#pool coupon for this week

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[polydamnory]

Poly D.A.M.N. Crew Headcanons (because I’m legally required to)

Once again, some of these could also apply outside the context of them being in a polycule and that works too lol

Freelancer will paint any of the others nails if they’ll let them (Hux and Gavin let them do it the most) 

Dear and Gavin made it a weekly thing to have lunch together on campus 

In the event that they were to all live together, Damien is usually the one in charge of  grocery shopping - mainly because of all of them, he’s the most particular about what brands they use for certain products/foods. Also you can’t tell me this man isn’t a master at budgeting/couponing. 

Damien and Huxley aren’t allowed to team up when they do chicken fights in the pool anymore - they’re both arguably some of the strongest of the group (they’re constantly working out after all) and after winning literally every time except against Gavin, the rest of them declared the rule that they have to team up with the others to make it fair. Hux just rolled with it but Damien still acts all cocky about it whenever it gets brought up. 

They try to do a movie night every two weeks and cycle through who gets to pick what they watch each time. Lasko made a chart to track it and everything. Lasko has also tried and succeeded only once in getting everyone to agree to a full on Lord of the Rings extended edition marathon despite trying again several times afterwards. Dear has been the only one to agree to do it again afterwards - not that the rest don’t like the movies, they just don’t think they’ll be willing to marathon them like that again. 

Gavin and Freelancer are the resident “distractors” and get kicked out of the kitchen fairly frequently because half the time they’re helping cook they end up “doing things” with the other person in there 👀

Huxley likes playing with the others hair if they’ve given the okay for it - he already knew how to braid and the like, but at some point he began learning how to do more complicated hairstyles and likes doing them for his partners 

Dear and Damien end up having to team up and ensure everyone else is wearing sunblock - Damien does not listen to Gavin when he says that as a demon he doesn’t need it, he has to put some on 

When struggling to find someone or something out in public, especially in large crowd, Huxley has gotten into the habit of just kind of grabbing one of his partners and putting them on his shoulder so they can get a higher vantage point 

Huxley came up with the idea that they should all show Gavin stuff they enjoyed from growing up, whether that be shows, movies, or going places typically meant for youths, because “just because you didn’t actually have a childhood doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to experience one.” They took him to a bouncy castle park and got a good laugh at how uncharacteristically ungraceful he was. 

They all had to basically flee an ice skating rink when they all tried to go together. Gavin wouldn’t stop teasing/flustering Damien and he accidentally melted a portion of the rink. It was an unempowered run rink so the chance of them getting caught/blamed wasn’t too high but they all still ended up fleeing like their lives depended on it. 

They are all constantly stealing Huxley’s clothes to wear. It’d bother him if he didn’t think it was really hot to see them in it.

They've been trying to branch out in the types of games they play together and one genre they’ve been experimenting with is survival games. They’ve tried a few but the one they all seem to like the most is Raft and it gets chaotic. It’s not a strict rule or anything but they’ve also all sort of fell into their own unspoken roles for it: Huxley is always the go to for gathering supplies on islands, Damien’s typically either doing home defense or off trying to kill one of the hostile mobs (the poison-puffer always drives him crazy), Dear’s gathering the underwater supplies because obviously, Freelancer is in charge of gardening and cooking the food, Lasko’s on a hundred different websites and wikis making sure they don’t miss anything/actually know what they’re doing as well as navigation, and while Gavin spends most of his time pretty evenly helping everybody else out, he most often is gathering the supplies from the water, or, on occasion, fishing. (Sorry not sorry that this one only really makes sense to those who also play Raft/watch others play it lol)

[chikaras-garden]

Mean Streak (reader's version)

Osamu is the world’s most perfect boyfriend: Sweet, doting, protective. He’d give you the world—but what happens when you ask him to be mean to you?

Pairing: dom!Osamu x sub!fem!reader

Words: 4.6k

Contains: soft! to mean!dom!Osamu, brat!reader, light breathplay, dumbification, dacryphilia, praise kink, degradation, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, piv sex, ruined orgasm, desk sex, chair sex, roughness, spanking, mention of a safeword, little hint of size difference, O calls R “baby girl,” “baby,” “little girl,” “dumb girl,” “good girl,” yes this was a wild ride

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked, Yachi’s version on ao3. Couldn’t decide if I wanted this to be x Yachi or x reader, so…I did both.

You’re pretty sure your boyfriend has a mean streak. He is Miya Atsumu’s twin brother, after all. They’re cut from the same cloth, mixed from the same pool of genes, but his temper is slower to rise than his brother’s. Even when he’s mad, he has a level of self-control unlike anyone else’s.

Instead of yelling at the toro supplier that’s actively trying to screw him over, he chokes down his words under a frustrated, throaty growl.

Instead of snapping at the customer trying to claim her food isn’t fresh, he smiles and offers a coupon while slicing a cucumber with so much force that the veins in his arm bulge.

Instead of putting Atsumu in his place before he starts getting annoying, your boyfriend just waits for his twin to make a fool of himself before calling him a few names that cut him straight to the core.

But, when you try to get him to be mean to you, all he does is raise his brow at you and pull you closer to his chest.

It’s hardly fair.

“You can have all the attention you want,” he chuckles every time you ask. Tucked in his lap, pressed up against his chest, the kindness in his words brings a pout to your lips. “I’ll spoil you until you cry—but baby, I can’t be mean to you.”

An idea forms while you’re waiting for Osamu to lock up the onigiri shop. Bored after finishing your last college class of the day, you’re just twiddling your thumbs while Osamu counts cash in his office. 

The first thing he did when you emerged through the shop door was vent about his day. First, there were more customers than he planned for, each one more impatient than the last that their onigiri had to be made fresh instead of grab-and-go. Then, one of the cashiers forgot that they had a dentist appointment and had to leave in the middle of the lunch rush. And, topping it all off, it’s Friday, which means that he has to close out the week’s worth of cash, and he keeps coming up with a different total every time he counts the bills.

Osamu is stressed. You would like to help him fix that.

You perch on his desk chair—stolen from in front of his computer—in the middle of the kitchen. It gives you a perfect view of Osamu, standing in front of his desk, framed by the bright white molding surrounding the back office door. But also, it means that he’s far away—at least, far enough that he’s not in arm’s reach, and that just won’t do.

Normally, you’d get up and drag the chair into his office to lean against him, or even give yourself a power nap snuggled up in the corner, under the ultra-coze industrial heat vent. But this time, you have a plan.

“Osamu,” you call, “aren’t you done yet?”

He sighs. It’s not at you (he would never), but at the fact that he just got pulled out of counting again. He drops the bills on the desk, sighs a second time, and picks them back up to start over. “I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

A small part of you feels bad for provoking him, but you’re so curious, so needy for a side of Osamu that you never get to see—that you keep up the pressure. You whine, draping your arms on the prep table in front of you and pressing your cheek against your bicep. This time, Osamu slams the bills down, all but crushing the stack of paper under his hand. 

You imagine white-hot stings that turn to red marks, then pretty purple bruises. You think the sound of skin on skin would be much nicer than skin on paper, and the idea makes heat crawl up the back of your neck.

“For the love of,” your boyfriend says, starting to sound perturbed. “Baby, what?”

Honestly, how well this is going comes as a surprise. All you have to do is sniff, turn your nose up at Osamu’s baffled face, and give him your best pout, jutting your lip out so he can see the glimmer of saliva atop kissable skin.

You imagine him grabbing you by the back of your neck, forcing your lips open, and shoving his cock into your mouth to wipe the pout off your face. It’s a good thing the shop is chilly: you don’t have to hide the shiver that electrifies your core.

Then, you see him raise an eyebrow.

He holds up an arm, palm facing the ceiling, fingers outstretched. He’s so muscular, so invitingly warm in a dark blue t-shirt. It’s a soft one; it’s one of your favorites because of the color, the way it feels against your cheek, and the way it skims his arms.

Arms that can carry several restaurant-size bags of rice.

Arms that you wish were carrying you right now.

“C’mere.” His voice is like sugar. The sound of him beckoning you makes your face run hot, and you feel yourself almost giving in right then and there. He speaks gently, without judgment; like he understands you completely, like your acting up is a symptom, not a cause. 

You don't expect punishment when he talks to you like this. So, you swallow, remembering what you set out to do. You fidget, knees knocking together, and find stability in gripping the cool metal of Onigiri Miya’s prep counter. 

“No.”

Osamu looks at you like you just slapped him. His arm drops to his side while he, slack-jawed, tilts his head. “What did you just say?”

It’s a chance to change your mind, to whine and fall into your boyfriend’s loving arms so he can caress your cheeks and fuck the bad mood out of you. You could choose to let him spoil you with the attention you crave until you’re teary-eyed and babbling, giggling with the joy of having your needs answered with a loving touch.

But then, you see the tightness in Osamu’s jaw. Your legs feel hot.

“I said no,” you huff.

Osamu stares at you for a beat, studying you while the air in between you thickens, growing warm and sticky with tension. You try to hold still and steady so he doesn’t come to the conclusion that you don't really want this.

“Come over here and let me look at you.” 

You sit still for a second too long, because he adds, “Now, baby.”

As soon as you’re within arm’s reach, he seizes you by the waist and yanks you into him. You stumble forward, crashing into his chest with a soft thump. With his free hand, he grabs your chin, balancing your face between his thumb and forefinger to force you to look at him. He licks his lips while he observes you, and you wriggles because he’s so close, his skin is so warm, you want his tongue on you—

He squeezes your hip hard enough to make you whine. “Stop.”

Osamu backs you up until your thighs brush against his desk. He nudges you, lowering his palm until he gets a stable grip to lift you onto its surface, now with stacks of bills tucked hastily back into the cash register drawer. “Are you going to tell me why you’re being such a brat?”

He strokes a thumb across your lower lip. Spurred on by your own tingling desire, you open your mouth to invite his finger in. When he presses his thumb down on your tongue, making you drool and whine against his finger, he sighs; it’s shuddering, a messy blend of disappointment, relief, and lust. 

“Was this all you wanted, baby girl? My attention?” His soft tone draws you in. Your head tips forward until he catches you with his other hand, now stroking your cheek. He’s chuckling, now, and uses his hold on your mouth to make your nod. It’s a sign, symbolic of the fact that he always knows what you want, even if you don’t. 

You whine around his thumb, and he instantly shushes you. Gently, so gently, too gently, he cradles your head and guides you to rest against his shoulder. His muscles betray him; though his voice and the touches he’s controlling are soft, the subconscious tension in his arms is tight like a loaded spring.

Releasing his thumb, you mumble, “Want you to be mean.”

He coos, tutting at you as if you’re a toddler demanding a unicorn for your birthday. “You know I can’t do that. Besides, I don’t think that’s what you actually want.”

You blink up at him, eyes already glassy. You see the face of a man in love and drunk on it; he smiles sweetly, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, but there’s something else. A flash of cruelty in his eyes, a tension in his neck.

“‘Mean’ means that I leave you like this,” he continues, nonchalant. “‘Mean’ means that I take you back to your dorm for you to take care of this all by yourself.”

He gives your cheek a squeeze, then slides his thumb right back into your mouth, hooking it inside your cheek. “You don’t want that, do you, baby?”

You were going to shake your head anyway, but he tilts his wrist to do it for you. Again, he chuckles, and your chest fills with warmth at the velvet sound of your boyfriend sounding so pleased. With every word, you feel fuzzier and softer, pliant to anything he says you want.

Then, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, leaving a pout behind. He stoops a little, crouching closer to your eye level. “I’m gonna give you what you actually want, okay? Need a real answer out of you, with words.”

Fuzzy as you may feel, you’re still (reasonably) coherent. You want Osamu, want whatever he has in mind, want to feel the results of your behavior as deeply as he’ll give. You’re teetering on the edge of your (and his) favorite headspace, a few perfect touches away from being blissed out and subby, all for him.

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Okay, who?”

“Okay, sir.”

“And your safeword?”

“Onigiri.”

“That’s right,” he coos. “That’s my girl.”

Osamu looks like a man wrestling with himself. He strokes your hips with gentle hands, sliding his fingers up under your shirt. But his arms, big and broad, strain. You can count the veins bulging under his skin, see how tight his muscles are, and oh, what you would give to be wrapped up in those arms for the rest of your life.

“Hey,” he interrupts. You look up and see the eyes of a worried lover. “I’ll never hurt you in ways you don’t like. Tell me as soon as anything’s too much, and I’ll go softer, understand?”

You nod.

“Yes or no, baby girl?”

“Yes, sir,” you insist. You lean forward slightly, entranced by the stern look on his face. He is the picture of control, looking at you in a way that conveys the internal calculations going on in his head. You think you’d like to help him let go of that, do what feels right instead of what he thinks is right.

You reach for the collar of his shirt, entwining your fingers in the soft fabric and tugging. “Please fuck me, sir.”

A low sound, thick with want, vibrates out of his throat. Those words went right to his cock, intensifying the growing bulge between his legs. You’re certain it’s making it harder and harder (pun intended) for him to concentrate; good, you think.

“Sit tight for a second.” He pats your hips and presses a kiss to your forehead. The gesture lasts one, two, three seconds, during which you can’t breathe. When he steps away, he’s biting his lip, hiding a grin—and then he winks.

You do not hide your grin from him. Instead, you let the flutter in your stomach inspire your feet to swing from your perch on Osamu’s desk.

After just a few seconds, he’s in front of you again, this time with the desk chair. He doesn’t wheel it, no; he picks it up, making it look weightless, and it looks like he’s flexing his arms on purpose to make you giggle.

It works.

“Thank everythin’ you’re wearing a skirt.” He grins wildly while he, with one hand on your waist and the other hand tightly gripping your fingers, helps you off the desk. Sure, you could do it herself, they both know, but you’d both much rather let Osamu handle everything. Falling into him and surrendering to trust feels good, and who are you to deny things that make your body sing?

Osamu flips up the bottom of your skirt and pulls, just slightly, so it’s hiked up around the top of your thighs. He gives you a look, and you quickly nod, which leads to him sliding your panties down your legs. Then, he nudges you to sit, and cool faux leather meets bare, burning skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes to stop yourself from shaking with anticipation. “I did it on purpose.”

“Of course you did.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Falling to his knees at your feet, Osamu looks at you with love: nothing more, nothing less.

He lays kisses all over your legs. Starting playfully, dotting your shins and knees with little pecks that make you giggle, he ends up open-mouthed, sucking shades of mauve, raspberry, and plum into the soft, sweet skin of your thighs. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs before kissing the juncture of your thigh and your hip. “You’re so beautiful. Like a work of art”

Then, his lips latch onto your clit, and he begins to suckle on your bundle of nerves like a man that hasn’t seen water for days, and a secret oasis resides between your legs.

Every time you moan, he sucks harder, creating a vicious cycle of action and reaction where his role and yours blur together. He makes you whimper with need, and he answers every one of your calls; he sets metaphorical fire to your trembling bud, and sounds of ecstasy erupt from your lips. 

Frustratingly, his tongue doesn’t go near your folds, never strays from your clit, treats this like an appetizer before tasting the sweet, wet fruit of his labor.

And then, he leans back on his heels.

You gasp at the loss of contact. Cold, artificial air rushes your clit, feeling like ice against his left-behind saliva, and your wriggle against the chair, not sure if you want to be closer or farther away from him. “S-Samu—S-Sir!”

“That was mean,” he tells you. You know—your mind and body feel the realization with agony, his teasing slicing through you like a sharpened blade. His bait-and-switch is unfair, so unfair that the lonely ache in your pussy hurts, leaving you shuddering and weak in the knees while he looks at you with a patronizing stare.

