practiced front on Minho’s part, not that Gally’s words and actions just didn’t affect him.

“I just— I don’t want him to get hurt more, Minho.”

“I know. I don’t, either, but we can’t keep him here forever, and I don’t want to. He likes being with our friends and helping out. He’s going to find out.”

“Are… is something wrong?” Thomas glances between them, brow furrowed.

He knows something’s wrong, of course, he’s too good at reading them by now not to know.

“We’re just not sure how you’ll react to what we have to show you.” Minho answers.

“Then tell me about it first.” This time they do follow him inside. He sits cross-legged on the bed, watching them.

“It’s something we did while you were missing.” Minho starts, then corrects himself. “... When we thought you were dead.”

“Like a memorial?”

“Yeah, exactly like that.” Gally’s not sure how the words make it out of his mouth.

Why is this so terrifying?

“And you couldn’t tell me why?” Thomas is defensive now, tone sharp.

Oh.

He thinks it’s an insult to him that they didn’t tell him, that they think he can’t handle it.

(Isn’t that exactly what they think, though?Isn’t that what they’ve been worried about this  whole time?)

“We weren’t sure what you would think, Thomas.” Minho says. He sits on the bed, and though Gally doesn’t think they’re doing it on purpose, they lean into each other a little bit. “It’s not really decorated—we found you before we could let ourselves think about putting your stuff on it or anything like that. But we weren’t sure how to tell you.”

“We didn’t want you to think we’d wanted you dead, or anything.” Gally takes the other side of the bed, and is gratified when Thomas turns to him. “We didn’t, we don’t, but it’d been long enough that we didn’t know what else to think.”

“Sonya told me about the big one.” Thomas murmurs. “She said it all felt fake. I thought you might have done something, it makes sense.

Gally almost wants to shake him.

This is one of the things he just doesn’t get about both Thomas and Minho; they can, at least outwardly, completely disconnect emotion from everything else. He’s only seen them do it when something bad happens to them, though.

Anyone else, and they’ll be as angry or sad or whatever else it is that they need to be. They both still react in anger, fear, whatever it is, but it’s lessened when it’s something they think they can take apart logically.

‘It makes sense’ that they thought he was dead?

Well. Yes, it does, but Gally would have been hurt by the fact that it hadn’t even been two weeks and they were already metaphorically burying him.

He can name all the times he’s seen Thomas upset because someone did something to him, and most of those he caused.

“Thomas,” He whispers, not willing to speak louder. Minho shoots him a look, probably knowing what he’s going for.

They can’t ignore this.

Some days, Gally wakes up earlier just to watch Thomas sleep, because he’s still there, breathing, alive, and his corpse isn’t rotting somewhere in the forest where they’ll never find it.

Minho does it too, he’s caught him at it before.

All three of them have nightmares, that’s a given, but they never talk about them. Not really.

Not the new ones. The older ones are easier, most of the time.

“I know, Gally.” Thomas scoots a little closer to him, rests his head on Gally’s shoulder. Minho’s holding his good hand, he realizes. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Do you want to go see it?” Minho asks. “We don’t have to. We can wait.”

“I want to. What did you even do?”

“It’s a tree.” It’s better to get that out of the way, probably.

“Do you need help putting the sling back on?” All three of them know Thomas doesn’t, he’s been doing it for long enough on his own now— and they’ve been leaving him here, alone, with nothing else to think about.

Of course he figured it out.

What else has he been thinking about, with nothing else to do?

“Yeah, please.” Thomas moves so his bad arm is out, so Minho can help him with the sling, but otherwise stays close to Gally.

When he glances down, Thomas has his eyes closed; Gally can’t read his face.

What is he thinking?

How much does he know that he hasn’t told them?

<- 26 28 ->

[jdgo51]

DAILY DEVOTIONAL FOR SEPTEMBER 15, 2023

Putting God First

By Aya Bianca Into (Davao del Norte, Philippines)

READ MATTHEW 6:25-34

"Seek first [God’s] kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well."

MATTHEW 6:33 (NIV)

"Exams, scholarship requirements, extracurricular activities — this summed up my everyday life during my freshman year of college. The first few months went well. But I was part of a music organization that required several hours of practice every week — even on holidays. As time passed, I became exhausted with my routine. I started to worry that I might fail my exams and lose my scholarship.

One evening I felt God speaking to me, telling me to put God first on my to-do list each day and trust that my busy schedule and other concerns would be taken care of. So I committed to spend time praying and reading scripture every morning. As exam day approached, I saw how spending time with God regularly was helping me to put things in order — my studies, my time, and my daily tasks.

When my exam results came in, I was excited to see a near-perfect score. Truly God is faithful to the promise that if we put God first, God will take care of our daily needs. Time spent with God will never be in vain." Oh to have read this back in the day. It makes sense and I possibly had heard similar statements over my life until I got to college and later grad schools. Its funny how we hear things again and again and yet suddenly the message comes through one day. Is that day , too late? Nothing is ever too late.

TODAY'S PRAYER

"Dear God, thank you for taking care of our daily needs. Help us to spend more time with you even on busy days." Amen.

