#plus I’m getting my period so I feel sore

[king-mera]

Frustrated rn but there’s nothing I can do

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Surprise

Ghosting pt. 1

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when he’s 25 and you’re 23.

Part 2 here

“kids?”

“What about them?”

“Would you ever want any?”

It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You don’t know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. That’s when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.

“No. Hard pass. I don’t do well with them nor do I want any of my own.” He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didn’t bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.

“Yeah I’m not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.” You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldn’t mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you don’t mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when he’s deployed to his job. There’s also days where you fear he’ll never come back home and you’d be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simons’ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.

As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. It’ll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and it’ll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.

Hopefully, if he doesn’t die on the job…

“It’ll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.”

That’s how you’d thought it be. Until it wasn’t.

You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested you’d go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said you’d be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. That’s when the thoughts hit you. You couldn’t be right? There’s no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.

That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you don’t. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe it’s best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.

You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesn’t want a baby, but you’re pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons baby…

Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?

Simon was out drinking with his ‘comrades’ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when you’d tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD should’ve prevented this from happening.

You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since you’ve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasn’t the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.

Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesn’t want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he can’t be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isn’t around for long periods at a time.

As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, he’s a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didn’t outright admit it.

“How’d it go?” You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. You’re too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simon’s suspicions of your worry confirmed.

“It was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.” He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. “There’s something bothering you, I can see it. You know you can’t hide things from me and I understand you don’t wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.”

Your throat grew dry, ‘Shit.’ You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. “Yn…” He called out but you stood silent.

‘It’s now or never, i can’t hide this forever, not when I start to show.” You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry…” You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. “For what? What happened love?” He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. “You promise you won’t be mad, I’m scared you’re gonna hate me, leave me and…” You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. “I won’t.” He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.

Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. “I’m pregnant…” it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD should’ve been working, but he can’t blame you, there’s still a small chance.

“Have you made an appointment?” He asked after a long silence.

“For what?” You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, it’s too late you’ve already made up your mind.

“To get rid of it.” He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didn’t even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.

You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. “Simon…” You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and he’d run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. “No.” He shook his head as you sobbed. “Dammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!” He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesn’t want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.

“I’m sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didn’t mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldn’t bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I can’t bring myself to get rid of our baby.”

“No we agreed that we’d have no kids, for Christ sake, I’m always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And I’m not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.” He didn’t yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.

Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Your voice quivered. Ghost didn’t even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. “Simon please!” You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.

You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.

It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items he’d need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. “You’re right,” you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. “You don’t have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. I’ll keep the baby without you.” Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldn’t see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. “I won’t make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You won’t hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. I’ll be gone, unless you say something Simon...” you stand there staring at him hoping he’ll say something… anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know it’ll never come. He’s Simon, Ghost, he’s not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesn’t spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.

After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.

You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother she’d always compared one over the other, “Your sister is skinner than you,” “You eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,” “your sister this” or “your sister that”. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.

Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.

“Are you alright?” She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. “I’m sorry!” You cried out. “It’s okay.” She hushes you and cradled your head. “No it’s not, I should’ve talked to you, we should’ve made up long ago but I ran off…”

“And so did I!” She cut you off. “I was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that we’re here, let’s take this chance to make it right.” She wiped your tears from your face. “Now tell me what wrong?” She asks you as you take a deep breath. “Simon left me.” You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. “Well technically I left but we decided that we were through.”

“Why, what happened?” She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.

“I’m pregnant.” You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesn’t speak and allows you to continue. “I found out not too long ago.”

You sister looks at you in shock. “Is that why… Simon…” she tries to ask, you know what she’s saying before you nod answering her question.

“Yeah, we’ve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didn’t want any, me, I wasn’t too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.” You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. “I don’t know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because he’s currently on deployment but he’s made his choice not to be in the baby’s life. I gave him the choice to leave because I don’t want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.” You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.

“He’s in the military?” She asks him a bit surprised, she’s still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.

You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. You’ve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about where’d you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. “Yeah, he doesn’t tell me much about it. But from what I’ve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. He’d come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when he’ll be back, or if he’ll come back at all.” You explain to her. You leave out the part where he’d be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.

Stacy looks at you, she’s processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell that’s it’s a lot for her to take in. You don’t blame her, you two haven’t seen each other er for over five years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. “I promise you I’ll only be here for a few months. I’ll find a place to stay for the baby and I before they’re born, we’ll be out of your hair soon.” You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that it’s only temporary and you’re not going to take advantage of your sister’s kindness and willing to help you out, you don’t wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. You’ve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.

Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. You’re a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you don’t, I’ll always be here to help you.” She says as she smiles at you fondly.

You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. You’re on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. “Thanks Stac.” You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.

Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. “Don’t thank me, you’re my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.”

꧁——————————꧂

Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)

[morganbritton132]

Oh geez this might be a double ask because my phone glitched out when I tried to send previously BUT just wanted to say that I love ur Steve has older siblings au

I also need to say that I shamelessly combined that au with ur post about Tommy knowing Steve the best. Just picturing Steve’s sibs zoning out when his mom lists what he can’t eat because they assume she’s just being difficult. Flash forward a few years and they accidentally poison Steve with like peanut butter cookies and are realllly lucky that Tommy was staying over that weekend and knows he’s allergic.

anyways thx for all ur writing!

I only got this ask once so we’re good! The Steve Has Older Siblings AU has kinda been on hold for a bit because Dustin is either the easiest or the hardest character to write and right now, he’s being difficult for me.

BUT! I love this.

I’m going to change it around a bit because I’m on this kick right now where Steve is allergic to aspirin. Also, with the way that Steve’s mom is written for this AU, she is negligent but protective of her son. I don’t think she’d allow peanut butter in the house if Steve was allergic.

She wouldn’t allow aspirin either but Richard insists that it’s the only thing that cures a migraine (hangover), and Steve’s eight. He doesn’t even like taking his Flintstone vitamins so she’s not concerned about him getting in the medicine cabinet.

It’s not common that Tommy stays over at Steve’s when they’re sick.

Typically his mom watches them at their house but she had to go wake up his grandma (“That doesn’t make any sense. Why can’t she set an alarm clock?”/”I dunno, Steve. That’s what Mommy said. She had to go to Granny’s wake.”) so Mrs. Harrington was babysitting them.

Mrs. Harrington isn’t very good at taking care of them. Tommy wouldn’t tell Steve that because it’ll make him sad, but his mom kinda sucks at this. She doesn’t even give them popsicles for their sore throats or kiss their foreheads to check their temperature. She just disappears for long periods of time to yell into the phone.

Tommy’s kinda happy when she has to go into the office because he thinks Claire might look after them, but she’s apparently studying in her room so Steve’s brothers are doing it.

Tommy secretly likes this better because Jason and Richie are very nice to him, and they tell him that he’s cooler than Steve. No one has ever said that before! Not even Carol and they got married under the jungle gym.

Tommy likes hanging out with them even if he feels icky today.

He is standing in the kitchen next to Steve, watching Richie cut a little orange pill in half with a knife. Richie keeps muttering under his breath about running out of the ‘liquid S H I T.’ Tommy thinks it’s funny that he said a bad word, but can’t laugh about it because he can see the bottle that the pill came out of and –

“I don’t think we take that,” He voices but Richie brushes him off. He says it’s like candy. Tommy has brothers too, so he knows that sometimes you gotta give in or they’ll rub your face into the carpet until you get rugburn, but, “I know but… but what if only I take it?”

“You take half,” Richie tells him. “Stevie over here takes the other half and then we’re right as rain. It reduces fever.”

“Yeah,” Jason adds from behind them. “So your brain doesn’t leak out your ears.”

Tommy looks over at Steve but he isn’t fully awake so there’s not much of a reaction there. Plus, he’s not a very good reader so Tommy’s not sure if he even knows what the bottle says. He tries again, ignoring Jason, “That’s not what Mrs. Harrington gave us earlier.”

“Yeah, I know. This is better.”

“Steve can’t take that,” Tommy tries again after he crunches the medicine between his teeth. He sticks out his tongue so Richie can see that it’s gone, and then adds, “Mommy gave that to him once and it made him really sick.”

“It did?” Steve croaks, snatching his hand back when Richie tries to hand him the pill. Richie tries to force the pill into his mouth but Steve presses his lips together. It makes his brother swear and gesture to Jason, and then Steve is snatched off his feet with a hand pinching his nose shut.

He struggles and Tommy wants to help but he – he also wants Richie and Jason to like him so, he doesn’t help. Steve gasps for breath and the pill goes in…and Steve is fine. He’s angry and out of breath, and his nose is still stuffy so he still kinda sounds like a frog but he’s not.. he’s not blue like last time.

Tommy thinks, oh. He thinks, cool.

Everything is fine for fifteen minutes and then Tommy is yelling out the door of Steve’s bedroom that they need help. Steve is breathing weird and – “and, I – I think he’s going to die!”

A lot of stuff happens at once. Claire leaves her room, Jason and Richie come up the stairs, and they all start yelling and blaming each other. No one really jumps into action until Tommy bursts into tears. Then it’s movement and car rides, and Tommy is sitting in the waiting room at the hospital without shoes on.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting there when Mr. and Mrs. Harrington rush into the room. The only thing he does know is that he’s never seen anybody look as angry as Mrs. Harrington did when she sees them.

She looks like she’s going to yell at them but Mr. Harrington grabs her by the arm and drags her to the reception desk. They disappear behind the white double doors that Steve went through.

It only makes Tommy cry harder.

[girlboypersonthingy]

can I request a list of like green flags and red flags for each of the characters in voltron? btw I love your writing:)

Hello friendo, thank you sm! Thanks for the request, I adore this idea. Also…Sorry y’all, I was posting like every other day for two weeks and then I hopped off for like two months. Oof life is really life-ing rn. I honestly chose to write this prompt before a lot of other requests bc it seems like an easy and short thing to bust out quickly. I swear, I will get to the rest eventually 🩵 keep sending in requests if you’d like! And as always… ENJOY~

KEITH ❤️

Red Flags 🚩

TERRIBLE AT COMMUNICATING. We all know Keith is stubborn and easily overwhelmed with a short temper. He doesn’t really know how to talk to people without getting angry. He feels that bc he has a hard time explaining exactly what he means, people never understand him and that makes him mad.

Bro isn’t scared of anything…and that low key scares everyone else. Like…who isn’t afraid of anything? The whole team has tried sooooo hard to figure out what will get Keith to jump out of his skin and scream like a child but to no avail… Boy just doesn’t flinch, doesn’t care, couldn’t care less about bugs and rodents and clowns and heights or anything like that.

Wears his gloves in the shower sometimes. Like wtf ???

Green Flags ✅

Also bc he is not afraid of anything, boy will protect his friends/family/partner SO HARD. He will verbally AND physically tear someone apart just for looking at you the wrong way. Very protective and caring but in a good way ya know?

Actually very selfless and not self-centered in the slightest. Keith is very giving and helpful, despite his tough exterior, he’s very caring, observant and considerate. He’ll give the shirt off his back to someone in need. He’s always down to help others. Ugh Sweet heart ❤️‍🔥

Has a sick ass space wolf that will also protect you like COSMO IS A MAJOR PLUS OKAY BIG GREEN FLAG DOGGO

LANCE 💙

Red Flags 🚩

Obvi his biggest red flag is how flirty he is. Boy will flirt with anything that breaths and that can get really annoying sometimes and affect the rest of the team.

Jealous AS FUCK. Like the petty jealous type. Lance is the kind of guy to pretend he has a partner back home just bc some alien girl he was flirting with said she had a partner already. He’s like “OH YEAH? Wow cool me too, same same, yeah….” But homie’s ego is a bit sore now…

Lies a lot. Lance just panics sometimes and tells a lie. He knows it’s wrong and he always feels guilty after lying to someone but it always just slips out. His mouth moves faster than his brain most the time.

Green Flags ✅

THE BEST HUGGER/CUDDLER OMFGGGGGG. Lance is the best hugger and cuddle buddy ever, period, end of story, try to change my mind. His long arms always stretch fully around the recipient’s torso and he squeezes tight enough to make you feel warm but not smothered. Usually will rest his chin on the other person’s head if they’re short enough (so Pidge obvi).

Very aware of other’s moods/body language/tone of voice. Everyone thinks Lance is “the dumb one” but he’s actually very in tune with what’s going on in the moment, what’s going on around him. I think he can tell how others feel the second he sees them. Good intuition kinda thing. An empath for sure.

Very considerate and often remembers the little things about people. Does he remember what he learned in class just a couple days ago? Pffft heck no! Does he remember everyone’s birthday, every year and get them a very thoughtful gift? HELL YEAHH I LOVE THIS SWEET BOY OMFG 🩵

SHIRO 🖤

Red Flags 🚩

Honestly…idfk Shiro is so perf. Perfect baby boy all the way

Maybe he could seem too nice at first…? Like when someone is nice but ur like “are you for real? Or are you fake and evil and you’re hiding something?” I think Shiro could be perceived as being fake nice at first.

Omg I feel like Shiro is one of those “ oh no, that looks delicious but I can’t. I’m watching my carbs.” YOU KNOW SHIRO IS A GYM DUDE WHO COUNTS HIS CALORIES PLZ

Green Flags ✅

ALSO AN A+ HUGGER. Imagine those big ass arms holding you so softly and so close to his big, warm body. Omg so comforting, so relaxing. Often gives a gently squeeze just before letting go and pulling away. Ugh 😩❤️‍🔥

Literally the most trustworthy man in the universe. Will defend his friends, loved ones, and planet until the end of time. Shiro would die before revealing any secrets you’ve asked him to keep. The best person to vent to bc he’ll never tell another soul about it. He’s like a personal diary

Shiro is sooooo patient. Definitely the most patient one on the team. He really does take his own advice…ya know, patience yields focus 😌 very sweet, calm man. We love Shiro

PIDGE 💚

Red Flags 🚩

GIRL WILL WORK HERSELF TO DEATH PLZ GO CHECK UP ON HER, BRING HER FOOD AND WATER, GENTLY FORCE HER INTO BED SHE NEEDS SLEEP.

Lowkey kinda moody and can get snappy very easily. Pidge is a sweet heart and very smart and a good team player but she’s also stubborn and will yell to get her point across or make herself heard (she’s an Aries…what’d you expect?)

Sometimes very conceited and braggy about how smart she is. Like yeah Pidge, we know you’re a genius and you could code in your sleep. WE GET IT. UR SMART. GEEZ 😒

Green Flags ✅

Pidge is so baby. Yeah, she can get snappy and braggy sometimes but…SHES SO BABY PLZ FORGIVE HER. She’s just young and stressed okay? Give her a break. She’ll apologize eventually with puppy dog eyes and a soft voice and while she looks adorable, she is being sincere and really wants to resolve this.

Very loyal and determined. I mean look how hard she searched and fought for her dad and brother. She won’t stop for anything or anyone once she has her mind set. Pidge Will never leave you behind and will always turn back to help someone in need.

Androgynous royalty. Pidge is soooo chill about her gender and identity. We love a confident babe 🏳️‍🌈💚

HUNK 💛

Red Flags 🚩

Boy is too scared sometimes. I think Hunk has really bad anxiety and it’s not the anxiety that is the red flag, it’s how he copes with it…which he doesn’t. Hunk let’s his anxiety get the best if him sometimes…but he’s trying.

Honestly…does Hunk really have any other red flags??? Baby boy is so sweet idk 🤷🏻

Over eats to the point of getting sick sometimes…and never learns his lesson. (Me asf)

Green Flags ✅

THE SWEETEST MOST CONSIDERATE AND THOUGHTFUL MAN IN THE UNIVERSE OMFG WHAT A SWEET HEART 😩💛 honestly just a very good guy. We love Hunk.

Obvi his cooking skills!!! Can cook for any occasion, on any cooking surface, in any conditions. Can cook so many different dishes from so many rich cultures around the world! So talented. His food always hits.

THE ABSOLUTE BEST at cheering others up. Soooo funny and silly and kind and relatable. He tries so hard to brighten others’ days when they need it. Will stop what he’s doing just to go cheer up a friend or loved one and watch them smile again.

MATT 🧡

Red Flags 🚩

Interrupts A LOT. In any given conversation, he will interrupt and talk over someone else at least once every minute. Can get really annoying sometimes but in his defense, if he waits too long to speak up, he’ll just totally forget what he was gonna say.

Like Lance, I think Matt would be overly flirty and act like a Fuck boy sometimes. Like bro sit your nerd ass down, that person is SOOO out of your league plz chill.

Can not take anything seriously (unless it comes to his family or his or anyone else’s safety) but day to day, Matt makes so many dumb and inappropriate jokes at the worst times. Ugh 😒

Green Flags ✅

Very brotherly to everyone he considers a friend or family. Protective, constantly checking up on others, making sure they have eaten, asking if they need anything from him. He cares a lot. Bonus points bc he’s a very good brother to his actual sibling too. Aww Pidge and Matt are sibling goals. 🥹

HOT AS FUCK NO MATTER HIS HAIR STYLE/LENGTH. You can fight me on this. Matt is gorg and so is his hair at every single moment throughout the show.

Extremely accepting and open minded. Matt treats everyone he meets equally and never seems phased when he meets others so different from himself. He may ask some questions for the sake of his own curiosity, but would never pass judgment on another person.

[thedevilrisen]

Offensive In Our Own Ways.

jack hughes x fem!reader: Jack meets a girl in a bar whose got so pretty good comebacks.

word count: 0.5k

a/n: This is my first ever piece, I hope I did well! Constructive criticism is very welcome :D.

 CREEK. The sound of my bedroom door opening, followed by the light from the hallway spilling in was what pulled me away from the assignment I was so frantically editing for next week.

“Y/N-”

“no.”

“but-”

“I said no Tahlia.” 

“Just listen.” I sighed in defeat, I wasn’t going to be left alone long enough to finish this assignment if she didn’t get whatever spiel she had in store for me tonight off her chest early. 

“Go on then” I said, shutting my laptop.

“Okay, get ready, we are going to a new bar that opened tonight in 20 minutes.” she finished with a cheshire cat grin.

“Tahlia-”

“no.”

“but-”

“Get ready Y/N.” 

“You’re a pain in my ass, and please do remember that I know where you sleep.” she sheepishly grinned and nodded enthusiastically at me acknowledging my second remark. I groaned as my sore and cramped muscles cracked, popped and stretched back to their natural positions as I dragged my tired body over to my closet. “What to wear, what to wear.” I mumbled under my breath. Flicking through different options. Dress, not feeling it, plus it’s way to fucking cold for this. Skirt and corset top, fuck that. Down to the last dregs of my closet I found a pair of black straight jeans and a magenta elbow length blouse, perfect, that a pair of black combat boots, a few rings, necklace, nose ring and all of my pieces of jewelry for the various piercings in my ears and we are good to go. Pulling my waist length brunette hair out of its disheveled plait, I brushed it till it was presentable. Satisfied, I trudged over to my bedside table and grabbed my phone and anxiety remedy pastels and turned around to walk out of my room and down the stairs to be greeted by my three friends.

“There she is!” Tahlia exclaimed.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go, I now have a dire need for alcohol.” If I'm supposed to deal with you lot of fuckwits for an extended period of time. Drunk Tahlia is enough to deal with by herself, now I’ve got two more on my radar. Great.

As we wandered down the driveway to the Uber all three girls were looking into a makeup-smudged handheld mirror one of them had in their purse and were stating how hot they looked and how they were definitely getting laid tonight. This continued all throughout the Uber ride to the club and right through the front door. 

“I’m going to get a drink. Stay out of trouble, and please for the love of god text me if you are leaving the club with someone else, plus make sure your location remains on so if need be, I can come find you.” There was no room for negotiation in my tone so the three girls nodded and promised to do so. With a tight lipped smile directed to them I took off in search of the bar, Tahlia hot on my heels.

Jack POV

“... Well done tonight boys, ‘m very proud of you and your efforts, couldn’t have done it without you.” Nico commended as he finished his ‘mandatory post game captains speech’. All the boys cheered and most took a swig of their drinks in response, I downed the last contents of my beer and looked down the bar to find the bartender to get another. I waved him down and ordered another beer,

“That's all for you mate?” he asked in a monotone voice. Someone could do with a drink themselves.

“Yep.” I responded in an equally dry tone, if the jackass wasn’t going to make an attempt to be sociable then nor was I. He rolled his eyes and walked off to hopefully get my drink. 

“Jack, come dance with us!” Dawson bellowed in my ear while he tugged half-heartedly on the back of my shirt sleeve.

“Don’t feel like it tonight. Get Nico, I’m sure he’d love to embarrass himself with you.” I recommended in a humorous tone. 

“Fine, your dancing next time then.” he countered

“I’ll look forward to it.” I responded albeit half-heartedly. The joyous bartender wandered back over with my beer in hand and placed it roughly on the bench in front of me with a barely grunt of acknowledgement before his eyes shot up behind me and plastered a sleazy smirk on his face. 

“Hey ladies, can I get anything for you?”

“I’ll have a martini and she’ll have..” silence followed and then some mumbling,”straight vodka.” 

“Alright girls, I’ll have them sorted out for you in a minute, just wait here.” he said through a smirk, “and don’t worry about paying, this one’s on me.”

“ Oh, you don’t have to do that!” One of the girls exclaimed. 

“Anything for a couple good lookin’ girls like yourselves.” he flirted back, a semi-enthusiastic smile on his face.

“Hear that Y/N he also thinks I’m hot!” One girl mumbled to the other, Y/N, pretty name I thought as I brought my beer to lips for a sip.

“Stop calling yourself hot Tahlia, the only thing you can turn on is the microwave.” the girl, Y/N bit back at the other girl. I suddenly regretted taking a sip of my beer as it was involuntarily snorted up my nose in response to this girl's pure bluntness toward her friend. Coughing and spluttering I wheezed out a sorry and looked down at the bar, intent on minding my own business. 

The bartender showed up at the perfect time handing both of the girls their drinks and while winking and handing over a napkin with a pen on top of it. “You’re both clearly interested, so I was wondering if I could grab your numbers?” The twat asked, flashing his best wink, talk about poor customer service.

“I’m sorry I’m going to have to decline.” Y/N replied politely.

“C’mon sweetheart you know that you can’t say no to someone like me.” he crooned.

“Y’know, you’re talking a lot of shit for someone with two perfectly good eyeballs, each would sell for around 16,000 dollars on the black market.” she replied in a matter of fact tone. The bartender's face went from cool, calm and collected, to absolutely petrified and scurrying away in about .5 seconds. 

“Y/N!, why would you say that! He was cute, and you’ve just ruined all my chances!” Tahlia huffed and stormed off. I heard a sigh and saw someone sitting down on the barstool next to me in my peripherals, I looked over and the girl sent me a small smile that I returned.

“Just so you know, if that were my friend I would’ve done the same. Not as.. Offensively,” I cringed at how I sounded. “But something along the same lines, though, I do have to admit, you being as blunt as you were was slightly humorous.” She smiled at that, her cheeks flushed red and the corners of her eyes wrinkled, cutie. 

“Thanks, I’m Y/N by the way and I think I’ve just royally pissed off my roommate.” We both laughed at that statement,

“I’m Jack, and I think you could be correct, she should forgive you though.” I responded hoping that could ease some of her concern.

“Fingers crossed Jack, fingers crossed.” She looked around, surveying the area, “What do you do for work?” She asked, turning back to me.

“I play hockey professionally, for the New Jersey Devils.” Her face lit up.

“Your Jack Hughes?” She asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” I responded, “What do you do for work?”

“Oh, I’m still a student.” She said with a smile.

“Cool what do you-”

“Y/N!”

“Oh God,” She mumbled. “Yes?” Two very drunk girls and her roommate from earlier approached us. Y/N’s eyes flick over both of the girls as she nods to herself, standing out of her seat to help hold up one of the girls, “I think it’s time to go home.” She announced. I couldn’t help feeling sad, I wanted to get to know this girl. 

“Hey Y/N, could I maybe get your number? We could get coffee sometime? Only if you want to though!” I rushed out not wanting to miss my chance.

“Sure Jack, one sec.” She responded, lowering her friend onto the stool she was previously sitting on. Grabbing the napkin and pen the bartender so conveniently left for us, she scribbled down some numbers followed by call me :D and slid it across the bench top to me. 

“Thanks, I’ll text you.” 

“I’ll look forward to it.” She smiled while picking her babbling friend off of the stool and turning around to help them drunkenly waddle out of the bar. I’ll look forward to it too. I smiled to myself, having something to be excited about besides hockey.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part fifteen - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: blood ; near death experiences ; gore ; angst

The wake up period is sore - like a pleasant hangover even though she hasn’t had a drink in a while.

Because, now, there’s something else to be addicted to.

It’s gross, but she doesn’t brush her teeth. Just a little longer to keep the residual taste of him in her mouth so she knows that he’s real.

Michael is sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in business casual, reading something on his phone.

When she plops down across from him, lazy, pleasant smile carved into her face, he eyes her suspiciously.

“You seem relaxed,” Michael says, “that’s scary.”

“I-uh-had a good night.” Her throat is wickedly sore.

Michael taps his finger on his chin. “You’re not telling me what happened so I’m just gonna assume he fucked you on Wall Street.”

“He was actually kind of mad,” she says.

Michael rolls his eyes. “See, that’s stupid. He shouldn’t lead you on if he’s gonna get mad about little stuff like that.”

“Lead me on?” Her face scrunches up like she’s trying to get that thought out of her head.

“Sorry, wrong word.” Michael sighs. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” His look of contemplation turns to a grin, which eases her some.

Now she’s thinking Michael sees something she doesn’t concerning this relationship - thing - despite him not knowing much about it to begin with. She wants to prod, but he’s already changing the subject.

“So, is he any good?” In a childish gesture that makes her laugh, he inserts his pointer finger into a hole created by his other hand.

“How do you know we had sex?”

Michael narrows his eyes. “Oh, have you not looked in the mirror?” His angelic features are positively devilish right now as he takes a sip of steaming coffee and points to her hair. “But, I have to commend him. Although this place does reek of man, at least he smells nice, unlike some of them.”

“He does smell nice,” she agrees, longing to bury her face in woodsy, smoked cologne and crisp soap.

“I’ll have to ask him what he wears if I ever meet him.” Michael bats his pretty eyelashes at her, and she gets the hint.

“I want you to meet him,” she nods, hopeful for it.

This is dangerous. Treacherous. Exciting. Insane. Her throat at the guillotine and her heart held at gun point. She doesn’t want Michael involved in the chaos of the situation, but she wants him to meet John so that someone else can affirm that he’s not her imaginary friend.

“I have to go to work and school, and then I’m going to the bar with the girls later, if you want to come.. With or without delicious-smelling gentleman caller.” Michael slurps the last of his coffee.

“Maybe.” She smiles softly, grateful for the invite and not wanting to hurt his feelings. “I have to go get groceries and I’ll see where my social battery is at after that.”

Michael nods, and she’s reminded of his understanding nature that makes her admire him so much. “If I give you some cash and a few things to pick up, could you?” Michael looks embarrassed, rubs his temples. “I keep meaning to go to the Whole Foods store, but I’m slacking. I’m so tired of fast food for dinner.”

She agrees. “I hear you on that. Of course I will.” It’s the least she can do for him, after all. He’s been putting up with her bullshit with upmost grace.

“Are you taking the subway?” Michael asks.

She nods.

He cringes like the subway is the worst thing he can imagine. “Why don’t we just wait until the weekend? I can drive us. Less dirt.”

She waves him off. “It’s fine, Michael.”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, putting both hands in the air. He promises to shoot her a text at some point with requested items, and then packs up to leave.

She needs to start putting together her own grocery list, so she grabs a pen and paper from her nightstand and begins rooting around the kitchen for missing items, trying to keep it narrow so she doesn’t have to lug too many bags around from train to train.

A thudding on the front door makes her jump.

The miasmic, powdery air that seeps into her apartment raises every goosebump on her skin and sets off primordial alarms in her brain.

John crumples on the doorframe, looking up at her through half-alive eyes, opens his mouth. “I told you you’d see me again.”

His papery voice barely makes it past his lips.

“Jesus Christ.” That’s all she can get out as she pushes herself under his armpit, ignores the sticky blood staining her sleep shirt, and lugs him inside.

Grunting in effort, she shoulders him onto the couch, body crumpling down into his, pulled by a limp, hefty arm.

“John, what the fuck.” She sits up, rubs at his cheeks and becomes that much more worried when she realizes that his skin is frigid.

He hums, unflappable smile taking up the last bit of energy he has, brushes her hair behind her ear with a clumsy, shivering hand. “Told you I’d come back,” he repeats, surprising her by still being able to form coherent sentences.

“I’m calling 911,” she tells him.

“No.” He shakes his head, motions to his chest. “Just lost some blood.”

“Some?” She hisses, eyes taking in his ruby soaked shirt and suit jacket.

He pats her cheek, can’t find the energy to respond.

She rips his jacket off of him, pressing and pulling his bulky frame, then decides fuck it and grabs scissors and tries to cut his dress shirt open. The damn scissors can’t even clip the start of his lapels, and she remembers Winston saying something about Kevlar, so she just rudely tears the rest of his clothes off until he’s completely bare from the waist up. Panting, throwing the sodden linen onto the floor, not even thinking about the stains that will inevitably transfer.

Tattoos that she didn’t notice before on his bare back, scars glistening waxen with sweat that collects inside the bruised muscle and tendon of his body.

Around his left upper bicep, she can see where the blood originates.

A piece of saturated, red cloth and a silvery blue tie wrapped to keep it in place.

“I need to fix this,” she tells him.

He swallows an answer, eyes closed, breath fast and short.

She slips on linoleum on her way to grab the first aid kit. Her knee hits the tile with a crack, and she ignores the pain. Limps back to him, rips his self made dressing off.

The hole just shy of one of the bulging veins in his arms oozes blood.

She tears a package of gauze open with her teeth, stuffs it in the wound.

John’s eyes roll open as he muffles a husky scream from the feeling of something foreign shoving into the fresh, tender opening in his body.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry,” she tells him, fingers sticking more gauze inside, other hand holding it in place with enough pressure to indent his skin. “Did you get shot? You gotta get the bullet out. Fuck.” Her hand slips on plasma, tugging down on his moldable, raw flesh. She recovers but not before he lets out a dying huff of agony.

“Took it out,” he tells her through teeth, trying to stay still while she wraps rolls of white web around his arm.

“You need blood,” she says, eyes boring into his, pleading.

“Fine,” he says, hand trying to fumble with his pants pocket. She pushes him away and grabs his phone.

“Who?”

“Doc.”

She dials the number, presses it to her ear, doesn’t give the person answering time to breathe let alone speak. “Please,” she starts out with, “John Wick is bleeding out in my living room.”

His vision gets dark around the edges, and it’s okay, because this is a good way to die: Bloodletting with her hands on his chest, with her body pressed into his side. He’s not going anywhere without her right next to him. His mind sucks him into a vacuum where it doesn’t have to be this way. A space where she and he are happy. White picket fence. Dogs. Babies? Soft kisses and tickle fights instead of life or death combat. His rapid heart calms and slows. Her hand in his, the only thing he needs. Why he came here. The one person he wants to see before the real grim reaper begrudgingly steals their title back. Death rolls its eyes, clicks its tongue, bored with the Baba Yaga, about time.

Life fades, but he can hear her voice long after his chest stops moving, and he doesn’t deserve such kindness after the things he’s done, but he’ll gladly and selfishly take it.

———————————————

John immediately tries to sit when he wakes, or at least that’s what he imagines himself doing. It’s strange, being flat on your back when you just felt your feet hit the floor a second ago.

He’s hallucinating, then. Shivering, twitching. His eyes attempt to close, but behind them a silver train with white fire headlights rushes toward him at full speed, and they shoot back open right before it can eviscerate his body.

“He’s awake!” Calls a familiar voice that soothes despite the heightened pitch and anxious urgency.

He needs a little more to settle the rapid pound of his heart, so he reaches blindly for a handful of flesh.

She clasps his seeking fingers, puts her other hand on his forearm. Her skin feels like she’s threaded together by silk worms themselves.

His mouth puffs an indulgent sound.

“What’s his temperature?” As the world fizzes into focus like it’s a freezing seltzer being freshly poured into a glass, he makes out silhouettes of the Doc and her.