Not one to torture you for long, though, he leans forward again, brushing his nose up against your sex. You whine, throwing your legs over his shoulders to pull him closer, closer, until his lips ghost along the slick edges of your core. He sighs, blowing warm air into you in a way that makes you keen.

You reach and grab a fist of his hair, at which he grunts; with trembling lips, you resign to begging, “Please, please, sir.”

You get the raised brow again, a little gesture that makes you want to throw yout head back and cry out in frustration. “Thought you wanted mean?”

“‘M sorry, sir, I-I—”

“That’s right,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s over-the-top condescending, hinting that he doesn’t really mean it. You recognize the sound of Osamu’s voice when he’s electric, on fire with adrenaline. Every word is laced with a wicked degree of lust that makes your heart pound, makes you struggle closer to him. “My girl’s too dumb to know what she wants.”

Osamu runs his hands up and down your legs, then he grips your knees, wrapping your thighs snugly around his broad shoulders. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, caring, and full of love, but his smirk mocks the way you’re falling apart in his hands. “‘S okay, though. That’s why I’m here. You need me to take care of you, don’t you, baby girl?”

You rush to agree, nodding as you sniffle and press one of your thighs closer to Osamu’s mouth. “I-I can’t…I need you, s-sir.”

“I know, baby; I know.” To soothe you—because he can’t help himself—he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, then bites down until you squeal. You, unaware of what your body is doing to him, reward him with a sudden tug to the fistful of his hair you’re holding onto for dear life. He lets you lead him even though he’s fully aware that you’re not coherent enough to realize it; when you pull, he presses his nose above your sex, grazing his teeth along the flesh of your mound until he reaches the top of your folds.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he growls, right before he dives back in for seconds, tongue flat against your core.

He slides his tongue down from your clit to your weeping hole, dipping just the tip inside. For himself, he wants to savor your saccharine taste; for you, he wants to draw out your pleasure as long as possible, to hold you over the edge of bliss until you’re breathless because of him.

While he slides his tongue in and out of you, lapping from the bottom of your folds up to your clit, he swirls his tongue around your pert bundle of nerves, then angles his chin so his nose bumps against your clit with every downward stroke of his tongue. A waterfall of moans spills out of your lips, any word other than please completely forgotten from your vocabulary. He loves his girl, his polite baby, and as such, the ministrations of his tongue start to quicken, to become rushed and ragged because he, too, needs more.

Your vision starts to blur with pleasure, with tears. You’re close, so close, and you feel knots tying themselves in your stomach and your groin. Wordlessly, thrusting shallowly forward, you beg him not to pull away again; you were wrong, you want to cry, you don’t want him to be mean.

You chase the building high, follow the white hot light building in your vision all the way to your peak. Hips rocking forward, meeting his tongue with no rhythm whatsoever and knocking your clit against his teeth. Legs squeezing, pressing his warm cheeks into you until his 5 o’clock shadow scrapes angry marks into your thighs.

Right before your orgasm crashes over you, he pulls away again.

The sound you make is somewhere between a moan and a sob, and fat tears finally break free from your eyes as your blubber, choking and gasping on your ruined orgasm “N-No, sir, please.”

You don't get very long to cry, though, as he rushes to stand over you. His hands grab both of your cheeks and pull you into him, kissing you so deeply that your ability to think finally melts away completely. His tongue is in your mouth. You taste yourself on him: salty, sweet, musky. His fingers are as cold as ice against your burning skin, heat radiating from your cheeks, to your chest, to your stomach, to your groin. You fidget, but that makes him hold you tighter, pinning your soft cheeks between his calloused hands.

Whimpering, mewling against his lips, you paw at his chest. Broad muscle meets weak fingers, and you tug at the fabric in your way. You need him, need to feel him, need him to hold you now before all of your pieces fall apart.

Osamu pulls his tongue out of your mouth, but you’re too dazed to speak. He presses kisses down your throat, pausing only to suck on your collarbone while quick fingers make easy work of your sweater’s buttons. He glances up at you through half-lidded eyes, grinning as he presses feather-light kisses to the top of your chest. “What’re you crying for, pretty girl? This is what you asked for.”

You take a deep breath, arch your back, push your chest closer to his face. “P-Please, I want…”

When your voice falls off, too weak to finish your sentence, he gives you a fox-like grin. “You want?”

You whine, kicking your feet out behind him. One leg wraps around his waist, the other tangles behind his thigh. Your hands find stability in grabbing his forearms, and you fleetingly think that’s a mistake because he’s so strong and thick that your middle finger and thumb aren’t even close to touching.

“Good girls ask for what they want,” he breathes, letting go of one side of your face to brush his fingers down your throat. He admires you like a fine work of art, but there’s a determination in his touch. A plan, something he knows that you don't.

Asking for what you want is easier said than done when you’re fully clothed, let alone when you’re halfway to the best orgasm of your life. You know he just needs a few words, that you want to be good, and that he likes his good girl, but you struggle to breathe around the words while he, one-handed, unclasps your bra and starts caressing your breast.

“Did you hear me, baby?”

You blinked up at him, nodding feverishly.

He presses his thumb against the side of your neck. Your breach catches under the pad of his finger. “Then tell me what you want.”

His pace grinds to an almost total stop; just one hand keeps massaging your breast. You lick your lips, rock forward, and press your sticky forehead to Osamu’s arm. You sniffle, hot tears rolling off your cheek and into the crook of his elbow.

“I can’t,” you babble, barely louder than a whisper. “‘M sorry, I-I can’t.”

“Oh baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for being my dumb little girl.” At that, at the gentle tone he mocks you with, something snaps in your chest. You feel as if you needed to be broken apart to feel whole again; when your pride shatters, you cry more freely, face blotchy and wet with tears while you cling to Osamu for dear life. Underneath the cracked surface, though, you feel bright and new, shining bright from the trust you give him, and the safety he gives you in return.

Osamu pulls you up by your throat and you yelp, raising your head to stare at him with bleary eyes. 

“You’re fucking perfect, just like this,” he assures you. Then, he kisses you slowly, loops his arms around you to make you turn around, then presses you face-first against his desk. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh; your knees tremble and your hands buzz, not quite feeling the desk’s smooth surface under the electricity coursing through your veins.

And then Osamu spanks you.

It’s just one slap, and you cry out more in surprise than out of pain. Heat rushes to your ass while you whine, feeling the impact turn into liquid arousal dripping between your slick folds. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

You nod with all the vigor you can gather. To that, he spanks the other cheek.

“Yes or no, baby?”

“Yes, sir!” you blurt. You squeeze your eyes shut, ready, hoping for another impact that never comes. Instead, you hear a quiet, metallic clink, then ruffling fabric, then the sound of thin plastic tearing.

All signs point to being seconds away from getting your boyfriend’s cock, and your heart stutters with want.

He runs a hand up and down your spine, and you can’t help but note how heavy his grip feels, how he commands you with the lightest of touches. His other hand grabs your hip, holding you steady once he chooses the right position, lines himself up, and pushes into you with ease.

A throaty growl reaches your ears. You feel his day’s frustration melt away with every inch he stretches you open with, feel tension leave his body as soon as the tip of his cock brushes your cervix. All that’s left behind is his hunger, which he chases by picking up the pace as soon as he’s fully stuffed inside you.

Frustration is replaced with an insatiable desire that has him pounding you so hard that his thighs slap against the backs of yours, your ass slams into his hips, and you’re seeing stars. Your lips hang open while you gasp for air, and tears stream down your face, but your head spins, revolving around the bright moon that fills your sky: Osamu, Osamu, Osamu.

You aren’t sure just how many times he spanks you; you’re not counting beats to see if he’s keeping time with the unfair pace of his thrust. All you know is the feeling of clenching hard at every impact, making him groan every time his hand comes down on your ass, and you hear skin on skin, huffs of breath, and feral growls—all behind you.

Osamu.

“Too fucked out—shit—to think, huh baby girl?” He stutters through his words, barely able to form a complete thought of his own while he reaches forward, under your belly to find your clit from above. 

As soon as he touches you, you choke on a sob. You register a few words in his voice, but you can’t tell if they’re real, or you’re imagining them. 

“It’s—’s okay. I’ll think for ya.”

So fucking tight. 

Is this what you wanted, baby? 

Wanted to make—make me take out all my anger on you?

My perfect little f-fuckdoll.

Good—good girl. Good fucking girl.

Come, baby girl; come for me right now.

And, because Osamu knows what you want best of all, you do. You snap like a pair of chopsticks, splintering, messy, coming undone in a way that permanently changes your very structure. You feel different, made new, changed into something useful for him to satisfy his hunger.

Your orgasm ripples through you in waves that have you heaving. Warm skin, glassy eyes, wet cheeks, hips pressing back into Osamu to swallow him more. You clamp down on him hard, pussy spasming, sucking him dry, pulling an orgasm from him that has him draped over you: slick with sweat, biting down on your shoulder, hand tangled tightly with yours.

“Fuck,” he whines. Afterglow bubbles in your stomach, leaving you delirious and woozy; all you can do in response is whimper.

“‘Ve gotcha,” he slurs. After massaging his hands into your shoulders and down your sides, he winds his arms around your waist and hoists you up as if you weigh nothing. He balances your head on his shoulder and, in spite of his own wobbly, uneven gait, carries you to sit in his office chair, where you curl up in his lap.

“Sir,” you murmur, reaching to smooth your hands over his chest. 

He catches one, presses a kiss to every finger, your palm, and your wrist. “You did so good, baby girl. ‘S over now—you’re safe.”

You bury your face in his neck, too tired to do anything else. But, you do have the fleeting thought that, with him, no matter what you beg him to do to you, “safe” is what you’ll always be.

[zmediaoutlet]

Re: prev tags on the Sam driving post “I wonder if he and dean ever argue about gas money”

I hate that I even know the answer to this

but there’s canonical evidence they do.

In S12 (I don’t remember the exact ep but I had the screenshot on my phone) Sam’s email inbox is visible for a few moments on screen, & one of the emails from Dean is “you owe me for the gas I paid for last week”:

that's hysterical. And very dumb. Because it's on screen I'm forced to try to take the text as text as I always do, and I'm just gonna have to believe this is some kind of ongoing semi-injoke semi-bickerfest where they argue about money and one of them says 'why does it matter our money isn't even real' and one of them says 'it's kinda real, i mean we are wrecking mr dead guy's credit' and one of them says 'oh, what, are we balancing his checkbook too' and then you get shit like this, lol. Especially by s12! It's not like they're still hustling pool, money means nothing! What silly billies.

Separately, that screenshot also proves that: apparently Dean can't stop talking to Sam regardless of medium -- you live in the same house, why tf are you emailing each other -- that Sam helps with Impala part shopping, which is adorable -- and, I'm just gonna speculate here, Dean signed up Sam for the Biggerson's loyalty program as a prank. I hope they get birthday coupons.

[catladyoftheyr]

Too Sweet Ch 5

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4~

Harvey x gn reader

Summary: you get a letter from Harvey inviting you to join him at the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. You sit together and share a bottle of wine as you watch the jellyfish.

Tw: alcohol mention, drinking, tipsy but not drunk

A/n: I headcanon that he had Elliot help him write the letter bc he was nervous. And now after this chapter you’re both in that weird “what are we” space 😈😩

Word count: 2.2 k (this got out of hand whoops)

It felt like your first summer in the Valley had come to pass far too quickly. The air had a light chill to it and the leaves were showing the first signs of changing colors. You pulled the covers around you when you slid out of bed, your makeshift cape dragging across the floor as you flipped through the channels on the tv. The man on the screen was warning that summer crops would start to die soon, and that now was a great time to start thinking about crops for the harvest season. You’d already bid a sad farewell to your tomatoes and blueberries, and made a note to get pumpkin seeds from Pierre. You changed the channel and a full figured woman informed the audience on the proper way to make an omelet, boasting about a secret technique that guaranteed success.

Your stomach rumbled as if making a formal request. You rummaged through the fridge for eggs and milk. You gave the ingredients a thorough whisk before adding them to the pan. You diligently followed along as the woman on screen instructed the correct way to flip and fold the eggs. You added cheese and slid your work onto a plate. You’d never been much of a cook and the food was slightly misshapen. A cautious first bite proved it more than edible, tasting much better than it looked. You dug in eagerly and flipped to the weather channel.

The man pointed to different temperatures behind him and droned on about a cold front coming in this week. Your finger hovered over the power button when he declared that the evening temperature would be pleasantly warm, perfect for the moonlight jelly festival in Pelican Town. Your curiosity peaked, imagining the possibilities of what it could entail. You’d heard folks in town talking about a jellyfish migration, but didn’t know any of the details.

You opened your door and noticed the flag was raised on the mailbox. You opened the flap and thumbed through the stack of envelopes. Even in the countryside junk mail followed you, glossy ads from JojaMart boasting slashed prices and random goods. Even Pierre shelled out for printed coupons in an attempt to compete. A letter from Mayor Lewis invited you to join the townsfolk at the beach tonight for the festival. The bundle of mail hovered over the recycle bin when you were caught off guard by your cat weaving between your legs. You sighed as the papers fell from your hand and scattered on the floor. You knelt down to gather them when an unopened envelope caught your eye. Picking it up you realized it was from Harvey. You carefully tore it open and began to read.

“ I hope this letter finds you well. I’m writing to invite you to join me this evening at the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. Everyone is gathering at the beach tonight to watch the migration of jellyfish. It’s a special occasion that marks the change of seasons in the Valley. I’d be delighted if you’d like to sit with me to share in this memorable experience. Cross the wooden bridge and meet me by the tide pools at 10 pm if you accept my invitation.

Best Regards, Harvey.”

Your face flushed and you pressed the letter close to your chest before carefully refolding it. Was this… a date? You shook your head quickly as if to clear the thought from your head. You wouldn’t let yourself jump to conclusions or indulge in your delusions. It was a perfectly platonic invite to sit together at a festival. Nothing more and nothing less. You took the letter and pinned it to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a heart.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. You’d been busy prepping the farm for the change of seasons you’d hardly noticed the sun had set. You hurried inside to take a shower before you made your way to the beach. You wrapped the towel around your body as you stepped out of the steam; your hair was dripping when you looked in the mirror so you wrapped a towel around your head, hoping the last trace of summer heat would speed things up.

“What do I wear, what do I wear??” You mumbled to yourself as you rummaged through your closet. Something in your gut said farm clothes were out of the question tonight. You pushed aside hangers roughly and held a myriad of clothes against your form in the mirror before tossing them to the floor. After much deliberation you settled on a cotton button up and one of your nice pairs of shorts. You slid on a pair of sandals and turned to head out the door. You paused before exiting, wondering if you should bring a gift or a blanket to sit on. You yanked a spare top sheet from your closet and rooted through the fridge for something to share. You found a small bottle of your favorite wine you’d brought with you from the city. It was admittedly cheap and sugary, but you’d never been one for dry wine. You’d been saving it for a special occasion, but tonight seemed well enough.

You made it to the beach just before ten. You gasped softly, taking in the sight of dozens of small candles floating in the water. The soft glow illuminated the shoreline and the wooden dock by Willie’s shop. Most attendees had gathered on the pier to be as close as possible to the water. You said polite hellos as you headed east. That side of the beach was usually inaccessible, but someone had laid down several wooden planks to form a makeshift bridge. You hesitated before crossing and hoped it was sturdier than it looked. Despite some creaks and wobbles, you made it across safely and turned to scan for Harvey.

The tide pools took up most of the area, leaving small patches of sand near the shore free. You saw Harvey standing, pacing really, in a spot away from the crowd. He seemed more anxious than usual as he patrolled in a figure eight with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Could this be because of you? Maybe this really was a date.