Matthew 6:25-34 25 “Therefore, I say to you, don’t worry about your life, what you’ll eat or what you’ll drink, or about your body, what you’ll wear. Isn’t life more than food and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds in the sky. They don’t sow seed or harvest grain or gather crops into barns. Yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth much more than they are? 27 Who among you by worrying can add a single moment to your life? 28 And why do you worry about clothes? Notice how the lilies in the field grow. They don’t wear themselves out with work, and they don’t spin cloth. 29 But I say to you that even Solomon in all of his splendor wasn’t dressed like one of these. 30 If God dresses grass in the field so beautifully, even though it’s alive today and tomorrow it’s thrown into the furnace, won’t God do much more for you, you people of weak faith? 31 Therefore, don’t worry and say, ‘What are we going to eat?’ or ‘What are we going to drink?’ or ‘What are we going to wear?’ 32 Gentiles long for all these things. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 Instead, desire first and foremost God’s kingdom and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore, stop worrying about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Let's wake up. Seek God and everything else will go marvelously. We still want to worry, but we truly do not need to. (This is a hard lesson to learn, approaching 75 and I still don't believe it all the time.) Blessings, Joe

[beckitty]

I had an IUD put in to manage my endometriosis. I was told, like others, it would be a "little pinch" and to have some paracetamol before going to the appointment to cover "discomfort". I also had a hysteroscopy and biopsy done at the same time.

The hysteroscopy was fine, more uncomfortable than painful. The biopsy hurt, but I figured cutting part of my uterus away probably should, and brushed it of. The IUD insertion was a nightmare though. The doc went in with no anesthetic, and couldn't get my cervix open. Apparently I have scarring on it. So they decide to inject anasthetic into the cervix.

You know when you go to the dentist, and they have to inject anaesthesia into your gum, and it always hurts? Yeah, imagine that on an already hurting cervix.

After a few minute they decide I'm probably numb enough, and start trying again. It takes over half an hour and multiple attempts with an increasing amount of equipment for them to finally get the fucker in. All the time I'm breathing through the pain, reminding myself that it's not that bad, women have these done all the time. Then I get left to clean myself up and get dressed, and get to sit in a waiting room to recover until I'm ready to go.

It hurt, but I coped right? I was warned I might have some pain that could be managed with paracetamol and ibuprofen afterwards. Jokes on me, my pain got worse, and worse, and worse. Keep in mind I was on the 7th month of a period at that point, so if I had any bleeding or discharge from the surgery I couldn't tell.

I was told I could call the ward for help if I had a problem, so I did. They told me repeatedly that pain after this was normal, I was fine. I tried for 3 weeks to cope, until I collapsed, sobbing in pain in the middle of a nursing lecture.

The advantage of collapsing where I did was having access to nurses who specialised in women's health and pain management there, who were on the verge of calling me an ambulance, despite the fact that the medical school is very literally a 5 minute walk away from the women's hospital, and that's if you walk slow and don't take the shortcuts. I called the ward again, while one of my lecturers, a women's health specialist, stayed with me. The ward repeated that "some pain is normal", and my lecturer heard, and saw red. She got the name of the nurse on the ward, and ended the call. She helped me arrange an emergency appointment with my gp, since she doubted I would get the care I needed on that ward, and she later put in a complaint to the hospital and the NMC about the nurse in question.

I get to my gp, who gives me an extremely gentle pelvic exam. It still hurts like a motherfucker, but she tried. She told me she couldn't see my cervix properly as there was too much swelling in the area, and that might explain the fever I was running too. Yep, I had a massive infection, and if I hadn't had the gp take me seriously I would probably have missed it. I was in agony from a raging infection, but my pain was dismissed as normal and not worth worrying about.

The very worst thing about my story is I didn't need to say it. It's not new, it's not unusual, it's a common experience with a few personal details.

Also, this is from a Cochrane review of local anesthesia for uterine interventions from 2013:

We found that no technique provided reliable pain control in the 26 included studies. Some studies reported that women experienced severe pain (mean scores of 7 to 9 out of 10) during uterine intervention, irrespective of the analgesic technique used. ... We suggest that woman are likely to consider the rates and severity of pain during uterine interventions when performed awake to be unacceptable in the absence of neuraxial blockade

I hate how womens pain is dismissed as irrelevant or exaggerated, and how this is tied into sexual and gynacological care. And I'm so fucking glad I've found a doctor who actually listens and believes me, and is willing to give me a hysterectomy so I can opt out of this cycle of pain and bullshittery.

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[paying-the-price-everyday]

26 October 2022, Wednesday.

The last couple of weeks have been spent in endless revision.

Unlike other times, even with the exams looming around the corner I feel pretty calm.

I've been keeping to a rigid schedule these days and I'm so exhausted. I study, eat and sleep, just to rinse and repeat the next day. I've even had dreams about solving taxation problems, and sometimes it feels like I'll never have enough time. But I'm still happy. Happier about my life and my education than I've ever been.

You see, I've been studying for me. Not for a three hour exam. The panic stricken, emotional wreck that I used to be at exam time has all but disappeared.

Given the time constraints and the overall situation I feel like I have done my best. The result may not be what I want, but that's okay because the world is not going to end with this. The effort I put in is not wasted by one bad result. The hours spent in getting my concepts clear and practicing questions are not made worthless in any scenario.

I am not perfect and I am done making myself sick trying to be perfect.

-G

Ps. the sunset was perfect though.