“96.6,” she says worriedly, pressing the tool to his forehead a second time just to make sure.

It’s strange, that her skin is warmer than his, and this temperature explains it.

“Right,” doc says, rolling a bright red bag of o negative under the heel of his hand to warm it up. “Give him the Benadryl.”

John feels a sharp pinch in his right bicep, watches her take the needle away, cap it, and then reaches for her hand again like a clingy, angry toddler.

She concedes, checks the tubing buried in his antecubital to make sure it’s still dripping while she rubs his wrist in a soothing way and shushes him.

He wants to smile and say something cheeky, but his body refuses to move save for the annoying, jumpy ants crawling under the skin of his hands, feet, and back.

He is bedded down under layers of thick blankets, wrapped tight. Her hip presses into his side.

He holds her fast, now refusing to let go.

“John.”

He imagines himself, a mere servant boy, falling at the feet of a generous and kind princess.

“Hmm?” He asks.

“It’s going to be okay. We’re giving you blood, and he” - she glances over at Doc, weary of what to call him as to not ruffle feathers - “the doctor stitched you up.”

He tries to say something, swears that he at least gets an okay out, but his pale lips stay closed.

“Two bags should be enough,” the doctor tells her, flicking the IV tubing. “I’d say one, but I have a few extras on hand today.”

She can’t tell if he’s joking or not, so she tries a smile and it must look weird on her distraught face. “Thank you.”

“He owes me money in the form of thanks,” Doc huffs, pushing sweaty black hair off his crinkled forehead. “You hear, John?”

John tries to nod, gets a little tilt of his chin out of the grueling effort.

“Getting clumsy and sloppy,” Doc mumbles, shaking his head as he turns his back to spike the other bag of blood.

“Let me do that,” she tells him.

The older man backs away and motions to his prep table, glad for the break. She tries to go over, but John keeps her there.

Let him do it, I’m paying him,  is what he wants to quip. He just grunts.

“John,” she tries to warn, but he’s not scared of her wrath in the slightest bit. He pulls her hand as close as his listless limb will allow, rests their fingers on top of the blanket mound over his chest.

The Doc chuckles, gets back to work. “Is he paying you?”

She’s too busy examining the bruised cuts on John’s face and the raw, purple skin on his knuckles to pick up on the joke. Her mouth pops open, astonished.

“No.”

John reminds himself to tell her how fucking precious she is when his jaw will unstick itself.

“Kidding,” the Doctor says, hanging the next bag of blood onto the portable metal pole.

“Oh, sorry.” She warms with the awkward tension. “Also, I’m sorry for the other day.” She nudges over her shoulder as if to snuff the past. “That was really stupid of me.”

The doctor rubs his beard. “I thought it was funny,” he shrugs.

John can barely move, but the glare he shoots is unmistakeable.

“And it’s fine,” Doc amends. “Rotten kids needed to get whipped. Heaven knows his father never took a belt to his behind.”

He walks back to his folding table and starts sticking the items left out from earlier into his bag. For an older man, his hands were deft and skilled as he sowed John, sterilized his equipment, and tucked it back into his tool case in one breath.

Once again, another person for her to envy.

Maybe she’s barking up the wrong tree by asking John to teach her to fight. Wouldn’t it be smarter to utilize her already established skills and have the doctor take her under his wing instead? Wouldn’t that be presumptuous and entitled, though? Hey, I’m John Wick’s fuckbuddy, I have no idea what’s going on, but I’d like to be your coworker because you seem important.

She watches his back and thinks hard, brows furrowing in thought.

A surprising, temperature neutral finger touches the side of her face.

John is trying to smile up at her. “Hey, honey.”

Thoughts of combat medicine left behind, she squeezes his shoulders in a timid hug and brushes the sticky hair off his forehead. “I thought you were dead.”

“I think I was,” John grimaces.

“No, you were breathing,” she tells him, squeezing his hand, contradicting her anxiety. “I swear.”

“I believe you.” His strength is seeping back inside his bloodstream through sterilized tubes, and, by the second, he can feel the haze of purgatory lift from him.

He opens and closes the fist not gripping her, testing his will.

“How you feeling?” She asks.

“Starting to get hot,” he admits, shifting his thawing toes under crushing blankets.

She takes three off, which still leaves him weighted down. He wants to laugh, imagining her tucking him in thoroughly with pounds of linen that could never compare to the shelter that she gives.

He kisses her fingertips, winces as they graze the superficial cut on his top lip.

“Let me fix that,” she asks, trying to pull away.

“Why‘re you always trying to get away from me,” he mumbles, letting her go.

She wants to ask him the same question, but grabs a wet wash cloth and a basin filled with warm water and starts cleaning his face off.

The doctor is sitting in one of her kitchen chairs that she dragged into her room for him, watching, checking his wrist for the time.

The caked blood fights against warm water. She avoids pressure and instead uses persistence to rub the grime off his face and neck. The water turns tepid and pink while the battle goes on.

The doctor comes over, unclamps John’s vein from one bag, and sticks the other into the port.

John’s teeth chatter while the cool blood pumps through his system.

She rubs his jaw to calm the motion, while her damper hand grabs one of the discarded blankets and puts it back on him.

He’s just now noticing that he’s lying in her bed, calves hanging off the end of the mattress. “How much blood is there?” He asks, afraid to know the answer.

“Inside your body, about 3 liters. Maybe a little less right now.” She eyes the last blood bag. “Outside, probably.. let’s say. A shit ton.” She grins at him.

“I’ll help you clean it,” he offers, apologetic, wide brown eyes enough to get him out of dry cleaning duty.

“Worry about being able to sit up first, tiger,” she says, running the rag over his forehead.

“We should talk, too,” he replies.

“Once again, your functionality is my main priority.”

It feels far too good - being her priority. He lets the idea carry him through otherwise frustrating silence.

“I have some Pink Peroxide,” Doc interrupts. “Will cost extra.”

John nods, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Pink peroxide?” She asks, also looking over her shoulder at him.

“Miracle for stains,” he explains. “Blood stains especially.”

She dabs John’s cheek. “Oh.”

Another temp check and he’s at 98.8, sweat dampening the layers of blanket. He squirms impatiently, attempts to push some covers off himself.

They don’t notice until he’s got half in a pile around his stomach.

Doc laughs as she scolds John.

“Stop it,” she says, rearranging bedding so that there’s only two blankets covering him. She tucks edges in. “You’re gonna get cold again.”

“Keep me warm,” he tells her, running his thumb over her cheek bone, trying to manually stimulate her lips into a smile.

She can’t help the crescent tilt of her mouth. “I think you gave him too much morphine.”

“Yeah,” Doc agrees, “he owes me extra for that, too.”

It might be the morphine, or it might be the fact that he was closer than he’d like to be to a dark, conscious-less void where he didn’t have her and it made him crave her that much more.

“I’m gonna go get you some water,” she tells John, patting his bicep. “Some toast and butter, too.”

She looks at him, expectantly.

After a minute, he seems confused. “Okay, that’s alright.”

“Uh, you have to let me go,” she says, biting her lip.

“Oh fuck,” he says casually, releasing her hand.

She goes to prepare him some things. The toast and butter, a few fresh strawberries leftover from Michael’s pie baking excursion, a tall glass of ice water. Some orange koolaid for immune boost and blood sugar raising. She grabs the jar of peanut butter and a knife, too, balances it on the plate with the food.

“What time is it, Doc?” John asks, yawning.

“Six PM,” the Doctor replies, glancing at his watch.

“I go in at ten.”

Doc examines the second blood bag. “It will be done by then.”

“I thought they missed my artery.”

She walks in, sets his plate and drinks down. “Here,” she says, prompting a glass straw to his lips. He sucks down water and gets Deja Vu from the first time he met her, remembers how sweet she was to think of his base human needs, forgets about Viggo.

“You thought right, but you bled an unusual amount.” This from Doc.

John asks, “Why?”

“Your blood is thin.” Doc shrugs, matter-of-a-fact. “I would need more tests to figure out why ”

She sits down on the mattress next to him. “You were on an oral anticoagulant - blood thinner - in the infirmary because of strict bed rest. Is that why?” She looks at Doc.

He smiles at her. “Ah, that could be it.”

John grins. Her pride is his. Smart, resourceful little companion. He wants to ruffle her hair.

But then, her head tucks down because she doesn’t know if she’s supposed to be telling everyone that John’s an escaped convict. And then, she starts to feel like even when she’s doing something useful, she’s just fucking everything up more, as demonstrated by the past two days.

John watches curiously as her face contorts, wonders what’s going on in her head and wishes she would tell him so he doesn’t have to guess. Because his guess is something bad.

That should be worrying. The last time he cared enough to be in tune with someone’s feelings, he was trying to gauge how easy it would be to avoid them after putting a bullet in their boss’s head. In fact, the only time he’s trying to read someone, it’s for business rather than personal reasons.

He scares the thought into a locked cabinet of his brain, reminds his feelings that rational John needs to buy this woman a passport and get her into a witness protection program where he can’t find her - easily find her. Because, eventually, he will, but it might take some time - and time can birth so many unexpected things.

Blood finishes dripping as John sits up to scarf his toast. It’s whole wheat, soggy with butter, delicious. There’s no time for peanut butter.

She places a steady hand on his back for support, rubs gentle fingers into the knobs of his spine.

The blankets fall around his waist, alerting him to his completely bare body.

“Have you eaten today?” He asks her, munching on a strawberry.

“Did I get shot?” She fires back.

He raises an eyebrow.

“I will, I will,” she grumbles, “just let me make sure the injured party is good, first. This is simple video game survival stuff, John.”

“What kind of video games do you play?”

She rolls her eyes and hands him the frosty glass of koolaid. “Sharp-shooter. Just kidding, I don’t. But I haven’t lived in a box.”

The ability to make him chuckle with that dry, sarcastic wit comes with the downfall of jostling his stitches and shooting pain through his arm, into his neck, down his spine. He chokes on a giggle.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, wanting to punch herself for humor at a time like this. She stabilizes him.

After the bag finishes, Doc takes it down and shoves it into his briefcase. He slips off his vinyl gloves, tucks them into a striped pocket, and places a  translucent bottle full of blue pills by her feet. “Make him take these.”

He puts a pressured dressing on the open area left by the IV, then points to the pill bottle on the floor. “Three times a day.”

She nods, diligent, so serious. John hides his amused grin around a gulp of water.

“Where are my pants?” John inquires. His eyes catch the shine of his belt just as he finishes the question. He starts to lean, but she stops him.

“That’s the million dollar question,” she jokes, then curses herself for trying to be funny again. “Hold on, I got it.”

She reaches over and drags his heavy trousers off the floor, hands them over.

He pulls three gold coins out of his pocket and hands them to the doctor.

“Saving them for the ferryman?” Doc asks, shoving them into his white coat pocket.

She bristles, the reference not lost on her.

John chews a strawberry, aloof eyebrow raised in response.

“Right,” Doc says, “I’m leaving. Be more careful. I think you’re distracted.” He eyes her for a moment, gaze almost judging - if she’s interpreting the stare right - and then takes his leave.

John rubs her cheek with his knuckles. “Don’t let him get in your head.”

She wretches her eyes from the spot where the doctor once was and looks up at John. “Are you distracted?”

He sighs. “Lately? Yeah.”

“Why?” She asks, folding her arms over her chest, looking up at him, pouting, seeming so strange and out of element while covered in his dried blood, and he decides that he’s the biggest asshole on planet earth for going about this in the wrong way despite having numerous chances to make it right.

“You.” Really? That’s what he can come up with? Years of etiquette training and he’s just a kid on the playground asking his crush to check the yes or no box. “I more than like you. I’m serious about it.” Melting into a puddle of biohazard would be better than sitting here burning with shame from the sheer stupidity of his words.

Despite his self-hatred, her eyes seem to glitter like she’s being dazzled and courted with lover’s poetry. “You do?” She whispers.

“I do.” He cups her face. “Which is why you need to get the hell away from me and never look back.”

“No,” she says.

“I thought so.” John licks his teeth.

“Are you disappointed?” She asks, still doubting his feelings despite this being the second time he’s admitted them.

“No.”

“So, what now?”

“I scare you away.”

“Try.” She raises her chin, defiant Pomeranian back in action.

Every time she opens her mouth, it’s a new emotion wrought upon his aching soul. He loves it - not even secretly.

He smiles to demonstrate his fondness for the attitude. “I don’t know how to do this.”

She starts to ask him what he means, but it would be useless because she already shares the sentiment. “God, me too.”

“Ask me something,” he starts.

“Why did you come here to die?”

“I didn’t.” He rethinks. “I did. I wasn’t thinking, I got sloppy, I didn’t know I had lost that much blood. I was dazed, and you’re the person I wanted. It was idiotic. I’m sorry.” He takes a breath, trying to organize his thoughts into words. “If I’m gonna die, I want to be beside you when it happens.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it, warmth filling her up. “Okay, well.” Her voice is quiet. She’s thinking about whether or not to believe him with part of her brain and beating herself with the other part for not trusting an honest man who’s shown her compassion and protection. She chews her lip. “That’s the main part. And now I don’t feel so bad about also being an idiot.” She swivels back. “Not that I think you’re an idiot. I don’t. You’re not an idiot. Actually, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Just that I don’t feel so alone.”

He tilts his head. He’s absolutely an idiot. Letting himself get shot on the first night back, for one, then, for two, letting his unoxygenated brain lead him, desperate, to her doorstep, despite the consequences. The biggest idiot alive. What she did was noble and misplaced, what he did was intentional and inconsiderate. Comparing their faults is what’s idiotic.

“Can’t you just talk?” She asks. “Your long silences and dark stares are killing me, here.”

“I’m bad at it,” he admits.

She gives him a full-fledged smile, finally. Irony is laced into her lips. “Haven’t you ever played show and tell?”

“I excelled at show,” he says, inching toward her face.

She inches back, although she is timid. “I can tell.”

He scoots over so that they are nose to nose, startling her with the sudden move. She can’t get the nervous laugh out before he steals it with his mouth.

She wonders how many coppery kisses are in her future, and hopes it’s a lot.

[icekingofhope]

so I decided since I am a fnaf veteran and also planning a fnaf rewrite I give my opinions on the games and such and explain why I like or hate the game.

fnaf 1 2 and 3: the reason why I love these three is because it feels like a perfect trilogy the mystery the intense setting just a chef kiss and yes I agree fnaf 3 isn’t the brightest but I don’t care cause it’s actually my top favorite fnaf game I love the character spring trap a lot he has always been my favorite and the story’s ending fits of how the ghost of the dead children decided to punish their murder by making him go threw what they go threw.

fnaf 4: now I don’t hate this game far from it actually it’s probably the scariest fnaf game I seen and plus the designs of the nightmares are cool! It just I wish it was executed abit better as it does have flaws to the story (like example what did fucking michael expect when he put his brother in the mouth of a animatronic what did he think was gonna happen)

FNAF WORLD: now it maybe not a horror game…but I do enjoy the chibi animatronics and they look adorable I would never play it but I’ll look at the gameplay or art time to time.

Sister location: this game was kinda meh to me and feels wasted potential and it being a prequel just kinda ruins the lore especially since the first game takes place in 1970s…and advance animatronics like that doesn’t make sense and plus I feel like it would have fit a lot better if it was like taken place after the three games and maybe if you wanna make it a prequel make the animatronics less advance and give it the aesthetic of that time period (and don’t make the ballerina animatronic sexualized when she is a animatronic for children (cause you can’t tell me she isn’t sue me-)

pizza simulator: I fucking hate this game cause to me it ruined five nights at Freddy the only good thing was the cool speech Henry gave I already stop being into five nights at Freddy from this cause it ruined it for me the mystery was gone it just felt like they were just milking the franchise now and I don’t get how people like it.

THE FNAF VR AR AND ULTIMATE CUSTOM NIGHT: this is similar to pizza simulator and it sucks cause like this could have been fixed if they were just not canon like fnaf world and just got entertainment.

SECURITY BREACH: this one made me the most disappointed cause I remember when I saw the trailer I was actually very excited and positive about the game and made my theories on the game of what’s gonna happen…but it just turned out as a shitty glitchy game and I will announce as the WORST five nights at Freddy’s games ever made.

it frustrated me how bad it was to like showing the trailers aren’t true to the game amazing voice actors replaced with bad ones (aka vanny) and the only think I like about this game is the animatronics (not their designs their ok but it feels weird to even like them cause they are made by a problematic artist but the idea names etc)

Gregory also feels like a annoying main character like I just want him to just shut up like to me he doesn’t sound like a kid he just sounds like a bad voice actor trying to imitate a child but with a sore throat.

and don’t get me started on Vanessa which could have been a separate character to vanny cause like I hated she turned out to be vanny (and I always found it strange she was the only human security guard I mean…for a big ass fucking place as security breach which is probably the biggest map of any fnaf game your telling me there isn’t more human security guards? Like I’m aware of the security bots but they barely do shit in the game)

it upsetted me when I first saw the game I was so excited for it like how I would have fix it maybe make it like similar to the incident the death of the 5 children make it start as a tutorial where your parents take you to Freddy fazbears with your friends you get a tutorial of how to run climb and such.

and like you meet vanny she tried to kill you and maybe try to make the animatronics interesting since they are taking ai animatronics who actually have feelings and emotions route make them like Trying to fight back their aggressive programming do something to make it interesting! you had the ball In your hands yet you just decided to throw it into a fucking cliff this includes ruin and into the pit which is bad too.

And it sucks cause like I don’t know what is gonna happen now like it feels like five nights at Freddy is the broken shell it once was…

now does this mean you should also hate it no you don’t have to hate any these games if you like them feel free to for me it just feels like fnaf was ruined to me with its books and bad sequels cause like sometimes it feels like Scott didn’t seem to know what he wanted for the game and it feels like he was making it up as he went a lot going with the most craziest and dumbest ideas.

but you can still love fnaf I still like it too but like I am not as much into it anymore (due to the fans being crazy with its ships etc ) although even if I do plan a fnaf rewrite it’s not to spite Scott or any fnaf fans i just wanna do it to reconnect to fnaf when it was at its prime and feel abit of nostalgia.

and despite my hate for how fnaf went but I am glad they still exist cause we got amazing fan made songs and people got into the franchise and not to mention they can be inspiring and also help popularize mascot horror which is one of my favorite type of horror!

now I wish I could explain how I hate it more (but I suck at fucking explaining) although I do highly suggest video which honestly explains the fall way better then I could ever can

Anyways that’s all please don’t attack me for my opinions and I hope you have a good day or night.

[faegoddessog]

  Fantasy Come True  Ch 8/8

Chapter 8  : Home... to our house

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, cramps, period sex (no blood), massage, fingering, slow fucking, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll) cock warming, public sex, 'can't be bothered to take your clothes off' fucking, hard and fast from behind, verbal abuse, breakup angst, Austin is just too fucking sweet to handle.

Series Summary: Breaking into the acting world has been a life long dream. It's been tough, plus your relationship with you partner has some struggles, but who doesn't have struggles. A new guy shows up to your improv classes who seems strangely familiar. He seems rather interested in you and you feel unusually comfortable around him, like he projects calm and reassurance. Once you realize who he really is, and what he really likes... it's game on. 

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

A/N: This little gem is per request for the lovely and talented @purejasmine . It's been a collaborative project designed to meet her every Austin need as best I can. Here's to you darling! <clink> I hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed the creative process with parameters not wholly my own!!

Here is the Masterlist of this series.

Chapter 8:  Home… to our house.

When you both actually wake up,  you can’t believe it’s only Saturday. Austin makes you coffee and tea, then sets out a plate of non-breakfast for you both to nibble on and you get to work. You end up taping one your two scenes with Austin off screen, reading the opposing lines. Upon review, it is so good, better than what you originally had in mind.  

You help Austin with his project for a couple hours. He is already off script, just wanting to hone bits and pieces. You are amazed at how phenomenal he is. He shies away from the kissing scene. Telling you that if he starts kissing you… he’s not gonna stop.

“Plus, I can tell you are sore love,” he says, kissing you lightly on the forehead. 

 You insist that you aren’t exactly sore, just delicious twinges that remind you insistently of last nights’ activities. 

You finish eating the early dinner you ordered in, when the cramp hits, and all is made quite clear. Your eyes close and you blow out short breaths. 

“Are you Ok, Angel?” concern written on his face.

“Well that answers why I was so fucking horny last night.” you say almost to yourself.

“What? That wasn’t a product of me admitting I’m head over heels in love with you plus my extra sexy skills?” he says, only partly teasing. 

“Yes, for sure, and,” you frown, “I’m about to get my period. Fuck! “ you bend over in pain as another one hits.

“Princess,“ he rushes to you, rubbing your low back with a sure hand. “Will you let me take care of you? I have a tried and true method of making cramps go away. And I promise that blood doesn't bother me, that’s what showers are for, sweetheart.” 

Wow, this man is truly amazing. 

“I’m not bleeding yet, just cramping,” you say shaking your head, “but how are you real, my Austin, and not a dreamed up god of a man or an angel or something?” 

He just huffs out breath and shakes his head, closing his eyes. 

“C’mon, let's get you upstairs and into a hot bath.”

……..

Austin’s chest is so solid behind you, the lavender and chamomile oil scents drifting up from the tub are almost effortlessly relaxing. 

“It’s what I use when I just need to relax,” he had said as the drops hit the surface of the hot water with tiny plops. You had watched the oils spread in slick concentric rings in front of you in  the soft glow of the candles he lit before climbing in behind you.  

Now the fingers of his left hand play at being laced in between the fingers of yours, his thumb delicately stroking your own. His right hand gently pulls your head down against his shoulder, petting a stray hair away from your face and back into the hasty bun on the back of your head. You sigh, relaxing. 

Another cramp hits, you suck air in through your teeth, your body tensing.

“Oh hunny,” his right hand drifts to your abdomen, his palm going in gentle clockwise circles. His left rubbing against your hip and along your thigh. How does he know it’s so sore there? 

The cramp dissipates quickly as his hands touch you.  It’s fucking sorcery. 

You sit in companionable silence, Austin effectively petting the cramps away as they come. 

“Are you ready now?” he asks softly after about twenty minutes in the bath.

“There’s more?” you ask incredulously. 

“Of course, my Princess, I hate that you hurt, I want to do everything I can to help you.” 

“Austin, just you touching me has helped tremendously. Thank you.” “Well that is my plan,” his hands go to the sides of the oversized tub. Water drips off his gorgeous physique as he gets out. 

“‘I’ll be right back,” he says, wrapping a towel around himself.

He is gone for about ten minutes, doing… who knows what. You lay back in the tub that is strangely empty without him. You will never be able to take a bath without Austin again, this is simply the superior way to bathe, cramps or no.

He comes back quickly with a huge warm fluffy towel that he must have pulled straight from the dryer. He wraps you in it, rubbing you head to toe. He leads you to the bed, where he has laid  out pillows and more towels ‘just in case”, he winks at you. You melt. Why does his wink turn  your bones to jello?

He positions you face down, with a pillow under your hips. You pussy is a little exposed, but the gentle pressure on your belly actually feels good. Another warm towel drapes over you. 

He gets massage oil out and kneels on the bed straddling your legs. Folding the towel out of the way, he starts with long slow strokes, spreading the oil over your hamstrings, buttocks and low back. His thumbs pull slightly at your crack, opening you up just a bit as he glides over your ass. His strong hands knead each of your legs up and down several times. His fingers and thumbs dig into your glutes and you can’t help but moan in pleasure. 

Normally, when you get massages, you try to keep your vocalizations to a minimum, but here you don’t feel shy about it at all, you want to let him know just how good it feels. He presses his knuckles into your low back, gliding along either side of your spine.

You groan.

 When he leans over you, his semi hard cock brushes against your butt cheeks. 

Sweet Mama Jones, that is a new sensation during a massage. What you hope is just your natural lube floods your insides, he feels so good. 

His hands slide from your back, over your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, his thumbs grazing your lips. He adds more oil to his hands, sliding them gently up and down your pussy lips. Then he starts all over again, backs of your thighs, glutes, low back, down to your crotch again. When he does it for a 3rd time, you open your legs for him in anticipation of his fingers on your pussy. 

“Now, my darling Angel,  I don’t want to make you hurt more, so if it does, just tell me to stop.” He is rubbing back and forth gently, fingertips barely circling your clit on the down stroke. 

“This isn’t about safe words or pushing you past some limit.” He slides a slow finger just barely inside you, every move is slow and gentle. It’s perfectly what you need right now, relaxation seeps into you. Your moans come out as low ‘mmmm’s and breathy ‘oh yeah’s. It just feels good. Who would’ve thought.  

“Don’t even worry about an orgasm, Princess,  just relax and let me make you feel good, my love.” He goes back to your glutes and your low back for a minute or two. 

Weirdly, his words are like the key clicking in the lock. His insistence of orgasm being irrelevant turns you on so much. As he nears your vulva again, your hips open up to him and you find your back arching in an attempt to convey what you want. Of course he notices and of course he gives it to you, gliding his oiled fingers against you. Afterall, this isn’t about teasing and taunting you, only about making you relax and feel good.

You turn your head, lifting your shoulders just a little. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, naked and kneeling over you. Even the fraction of him you can see is a turn on. 

“Austin baby, are you hard?” you ask in a quiet tone.

“Yes,” he simply says.

“Good. I need you in me, my Austin,”  you reach back and brush your fingertips against his knee. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” he sounds hesitant. 

“Yes I am, oh god yes,  please. Just go slow and be gentle,” you tone isn’t begging, more definitive. 

“Yes Ma’am.” The mattress bends under your legs as he walks his knees forward. He leans over you, his body making contact with yours, but holding himself up, not wanting to crush you. He moves his hips in a circle, his cock brushing against your buttocks. His hips lift and his shaft falls down between your legs and against your wetness.  Behind you, you hear a closed mouth moan. You reach both hands back and spread your cheeks apart for him. His tip is just at your entrance. 

“Ok my Princess, I’ll go slow, but if it hurts you gotta tell me. Remember, if you don’t cum it’s just fine, as long as you feel good.” He says in a deep voice just behind your ear. 

You nod. 

Then he pushes so slowly, not even all the way in and sits up a bit on his knees. The angle is perfect as it doesn’t put too much pressure on your uterus. Then the fucking magic begins. His thumbs rest on the joint between your back and hip and he starts massaging in ever widening circles. It is unreal how good it feels. He moves his cock slowly, deliberately in and out, but not deep. Thumbs digging in. He is a wizard and you are the subject of his marvelous spell.  You feel an insidious warmth spread through your pelvis, and after a little while, you snake your hand between you and the pillows. Rubbing gentle circles around your clit. 

You feel yourself pushed closer and closer until your orgasm spills up and out of you just as slow. An overflowing pitcher of endorphins spreading through your system like spilled milk. Your whole body shudders in joy.

“Better love?” he rubs up and down your back in long strokes. 

He pulls out as you roll over. You open your arms, wanting him close. 

“Oh god yes,” your whole body feels relaxed and happy as he settles down next to you. Cradling your head against his chest. 

“What about you?” you reach for his still hard cock, covered in your slick.  

“Oh this isn’t about me right now hun, I’m happy to make you feel better.” he intercepts your hand. 

“But that was amazing Austin, I’ve never had anyone do anything like that for me before. I want to repay you.” You lace your fingers through his hand.

“Another time my darling Princess, just rest now.” He kisses your forehead.  

You had never slept so soundly. 

Your flow starts the next morning as Austin feeds you breakfast.  It turns out to be the easiest period you’ve ever had.  

You decide not to work on the comedic scene, opting to wait until next time. When you tell Austin this, he smiles almost shyly at you. 

“I love it when you say next time,” his voice and eyes soft. “Oh yeah, that reminds me! Would you be interested in going to a party next Friday? I usually don’t go to them, but this is one of those big shindigs that I should probably be at, especially with my new project on the horizon.  If you aren’t ready, I totally understand.”

“I would freakin’ love to,” the idea of going out in the public eye on purpose with Austin is thrilling if a bit daunting, plus maybe you can do the whole rub elbows/ shake hands make deals  business deal thing. 

 “I have no idea what I’ll wear though, my closet is pretty mundane,” you say. 

“I believe I told you that I would take you shopping, plus I owe you panties. Are you feeling up to it today?” he asks.

Surprisingly, after all the … well… all the Austin, you are feeling really good, and your flow isn’t nearly as bad as it usually is. So you agree. 

He takes you to one of those fancy boutiques where they give you a private room and serve you drinks and bring you all the clothes to try on. It’s a little overwhelming at first, Austin orders you some sparkling water, knowing alcohol isn’t your jam.

Oh, and thank the lord for the body positive movement, everyone you meet is just so nice and supportive.  Austin is sitting on a little couch with a drink in his hand, smiling at how you are getting pampered. 

They whisk you away to a dressing room, trying to get the tea on you and Austin. You shrug and smile in an ‘I know but I’m not telling’ sort of way. Luckily they are cool and help you try on several things. A couple you feel comfortable enough to go out and show Austin. He nods, says you look nice. 

Then you step out of the dressing room in a white satin blouse with pearl buttons down the front. The deep V neck shows off the girls. It’s not quite scandalous, but enough that you feel sexy. The back yoke is non-existent and has, instead, black satin ribbons sewn at the neckline and the the top of the bra line creating stripes of ribbon, skin, ribbon skin. It’s tucked into a high waisted black tulip cut skirt that hits you at the knee. Just under the subtle offset downwards V in the waistline, the fabric is gathered and twisted at the front of the hip.  Which flows down into the positively libertine slit that peels back over your thigh. You were shocked at the overall effect of it in the  mirror of the dressing room, you would never have even dared to try this on, but the person helping you knew exactly what they were doing. As you step out, you know it's not just you when you see Austin’s breath catch. The subtle widening of his eyes, raising of his eye brow and nodding of his head as he tries to hide biting his lip.

“You look amazing, but how does it feel?” he asks. 

Fuck, how is he so perfect? 

You move around, sit down next to him, put your hand on the knee of his crossed legs,

“It’s actually good,” you say kind of surprisingly. The waist is not too tight when you sit, even the strappy heeled sandals are comfortable. 

The salesperson motions for you to stand. Austin watches your ass as you walk to the three way mirror. 

“This really fits you beautifully. And if we tailor the shirt right here,” they tuck the side seam together, “it’d really create that perfect curvy side silhouette with no rumples in the fabric.” 

“As long as it’s still comfortable, I’d love it,” you comment.

“Girl, I got you, contrary to popular belief, we can look amazing and be comfy at the same time,” they say with a wagging finger.

“We’ll take them,” says Austin quickly with a glimmer in his eye, “when will it be ready.” 

…

Austin drops you off at your apartment later that night. He is doing his best to hide his reluctance, hanging on to the hope that he can convince you to stay with him sooner rather than later. He is planning on picking you up on Friday morning to get your outfit for the party that night. 

It was really hard to walk into your apartment. Austin's words before you walked away from the car keep bounding around inside your head. “I may just keep you… so be ready Princess.” 

Your partner was right where you left him on the bed, playing video games. You wondered if he even moved, he gets so testy when he doesn’t see the sun. 

“Any luck?” he asked. 

“Yeah, we got one of the scenes taped, the other we’ll do later.”

“Only one? In three days? That's ridiculous . Why does everything always take you so long?” Clearly he hasn’t been outside or moved enough, that demon side of him is rearing its ugly head. 

“Yeah well that’s what it’s like-” You almost call him babe, but just… can’t. “Plus I had cramps.” 

“Oh no, well that sucks, so no banging for me huh?” he says, knowing you hate that term. 

Your “Nope,” has never been so multifaceted before. You shake your head, turn your back and walk to the kitchen. You realize you simply just can’t live like this anymore, you have seen the light and you won’t live in darkness. Something has to change and after more than a decade, it won’t be him. 

You spend the next few days mentally cataloging what you would pack and take with you.  It’s actually a nice escape, in between texts from Austin, which you actually changed to his right name. You find that, aside from your clothes and a few momentos from childhood and things that remind you of your mother, you don’t really want most of this stuff. You don’t want the old baggage anymore. You even pack up a few  things and take them to the thrift store. 

On Wednesday, you tell your partner that you will be gone starting on Friday probably all weekend.

“Again!? What are you cheating on me?” he asks, eyes narrowed. “It’s not cheating if it’s with Austin Butler,” you say with a genuine smile.