“Hi, Harvey” you called as you approached. The doctor stopped in his tracks with a start. You think you saw his cheeks flush pink but couldn’t tell for certain in the moonlight.

“Oh! You came!” He looked surprised, like he’d been worried you wouldn’t show up. “I mean not that I was expecting you to not come- I just thought maybe you didn’t see my letter, or maybe you weren’t interested, or maybe you didn’t want to feel obligated, or-“

“Hey. It's okay. I promise” you interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. “I got the letter this morning and I want you to know that I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. I really like hanging out with you, Harvey.” You tried your best to sound cool and confident. Truthfully your stomach was doing backflips and you hoped you weren’t coming on too strongly.

Harvey seemed to deflate a smidge, visibly releasing some of the tension he usually held in his body with a soft sigh. “I’m glad you could make it. Is this spot okay? I don’t like the crowds very much” he confessed. “We should be able to get a good view of the jellyfish from here. They’re attracted to the lights.”

“This is perfect.” You pulled your bag off your shoulders and produced the wrinkled sheet. “I brought this for us to sit on.” Harvey immediately helped to spread the sheet over the sand and gestured for you to take a seat first. You sat criss cross applesauce on the sheet and Harvey took a place beside you, mimicking your form. If either of you moved much your knees would knock together.

You dug out the bottle of wine from your bag and held it out. “Oh, and I brought this too. I thought we could share it. I brought it with me when I moved. It’s my favorite kind. I was going to save it for a special occasion but I thought it’d be nice to have tonight”

“I think that’s a nice gesture.” Harvey took the bottle from you and rotated it in his hands, examining the label.

“It’s cheap, I know,” you explained sheepishly. “I like the sweet stuff. Oh and um it’s screw top so you don’t need a corkscrew or anything.” You were suddenly embarrassed by your taste in alcohol. The wine was popular among teenagers and college students for its low price and easy access. Nor exactly romantic beach date material.

Harvey didn’t seem to mind and peeled the label and unscrewed the top. He looked at you quizzically and you suddenly remembered you’d neglected to bring cups. “Oh my god I completely forgot to bring cups! Um we don’t have to drink it tonight it’s totally fine you can just screw the lid on or-“

“I know I’m a doctor but I’m okay drinking from the bottle if you are” he teased, this time interrupting you. You blushed bright red and felt hot, but took a breath and regained your cool.

“I’m okay with that,” you giggled. He passed the bottle back to you and held up an invisible cup as if to cheers. You met his hand with your free one and clinked your imaginary glasses.

“You first.”

You took a small swig and felt the warmth of the alcohol spread immediately. You passed the bottle to Harvey and he flushed as soon as the wine entered his system.

“So does this festival happen every year?”

“It does. It’s a sort of celebration of the end of summer and a way to welcome fall to the valley. When the jellyfish migrate, then you know that the seasons have officially started their transition.”

“It reminds me of bird migration and flying south for the winter. It makes me want to migrate too. I hate the cold to be honest. I’m not a winter person.”

“It can be sad to see summer end, but the town’s fall festivities are some of my favorites. I love attending the Stardew Valley fair and seeing people from all over the Valley come together. It’s a great opportunity to see the fruits of everyone's labor. Are you going to grow any pumpkins on your farm?”

You nodded. “I want to make a pumpkin pie from scratch this year. And I’m looking forward to Spirits Eve. I heard Abigail talking about a haunted maze the other day. She said it was pretty scary even for her last year.”

Harvey shuddered. “That maze gives me the creeps. I’m not a fan of being scared on purpose.”

You were about to respond when you heard Mayor Lewis raise his voice to make an announcement. “I’m lighting the candle boat. The jellies should start to appear any moment now.” As if on cue you spotted a small blue figure swimming in the ocean.

“Look! A jelly!” You pointed eagerly to the fish you’d seen and watched in awe as two more appeared.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Harvey asked. More and more of the jellyfish began to swim south to warmer waters, brilliant shades of blue swirling underneath the surface. You were both rendered speechless as you watched them make their way through the sea. The spot Harvey had picked gave a prime view, and it seemed that anyone else on this side of the beach had traversed toward the pier when Lewis had lit the candle boat. The two of you were alone by the tide pools, taking in the sight together.

You watched together as the jellyfish slowly disappeared, exchanging words about the beauty of nature as you finished the bottle of wine. You were warm and bubbly from the alcohol in your blood and felt emboldened. You moved your hand so that it brushed against Harvey’s and interlaced your fingers with his. You leaned in to whisper. “Thank you for inviting me.”

You sat with your fingers locked for several minutes as the very last jellyfish receded behind the horizon. When you finally let go, Harvey folded the sheet for you to place in your bag. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you home”

“Oh you don’t have to do that, Harvey. The farm is past the clinic anyways.”

“Nonsense. It's just past the bus stop, and I insist.”

“Well if you insist” you giggled, still tipsy.

You and Harvey walked quietly back to the farm. You tried to let him go once you reached the property line, but he insisted on walking you to your door as it was “the gentlemanly thing to do”. The two of you stood on the porch of the old farmhouse, illuminated by the moon and the porch light.

“Goodnight, Harvey. Thank you for walking me home. And thank you for inviting me to join you tonight. I had a wonderful time.” You acted on impulse as you pulled the doctor in for a hug. His warmth enveloped you and he pulled you tighter, his hands gripping your back. He smelled like wine and salt water. You inhaled deeply before letting go.

“Goodnight” Harvey seemed as if he was about to turn to head home, but paused and placed a light kiss on your forehead. He looked at you with warm eyes before he turned down the path back into town.

[unamused-boss]

California Dreaming pt3

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Last part! Warning: Kinda short, but I still hope you love it!

Summary: Max and Billy could only agree on one thing in common.... and that was you. You were their neighbor when the lived in California and Billy had the biggest crush on you. Plus it helped that you babysat, more like hangout with, Max. You were his California dream. And sometimes dreams come true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't stand the time you had away from Billy. Your best friend and boyfriend were gone all in one on the same day. You've been writing to Billy which is a plus. Turns out he joined the basketball team. He's been to every party thrown in town, but he says they're all a bust. Met a guy named Munson that gets him weed, but Billy quotes "It's nothing like the shit in Cali...". You can't help but laugh at his sarcastic tones through the letters.

You know he misses it here. He tells you in every letter the love that he holds for you, that nothing will change. He admitted to going on some dates with girl to get you off his mind. He felt guilty, he wanted your forgiveness even though you told him to try an move on to at least have fun. Billy said ,once again, in his letter that he wants no one else but you. Your eyes were something he missed most of all. He said that you had a light in them that he felt only he saw. You always giggled when it came to the gushy stuff in his letters. Billy was a flirt with girls but he was a romantic with you.

Since graduating high school early you've had a lot of time on your hands. You were still gonna walk at graduation, you just weren't going to do anything else. Cause by god you are getting that dumb piece of paper in front of everyone. It was a couple of days before the week up spring break but for you it was a regular working Wednesday. You currently work at some clothing store in the mall and oh so excitedly deal with mother's trying to get some sort of deal out of you.

The time was 5:00pm you are now pulling into your driveway of your house for the night. Happy that your got off early you notice your parents aren't home yet. You make your way down to the mailbox to check for anything. Which you find a bunch of letters piled onto one another. You begin to sift through it.

"Bill, Bill, Coupon, post card from Aunt Shelly, Bill...y." You stop at, what you thought was another bill but was actually, a letter from Billy. You rush up to your front door to be able to read the letter. Throwing everything onto the kitchen table an make your way to your room. You bounce on your bed at tear open the letter...

Hello Y/N, I hope you are happy with what you're doing. I just read your letter. God I wish I could graduate early to get this shit hole. Anyways, Max is doing good. She still with those little balls of snot for friends. Hopefully you wrote her, so she can stop asking me to check the mail for your letters. I miss you very much. Spring break is about to start, since the public pool opened I got a job there. Hopefully I can get enough money to be able to come an see you and to stay with you. You probably already know me, I'm not really good at this writing shit. But if it's for you, I'll do it. I love you, -Billy

You smiled down at the words on the paper.

"I love you too." You said down to the paper. That feeling came back again. The feeling of wanting to see him. You can't help it, you miss him so much. You go over to your landline in the kitchen to lunch in a number you have memorized by heart now.

"Santa Monica airport, what can I help you with today?" The droned out employee said.

"Hey, I wanna know if you have any direct flights to Hawkins Indiana?"

"Hold on, let me check..." You hear a faint typing for a few seconds.

"Anything?" You question.

"None to Hawkins but we have one to Indianapolis flying out this Friday at 5:00am." They said.

"Perfect!" You shouted. "How much?"

"That will be a hundred an thirty dollars..."

"I've got that!" You race around to your purse to fish out your debit card to pay for the ticket. You give them the info to send the ticket via email for you to print out. It would be thirty more dollar but you didn't care.

"Alright, thank you choosing Santa Monica airlines tod-." You didn't even let them finish. You hung up the phone right away to go pack an call off work for the next week or so. You couldn't stop giggling the whole time. Seeing Billy and Max is going to be the best thing to happen to you in the past few months. Then you hear your front door open and shut. Then you realized something...

"Hey mom, I gotta tell you something!" You shouted running out of your room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were honestly shitting your pants the whole way to Hawkins from Santa Monica. You currently stand outside of Hawkins High School waiting for Billy. You slept during your flight over at 5 am but once you were on the ground you couldn't hold still. Your stuff is at the motel just outside of town for the next week.

You passionately waited for Billy to walk out of the school. You could see his car from a mile away. Plus with is reputation it wasn't hard to find out about him. You turned your wrist to look at your watch, 3:15 it read. the bell rang and school was out for spring break. Students passed by you, giving you weird looks.

"Who is that?" "Does Billy know them?" "Probably a desperate Ex." Were some of the things that were thrown around you. As if you couldn't hear the. 'Geez do these people know how to shut up...'

"Billy. Who's that?" An oddly pitchy voice said breaking you out of your thoughts.

Billy ripped his head around to you. You being the last person he would see by his car. The girl he, once had his arm around, was with was now forgotten. Billy thought he was gonna vomit at the sight of you.

"Shit.." You mutter.

"Holy fuck..." He said.

"Billy who is this?" The girl said once again getting annoyed. Billy turned back to her.

"Why are you still here?" He questioned. The girl now looked perplexed. She thought Billy was gonna take her out but now he wants nothing to do with her. Before she could say anything Billy spoke, "Go the hell away. Ya stupid cow..." He muttered the last part.

Billy walked up to you, star struck. He now had you trapped between him and the car with his hands on your hips. Holding you gently. You were smiling up at him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I wanted to see you." you said. "Is that so bad?" You teased him. When you both could call one another you would constantly tease him over the phone.

"No!" He answered quickly. "It's actually great, cause I was loosing my damn mind being away from you." You giggled at him. He his lips down to your temple, kissing you gently. To the students around you it was shocking to see Billy Hargrove be gentle with anybody. But to you this was your Billy.

"Y/N!!" A familiar voice shouted out to you. You turned to her direction to see Max running full speed to you. You part from Billy momentarily to hug Max.

"Hey MadMax!" You exclaimed. Even though Billy thought Max was a pain in the ass most of the time; he loved seeing you two together. He was happy that she got to see you.

"How long are you here for?" She questioned.

"I'm here for all of spring break." You smiled. They both looked at you dumb founded. You were gonna be with them for a week.

"Yes!" Billy said excitedly, pulling you into a hug. You laughed as he squeezed you.

"How about we go on a date tonight?" You asked him.

"Hell yeah!" He shouted. Crashing his lips onto yours. Desperation and love pouring into the moment. He missed your lips. How soft they were and smooth. He missed you so much.

"ew..." It was faint but you both knew it was from Max.

"Get in the car shit bird." Billy said.

"Hey be nice." You sternly said, mighty sapping his arm. He huffed at you, looking at you with soft eyes. The eye you fell in love with.

"Let's take Max home and we can go on our , much needed, date."

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Billy smiled.And that's how it went for the next week. You spent your time with Billy and Max, well more so Billy. Billy held you so close not wanting to let you go when you both cuddled. You met Max's friends and some more people around Hawkins with your small time there. You had some sleepovers with Max, trying to make up for lost time. Neil wouldn't do anything while you where here in town, so that meant a safe environment for Max and Billy even though it was for a week. You found the town cute, but you prefer Santa Monica.

Most of all, you and Billy got time alone. To be with each other in each others arms. Going on cute dates, walks, drives, everything. You became the envy of the town. The one that swooped Billy Hargrove off hid feet the spring break of 85'. He wouldn't have it any other way though. He would stay in this shithole town if it meant being with you.

When it came time for you to go home, it was full of tears and heart felt kisses. You didn't want to leave them again but you had to.

"Once I graduate I'll be back, I promise." You said.

When it came time for you to go home, it was full of tears and heart felt kisses. You didn't want to leave them again but you had to. 

"Once I graduate I'll be back, I promise." You said.

That promise was made two months ago. In those two months you also visited Billy three more times over the summer. In your last visit you brought him back home with you. To California. You got him far away from his pain. 

You both have an apartment near the beach, like you both wanted. You stared college; while Billy started work at a car restoration shop. Billy could surf everyday while you laid in the sun. You both loved each other even more with every day that passed.

A California dream come true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know its a cheesy ending but I hope you like it.

@capitanostella

@maackiimoo

@mystargirl-interlude

[angel-of-the-moons]

uhm

Pavitr x wife f!reader: Pavitr noticed that the reader has been feeling really tired lately so he takes her to a love hotel 😌

The Escape

Pavitr x Wife!Reader

TW/CW: Fluff, NSFW, smut, established relationship, marriage, PiV sex, protected sex (condom), morning sex, somnophilia (pre-established consent), grinding

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Pavitr is obviously an adult in this fic, so anons can stop screeching into my ask box

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

You had a very bad day at work today. First, your best mop broke while you were cleaning the main room of the building you were contracted to clean this week, then, you had to listen to your boss harp at you for taking too long when she said she wouldn't reimburse you or replace said mop you bought for work; the mop that was steam-powered and easier on your back to push around.

Now you were back to using a regular janitorial bucket and mop and god, you were hurting so bad.

You wanted to go home, crawl in bed, and sleep for a month.

You were just thankful today was the last day you'd have to clean that god-forsaken building, and you'd get to take two weeks to relax.

Of course, you'd do so with your golden retriever of a husband, Pavitr Prabhakar. His cuddles were some of the best ever, and you knew you'd be able to recharge the moment you snuggled up into him on your bed and drifted off to sleep.

What you weren't expecting to come home to, however, is packed suitcases neatly organized by the front door, Pavitr wearing an adorably dorky shirt with dog patterns on it, a big sunny grin on his face.

"Uh--Pav?" You blink.

"Okay, okay, I know this is weird!" He laughed, shaking his hands and rubbing the back of his neck. "But c'mon! I know you've been exhausted with work the past month, and now that you have a couple weeks to relax... We could take a trip!"

Your jaw hung agape as he continued. "I booked a hotel for us. It's on the edge of Mumbattan, but the view is amazing! I got lucky and scored some coupons in a raffle, so I only had to pay half price! It's one of those swanky hotels that normally cost like... two weeks worth of a paycheck. But I paid waaaaaaay less."

You felt your heart do a funny little flip at his gesture of love. "Pavitr..."

"I know." He smiled at you bashfully, holding your hands in his excitedly. "As soon as we get there, we can take a nice long nap, the two of us. Then we can order dinner or eat at the restaurant in the hotel!"

"What about.... Y'know. Your Spider-Man stuff?" You asked him.