“Oh yes, of course… your perfect Auuuustin,” he teases cruelly, he's always pissy when you are on your period.  You don’t really care though, not anymore.   Because Austin is perfect, and he is yours.

You just shrug him off. 

“Whatever, weirdo. At least be sure to bring back some leftovers this time.” he says walking into the bedroom, unable to rile you.

‘Fat fucking chance,’ you think. 

You flash to Austin asking you to live with him. It’s feeling more and more tempting to just leave right now. 

‘And what about your security, your future safety?’ fucking practicality, ruining your adventurous  moment. 

…..

Austin hands the keys to the valet, then walks around to open your door. You step out to a myriad of flashes. If not for Austin’s smile at you and his fingers threaded through your own, you’d be terrified. You walk what feels a little like a gauntlet.  Austin has his game face on and yours is neutral like you guys talked about on the way over. 

“Don’t give them anything,” he had said. 

Paparazzi at the gate are yelling his name, asking who you are. You know, intellectually, that this is very mild, but it’s still a little intimidating. But you figure, if shy Austin can handle it, so can you. 

The party is in full swing, people with drinks everywhere in the big old Hollywood house. Austin clings to your hand like a lifeline at first. You aren't sure if it’s for you or for him. He relaxes as he greets people, and introduces you as his date. He is SO charming and somehow remembers everyone’s name and what they might be working on. It’s like he did homework for this party. 

You turn on all your own charm. You are chatting in an easy friendly way. It’s easy with Austin by your side, which he is, all night long. People are actually nice and welcoming. 

“I see why he likes you,” says a lady in your ear.

An official photographer is wandering around, taking pictures. You both pose for him, he asks your name. You give him your stage name. 

After an hour or so of rubbing elbows with people,  you both make your way out to the pool area. There is a big name DJ, people are dancing and drinking and some are high on… whatever. It’s loud and the energy is crazy. 

“I like this music, but it’s a little too much right now,” Austin yells in your ear. 

You notice an empty balcony off the end of the house and nod your head up that way. Austin follows your gaze and returns to your eyes with a little grin that says, “I like the way you think”. 

You covertly find your way up to the room that opens up onto this private balcony. 

You don’t notice, but Austin locks the door behind him. Inside, the music is muted, and the comparable quiet is a balm to both your ears. The room is set up to be an office. A big desk and book shelf and a couple comfy chairs fill the room. 

“You are amazing, Princess,” Austin gathers you in his arms, “It’s like you are made for this sort of thing.” 

“Thank you, darling,” you say, draping your arms around his neck, “But you, you make it look easy.” 

“I’m exhausted, too many people. I just need a little break to recharge.” His lips press to yours. The kiss starts out light, but gets deeper. A tell-tale firmness rises against your hips.

“You want to know why I like this skirt?” he looks down at you through half lidded eyes,”and why I wouldn’t let you wear any of the ten new pairs of panties I bought you?”

Your top teeth bite lightly at your bottom lip as you nod. You had been wondering when he was going to make this move, not that you know what it is. You had been expecting something in the car on the way over, but he had been the perfect gentleman all evening. Much to your throbbing pussy’s dismay. 

A most debauched  grin slides across his face. His hand traces a line up your exposed leg, right up the slit, triggering moisture to tingle inside you. Then as he pulls you closer, both hands slide around behind unclasping and unzipping your skirt.

“Austin…” you aren’t sure you are comfortable taking your clothes off here. 

“Trust me,” he says.

He grabs the waistband and twists the skirt back to front and rezips it.  The slit up your back side, barely covering your ass. 

“This was the first thing I wanted to do when I saw you in it,” he says, reaching around and sliding his hand up the slit again and under the fabric. His fingers play at the tuck of your ass. 

“C’mon,” he leads you out to the balcony. The railing is made of thick stone balusters that provide a modicum of privacy, from the waist down anyway. Only one side is open to the party below.  

“Here,” he guides you to lean forward against the balustrade, as though watching the revelry. The music is somewhat less loud here, the speakers aimed toward the center of the house. At least you can hear each other.  As you lean, the slit in your skirt slides up, your ass and pussy completely accessible to him from behind. The night is a little chilly, at least for LA. 

He cuddles you from the side, his right hand on your low back. He casually talks about the people down below, observing the human behavior while his hand slides down, rubbing your labia. 

“No big reaction now Princess, we can't let any stray onlookers know that your sweet pussy is all exposed for me back here,” he says with a smile.

You nod, your face as passive as you can make it as his fingers play at your cunt, spreading your wetness around. 

His other hand has worked his pants open, his tip just barely exposed.  

“Burrr,” he says in your ear.

“Need me to warm that for you?” you say casually. Your mind is buzzing with the idea of him inside you at such a public and potentially exposed place. 

“Oh I was hoping you’d pick up on that.” He slides in behind you, You spread your legs a little and the head of his cock rubs in your wet pussy. He leans over your back a little and points down at the crowd with a smile on his face. He is close to your ear as though he is just trying to be heard.  

“Slowly now baby, push back, open to me,” he is saying. His cock finds its way to your entrance, wet with excitement. 

Slowly he pushes in. God you want to flutter your eyelids, tilt your head back and moan he is stretching you so beautifully. But you just smile, your hands gripping the stone railing. Once he is deep in, you both stand up a bit, testing it out. He is so long it actually works. 

“Fuck you are warm, Princess,” he begins to sway a little to the music. His arms around you as though he is keeping you warm when it is actually the other way around. 

He gives you tiny little thrusts that reseat him inside you but that look just like dancing. He is driving you batty with this teasing, and you love it.  All you can do is clench your pussy down on him.

You stay that way for a couple of songs. Austin in you, holding you. Your head laid back on his shoulder. Your hands laced into his. It’s the most private of public moments. It’s sweet and sexy. As he sways back and forth, he is subtly shifting, pressing his hips into you nearly involuntarily. After a bit, he lets himself slip out of you and tucks himself back into his pants. 

You make a little sad mewling sound that you assume he doesn’t hear. But he does see the slight pout on your face that goes with it. 

“Wait ‘till I get you home,” he whispers in your ear, “I might just ruin that skirt.”  He gives you a little smile and a lift of his eyebrow before taking you back inside by the hand. 

You stayed for another hour or so. All the way home his hand is on your exposed thigh, painting small circles and lines on your inner thighs, dragging his fingers up and resettling his palm higher. Periodically he drags his pinky next to your labia, drawing a tiny line of wetness away and your breath from your body.  

You two don’t talk, he just drives and you just watch him. He is so damn beautiful, it makes you ache. Your fingers trace over the skin of his hand and wrist. Thoughts of his soon to be naked body on yours, his hands touching more than just your thigh, his scrumptious lips any and everywhere. These keep you licking and biting your lip. The sexual tension in the car is practically gelatinous by the time he pulls into the driveway.  

He parks a little haphazardly in the garage, gets out of the car and slams the door. Suddenly you are slightly worried that he might be mad, at what you don’t know. He whips open your door and offers you his trembling hand, nostrils flaring. 

“Austin, I -” he cuts you off short with a held up finger, tight lips and sizzling eyes that glance up and down your body. Oh… this is him trying to hold onto control…. Oh… oh my.

Without uttering a word, he pulls you with long strides through to the backyard.. 

Once you are next to the saltwater pool, by the patio table, he turns around abruptly to you. Shaking hands frame your face. 

“We started this outside, we’re finishing it outside,” he growls. 

You just nod, you are more turned on than you thought possible by his passionate fierceness. 

His lips take yours, his tongue insistent in your mouth.  

Your fingers are undoing the buttons on his dark blue button-down. His own do the same to the pearls on your blouse. You run your fingers in the hollow between his pecs, feeling the sprinkling of blonde hairs there. You kiss down his neck and chest to his nipples as his hands partially untuck your blouse. Your tongue plays with his nipple, thumb rubbing across the other,  as his fingers deftly undo the clasp of your bra.  You moan in pleasure against his skin as his hands rub along the skin of your bra line and cup your breasts.

“I love those fucking sounds,” he says low and intense. 

You look up at him, a whimper escapes you unbidden. He is towering over you in his heeled boots. The relative dark of the night casting shadows across his face. His fucking perfect face. 

He sits down on the edge of one of the patio chairs and pulls you forcibly between his legs. He doesn't bother to take your top all the way off, just pushes your loose bra up off your tits as he grasps them. 

His breath sounds a  deep, appreciative ‘ohhhh’ as he looks at your bountiful chest in his hands. Your roles reverse, as he raises his eyes to you now from below; lustful and libidinous. 

“These gorgeous tits have been teasing me all night long,” his voice is thick with desire,”Every time I looked at you, I wanted to rip your neckline open and suck on them.”

Then his mouth is wide on one breast, taking as much of your nipple and areola into his mouth as he can, his tongue lolling against you. 

Your fingers rake through his hair and drape around his neck. 

He pulls off with a low pop. His hand rolls your tightening, wet nub in his palm as he sucks the other side. 

Soft ‘ohhs’ and moans escape with your breath.  

He switches back and forth, flicking his tongue against your nipples one time, then sucking harder the next. Each new sensation sends new little jets of pleasure shooting from your tits to your pelvis and pushes more little moans from your mouth. You can feel your juices bubble from your pussy, lubing your inner thighs. 

He locks his wild eyes with yours and unzips the skirt slowly. It’s as though taking his time is the only way to control himself, to keep him from tearing it off you.  You assume he’s gonna slip it off, but instead, he turns it front to back again, leaving it undone this time so it rides high, your ass exposed. 

Even in the fervor of his desire, he raises an inquiring eyebrow up at you. 

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding. Yes for what? You don’t know and you don’t care as long as it involves him. Austin can do anything he likes to you.

Abruptly you are bent over the patio table, the porcelain tile cool on your exposed breasts. You don’t remember him standing up. You hear the zipper of his fly. You arch your ass back and look invitingly over your shoulder at him. 

“Oh god Princess, I’ve needed you since the balcony,” his shirt hangs open between the edges of his suit jacket, framing his lean torso. His hand is in his boxers, pulling his cock out.

“Do it, my Austin,” you say back, just as needy.

He rubs his tip against your folds. 

“Oh my god you are so fucking wet,” he moans, brow knit together. He pushes his hardness deep in between your wet inner thighs, his tip against your clit. You smile as your thighs squeeze together. Yielding, for the moment to his deep hunger, he thrusts fast and sharp between your legs. Vocalizing in grunts. He quickly pulls away after a dozen or so, breathing through his mouth as though to control himself. 

You step your legs apart. Your ass is perfectly framed by the slit in your skirt. It’s what he has wanted since he saw you in the store last weekend. You shake your ass a little, inviting him to delve into you. 

He does. 

Soft open sounds lilt from him as he pushes in slow. In, in, in, as far as he can. His hips are smashed against your ass. FUCK he feels so damn good in you. Right at the end he gives a little extra thrust. You squeak, jerking a little against the table.  Then out  just as slow, both of you savoring every centimeter of contact. 

Once he is in deep again, he leans over your back,  unsteady fingers brush your hair aside and over your shoulder.

“You are so incredible, my gorgeous night goddess.” He pulls your chin around, your spine twisting to look at him. “Making me want you all night long in this slutty- little- skirt.” He stresses the last three words with thrusts.  His mouth is on yours as he pulls out half way and pushes in again with a little grunt before letting up. “You don’t know how much will power it took to just be in you earlier and not fuck you.” His left arm wraps around your shoulder. His hand splays over your sternum then pulls you more upright. His forefinger strokes lightly at the hollow of your throat. “I’m going to fuck you now though, hard.” 

You are caught like a fly in a web, a wet and willing sacrifice to his appetite.  

“Do you remember your word, Princess?” his voice sounds deliciously dangerous. 

You nod, not that you’ll need it. One hand wraps around his wrist, the other spreads on the cool porcelain. 

“Fuck me,” you say demandingly. You’ve needed him too, walking around with a wet pussy all night, making nice with industry people when all you wanted was a private spot and Austin.  

You can’t see the deviant smile that spreads across his face, but can hear it in his sinful chuckle. 

Then he is pounding into you from behind, pulling you onto him as much as he is fucking into you. It’s hard, it’s fast, it’s so wickedly good. Your tits are bouncing up and down. You give yourself over, completely at the mercy of his carnal desire, not anticipating an orgasm in this position.

“Oh fuck yes, so good, so tight, so mine,” his teeth are clenched next to your ear. 

His words make your head tilt back, mouth open, eyes closed. ‘His’.

His right hand dives between your legs, his thrusting motion giving rise to the perfect friction between the pads of his fingers and your soaked clit. 

You clench down on his cock. 

The squelchy wet sounds and the slap of his hips onto your ass make your closed eyelids flutter and an unexpected tightening starts in your pelvis. Not to mention his grunting ahhhs and groaning ohhhh’s  reverberating in your ear. “Yes, yes, fuck me hard, Austin,” you hear yourself almost whining. 

 He is, he does and he keeps doing it.

“Fuck yeah, That’s it,” he moans as he feels you get wetter as you get closer.

“Yeahyeahyeahyeahyeah,” you chant as your fingers tighten on his arm. 

“That’s my girl,” he seethes in your ear, “Fuckin’ cream my cock baby, I need it, I want it all over me.” 

That’s it, the trigger, the button in this dirty little scene. You tighten, you shake , you cum screaming, knees buckling. You are held in the carnal web by his strong arm, impaled on his glorious cock. 

“OH yes, fuck fuck  FUUUUUCK!” he thrusts deep into you as you cum, filling you with his. 

You both are bent over the table, panting, his arms on either side of you holding himself up. After a minute of catching your collective breath,  you start giggling. You are just so high as he pulls out of you, dripping cum You turn around in his arms. His mouth is curled up in a smile. 

“What?” he giggles back. 

“I’m just…. happy… I’m happy,” you say more to yourself than him, “I’m so happy and so in love with you.” 

….

At a little lunch spot the next day, you deliberately order just what you’ll eat, no leftovers thank you very much. This kinda throws Austin off and he already seems pretty nervous. After you guys eat, Austin grabs your hands across the table and looks you in the eye. 

“Ok Princess, I’ve been thinking about it, and I have two , no three things to tell you.. Well… ask you. I’m hoping at least one of these will sway you.” 

You look at him a little confused. 

“About coming to live with me, that is,” he clarifies.

“Oh, ok,” your heart is about to burst, ‘please let this be good, please let it be enough,’ you think to yourself. 

“First is, in a couple weeks I am going to go shoot a small project. It's only gonna be less than a month, but I want you to come with me. I’d love your support and honestly, I don’t think I can go that long without seeing you,” he stops and looks at you hopefully. 

You are all in to go anywhere with him, but you were hoping for something more grand than this. Even if he got you a small acting role in the project that would be something. 

“Of course I’ll come,” is all you say.

“Ok, good. Second, and please don’t be mad at me,” he puts his hands out in supplication, ”I took the liberty of sending your tape to a couple people. They liked you and they want to see you, so, if you are willing, you have some call-back zoom calls on Monday.” He presses his lips together, eyes big and hopeful. 

“Oh wow,” you whisper, “really?” 

He nods. 

“Are you upset?” 

“What? No! No! That’s amazing! Of course  I”ll do the calls!” This was better, using connections to actually help you get your foot in the door. 

“And finally, I don’t just want to take care of you, I want you to be able to take care of yourself. So I’m offering you this, in your name.”  He hands you three flyers. They are houses for sale, two in Santa Monica, one in Brentwood, “I know how you like choices. So you get to choose and once you pick one, you can consider it your backup security. All three are awesome and ready to rent out.   We have appointments with my realtor buddy this afternoon.” His lip shakes, hoping to god you’ll like it, that it’s enough. 

You are floored, you expected… anything other than this. Even a wedding ring was more likely in your mind than a house. A place that was yours, that you could rent out or you could live there if, god forbid, something went wrong? Plus the possibility of an acting job on TOP of that? Your practical mind is chewing it over quickly, trying to find a loophole. Staying with Austin, having an income, owning a home, being loved like you’ve never been loved before. 

You are standing up, wait... when did you do that? 

“Austin, take me back home, right now,” you say in a sort of shocked voice. 

He’s stricken and confused. “But Princess, don’t you see. It would be in your name, yours free and clear.  You can rent it out as an income stream, and it’s…. it’s … yours… and  jobs and security. You’re safe…with me. Please,” his voice fades, eyes pleading with you.

You blink as he talks, yes you understand… why is he…?

“No,” you say assuredly, you see his heart drop in his chest. Oh shit, you are making a mess of this.  You shake your head to clear it. 

“No, no,  I mean home. Take me home to our house. I need to make love to you right now because you are amazing. Austin, you are my Fantasy come True, I am all in from this second on. I will never leave you, never stray, always be here for you and will treat you like my King and I know now that you will always treat me like your Queen. I love you so much I may burst.” 

You don’t really remember the drive home.

Austin barely makes it into the driveway before he throws the car in park and runs to open your door. He reaches into his pocket and hands you a set of keys and ushers you to the front door. When you unlock the door, he swoops you up and carries you inside. Jesus his muscles aren’t just for show. 

He sets you on the stairs. 

“We can change anything you want, Princess. This is your castle too now. If you want a room to be yours for things or if you need something special, let’s do it.” “Austin, my love, the only thing I want right now is you.” 

He kisses you into oblivion. You practically rip his clothes off in the foyer. He lets you.

You don’t even make it to the bedroom or the couch for that matter. He takes you right there on the stairs, with the front door wide open. He is sweet and loving, his hips moving like a dolphin on the water against your own.

You keep repeating “My Austin, my love,” while looking into his ocean eyes.  It’s slow and sensual and it means everything to you. 

….

Austin takes you to the apartment you had shared with your partner,  to get your things the next day. You tell  Austin he had better wait in the car. He is unhappy about it, leaning against the hood, watching intently, worried for your safety. Thank god you had thought about this already. You walk in, with boxes. Your partner is sucked into his game. 

“Damit, I thought you’d be longer, I'm at a good part,” he says. He hates when you interrupt his gaming. Well, he won’t have to worry about that anymore. 

You drop an InNOut Burger bag next to him. He pauses his game, looks at you and snatches it up. “Is that it? Didn’t Auuuustin take you somewhere better?” he smirks, opening the bag. 

You decide not to answer as he goes back to his game, stuffing the burger in his mouth. You just start packing and see if he’ll notice. You get your clothes  and the box in the closet that might as well be a shrine to your mom. A few of your favorite little items around the house. You carry them out to the landing, Austin is there, unable to stay away, and wordlessly starts taking them to the car. 

“Finally getting rid of your junk?” your partner says as you walk back in for the last box. 

“No, I’m leaving,” you say calmly, turning towards the door. I mean, in a way you ARE getting rid of your junk.

“What?” he says, looking in the closet at your empty half. “Oh, are you?” his voice is dripping with animosity. “Ok sure, go, you’ll be back before nightfall. You’ll never be able to survive the big bad world.” He follows you out the door, mocking you.�� “What, do you think you’ll actually meet Austin Butler and he’ll save you? Ha!” 

Austin steps up from the landing to take the box from you. He looks menacingly at your former partner, but says nothing. 

“Yes, yes he has,” you say, turning back. 

“What, did you hire a look-a-like or something?” he can’t quite wrap his head around what he is seeing. “That is pathetic, Ok you made your point, get back in here and I’ll forgive you.” 

“No, it really is me and no, I don’t believe she will,” Austin says quietly, gripping the box, his knuckles going white.  

“I told you, you never believed me,” you shrug, “in fact you actually never listened to anything I had to say unless it was about whatever thing you were fixated on at the time. I told you I needed romance, that I needed to be loved hard, loved fully, loved lovingly.”

“And you think he loves you?” he says incredulously. 

“Yeah,” Austin's voice reverberates behind you, “cuz he does.”

Your hand reaches out to touch Austin in an effort to both calm him and say ‘don’t worry, I got this’. Besides, there are  things  that you’ve been waiting far too long  to say out loud. 

“Yes, he does.” you repeat, taking a shaky breath. “I need someone who is willing to comfort me and who actually finds joy in making me feel better, and to feel good about myself.  Even you have said that you thought Austin would be a better partner for me than you are. Now you can take comfort in the fact that you were right. Austin cares about my feelings and what’s on my mind. He WANTS me, all of me and he loves when I shine.“ 

You smile, realizing how easy this actually is. You had been dreading the end for so long, avoiding even thinking about it. Placating your partner time and time again in fear of it, under his threat of it. But now that it’s here, it’s so simple.  

“I told you I needed these things and you just didn’t deliver. I realize now that you can’t deliver. So I’m done with your narcissism, with your supposed demons, with your total lack of empathy. I truly hope that you figure out how to be happy. But it’s not my job anymore. Goodbye.” 

“You were shit at making me happy,“ he yells at you as you turn away, motioning Austin to leave. Austins holds his ground, practically growling at the words he hears. 

“Yeah” you look over your shoulder,” because only YOU can choose to make yourself happy. And I’m making MY choice now.”  Austin nods, glad you stood up for yourself, and turns. You follow Austin toward the gate. 

“You are delusional and worthless! She is worthless!!” he yells out the open door at you both.

Austin just can’t stand by and let him insult you like this. Just before the gate, he stops in front of you.  His back expands in a deep breath, he puts the box down in front of him very deliberately. He turns around, staring down your former partner. You trust Austin, but you are ready to intervene if needed. Your former partner takes a step back, seeing the look in Austin’s eyes. 

“She isn’t worthless,” his tone is even and metered. He refuses to be brought down to this man’s  level, “Just because you couldn't respect her enough to keep her doesn’t mean she is worthless. She is amazing. She deserves all the love, support, and kindness I can give her, which is a hell of a lot more than you’ve done for her.  You… you are just a sad man who refuses to choose help.” 

With that, he turns, picks up the box and walks away. You turn with him. 

You don’t look back. Ever. 

…..

Epilogue

Austin helped you get  your foot in the door of the Hollywood machine. It lead to several acting jobs and because of Austin, you got to pick and choose the ones that really spoke to you, the ones that challenged you. It wasn’t long after you had really settled into acting that Austin  asked for your input about a show that he was producing.  Once he heard your ideas, he offered you the position of co-producer. You ended up realizing that producing was also one of your passions. You liked being in charge and making decisions.  You had an eye for talent and a mind that handled money well. So you and Austin started producing things together. You loved working with him in any way. You still did a lot of acting as well, because it had wormed its way into your blood. 

When Austin proposed, he had rented a little villa in the south of France, with a beautiful view of the coast. He kept going on and on about how much he loved this place, how he needed to visit every year just to reset.  He had cooked up a marvelous meal, complete with a delicious and  proper dark chocolate mousse.

The first taste of that thick creaminess coating your taste buds was just right. The strong dark chocolate flavor, the subtle bitterness, the light sweetness, all really grabbed the attention of your slutty taste buds. Your eyes closed as you moaned and savored  it. 

Then Austin had a big spoonful in front of your mouth, nodding for you to take.  You wrapped your lips around the spoon as he opened his mouth, like feeding a baby. 

That was when you felt it, a hard…. Ring? 

You pulled it out of your mouth and looked up to see him on his knee next to the table. Holding another one in a blue box. He knows how much you like choices. 

"I love you so much more than I could ever begin to put into words, my Princess,” he had said, “I want to spend every single day of my life trying to show you how much, my darling. A lifetime with you will never be enough, but it's a start, my beautiful Angel."

You had cried. He had cried when you said yes. You made love to him then and there. There might have been some mousse involved. 

You had wanted to send your former partner an invitation to the wedding, wanting to be kind and thoughtful.  But Austin had pointed out that even though you felt like it was an olive branch, it seemed more like adding insult to injury. 

“I know that if my girl was stolen away by someone that could give her everything I couldn't,” rebutted Austin, “I’d be pissed to get a wedding invitation. I’d feel like they were rubbing it in my face. And I don’t want a scene at our wedding.” Austin and you discussed it a bit and eventually both of you agreed that it was best not to invite your former partner.

You honeymooned in Japan. He knew you had always wanted to go and booked a beautiful Ryokan with a private onsen.  The food was amazing, your slutty tastebuds were not disappointed. 

Your wedding gift to him was the Villa he had proposed in. You had bought it with the rental money from your house in Santa Monica that you had saved.  You didn’t need that kind of assurance anymore, you truly had all that you had ever wanted and more. 

Fin

I hope you have enjoyed Fantasy Come True. Thanks again to @purejasmine for the request and the massive amounts of input. Working with you and becoming your friend has been a joy. Thank you for trusting me.

<3 @FaeGoddessog

[themistressdomme]

Mommy… I’m so tired.

I started my period this morning, and I’ve had a horrible day. I’m so sore and shaky and groggy. Plus, I have a choir concert this Sunday… and my choir/the MC is going to have to deadname me because my parents are probably coming, they weren’t supposed to be. I’m just. I wanna cry. I wanna be held. I hate this.

-🤟🏻

Oh, darling, I'm so sorry to hear that. C'mere, I'll give you a big hug and many cuddles.

Periods suck so much, I'm sorry 😞 They really can throw off your entire day.

I'm sorry to hear that you're going to be deadnamed. Oh god, that really is terrible, love. You can cry, you're allowed to feel sad and upset and frustrated and even angry at this situation. I'll hold you close, darling, put your head on Mommy's chest and just let it all out, okay? I'll give you soft head kisses and whisper that you're so valid, your gender identity is valid, and so is your name. I'll remind you that the shittiness doesn't last forever, and that your chosen family and friends love you so much for you who you are. I'll hold you tight, if you want, so your nervous system can get a little bit of regulating. I'll stroke your back slowly as I whisper to you, "You're going to get through this. It's going to be okay. I'm right here, darling."

I know you've heard it a thousand times, but it will get better, angel. And I am so, so sorry you're in this circumstance 😞

Could I please ask your pronouns, darling? xx

🤟🏻

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 30, 2013 Although it will probably take me forever, I’m going to try to catch up on the last few days after the both of us suffered through one of the worst illnesses we’ve ever had since meeting each other nearly 20 years ago. Damn, was that one seriously aggressive flu! I haven’t been that sick in over a decade. I’m not used to being sick, period. Since I quit smoking all I’ve had, for the most part, was ear and teeth pain and allergies.

Before I get into it let me go back and print a little retraction. I wasn’t quite right in saying that Andy treated a homeless woman to dinner, so he told me. She actually had an apartment. She just didn’t have a man to support her and her kids. Well, unless she’s disabled, she better hope to find a good-paying job because most women still get better support from a 5-year-old bra than a man.

Another thing is that I had to stop the Alli because that “bug bite” turned out to be an outbreak of hives. I have 3 big nasty raised red bumps on my inner right forearm that are sort of similar in size and shape to Cheerios, plus a smaller one on my stomach and one on my jaw. They itch like crazy and one is oozing. I don’t think they’re infected, though. The first one I got that I thought was a bug bite seems to be healing. It mentioned on the bottle to stop taking the pills if you experience itching but never said anything about bullous bumps, rashes or acne. Sure enough, though, when I checked online, I found others complained of the same side effect, but mostly on the face.

So once again Jodi gets punished for trying to find something to help her help herself lose weight. Being sick has taken over where the Alli left off and now I’m 143 pounds. I wanted to get to 110 but would have settled for 120. Instead, I’m going to end up at 300 if my metabolism gets any slower. Oh well. How often do I get what I want in life?

Because I’ve been too sick to write I may not remember all the details, but if I ever wished Tom and I had a nurse or someone helping us out it was when we were sick. Fortunately, though, he was a day ahead of me, so I was able to help him before the worst of it hit me, and he was able to help me, too. Surviving the storm together makes me so grateful to know we have each other for things like this. It would’ve been a million times worse to have to go through it alone. He is the most wonderful, most amazing person on earth!

He woke up sick Friday morning. Saturday night, I think it was, as I was falling asleep I noticed I had a tickle in my throat and began to cough, too. But I was too tired to drag my ass up out of bed to scald my throat with hot tea or something. Sure enough, I woke up the next day with a sore throat, and a bad cough and was achy as hell. After I showered and scorched my throat with hot coffee I thought I would be okay. Wrong! As I’ve learned, I can will away colds, but not flues. Just like Tom, I became so weak and all I wanted to do was sleep or just lay in bed. I could barely eat and my lungs were so congested. I had a bit of wheezing but the worst part was definitely the cough. Oh, how it hurt like hell to cough! Every time I coughed it would feel like a cat reached down my throat and clawed at it and tasted just awful. It was horrible. I couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time and whenever I’d manage to pull myself up out of bed to try to do things, I’d be exhausted within 20 minutes and would have to lie back down again. Both of us had fevers of up to 101°, but I didn’t have the runs like Tom did. He called out of work on Monday. Fortunately, he has tons of time off. Tomorrow he’ll be taking off so we can both go to the eye doctor.

Just when I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever feel human again, my throat and cough began to improve yesterday, and today’s the first time I’m able to be up and about for a little longer, even if it means getting my period a week early (yeah, I’ve had one screwy cycle lately). I even did a load of laundry and am airing the place out a bit. My head is still stuffed up so badly that it’s dulled my sense of taste, smell and sound. Yesterday I had allergy-like symptoms with a stuffy nose and sneezing, but most of this flu was in the throat and lungs. It was one long, hard road! Even the rats were worried about me. I was afraid they’d catch what we had and die, but they’ve proven once again just how tough rats really are, something I love about them that most people hate, and that’s the fact that rats are one seriously tough animal to beat down! Sugar was wheezing a bit, though. When I finally felt well enough to go near them, they were all happy and ran up to me as if to say, “Yay! Mom’s back!” I hated to neglect them for those few days, but it was better to be safe than sorry. I let them run around loose a bit this morning. When I get more of my strength back, they’ll be out and about as usual.

We usually do our weekly grocery shopping on the weekends, but since we were sick, it got delayed. Tom decided to try this service Raley’s has where you load up your cart online and they gather up what you want in the store. Then you go and pick it up and pay. He loved it. They were super-fast, too. I figured the person gathering the items would be some 18-year-old kid that’d fuck up half the order, but nope. They substituted a couple of similar items that they were out of, but they did a great job. It’s free for orders of over $100, so maybe we’ll do this more often.

This is the longest I’ve gone without working out and when I finally do get the strength to return to it I’m going to feel so out of shape. :(

Jesse came down to get some chain from his shit pile. I opened the door to see what he was up to and when he spotted me he said hello and asked if everything was okay. I told him we’d been really sick with the flu and he said he heard it was nasty. He heard right!

Despite the dreams and vibes that said big changes were coming in April I don’t see how we can possibly be moving that soon. Too many setbacks. There’s just one thing after another after another. Tom still thinks we will, but I really wonder if something is either trying to stop us from making a mistake that’d make us miserable or if it’s trying to prevent us from something good. Nothing up there usually cares to look out for us, so I guess it’s trying to hold us here to block us from something good. That’s what it feels like right now anyway.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 26, 2013 The good news is that Tom’s cold is mild and he has the whole weekend off. The bad is that he’ll need to spend it fixing his heel. Don’t worry, I told him, I know something up there is just trying to hold us back and keep us from moving. I told him months ago to expect all kinds of curveballs to be thrown at us. Unless God decides to drop a meteor on our heads, we WILL get out of here someday. It’s just going to be another year or two. For now, while I dread the next plumbing problem, I enjoy what I will no longer be able to enjoy once we do move – looking out the windows and seeing nothing but nature.

Anyway, Tom’s heel has been hurting him with the way they’ve been working him to death for so long. He needs to get a foot massager (I’ve always wanted one of those anyway), Epson salts, and new insole inserts for his shoes.

Now to bitch about my side effects and tech issues. The Alli’s side effects have finally caught up to me and I’ve had a yellow, oily substance in my number twos and slight staining on my undies. It’s harmless but annoying. I won’t buy any more Alli, though, once this bottle’s gone because I’m not going to lose any more weight.

I am so fed up with various website tech issues (especially on Facebook) that I realize that the fewer accounts I have, the fewer headaches. I can’t do anything anywhere without problems. If any account of mine is going next it’s definitely Facebook. I’m tired of all their changes as well as my messages and friend requests that don’t go through. Now some people can’t even see the things I post on their walls, so I’ve learned. It’s like I can only use some of the sites some of the time. Only problem is that if we really ever do move and we have a normal connection again, and if I ever do return to sweeping, I’m going to need a Facebook account because most sweeps are conducted there. That’s the way it was last time I was sweeping anyway.

Gosh, Tom’s cough sounds awful, the poor guy.

Anyway, nothing I’ve done on Facebook is against their TOS, so I know I’m not being blocked from sending messages and friend requests, and I know it’s not only me that’s had this problem. Besides, some messages won’t even go through to friends. But how am I supposed to try to connect with old friends or people like Jan if I can’t get through to them??? It’s frustrating as hell! Also, the site is running so damn slow that that alone is making me not want to use it.

One of my dreams in life was to sue someone if I couldn’t win a lot of money. Well, I got an email about a class action suit against FB. Apparently, I was featured in a Sponsored Story. I don’t know what “story” of mine they featured. Something I liked or shared, I guess. I first thought the claim had been filed due to a breach of privacy, but I guess that instead, it had to do with FB profiting off of stories. Hey, I always did say I felt like I was put here to make other people money and not myself. Like I said, I always wanted to sue someone or some company for big bucks, though this is anything but big bucks. It’d only be up to $10 if I choose to file (and I do) but if too many people file claims, the 20 mil FB set aside for this latest fuck-up of theirs goes to charity. I’m still going to file against their asses anyway. Those sponsored stories and suggested pages forced into my news feed sure are annoying as hell and this was why I left Twitter. Too much shit was being thrown at me that I didn’t want to see. If I want to like pages or read stories, I’ll do it myself.

I don’t know yet if I’m going to dump my FB account or not, but if I do I’ll let my closest friends know and make sure they have my newest email addy…until that one starts returning whatever I sent from it, too.

That’s another thing that’s weird and I don’t know if someone’s fucking with me or if it’s just the usual cyber glitches, but when mail.com returns some of my mail, they say my IP is blocked. But I accidentally sent a message to a friend that went through, and Tom sent me a message. Well, he’s got the same IP, so I don’t get this. Usually, when they block an IP it’s cuz of spam or phishing. But can’t they see that I only send emails to the same few people? I would have noticed if my account had been taken over by a spammer for a while, so I don’t know what to think. I’m just so frustrated that I wonder if just my other email addy and my blogs are all I should have account-wise. It seems the more I try to do online, the more headaches it brings.

Another thing that frustrated me was not being able to remember login info to our bank account so I could add that info to the claim form I started filing online. sighs I almost miss the good old days when life was simpler! For now, I guess I’m going to have to change my existing accounts using mail.com to my other addy, then I’ll shut the bouncing account down.

Just heard from a friend of mine and now I’m yet another step closer to shutting down on FB. Not just due to the glitches, but it’s getting kind of scary there. The latest scam is to set up accounts in people’s names, using their profile pics. Then they add their friends and beg for money. It looks like one of my online besties had that done to her. I friended an account I thought was hers that I was in the “suggested friends” section, but she says she only has one account. I can’t find that account, but I did find another one. I sent her the link. I’ll check for my name regularly so that if someone sets up an account in my name using my info I can report it ASAP.

One has major balls to do this to someone working with the FBI. Goes to show how much they either don’t know right from wrong or simply don’t give a shit what kind of trouble they get their asses in. Impersonating a pig is a serious offense. Impersonating an FBI employee online is no less serious. What’s the matter with people???

A quick reminder before I go. Just because I’m “getting along” with some people doesn’t mean we’re buddies. It just means we’re not having any problems. Period. This also means I would prefer it if you didn’t read my journal even though it’s public, and would like to ask that you please move on. There’s nothing here that should interest you. If you’ve come to see if maybe your name has been mentioned, you’re going to be disappointed. Unless you’re reading backdated entries I’m posting on other sites, but even then you may still be disappointed. Just please move on is all I ask. I can block IPs from my blogs altogether but would like to give people a chance to not visit it on their own before I resort to that.

Tom just got up and is still tired and hungry after 14 hours of sleep. He’s pretty sure he has the flu. He said people were getting sick like crazy at work and dropping like flies. Well, I hope that’s all it is cuz if my husband ever gets seriously ill due to being overworked by that place, I’m going after that company and the people running it. Yes, I just made a genuine threat. So sue me. :)

Later…

My two favorite men, my sister and myself aren’t doing the greatest right now. Tom’s been sleeping a whopping 17 hours due to this flu, only waking twice to eat, pee and drink. If his wife didn’t have a driving phobia she could do the grocery shopping. Tom has never complained, has always accepted me as I am and even said he’s kind of glad I don’t do the shopping regularly cuz I’d be tempted to overspend, but I still feel helpless at times. Oh well. I have what I have and I suppose it’s useless to beat myself up for it. I do my best and contribute in ways that are within my means. My mother (and others) were always quick to condemn me where my shortcomings were concerned and made like they were their problem as well, so I really appreciate people like Tom who love and accept me as I am. I can’t give you a ride, but I’ll tell you what those signs mean if we’re ever in Mexico, Puerto Rico, Spain, Argentina and places like that. Even some in Italy, Brazil and Germany.

Andy wants to get the hell out of Phoenix and never return. As I always said, good things have a way of coming to an end, and Phoenix sure did just that. The whole damn state did. He’s having trouble breathing and feeling let down by “friends.” He at least got to enjoy the warmer weather and was even nice enough to help a homeless woman out by buying her dinner. She didn’t seem to be on drugs or anything. Yeah, as my husband and I proved for a while 6 years ago, not all homeless people are lazy druggies or alkies. Some of them are just getting their asses whipped by the short end of the stick that is too often in the hands of society, fate and God. Well, we may’ve been a victim of the worst economic crisis in the US since the Great Depression for nearly half a decade, but we WILL get out of here someday even though something evil is determined to hold us back. A few setbacks and you figure it’s just life. More than a few and you start to wonder. Like maybe we ARE home. Maybe this is home at least until he retires and maybe THIS is where we’re meant to be. Only we’d kind of like to be where WE want to be, thank you.

My sister’s still upset over having to take oxygen and said that Walter’s going to be emailing me. Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve heard this before. I just want to actually get an email from him! I know he’s done a great job and that doesn’t make me any less appreciative, but I just want to get this done and over with, even if we might not be able to get what we want home-wise no matter how much money we have saved.

We got approved for the credit card we don’t even want, but that’ll help us establish credit. I still worry we’ll just be going from one dump to another but if that dump can be ours, then it’s a better kind of a dump. I don’t see how it could be quite as dumpy as this thing, though. Cali parks don’t even allow mobile homes this old or in this condition. They can be ugly, but they can’t be dumps. Exterior doors like this, bathrooms like this…no fucking way. They inspect everything that’s brought in there and if you even so much as thought of bringing a trailer like this in there they’d laugh you out faster than fast. They want them built like homes, not traditional trailers. But I still don’t expect to have that much more space or niceness.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 25, 2013 Every time I find something that I’m sooo sure will get these extra 20 pounds off, it proves to be a bust. I’m sick of this constant failure with diet and exercise! I work out hard, I watch what I eat, but I never seem to lose more than 5 pounds. I’m naturally heavy due to muscle mass, but I still have more fat to lose. Nonetheless, it seems that 145 is as low as I can go. Time to seriously consider seeing a doctor about what’s keeping the weight on. Diet and exercise with or without Alli should equal more than a 5-pound loss. Or maybe I jumped a pound in water. My boobs are getting sore which is a sign of water retention, and if all is back to normal with my cycle, I’m 12 days away from a period. Seems a bit soon, though, to start getting watery, though I often do.

If I absolutely had to go back in time and keep two subjects out of my blogs it would be any medical and legal issues I’ve had. Hearing people tell me my sleep issue is an excuse to be lazy gets old, and having people defend my perps all in the name of color is unfuckingbelievably insulting as hell. Anyone who knows me knows that if I didn’t really want to work or did something to someone I shouldn’t have done, I’d come out and say so. What can anyone do to me for it, come beat me up? Hey, I’m too lazy to clean the bathroom right now even though I should. Gonna come kick my ass for it? So my point is that I probably won’t divulge any further medical problems I might have in the future. That way people can spare themselves the self-flattery of thinking that I think they have some kind of power over me that could harm me lest I tell the “truth.”

One thing I’m definitely guilty of is being stupid. I mean really stupid! Marie left a comment (saying it makes you wonder, LOL) on my entry where I was wondering who the hell I was talking about missing after a year, and then I realized I had counted the years wrong and it was actually her I was referring to. Duh! She really has changed a lot, though, just like she said.

I noticed I’m getting more “likes” on my MyOpera posts from non-FB friends. Wonder who all the “likers” are?

Interesting dreams last night. My parents were still alive and my sister, nieces and myself were all visiting them. Mom pulled me aside and said it would really cheer Dad up if we could all spend some time with him cuz he was to be spending the next two months in jail, though I don’t know what for. Then I was helping to manage someone’s store (Jan’s?). Love how I can always keep schedules in dreams. Then it occurred to me that Dad would be in custody by now and that I simply couldn’t picture him locked up in a jail cell. I wondered if I should call the jail to see how he was doing.

Tom just got up and might have another cold. Geez, again? :( They better mean it this time when they say the OT is going to back off! Then again, everyone’s sick now except for me. He could kill it, though, if he’d just listen to me and burn his throat with the hottest liquid he can stand. When a cold starts in the throat, that’s the time to kill it.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 24, 2013 Molly updated her blog about how tired she is, but no one left any comments. I noticed that Jackie S is following Aly on FB. Wonder if she knows this and how she feels about it.

I feel both sad and glad for my buddy vacationing in Phoenix, Arizona. I guess it’s okay to mention this, but he can always tell me if he wants anything edited out. I think it’ll be okay, though, cuz I’m not mentioning anything personal. Just that while he’s enjoying the weather there, he’s been bored and saddened by the lack of Latinos in light of the new laws there, and how so many businesses, homes and apartments are empty. Also, there are still beggars and cops everywhere. Ugh, I remember that! Downtown Sacramento has its share of beggars as does any major city, but I remember the pigs being everywhere I would look when I’d be out and about and how it was anything but a fun reminder for one who’d been run through the wringer by a bunch of white/Jew-hating corruptos. It was about a 20-minute drive to pick up our mail at the PO and we’d be lucky if we didn’t pass half a dozen cruisers on the way to and from the place, and this was out in the middle of nowhere! In the city, you couldn’t go a block without spotting the corrupt little turdballs.

Someone once said I’d love them if I had to call on them for an emergency. Oh really? I’m not so sure about that cuz wouldn’t I automatically be disbelieved if a black person went to attack me that cried racism and said I attacked them when it was really just me defending myself? Wouldn’t I somehow be blamed if I were raped and told that if I’d just worn my dress a little longer or not been at a particular place it wouldn’t have happened? So no, I doubt I’d have much love for any cop, most of which are high on abuse and power and not the “serve and protect” idea. Hey, none of them are going to enter the academy and say, “I’m really here to act macho and act out my aggression and to speed even when I’m not chasing anyone” and shit like that.

Anyway, the emptiness there is mostly the economy. As for the Latinos, I don’t have much sympathy there cuz many were/are illegals that drain our resources. Especially from those that truly need help. The drug cartel was killing off both civilians and cops like they were merely stepping on bugs, and in general, they just weren’t any real asset to the area. People don’t want to hear this, though, no matter how much the statistics are right there in their faces. Say bad things about whites, Jews and gays, however, and they’re all ears. There are still a lot of hard-working Latinos out there and it’s sad to see the lazy ones who resort to crime and welfare make them look bad.

So, while losing our home there ended up being a good thing due to the dangers from the cartel and old enemies, the taking of our home is one thing I’ll never forgive God for. That and the legal abuse were basically the final straw where God was concerned.

I have a friend that’s trying to conceive right now. She and her husband are so sweet and would be excellent parents. But they are a prime example of God’s cruelty and life’s injustices and unfairness with all the trouble they’ve been having. Meanwhile, I still see mean, crazy druggies having no problem at all. She wonders if God has some other plan for her. Well, she can tell herself this if it makes her feel better, but it’s her life, so shouldn’t she be the one to plan it? And what if it’s not for some “better” plan but actually a punishment? God truly seems to punish good and reward evil. Makes me wonder if I’d have spent half a decade cramped in someone’s trashy old trailer if I’d had kids I’d abused, beat the shit out of people, robbed people, and done all kinds of horrible things I know I could never do.

Later…

Something bit me a couple of days ago and it itches like hell. Can’t figure out what it is. No bite has ever annoyed me this long and my anti-itch cream has been worthless.

I’m more worried about Tammy. The autoimmune deficiency disease she has causes her to have trouble breathing and she blacked out the other night for the first time, scaring both Mark and herself and was at the hospital undergoing testing. I guess some oxygen company is to be delivering oxygen to her. Nothing I’ve read says what she’s got is deadly, but if she dies I’m going to really start fearing for my life after losing my parents and brother in the same year! What a frustrating way to live, as she said. I remember back when I smoked and had to be rushed to the ER with all those asthma attacks just how terrifying it could be. A couple of times I wondered if I was going to make it, but I never blacked out. At least I don’t think I did.

I feel bad for Andy too, cuz he’s having trouble breathing as well in Arizona with all the pollution down there. I remember that all too well, as I told him. I stopped wheezing after quitting smoking but always had a tightness that remained until we left the damn state altogether.

It put a smile on my face to think of Tom and I enjoying the new house and the rats running around playing in it. They love running up and down the space between the slider and vertical blinds, so if we have such a thing in the new place, the neighbors are really going to be in for quite a surprising sight, LOL. I just hope it doesn’t take much longer and that it really does work out and we’re as happy as we think we’ll be there. I don’t expect any place to be perfect, but I hope it isn’t bustling with too much activity in the daytime. We’ll finally be in a place where we’ll be able to stream movies and so many other things we couldn’t do for so long and I’ll want to do it without the annoying background distractions. My biggest concern is being able to sleep.

Yesterday I was feeling kind of down and out just thinking of life’s injustices and unfairness. While my parents once thought of ways to spend money that could’ve helped me, I had to spend a half-hour trying to figure out how to make room for a fan. Just one lousy fucking fan. Yeah, we ordered another stand fan for the bedroom. Besides, we’ll only need them when we move cuz if any of the rooms there have a ceiling fan it will probably only be the living room.

Still, some people have beautiful homes yet will complain if one single carpet fiber is out of place while my husband works his ass off all day just to come home to this dump. He may not be the complainer I tend to be, but it still saddens and angers me nonetheless. Life is so backward so much of the time – people struggle to conceive while others run for abortions. People fight to live while others throw their lives away. People who would love to work but can’t while others laze around on welfare that are capable of working.

We really ended up with a great pair of rats. They may not care much for Tom, especially Romeo, but they’re fun, playful, friendly and smart. They were off to a dumb start, but they’ve learned their names and other things as well, a reminder that rats really are teachable and can figure things out on their own as well. Sugar’s getting to be a bit of a mama’s boy when they’re out, LOL, nestling up with me and climbing all over me. He loves to explore and playfully bounces around the place, then he runs up to me for attention and burrows in the folds of my robe. They’re going to miss this thing in the summer! They’re copying my schedule a bit more these days too, staying up later in the mornings as I roll onto days. They didn’t crash till after 8am today. They’re naturally nocturnal, though, so I can’t expect them to stay up all day.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 23, 2013 Facebook is at its worst ever with the glitches and it’s driving me crazy! The site is not only running in slow motion for me but there are still issues with sending/receiving messages and friend requests. I looked these issues up in their help section and it says that if you’ve sent friend requests that have gone unanswered or you’ve sent too many messages or spam or anything considered unwelcome contact, they can block you for a few hours to a few days from sending messages to non-friends and also friend requests. But it’s been way longer than just a few days and none of this applies to me so I would think FB would tell me if they were going to block me from some of their features, and it isn’t just me that’s experiencing this problem. What I don’t get is why the assholes won’t fix it!

Anyway, I probably should’ve said this yesterday when I shared the interview with Bill Cosby, but the only thing I disagree with is how he made it sound like all women have lots of “husbands” or men with the kids they have. Yes, fewer people are marrying, fewer people are having kids, fewer marrieds are having kids, more kids are being born to singles, and this is a trend we’ve been on since the 90s. But to me it isn’t one’s marital status that matters, it’s THEM that matters. I’d rather be born to one loving parent than two abusive ones. Who wouldn’t?

But not all moms are single by choice and I don’t think it’s fair to blame the woman if daddy runs as soon as he finds out she’s expecting, as is a very common occurrence. Statistically, most men don’t want the responsibility of children. They either don’t want to compete for the woman’s attention, don’t like the idea of smelly diapers – whatever – but if a man’s going to be dumb enough not to insist on BC if he doesn’t want kids, or goes and tells the woman what she may want to hear just to get her in bed, how is it the woman’s fault when she finds out he really didn’t want kids and that’s why he ran? It’s getting increasingly difficult to find a man who will not only be faithful but who truly wants kids. So that’s the one thing I can’t fully agree with Bill on. Some moms are single by choice, but some aren’t.

Later…

Just read the following paragraph in my journal in Word dated 1/24/11 that reads:

I’ve been missing her lately. No, not her. And not Nane either. The other her. I’ve thought of her every day since we stopped talking, but lately, I’ve been missing her more than usual and more than I ever thought I would. I’d just like to respect her wishes and not mention her name even if some people may be able to put two and two together and figure out who she is. But yeah, I miss her at times. I know, however, that to go back in time would be to start a whole new round of trouble. Trouble I don’t need. I have absolutely no reason, no matter what I may be told, to believe anything would be different now than it was a year ago. So I’d rather just miss her, wonder how she’s doing and hope she’s doing well. It’s easier that way.

But missing who? I have no idea who the hell I’m talking about. I know I’m not talking about Marie, Nane or my southeastern buddy. So who then?

TUESDAY, JANUARY 22, 2013 Molly hasn’t updated her blog, but she did go in and delete comments and she did peek in on me. Until she makes an update, I can’t say for sure if Kim’s been scared off by my contacting her sister or not. I still think that if I returned to Ask, so would she. It’s hard to scare the crazy. If you have no sense of right from wrong, don’t think you’ll be caught or don’t care, why would you worry?

For an instant, I thought of having Kathy casually ask Kim how she’s been just to see what she may say, but I don’t want to get Kathy involved and I know Kim’s likely to lie about what she says anyway.

We’ll believe it when we see it, but supposedly they’re going to really back off on the OT at work. If they could do that and throw Tom on second shift, it would really help with getting a place and getting out of here unless something up there is so damn against us that no one will take us anywhere. I still think we can get a dump in a dumpier park.

Tried to call my Italian Dad yesterday morning, but one number was out of service and the house number just rang. He’s 84. I learned that much when looking up the numbers on Zabasearch. If I end up unable to get a hold of him I’ll send another letter in time.

Still no meaningful dreams lately, but they’re not as negative. Just a bunch of junk dreams that couldn’t possibly be signs of anything to come. These spam dreams are often just quick snippets of this and that – sleeping on a coil spring mattress that has coils poking through at me. Silvery moonlight glinting off of spider webs on grassy areas outdoors. Trying to convince some woman in her late 60s to let me move in with her by assuring her the 52-inch TV I won (that’s really a 32-inch) would look great on her living room wall. Letting a 6-year-old girl “beat” me up by practicing the karate moves she learned on me.

MONDAY, JANUARY 21, 2013 Tom still thinks we’re moving in April and that my dreams and vibes that suggested this are “reasonable.” To me, it still feels like we’ll never get out of here.

I’ve been neglecting the stories I know I said I’d get on with finishing or at least expanding, but I’ve been rather busy. I had to smile when my good Pakistan friend deactivated her Ask account because I did, LOL. I appreciate the loyal fan that she has become.

I re-opened my blogs (I will not pick up or respond to messages on MD) for two reasons. One is that Facebook is still running slower than molasses for me for some reason, so I don’t want to spend much time there. Two is because I don’t see that it could hurt anything if people can read my stuff but can’t make me “accidentally” interact with them like they can on Ask. So if my re-opening of my blogs has sparked any hope in you that I’ll reactivate on Ask, sorry, but I’m not going to do so anytime soon. For now, I’d like to stick to sites where I’m harder to contact and I have a better idea of who’s who and what’s going on.

Later…

Nothing from Kim on FB or MD, the only places she could message me. I think the real test will be when Molly updates her own blog. Kim almost always leaves comments. If she’s not using her blog to insult others, she’s using it to try to befriend Molly. Just like Molly, Kim seems to like to try to win over those who don’t care about her. Can’t tell if she’s reading my blogs since she likes to hide from my tracker, but my guess is she’s checking in every day. Same with Ask, to see if I’ve reactivated.

Andy had me laughing like crazy yesterday on FB in regards to one of Nane’s posts on my wall where she sends me an ersatz haus (replacement house) since we couldn’t get that other one. He said that maybe Nane could buy me one with her street fight wins since we’d joke about her going to have fun fighting in these other countries that seem to live for fighting. We’ll find out next month, cuz my German hottie’s going to TR for a week. Aber das Haus war mein Traumhaus wenn nur sehr groß!

The rats were so funny yesterday. Both of them were out playing with us in the morning before Tom left for work. They’re so damn cute, though Romeo still isn’t overly fond of Tom.

Tom says he’s “almost sure” we’ll be giving notice in March and explained why he thought this. I see where he’s coming from, but it still seems a bit soon, even though my dreams have been saying we were in for a big change in April. Then again, if we just take the damn dump we were meant for, we could be out of here even sooner than that! It’s okay. Really, it is. I’m used to living poorly and that “dump” will be OURS and we can fix it up the way WE want. This is because I realize that no matter how much money we save, our credit is always going to be an issue cuz we’re A, not going to borrow money because we don’t want to borrow money and we don’t need to borrow money, and B, we’re not going to pay off those trying to scam us. I’m not without compassion. I would still lose money to help a friend in need that I know would do the same for me. And I’m not greedy either. I would share some things with those I know and trust. But I do draw the line at letting those with ill intentions profit at our expense.

I read this interview with Bill Cosby and I couldn’t agree with this guy more about the way people talk today, especially blacks! It IS about behavior and not color, and it IS a shame people can’t speak proper English. It seems all races are actually getting sloppier and sloppier with their English, though, and not just blacks. Maybe it’s just the writer in me that notices these things, and I know that some people aren’t the greatest typists and find it easier to abbreviate and make shortcuts when typing as even I sometimes do, but it is so damn annoying to have to read so many messages and comments 5 times over just so I can understand what the hell they’re saying. The way so many people talk and write today is a shame and I’m truly embarrassed for many of them. Don’t they realize or even care just how dumb and immature they appear? People have taken being creative and unique to extremes that are getting to be a bit overkill. Anyhoo, dat, dis, aks… those aren’t real words. At least not in the English language. I say, talk right, folks! The way we write says so much about us. In most cases, it may not matter what others think and no one’s perfect of course, but if I were submitting job applications, manuscripts or looking to date mature, intelligent people, I wouldn’t want to come off like a 1st grader. I have no problem with unique names and old traditions dying out (like how most parents are single and most marrieds don’t have kids these days), but let’s speak English unless we mean to speak some other language altogether!

SUNDAY, JANUARY 20, 2013 Nane and Irene are connected again. I didn’t think that after 30 years they’d stay away from each other forever.

My craziest niece (Lisa) is now 30, and I still haven’t heard from Jan. She doesn’t appear to have been around since the 16th, but who knows for sure?

Surprisingly, Kim didn’t comment to me through Molly’s blog and because Ellington, CT didn’t show up on my tracker list, I’m thinking it was Kim’s sister that was the hit from there and not Kim. If it were Kim she’d be showing up every day. Still, if Molly knows about my LJ blog, then so does Kim. Therefore, I’m not going to update it with current stuff.

I sprung the Justin account to life on Ask, curious to see if either troll would ask anything and they didn’t. I’m surprised. I wonder if Kim’s silence there and on Molly’s blog had anything to do with me complaining to her sister. It’s amazing how one sister can be so fit and successful and married with kids while the other is a fat mental case on disability and forever hopelessly single.

I would’ve done this entry sooner, but yesterday I was too tired, then I was too busy, and then my allergies just had to go off. Why are they acting up at this time of year? I’m guessing cuz it’s been warmer? The heat of the afternoon has been messing with my sleep, but I’m always too lazy to get up and crack a window. Oh, to have a house with a normal roof instead of this tin bullshit, and to have your standard 4” walls and an AC for when I’m not up to open windows. It seems like the only times the weather doesn’t mess with my sleep here is in the dead of summer when the windows have to always be open for the swamp cooler to work, or in the dead of winter.

I hope whoever we end up next to has an AC and doesn’t leave their windows open all the time. I don’t want to have to hear their mutts from indoors when they run up to open windows to bark at people walking by or smell their cigarette smoke.

I worried that if we didn’t get out of here soon enough, another crisis would occur and we’d be the ones to have to deal with it. Well, sure enough, I noticed the water pressure was low at around 2am and had to wake Tom up nearly an hour early to check for leaks outside. I’m so sick of him having to lose sleep for someone else’s old shit! And why do things have to break at the end of my day?

But there were no visible leaks outside. So he waited and called up to Jesse at 6:00. It turns out that a flap didn’t close right in his toilet and so that’s why it started draining the tanks. Next time maybe he’ll know to check this when he goes to empty that ass or the old hotdog. This is when I resolved to get out of here ASAP. I’m sick to death of all the problems here and not sleeping well in the daytime!!! Even if the weather is perfect for sleeping, in the back of my mind I know he may come down for whatever and I’m sick of it! Sick of the well (those are always an issue), sick of him, sick of his mutts, sick of the lack of space, sick of the internet, sick of everything! I don’t care anymore where we go so long as it’s not attached to anyone. Tom’s adamant about doing it right so we don’t swap in one problem for another, but I already know and figure I won’t sleep well in a park during the daytime either. Too much traffic coming and going. Most people come and go several times a day and they have company at least a few times a week, too. Delivery trucks, service trucks, trash trucks… I already know this will be an issue. It pretty much has to be in a place that houses that many people that close. But it will be ours and it will be bigger, and I’m sure I’ll sleep just fine at night. Besides, if it got to be overkill in any way we could add special padding under the bedroom carport that acts as a shock absorber. I can play the sound machine loud enough to drown out most sounds so long as no mutts are literally right outside the window or screaming kids that visit, but the vibration of all the car door slamming could very well be an issue.

Someday. Someday I won’t walk up to the sink and wonder if there’ll be any pressure when I turn it on. Someday I won’t take showers that smell like bleach half the time. Someday we will escape this bummery and our home will match us, so to speak, in that we will have what two people who work as hard as they can and to the best of their ability, truly deserve. God can’t hold us back forever. I won’t let Him. This doesn’t mean He won’t curse our new home with problems no matter how old it is. I know He doesn’t want us having our own place again, but tough!

Later…

The realtor called about a different home in that same park, but forget it. I’m not interested. The nicer homes are going to be in the nicer parks and I doubt the nicer parks will accept us so why bother wasting our time?

Besides, we’ve still got the management company in Oregon saying we owe them a couple of hundred bucks we don’t owe them, a common scam for management companies to try to make a buck extra in the end while spiting others by fucking up their credit. We always got along with them just fine, but I know that this is something they often do to everyone. No matter how clean and in fine condition you leave a place, they always claim you owe them money.

Then we’ve got some book club trying to scam us for $300 worth of books I supposedly got a few years ago. What books??? And where are all these books I’m supposed to have gotten? Tom’s still hoping he can dispute at least the books and that because we can easily afford it, we should just go ahead and pay the management company off. No way! Although not directly, we were already forced to pay those that fucked us over down in Arizona and I’m not doing it up here. Besides, that’s how you get taken advantage of. Give the blackmailer 10 grand and they’ll be demanding 10 more. I’m not going to let scammers profit at our expense just so we can get ahead in life.

My dreams have been too vague and erratic to possibly mean anything. In one dream I’m in a nice new, modern, spacious bathroom, while in a dumpy old place in the next.

Tom said the house we wanted wasn’t nearly as nice in person. When I saw the pictures I thought, ooh, brand new sculpted carpet, but he said it was actually old and worn. Also, when he went through the This is What’s Wrong papers, he found something bad with the electrical. It was okay for lights, but bad for computers. The park and the location within the park would’ve been ideal, though. However, no one has the “ideal” place unless they’re rich, so as I’ve always figured, we’ll end up in a dump in a dumpier park, but even the “dumpy” parks are nice. And if we have to invest 10 grand or so to fix and pretty it up, so be it.

I still feel like something is totally against us and is going to do everything it can to delay us from moving. Then when we finally do get our way it’s going to “punish” us for it. I think the best thing to do is just say “fuck it” and give it up for a while. We still don’t even have the money I’m supposedly still getting from Walter, and well, I’m just sick of this. I’ve had enough talking, planning, thinking, hoping and dreaming and I need a break. Sometimes the best way to deal with a problem is just to step back, remove yourself from the situation if you can, and take some time off. Meanwhile, things could be worse. We’ve got a home, we’re not on the streets, and it would be better if I just did what I can do to make this place as comfortable as possible and have the attitude that we’re going to be here for quite some time to come.

Things are otherwise going well. I’ve lost 5 pounds on my first two weeks of Alli and I can see where this is something that wouldn’t and couldn’t just stop working like a lot of things tend to do. It’s nothing one builds immunity up to because Alli always does what it was designed to do – block the absorption of most of the fat we eat. I love how it helps curb hunger too, and I don’t have to practically starve myself all the way down to just 1000 calories a day or work out for hours every day. They say to expect to drop about a pound a week, but I’m still hoping for two a week. That way I won’t have to buy the pills as much.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 19, 2013 Sure enough, after being empty a whole year, someone made an offer on the house and Tom had to turn down her “silent” offer to make an offer of our own because I do not yet have the money we’re waiting on and am beginning to wonder how many more months it’ll be before I do. It doesn’t matter anymore, though, because we have enough money for what we can get. I realize that no matter how much we save, the nicer parks are going to turn us down for lack of credit no matter how easily we can afford to buy the damn place outright and afford the lot fees. So more than likely we will transfer from one wooden crate on a steel frame to another that’s in a dumpier, cramped park, but that’s okay. This is basically all I know and at least it will be ours. If we furnish it according to its size, the lack of space won’t seem so bad, though I would still like an extra bathroom. Tom still thinks we can get a doublewide that’s older, and that this may be better in some ways because that would be easier to make into exactly what we want, as opposed to a place with appliances and things that aren’t quite what we want but not bad enough to change. I can kind of see his point cuz even though I’d prefer pink carpet, why change tan carpet that’s brand new and in mint condition just cuz it’s tan? Gray or olive may be tempting, though.

A friend of mine said she prayed that we would get the house we wanted, but it goes to show that the “sky daddy” and the notion of being able to simply ask for what we want is pure wishful thinking. No one would want for anything if they could just ask, and as I always said, you can’t pray for what isn’t meant to be and you need not pray for what is meant to be. I understand people’s need to tell themselves otherwise, though, so they can feel like they have a little more control in their lives.

I still think we were fated – and yes, I believe in fate – to live in tiny dumps. Seems obvious enough anyway. On the bright side, those dumps are going to be on dirt-cheap lots that’ll save us a fortune, along with the heating/cooling savings. By the time he retires, we just may be able to buy an on-site house outright and we could have one last shot at something newer, bigger and nicer. So fine, let’s keep living like bums as rich as we’re getting and just GET ON WITH IT ALREADY! Damn, I’m sick of this waiting game. Another 6 months or so and I’m really going to lose interest altogether. I’m like that in that the more I just talk about something as opposed to actually doing it, the more I either lose interest or it just seems like a dream not worth bothering with. Just give us another bummy old trailer like this that’s OURS and that’s HALF the cost and let’s move on!

Meanwhile, I was pissed that the realtor couldn’t have simply said why she was calling instead of interfering with my sleep and schedule one more time, but since she did, I’ve been dragging since I got up at 2pm after not crashing till after 8am. I woke up a million times, too. Had more vague and obscure dreams about packing or talking about moving, but again I never “saw” where we went.

Still pretty tired and it makes me glad Andy’s on vacation and that we’re not doing Ask. I know he’d be looking for me or at least for a journal entry. I haven’t even posted today’s old entries yet.

I’m down 5 pounds now, and Tom says there’s talk of starting a second shift in March. We’ll believe it when we see it, though second shift would be ideal for moving.