"Well, things on the streets seem calm this past month, and I went on ahead and told Miguel what I was planning. He's not as scary as everyone says! He waved his hand off and told me to come home and take care of you. Cool, right?"

You made a mental note to bake some cookies for Miguel as a thank you for that.

"C'mon, lovie. Pretty please?" He said, sticking out his bottom lip and giving you his sweetest little puppy dog eyes.

You always caved when he did that...

"Okay, okay..."

"Yay! Now, I packed your suitcase for you so you don't have to do anything but sit and look pretty! Let's go!" He winked at you.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

Pavitr was not lying, the hotel was gorgeous. It had an indoor pool with a waterfall, a hot tub, and two restaurants plus a bar surrounding the swimming areas.

You two ate at one of the restaurants, and despite your exhaustion, you were enjoying yourself. You were having a wonderful time and trip with your darling goofball of a husband (who tripped and fell in the pool because he wasn't watching where he was going, soaking his clothes all the way through.).

When you got back to the room, you and Pavitr took a nice long bath together, taking turns washing each other and running fingers through each other's hair.

When you dried off and flopped down onto the plush bed--you didn't even bother with nightclothes--you decided it was the perfect way to end the night.

But Pavitr had... other ideas. You felt his warm hand on the curve of your spine and you turned your head to look over at him, and his eyes were so warm and patient.

"Heyyy... I'm not done spoiling you, yet, lovie." He said softly to you

"Pav, I don't think you need to do more for me for the rest of my life. Today was amazing." You sigh sweetly with a smile.

"No, no, this is definitely something you need." He hummed, getting up off the edge of the bed and walking over to his suitcase, rummaging through it until he pulled out a small bottle.

He turned and wiggled it, a wide grin on his face. "Your back's been hurting, right? I wanted to massage it for you. Then we can sleep."

You blink a little dumbly at him as he walked back over to you. On one hand, you did want to cuddle up and sleep. On the other hand, a massage sounds heavenly on your sore shoulders and back...

You sigh and giggle, propping your arms beneath the pillow cushioning your head as you close your eyes. "Go ahead, hon."

You didn't need to have your eyes open to know he pumped his fist in victory, a happy twinkle in his eyes.

Not long after, you feel his weight straddle the backs of your thighs and then he dribbles the oil onto your skin it was warm, and the first scent that hits you is the vanilla, immediately chased by lavender.

When his hands smoothed the oil around, you sigh once more in bliss, before making a soft noise when you feet his thumbs begin to press soft circles into the tense muscles of your shoulders.

"Oh, my poor girl." He said, his voice sad as he introduced pressure from his other fingers. "My beautiful girl is all tense and hurting? Makes my heart hurt!"

You make a soft whimper when his nimble fingers, calloused from years of web-slinging and crime-fighting begin to massage the body oil into your skin as he works on each knot as slowly as possible, ensuring he eases it out completely before moving onto the next.

By the time he's moved onto your back, you're a squirming and whimpering mess. It was such a weird feeling; a mix of pleasure, pain, and almost a sensation of being tickled. It was a cocktail you found yourself getting drunk and sleepy off of. You weren't sure where one knot started and the other ended, because he was undoing them with such efficiency.

"Hey... you okay?" Pavitr asked you quietly, kissing your shoulder.

"Mhmm." You hummed against the pillow.

"You sound like you're falling asleep." He grinned.

"'m not." You deny, your tone completely betraying your lie. You really were on the verge of sleep, your mind foggy and dancing on the precipice of dreams.

"You're so cute. Go on ahead and sleep, babygirl." Pavitr hums, placing more kisses on your neck.

And before you knew it, you were out like a light.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

When you woke up, you were first made aware that Pavitr was pressed up against you, passed out and dressed in nothing but his boxers, with one of his knees brought firmly between your thighs.

You usually woke up this way, with Pavitr doing his best impression of a koala bear, snoring softly in his sleep. Normally, it was adorable.

But right now it was far from innocent and adorable.

You could feel the unmistakable outline of his cock throbbing against the swell of your ass. Whatever he was dreaming, it was certainly nice, judging by how he was rutting against you lazily, whimpering as his hot breath fanned against your neck in short, needy pants.

You felt a twinge of guilt; with your workload lately you and your darling husband hadn't had time to be intimate, really, so he must feel pretty pent up.

Almost as pent up as you are beginning to realize you are, actually. The sounds he was making, the way his bulge rubbed against you, and the way he'd mutter your name? It was like a fire was lit down low in your belly, the hot sticky mess between your legs pressing hard against his leg when he brought it higher.

If you didn't know any better, you knew he was awake and merely playing with you. But you knew Pavitr in every way possible. He was definitely asleep. He slept like a brick. It's why his alarms were loud enough to burst your eardrums, you teased him.

You bite your lip and roll your hips back against him, feeling his chest rise and fall with a stuttering breath as he whimpered into your hair.

Oh, poor Pavitr...

This was nice, but it wasn't enough for you.

It made you feel another snag of guilt as you pulled away to roll over and face him, but the moment your warmth left his, Pavitr rolled over onto his back, one hand rested on his belly as he breathed deeply, his face flushed with whatever erotic dream his subconscious kicked up for him to enjoy.

You smiled down at him as your eyes hungrily drank in his cute, messy hair, his needy expression and toned, fit body. He was a gorgeous man. Adorable yes, but also gorgeous. Every time he wore a tight shirt, you'd always catch women just staring oh so shamelessly at him.

You'd always feel a bit smug; special. Because you knew you were the only woman Pavitr would let touch him, the matching gold rings on your fingers solidified that knowledge, gave it physical shape.

You drag your fingers up one of his thighs in a feather-light caress slowly but surely making your way to the bulge straining so tight against his boxers.

You let out a satisfied hum, as you palm the thickness of it softly, stroking him through the cotton as you watched the swell of it twitch and strain against the stitching.

Biting your lip, you leaned over him, hooking your thumbs around the waistband of his boxers and slowly peeled them down, freeing the aching length of his dick to allow it to flop to the side a bit, the cool air making it twitch as it was finally given room to rise to full mast.

Your eyes flicked up to Pavitr's sleeping face as his expression relaxed, no doubt in relief that his poor cock wasn't being squished by his underwear any longer. He was still making those sounds, but still dreaming, you could tell, by the way his long black eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks.

You wrap your hand around his girth and give a few experimental pumps as you circle your clit with your fingers, idly toying with your own wetness as you try to decide the next course of action.

And that's when it hits you.

Grinning, you pull away, watching as the twitch of his cock laments the loss of your touch while you shimmy out of your ruined panties and carefully straddle his waist.

You stayed, your dripping heat hovering over his cock as you looked down at him, your hands braced on either side of his head as his face twisted while something in his dream shifted.

And oh, when you felt the velvety heat of his cock grind against your clit, it was wonderful. The prominent vein that ran the length of the underside of his cock added the perfect friction for you to rub against; your dripping slick adding perfect lubricant to allow you to glide on him effortlessly.

Your eyes roll back as your breathing gets heavy, feeling a tingle at the base of your spine slowly spread up, your toes curling slightly at just how hot this all is. You haven't done this in particular in a while, playing around with him while he slept. The first time you did it you thought he'd be upset, but he quickly assured you that it was the most amazing way to be woken up in the morning. A million times better than his favorite snack and coffee, first thing.

You make a soft noise as his hips rut upwards against you, adding extra stimulation whilst your breath gets caught in your throat.

Your eyes snap open when hands slide up your thighs to grip at your ass, pulling you down harder to grind on Pavitr's cock.

"Oh... 'm-morning to you, too." Pavitr panted up at you, a love-drunk smile on his face as his eyes blink drowsily up at you.

"Morning baby." You breathe, leaning down to kiss him.

"Don't stop." He groaned as your lips broke apart.

"I wasn't planning on it." You chuckle breathlessly and lean down to kiss his bobbing Adams apple.

"I... I put some condoms in the nightstand last night, if you wanna..."

You groan deeply in your chest. Yeah, yeah you definitely wanted him inside of you, right now.

"Right." You say, clearing your throat as you leaned away from him, stopping that delicious friction as you quickly rifle through the drawer, fishing out the needed foil packet.

You hastily tear it open and pull out the rubber item, and slowly, almost achingly so, roll it down his length until it was snug at the base of his cock.

"God--" He whimpered, hips stuttering up into your touch.

"I know, baby." You sigh, climbing on top of him again as his hands squeeze your thighs briefly, moving up to your hips while your delicate fingers line his cock up with your wanting hole.

"'M not gonna last long." You tell him, your voice trembling as you lower yourself down, sinking his cock all the way in one smooth stroke.

The sound that came from within his chest made your toes curl again. "I--I know." Pavitr groaned. "Me either."

You languidly rolled your hips, dragging his throbbing length through your tight, velvety walls, the ribs and bumps on the condom making your eyes roll back with a whimper.

Pavitr was definitely feeling more awake, now, because he was thrusting up into you with wanton desperation his feet bracing on the mattress as you drove yourself down to meet his hips, gyrating and rolling against him; the tip of his cock ramming against your sweet spot with every thrust, making you practically squeal.

"Right there?" He pants, his hand reaching up to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh gently in his palms, marveling at how the fat squishes beneath his fingers.

"Yes!" You whine, bracing your hands on his chest for support as you rode yourself closer to your orgasm.

God, you needed this. You both did. The two of you had been so stressed out and run taut that you felt you both were going to snap. Half the time, when you two finally met at home, you were too tired to do more than eat, shower, and sleep.

Yes, cuddles were nice, but sometimes a husband and his wife just absolutely needed to rail each other until their eyes crossed, y'know?

Yeah... you made a mental note to squeeze sex into your future schedules, after this. You were so drunk off this ecstasy that neither of you were sure you could go longer than a day or two without it ever again. The distance your schedules imposed on the two of you just made the euphoria that much stronger.

And god, when you came, it felt like all the stress of the past few weeks completely ebbed away with each contraction of your muscles around his hard length; your wet, needy walls milking him for everything his body promised he could give you.

"Gh--tight..." He groaned, tilting his head back and gritting his teeth, the hand that was groping at your chest joined the other at your hips, helping you rise and fall on him, helping you ride out your orgasm as he so desperately tried to pitch himself over that edge he was teetering on.

You were so thankful he thought ahead of time for condoms, whimpering as his hips slammed up into you, threatening to make you cum a second time in less than a minute.

Neither of you were ready for a baby just yet, and you hadn't found a birth control that didn't make you sick. It was Pavitr's idea you get off your birth control in the first place, because he hated how sick you'd get, how uncomfortable you were.

So... You both opted for condoms and emergency contraceptives in case something happened while you had sex.

And fuck. Were you worried you'd need to take some, right now, with how you felt the condom swell and strain as he pumped his thick load into the thin rubber.

You were worried it was going to burst, especially with how he was rabbiting his hips up into yours as he chased the waning flames of his coital haze as your tight hole milked him dry.

It didn't, and you were glad of the fact as you dropped down, laying across his chest as the two of you heaved for some fresh air, your lungs burning desperately with each drag.

"Good morning. Again." You mumble with a giggle against his sweaty skin.

"Oh, yeah. It definitely is, now." He grinned, his hand running up and down your back in a loving caress.

"I hope you know we're not leaving this room for the rest of the day, now, right?" Pavitr asked you.

Oh, your fluffy, doofy husband had some of the best ideas...

[aloysiavirgata]

Prompt: Scully caught Mulder buying condoms. Thank you😊

Dana examines the coupons in her little vinyl pouch, squints at the price of the Paul Mitchell conditioner. It’s a splurge and she has med school debts, but what the hell?

She catches her reflection as she passes a display of hand mirrors. The temporary brown rinse is rapidly fading from her hair and she feels an itch to do something new. Blonde? Something short and sporty? Bangs?

She must call her sister first. Melissa always knows the right thing here.

Dana puts a jar of Noxzema in her basket, a tube of Evyan White Shoulders lotion. There’s a Cosmo in there too, an occasional cheap thrill, which promises to analyze her seasonal color palette. She rounds the corner to peruse the lipsticks and walks face first into someone’s tie.

“Scully?” Mulder says, as though HE isn’t in HER Rite-Aid on a Friday night.

She notes him switch the basket to his other hand. Sees a box of Trojans peeking out from a heap of Slim Jims and bags of his stupid sunflower seeds.

Dana does not smirk, though she’s heard salacious things about him from Holly and a few other women. “Hey,” she says.

They stand there awkwardly, Friday-night colleagues with dirty little secrets.

Mulder coughs. “Gotta go home and get my curlers set,” he says at last, patting his hair. “Otherwise I won’t be able to do a thing with it.”

She smiles up at him, grateful for the effort. Neither of them wants to be the first to unpack their private lives in front of the other on the speckled Formica counter.

Dana remembers she has a coupon for two pints of Ben and Jerry’s, another splurge, but ice cream and her trashy magazine sound like heaven tonight.

“Forgot something,” she says, relieved for a real excuse. “See you Monday, I guess.”

“See you Monday,” he echoes.

She heads for the frozen section and watches him in one of the security mirrors. He’s good looking, Fox Mulder, in an assholish professorial way. He has nicer clothes than her and maybe he does put curlers in his damn hair. He has lashes like a fawn.

In the reflection he piles his items on the counter, chats with the clerk as his snacks crinkle. Dana blushes when she realizes she’s squinting to make out the size of the condoms. She’s seen him in the pool before.

Mulder pays and exits, leaving her staring at Wavy Gravy and Cherry Garcia.

Holly made it sound like he had Bond Girls lining up at his door all weekend, like he fucked the way he swam and ran, like a matter of simple physical exertion. If there’s a serious girlfriend no one has made her aware.

But Dana thinks back to his hotel room a couple of weeks ago, knows he could have gotten her terrified ass in his bed if he wanted to. Jack Willis hadn’t had to do much, and that makes her blush again. But Mulder was a gentleman and told her about his baby sister instead. Or maybe she isn’t his type, she thinks.

She takes two pints of Cookie Dough from the freezer and adds them to her other items. She pulls her cell phone from her coat pocket, enters speed dial number 14.

“Holly?” she says, when her friend answers. “Guess what?”

[romanarose]

share with the class this scenario of kurt seducing the mice he lady. Don’t leave us hanging.

okay tee hee ill give you a LITTLE somthing!!!! <3

I dont want this au to be a x reader thing because I want it mostly just our x men guys but for you? I'll give you a little something <3

Little twist at the end

***

"Okay, so $5 each. Pay up."

Remy was in charge of keeping the bets and giving out the money. He wasn't participating, he was a one person man and was loyal to Rogue, but there was no harm in betting. His money was on Logan while Rogue was betting on Emma.

The team had a little bet going, Jean Scott and Charles were not invited to this betting pool, on who could get between HR lady's legs first.

Objective was pretty straight forward.

Clear consent. Seduction is one thing, no pushing it

Something gotta go inside. Dick, fingers, tongue, tail, whatever it is you're working with, gotta go inside pussy or ass

Easy peasy.

It was way harder than Logan expected. Women, generally, were easy for him. She just made some comment about needing a hair net for his arms and walked away.

She told Emma someone was up front.

She laughed at Peitro, and asked alex if he even took Algebra one yet.

Sean thought he made it at one point, going in for a kiss but she literally ducked. Wade saw and has not stopped teasing him.

Morph made himself look like Logan. Logan got rejected again.

Finally, it was Kurt that strolled into the restaurant at 10:58 ( 13 minutes late) bragging about him he's spent the night "in the throws of passion" with the HR lady.

Everyone grumbled, but although Kurt didn't seem to have qualms about fucking everyone under the sun, he sure did draw the line at lying.

"Remy's closing tonight, I'll tell him to tally up everyone's bets."

Jean turned the corner, looking at her clipboard as took a break from ordering to talk the opening servers in. "What bet?"

Kitty answered. "We took bets on who could fuck the HR lady first."

Jean didn't even look up. "Oh, her and Scott's been fucking for a week."

Unanimously gasps and questioning come out from everyone.

"Yeah. Heard her in the office like," She looked up to mock her voice. "Ohhhh Scooott, your binder is so organized, I love how well you document, blah blah blah. They probably get hard for manilla folders. Don't do stupid shit, let everyone know about the $5 take home promos and watch out for that coupon scam. Go make money."

With that, she walked off to finish the order.

[prettyporcelainporcupine]

I cannot explain it more clearly.

Working class people who would normally vote in big blue regions have been forced to move to cheaper rural areas by skyrocketing housing costs and still commute into the urban areas for work.

People are making 2 hour commutes to and from work daily.

You cannot ignore rural areas as being irredeemably Red, you cannot continue to ignore polling locations that are too far from home and work for people, you cannot condescendingly lecture someone on not having the $60 to uber to a polling location by giving them a link to a rideshare 50% off coupon that is capped at $10 and leaves them stranded at the booth!

Its not enough to shout VOTE! and scare-monger Republicans while rolling out a bunch of the most evil politicians of the early 2000s just because young voters don't know how horrific seeing Dick fucking Cheney is because they weren't born yet.

So many of my coworkers did not vote because we work entire cities away from our polling location. I leave home at 4am and don't get home until 9pm. I live in a rural area where 50k people voted and 87% of them voted for Trump. No transport offers posted anywhere, no visits to the trailer parks or retirement homes, no van pools. Just online links to rideshare apps.

We talk about how impossible living has become with everything hidden behind apps and QR codes and pay walls, but voting this election suffers that same problem.

In 2020 there were people offering free rides in my community to the polls, there were flyers posted on light poles, bus stops, and sent in the mail.

I got 5 million political texts. I did not receive one offer for a ride to my local polling place. I only heard about the rideshare discount from the radio, and it capped at $10 while ride prices doubled. I was not spending $120 to vote blue in a deeply red county so I'm damn certain none of my neighbors did. My sister has an 8 month old, she could not stand in the heat for hours on end.

Voting is simply not accessible, and lower earning people do not have the privilege to live and work near their polling booth, and all democrats can think to do is yell at them that they didn't spend a weeks paycheck on an Uber.

[suckitsurveys]

What was the year/make/model of the last car you drove? 2008 Ford Escape Hybrid.

Have you ever been in weather below 0 Fahrenheit (-17 Celcius)? It was like -10F with windchill the other day.

What was the last thing you used your phone for, besides calling/texting? I was browsing Reddit a little bit ago.

Do you have more male or female coworkers? I am the only girl here from M-Th. Friday we have our admin assistant in the office with us.

Did you enjoy high school? No.

What’s an unusual food combination you like? I don’t think there’s anything that “unusual” I enjoy.

What’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent completely alone? Good question, I can’t recall a huge stretch of time I was completely alone. Probably no more than a day or two.

Have you ever lived in a studio apartment? I have not.

Did your parents allow you to drink soda when you were a kid? Yeah, but I was supposed to ask first. They used to keep Dr. Pepper in the fridge but I wasn’t allowed to go in the fridge without permission, but they always had cases of it not in the fridge so I used to sneak the warm ones and drink those lol.

Do you always check the prices of things when you buy groceries? Yeah, for the most part. We have the Jewel-Osco app so we always look for deals and stuff on that and clip coupons before we go shopping.

Do you like gyoza? I can’t remember if I’ve tried it or not.

Have you ever been in a situation where you needed a lawyer? Nope.

Do you use Instagram? If so, what’s your current profile pic? I do; it’s me dressed as Billie Eilish from the When The Party’s Over music video from this part Halloween.

Did you ever go through an emo or goth phase? Sure.

What are your thoughts on kids being given iPads to keep them entertained? I don’t think it’s all that bad, as long as they aren’t on it ALL day long.

Do you get regular check-ups with your doctor? Oops.

What was the last thing you felt apprehensive about? Work-related shit.

How many nights per week do you cook dinner at home vs. going out to eat? Mark cooks almost every night, but we do have a take out day two or three times a month.

What’s a trend you’ve seen recently that you thought was really dumb? AI. Also the fucking Stanley Cup obsession. it’s not even practical at ALL.

Do you know anyone who has been evicted? Yeah.

When did you last wash your sheets and pillowcases? A couple of weeks ago.

Have you kissed more than 10 people in the past 10 years? I’ve only kissed one person in the past 12 years.

Have you ever been caught outdoors away from shelter during a thunderstorm? Yeah.

Did you leave the house before 10 AM yesterday? I do that every work day, M-F.

What’s your favorite macaron flavor? I actually don’t really like macarons that much.

How often do you have friends over to your house? Very rarely.

Have you ever had a boss who acted unprofessionally? Eh.

How many times have you stayed at a hotel in the past year, and where? Twice? The Wilderness water park resort in Wisconsin and then at a hotel near the airport here in Chicago for my bday. All the other times I traveled I stayed at someone’s house.

What kind of technological advancements do you expect there to be 100 years from now? I don’t care I’ll be dead.

Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Nah.

What about a flip off of a diving board? I’ve done flips into the pool when I was kid.

What was the last hot beverage you had? I’m currently drinking tea.

[olderjodijournals]

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1994

I just got out of the shower and now Tom’s in the shower. He’s going to go to work and come home around 9:00 or so, take me to get stuck, then drop me off and go to work again till the usual time.

Yesterday I typed up two more documents for Tom and now I’m going to go do up another one.

Later…

I did 3 more documents. Arthur, Larry and Nicolena. I have 14 more to go. I also finished typing 26 and it’s printing out right now.

The EKG and blood work took no time at all. If it were an Access doctor’s office, I’d still be there. If there ever was a time to be the most grateful I’m not on Access, then that’s today. We picked up 3 Azmacort inhalers and when I went to go pee, I set it on the back of the toilet. I hadn’t assembled it yet, so the tube that contains the medicine rolled off and got flushed down the toilet.

Later…

How nice of them. I just got a card for both of us saying: Happy first Chanukah together - enjoy the season - love David, Evie and Nickolena.

I guess most people do count the start when the knot is tied, cuz technically this is our second Chanukah together.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1994

Tom’s taking a quick shower now while our Hamburger Helper is cooking. It’s simmering right now, actually.

He took the plastic square out of my closet spider trap so its hinges could settle down on their own like the one in the living room. At this time of year, I won’t have to worry about spiders coming down through it. When it gets light I’ll stand in my closet with the door shut and see how much light I see. The attic gets light through the turbines.

After Tom eats, he’ll shave and be off to work at 5:30.

I think I’ll go start another document.

A few more things first. Andy said he was going to have Elaine mail me something from Springfield, so I wouldn’t recognize the handwriting, but he forgot my address. He said he’ll mail it from here, so maybe I’ll hear from him today in the mail. I remember him mentioning a coupon for my coffee, but I don’t know what else he wanted to send. He said there were about 3 things. He did try calling Fran from Springfield, but his phone was disconnected. Is this why he’s been such a good boy? Oh, I hope not cuz that may mean he’ll try calling as soon as he gets a phone. But then why didn’t he try before he lost it? And why hasn’t he tried from someone else’s phone? Maybe he’s in trouble. I always felt it was just a matter of time before he got in big trouble where he’s put away for some time.

I said I was going to let my nails grow out, but I cut them as usual. It’s just so much easier to type and do other stuff with them short. I also cut my bangs. I don’t have the patience to style them every day till they grow out and they looked pretty awful. Later!

Later…

Tom’s on the phone right now talking to Geri who left a message about a computer question.

I straightened up the back room today, dusted and cleaned the bathroom. I want to get some of the rigorous cleaning out of the way, so I don’t have to worry about it during those two weeks after surgery.

I had a hell of a scare today. Well, I did a small load of laundry which I went to hang out to dry. Suddenly it felt like something was jabbing and pinching my lower legs. I figured it was pieces of grass as it’s pretty coarse when it goes dormant. When I looked down, though, there were tons of ants all over me, biting the shit out of me.

I ran in and ran water in the tub all over my legs. I took the clothes and threw them in the pool in the basket afterward. Then I took them out, wrung them out and threw them back in the washer. In the meantime, I have a couple of pairs of socks and underwear out on the line. Tom will get them when it’s light out.

Another taste of Arizona today. The ants back east don’t bite at all. I called Mom cuz I couldn’t call Tom when the ant ordeal went down. She told me to run water all over and put on lotion. I took a long hot bath.

I talked with Tammy, too. Mainly about the surgery. I do have some preoperative jitters. They never called about yesterday’s tests, so I assume all’s OK with me.

I also typed up the Ray document today and more than half of journal 27.

I wrote down my parents, Tammy’s and Andy’s numbers, so Tom can call them from wherever. Either from the hospital or from here at home.

Bob must be hard up for money and stamps. His letters have been dwindling.

Well, I’ve got to get myself to bed real soon, so till tomorrow!

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 3, 1994

I finished typing up 27. I just wrote another letter to Bob and just remembered how I sent him two nice pieces of stationery to use to write to me. Well, I never got them, so no more stationery for him!

It’s so funny, yet amazing to think that this is the last Saturday of my life hearing out of only one ear.

I just remembered that quilt. Shall I try to continue with it? Nah. There’ll only be a problem with it. Some may say that’s a bad attitude, but I’ll wait a while.

Later…

I not only tried to continue with the quilt, but I finished it. It looks fine in front, but in back there are lots of threads and it’s nearly impossible to pick them all out.

I got a birthday card from David, Evie and Nickolena which was nice.

I know this may sound a bit selfish, but I’m kind of hurt that I didn’t get a card from Andy, Larry or Tammy. I know that they’re either broke, busy or in the middle of a crisis but just a card would’ve been nice. I never even got cards from these people when I got married. Well, I still know they care anyway and will probably at least call me.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1994

This is the best birthday of my life. Never have I ever been so spoiled in all my life. Tom took me out to Wal-Mart before the sun came up. I got a 5-drawer dresser and it’s so great to finally have one. Now I no longer have my shorts, halters and nighties shoved in my closets on shelves. I got bigger knitting needles, a CD cleaner, two pairs of jeans and a king-size waterbed foam mattress pad. When we came home we did some filming of the place.

Later…

Well, we got done with round one of great sex and later will be round two. As usual, someone tried to call during round one. They hung up, so I’m sure it was mom & dad.

Andy called to wish me a happy birthday. He was getting ready to go to work. He may be returning to Denny’s cuz it’s dead where he is. I told him that if he does, don’t go back to the same one.

We’re going to go to Red Lobster some other time. Earlier, we made pork chops. I made them while he was assembling the dresser. Now he’s barbecuing steak and I’m going to go do the garlic bread.

Later…

OK, I stuck the garlic bread in. In about 10 minutes we’ll be eating. Now, I’ll begin to expand on today’s events and the stuff I got. One of the pairs of jeans I got is just a regular pair of jeans. They’re petite 3/4, which I don’t even have to hem. The other pair is stretch jeans.

The CD cleaner’s really cool. You place it, play side up in a case. Spray it with the cleaner, shut the case’s cover, and turn this crank. That way a round sponge rotates all around it.

I love the dresser and I really did some rearranging between the closets, the small cardboard 4-drawer thing, and the dresser. It’s brown and matches the bookcase nicely. The one my CDs are on, as well as the ones my journals are on. In the bottom two drawers of the dresser, I have shorts.

Gotta eat now but will resume soon.

Later…

Tom went to bed and I’m winding down now. I’ll fill you in on all the details of today before I go to bed.

The bottom two drawers are shorts, as I said before. The middle is nightgowns and socks. The second is halters and the top drawer is panties and G-strings.

In the 4-drawer cardboard thing, bras are on top. The second is stockings, a slip and two butt wraps. The third is bathing suits and the fourth is costumes from dancing.

We filmed all the rooms in here, but I want to do more in more detail. I forgot to film the earrings I made. I also want to film jewelry, clothes, and my journals in more detail. Then, we’ll do outside the house and a little around the city. I’d really like to film Castles & Coasters and Camelback Mountain in Paradise Valley.

Tonight was a classic example of how everything happens at once. Larry called, then Mom & Dad beeped in, then Tammy beeped in. We all had great talks. It was really great to hear from all of them. However, I’m getting soooo very beat now that I’ll write all about it tomorrow.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1994

Just got in from my pre-op appointment. There’s not much else to say about it till after the surgery. I hope and pray that I not only hear, but that they pull out any clumps of skin, infections, or whatever.

After the appointment, we picked up a few things from the grocery store.

Larry told me that he wanted to do something for my b-day and our wedding, but Sandy’s car died and all kinds of other hectic things were going on. I understood and I know how most people hate to write.

He was in a good mood and told me a funny joke. What’s the difference between O.J. Simpson and Jeffrey Dahmer?

Well, O.J. Simpson only ate one of his victims.

Everyone sounded pretty happy there and I also spoke to Sandy, Jennifer and little Larry. Little Larry isn’t so little anymore. We talked about all kinds of things and Sandy mentioned that they thought of getting a computer, but had no idea of where to begin. I told her Tom knew everything and could help. He was sitting right there and Larry said hi to him real quick.

Larry asked if we did Chanukah or Christmas and I said both. He said, “Happy Merry Chachristmaskah.”

Time for a cigarette now, but I’ll write more later on this and whatever else.

Now I’m going to go listen to music with headphones since I’m not going to be able to do that for a while. Then, maybe I’ll do some more writing. First, though, I got a really nice birthday card from Andy which I copied in 7. There was no stamp or cancellation on the envelope, so he obviously came by and stuck it in the mail slot.

Later…

After this is all over, I sure as hell am going to have some serious letter-writing to do. Sandy and everyone really liked the letter, and we talked about some of the things I do, including drawing. I said I’d send a letter, as well as some drawings and told her I had some scanned into the computer and could print them out.

I wonder what’s been going on with Bob that’s got him writing less and less? He’s probably hard up for money and stamps.

I said that after I finished filling up the end of 7, I would no longer copy them, and would store them in books. Well, just maybe I will write them in blank pages where I didn’t write back to back, seeing that I’ll probably never get any more letters from Kim and very few from Alex and Bob.

Now that I have a king-size foam pad, I’m going to use the twin one as an exercise mat. It really kills my back when I do crunches as well as my hips when I do leg lifts for the outer thighs. I wrapped a sheet around it after folding it in 3. I was going to use it on our very uncomfortable wooden bench swing out back, but instead, I threw a couple of pillows on it. Plus, I’m not on it that often.

Tom tried to call his coworker friend Eileen to give her a pre-op update, but she wasn’t home. He did talk to his mom, though, who asked if I’d need anyone else to hold my hand besides him. He told her no, cuz I’d be pretty out of it anyway. Yeah, I’ll bet. I hope he’s not too bored waiting through all this as psyched as he is. I’ll suggest he gets his mom or someone to keep him company. He’s got 6 people to call from the hospital. Eileen, his parents, my parents, Tammy, Larry and Andy.

The doctor said he’ll hang around till I come to and tell me how everything went, although I won’t remember a word he says. Thank God for Tom as he will be my informer.

I got up at 7:00 this morning and I amazingly napped for about an hour and a half today. Who knows when the hell I’ll fall asleep, but I’m not worried about it as I’m not getting up till 5:00 which is a half-hour before we’ll be leaving here.

I’ve already shaved and done my hair, I can’t eat or drink after midnight, so there’s no point in getting up till the last minute. Just long enough to get somewhat woken up and have a few cigarettes.