Still nothing from Jan. Although it won’t do me any good, I complained to FB about the problems sending/receiving messages and friend requests. She doesn’t appear to have been on FB since the 14th, so there’s still a little bit of hope that she may get my message and friend request.

She must’ve been married at one point, presumably to a guy, because her maiden name is listed as Ogden.

I also got a half-hour visit to my LJ blog from Ellington, CT right around Kim’s area, so it was either her or the sister. Different provider than I knew Kim to have, though, so my guess is the sister. She must’ve gotten the link from Kim because I blocked her on FB cuz I didn’t want to discuss Kim with her, I just wanted her to know what her sister was doing, talk to her, and hopefully scare Kim off. I don’t think anything will, though, unless she’s physically restrained from going online because she’s back to playing “Janet M” on Molly’s blog. Does she really think people are that stupid? How dumb can you be to use an alias people know damn well is just an alias? Regardless, I didn’t block the sister’s group page, so she might’ve linked to my blog after linking to my page from there, but Kim still would’ve had to give her my name either way cuz I didn’t. Or maybe it was Kim herself. She’s been disabling cookies this long, though, so I don’t see why she’d turn them on now.

And Norma has a proxy. Yeah, I thought it odd that she never appeared to visit my blog before I turned it to friends only, but when she said she wished she had known what I was going through as a kid (how sweet of her, though I don’t see what she could’ve done), I gave her my bio link on LJ and saw she was going through a proxy.

Anyway, Kim probably would disable cookies before she went through a proxy cuz that’s less complicated.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 18, 2013 Andy is now in the air and on the way to the desert!

Anyway, looks like Jan has no children and is in a relationship with a woman as of last year. Wow, I’m kind of surprised. So that married woman with 3 kids that I thought might be her really wasn’t her after all, just like the daughter Betsy had said when I went looking for her a year or two ago.

Jan was a pretty good-looking woman. What I usually go for – tall, dark, and older. She was part of the Klamath Indian tribe and was just an attractive lady overall. I got the feeling she was smart, capable of putting her foot down when necessary, but not mean or crazy in any way. What I like in a woman but tend not to get.

Thank God I could get a guy as great as Tom is or else I’d really wonder what the hell was wrong with me. And so I love women but choose men. I pretty much always have. Oh, I could get a woman, all right. She just has to be everything I wouldn’t want her to be.

Anyway, Jan had a cute little gift shop but eventually sold it to take her treasures online. She had given me a pen with the web address on it, but I haven’t seen the pen in a million years, so who knows where it is. I could never find her site, if she still has it, either.

In her profile picture, she still looks the same, but maybe with slightly shorter hair and maybe a shade or two lighter. Saw a picture of her woman and I would never peg them for a couple. Neither of them looks like lesbians. I know it’s a matter of personal taste, but I never liked the lesbian “dress code” anyway. Maybe that’s why I always had such a hard time attracting women. I refused to cut my hair off (above the shoulders) and act, talk, dress and walk like a guy. I was meant to be a woman, like it or not, but again, to each their own. To me, it just defeats the purpose of being attracted to women, IMO. I have always wondered about women who were attracted to people like Ellen Degeneres and KD Lang. Are they really attracted to women, or could they perhaps be attracted to men with pussies? I guess it depends on what’s important to you. I tend to look at people as a whole and I think that’s why I’ve always found women more attractive than men or women that look like men; because I like a more feminine look overall as a whole. Not as feminine as I used to but sort of in the middle. You can’t tell Jan’s gay, though I have seen more feminine.

Anyway, maybe that’s why I like to have a cyber GF or two. It’s my way of having what I can’t have. I keep them at a safe distance while I get to keep the man I would love even if he became horribly disfigured in a fire or something. Only problem is I don’t do much better of a job attracting good-looking, sane women with brains in cyberspace any more than I did in the real world. Then again, once I was married I did actually do a better job of attracting what I wanted; I just couldn’t have them. Someday. Someday I will have a friend with benefits and enjoy the variety of both worlds. I just may have to settle for a little craziness or a little ugliness cuz I ain’t hot enough for the hotties and am a little too batty for the sane ones.

I was thinking back on dream premonitions I’ve had that weren’t premonitions at the same time they were. I dreamt a friend’s Mom would die at the end of last year. Instead, it was my Mom who died. I dreamt my sister would die. Instead, my brother died. The point is that someone did die. Kind of makes you wonder.

Speaking of dreams, I asked for a sign in my dreams if we had any chance of getting the place we want as I was falling asleep. Well, I had a dream I was packing some stuff but never saw where we were going.

Meanwhile, the realtor left Tom a message asking him to give her a call but didn’t say why. God, I hate that! I hate people leaving us wondering what the hell they want. She probably got an offer on the house or needs to reschedule this weekend’s showing. Or maybe the place sold, though I don’t know why she wouldn’t have just said so.

She did tell Tom that she managed the park it’s in for 18 years and that she isn’t very fond of the current manager. I hope she’s not another Stacey! If it is we stand no chance of being let in without credit.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 17, 2013 I was surprised to learn Dad’s still got the group home up and running. I thought they would have sold the business years ago, but it’s a family business that Mom’s Mom started, so I can see where it wouldn’t be that easy to just give up. Can’t imagine Freddy taking it over either. Freddy always seemed to be the exact opposite of his parents in that he came off as cold, macho and uncaring. Totally not the sensitive, compassionate type it takes to run the type of group home LaRagiones is.

Anyway, I’d help if I could if I were there. I was remembering how grown up it made me feel to help serve dinner to all the people. There were about 5 or 6 large round tables set up in the main room in front of the main house, and I would have fun carrying out all the plates of food. Or some of them anyway.

Although I will miss having public blogs and the anonymous fun on Ask, it’s nice to be free of the trolls and not “forced” to give them the attention they want, in a sense, when they would ask me questions I couldn’t know for sure was really them. The break from their annoyances is nice. Like shedding a heavy coat on a day that’s hot as hell.

But I don’t want to be in hiding forever, as forever is such a long time. Right now I’m willing to give up some of the fun I was getting from it in order to frustrate them by wondering where I am and what I’m writing about in order to give myself a break from the same old kiddy crap I’ve been dealing with for years. Kim, however, proved to be a million times worse than Molly ever was and Molly was plenty bad enough. Most of the time Molly was a silent observer, following me from site to site, but Kim was anything but silent.

What was almost certainly Kim, asked Andy why he lets me tell him what to do. LOL, yeah, that’s a popular one they’ve both asked me and other friends before. Whenever we deactivate an account it’s automatically assumed it’s because someone told us to. Andy’s account still exists, but he hasn’t been using it much, so the trolls assume it’s because I ordered him not to. I don’t care, of course, what he does as long as he keeps my name out of it. Bringing me up would not only defeat the purpose of doing what I’m doing, but in their twisted minds, it would give them false hope of me returning. I may “wake up” my account there periodically in the middle of the night when they’re not likely to catch me, just to keep it alive. I hate to throw the account away altogether, glitchy site or not. That way it’s always there as an option to use, though I don’t think a year of silence will do the trick. I really think a decade could go by and they’ll still be looking for me. Just maybe not every day. But sooner or later they’ll think to look for me.

Had that pain in the lower right side of my stomach that I suspect could be a cyst on my ovary that flares up every so often.

I hope the trip to Arizona perks Andy up. I’m sooo glad he’s clean! Not just for obvious reasons but because Arizona’s the last state a white, Jewish, gay person wants to get caught in and deal with law enforcement. He’s definitely the minority of the wrong kind for that state. Even though what happened to me can never be undone and not every single person in the state was responsible for it, I cringe at the thought of placing just one toe over the border of that state for just 5 minutes. So if my toes won’t visit that state, neither will I! Tom feels the way I do, too. I had some fun times there, did some really neat things, and saw some amazing scenery and storms, but I’d go back to Massachusetts before I went to Arizona.

Sometimes I wish my friends and some family members that aren’t already there could one day meet up and retire in Florida so we’d all have each other to finish off our golden years with, but that’s just a fantasy. Still, growing old with Tom may be wonderful by itself, but growing old with Tom with Andy down the street, and another friend up the street, and maybe another a few blocks away, sprinkled with some family members, would be heaven.

Later…

Someone in Chicago spent two minutes trying rather desperately to access my MO blog. Could it be Kim’s “sources” trying to get a copy of it for her since she can’t read my MD blog? And if it is, does that mean Kim doesn’t know about my LJ blog? I know Molly does because she accessed it when she couldn’t access my MO blog, but does Kim? Well, if she does, she’s not going to appear on my tracker because the little coward prefers to hide. Aly once said Kim had issues with someone in Chicago, but are they still friends? Whoever it was really wanted in bad to try for two minutes.

A part of me is amused at the idea of just Kim knowing about and reading a blog where she doesn’t know I know she’s reading it and I can throw in all these little stories to piss her off, but the problem is Aly and Kathy. I can’t do anything to Kim or Molly (like drop my LJ link on Molly’s blog) without them knowing about it cuz they watch what she’s up to too, even if they remain silent. I don’t mind Aly and Kathy knowing about most things, but sometimes I just don’t want people to know things. Not everybody anyway.

Anyway, I don’t care about Molly’s lame blog, but I do find Kim’s paranoia interesting and a bit amusing. For some reason, she’s trying to buddy up to Molly and seems to think that everyone who leaves anonymous comments is pretending to be her.

I have some friends who want to read my blog yet don’t have FB accounts. So now I have to decide if opening at least one of them back up to the public is worth it or not. Although I know my stalking trolls would gladly stick their nosy little eyes into it, they can’t contact me on most of them, though I’m definitely NOT going back to Ask anytime soon. That much I’m definitely going to stay away from for quite a while, but not just cuz of them. I’m sick of their tech issues and need a break. But what to do about my blogs… hmm… I’m just not sure yet.

Now here’s some good and bad news for two people who aren’t meant to live in nicer places. We could practically move tomorrow if we wanted to cuz Tom works with a guy who’s tight with the owner of a 55+ park here in Auburn. They’re old single-wides that are “well maintained.” But we would still be cramped in like sardines with flimsy walls and single-paned windows. Ain’t it amazing how easy it is to get what we don’t want? However, the monthly lot fee would be dirt cheap. We’d save an unbelievable amount of money, and well, it just may be tempting when the inevitable happens and the nicer places turn us down for not having credit. I’m not used to nice places anyway. If we had around 1500 square feet, just what the hell would we do with it? I’m not materialistic and have sold most of my doll collection. So is bigger, newer and nicer really better?

There’s another co-worker, a woman who once managed a park in this area, that’d help get us a place there, but it’s a family park. She said there was no barking and that the few kids are quiet.

Yeah, right. Until we got there.

Looks like I finally found Jan on Facebook who used to own the gift shop I’d buy incense from up in Oregon. Facebook is really pissing me off, though, with not letting messages and friend requests go through, so I doubt I’ll be able to actually contact her. I couldn’t contact Kim’s sister there either, so I went directly to the martial arts website she owns and teaches from and emailed her there. I’m sure she’d take her sister’s side, though. Yeah, Kim will say I’m the one bothering her and big sis will be quick to believe it. That’s why I didn’t give my real name and address. But maybe this will finally make Kim think twice before she harasses people. It may make her try to reach out to more of my friends/family, but they’ve long since been alerted to both her and Molly’s shit.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 16, 2013 Sometimes I don’t know if Andy’s playing with me or if he’s just plain stupid. It REALLY bothers me that he answered one of Ask’s questions with: Jodi can still ask me questions here if she wants.

First of all, he should know the importance of not mentioning my name and that the more I’m mentioned, even if it’s not by me, the more they’ll come around. In their twisted minds, they’ll see it as false hope of me eventually returning. He said he deleted a question from the trolls AFTER he said he’d let me see it first, but wouldn’t say what the so-called question was. Like he doesn’t want to tell me or something. I’m sure it was just asking that I return there or whatever.

Secondly, I already told him I wasn’t going to continue on with questions there because they’ll know it’s me, and again, that will keep them coming around and using him as a means of trying to get through to me. Didn’t he read my journal entry about all this? He may not mind, but I do. I do NOT want to give these sickos the attention they want. Not directly, and not through him either.

Tom said Andy may like the trolls cuz he’s a natural troll himself. Yeah, I suspected that, but it’d be nice if he’d consider me a little more than he has.

I’m sorry he’s depressed right now and all that, but I want my name left out of things! Argh! Sometimes I wonder if I should just dump all my friends and go back to living like a hermit both in the real world AND online. It really gets under my skin to see my niece post: I have the most wonderful daddy in the world! He let me use his car because my heater is broken.

Yeah, well, her “wonderful” daddy had a big hand in ruining her aunt’s life for years, and her BIL’s, too. So to be reminded of this asshole isn’t a very thrilling concept.

Anyway, Andy became depressed in December and still is. He longs for the Mr. Right which obviously isn’t meant to be any more than I was meant to have kids, and he really hates winter. He’ll be vacationing in Phoenix soon and hopes that will perk him up. He just doesn’t want his broke friend there using him, nor does he want to stay with her. He said that last time her apartment was hot as hell and her kids were annoying him so bad and going through his stuff that he checked into a hotel. I also get the impression he’s not doing too well financially now, so why he’s going on vacation at this time beats me.

Later…

There was a good God in the sky today after all. Oh, I still don’t think we’re going to get the house we want, but not only did the propane people wait till after I got up to come refill us, but I also got a letter and picture from Harry, my Italian Dad! I was surprised. I didn’t really think I’d hear anything back and figured that if I did, someone may have to write for him as old as he is now. The letter reads:

Dear Jodi,

I don’t type so please accept this handwritten letter from your Italian Dad.

I loved your letter and appreciated it and how you cared for your Italian Mom. I am so glad everything is going so good for you and your husband. Sorry about your biological Mom and Dad. I am still trying to keep the group home going but it is very difficult without my Anna. She meant everything to me. I am lost without her. I am enclosing a picture of us.

I called the number you stated in your letter but someone said I had the wrong number. I don’t do computers or email. I am too old for electronic gadgets.

Once again I want to thank you for remembering us.

With all my love, Your Italian Dad Harry, xxo

I saved a copy of the letter I sent and I did give him the correct number, so he probably misdialed. I’ll use the cell to call him sometime soon.

The picture is as nice as the letter, but Mom sure looks different as opposed to Dad! Dad hasn’t changed much, but I’ve never seen Mom with straight silvery hair swept to the side. I remember her with short jet-black curls. I never cared for the look, but perms were a big thing in the 80s.

Gosh, such mixed emotions going through me now – so happy to hear from him, so sad to know Mom’s gone, so guilty for not keeping in touch. Thank God I studied Italian so I could recognize the spelling mistake I was making when looking up their name online.

Still wonder about that “strange” night, too. Was Mom saying goodbye? Did my psychic side just sense something was up? Or was the timing just a coincidence? I think it’s a combination of the first two since I’m not really a big believer in “coincidences.” The rat freaking out for no apparent reason kind of helped convince me all the more that my dear Italian Mom was indeed here, saying farewell from the other side.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 15, 2013 Deactivated Ask and turned my other blogs private/friends. Kim made up my mind for me when she asked me if I liked an actor I’ve known her to be obsessed with. She asked Andy a couple of questions too, and while they may’ve been harmless, that’s not the point. It wasn’t what she asked, it’s that she asked in the first place when she KNOWS I don’t want her contacting me OR my friends. Sometimes people just won’t let go of us and we’re the ones that have to do the letting go. Shutting down and going incognito was the only way I could think of to throw both Kim and Molly off my tail, though Molly hasn’t bothered me much lately. Kim’s the much bigger problem these days. Damn, I still can’t believe it! I’d never have guessed she’d do this to me. If only I’d known!

Andy may be disappointed that I left Ask, but I did it his way for a while and now it’s time to do it my way. It doesn’t have to be for forever. But if he’s right about them going away for good after a year of no contact, then I need to finally give them that year, and remaining public isn’t the way to do that. As I told Andy, I won’t be able to ask him questions there cuz they’ll know it’s me and will use him as a portal to keep the communication going. There are email, Formspring and other places we can keep in touch and share graphics and all that fun stuff.

I created a ‘smart list’ for select FB friends and that’s where I’ll share some entries from now on. Adonis and Andy aren’t on the FB note list cuz Adonis is on MO and Andy likes his emailed. I’m still going to carry on with my blogs as usual, too. They just won’t be public.

If I had to guess I don’t think even 5 years of silence will get these nuts out of my life forever. I think they’ll continue to look for me on and off all their lives. These are crazy people with no life and nothing better to do and no hope of ever having anything to divert their attention from those they stalk. They’re not just people being mean but that still have a life and can eventually have things to move on to.

I did it for other reasons as well and not just to escape them asking questions as if we were old buddies and shit like that. I did it cuz I’m sick of the glitches on Ask and to piss the trolls off. It’s going to really frustrate the hell out of them if they can’t see what I’m up too, LOL, though I believe they read my blogs for different reasons. In Kim’s mind, it was probably because she believes we’re damn good friends. In Molly’s mind, it’s to see if I’ve mentioned a friend of mine who used to be her friend as well.

Also, while I’m always careful what I put in public, these trolls don’t need to know what I am willing to write about online, even if it’s something as trivial as the soda I’m drinking.

I’m going to want to share pics of our new home eventually, and even if they don’t know the address, do I really want to let these trolls see inside our home? That’d almost be like opening the door to them in person and saying, “Come on in.” Only difference would’ve been that online they’d actually get out alive.;)

Later…

I’m totally dismayed but not surprised by Tom’s good and bad news after seeing the house today. For years I suspected that something up there has wanted us to live in tiny old dumps as if that was all we deserved. Well, when he described the house as being not perfect but totally ideal for us, it convinced me that nothing’s changed with this twisted “rule” because the park only accepts people with super good credit. It’s not just the house itself that’s ideal, but the park and the home’s location within the park as well.

Tom thinks we only have a 20% chance of getting them to give us a break and consider the fact that it’s been empty a year now and that if the owner gets tired of making the monthly payments, they’re the ones that are going to have the expense of having to repossess the house and fix any repairs that are needed, however minor they may be (flashing around skylights, chips in bricks, cracks in plaster, chips in an edge of the kitchen’s porcelain sink). Yet I know that people are greedy, stupid and stubborn. They won’t care that they could actually lose money that way. They won’t care that the monthly ownership expenses there are comparable to what we’ve been paying here for nearly half a decade. People’s rules and expectations are what they are and they don’t usually want to be flexible about them in any way.

It isn’t just the park’s standards and people’s stubbornness that makes me believe we’ll never get this house but the bastard above and His obsession with us living in little old dumps. It’s wrong, it’s unfair, and I don’t know why this is our “fate,” but there’s not much we can do about it other than accept what we can’t have and just continue settling. Whatever we do finally get will be too small, too old and too dumpy, but there’s got to be some park that will give us something better than this place that belongs to someone else, even if it’s not “ideal” or what we really want. But it will be ours.

Tom described it as being the Beverly Hills of parks, it’s that nice-looking and looks like you’re driving through a regular neighborhood due to how the houses are all at ground level. There was an empty spot next to it from what we saw on the satellite and we figured that since most satellite pics are old, by now a house had been brought into that spot. But nope. That’s a drainage ditch and will always be empty.

There’s more I could say about what Tom saw and discussed with the realtor, but why bother? It’s not in our “cards.” But it sure is in our cards to live cramped into shitboxes as if we were lazy little bums. Tom wants me to go see it this weekend, but I don’t see the point. He did tell the realtor we have no credit, but even she thought we should still go for it anyway. I guess Tom would rather go as far as we can with trying to get it and until and if they actually turn us down, but I say why fight for what’s not meant to be? I told him I’d think about it, though.

Later…

Andy agrees it’s ridiculous how the owners have different standards than the park’s. People want to sell their homes and are willing to work with those who at least don’t have bad credit and can afford the place, yet the parks want you to be perfect. If we did have great credit, what would they demand of us then? That we are able to stand on our heads for an hour? That we are able to run through fire, breathe underwater, and jump 20 feet off the ground? Makes me wonder if any park anywhere will take us unless it’s an all-out dump for all ages. Well, I’m sorry I didn’t have children to abuse to make me as “deserving” in God’s eyes as my fucked up mother was, but we will not live like bums forever! Fine, give us a dump with adequate space if that’s supposedly all we deserve and we’ll fix it up and make it what we want. It takes years to establish a score of 720 and I won’t do it. I refuse. I refuse to stay here and rent this dump from this pesky landlord for more years, even if he and his mutts have been quieter lately. God may feel otherwise, but my husband and I know we deserve better than this, especially after so damn long.

Speaking of that pesky landlord who’s been quieter, I figured the rising temps would bring him out and about more and they are. He was buzzing around on the ATV when I got up, and I know it’s just a matter of time before the motorcycle starts up again and he finds some reason to come down here cuz it’s been a while. Unfortunately, I don’t see any chance of getting out of here before the roofing excursion, and that’s going to be maddening if I’m on nights at the time. Then I gotta worry about the place falling apart on us while we’re still here. We have leaks everywhere in here! It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if the roof started leaking, too.

Gonna start taking melatonin again to try to hold my schedule on days as long as I can each time I’m on it. Right now I gotta hold it to make the waste-of-time appointment to see the house this Saturday at 4pm. I find the Neuro Sleep drink easier than the melatonin pills cuz one of the side effects of melatonin is that you wake up too soon. Well, just a few swallows puts me back out.

Tom said he’s going to see if the park will accept a deposit but I doubt they’ll budge. They’ll say something like, “Well, if we do that for you, we have to do it for everyone.”

Not if we all keep our mouths shut and don’t tell anyone you did it for us, duh!

MONDAY, JANUARY 14, 2013 Still wondering if I’ve got more than two trolls tailing me. Unless Kim has some amazing alters, I’m getting more than just her questioning me on Ask. I’d really, really hate to think Aly could be playing a joke on me! When I told her about the latest round of questions, Dustin said Aly was asleep and he was just checking her messages cuz she was waiting for info from her aunt.

Anyway, I don’t think it’s her, but I never would’ve thought Kim would harass the hell out of me either. Then again, Kim’s crazy, Aly’s not.

“Admit it, you’re just as bad as me,” was what I assumed was Kim saying in regards to Kathy and I anonymously messing with Molly on her blog last night.

So she does know what she’s doing then when she goes overboard with the role-playing? Is that what she’s saying? Either way, I didn’t answer this one.

And how did the person being so nice to Molly who Kathy and I thought could be Alison know there were two of us when they told Molly there were two people pretending to be anonymous? “Shall I contact you about what’s going on?” they asked her.

Today, however, Molly’s still stumped as to who we are. She wonders about me, Kim, Roman and who knows who else.

Dustin, however, says Molly’s back to harassing Aly. But how? If she can just block her and she doesn’t have her current phone number, then how could she harass her? She’s not blogging anywhere or using Ask that I know of, so it should be fairly easy enough to escape Molly.

“Bullying is never the answer.”

Kim? But why would Kim defend Molly? Does Kim wish they were friends?

Molly? But then why did she ask if I follow her on Twitter? Like she hoped I did or something. In truth, I don’t follow anyone on Twitter.

A while passed, then I got, “Is Alison as retarded as Kim?”

I wouldn’t answer and then they asked why not, because they were right? So now I’m dealing with someone who also has a grudge against Alison? The only one I can think of is Kim, but the person wrote kind of well for Kim. At least the Kim I once knew. These questions came in a little late for Molly, so Kim either has a friend, an amazingly brilliant alter, or there’s someone else I’m unaware of that’s tailing me.

There were other questions that I did answer that may or may not be Kim – about the rats, if I’m a trusting person, if I think anyone’s lying to me, and how Tom and I met. The one about Tom doesn’t seem like Kim, and she should know we don’t have cats (someone asked if the cat in my background pic was mine).

They also asked how many online friends I have, and then said they had to work in the morning and were going to bed and would ask more questions tomorrow.

The more I look at the questions, the more I see the spelling isn’t that great. If I had to guess, it probably is all from Kim and her alters. I can’t believe that many people are out and about asking anonymous questions. But if it isn’t Aly pretending to be Molly’s friend on MO, then who is it? The person writes very well, whoever it is.

Later…

“Why not go non-anonymous?” I was asked today. Maybe I’ll just go to Formspring instead. It sucks over there, but I’m sick of the glitches on Ask and so I’m going to see if I can convince Andy to sign up over there. I kind of miss having more privacy, so to speak, in a fun place where we can keep in touch yet be a little more open. But I won’t deactivate my Ask account. I’ll just keep it non-anonymous and check in every so often.

I’m also thinking of turning all my blogs to private/friends and sharing entries on Facebook, but only with some of my friends there. Not Andy, of course, since I email him entries, and not Adonis either since he’s a MO friend. And no, I wouldn’t accept new friend requests so don’t go thinking you could create a bogus account to friend me with if I did decide to do this. But right now it’s only a thought. I haven’t decided on anything for sure yet. It’s just that any friend is a potential enemy, as I’ve learned the hard way, but keeping info confined to FB should cut down the number of potential enemies I might regret sharing it with.

Aly says she doesn’t blame me for considering that and that Molly found her Gmail address which she has deactivated since a reply would be exactly what she’d want. So that’s how Molly’s back to bothering her. We’re just not sure if Molly’s smarter than we give her credit for or if she’s just that lucky to be able to find email addresses like that. Who’s found mine that they’re giving it to every single spammer in the world? I still think that was probably an abusive FB app, but you never know.

Anyway, Aly insists it’s not her messing with Molly and that someone else is trying to come off as her unless it’s just Molly reading things into what’s not really there. I wonder if Kim is trying to come off as Aly and give Molly the impression she’s on her side and wants to be friends.

Aly is against the idea of cyberbullying since her job, after all, is with cybercrimes, and while Molly may’ve done a lot of bad things, people have actually killed themselves after they were bullied. I agree that Kathy and I have been sort of stooping to their level by pestering the pests, so I’m going to just sit back and let Kim, Kathy and whoever else may be involved have all the fun.

The propaners are coming Thursday. I’m totally not going to miss having to call for propane and worry that it’s going to run out before they get here and all that! Plus, it stinks up the place when they open the tank and I always worry about leaks in this old dump, too. The house we want uses both electricity and gas which is good since gas is cheaper. The only real expense will be the AC in the summer, but I like it kind of warm, so it shouldn’t be any big deal.

Anyway, although I’m trying not to get my hopes up, Tom’s going to talk to the realtor tomorrow after work, since he’s the one who’s 55. If it looks good, then I’ll go see it, too. All the lost sleep I’m no doubt in for with the upcoming changes and appointments will be totally worth it.

This can’t go in public (yet) because after all, how hard would it be for a stalker to locate someone in a 55+ park next to a pet cemetery? Yeah, it’s a pet cemetery, Tom learned today, not a people cemetery. Good. They may mow the grass regularly there, but I doubt there’d be that many ceremonies. There’s a wall between the park and the cemetery, but we don’t know how high/thick it is.

We’ve both got eye appointments scheduled for the end of the month, then at some point, I’ll have to have the rest of my dental work done and move on to other long-neglected doctor appointments as well.

Lost 3.2 pounds after week one of the Alli. I’ve had no side effects and little hunger. Don’t know if I can keep losing 3 pounds a week, though, or if I can get under 120 pounds. I think 120 today would be the equivalent of the 100 I was at when I was young due to my current muscle mass. Tom and I were laughing at the BMI chart and how deceptive it can be when you’re on the muscular side. It was trying to tell me I was on the edge of obesity, LOL. Working out definitely makes you heavier than you look, so I’m going to go by inches and just how I feel for the most part.

Alli’s definitely been better than cigarettes as I really did not want to return to smoking! It may’ve helped me lose weight, but it would’ve also given me worse problems and cost a fortune.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 13, 2013 Boy, they are really kicking us offline more often and for longer these days, and I totally can’t wait to get the hell outa here! The hotspot is a joke out here, too. So who knows how many hours it’ll be before I can post this.

On the bright side, I love the idea of the agonizing anticipation the trolls are no doubt suffering as they peek in every other minute all day long wondering when the hell I’ll make an update and answer questions. Poor Andy, though. Then again, he has a life and better things to do than follow those who don’t want to know him, and he knows that some days I’m just too busy to make it to Ask. Still, the wait has got to be sheer torture for those trolls, hee hee!

I deleted the questions I know are from the trolls, and while I probably shouldn’t, I’ll answer the ones I’m unsure of.

Finally heard from Nane. She’d been very ill but didn’t say how. She got a kick out of Andy’s comment about her street fighting in Turkey when I statused that I wondered where she was and all that. She’ll be doing just that in February, LOL.

We also got an email from the realtor. We were surprised to hear from her on a Sunday. Tom probably won’t call her till Tuesday, though, cuz he’s got to set up eye exam appointments for us both tomorrow, and call the propaners out for what will HOPEFULLY be the last time.

Been having dreams and vibes about a big change to come for April, as I said a while back, but didn’t see how we could get moved by April. But now that we have a better idea of what I’ll be getting money-wise, maybe we will. I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high after all the setbacks we’ve already had. We still don’t know if the park itself will accept us and this may not even be a 1@55 park for all we know.

Anyway, the realtor said the house is a 3-bedroom and not a 2-bedroom. 3 would be great cuz then I could separate my office from my bedroom (unless the regular sound machine isn’t enough to sleep with). I could have my computers, stereo and treadmill in one room, my bedroom in another, and Tom’s bedroom in another. Then the living room could be a traditional living room plus Tom’s office.

I just hope to hell we don’t get “punished” for buying a place of our own this time around like we did in Maricopa. Clearly, something did not want us living there. I just hope the blacks and pigs aren’t waiting till we move to jump out at us like they did the last time, figuring it’d be harder for us to run if we owned rather than rented, but like I said, if they ever decide there’s to be a round two, they’re the ones who will lose, not us. If I’d killed someone, beat someone up, ripped someone off or burned their place down, that’d be different. Meanwhile, I’m not going to play court or jail for something I wrote over a year ago just because some people don’t want to hear it. She chose to read the email instead of marking it as spam.

Had a dream I was either staying with or living with Mary. At least I think it was Mary. Anyway, I was tipped off that the pigs would be around the next morning with a search warrant, though I don’t know what for. I spent the rest of the day and all through the night hiding my shit, but I’m not sure what I did to hide it and what it was I hid. I just hope that dream wasn’t a bad sign because I will treat anyone who busts in here with a search warrant, legal or not, same as I would any old burglar. Just because something’s “legal” doesn’t always make it right (it’s not like we’ve got drugs or stolen goods in here). It’s “legal” to discriminate against gays in most places. But is it right?

It’s a few hours later now, and after being offline for nearly 4 hours, Tom got the hotspot to work well enough to submit a troubleshooting ticket to our joke of a provider and they rebooted us from their end after finding an error on the line. Funny how there are “errors” almost every single fucking day at around the same time. I didn’t get online till around 4pm and all I had time to do was touch base with Nane before it went down, and that’s been it till now. So now I can finally post this after I mention how cute and funny Romeo is. He’s decided to be a little gymnast and loves to climb the drying rack.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 12, 2013 Got up at 1pm and have been busy as hell ever since. Every time I’d get a chance to go online, barely two minutes later I’d have to get up to do something else. But now, at coming up on 8pm, I can finally take more than just a few minutes to catch up with things online.

Only I don’t have much to say. I’m doing laundry, hanging with Tom, keeping the rats entertained, and now I’m off to do tomorrow’s grocery list and some other writing.

Damnit! Now I can’t get online. Could be an hour or two before I post this, but again, there’s not much to say anyway. Tom emailed the realtor about the house we want. There was another one listed for the same price in the same park only it was bigger and older. It appears that the “cemetery house” we want has been empty for a year. It started at 45K. It’s a lot of house for the $12,500 it’s now at and I’m guessing they’ve had trouble selling it either due to the park being more expensive or because it borders a cemetery. My guess is the price. It’s one of the fancier parks.

Tom let them know we’re looking to buy within a couple of months, and next we have to hope we see it, don’t find anything wrong with it, and that it looks as good in person as it does online. Another thing I like about the place is that it’s at ground level, which would greatly reduce the vibration of any car doors and whatnot. I just hope the park will accept us, too! It’s just beautiful. Pools, clubhouses, community gardens and other amenities, including security. You can’t just drive into the park. You need a passcode. It would be just our shit luck, though, if it were an all-at-55 park. They don’t say online, so that’s the first thing we’d have to ask, cuz some are 1@55 and others aren’t. Funny it’s in Citrus Heights too, after having a dream a while back about being surrounded by citrus trees. I also had a dream about Lincoln, but that one wasn’t as “prominent” and as memorable.

Romeo was so funny earlier. I had the drying rack set up and of course he not only had to have fun pulling socks off and things like that, but it was so much fun to climb it too, LOL. It’s like a little jungle gym for him… until he falls off.

Later…

There are a few people/things I’ve been too busy to mention yet, so let me start with Mary. The poor girl was fired. She said some dude hit on her, she reported it, and she was fired. This sucks, but I’m just amazed she got two jobs, housing and all the gadgets and electronics she’s got so damn fast and after spending over a decade locked up. I’m sure friends and family helped with some of the material things, but I still don’t get how she can get so much so fast, not only in this shitty economy but after being a high-profile case that was in prison. No one would give my record-free husband just one job for years, yet this ex-con, as much as she was more the victim than the criminal, gets two jobs and the apartment of her choice? Well, I’m happy for her though it hardly seems fair.

I called Paula and she is so damn annoying to talk to being so hyped up as she always is and so damn dumb. She interrupts, changes subjects faster than a speeding bullet, and doesn’t get half the stuff I say. I tried to tell her I wanted to conserve minutes (though the real reason was that I didn’t want to gab for two hours), and the dumb shit turns around and calls me back 3 minutes later to ask if I pay double for minutes out here. sighs I said I’d send her a letter and we’ll keep in touch that way since she’s never going to have regular internet access. She’s lucky this country doesn’t take violence very seriously because as I suspected, she didn’t do a day in jail. Just got an additional year of probation. If ever there has been someone who hasn’t changed a bit since she was young, it’s Paula. Even my mother changed a bit over the years compared to her! I still love my friend and have been friends for nearly 30 years now, but boy can she be one frustrating chick!

if the pigs are lying in wait with any nasty plans up their sleeve now that we’ve passed the 1-year marker since they contacted me (if it was really them), I don’t know about it. Again, though, they lose next time, so they better hope there isn’t a next time. Still wish I knew what “case” they made up on me if there really ever was one, and how much time they have on it before the statute of limitations ran out. It could be years, since after all, I was charged in 2000 with something I was supposed to have written in 1996, so it’s important that I don’t contact the black bitch. One simple “boo” sent 20 years from now could send the pigs running for something I never did 5 years ago. Sure wish I could torment her at times, though. She’d read every single word I wrote, not because she’d be interested, of course, but to see what she could get me with.

I have been playing with Kim, though. Sort of. Not directly. I haven’t mentioned her in my blog publicly. Kathy and I played with Molly a bit on her blog and Molly doesn’t know what to think, but Kathy and I both agree that Kim just might have a friend a little above and beyond her. She too, has noted how Kim writes like a third-grader, but this person not only writes better and defends Kim to Molly (mostly by bashing me), but has also been nice to Molly. The weird part was when they asked Molly if they should contact her “about what’s going on.” So other than saying that I’ve been going off the deep end trying to make Kim look bad and that Kim’s “not that bad,” they told me I should be ashamed of myself on Ask. That’s all I’ve gotten for two days now, which is kind of surprising. It won’t last long, though. Kim never seems to go more than a couple of weeks without pestering me.

A part of me is a little worried that even though Aly said she hasn’t talked to Molly since October, she could be the one being nice to Molly. Even Kathy wondered that, but if she were, why wouldn’t she say so? I just hope that if Aly does talk to either troll she won’t out us, but it won’t be the end of the world if she does. I just wonder how much I can really trust Aly. Kim’s turning on me has made me wary and paranoid. I assumed most of the shit I got on Ask was Kim’s doing, but what if it’s not? What if she’s got a copycat or someone that has nothing to do with her at all? Someone I least suspect. I’m either paranoid or Alison isn’t quite the friend I always thought she was. After all, I did catch her outing me to Kim once, but hopefully she’s learned from it. I wonder, though, if she could be behind some of the questions I get.

What’s got to have Kim totally freaking out, assuming she really is watching all our accounts all day long, is how I mentioned names of her family when pretending to be her to Molly. Hey, she pretended to be me and a million others, so why not, even if it was a bit childish and I don’t intend to make a regular habit of it? Kathy claimed to be Jennifer, a name Molly once used to stalk her with on the old Kiwibox, LOL. Nonetheless, Molly goes back and forth between suspecting Roman, a guy she stalked in her hometown, Kim, and probably others as well. She asked me on Ask if I were behind it, pointing out that we’ve been getting along. I asked her not to answer it and told her in the form of a question that it wasn’t me, but was probably Kim, and she honored my request.

Anyway, although she’s been playing peek-a-boo, Molly really has backed off and I shouldn’t mess with anyone that isn’t making trouble for me. It’s only fair. But I still want to see if not mentioning Kim or answering questions that are obviously from her can get her to leave me alone, since I can’t get through to her sister, the only seemingly sane family member she’s got.

Yeah, here’s where it gets a little funny. I looked up obits on Ms in CT, remembering that Kim’s father died last year and found the stern-looking guy’s obit. Again, I have to wonder what he might’ve done to his kids, especially if Kim really does have MPD. That’s usually the result of childhood sexual abuse. Anyway, She has an older sister who’s married with kids and is a karate instructor while her younger brother and sister are supposedly as fucked as she is and living in group homes. Still, Kim always keeps her friend lists hidden and I’m sure this has got to be at least a little shocking to her to see these names mentioned.

Anyway, Facebook has been having major issues with sending and receiving messages and they obviously have no intentions of fixing this problem, so my message to Carol, explaining what was going on and asking for any help she could give me to get her to leave me alone, hasn’t been read and therefore probably never received.

I remember once Kim said she was sad that family members deleted her on Facebook and she didn’t know why. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now I wonder if her alters showed themselves to them a bit too much and they dumped her for going crazy on them, and of course, Kim wouldn’t remember any of it.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 11, 2013 I’m not sure if I mentioned this in public or not but a week or two ago I had a dream that I would get more than just 2-3 grand once my parents’ affairs were all wrapped up. It was a feeling I continued to have even when I was awake. I figured I would receive around 5K, though Tom still thought it’d be 2-3 grand. So when Tammy left a message saying she had a lengthy talk with Walter and that while it could be a little less or a little more to expect around 10K, I was quite shocked and pleased! That’s more than my biggest win! Then I burst out laughing at knowing that another month or two from now, that money combined with our savings will make us worth around 15-20 grand while my parents are a big fat nothing. What a refreshing change, huh? I almost wish they could come back to life and appear at our door, wanting to be let in out of the cold with no clothes, food or money to their name. Then I could say, “Nah, we’re too busy thinking of all the things we could do with your money.” LOL

Before anyone thinks of insulting me by suggesting I thank God or apologize to Him when I thought we’d get nothing…don’t. That’s like being told to thank or apologize to a rapist for giving me money I never expected he would give me. I’m grateful as hell to Walter and to all those who had a hand in seeing that we got anything at all, let alone as much as we’re looking at, but that can’t change the past. What’s done is done. No matter how many heartfelt “I’m sorrys” God may care to drop down from the sky long enough to give me, it can never make up for all the abuse He allowed my parents to inflict upon me. When any God or human being sits back and lets someone abuse someone without doing a damn thing as far as stepping in and intervening, that person is not only just as guilty, but they’re basically saying it’s okay. Well, it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay when my mother slapped me around. It wasn’t okay when she called me a fat idiot who would amount to nothing. It wasn’t okay that she made me so depressed that I wanted to die. It wasn’t okay that she finally gave up on me and sent me away, even before the state took me away. She should have been properly punished, but since God thought it was A-Okay for her to do what she did, she never was punished, and if she never was punished here, why should I think she would be in any kind of an afterlife? If it’s okay here, why not there, too?

Same with the shitsters that legally screwed me. Yes, I was vindicated, yes Mr. Corrupto was dealt with, and yes, they should’ve been made to pay back the money we lost on account of their hate and vengefulness, and while money would’ve been nice and helped a bit, no amount of money could’ve paid us back for the time we lost together. You can’t put a price on time and you can’t put a price on mental anguish either. There may have been more I could’ve done as far as counter-legal action against them, but then I’d be stooping just as low as them by being just as vindictive, and these are the kinds of people that kill people and that have the connections to cover their asses and get away with it, too. And there’s no doubt in my mind that God would give them any added protection they needed. Remember, it’s okay to wrong Jodi S. So unless I am literally forced to take action against them or anyone else in the world, the safety of my husband and myself come first and foremost.

For me, it’s not so much about the money as it is what my parents can help do for us after not helping nearly as much as they should have and could have back when they were alive and we needed it most. We would’ve saved up enough to buy a place on our own; it just would’ve taken a few months longer.

Anyway, Walter’s doing this for nothing. I didn’t realize he knew Dad and I had assumed he had been paid up front. Again, I’m very appreciative of all he’s done! As soon as I receive the check and know his email address I will send him a hearty thanks and my book and blog links as promised over the phone a few months ago. It might be another month or so, though, cuz they’re now in the tax phase, the final phase. At least they don’t owe much there cuz they didn’t make much in the end.

When you set aside the fact that they weren’t always very nice people, it’s kind of sad to see their lives get picked apart and torn down piece by piece till absolutely nothing at all is left. And at the same time, I blame my father for protecting my mother right along with God, I know that if he could’ve shot someone who tried to kill me, he wouldn’t have hesitated even if he knew it would mean he’d go to prison for the rest of his life. sighs So, as usual, there are a lot of mixed emotions going through me now. Maybe it would be easier said than done to let them starve in the streets if they could come back to life, but it’s a funny thought to think of them out there nonetheless with absolutely nothing. Right now, though, I am mostly happy and grateful. And stunned too, to think that barely a year and a half ago we were thinking of the best way to die with some comfort and some dignity as opposed to dying hungry and cold on the streets, not knowing that a miracle would save us in the end and that a happy ending awaited us.

As I’ve learned, all we can do is our best, and sometimes we can survive while other times we can’t. But we did in this case, and now it’s time to happily move on to making new plans. I’ll get to that in another entry since this one’s getting kind of long. I just know that soon enough, the rats won’t have a nicer home than we do, and that if I never see another piece of paneling again once we do move it’ll be too soon!

Later…

Because Tammy was a lot older than me and our parents took off a lot, she was sort of like another Mom as well as a big sister. Sometimes she spent more time looking out for me than our own mother did, and I know she’d be the first in line – and probably the only one – to want to take me in if I were suddenly a vegetable in need of regular care but didn’t need to be hospitalized and didn’t have Tom. It seems so, so long ago that we’d lie on the grass as kids and gaze up at the clouds. We’d each decide what animal or object the clouds resembled depending on their shape.

Losing 3 family members in the same year, even if they won’t be missed, has brought us closer. I think that now that she’s gotten away from abusive men, and the evil mother that pitted her against me for God only knows why has died, there shouldn’t be any problems. We’re different in the way we think and believe and we have different skills, hobbies and interests, but we also have a lot in common at the same time.

I may never again be a phone person but it will be nice to get the computer phone up to speed once we’re gone and to be able to know it’s an option. I could use it at the computer and still get things done while we talked, instead of having to be glued to a shaky cell that wastes minutes in the kitchen. That’s the only room we get decent enough reception in.

But why doesn’t anyone want to talk for just 5-10 minutes? LOL, everyone wants to talk for an hour or two.

I also had a dream Tammy was in a few nights ago but didn’t think much of it. It still may not mean anything, but in the dream, I had just woken up and found her sitting in the living room reading. I said I had a dream where I was cleaning the kitchen of the house we want and hoped that was a good sign.

In reality, I don’t think that house will be available by the time we gather all the money together and start actually talking to people. However, I should soon start “seeing” things in my dreams to give us more of a clue as to where we’re going, the closer it gets. I did for the last two moves anyway.

Florida still has to wait till he retires cuz we don’t want to throw away such a great-paying job, regardless of the crazy hours. It’s not just the great pay, but the health and vacation benefits as well as bonuses and the 401K we don’t want to give up either. Plus, he’s looking at another raise in a couple of months. If it was your typical 24K job without benefits, then we might split.

It still stuns the shit out of me how well we’re doing even without what I’m to get from my parents. I was getting sick of renting, yes, but I meant it when I said I would’ve gladly settled for just enough to get buy with. The necessities are what really, really matters. Everything after that is just a bonus. So it’s quite a surprise to be blessed with all this extra goodness.

It’s going to be so nice and so much fun picking the place out and setting it up and decorating it! My only concern is all the car door slamming jolting me awake when I’m on nights. Yeah, I’m still worried about that. Once we’re in, we’re in. It’s not like we could turn around and sell it in a week or two, and where would we go anyway? So we’re going to have to take our time and pick and choose wisely as it’s going to take some serious getting used to having so many people that close to us as it is. Tom can adapt to pretty much any living situation, and of course, he can keep a schedule. Worst-case scenario we’ll soundproof the place if it’s too apartment-like. It’s much easier and cheaper to do these days, and the cool thing about the amount of money we’ll have is that after the place is all paid for, we should still have money left over to get things for the place AND jump-start the savings back up again. We still want to save most of the money that doesn’t go to necessities. I’d like to have at least 50K saved when he retires, and if he keeps making the kind of money he’s been making, that should be doable enough. We might even have closer to 100K. 50K would be enough to get us to Spain or Florida. I don’t know about Spain, but there are senior parks in Florida too, where we could buy something comparable to what we buy here, so long as we don’t end up not liking it.

I still sometimes miss being in a real house on a concrete slab, but that would up the risk of dogs being left outdoors more often to have to deal with, even in an adult community because it would be easier for people to get away with there than in a park, and if most people in the west don’t have to allow their dogs indoors, they won’t.

I still hope I can adapt to the car doors since 95% of the population has company almost every day, and even if they didn’t, they still come and go multiple times a day. Especially those who aren’t working. With a couple of short-term exceptions, we’ve never had working neighbors. They’ve always been on disability, welfare, students or retired. Some of the people will still be working where we go, but I’m sure each household will have at least one person who’s not working.

So just like I had to adapt to this loud water tank that ignites with quite a thump (it still wakes me up at times, though I fall right back to sleep), I’m going to have to get used to the people coming and going, the delivery and service trucks, the landscaping, and people out milling about. They may not be hanging outdoors sipping iced tea and playing gin rummy when it’s in the 40s any more than when it’s over 100°, but people still gotta walk their mutts.

I’m hoping the regular sound machine will be enough and that I won’t have to blast white noise from an off-dialed radio station out of the stereo, since the walls should be thicker and it should have dual-paned windows.

Sometimes you can never know how a place will be until you’ve lived in it for a while. I thought I’d sleep just great in Maricopa in the middle of a 10-acre ranch. But I was wrong when we learned the hard way about sonic booms and were surprised with how many people (not counting Scott) came to our door.

Getting a nice place won’t be the issue. It’s getting a nice place in the right location that could be a bit of an issue, and of course there’s still the park people to possibly worry about. They should accept us, though, if we pay for a place outright. I hope so anyway.

Both rats know their names. When Tom called Sugar, he came running but Romeo didn’t.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 10, 2013 It’s sunnier today than it was yesterday and I feel a bit more energetic. Yesterday I was really dragging.

Lost 2.2 pounds so far with the Alli, but still have to see it help me lose a significant amount to believe it. Tom had a point in saying BMI charts are kind of pointless. Professional athletes are always “overweight,” since muscle weighs more than fat. I think it’s our inches that matter most, cuz no matter what scale you throw me on you’re always going to be in for a WTF? moment as hard and as long as I’ve been working out.

Another dream with Andy in it. I don’t know where we were but were temporarily sharing a room (and unfortunately a bed) in someone’s house while attending some school. I don’t know what the classes were all about, but one night I couldn’t sleep and was listening to music till it was time to get up. It must’ve been summer in the dream cuz it was light at 6:30 am and I was going through summery clothes in preparation for “class.”

Glad to crash as soon as school let out so I could have the bed to myself, Andy said something about grabbing the attention of other women in the meantime.

“You can’t change fate,” I said.

“Yes, you can,” he said back.

I rolled my eyes and began hunting for something to wear before a stupid argument could break out over changing fate. But every pair of pants I pulled out didn’t match the top I had in mind, so I grabbed a pair of pants only to be unable to find a suitable top.

Andy called for me to move my ass from another room and when I stepped out a few minutes later he goes, “You’re not gonna be changing fate in that outfit.”

“Oh, worry about your own fate,” I told him with a wave of my hand.

“My fate is sealed, bitch.”

“Drive us to school, bastard.”

So it was inevitable that we argue in that dream anyway, LOL.

Really wish I could motivate myself to get back to my stories. I have like half a dozen unfinished ones but I seem to be mostly preoccupied with screening old journals for some of my blogs and thoughts of moving.

Although I’ll probably regret it since some people simply refuse to be ignored no matter what you do, I allowed for anonymous questions again and will just use my best judgment as to what I answer. Already someone who seems to know me is asking about my writing and the rats, though I realize it could be anyone. I have a lot of online friends and am a pretty well-known blogger after all.

Later…

As soon as I allowed for anonymous questions again, my “fan” wasted no time in asking about the rats, my writing and other things. Clearly, it’s someone who knows me, but it’s also clear that they don’t want to say who they are. But so what if they did give me their name? I would have no way to know if they were really who they said they were anyway. It’s still fun to be surprised by whatever comes in, even if it’s Kim I may be talking to. Sure hope not, though!

As the curious type who likes to analyze and learn, I was thinking more about Kim’s behavior, and while the signs of MPD are certainly present, how come her alters never showed themselves before she stabbed me in the back? She never presented herself as anyone other than Kim herself before our so-called friendship ended.

Really wish we could hurry up and get moved so we can plow more money into the 401K and lower our taxes, but there’s no way we could get out before the summer with our change of plans. We’re tired of living like bums. Both of us. Why put the money into an undersized oldie that constantly needed fixing and upgrading when that money could go into something nicer and newer? Just as long as we’re smart about it and don’t take on something with high monthly payments just because it’s nice, it shouldn’t be any riskier than buying a cheap old junker of a place.

Although it’s going to take some getting used to being choked in by so many people as even the “spacious” parks are cramped after having space for hundreds of feet in all directions around us, I’m definitely NOT going to miss Jesse’s engine-gunning. Fucking cock was at it with that truck or whatever it is a few times today. At least it’s not as loud as the motorcycle. It’s been too cold for that. By 7pm we’d already hit freezing and are expected to drop to just 28° tonight.

Paula sent a card and asked that I call her. Did she lose my number or something? Knowing her, she probably did. I’ll call tomorrow. She obviously never went to jail but if she did it wasn’t for long. I figured as much, though. She should be glad the laws are so backward and that it’s the violent offenses they go easy on. You gotta be careful what you think, but you can beat your man all you want.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 9, 2013 Not much going on other than what most people probably don’t want to hear because they would find it either too personal or too boring. I finally got a period after nearly 8 weeks of being late, I’m not the least bit horny right now, and I’m still losing weight. The Alli not only truly does seem to block most of the fat I eat from being absorbed, but it helps curb hunger, too. Again, I don’t know how long it will last, but I look forward to finding that out.

Just when I was thinking how peaceful it’s been around here, Jesse came out to play with his toys for a while, sawing, engine gunning, the usual… He shut up pretty fast, though, unless he’s just taking a lunch break or something.

I did have some weird dreams involving Nane, come to think of it, who I’m starting to go from wondering about to worrying about. Unless she’s hiding it all – and I don’t see why she would – there’s been no activity from her on Facebook since before Christmas, and she hasn’t picked up my messages either. If she were just busy, wouldn’t she at least check in just long enough to let people know she’s alive? I would think so, so that’s why I wonder if something’s wrong.

Anyway, in the dreams, she would alternate between spending time in the US as well as Germany. A little over a year went by that I didn’t hear from her, but when I finally did she told me she had a baby girl while in the US and was now expecting a boy (guess she was younger in the dream). Then I complained about her not stopping to see me when she’d be in the US (though I don’t know where in the US she would go).

Then there was a vague dream about me going to stay with her in Germany, and Andy owning his own restaurant and getting pissed at me for “testing” his mother for senility. I guess the way to do that was to ask if she knew her daughters’ addresses by heart or if she had to look them up, LOL. His Mom was sitting at a large table eating when I was “testing” her and Andy came up and said, “Hey. I’m sick of your shit,” and shooed me away from his mother and into the kitchen or wherever.

Tom was in one of the dreams too, showing me how to operate a partially broken and ancient TV. I said something about it being sad that at our ages we had to have a TV like that, LOL, whereas in real life we have a nice one that I won. We just don’t watch it much.

Later…

Really wanna allow for anonymous questions again on Ask, but know that would mean dealing with Kim and sometimes Molly as well. I miss the fun of it, though, minus their shit, so the question is, should I just take a chance of “accidentally” answering questions that may be from them and just ignore the obvious ones, or should I just keep the settings as they are?

Knowing just what makes this loon tick would help. I can only speculate and theorize, but without knowing for sure, I can’t say what would be best. She either knows what she’s doing and this is all one big conscious and intentional joke on her part, or she really does have MPD and isn’t always aware of her alters’ actions. The less of a sense of right from wrong and fantasy from fact she has, the more likely she will take my answering questions I don’t realize are hers as us engaging in a mutual friendship. Like that person said that asked me not to post her question, please don’t encourage her. Then again, it may’ve been Kim herself. There are a lot of “people” that I’m now suspecting may’ve really been her, like the one who questioned me relentlessly about my sleep disorder a while back, and many other things.

Upon reading the comments Molly’s gotten (before she deletes them), I see that Kim may have a friend. Unless it’s just her pretending to be that friend in her own defense, of course. The reason I wonder if this person may actually be for real is because of how well they write. Unlike Kim, they don’t come off as stupid, immature or sex-crazed in any way. Their spelling and grammar seem top-notch, and they make proper use of punctuation. This suggests a more intelligent and mature person which is why I think it may not be Kim. Kim – at least the identity I used to know as Kim – had poor writing skills. But how can an alter be any smarter than our true selves? It’s still HER. So I don’t see how one’s alter could be any smarter than they are, as funny as that may sound. They can be different personality-wise and they can be dumber, but smarter? Wouldn’t that be like an alter of mine, if I were crazy, speaking fluent Russian and my main self not remembering or being aware of it? I just don’t see how that’s possible, so Kim just may have a friend after all.

Again, is she crazy or acting? Hmm… when I think back to the prank calls Andy and I made, most of the recipients of these calls would have certainly thought we were either flat out of our minds or on drugs, while in reality, we knew damn good and well what we were doing/saying. I still think she’s crazy. Not many people could put up an act that well, that long, and that consistently. Even before she went wacko on me I noticed she had problems remembering things. I first blamed it on not paying attention due to lack of caring, but I really think she has no concept of right and wrong, doesn’t give a shit if she gets in trouble or what the hell happens to her, and probably can’t remember one day from the next very well. But she has to have some awareness to remember to peek in on me every day. She never seemed to forget my name or any of the basic details, so she’s got to be able to think, reason and rationalize at least a tiny bit.

I’d feel sorry for her if she wasn’t such a nuisance. A 300-pound crazy loser on disability who’s always lived at home and who will probably never have any type of real job or place of her own, can’t have much to look forward to in life. She’ll probably live and die a virgin, and as Aly said, I doubt she’s ever even been kissed. So what else has she got better to do than sit around and stuff herself while she pesters people?

How do people like her manage to stay out of jails and funny farms? She’s crazy enough to become threatening and get really carried away, though I’ve never known her to make any threats as of yet. Not in the I’m-going-to-kill-you sense, anyway.

I was telling Tammy that Tom’s overworked but at nearly a grand a week, he can’t complain that much, but to please tell people we’re still poor if they ask. If too many people know you have money, that’s how you get beggars on your tail. We probably will be poor again someday anyway.

I’m just sick to death of waiting for my parents’ money if there’s any to be had at all! Tammy said she’d call Walter and agreed he should’ve sent the letters he’s been saying he was going to send. Yes, he should have, but I don’t want “letters,” I just want my fucking money so I can know where we stand. As Tom said, it’s not so much that we have bad credit as we have no credit, so we’ll want to buy the place outright when it finally does come time to buy one. I still worry about the park itself, though, cuz we still have to rent the space it’s on and they could still turn us down.

Anyway, Walter’s still waiting on creditors. I guess they have a certain amount of time to make a claim against the estate, whatever that means. I’m not a lawyer so I don’t know how it all works. I guess it has to do with the debt the fucking bitch ran up before she died.

Still like that house by the cemetery but not that it’s in an expensive park. It’s a beautiful, upscale park, and yes, we can afford it. But I don’t want to just “afford” something, I want to be able to afford it and still save like crazy. But we also don’t want to settle for some cramped, scummy park either.

If I thought my ear and sleep disorder were hard to live with, my poor niece must feel the wrath of God around her big time now! How could any God be so cruel as to take the vision of a 25-year-old??? She’s prayed and prayed to no avail. Yet she’s lost a great deal in one eye and could very well end up with nothing in both eyes. Still not sure if there really is no God or if He just doesn’t care, but I can’t imagine living with no sight! They say we adapt, but still. We all have our limits as to what we can adapt to and that’s just no way to live, period. At least not for me. I’d rather be dead before I was blind or paralyzed.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 8, 2013 My niece Becky is having emergency eye surgery today. What a shitty thing to have to go through! I’m enjoying every single moment that I’m still healthy and able to do things unassisted and free of medication because I know that soon enough I will be old and start accumulating problems. Becky’s hardly old, though, so it seems all the more unfair.

Lost a pound and a half after the first day of the Alli diet, but don’t want to get my hopes up yet. Yes, 1500 is a bit high for losing weight at this age and height even with exercise, but most diets are off to a good start anyway. If I lose more than 5 pounds, then I’ll start to think, hey maybe I’m really onto something here that really does work. You still have to diet and exercise as with any weight loss program, but with this, I may not have to practically kill myself to get results by having to nearly starve myself.

It takes fewer calories to maintain lower weights and more to maintain higher weights, so the lower I go, the more I will need to cut calories. I won’t be going from 120 pounds to 110 pounds on 1500 calories!

In reading various posts on Facebook I gotta wonder why people are so damn hard to please. Really, they’re just never happy with people no matter what and they always, always complain about other people’s posts. Wouldn’t it be easier not to read them? If one’s status updates are sad, people condemn them for being down and not “pulling themselves up and booting themselves in the ass.” When people’s updates are happy and full of good things, people still complain and are quick to insist it’s just an act and that deep down they’ve got to be miserable.

Who the hell would say they were happy if they weren’t, and why? I can see not wanting to worry people if something was wrong, but I’d never lie and say I was happy when I wasn’t. Instead, I would just keep quiet about what was wrong if I didn’t want people to know about it.

And who would “choose” misery over happiness if it were possible to simply pick and choose emotions like you can food from a buffet? Sadness, stress and loneliness are the emotional equivalents of nausea. Who in their right mind would want to be “mentally nauseous?”

MONDAY, JANUARY 7, 2013 Took my first Alli pill and experienced no side effects. It’s much too soon to say whether or not it will help me lose weight, but I did notice something. We usually gain weight twice after we eat. First right away due to the weight of the food itself, then again 10-20 minutes later after the calories have a chance to get us. I usually gain 1-2 pounds depending on how much I eat, but after weighing in a half-hour after I’d eaten a regular meal, I was only up half a pound.

I’m PMSing so bad now that I’m going to be shocked, pissed and worried if I don’t get a period within a week. I have most of the usual symptoms, water retention, backaches, bloating, sore boobs and fatigue. These symptoms are getting worse, much like they do when my period is just days away. I’m having to really push myself to get anything done around here.

Just wondering if 6 months to a year of complete silence on my part really will make Kim go away forever. I’m not so sure with this particular kind of stalker due to how crazy she is, but I’ll find out someday. I miss allowing for anonymous questions but if I’ve got to deprive myself for a while to purge my life of this sicko, so be it. I’m going to be pissed if it all ends up being for nothing, though.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 5, 2013 Another chilly morning in the low 40s, but at least we haven’t made it down into the 20s so far this year or had a dusting of snow. Haven’t seen a dusting in two years now. Of all the climates I’ve lived in, the worst was MA. Not quite as cold as OR, but still too cold/snowy in the winter and too humid in the summer. I like this climate the best so far here in NorCal. Still a little too chilly in the winters, but love the hot, dry summers that aren’t as insanely hot as AZ or so insanely dry that no amount of lotion seems to bring moisture to my skin. I think FL will be my favorite climate if I ever live there. Yes, it’s humid year-round, but warm year-round too, and the moisture would be great for my skin and hair.

It was nice to find Charlotte who added me after I sent her an add request, though I haven’t heard from her otherwise. Charlotte, Jim, Goldie and Al were definitely the best of the family friends, though Char’s the only one left alive. I’m guessing she’s in her mid-80s now, so I don’t expect her to be that active online.

The only thing that kind of sucks is that with a few exceptions, it’s usually me that sends the add invites. Why can’t more people hunt me down instead for a change and be the first to ask to add me?

I’ve been doing better on evening out the attention, so to speak. One-sided relationships of any kind have always annoyed me. So the less I hear from people, the less they’ll hear from me. The more I hear from them, the more they’ll hear from me, but within reason, of course. I’m not going to go back and forth with people all day every single day.

Nothing from Nane since before Christmas and I don’t know if she’s playing games with me or if something’s going on. I’d say something’s going on since there’s been no FB activity of any kind from her, but she won’t hear from me till I hear from her. She knows where I am.

Starting to feel more PMS-like so maybe I’ll get a period this month. I should know around the 13th.

It’s all I can do to keep myself from turning my MD blog back public and allowing for anonymous questions on Ask. It’s a struggle not to as I really miss the surprise of getting anonymous questions. It sucks big time that this psycho has to ruin it for those who just want to have fun, but as I said before, I can’t always know who I’m talking to, and I don’t want to be answering to Kim no matter how polite and innocent a question of hers may seem. She seems to go back and forth in her mind between believing we’re friends and believing I’m stalking her and her many selves. So when she’s in buddy-buddy mode, I don’t want her getting the wrong idea if I answer any “nice” questions of hers and think we’re interacting as true friends.

trollpolice.com, which gives a lot of tips and pointers on dealing with people like her, really nailed it to the point when they said it’s common for stalkers to say that we’re the ones bothering them when confronted. They definitely do love to turn tables! Or try to anyway.

All I know is that this is a genuine psycho and they’re the hardest to reason with or scare off. They either don’t realize or don’t care what they’re doing. Again, I’m glad this nutjob doesn’t live down the street and know where I live. I could probably take her cuz she’s so huge and therefore couldn’t move very fast, but this is the type of nut that would kill someone right under a cop’s nose cuz “God ordered them to,” and hey, they were only serving their Master.

Again, as much as I’m itching to go non-anonymous (though I might go public on MD where I can simply ignore feedback), I really am curious to see if she returns if I keep it this way for 6 months to a year. I think she will. Time doesn’t seem to have much meaning for people like her, and again, this is a crazy person we’re talking about, not just a meanie. It’s also someone who has nothing better to do but sit and tune into the worlds of those she harasses or would at least like to. I keep hoping she’ll go pick on others, but just like Molly does, she’ll only add them to her shit list and not replace me with them. They’ll harass however many people they are awake long enough to harass.

Later…

“Do you have any friends named Janet?” someone asked Kristi, my latest Ask pal. Why do I smell a big fat, crazy troll behind that one? So what is she going to do, question everyone that non-anonymously questions me in a way that lets me know it’s her? Thank God I’ve got my FB friends hidden!

Other than waking up with congestion that is pretty annoying, I’m looking forward to pigging out today before starting the Alli tomorrow. It will cost something like $130 a month, but I don’t care. If it works, that’s all that matters and it’s certainly cheaper than cigarettes would be.

Today, though, on top of changing the rats’ cage and catching up on things around here, we’ll be out shopping and picking up some Chinese food for me. I love that new restaurant I finally decided to try now that we have extra money. Their fried rice is awesome. Last time I got shrimp fried rice, crab puffs and ribs. I think this time I’ll just grab some pork fried rice and beef & broccoli.