I will be able to wash my hair, but not near the bandages, naturally. Tom will help me.

Earlier Marge called to tell me about an Arizona woman who’s to be on either the news or some news show about an operation for hearing, but I’m taping a movie.

I’m going to have to hang low, so I expect to watch a little more TV than usual. As well as writing and typing.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1994

I’m out of surgery now and back home. I am still kind of out of it and cannot stay upright to write for too long. I am quite groggy and my ear is painful and achy. I am taking painkillers for it. My jaw also hurts as he took a piece of muscle from it, so I can not close or open my mouth all the way.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1994

Now that I am starting to feel like a human being once again, I can finally start to write all about the surgery and everything else. Tom woke me up on the morning of the 6th at 5 AM. Of course, I couldn’t eat or drink, so I was hungry and dying for a cup of coffee. I had my cigarettes anyway.

When we got there I signed a few papers. It sure is faster and easier to write out my married name several times than my maiden name as I don’t have to stop to cross and dot t’s and i’s.

Later…

I had to stop earlier as “coming back” has been a slow process. I just had something to eat so I feel better.

Before I get into all that’s gone on I want to say that there are no words to describe how Tom’s been. He is a miracle and even my mom mentioned how unreal he is. So patient, so calm, so loving, so helpful, so understanding, so supportive. He talked with me, cheered me up, and got me food, medicine, and anything I needed to feel more comfortable. I never could’ve gone through this alone in Boston, even if I’d had the money to go back and forth. No one could be as good as Tom’s been through all this. Anyone else would turn on me, unable to deal with it. We are both so much more motivated now in so many different ways. The computer business, singing, the kid, etc.

Got a card with the flowers my parents sent that says: Dear Jodi, we’re so happy for your successful surgery. Love, Mom and Dad.

My parents are really thrilled and happy for me. Yes, I do believe there just might be a possibility that they could be happy for us if we did have a kid and not give us any bullshit.

Tom also spoke to Tammy, Andy, little Larry and his family. His family’s really happy for me, too. I spoke to Tammy twice and Andy once.

Got a letter from Bob today.

Later…

After I signed some papers, they took us back to a little room, which was sectioned off by curtains and sort of looked like an ER. A nurse put my clothes in a bag, which she put in a locker and Tom hung onto my pocketbook. He jokingly asked if people would think he was a fem for carrying a pocketbook.

The nurse also took my vitals and stuff like that. Then the anesthesiologist came in. She was young and pretty and as far as I know all five of them were women except for Dr. Nielsen. There were his two assistants and the surgical nurse as well as the anesthesiologist and the doctor. She put the IV in, then injected something that made me very woozy. I remember hugging Tom, then that was it.

The next thing I knew I was waking up and the nurse said I was moving from stage 1 to stage 2, the last stage of recovery. She gave me an ice chip and I noticed I was quite wet in the middle. I had wet my bed for the first time since I was very little.

I was under for 5 hours and everything went super well. The doctor talked to Tom and one of his assistants did, too.

Shortly after I woke up, I remember touching the nurse’s face and mumbling that I was alive. Then Tom was there. He dressed me and took me home, which is a very vague memory. We got home at around 2:00 in the afternoon. He went to get my prescriptions for painkillers and antibiotics. I dozed off for an hour or two.

The night after surgery, as well as last night, was pretty terrible. I had much more pain, pressure and achiness than I thought I’d have. My head is still swollen, I have a black eye and everything sounds amplified, distorted and a bit bassy. Sort of like when you have a head cold or flu.

Later…

Last night was the worst and I thank God is over. I have a lot of numbness still, but last night I went numb down to my upper arms. That was due to the painkillers. I now take ibuprofen for any pain I have.

Until today I had a pressure strap on my head. It still sort of feels like it’s still there, even though I feel much better now that it’s off.

Last night was so bad that Tom slept with me and amazingly enough, he didn’t wake me up every two seconds. I had the fan on but was lucky to get lots of sleep, which I really needed.

I could swear I almost died last night. My body felt like it was shutting down bit by bit. Tom said he sensed the whole thing too, and knew what was going on. I tried to call out to him, but I couldn’t at first.

A note from Tom: Now it’s time for me (Tom) to write a page in your journal. I know that you are starting to feel better because of the way you were eating cookies just now. You don’t have a fever. I think by tomorrow you will be feeling like your usual hyper-rowdy-playful self. I love you. You have been a wonderful patient these last two days. Remember to take your meds at the proper time.

I forgot to mention that I quickly talked to my parents last night.

Shortly after I got up today, I called the doctor’s office and she said to go ahead and take off the strap. Tom took off the strap and later on he put new gauze on my arm where he did the skin graft. The other one was falling off and all yucky. It was a hell of a sensation when Tom took off the strap and some of the outer packing.

I can already hear sounds!! Just imagine how well I’ll hear when the doctor takes out the inner packing on the 20th of this month. He said my inner ear looked better than he thought it would look. When I block my good ear, I can hear Tom talk. He doesn’t have to yell, either. I could also hear Piggy squeaking with the good ear blocked. I do notice a difference in music, but not much yet cuz of the inner packing and cuz I can’t play it too loud.

My jaw is kind of sore as he had to take a piece of muscle from it. The reason why I was having so much sensitivity was due to lots of scar tissue backed up in there from previous surgeries.

I talked to my parents and Tammy today to let them know about the difference I already have with my hearing. Even if Tom yelled before, there’d have been no way I could’ve heard him with the good ear blocked.

Back when I had all those operations in Boston, I used to save up all the hospital bracelets. Well, this one’s for mom. I’m going to send it to her in the next letter I type them. She and Dad, I mean.

Tom just went to bed. In his room, so we both ensure each other we sleep well again and can move around without disturbing each other. An example of that would be if I listen to music later as I certainly can’t use headphones.

Wow. That plane I just heard that flew by sounded weird.

Now I think I’m going to try to start typing a few letters.

Later…

I just typed up letters to my parents and Tammy. Bob’s will wait till tomorrow.

I forgot to say that not once did I puke or have a bad wheezing spell through all this. Thank God for that much.

One of the cards I got from David & Evie had tulips on it. I tore that part off and turned it into a postcard for my nieces.

It’s funny to sit here and think that if only Fran and Nervous knew about all this. As well as some other people. They’d be shocked. Happy for me, but definitely shocked.

Goldie & Al should be calling within the next few days. I’m sure my parents have filled them in, as well as Boo & Max, Charlotte & Jim and those lovely aunts, uncles and cousins of mine who couldn’t care less.

I hope I’ve remembered all of the important details of all these events. Ma was laughing when I told her how Tom has carried on our lollipop tradition. Right now I’m sucking on butterscotch and watermelon candies.

We both feel this will make a lot of things much easier. Including our sex lives. How I hope to God there’s nothing wrong with either of us. I would not be surprised and I would understand the so-called higher power’s reasons for it, but I still hope all is OK with us.

Later…

God, I haven’t been able to take a dump since the day before the surgery which really sucks. I’m so bloated.

I just listened to a little music and soon I’ll have to take my Theodur as well as the antibiotic. My lungs have been so good. I wonder if that backed-up scar tissue could’ve played a role in making my asthma bad, besides the emotional and environmental situations I was in back east. Also, will having two ears help? Well, it seems to be helping so far.

My numbness and black eye are slowly, but surely beginning to go away. I may go watch TV soon, but I doubt I’ll be up for much longer. I may also copy Bob’s letter in tonight, if not, tomorrow.

The next journal may go quickly. There are only 100 pages and it’s unlined. I’ll use my calligraphy pen for that. Wow, I can still smell the perfume I rubbed onto the back cover of this book from those samples I got in the mail.

Well, now I’m going to go get my next book started which is the marble paper-covered one!

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 9, 1994

I just glued in the card I got from my in-laws in the back cover of my journal. It came with the gorgeous plant they sent. There were 3 cactuses with colored sand below them. It was very Arizona.

I wrote Bob’s letter today and did some journal typing.

I still feel kind of off, but hopefully I’ll feel better tomorrow. I’m getting there little by little.

Tom bought 4 boxes of dye so we can tie-dye some T-shirts. He got neon pink, rose pink, mauve and fuchsia.

Now I’m going to go copy in Bob’s letter I got a couple of days ago in my letter book and I will do more writing later.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 10, 1994

So much for writing later, huh?

Got a Christmas card and a letter from Alex today. I typed him a letter and one to my brother and his family. I also sent about 6 drawings to them.

Linda Ronstadt is supposed to be performing tonight so I’ve set the VCR up.

I’m really glad Tom printed out that list of all the movies Norah’s been in. Now I can just skim through the TV guide in search of those titles and not have to read every single one. It’ll be easier whenever we go to a video store. Now I’ll know what to look for. I also want to print more pictures.

I’m doing a couple of loads of laundry now. After a cigarette, I will explain all about my not-so-pleasant night last night.

Later…

I had been constipated till 3 in the morning last night. I had the runs for over an hour, but I survived it.

I’m back to 99 pounds, but I feel all mushy. I have to make some serious changes when I exercise. The only question is what changes do I make? I only get temporary results and that’s pretty frustrating. For one week there’s a difference and I look and feel great. Then, I seem to lose all those results.

I really liked the idea Alex wrote about in his letter to me. About being video-signing pen pals. He hasn’t gotten a camcorder yet, but he says he plans on it this coming year.

Tomorrow we’re both anxiously excited about screwing. I still wonder if things will change with him. I have my doubts, cuz seeing is believing for me. I know everyone is different, but he sure is different. The last time he was in there he would go really slow, telling me how good it felt, how I had the perfect pussy and it makes him never want to cum. I asked him if it would bother him if I were never able to cum by him in me. He said no and asked me if it would bother me if he never did cum. No, cuz less mess and that shit smells like bleach. Yes, if we’re going to have a kid. He says it’ll be no problem. I know there’s nothing wrong with him, but I hope he’s not just saying he wants a kid. I’m sure he’d say so if he didn’t and he’s always been honest about stuff like that, but if he continues not to cum for too many more months, I will start to wonder. Wonder if he really wants it and if it’s really meant to be. I’m really glad we waited, though, even though we had no idea till a few months ago about the surgery. Sure, with him and his family, we could’ve gone through this with a kid, but it sure is easier when you don’t have to. In the end, I agree with what he said. The less we worry, the easier it’ll be. It’s all in the hands of fate, as they say.

Singing session after next ciggie break.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1994

I had some left-over fried chicken too, besides a smoke.

As for my singing session - well - yesterday afternoon I sang a few songs. It felt so good to do this. I’m weak still, so I had to sing softly. It wasn’t nearly as weak and as shot as I thought it’d be. Also, I surprisingly had no trouble with the higher notes.

Earlier I plucked my eyebrows. I stood standing in the shower while I took the shower massager and shaved my legs. Trimmed some pussy hair, too. Tomorrow I’ll shave my underarms and Tom will help me do my hair.

He’s also going to change the gauze on my ear which I kind of dread. I still have pressure, numbness and swelling there. My jaw and black eye are tremendously better, but very close to my ear is swollen and I have no real feeling yet. It also looks like there are stitches by the top part of the frame. Tom says that from what he can see it looks more natural-looking and I oughta be comfier. The frame seems to have been pulled out like my good ear and is no longer stuck to my head. That’d be great as long as I don’t look too much like a freak, despite my long thick hair as it should make it easier to keep it clean. I hope to hell that soon enough it’s no longer sensitive and tender and that I can sleep on it a hell of a lot easier.

Well, I may as well go see Linda now!

Later…

Good, God! Just when I thought she couldn’t get any worse looking, she does. She looked like a total clown in this big huge baggy all-black thing which I guess was a dress. More like a skirt with a baggy shirt over it. She got sooooo fat and she looks old. She did sing as great and as perfect as always, though. Aaron Neville was doing a 1-hour Christmas concert and she sang 1 song by herself and about 3 with Aaron.

It makes me wonder what Gloria’s looking like these days. I think she looked the best during the Let It Loose album and during Cuts Both Ways.

It’s funny how as I was going through my journals from when I first got here, I realized I was off to a much rougher start than I thought or remembered. All that shit with Mark, Robert, Donna, Rosemarie, Ellie, Stacey and that damn butch next door. Then there was Scott’s shit as well as serious money problems. I’ve certainly paid my dues, though, went through more than enough shit (95% unasked for) and very much deserve how great things have been going for me.

I still sure as hell can’t wait till I’m completely healed up and over this surgery. It’s no fun to have your head rearranged and scrambled for 5 hours.

I forgot to mention earlier that Eileen called to see how I was. She used to work with Tom for a long time and he’s worked on her PC a few times. If I’m remembering right, she has a butch daughter named Robin. Anyway, that was super nice of her to call, and she mentioned our meeting sometime.

I recently revised our to-do and to-get lists. As usual, though, more things have been popping into my head, so one of these days I’ll have to update it.

Tomorrow, we’ll be planting the pink azalea plant I got from my folks in the backyard. We don’t know where yet.

Andy left a message late last night wondering how I was recovering and I left him a message.

Just cuz I’ve always wanted to hear out of two ears will never mean I want to hear kids screaming, but I have a feeling that if Tom and I work out there tomorrow, they’ll be at it. I haven’t heard anything in ages, but for some strange reason, it does seem to happen more so when he’s out there with me. I used to think that was some kind of message, but nah, otherwise he’d have been cumming all along and I wouldn’t be a DES daughter. They say there’s a reason for everything and I certainly believe that. There’s got to be a reason I was “chosen” to be a DES daughter if it isn’t what I’ve always thought the reason was.

We’re not sure, though, if my ear is cuz of the DES. Tom said he thinks it could be some kind of tranquilizer they gave my mother while she was carrying me. My mother taking tranquilizers? I don’t think so. I’m sure she’d refuse that.

Anyway, I’ve done mega writing and I’m beat. Going to go do one more ciggie, then conk my tired little ass out. Can’t wait to see if tomorrow brings any “sex changes.” I’ll write about it nonetheless. Bye for now.

Later…

We just planted the plant by the pool.

Tom’s eating now and I’m going to do the same thing in a minute. Then, he’s going to help me with my hair and with changing the bed.

He scanned in several of those animal drawings I did many months back. They look good.

Later…

Now I feel a lot better. We washed and brushed my hair and Tom changed the outer bandage. It wasn’t painful like I thought it’d be. I still have some numbness, swelling, and breathlessness and sounds are still amplified and bassy, but it’s really improving. My ear looks so much better and more natural. It’s no longer pinned to my head and it’ll be so much easier to clean. I can already tell that the sensitivity and tenderness are much better. It’s amazing how this doctor could do this in one shot in an outpatient part of a regular hospital. Not an eye & ear infirmary.

It’s scary to think of how I’d have felt if I never had the surgery. It makes me more angry than scared. You know how it is when you are on Medicaid and Medicare like I was. You’re treated as a second-class citizen. If Wilcox sent me to a specialist, all they would’ve told me was to bear with it.

Later…

I just typed up letters to my parents and Tammy.

Tom thought my folks were going to call tonight. Yeah, I thought so too. They must be busy. I hope to “hear” from Goldie & Al soon.

I’m having some itching in my ear. I know that’s good and means it’s healing, but it’s obnoxious when you can’t scratch it. It’s better than pain.

I did a little more singing today. It’s still easier than I expected.

We didn’t play around today as I’m still not with it enough, but we will tomorrow.

That’s weird I have way more feeling behind the ear than in my temple area. That part is still pretty numb.

Later…

Please don’t tell me I’m back to being constipated again. If I don’t go by this time tomorrow evening, I’m taking another laxative and I don’t care how dependent I get on them.