As much as I love glitter nail polish, I gotta stop using it on my fingers cuz the remover I use is tearing up my cuticles. Glitter nail polish is sooo hard to remove, but since I never remove toenail polish I can use it on my toes instead of my fingers. I never have the patience to let my fingernail polish chip off completely before I am compelled to remove what’s left of it and re-polish them, and non-glitter polish comes off easily.

Later…

Tom got back with the groceries around 8:30 and at around 10:00 we went to Kmart. I didn’t have anything specific in mind. I was just browsing casually when I passed by some really cute clothes for babies. It was then that I realized I could get something for what I decided at the time would be my Baily and Twinkle dolls which are 22” and 24” long. I never had before because I didn’t know what size to get, but after getting my lifelike baby doll onesies for 0-3 month infants, I knew the same size would fit them because they’re only a few inches longer.

So, for a total of just $30, I bought a ballerina dress with a pink leopard print on the body and a pink tutu and leggings for what was going to be Twinkle and a pink but mostly purple jacket-like dress with a hoodie that zips up in front and that that also came with leggings. The jacket has a cartoonish cat with silver dots of glitter and a pink sequin sash-like thing around the waist. The leggings have plum, pink and white flowers against a lavender background. This was going to be for Bailey.

The doll’s legs tend to be a bit fat and their bodies a bit skinny for the outfits, but not enough that they couldn’t wear them. However, it was Joy who ended up looking the best after I mixed and matched outfits. Well, they all look great and this makeover was long overdue! I ditched most of their old, discolored clothes.

Joy is wearing a purple onesie I turned into a t-shirt that I got when I got a 5-pack for my lifelike baby doll, Grace. I just snipped the ends off and tucked the hem. The leggings she wears is the purple one that came with a top Twinkle is now wearing.

Bailey is wearing the cute little ballerina dress. No leggings, though. The pink leggings that came with it are on Twinkle.

I also got a gorgeous Jaclyn Smith necklace with “diamonds.” A few of the stones are multicolored depending on how the light hits them and are totally gorgeous. If you like shiny things and colorful things like I do, you’d totally love it.

I got pink glitter nail polish, even though the last thing I need is another bottle of nail polish. It’s a shade of pink I don’t have, though, and well, I guess I’m a nail polish addict.

Lastly, I got a 3-pack of Body Fantasies sprays – Love Struck, Strawberries & Champagne, and Va Va Voom!

The weather was cloudy, damp and cold, but at least the sun wasn’t glaring in our eyes. I also got to test out my new crossbody purse. I found it more comfortable to pull it slightly toward the front of me as opposed to the side. I didn’t like the way the strap pulled on the side of my neck before.

Tom found some fun electronic gadgets so he could have some fun for the few precious hours he gets off a week, at Radio Shack.

Our last stop was for Chinese food. I got pork fried rice, fried wontons, and a side of beef and broccoli. I love the rice even if it’s a bit carroty, but the beef and broccoli are just so-so cuz the broccoli is a bit tough and huge, too. I gave the carrot slivers to the rats.

Not sure if I’m going to start the Alli tomorrow or the next day with all the junk I’ve got, but I may start with 1 or 2 pills a day instead of 3.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 4, 2013 sighs Kim has taken her stalking to new levels, now harassing people on other sites and not just Ask. She tried to friend a friend as “Janet M” on FB, but they knew better, since Janet, Janice and other variations of those names are either names she likes to go by or names she’s given her alters.

She once left the most insane feedback I’ve ever received, thus proving how truly crazy she really is and convincing me more and more that she truly does have MPD. If she doesn’t, then she’s a damn good actress. It wasn’t just what she said and the fact that she’s getting more brazen by the minute, but the constant usage of the words “we” and “us.” The things she says and does, knowing most of her family was/is crazy, and the sheer size of her all spell MPD. It’s very common for those who were sexually abused as kids not only to end up with MPD but also to eat themselves huge so that they think they’re less appealing in the eyes of their abuser. This is what I read anyway.

I honestly don’t think she’s fully aware of her actions as her alters take over for her and I think she’s just too crazy to care that if she keeps this up she could very well end up in jail. She’s leaving an electronic trail everywhere she goes, even though she uses bogus names and email addies.

What pisses me off is feeling powerless to do anything about it until the laws toughen up. It infuriates me to know that she can harass me at will and no one will do shit, but the cops thought they could cry “Case!” against me last year simply for using a website’s features? HA! Then again we all know that wasn’t no cop and that there never was any case since, A, I never broke any laws, and B, I came up with about 15 different things they fucked up on to show it was clearly a joke and a lame attempt to scare me. I know who it was. They know who it was. And if they ever come to my door… well… I won’t even get started on that one.

Back on topic. Kim. Kim unhinged and getting more and more delusional and deranged by the minute. It really sucks that my online life has to include such childish crazy shit from sickos like this. The number of insults, lies and threats she edited into my entry must’ve taken her quite a bit of time. So sad that some people have nothing better to do than devote so much time and energy into stalking those who were good to them. Ah, but I can type faster and so I had fun editing her shit to piss her off even more.

What’s scary is that these are the kinds of people who kill people cuz “the little voices in their head told them to” or for some other delusional reason. My life could be in serious danger if she or the people who victimized me in Arizona ever found me. The Arizona people cuz of hate, this one cuz of insanity.

Again, Kim obviously has no problem with providing more and more evidence against herself and building a case that could ultimately land her in jail. I honestly believe at this point that she’s just too crazy to care. I think she hates herself so much that jail would be the same as being home to her and that any place you stick her is all the same to her. She simply has no conscience or any concept of right and wrong. I can just imagine all the others who have been and are being stalked by this crazy bitch. But again, I think that even if 20 cops swarmed her place and threatened to throw her ass in jail if she kept it up, she wouldn’t give a shit, most likely because she either wouldn’t remember harassing people or she simply wouldn’t believe she was doing anything wrong. She is really beginning to make Molly look like a saint and I can just imagine how many times she falsely accused Molly of picking on her when it was actually the other way around.

Well, Kim, you’ll just have to harass me from other sites now, and please do. You may not mind a stint in jail, but just as soon as you give me enough evidence to get you there is as soon as I get to get a break from you, even if it’s only for a short while. So why not do me the favor since jail is no problem for you?

Speaking of jail and home, what is this thing doing in the free world anyway? I don’t understand why she’s not in some kind of controlled environment as crazy as she is.

Someone just suggested it could be someone pretending to be Kim to make it look like she’s worse than she really is, but I don’t think so. I’ll be the first to admit that I can’t see who’s on the other end of the computer, but the spelling and choice of words seem classic Kim to me. Really surprised she hasn’t shown up on my tracker, but I’m sure she will soon enough.

Interesting possibility, though, cuz if it’s not Kim, then that leaves a million possibilities, including those I’d least suspect.

Later…

Completed one of the programmed intensity workouts yesterday on my treadmill, but really realized that my body is still barely responding to diet and exercise. I considered going back to smoking to give it a boost since smoking elevates your heartbeat, I have congestion at times anyway, and we can afford it. I could always quit again later on.

Tom said before I do that, why not try Alli? It’s this thing that’s supposed to block the absorption of fat/calories. It started as a prescription drug but is now available over the counter. Possible side effects include gas and the runs. I read the reviews on it on Walmart’s site and most are pretty positive, so maybe I’ll try that first. If not, I probably will return to smoking. Been thinking about it anyway, though it would be for weight control only. I have no desire to smoke for other reasons, though it could shorten my life and even out our lifespans since he’s 8 years older than me. If I don’t figure out something, the problem isn’t going to go away and will probably get even worse with time. I’m really getting sick of working so hard just to keep re-losing the same few pounds over and over again.

Getting slammed with spam again and as if it weren’t annoying enough to have so many companies spamming me, they’re sending me the same damn messages over and over again all day long. Do they realize they’re doing this or has their spam machine gone crazy?

Muneeba joined Ask and is really a very lovely young lady, now that I’ve seen her picture. She’s not allowing for anonymous questions, fortunately, or else Kim would come at her pretending to be whoever.

Sarah’s posts are funny, bitching about the cold and snow and then a rat that was in her salon. They were all scared of it so they got some guy to get rid of it for them.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 3, 2013 How can any sane, normal, rational human being read this and not agree that Muslims are fucked with a capital F? Not the women and children mind you. No, they’re the victims actually, and I feel bad as hell for them. It’s the fucking cocks that are a problem! But shhh!!! This is America. We’re supposed to speak nicey-nicey about everyone who isn’t gay, right? Well, as fucked as my own country can be at least I don’t have to fear being legally raped simply because someone may be having a rough time in life.

Even one of the commentators said they’re getting sick of defending them the more they read shit like this. Really folks, what kind of society feels the best solution to stress is to go out and commit crimes and violate women???

It’s also a clear reminder that God is just as bad for allowing shit like this to run rampant in the Middle East. Just like one is just as bad for standing back and allowing a child to be abused without doing anything to stop it or at least report it, it takes a really sick God who’s pretty sexist Himself to allow for such sadistic shit. Oh, but He loves us all, right? He really does.

Kim is continuing to play with me on Ask. I’m 99% sure it’s her. Someone who obviously read my journal said that they were the ones to ask about my rats, not Kim, and don’t I know who they are?

If they were anyone other than Kim and with good intentions, they’d have come out and identified themselves by now. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if my “pretty lady” questioner was also Kim.

sighs What have I ever done to this nutjob to deserve this? I was always good to her. Why won’t she just let me go as I asked and move on? We’re never going to be friends again, so what’s the point in holding on? Don’t people want to be surrounded by those who actually care about them? I never would’ve guessed that Kim M of all people would pester me like this. But like it or not, if I ever hope to build a case against her, I have to keep the line of unwanted communication open.

That’s another thing about this giant nut that’s a little chilling. Doesn’t that possibility worry her? She seems to have no empathy and no apparent concern for her own well-being either. Does she not know what the hell she’s doing or does she just not care that she could be building a case against herself? Does she really not care what happens to her? Would she really not mind going to court and maybe even to jail? Or maybe she just thinks she’s invincible or something.

Some have suggested I ignore her, but it’s not that easy when you can’t always tell which questions could be from her. Sometimes she makes it obvious, but other times she’ll ask me a totally innocent question like if I know any French. Answering that, in her mind, is her way of pretending – or maybe even believing – that we’re old buddies. But again, unless I deprive myself of the fun of anonymous questions, I can’t always know whom I’m answering. So ignoring her altogether isn’t possible this way, and unfortunately, I can’t psychically erase any memory of me or my sites from her sick little brain, or else I’d do it in a heartbeat.

Maybe it’s time to go to Formspring as shitty as it is. We can seldom change backgrounds on Ask anyway. Andy can keep his Ask account, but I’ll probably deactivate mine. That would piss off and frustrate the troll more than anything else I could do, since she doesn’t have the guts to come at me out of anonymity, and I like how we can use animated backgrounds on Formspring. I know Andy would like me to stay on Ask, but sometimes we gotta do what we want. At least I considered him for a while and stayed on this long. Anonymous questions will be more fun in a place where I’m not pretty sure most of them are from this tub of shit that just won’t let go unless I let go for her.

The next question is whether or not I should share this publicly. I know she would get off on it, but it’s still MY journal. So unless it deals with personal issues involving friends, I think I should write for myself as I did before I started sharing my journal online and not worry about how others may react.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 2, 2013 Didn’t do much yesterday, but hey, it was New Year’s Day. Other than a quick run to the store, it was nice to be able to just relax and do whatever without doing any cleaning or laundry. All I did was the dishes.

Got over $500 in taxes heading our way as soon as we file, so that’s all the more to help with the move I still feel will never happen. I mean, I know it will sooner or later, but right now it feels like it’s way, way in the future.

The cock up the hill was back to running and gunning its motorcycle now that the weather has dried up and warmed up a bit. After 10 minutes of that fucking thing rumbling throughout this place I already missed the rain. But the 5-cast is calling for dry days in the upper 50s.

I was shocked to find myself down two whole pounds in just a day, but still no period on the horizon. I think that if I don’t get it by my next would-be period in a couple of weeks, then I very well may never get it again. I still worry I’m going to lose control of my weight and gain up a storm no matter how much I diet and exercise, but I know that prayer is worthless because it all comes down to fate. We can’t pray for what isn’t meant to be and we need not pray for what is meant to be, because if it’s meant to be it will be.

Maliheh sure makes me want to shake her when I hear her bitch about being 108 pounds and needing to trim 4” off her waist. Well, I need to trim more like a foot off my waist! As I told her, “I’ve got nearly 40 pounds on you, so shut up.”

I feel bad for her because the neighbors are back to the same old shit. The black neighbors, that is, that are favored by most laws/courts these days. Their dog’s barking every morning and sometimes in the middle of the night. She said it stopped by the time she called the cops out at 2am one night. What a surprise, huh? So now she’s ready to do what she has to do to get them removed. I’m totally with her on that, but after what happened to us for sending in city letters for our own black assholes, I worry about her a bit. They may not happen to have a pig pal, but still, people take being complained on pretty hard even if they know damn well they deserved it. They’ll take it like you’re totally wrong for complaining on them and like you’re victimizing them. What better time for blacks to play the race card and play victim than at a time when they are automatically believed and sympathized with no matter what? And I can promise her they’ll cry racism and that they will be believed no matter what stories they make up. Mine told the media I took a teddy bear and hung it from their clothesline from a noose. What’s the catch? I never owned a teddy bear back then and they never had a clothesline in their backyard either. But they were black and I was white and so they were the ones people believed. Other than family and friends, of course, who knew me.

Not saying she shouldn’t try to fight for what’s right. Just saying that even if they don’t have connections to law enforcement, they could still retaliate somehow and make life even worse for her.

Another thing that sucks is that even if these assholes ceased to exist, new ones are probably going to replace them. Same with if she moves. She’ll probably get the same old shit there, too. The mainstream is full of the same old smorgasbord of chaos – barking, loud music, screaming kids, etc. She’s got to get out of the mainstream. She’s just got to. Problem is it just ain’t that easy for her. I’m sure she could afford to rent an apartment or a trailer in a park, but the problem is that she teaches from home. She can’t be giving guitar lessons to kids in an adult community.

Had a nightmare where I was kidnapped. The dream only lasted for a few seconds, but I was in a large, old house like the kind that’s common in New England. I knew several people were in it, though I couldn’t see them at first. I ran and hid behind a door, then I sprung through the back door and into a tiny courtyard sort of like what we had behind our second house in Longmeadow. I woke up screaming for help.

The rats are having a field day with the empty soda box I gave them, tearing it up like it’s an enemy trying to kill them, LOL.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 1, 2013 Dear God (if you’re up there):

This is the year my husband and I take back what You took from us twice, first in Arizona and then again in Oregon. That would be a home of our own, God. It won’t be the biggest home. It won’t be the nicest home. But it will be OUR home. And while You are allowing countless other innocent children to be abused like You did with me, or even much worse than with me, we will remain in this home of ours until and if WE decide to move. Not when You decide by way of an economic collapse or by any other means. Furthermore, I expect all my days there to be sunny. Not filled with loud, wild, rude, crazy and obnoxious neighbors/mutts.

You need not treat me like a queen. You need not treat me like I’m special. You need not bless me with anything above and beyond what I deserve. But You do need to let us live in at least relative peace in our future home for as long as WE want to because I won’t have it any other way next time around! Yeah, God, get ready for a rude awakening. The one that comes when I put my foot down this year, yank the wheel out of Your hands, and take over the driver’s seat of my own life… vroom, vroom, vroom!

So now that my try-and-stop-me-now spiel is out of the way, happy New Year everyone. I hope you too, get the things you want and not the things you don’t want. Although, not all unplanned things in life are bad. I didn’t plan on Tom!

Not much else other than that the scanning job is done and after studying the pics of both sets of grandparents again, no, that wasn’t in the house next door to the one I grew up in. I don’t know where it was, but I do know I have to eat and work out now.

Later…

Photo Bucket is really pissing me off. First I’m forced to their new and highly buggy version, which won’t let me arrange photos in the albums the way I want them to be, but now it seems I’m back to the old version. For how long, I don’t know. I thought of uploading to MyOpera but that would suck up my space there big time. Maybe I should just fill up that account and then use another blog.

As a psychic, I usually get a good sense of what’s in store for the year to come on New Year’s Eve. I was looking back on past predictions when posting the last day of each year that I wrote and found that I did a pretty good job for the most part. I really fucked up with the years 2005 and 2007, though. Anyway, I guess I must not be very psychic anymore because I didn’t get much this year. Not in my dreams and not when I awoke at a quarter to midnight. Change in April, the color blue, and someone else dying are pretty much all I sensed.

But who could die this year that we know? His Mom’s in the 90s and seemingly immortal, and Bill’s cancer, unfortunately, is operable.

Sometimes I think of shitheads like Bill and wonder if they have a clue just how lucky they are. Lucky that they didn’t get with a bitch like me who would fight back. Then again, these cowards usually go for women they know won’t fight back or that will take an awful lot of shit before they finally do. Sooner or later they usually underestimate a woman and go up against the wrong one, but still, I doubt Bill would have had the guts to fuck with me like he did had I lived near him at the time. No, Billy boy, for you just might find you’re not as tough as you think you are, right?

So who the hell’s gonna die this year if my vibes are correct? Tom and I are healthy, Tammy’s condition isn’t fatal, and therefore I don’t have a clue where to begin guessing since I know an awful lot of people. Norma? Milton?

Not much happening today. Just a trip to the store and some fun stuff. Gonna rename my offline picture files and sort through those, then I’ll upload some more to Photo Bucket for now. Gotta proofread all the January 2nd entries, too.

[sluttyten]

how to know if you’re experiencing pms symptoms or covid symptoms, asking for a friend

[mamaestapa]

Heartbeat|| Smallville!Clark Kent x reader

summary: you’ve been feeling a bit under the weather lately, however you thought nothing of it. until one day you’re sitting in Clark’s office at the daily planet when your superhuman husband hears a heartbeat, and it doesn’t belong to you…

pairing: smallville!clark kent x reader

warnings: pregnant reader and lots of fluff

“Y/n, I need you to write this article for me about- hey are you okay?”

You lifted your head off of your desk, rubbing your face with your hands. You took a deep breath, opening your eyes. You were greeted by a frowning Lois Lane.

You smiled softly, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

She placed the folder in her hands on your desk. “Well you don’t look okay.”

“It’s just a headache, Lois.”

She nodded, “Alright. Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You smiled, “Thank you.”

She returned the smile before walking back to her desk. You sighed, rubbing your aching temples. You’ve felt absolutely awful for the past week. Between the headaches, mood swings, constant nausea—especially in the morning, and sore boobs, you’ve felt miserable. You brushed it off as PMS symptoms since you were expecting to get your monthly period soon.

As you were looking through the folder full of information for the article Lois had brought you, you noticed someone had placed a coffee down on your desk. You moved your attention from the folder to whoever brought you the coffee.

“Well thank you Mr. Kent.”

“You’re welcome Mrs. Kent.” Your husband replied, his beautiful smile widening across his face.

“Lois told me you had a headache, so I thought i’d bring you some coffee. Figured caffeine might help.”

You smiled, “Have you ever been told that you’re the best husband ever?”

Clark shrugged, “A few times,” he smiled, “but I thought she was kidding.”

“Well she must be crazy if she’s kidding.”

You puckered your lips up at him, he chuckled as he leaned down to plant a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Thank you for the coffee, my love.”

He stroked your cheek softly, “You’re welcome. Hopefully it’ll help your head. I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

You wave goodbye as he walked back into his office. You looked at the coffee cup, hesitantly picking it up. You weren’t sure why, but something inside of you told you not to drink the coffee.

“If you’re not gonna drink that, I will.” Lois chuckled, sitting down on the edge of your desk.

You sighed, “I want to, it’s just something is telling me I shouldn’t.”

“Hey, don’t count calories sweetie. You and Smallville have been married for what, a year now? You don’t have to worry about fitting into your wedding dress anymore. Drink all the coffee you want.”

You nodded, laughing lightly, “That’s not why. Then again, I’m not a hundred percent sure why though.

Lois chuckled, crossing her arms, “I’m sure it won’t hurt, just try it. It might help your head, you could be caffeine deprived.”

Lois had a point. You always did feel off when you hadn’t had any caffeine throughout the day. You picked up the coffee and took a sip of the hot liquid. It was your favorite, a Y/F/C/B (your favorite coffee beverage lol).

As soon as you swallowed your coffee, you felt the urge for it to come right back up. You placed the cup down on your desk as your hands flew over your mouth. You bolted up out of your chair and ran to the bathroom. Lois frowned, following you into the bathroom. You instantly threw yourself toward the toilet, throwing up the little contests left in your stomach. Lois held your hair back and rubbed your back as you threw up.

“Jeez, Y/n. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re pregnant.”

You groaned into the bowl, spitting out your saliva.

“Very funny Lois.”

She chuckled, “I’m just saying. I’ve heard some stories…plus have you seen your husband? I mean you could just look at him and get pregnant!”

There was no way you were pregnant.

You lifted your head from the bowl and gave Lois your best RBF.

“Sorry.” She grimaced.

“It’s okay. You do have a point…” you trailed off, biting your lip as you thought about Clark.

You were one lucky lady…in more ways than one ;)

Lois let go of you hair and stood up. She put her hands on her hips as she watched you stand up to look at yourself in the mirror. She gently placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah, Im okay now. I think I might just have a bug or something. That coffee was just the cherry on top that made my body have enough of whatever is going on.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “Well, I’m going to go get you some water. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You smiled, “Thank you Lois.”

“Of course.”

Lois walked out of the bathroom, leaving you alone. She walked down the hallway towards the main room of the Daily Planet where all the desks were. As she walked into the main room, she ran right into Clark Kent himself.

“Woah, sorry about that Clark.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled. His smile quickly turned into a look of confusion though, “Hey, have you seen Y/n anywhere?”

“I’m actually getting water for her right now.” Lois spoke walking towards a mini fridge that sat near her desk that was full of bottled water.

“Okay? Well, where is she?” Clark asked.

“The bathroom.”

“Is she okay? Why does she need water-.”

Lois sighed heavily, placing a hand on the worrisome mans shoulder, “Don’t worry Smallville, she is now. She was throwing up though.”

“Throwing up!?” Clark’s expression grew even more worried.

Lois just chuckled as she walked back down the hallway back towards the bathroom. Clark followed right behind her. Once Lois reached the door she turned to face Clark.

She sighed, “Did you not hear what I said? She’s okay now.”

Clark gulped, his face still full of worry.

Lois rolled her eyes, “Stop worrying so much, Clark. She’s a human. She gets sick, it happens. Come on, you know that. Haven’t you had a little stomach bug before?”

Clark went to speak but he quickly closed his mouth. He never had a “little stomach bug” before. Kryptonians don’t get sick like humans do.

Lois smiled smugly, “Thought so. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to give this water to your wife. I’m sure she desperately needs it.”

Clark nodded, “Okay.” Before Lois could walk into the bathroom, Clark stopped her.

“By the way, could you tell her to see me in my office when she’s up to it, please?

“Sure thing, Kent.”

Clark smiled softly, “Thanks Lois.”

She smiled at him before disappearing behind the bathroom door. Clark sighed in defeat, walking back to his office. Even with Lois’ reassurance, he was still worried about you. While you do get sick, it’s not often that you’re sick for as long as you have been.

Lois walked back into the bathroom handing you the bottle of water. You smiled taking it from her. As soon as you had the water in your hand, you screwed the top off and took a swig, swishing it around in your mouth to rid your taste buds of the lingering taste of vomit. Once you spit the water out, you took a sip, careful not to drink too much.

“Sorry it took so long, your husband stopped me in the hall.”

“It’s alright, don’t apologize.” You smiled.

“Speaking of your husband, Clark is worried sick about you. He told me to ask you to come see him in his office when you’re feeling better.”

You frowned. It pained you knowing your sweet husband was so concerned about you and your health.

“I’ll go see him right now.” You smiled. You gave Lois a quick hug before walking out of the bathroom.

“Have fun in there Y/n, but not too much fun!” She called out as you walked down the hall.

You laughed, “Cant make any promises!”

You rubbed your hands on your skirt as you got closer to the office marked CLARK KENT. You knocked on the door, waiting for Clark’s approval for you to come into his office.

“Come in!” He called.

You turned the knob and walked into his office, greeting him with a smile.

“Mr. Kent. I heard you wanted to see me.”

He cleared his throat, “Ah, Mrs. Kent. Yes I did.”

You locked the door and walked over to his desk. He stood from his chair and walked around from behind his desk. As soon as he got close enough, he wrapped his arms around you, softly rubbing your back. You laid your head against his chest, humming at the comfort and familiarity that was Clark’s muscular middle.

He pulled away, holding your hands in his. His brows furrowed with worry.

“Lois told me you got sick.”

“I did, but i’m okay now. Don’t worry about me, Clark.”

You gently stroked his cheek. He blushed at the gesture. Even though you and Clark have been together for many years, you’re still able to make him flustered.

“I think it’s just a little bug, that’s all.” You reassured him.

He nodded, “Okay. Hopefully you’ll feel better soon. I hate to see you sick.” He frowned, rubbing the top of your hand with his thumb.

He let go of your hands and pulled a chair over to the front of his desk for you to sit in. You smiled at him and sat down in the chair. He walked back over to his and sat down. Clark could sense that something seemed a bit off in the room. However, he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“So,” you breathed out, “any new interesting articles?”

Clark shook his head, picking up a folder, “Not really. Just this,” he read off the headline of an article, “Locals share their favorite activities to do in Metropolis.”

You laughed, “Oh wow, so interesting!”

Clark chuckled, “Very.”

You and Clark both smiled. You had an idea for an article pop into your head just then, so you decided to tell Clark about what you had in mind. As you were talking, your superhuman husband was too busy trying to figure out what was throwing the vibe in the room off. It wasn’t that it was bad, it was just different. He did, however, make sure to nod along and make little comments about what you seemed to be so enthused about. Clark tuned out your voice for just a bit so he could focus and use his super-hearing ability. He wanted to make sure there was nothing in the room that could harm you, or that there was nothing wrong with you.

Clark could hear the sound of people outside of his office talking, Chloe stapling papers, a man talking on the phone, and Lois smacking her bubble gum. He had to focus even harder to hear what was going on inside of his office only. He had tuned you out completely now, but you were too occupied to notice at the moment. Once Clark was focused enough, he could hear the sound of his clock ticking as each second passed, his printer clicking as it stayed on, and his favorite sound in the world, your heartbeat.

Your heartbeat sounded perfectly normal to him. Just as Clark was about to “turn off” his super-hearing and focus on you, another sound caught his attention. It was the same whooshing sound of your heartbeat, only faster and a bit quieter. He furrowed his brows in confusion. You must have noticed him.

“Clark, what’s wrong?”

He held his hand up, signaling for you to be quiet, “Just wait, Y/n/n.”

You cocked your head to the side, confusion and worry spreading across your face as Clark’s face contorted into a look of concentration. It was then that you realized he was using his super-hearing. For what exactly? You had no idea.

Clark heard your heartbeat first, then the second heartbeat like sound filled his ear. He focused for a bit, trying to figure out what in his office could mimic the sound of a human heartbeat. After listening to the sound for a few seconds, he soon realized the second heartbeat was coming from you. He shook himself out of his concentration, looking at his wife.

“What is it Clark?”

He shook his head, “I-I don’t know. It almost sounds like there’s another heartbeat in the room?”

You giggled, “Well, I mean, humans do have heartbeats so…”

“This was different. It was a lot faster, but quieter. It was also coming from you.”

“I don’t, I don’t understand?”

“Maybe it’s crazy, but I swear I heard two heartbeats coming from inside of you.” Clark said, sounding unsure of himself.

You’re face went pale as you felt your heart drop to your stomach. There was no way…Well, maybe there was. Okay, there definitely was a chance you could be pregnant.

You gulped, “Clark?”

He hummed.

“Can I see your calendar real quick?”

He nodded, taking the calendar off of his wall and handing it to you. Your eyes scanned over the dates on the calendar. You made a mental note each month when you were supposed to get your period, and sure enough, you were four days late. It all makes sense now. The nausea and vomiting, headaches, sore boobs, sensitive smell, late period, and a second heartbeat, weren’t symptoms of a bug, but a baby.

You were pregnant with Clark’s child. You felt tears well up in your eyes at the thought.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” Clark asked, standing up from his chair and kneeling in front of you.

You nodded, giving Clark a teary smile, “I am more than alright.”

“Then why are you crying, beautiful?”

You sniffled and grabbed his large hand, holding it in yours. You tried to say something to him, but no words would come out of your mouth. You gently placed his hand on your tummy. You put both of your hands over his hand, a smile on your face. You watched as a smile of realization grew on Clark’s face. He wanted to see for himself that you were indeed pregnant before saying anything. Clark used his x-ray vision and sure enough, there was a very tiny baby growing inside of you. Clark’s eyes grew watery as he grinned at you.

“We’re having a baby.”

You nodded vigorously, excitement and nerves flowing through your body. “Yes Clark. We’re having a baby.”

He stood from the ground, gently pulling you out of the chair you sat in. He pulled you into his embrace and squeezed you gently, so that he wouldn’t hurt you or the baby. Your grins never leaving your faces as you hugged each other. Clark pulled away, putting his forehead against yours.

“I love you, Y/n.” He kissed your forehead, “so much. Thank you for everything you have given me.He looked down at his hand, a smile on his face as he thought about the baby. You and Clark had talked about kids in the past, but you two didn’t think anything would happen since you’re biologically a human and he’s, well, he’s biologically an alien. But in your eyes, Clark Kent was a human.

You smiled, giving him a peck on the lips, “I love you too, Clark. I should be the one thanking you though. Without you I wouldn’t have this.” You held up your left hand, showing him your beautiful, diamond wedding ring. “And I certainly wouldn’t have,” you grabbed his hand, placing it on your still flat stomach, “this.”

Clark smiled warmly at you.

“This is wonderful, Y/n.”

“It is isn’t it? I never thought we’d have kids Clark.”

He shook his head, “Me neither, but I’m so glad we are. My mom will be so excited.”

You laughed, “Yes she will. You know who else will be excited?”

He hummed.

“Lois.” You smiled.

Clark rolled his eyes, chuckling, “Oh great, I cant wait to hear the amount of Smallville jokes that will come out of her mouth.”

You laughed, knowing Clark was right. Lois always had a sarcastic comment to make, especially when it came to Clark. You and Clark just stood there in each other’s arms until Clark kneeled down in front of you so he was eye level with your stomach. He placed his hands on either side of your hips, and looked up at you with a warm smile before directing his attention back to your baby.

“Hi baby Kent, it’s your daddy. I’m sure you can’t hear me yet, you’re still pretty tiny. But who knows? If you have some of my powers then maybe you can hear me. I just wanted to let you know that your mom and I are so excited, and we can’t wait to meet you. I love you.” He kissed your tummy softly before standing up from his kneeling position.

“And I love you.” he smiled, kissing your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back.

Yours and Clark’s life is going to change forever in about 8 months, but you both couldn’t wait to start this new chapter in your lives.

A/N: hi everyone!! just wanted to say thank you so much for all the love and support you’ve shown me on my imagines!! it is GREATLY appreciated<3 i’ll be posting some more clark kent (smallville of course) imagines in the near future, so stay tuned! i have so many ideas for him lol. also, as you have most likely realized, i’m not much of a multi-fandom writer anymore, so i apologize. smallville is my current obsession, plus, there is not enough smallville/tom wellings clark kent imagines on this app, so i thought i’d write some :) if you’re reading this, i hope you are doing well<3

[geekfanficwriter]

Caught Somewhere in Time- Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Part 16/?

Summary: You end up in the 80s, 20 years earlier than it should be luckily a certain metalhead is about to make your time in the 80s much easier. Words: 3.9k Warnings: angst, just very, very angsty

Part 15 Part 17

Masterlist

21st March 1986

 

You groan as your alarm goes off, reaching over and hitting the top of it to turn it off as Eddie wraps his arms around you tighter, his eyes half open.

‘Babe, we have to get up.’ You tell him, not making any effort to move yourself.

‘Do we?’ Eddie whines, a cheeky grin crossing his face.

‘Yes, it’s the last day of school before spring break and the finale of your DnD game.’ You try to bribe him with the prospect of DnD in hopes he’ll get up.

‘Yes, I know that but you what’s also happening today? A pep rally first period. Do you really want to go to that?’ His eyes are probably open now, looking down at you in a sweet way that makes his heart melt.

‘It doesn’t matter, we have to go.’ You tell him, trying to sit up but Eddie squeezes you preventing you from getting up.

‘Or we sleep in and go in second period instead? I mean do you really want to hear about school spirit? What a bunch of cheerleaders chant?’ 

‘I know you want to watch cheerleaders.’ You smirk at him.

‘Nope, the only person I want to see in a short skirt is you.’ He kisses you on the top of your head and you sighed. You really didn’t want to get out of bed. You were comfortable and warm, plus you liked being cuddled up with Eddie.

‘Fine, but we’re only staying in for another hour, then we have to get up.’ You threaten but you lean up to kiss him on the lips afterwards.

‘I promise, although maybe we don’t have to go back to sleep?’ Eddie says, flipping you over so you were on your back and he was hovering on top of you.

‘You are insatiable.’ You roll your eyes but Eddie smiles at you, with a cheeky grin. You lean up and press a kiss to his lips, placing your hands in his hair, loving the feeling of it under your fingers. You were excited about spring break tomorrow and getting to spend two full weeks just Eddie and you.

 

You had a migraine from hell. It had come on some time before lunch but now as you and Robin were walking to lunch it was complete agony. You could hardly see from the pain. Robin was talking to you but you weren’t listening to a word she was saying, your head too sore. 

‘Robin, I’m sorry but I can’t hear a word you’re saying. My head is killing me.’ You tell her, rubbing the sides of your head.

‘Oh sorry. I was just telling you that I’m tired of listening to Steve talk about his dates.’ She tells you and you nod along.

‘Who even is he dating currently?’ You laugh slightly then cringe, the feeling making the pain worse.

‘God knows. I don’t listen when he tells me.’ She laughs as she pushes the door to the cafeteria open. You look over at the Hellfire Table and let out a groan.

‘I do not have the energy for that boy today.’ You say looking at Eddie who’s stood on top of the table, giving some sort of speech.

‘I don’t know how you ever have the energy for that boy but good luck.’ Robin gives you a pat on the back, walking over to sit with her own friends while you head over to your own table, sitting down next to Gareth.

‘What’s he ranting about?’ You whisper over to Gareth as Eddie runs about.

‘Forced conformity.’ Gareth whispers back as Eddie plops down next to you. Dustin starts speaking up and suggests Eddie postpone the campaign as Lucas can’t make it. You let out a groan, knowing Eddie isn’t going to be happy with that. 

‘Eddie calm down.’ You mumble as he rants but he doesn’t seem to hear you, too focused on Mike and Dustin so instead you put your head on the table and place your hands over your head not paying attention. Blocking out the light from around you seems to help slightly with your headache but your head is still pounding.

‘Babe.’ Eddie says shaking your shoulder and you glance up at him. ‘You alright?’

‘No, I have a migraine from hell.’ You whine.

‘I can take you home if you want.’ You nod and Eddie stands up, grabbing your back alongside all his stuff and leading you out of the cafeteria. You head outside and over to his van, climbing inside and closing your eyes once you're sat comfortably in the passenger seat.

‘So you’ll never guess who came up to me this morning asking for drugs?’ Eddie speaks and you hum in response to let him know you’re listening. ‘Chrissy fucking Cunningham.’ He lets out and laughs and you open your eyes, glancing over at him.

‘Chrissy Cunningham? The school’s golden child? Are you sure she’s not just hitting on you?’ You snort out.

‘That’s funny, babe.’ He replies sarcastically.

‘Why wouldn’t she like you. You do have the nicest eyes in Hawkins.’ You smile over at him.

‘Second nicest. You take that prize. When you’re not squinting in pain of course.’ He reaches over and grips your leg, giving it a squeeze as you place your hand over the top of his. 

You drive the rest of the way in silence, and pretty soon Eddie’s van was parked out the front of your trailer.

‘Right, I’m going to go back but you take care of yourself and I’ll come by after Hellfire with some dinner. How does that sound?’ Eddie says, smiling over at you.

‘Yeah that sounds great but you stay safe too. Especially with Chrissy.’ You lean over and give him a kiss before climbing out of the car and heading into your trailer. You dump your back on the floor and head through to your room, stripping down to your underwear and top, not bothering to get dressed before you climb into bed, pretty quickly falling asleep.

 

22nd March 1986

 

You woke up to a loud knocking on your door. You blinked awake and rolled over looking at the alarm clock. You sat up, realising it was morning and frowned with confusion. Eddie was meant to come over in the evening to check in on you so where was he? The banging at your door came again and you slid out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the floor and slipping them on. You head to the door and open it to see Max standing there.

‘Max, what are you doing here?’ You asked with confusion until you looked behind her, seeing what looked like the entire Hawkins PD gathered around Eddie’s trailer as Wayne sat on a nearby bench, smoking a cigarette, looking stressed. You breathe out Eddie’s name and try to run over to his trailer but Max stops you.

‘Don’t. I saw Chrissy go into his trailer last night and I don’t know what happened but I think she’s dead.’ Your eyes widened, a million thoughts going through your head. Why was Chrissy at Eddie’s? Where was Eddie? Was he even alive? What if he was dead? 

‘Eddie wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.’ Max raised her eyebrows at you and you gave her a glare.

‘Look I don’t know what happened but it was weird all the lights started flickering and then I heard a scream and saw Eddie drive off but it felt like it could be…’ Max trailed off and your eyes widened.

‘It could be related to the Upside Down.’ You were freaked out. ‘We need to find Eddie, give me 10 minutes and I’ll be ready to go.’ You shut your trailer door and ran inside, quickly having a shower and pulling on some clothes. You threw your door open and Max was still standing outside. You gestured over to your car and you both climbed in. 

You drove around to find both Nancy and Lucas but neither of them was home so you headed over to Dustin who thankfully was home. Dustin was completely on your side and also believed that Eddie was innocent. You were incredibly relieved that Dustin agreed with you and once Max had explained what she saw all three of you left Dustin’s to go find Eddie.

‘We should go to Family Video, and see what Steve and Robin think.’ Dustin said and you nodded.

‘Yeah, plus we can use the phone’s there to call around, see if anyone has seen Eddie.’ You know the best course of action was to see if any of the other Corroded Coffin members had seen him. You made your way over to Hawkin’s Main Street, pulling up outside Family Video. All three of you jumped out of the car and you told the other two to go ahead and fill in Steve and Robin. Meanwhile, you head over to a nearby deli, you hadn’t eaten all of yesterday and you were starving. You quickly order a sandwich for yourself, and then think again, grabbing two more, one for yourself for dinner and one for Eddie once you found him.

You shoved the sandwiches into your bag and headed over to Family Video where the other’s all gathered around. 

‘Y/N, please tell me you know where Reefer Rick lives?’ Dustin yells slamming down the phone as you walk in.

‘Nope, never been there. Eddie wanted to keep me far away from him.’ You sighed, swinging over the counter and pulling your sandwich out of your bag, starting to eat it.

‘Great friends your boyfriend keeps.’ Steve replies sarcastically and you glare at him. You were not wanting to deal with Steve’s comments today.

‘Do we even have a last name?’ Dustin asks and you shrug.

‘Bet the cops know the last name.’ Steve mumbles and you turn to look at him.

‘What?’ You all turn to look at him.

‘I mean, listen, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he’s been busted at some point. Means he’s in the system.’ Steve shrugs and you look at him like he’s an idiot.

‘The cops? Really, Steve? What's your suggestion?’ Dustin replies looking at Steve the same way you were.

‘I think they should be filled in on what we know, what’s going on?’ At this point, you’re about ready to jump across the counter and hit Steve. How could he say that?

‘You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?’ 

‘I believe in innocent until proven guilty, all that constitutional shit. I just, you know, don’t think we can rule it out.’

‘Eddie wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t.’ You shook your head. 

‘You don’t know that, Y/N.’ 

‘No! I do. All you know about Eddie is the bullshit you’ve heard around town. I actually know him and he could never do that. He has a heart of gold and the idea of ever hurting anyone could never cross his mind. How dare you act like I don’t know the man I love? The man I’ve spent every day with for the last two years. If you ever imply that again, I’ll fucking kill you.’ You were yelling at this point, tears streaming down your face and you spoke.

‘Hey, Y/N. Calm down.’ Robin wrapped you in a hug and you cried in her arms for a moment. All you wanted was to know if Eddie was safe, to make sure he was okay.

‘Okay, maybe you can help us instead of upsetting people Steve?’ Dustin says as you tried to compose yourself.

‘Hey, someone has to attend to the customers?’ Steve asks.

‘Especially if they’re babes, right?’ Robin winks, making you laugh slightly.

‘Hey, not fair. Okay? I attend to all customers equally, babes and non-babes alike. We’ve got a very big section in here. It can be super overwhelming for people.’ Steve defends himself as if he wasn’t just always flirting with customers.

‘Yeah, it can be.’ Robin says her eyes lighting up as she scoots over to the computer.

‘Please tell me you’re having one of your genius ideas, Robin.’ You say as she types Rick into the computer. You look through all the Ricks until you figure out which one is most likely to be Reefer Rick.

Once you have the address you drive out to hopefully where Rick lives in Steve’s car. 

By the time you arrive, it’s dark outside and you all started to look around the outside of the house. You screamed Eddie’s name but got no response until Max pointed out that there was a boat house around the back. You all headed into the boathouse and started looking around, hoping that Eddie was there.

‘What are you doing?’ Dustin asked as Steve poked a tarp with an oar.

‘He might be in there.’ Steve says continuing to poke the tarp.

‘And your plan is what? Kill him with an oar?’ You asked sarcastically.

‘Look someone was here.’ Max says pointing out a bunch of fast food wrappers.

‘Maybe he heard us? Got spooked and ran?’ Robin suggested.

‘Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.’ Dustin replied sarcastically.

‘I know you think you’re being funny but considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight-‘ Steve is cut off by a form flying at him. You’re terrified at first until you realise it’s Eddie, holding a bottle to his throat.

‘Eddie!’ Dustin yells and Eddie glances over at him. ‘It’s me, Dustin.’

‘Eddie, babe.’ You say moving close to him with your hands outstretched. ‘That’s Steve? He’s my best friend, remember? He’s not going to hurt you.’ You talk calmly and quietly but the look of terror on Eddie’s face breaks your heart and you feel tears welling in your eyes.

‘Steve, drop the oar.’ You tell him and he does. 

‘What are you doing here?’ Eddie says cautiously.

‘We’re here to help you. Come on, you know Dustin and Robin’s one of my closest friends and Max is our neighbour.’ You still manage to keep the calm tone in your voice even though you’re just about to completely break down.

‘Eddie, we’re on your side.’ Dustin adds on. ‘I swear of my mother.’ Eddie looks between you all for a moment before letting go of Steve and moving towards you wrapping his arms around you tightly.

‘Thank god, you’re safe.’ You mumble as you hug him back, tighter than you’ve ever hugged him before. You start crying as you hug him, the true fear of the last day catching up with you.

‘I was so worried about you.’ Eddie mumbled. ‘I wanted to come back for you but I was so scared.’ Eddie pulled away slightly and you realised he was also crying. You leaned up and wiped his tears away, comforting him as you did. 

‘Eddie, we want to know what happened.’ Dustin asked carefully, trying not to interrupt but needing to know.

‘You won’t believe me.’ Eddie shakes his head. It’s only at that moment that you realise Eddie is still gripping the broken bottle, his hand shaking with fear. You reach down and wrap your hand around his, running your thumb over the back, trying to calm him down.

‘Try us.’ Dustin says and Eddie looks between you all before nodding. He moves over to sit down, not letting go of you. You sit down with him as he curls up against you. You comfort him as he tries to figure out what to say.

‘Her body just, like, lifted up into the air and, she just like, hung there, in the air and her bones started to snap and her eyes, man. It was like there was something, like, inside her head, pulling. I didn’t know what to do so I ran away. I left her there.’ Eddie explained a look that was a mix of fear and guilt on his face. ‘You all think I’m crazy, right?’

‘No. We don’t think you’re crazy.’ Dustin tells him as you stroke Eddie’s hair.

‘Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds.’ Eddie yells making you stop the motion of your hand for a moment.

‘We believe you. Look what I’m about to tell you might be a little… difficult to take. You know how people say Hawkins is cursed? They’re not way off. There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins and sometimes it bleeds into ours.’ Dustin explains to Eddie who now looks much more confused than before.

‘Like ghosts and shit?’ Eddie asks, trying to understand what he was saying.

‘There are some things worse than ghosts.’ Dustin says before asking Eddie some questions about what he saw. Eddie explains that she seemed to be in some sort of trance and Dustin seems to have some sort of realisation. He explains that he thinks it may be Vecna doing this and you blinked. Of course, you knew who Vecna was, even if you hadn’t played Eddie’s most recent campaign you’d be there during the organisation and planning of every session. You knew everything there was to know about Vecna, at least the fictional version. After you had all agreed that this was clearly something to do with the Upside Down, the other’s all promised to come back tomorrow to give Eddie some food and started to make their way out.

‘I’ll see you, tomorrow, babe.’ Eddie tells you, letting go of you. You shake your head and frown at him.

‘I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here with you.’ You tell him. There was no way you were leaving him, plus you realised that you now had to tell him the truth whether you wanted to or not. Eddie looked like he was considering protesting for a moment but instead didn’t, seeing the look of determination in your eyes and to be honest he didn’t want to be away from you either.

Once all the others went away, you and Eddie sat in silence. You didn’t want to offload on Eddie currently, especially while he was clearly still processing everything. You get up and head over to your back, grabbing the sandwich you had bought and handing it to Eddie who thanks you.

‘How do you know about all this?’ Eddie eventually asked and you let out a deep breath, realising it was now time to tell him everything.

‘Because I’ve thought monsters from this other place, the Upside Down, before.’ You admit looking down, not wanting to see his face as he realised you’d been keeping something from him.

‘When? Why didn’t you tell me?’ Eddie asks, there seems to be more concern in his voice than anger which relaxes you slightly.

‘Once the day I arrived in Hawkins, once in October two years ago during that argument we had and once last summer when I was gone for a few days. I wanted to tell you, I did but I knew you’d want to get involved and try and protect me and I couldn’t let that happen because if something happened to you, I don’t know what I do.’ 

‘You don’t think I feel that way? You don’t think it was terrifying to me for you to go missing and now I found out you could’ve died? Been killed by these monsters?’ Eddie yelled and you felt incredibly guilty. Of course, you’d considered that this would be terrifying for him. That’s why you’d kept it secret.

‘I know but I’m one of the only people who can actually fight them.’

‘And why’s that? You’re just a normal eighteen-year-old, you’re not made to fight monsters.’ Eddie argued and you gulped, realising it was now time to tell him everything.

‘Eddie, I haven’t been completely honest with you.’

‘Well, obviously I figured that out.’ You could hear the anger in his voice and you couldn’t look at him.

‘Eddie, when I was 14, I wasn’t sent to a behaviour camp. I was kidnapped and taken to a facility where they ran experiments on people with powers. People like me.’ You finally muster the courage to glance at Eddie who looks completely baffled at what you’ve just told him.

‘What do you mean powers?’ 

‘Exactly what you think. I have powers. I can control fire, earth, air and water… and I can also time travel.’ You make a flame appear above your hand to prove to Eddie that you weren’t lying, you were telling the truth.

‘Why were you so hesitant to tell me you can time travel?’ Eddie asks picking up on your tone.

‘That’s the final thing, I need to tell you.’ You think for a moment trying to figure out how to word your final confession. ‘Eddie, I was born in 1987, when I was kidnapped it was 2001 and I managed to somehow travel back to 1982.’ 

‘So nothing you’ve told me about yourself is true? Everything is a lie.’ Eddie spits at you.

‘No, everything else I’ve told you is true. I promise, all the stuff about my family, my past, it’s all true.’

‘Why would I believe that? I don’t know who you are.’ 

‘You do. I’m still me.’ You beg him, tears running down your face now. You knew this was going to happen which is why you kept it secret. Even if you shouldn’t have. Even if it was all your fault that Eddie was mad at you.

‘No, I don’t. The girl I knew understood what it was like to be abandoned by her parents. She was someone who I could relate to and was the same as me. Now I learn that’s all bullshit.’ You don’t know what to say. He was completely right. You had pretended to understand his past when you couldn’t. You knew that your parents were probably terrified when you went missing and would spend every moment searching for you. You shouldn’t have lied but how do you explain the truth to someone when the truth was so unbelievable.

‘Get out, Y/N. Leave me alone. Or better yet, fuck off back to 2001 or whatever year you said you’re from.’ There was venom dripping off Eddie’s every word. You had never seen him this angry, never. It broke your heart to see him in so much pain and it hurt, even more, knowing you’re the one who caused it.

‘I made a promise I would never abandon you and I know my word doesn’t mean shit but I plan on keeping that promise. But I’ll give you some time alone right now.’ You try to keep your voice even but it does break as you speak. You open up the door to the boat house, heading outside into the cool summer air. You walk over to the back door of Rick’s house and try to open it but see it’s locked. You stretch out your hand and slowly push the air around the door towards the lock, creating pressure until you hear a loud crack and the door swings open. You head inside the house, and sitting down on the couch, finally starting to sob as you do.

—————

Taglist: @michaelfuckinglangdon @taygra5shaon @eddiemunson4ever @little-diva-gurl @oxbunnehxo @fentyreligion @bellegirl16 @smol-book-nerd @pbeckn26 @luvfrlslou @maicclg @ruinedbythehobbit​  @lillyof-thevalley @yourdailymemedelivery

[st4rbwrry]

If I were to date you:

you’d be hugged constantly, your ass would be in my palm all the time and i’d tell you because it’s where it belongs

i’d run my fingers along the small of your back just because, when you’re cooking, when you’re busy with chores, shit like that. i’d always be touching you in some way, gently, hard when i need to, comforting and loving, encouraging

i’d kiss you everywhere, knuckles, wrists, neck, back, cheek, nose, forehead, your pretty feet when they’re sore or your thighs when you feel like they’re less than perfect

i’d play with your hair when we’re chilling, help you with braids, taking them out, doing them

you’d get booty rubs till you fall asleep

i’d bite you just for the fun of it

i’d smack your ass and poke my tongue at you when you gimme that stank face of yours

when you try to hit me back i’d grab you and hold you in a the tightest mf hug and shower you with kisses because you can’t ever escape me

i’d make you a playlist on my phone of all the songs you like to belt out in the car, when you’re cleaning, etc.

i’d help you put lotion on, when you just can’t reach those hard to reach places

i’d go shopping with you and be your personal assistant when you need a second opinion

you could put your skin care shit on me and i’d complain and joke the whole time just to see you smile

bubble baths would be drawn for the both of us, or even just you when you need some alone time.

i’d pout and beg you to shower with me, because saving water is important and I love holding you under the water. plus how else are we supposed to fulfil the shower sex quota for the week?

i’d lay you on your lap and while we watch your favourite show and you can play with my hair

have you hauled up in my lap to watch my favourite movie, reciting all of the lines because you find it corny

i’d hold your hand when you’re scared or in pain. Period cramps, get you everything you need, even though i might not know what that is yet.

i’d tell you it’s okay even when it doesn’t feel that way, hold you close or lay beside you trying to gently rub the pain away while waiting for the pain killers to kick in or the heat pack to do its magic

make your favourite food from scratch because i know, just from the way you cook how much you love a home cooked meal

remember your favourite orders/‘usuals’

i’d know you: your body, your mind, your soul

i’d thank god and the universe everyday because i have you in my life

i’d deal with your little outbursts as irrational as they may be sometimes

probably start with sitting you down, whether that me on my lap on on the bed

then we’d try and get to the root of the problem, stress, shitty people at work, Saturn 😑, me, etc.

and i’d say sorry, for everything even if it’s not my fault. “Sorry they take you for granted, mamas. That they think they can use you as they please.” and like i said i’d be there to listen, and if you need advice, i gotchu

then i’d kiss you, soft, apologetic, progressively deeper and deeper till i get you on your back

i’d let a hand wander across your skin, soft and hot against my fingertips

i’d undress you slowly, mumbling sweet nothings as i kiss the unveiled skin of your collarbones, your chest, your stomach, your hips and i’d stop at your thighs just to take you in.

“Fuck, look at you, pretty, all mine. All this just for me.”

then proceeding to take your panties off I’d start from your feet, then move to your ankles smelling the perfume you’d sprayed there for me. Your calves, your thighs, and again i’d stop, so you can feel my breath against you. So i can watch the way your hips struggle to stay still when i’m this close to your pussy.

and when you whine for me, just that little bit I’d run my tongue flat, pausing to suck on your clit, enjoying the way your back arches off the bed and your fingers lace through my hair

i’d moan when you start rocking your hips against my face, my tongue, my lips. My hands moulded to the softness of your thighs, keeping them open when you so desperately want them closed

my tongue would dip inside you, nose brushing your clit as your taste sends sparks straight to my dick

my tongue is replaced with a ringed middle finger, one that entires you slowly but easily because your arousal has already stained the sheets underneath you

then when you’re ready i’ll add another one, the pads nudging ever so nicely at your g-spot that makes your stomach tighten, makes you bite your lip, cry my name and tell me you’re about to cum

and silently i’d encourage you, keeping a steady pace, eyes never leaving your face, so pretty when it’s twisted in pleasure

then when you do come it’s a sight i’d watch over and over again. i let your thighs wrap around my head, revelling in the way your whole body squeezes around me

my tongue would work you through it all, leisurely lapping at your sensitive clit till you whine at me to stop

and with a final kiss to your pussy i’d oblige and come up to kiss you, let you taste yourself on my lips, taste just how fucking delicious you are

then i’d ask if you feel any better. And if it’s a yes, i’d drag you to the shower or the bath (lady’s choice) and we can wash away the bullshit of the day while i hold you

while i run my thumb along your cheek and kiss your lips. have your ass in my hand and say nothing and everything all at once as i look into your eyes

and in that moment i’d tell you. “I love you, baby.”

Sorry that it’s so long but that you for coming to my Ted talk 😁🤍

this man done gave me 43 reasons as to why he’s my husband and i swear on everything i just fell in love all over again. LIKE IM GOING ABSOLUTELY FUCKING CRAZY FOR HIM AND FOR THIS LIKE HE TREATS ME SO WELL IM AXTUALLY IN TEARS SNSNDNDNDND. THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANT IN A MANNNNNNNNNNNN. EREN FUCKING YEAGER BITCH WELSKKSNSDND WEHWWWHRE WHEWWWWWWW OMG. like why would you SAY THIS TO ME ??? LIKE WHAT ARE YOU DOING

[rayofsunas]

s/o has bad cramps. 

A/n: hi everyone! I hope your day is going smoothly today <33 zhongli’s is short, because idk how to write for dude, sorry lmao :0 to the anon who requested this thank you and enjoy!!

Summary: s/o has bad period cramps.

Parings: Diluc/Fem! Reader, Xiao/Fem! Reader, Zhongli/Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff, periods 

Word count: 1.1k

Diluc

you returned home in tears one day and he really thought you were dying

he thought you’d gotten so badly hurt, you were on the brink of death

especially when he sees you holding your stomach, hunched over

“love what’s wrong? are you alright?

he doesn’t know what to do tbh

honestly, he’s clueless

even more so if you’ve run out of herbs to soothe the pain 

Diluc will have to ask around Mondstadt about what the best remedies for cramps are and where he could find some

let's just say it’s embarrassing for him, but all the women he’s asked (Lisa, Amber, even Jean) think it’s absolutely adorable

he cares so much and he truly wants to help you, it’s so sweet!

Lisa was the most helpful; giving Diluc names of a few different bath salts and a herb that helped ease the pain 

Amber had given the same information as Lisa, though saying that the bath salts were your best bet

Jean was NO help, she explained she typically powered through the cramps if she had any

what a LEGEND ughh 

let's be honest, Kaeya knows everything, so it wasn’t a surprise when he showed up at your place, with the herbs you needed

but Diluc was still confused as hell

one, how did he know you needed the herbs?!

and two, somehow Kaeya knows more about it than he does and he’s like !?!?!? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!

“Women on their periods are like demons. She’ll wanna rip your head off and jump you at the same time.”

HOW DOES HE KNOW THIS INFO

that’s all Diluc wants to know, HOWWW

when Diluc returns home with all the stuff, he’s more than happy to help run a nice bath for you and add the bath salts, give you the herbs with a nice cup of hot tea, and help you get settled in bed

tbh, he doesn’t mind if you complain or whine about the pain, it’s just another thing he can’t judge you for

it’s natural and uncontrollable

the best thing he can do, is be there for you and help you no matter what

Xiao

if your cramps are period related, sorry but Xiao is lost af :0 

he’s used to the usual muscle aches and cramps from strain in battle, etc. he’s not human, but he can still feel some variants of pain 

considering you’re his first lover, he has no experience with periods and the unfortunate pain that can come with it

the two female Yaksha he once worked beside never had this issue so he’s even more out of the loop

when he sees you crying about the cramps, at first he’s blunt and a little rude

“why are you crying? are humans seriously this weak...”

trust me he means well, it just came out all wrong

but then he thinks about it again and how harsh he sounded

he knows you wouldn’t cry about nothing, so this is pretty bad

the very first time he experienced your period was when you had asked for a change of pants and underwear

he blushed the tiniest bit when he realized he’d have to go into your underwear drawer and grab you a pair 

he’s much more comfortable now, but back then? you had only been together for a little over four months and you were both taking things slow

he’d never seen your underwear or had been intimate yet, so he was shook af

though, Xiao didn’t think much of it and kindly did as you asked 

but when he stepped into the bathroom and spotted the bloody pants and underwear on the floor?

sheesh, he can only think of one thing

“are you dying?”

he really thinks you’re dying also, like WTAF Y/N WHY IS THERE BLOOD ON YOUR CLOTHES?!?!?!

but nah, you just had a little accident ;-;

“no, not literally. but figuratively, yes.”

poor boy, he’s seen so much blood in his lifetime... his own, his friends, strangers, but it hits different when it’s from you

“what’s going on then?”

“i’m on my period.”

“period?”

“yes. do you know what that is?”

“something I figure only mortals go through.”

“yes, unfortunately, only women...”

“how come I never knew this...”

“it never came up?”

despite being clueless, he learns very quickly over time, that you’re “delicate and fragile” most during your period

he figures basic herbs and pain medicines can do the job, but if they fail?

he’s there to rub any sore spot

naturally he doesn’t have much to say, so he’ll comfort you physically

he’ll ask, “where does it hurt?” and get straight to work as soon as you respond

backrubs? you got it

tummy rubs? he’ll help you, just find a comfortable spot in bed

personally I believe physical affection may be Xiao’s preferred love language; so he definitely gives the BEST tummy/back rubs :)

Zhongli

“are you alright, dear?” 

Zhongli noticed it immediately

that you were holding your lower back as if you’d strained yourself in battle or something strenuous

“yeah, just cramps.”

he’s been around for a LONGGGG time and he knows humans well, so he’s no stranger to periods

he KNOWS exactly what to do

and he’s on it as soon as he hears the words “period cramps”

he knows all the best remedies, maybe even some you’ve never even heard of from “ancient times” as you liked to call it

“are you sure this still works?” you ask seriously, though there’s a hint of teasing behind your words

“humans have evolved a lot.”

“not that much, darling.”

don’t worry, you’re in the best care with Zhongli

he may be broke af, but he somehow always manages to get you the best of the best :)

he’ll do anything you ask, get you anything you want, no matter what

Zhongli will get all the best stews and sweet treats he can possibly find in Liyue, trust me

he may coddle you a bit too much, tbh

if you need to go somewhere, he figures he may as well carry you

excellent piggyback rides btw

like, you’re already in enough pain, don’t put pressure anywhere else

that’s how he sees it

plus, he just naturally wants to take care of you

he does mean well, even if he smothers a bit too much

period cramps hurt a lot, he’s never experienced them obviously, but he can only imagine how bad they are

at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s going to dote over you most

he knows exactly what to do and has basic knowledge on where to get the things to help you feel better

you’ll be in the best hands ever, trust me

2.19.21, rayofsunas

[sangyeonsofthours]

ʚ pregnancy series | finding out about the pregnancy pt. 1

pairing: idol lee sangyeon x female reader summary: Sangyeon couldn't think of a better person to experience this with. And you're just so happy to be with him and to finally be a parent beside him. It’s going to be amazing! words: 0.7k warnings: morning sickness, mentions of periods... a/n: first of all, i'm so sorry i went missing for an entire week! this one was hard to write, i couldn't make up my mind about how some things would go, so i hope it’s acceptable and you guys will like it! plus... there’s going to be a part 2 to it! also, thank you for the attention to the first part of this series ♡  

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The soft pitpat of your feet was the only sound heard on the house as you dragged your body towards the tiled kitchen. The clock on the microwave display showed that it was only 7h10 in the morning. You try not to get too annoyed at the fact you just woke up this early on a saturday.

A slight headache seems to be already forming from the front of your forehead, making you a bit nauseous. You try to rub away the sleepiness from your half open half closed eyelids, pushing away the sick feeling. An involuntary yawn passes through your lips as you stretch your back and you can’t help but cuss at the back pain that suddenly hits your lower back. It has been bothering you for a few days now. You whine again at the thought.

Outside the sun is shining and the birds are beautifully singing but you just feel like drinking some coffee and maybe going back to bed where your husband was still safe in his sweet dreamland. This thought makes the pain a little less unbearable. Maybe a lazy day tangled up in the sheet with him would help you to feel better.

As the machine loudly brews your coffee, you wait leaning on the counter top softly humming to yourself, almost lullabying yourself to a nap standing right on your feet.

“Hey, early bird” Sangyeon's voice comes out of nowhere in a low mumble. It’s so peaceful and calm that if not, it could have startled you.

You barely acknowledge his presence, only humming at him when he gets closer to nuzzle his nose on your exposed shoulder, hugging you from behind. He’s emanating warmth and his fingers are like anesthetics to your body, when they brush some of your hair out from your neck to give it a soft peck.

You can’t help but moan at the familiar feeling of safety and relief he's giving you. Sangyeon, on the other hand, gets genuinely confused at your apatheticness.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asks, gently turning you around to check up on you.

A frown appears on his handsome face when he notices that you're paler than usual. Questions buzz on his mind, as he can’t tell if you’re just really sleepy or maybe you’re sleep deprived. Are you ill? Is something bothering you?

“Yes. No. I mean- It’s just a back pain and some nausea.” You just mumble, too tired to elaborate. “But I’m okay” you’re quick to say, not wanting to bother him.

Knowing you too well, your lover opts to just keep quiet and embrace you in a hug, letting his hands wander down your back. Smoothly, his fingers lift your shirt up to caress your skin in circling motions. Again, you whine at the feeling of his expert fingers massaging against the sensitive skin of your lower back.

Behind you both, the coffee machine makes a sound, signaling that your morning drink is done, but you don’t move, letting Sangyeon have his way with you, enjoying his care and affection.

“Did you hurt yourself doing anything, sweetheart?” he asks while preparing some kisses to your forehead, doing his best to make you feel a little better.

“No, it’s not a sore feeling, it’s just pain. I don’t know where it comes from.” you whimper, hugging him to yourself. At your answer, Sangyeon murmurs to himself, seeming to be pondering over something.

“So… Just to clear some thoughts…” he starts, cleaning his throat, seeming a bit shy about the idea that is hammering on his mind, “are you on your period or something?”

You stifle a giggle at the way your husband is still so ashamed to talk to you about something so simple as periods.

Well, you’re ready to shoot him a teasing remark when it hits you. You only look up at Sangyeon and the sudden disbelief on your face is enough to make him go weak on his knees.

“It- I think it- it is late, Yeon” you bable out, letting your arms fleet from the grasp they hold against his body seconds before. At this information, the man in front of you bolts away over to the refrigerator, where your little calendar was attached to.

He quietly scans over the marked dates, staring at the piece of paper, trying not to show how much his hands were shaking.

You wouldn't blame him for being in complete jittery. The sudden suspicion made you just as nervous.

“Babe, it seems you were supposed to get it 10 days ago.” He said with a deep tone to his voice.

-

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