Did I mention that Tom wants to start keeping a journal at the first of the year? He wants to do it on the computer. One file per month. He even said he’d let me read it. It’ll be interesting to see what he writes and how he writes.

After I type up the rest of the book I’m currently typing which is 28, I’ll be typing up this one since it’ll be a quickie. I knew it would be, though, and it’s not as easy as I was counting on for me to write small with this pen.

Damn, my ear is itching again. Right in the new opening.

Well, I think I’ll go get some coffee now and go do some more typing.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1994

Got a surprise in the mail today. A letter from Kim. I didn’t think I’d hear from her, but I’m glad I did and it was a nice letter. I typed back all about my birthday, surgery, and Goldie & Al. I also got a letter from Bob and soon enough I’ll respond to that.

Tom went down there today and it felt really good. To be eaten out is my favorite thing and Tom told me it’s his favorite thing to do. Cool. He sure isn’t like most guys, huh?

You wouldn’t believe what also came in the mail today. My records from Mass. General Hospital in Boston. Finally! My memory’s more screwed up than I realized. I thought I had all my operations from age 6-12, but according to them, there are a couple of differences. I guess the first time I went there for a consultation was in ‘75. The surgeries went from ’76-‘78. Tom skimmed through the papers. They also say that one of the last operations was done on June 6th. This is weird cuz I remember how it would always snow and how I’d be glad to miss school. I remember other kids from elementary school sending cards. In 5th grade, they threw me a party. At the same time, though, I have a vague memory of my mom and I walking in our yard. Someone else was there too, but who knows who and it definitely wasn’t winter. Mom and I were kind of crying happy tears as this was supposed to be the end of all my so-called ear ordeals.

There are two other things I didn’t know. I guess I had another ear put on before this one, but it didn’t take and just didn’t work out. There was mention of it being badly infected and I was in the hospital for 36 hours at the time they wrote this. Tom pointed out how they kept calling me “cute.” I guess they really needed to try to cheer me up. I had nice eyes and hair, but I was no cutie.

Also, Pa’s exterminating business had medical insurance for me. I never knew that either. For some reason, I thought it was the March of Dimes who had paid for it.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1994

Thank God I took two dumps a few hours ago (no runs) as I was fixing to pop another laxative. I got quite a bit done and am beginning to feel a whole lot better.

Tom said it makes sense for sounds to sound bassy for a while. Nerves are hearing sounds for the very first time that have never done so before. They have to learn how to channel and filter sounds properly. Also, the part of the brain that operates that ear has never been programmed as to how to deal with sounds. My brain has to program itself.

So, today I began another document for Tom. I’m on the Evie one now. I typed Kim’s letter, but not Bob’s yet. I copied in their letter to me, too. Maybe during the night I’ll finish the Evie document, type Bob’s letter, and do the dishes.

I spoke with Andy for an hour last night and we caught each other up on our lives. He says his cat, which he isn’t supposed to have, is turning out to be a carbon copy of how Shadow was.

Another classic example of what I always used to say - why does it always have to be me to get caught? If it was me living over there trying to hide this cat, I’d have been caught weeks ago.

Well, time for me to go do some other things now. The only question is what do I do? I have a handful of choices, but I haven’t made up my mind yet.

Later…

I sure did lots of writing tonight. Tomorrow I’ll type up the previous book. I should be able to do it that fast. Wow! This book really smells of perfume from those samples. I must’ve rubbed it on good. Anyway, there’s not much to say now, so I’ll sign off.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 1994

I typed up 81 which only took about an hour and a half.

I forgot to say that the day we planted the Azaleas, no kids were screaming. I could hear stuff off in the distance, but not well enough to tell what it was.

Andy may call anytime. He went to meet a date and said he’ll fill me in on it later.

I called my parents and I caught them up on my ear and finished the Evie document.

I never disbelieved Tom when he said he wants a kid, but now I really believe. We talked about all kinds of things earlier.

I took a bath and washed my hair. Tom helped me rinse it. Then he changed the gauze on my arm and ear.

Earlier yesterday morning before he went to work, I had a scare. I was lying on my side in bed, sipping coffee when a spider ran over me. Yuck! Tom came running in with a paper towel and killed it. I asked how he knew to bring in paper towels and how he knew it was a spider. He said, “It’s always a spider when you squeal like that.”

Getting hungry again, so I think I’ll go eat, watch TV, listen to music then maybe get on with typing 29.

Later…

Tom’s up now eating the spag I made.

Andy called last night to let me know he was meeting this guy who sounds like Tom. He hasn’t called, though, so I hope all’s OK. I’m sure it is as I don’t feel anything bad.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 15, 1994

Minnie called earlier. She had an emergency C-section. She had a boy and named it Coty Alan if I spelled it right. She had been busy and lost my number. When she got her bill today with the number on it, she called.

She hasn’t been able to get a ride to see Bob yet.

No more are their temperatures above normal. They’re freezing their asses off. I don’t feel sorry for them, but I wish it were hot here. I want to go swimming and get some color back. I’m white as a ghost again. I wish bee season were now, though, while I’m not in the pool.

My heart’s been beating in a strange way all night. Sort of like in my head, too. I feel the pulsating rush of blood as well as hear it.

Yesterday Andy met that guy that sounds like Tom. He told me this (as best friends do) and I told Tom, who was laughing, that he was hot and the perfect type of guy. He was uncut, though, and would never go for that. I agree. That’s totally gross. A few months ago he said he’s getting more and more of the same “message” I got. I always knew it wasn’t meant for me to be with a woman. I began to sense I was supposed to be with a guy, even though I was so repulsed by that idea till I met Tom. It took a while, but I figured that out cuz of how often I’d get offers from guys. Yes, I know they go after anything and are easy, but if it wasn’t telling me something about guys, I’d not only not have been able to get what I wanted in a woman, but I would’ve gotten fewer hits from men. So, in the end, it wasn’t only telling me no to women, it was saying yes to guys. Andy’s case is different, yet similar. When he said he felt he wasn’t meant to be with a guy, I thought about it. Yeah, that does make sense. Especially at his age. I don’t think something’s trying to tell him something about women, though, cuz he hardly ever gets offers. That could be even scarier and worse off than in my case, but I hope not for his sake.

I began the David document and journal 29 and a Bob letter. Now I’m going to go make some clams in the deep fryer.

Later…

Tom got up, watched the half-hour Sting concert/interview I taped him and now he’s in the shower.

I just did some word puzzles and played with Piggy.

I’m going to try to stay up as late as I can and sleep as late as I can.

I started going through Mass General’s medical papers and 90% of it is all in medical terms I don’t get. Kim might understand lots of it, and I wish I had her medical books. Tom says we can do research and decipher it using the computer. That’s true.

I love how I went from being Hebrew to Jewish, from a student to a child, from being born in Springfield to MA, and from Jody O to Jodi D.

I hope some of the stuff we ordered through Fingerhut and some other place gets here soon.

Now that Tom’s in the shower, I feel the need to shit.

I may or may not have said so before, but I’ve only got 22 journals to type up. Of course, there are going to be 22 more when I get done. Maybe less, though, cuz it’s quicker to type them than it is to write them.

Guess I’ll go get some coffee now and a cigarette.

Later…

This weekend oughta be fun. Tom got two T-shirts to make tie-dye shirts with. He also got more of that decorative plastic used for melting and setting onto molds. Earring hooks, glue, and plaster of Paris.

A little while ago I was working on the David document and soon I’ll finish that up and do a little more typing on 29.

I gave Piggy more pellets, fresh water, and a new house (the box that Tom’s 12-pack of soda came in).

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1994

I finished the David document and did some typing on 29.

After busting my ass for several hours cleaning, I’m doing something I haven’t done in quite a while. Listening to one of my old edit tapes.

Earlier I vacuumed, dusted, cleaned the microwave, washed the dishes, cleaned the bathroom, hammered the front door hinges all the way down, and put a foam strip in the biggest part of the gap in the back door. That’s quite a bit, huh? What a difference that strip makes.

It is absolutely freezing out. It’s in the 40s and the closest to MA it gets. I can see my breath in the air. It definitely froze last night. The scary thing about it is, is that it’s cold enough to snow out there.

I’d really like to do some editing now as it’s been a while, but I’d rather wait till sounds aren’t so weird. Plus, the track that I tape from is fucked up.

I’m trying to stay up as late as I can, so I may go do some more typing.

One more thing. In the hall right outside Tom’s room was a full-length mirror. He didn’t want it put up on his bedroom wall, so I busted it out of its frame and put it on its side in the paneled-over window in the living room. There was still enough room there for our wedding picture, the plates and other knickknacks I’ve got up there. It looks really cool.

Here’s sweet old Laurie H now on tape. Now here’s the CP lady, and earlier I heard the other Laurie lesbian from the Northampton CC. That was the call we made when Andy was here, but I was stuck in Deerfield. Before that was Donna A. Now the tape’s screeching. Now it isn’t. I’m not worried. I have backups of all my edits. As soon as Nervous and Fran came on, it really screeched. I’ll just let it roll through. It’s an old tape that just hasn’t been played in a while. I wish I could magically snap my fingers and have this on CDs. As well as my other stuff, like music.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1994

I just saw the most sickening, cruel, unfair and depressing thing on TV. In a news documentary in India, it shows how not only is it perfectly legal to beat and kill women whose marriages are arranged, but it’s a common, everyday practice to kill baby girls. Because it’s a poor country, girls are considered too expensive and, in their beliefs, and traditions, girls are a curse and inferior to boys. This drives the belief in me, like never before, that God set out to curse women and girls and that life’s not fair. I believe God’s got two things on His mind more and more these days. One, to control the world’s population. Two, to ruin each generation more and more by giving more and more kids to bad people and to people who don’t want them. I see no reason to believe or even think for a second that God would ever give us a child.

I know it’ll always be hard for me to accept never having a kid, but I don’t think I have a choice. Instead, I must put all my energy into stuff that’s real, rather than dwell on something I can’t do anything about.

I’m looking forward to today. We’re going to do up tie-dye shirts and play around.

I was thinking of asking Tom if every now and then he’d say he was cumming when he’s in there. It’d turn me on and make me feel more like a “normal” woman who’s really pleasing him. However, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable and make him feel silly, either.

Got a Christmas card from David and Evie yesterday. Before that, we got one from Geri. Already we have more Christmas cards than I’ve ever gotten in b-day and Chanukah cards combined. It sure is weird having Christmas cards and presents cuz it’s like having two birthdays or two Chanukahs, instead of one of each. It’d be funny if we had a kid in June, cuz then it’d be 3 things in June and 3 in December. December would be my b-day, Christmas and Chanukah. June would be our anniversary, Tom’s b-day and the kid’s b-day.

Tom got a watch and a thank you card from my parents. His card said: thank you for caring. Tom’s never worn watches and I think he said he doesn’t like anything around his wrist, so I hope he likes it. He must as it’s not anywhere to be seen, so he must have it on (he’s asleep now). I laughed when I saw the $175 price tag cuz they never forget to remove price tags.

I think I’ll go watch TV now. I’m sure I’ll find another pregnant woman saying she’s going to poison or feed her baby unhusked rice so it’ll die, but that’s life, huh? Obviously, it’s also what God wants too, if He truly exists. He lets it happen, after all.

Maybe I’ll do some more typing, too, as yesterday I finished the David document and began and finished Wendy’s.

Later…

I completed the Lolita document and worked on 29.

Tom oughta be up anytime now.

I may have a new radio station. Well, for the longest time, I’ve been listening to KOOL FM. They play music from the 60s and early 70s. They also play some 50s. When I was watching TV, a commercial advertised a station that does only the 70s. I wish I knew of one that did the 70s and 80s. Some of the songs suck and others are great, so we’ll see.

Now, it’s off to type more.

Later…

Now I’ve only got about 27 pages left of 29 to type up. I’m at the part where Stacey tried fucking me over. Yup, she had a thing for me that scared her. It also pissed her off cuz she couldn’t and wouldn’t act on it, so she lashed out at me. Just like Nervous, Fran and a lot of guys can be. If they can’t get positive attention, they seek negative attention. It had taken me a while to figure out what was motivating Stacey, but upon reading back on the incident, yes, she had a thing for me. I’ll bet you I was the first one she ever thought of in that way. If not, one of several, and it finally got to her after so long of being able to deal with it.

Boy, Tom’s really catching up on his sleep and must’ve been tired. I just remembered he was to stop over at Eileen’s after work to delete stuff from her computer. Eileen is the one with the gay daughter named Robin. She’s got a husband and 7 kids. Good, God! I wonder if she wanted that many?

The more I analyze a certain situation, the more confusing it seems. You know me, though. I love to analyze stuff. If God’s out to keep me childless, then why keep Tom from cumming? All He has to do is make sure the DES sterilizes me. Is it to make us wait longer for whatever reason? Hmm… how does his not cumming fit into this when I could very well already be sterile? I’m sure I’ve already got all the pieces of the puzzle in my hands. It just takes time to put them all together sometimes. Just like it did for a few other situations. Hopefully, someday it’ll make sense.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1994

Yesterday really did turn out to be great. We made two tie-dye shirts which look really cool. I’m wearing mine now.

We also had two rounds of fun. When I said I couldn’t wait till I could cum by it, he said it looked like we were having a race and that tomorrow, which is now today, he’s going to win it and cum. This I’ve got to see to believe. It feels so good to me, but I’m still improvising and getting used to the feel of it now that I can do it pain and worry-free. It’s hard to be able to touch the whole length of my clit like I do when he’s in there cuz he’s so big that it gets pushed up shorter. He was in deeper than he hardly ever is yesterday and he said that was a great worry now gone from the back of his mind when he saw it didn’t hurt. I also was able to sit down on him with him lying on the floor. For the first time, I went down all the way and was able to rock back and forth. There was no pain, pressure or discomfort.

Andy says Gloria had a baby girl by C-section the day after my b-day. He’s going to bring the article over later, but right now he’s at a friend’s house.

I can’t wait till I can listen to music with headphones. I miss that. I can’t wait till my appointment too, even though I’m nervous about it.

Later…

Tom really likes his watch and is getting used to it. He said they’re going to spoil him, and we agreed I’d thank them for him in my next letter to them.

In a bogus name, I’ve got 10 zoo books coming, a tiger poster and animal stickers. I saw the commercial for it on TV and called it in. It should be here in 4-6 weeks.

I’m not sure if Andy’s still coming or not, but whenever he does, I’ll give him some NPN envelopes. I wish there were a regular mailbox on this street corner here. Then I’d dump off a load every now and then.

Later…

I did a load of laundry, took the garbage out, took a dump, took my meds, and watched part of Charlie’s Angels.

I had a little scare a few hours ago with my ear. I sat down to listen to music when I had an itch behind my earlobe. I felt some wetness, so Tom got up and changed the bandage. We’re not too sure what was oozing, but it didn’t look or smell infectious. We’re sure it’s just normal drainage, but I’m going to call the doctor in 10 minutes anyway. I have no fever or pain, so that’s good.

Andy called during all this and I let him know I’d get back to him later. I left him a message at 4:00. He’s probably sleeping now.

Tom went back to bed.

I washed my jewelry in warm soapy water and now it’s drying on a towel on the kitchen table. I also played some Nintendo games like the duck hunt. I beat my record. Before I could never pass round 13. Today I fouled up at 15. Later I’ll play the racecar game.

I also put hair elastics on 4 of the many wires by the game and the TV. They had been all tangled.

Time for my coffee and to make that call.

Later…

I just spoke to a Dr. Norwalk that’s on call for Dr. Nielsen. He said to see if I can get in to see Dr. Nielsen tomorrow.

I’m a little tired now, so I’m going to go lay down for a while.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1994

I sure slept a long time, which is great. I needed it and it’ll make staying up for tomorrow’s appointment no problem.

Tom’s going to change my gauze when he gets up.

When I got up I took a bath, shaved, and was able to wash my hair all by myself. It was much easier to do in the tub cuz that way I could have both hands free, rather than one of them holding the shower massage.

Yesterday I shortened two bracelets.

We weren’t able to do our little race cuz after I let Tom know I wanted a little tongue action, I got pretty tired. Who knows what will happen today, but I still don’t think he’s ready to let himself cum cuz we’re still not completely over this ordeal. After tomorrow’s appointment, maybe things will be different. It takes time, though, so the latest things could probably change, if Tom’s as sure as he says he is, will be after the 1st of the year.

His mom called wanting an update on my ear. It’s so amazing having all these people who care.

I may call my family tomorrow. It depends on how big of a deal it is. If it’s not, I’ll write them letters tomorrow.

Later…

Sure do have some shocking yet nice stuff to tell. First of all, remember the picture of the little girl I mentioned that Ma picked out for my b-day? Well, I drew it early this morning and it came out good. I wish I had a pink and a flesh-tone colored pencil, though.

We screwed around this morning and as far as Tom’s concerned, he came. What do I think? I don’t know. He seemed like he did by the way he was moving before he did, then suddenly he went limp. I don’t know if anything came out. Maybe a little. He says it varies with him, but has never heard of it leaking out of a woman like pee afterward. It was like that for me with that asshole Ron when I was 21. Tammy agreed it varies.

I asked Tom if he thought that was enough to have a kid and he said he thought it was cuz it’s the sperm count that matters, not the volume of cum. Yeah, I’ve heard that before.

Anyway, sex for both of us has been so much easier and so much fun.

I did the Dureen document today, as well as some journal typing and a letter to Bob.

I don’t know if I said so before, but as of the 1st, stamps will be 32¢. That’s so fucked up. The PO has enough money. They blame it on electronic mail. Yeah, everyone has to blame someone or something for their greed.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1994

I sure do have my share of updating now. I’ve already sent letters to Tammy, my parents, Bob, Kim, Alex and Minnie, but not my brother yet. I figured I’d call him on his birthday and also send him a birthday letter and then I’ll tell him all about it.

About 90% of yesterday’s appointment went great. My arm and most of the skin graft are healing well, but there is a part of the skin graft that didn’t take. The good news is that the doctor’s sure it’ll heal. There are still dissolvable stitches and packing that’s keeping the eardrum still till it heals, so he said it can take 2-6 months to know just how well I’m going to hear. The way I hear now is how you’d hear if you took your hand and covered one of your ears, but not tightly. At this stage, he said it’s supposed to still be muffled and bassy.

In a week or less, the bandage on my arm will come off and that’ll mean it’s healed well enough to be exposed.

It didn’t hurt like I was afraid it would when he took the packing and stitches out. For now, he wants it open and exposed to let it heal better. It doesn’t look too gory, thankfully. I have to put eardrops in it 3 times a day and then once a day, as well as an ointment that keeps it from itching.

The only other bummer that’s a major inconvenience is that I have to keep water away from it, so I still can’t take normal, worry-free showers. Tom has to help wash my hair as well as do the drops and other stuff. He doesn’t mind and he’s been such a miracle through all of this. Again, whether or not you can handle this, there’s no way you can go through this alone with no one helping.

It’s so weird, though, putting drops in that ear when I never could before in my life cuz it was closed up.

Also, for the first time in my life, I can block the good ear, scuff my feet on the carpet and hear it! When Tom was on the phone talking to his mother, I could block the good ear, walk into the bedroom and still hear him!

Later Tom’s going to see if he can pick up a shower cap for times I want to shower without doing my hair. I like baths, but not all the time. He’s also got to pick up some Kleenex as I get some oozing here and there due to the drainage.

I have to return for follow-up appointments on 12/28, 1/5, and 1/10/.

I remembered to tell people this time when I wrote to them what Larry had said – that now I could tell people that something they’ve said to me has gone in one ear and out the other.

Tom’s going to come home from work at noon for the rest of this week, to do my ear drops, then I’ll only need them once a day. Well, that’s the scoop on my ear for now.

Yesterday I finished oldies tape #2, so today I’ll begin #3. Yesterday I got an old song by Paul McCartney and Wings called, Let ‘Em In. I used to love that song and I haven’t heard it in years. I had the 45 of it when I was little. I got lots of other good songs, too.

Andy wants to use the Phase-Out thing for his smokes. I don’t want it to be a hassle for me, so I’ll tell him to pick one day a week that he gets a carton and that’s when I’ll leave it in the screen door for him to use after I show him how, then he can toss it back in the mailbox.

Tom talked to Tammy and Andy yesterday. We tried calling my parents, but they weren’t home.

Later…

I just washed up, changed the bed, and worked out, believe it or not. I’m working out slightly harder due to not doing it for a few weeks.

Tom’s been joking about us having twins. He says he’s not joking, though, and that it’s a gut feeling. We’ll have a boy and a girl. Oh, God! It may sound kind of neat, but I think one’s enough.

I’ve got the tape in the box ready to begin oldies tape #3, but so far they’re playing shitty songs. I think I’ll move the tape to the box in the back room and do some typing.

Tom postponed our going Christmas shopping for his family till tomorrow or the next day.

Yesterday I amazingly fell asleep after only being up for 12 hours and I slept for 10 hours.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1994

Tom woke me up at 3:30, but we decided to do my hair instead of the Christmas shopping. He’ll probably do that himself tomorrow as we don’t want to keep getting me up too many days in a row. In fact, I feel like I could go to sleep for a few more hours.

We were just discussing what Tom’s going to get for his family. He’s going to wrap the presents and I’m going to fill out the nametags with my calligraphy pen.

Now he’s going to be taking a shower, then he’s going to have to do my ear.

Yesterday the Minnie Mouse jaguar blanket came. It’s quite comfy and I’m lying on it now. We’ve got it spread out on the living room floor.

I finished typing 30. I also got 2 songs on Oldies #3. Today I’m going to type up another document for him.

Later…

I typed up the Mary document and now I’m working on Lisa’s.

I just decorated some envelopes. I have a little ruler with shapes cut into it. I traced these shapes on the envelopes and colored some in.

They say it may rain today and I sure hope so, along with others. The pollution due to all the snowbirds coming here has been lousy this last week.

I’m due for my period today but haven’t gotten it yet. I know it’s coming, though, cuz I sure can feel it. I hope I get it tomorrow to shed some of this water off and the tenderness in my breasts. I feel like a blimp.

Before I do some more work on the Lisa document and also journal 31, I think I’ll go listen to music. Throughout the day, I hope to expand on oldies #3 quite a bit.

Later…

I got a lot done today. I did another document. So, now both Mary and Lisa’s are done. I began typing 31 and I updated my journal chart. The one I hang on my bedroom wall.

I just noticed a dime-sized bald spot caused by the pressure strap. Thank God it’s where my bangs are and not the long part and that my hair grows fast.

I tried to call Tammy at 3:30 my time. I guess she really can get a babysitter more easily than she said, cuz some 13-year-old girl answered saying she was with Bill who’s getting treatments. This girl was smart when she said the time differences correctly. Plenty of people in their 20s and 30s don’t get it right. I tried calling again a half-hour ago but got her machine.

I discovered a note from Andy in journal 31 that he wrote on my birthday card in 1992. I copied it in 7. I also think there are a couple of letters we got by mistake but I’m not going to copy them in.

Got a letter from Bob today and one from Kim. She says she understands my situation as far as why I didn’t see her, all’s fine, she agrees with me and she won’t worry if I won’t. She’s also happy for me about my ear. I was really glad to “hear” all this from her.

Copying these letters finished out the remainder of 7, so here’s what I’ll do now. I was asking myself, should I do another book of letters? Keep the originals in a box? Fill up blank pages with them, or put them wherever I am in current journals? Well, I’m going to type them, then print them out and put them in binders just like my typed-up versions of my journals. I’ll print out every 10 pages or so and I won’t type them in all capital letters. I’ll change fonts for every letter.

I’m surprised I haven’t heard from Minnie yet, but I’m sure I will very soon. Maybe not, though, she just had a kid.

The air is still pretty terrible, so I hope it hurries up and rains.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1994

Tom’s taking the day off from work and right now he’s playing computer games. Early this morning he went and got Christmas presents for his family. The people he got presents for are his parents, David and Evie, David and Mary, Ray and Nora, Nickolena (David and Evie’s kid), Mikey (David’s kid from a previous marriage), Jackie, Pam and Ryan (Ray and Nora’s kids) and Jennifer which is Pam’s kid. He got stuff like household stuff mainly.

He says his family’s curious to see my artwork, so he’s going to use my drawings on nametags. It’s amazing to have all these people curious about me. Also, how Tom really thinks I’m a good artist. Most people just don’t care.

If I don’t get my period today, this will be the second time in 1994 that I’ll be two days late. This time around, do I think I’m pregnant? No. I know I’ll get it.

I listened to music a little while ago and now I have the radio on, ready to record any songs I like.

Later…

Tom got more binder reinforces. I have 6 journals done. He also got shower caps and I just took a shower.

Later…

I was sooo horny, but Tom just took care of that.

In a little while, we’re going to work side by side on the two computers.

Later…

I did some typing on the computer and listened to music.

Since 9:00 last night, it’s been raining and I feel a million times better. The air is so much cleaner.

Tom and I tried to call my parents last night and today, but there was no answer.

Tammy called last night and gave the latest scoop on Bill. I really don’t feel he’ll be around past next summer. I have a feeling that he’s going to go next July or August, but I sure hope, for Tammy and the girl’s sake, that I’m way off for the better.

Later…

Tom’s watching a special on Meat Loaf I taped for him.

Soon, we’re going to be eating the Hamburger Helper he made and the garlic bread I made.

We finally got in touch with my parents. They haven’t heard from Goldie and Al either. They said for New Year’s they’re going to be taking part in some comedy show at a hotel. He says he doesn’t know all the details about it yet, but I sure wish I could see that on video.

Dad said Ma’s thinking of getting a computer for the flea market. How much do you want to bet that I inspired her? Also, she knows she can ask Tom and I any questions she may have.

I said Tom could tell them more about my follow-up appointment since, for the most part, I was out of it. He jokes, “You’re always out of it.”

I mentioned how I was shocked that they didn’t have a camcorder and Dad said, “Send us one, then.”

Then Ma said that Tammy said I was in touch with her (as if to say that’s nice of me).

Dad mentioned how each year gets better and better for me. This is so true. It’ll be like - wow! If 1995 is even better, cuz 1994 was so good. I never thought I’d ever say that about any year even though I ain’t got my foot jammed in the door musically.

I typed up letters to Kim and Bob and Tom showed me a better way to use the capping trick so it’ll now cap after question marks and exclamation marks. The only thing it doesn’t cap is certain names as well as the first letter of words beginning paragraphs.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1994

I got up at 5:30 this morning. Tom was already up. Today we watched TV, did some computer work, barbecued a steak, did laundry and screwed. Soon we’re going to wrap the Christmas presents for his family.

I’m two days late again for my period, but then again I’m not. No woman is that consistent with getting it every 28 days. From looking at my chart for 1994, 26-30 days is normal for me. I won’t be officially late till tomorrow evening, but I know I’ll get it. Probably when I wake up.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1994

Tom’s taking a shower now and in a couple of hours, we’ll be heading to his parents' house.

No more laxatives for me. They made me have the runs again.

I took a bath and Tom washed and brushed my hair.

Still no period. Do I think I’m pregnant? No. I think it’s the shock of the surgery and all I’ve been through with it. Or else I’m just late. Either way, I’ll get it by mid-January.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1994

Yesterday sure was a surprise for me. Once again, it’s like having either an extra birthday or an extra Chanukah.

Here’s what Tom’s got: An electronic horse racing game from David and Mary and a magnetic bowl for parts like nails and screws from Mom and Dad.

Here’s what we both got: A calendar and a chicken roaster from David and Evie. A Tupperware container of cookies and candy from Ray and Nora, and a glue gun from Mom and Dad. We each also got a $50 bill in tiny Christmas socks she made with our initials on them. His was red and mine was green. Definitely the first Christmas sock I ever got in my whole life.

Here’s what I got: A clothes hanger that you use to cover clothes with. Especially when you’re traveling. She made it (Mom and Dad). Two, 3-D posters from David and Mary and lots of other stuff mom had. A tie-dye book, various art books and supplies, and two journals! I could tell she had the journals for a while. One of them is like #2 and on the back there was a price tag that said $4.95. That’s what #2 cost back when I got it in early 1988. That was the price of the average journal. Now the average journal is $6.95. The other journal is a bit shorter and narrower, but it’s the thickest one I have with 192 pages. It had a paper cover saying, “The next-to-nothing book.” I took that off and it’s got a blank silver cover. Meaning, it’s all silver. I wrote, “Mystery’s Journal” on it with a permanent marker and then traced over it with a regular ballpoint pen. The funny thing about this is that Ma wrote 3 pages of religious stuff in 1980. I’m going to just leave it in there. Her handwriting sure does look like Tom’s which looks like Bob’s. I did some sketches in it, too.

Later…

Still no period, but Tom and I are certain it’s just due to all my mind and body have gone through due to the surgery and that I’ll get it soon enough.

Guess who called tonight? Fran. Tom answered, not sure who it was, and handed me the phone. Tom’s right. He does sound like Larry in a way. I hung up on him, but the little loser was talking as if nothing ever happened, all cheerful and like I’m his best friend. So now I know why he hasn’t called in so long. He did lose his phone for a handful of months. Andy had told me that when he tried to call him when he was in Springfield, his phone was disconnected.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1994

Today I’m being sort of lazy again. I couldn’t fall asleep till 1 AM, then Tom came to do my ear with the peroxide and ointment at 7:30 before he left for work. I fell back asleep till 9:30. It’s been so much easier to go back to sleep cuz there’s no continual noise. Also, it was pretty hard to fall back asleep when you’re so pissed off at the noisy people around you. This is the best and easiest I’ve slept in years. It’s great not having those two dreaded fears I had for so long before going to bed - Will I wake up with an asthma attack? Who will wake me up?

Amazingly, Fran never did call back again last night. I thought for sure he was going to leave a message or two. I have no desire to ever talk to him or Nervous ever again. I don’t even miss any good times we had, even though there wasn’t a whole heck of a lot of those. I don’t miss our funny talks or desire to tape and edit fights between Fran and Nervous or play games with Nervous. I’ll always love and keep any tapes I do have, but I’ve certainly outgrown them and have moved on.

Later…

I was just going to say that I still haven’t had my period, but I’ve got a couple of spots now. I knew I couldn’t be pregnant. Like God would finally let me have what I want for a change?

Anyway, I’m going to go do some typing now.

Later…

Today was a much better day. I felt more like my old self. For the few days before today, I was either bitchy or energyless.

I’m not sure now if that really was a spot. I had thought I was going to spot, which always leads to my period instantly, but the coast has been as clear as can be. I even put on a panty liner in the early afternoon but ditched it a few hours later. When Tom went down on me earlier he said my pH was fine and that I tasted fine, so that tells me it’s not right around the corner. Well, it may not be, but I can’t say for sure.

I was talking to Andy today for about an hour. When I was mentioning the dizziness and other side effects or alterations due to my surgery, I also subtly mentioned being 5 days late. Then, we went on to discuss how he feels very abandoned by his family and friends back East. No cards, calls, or letters from anyone. Then he said he had gotten a flash about my being pregnant when I said I was 5 days late. Honestly, I can’t see it. Who knows what the future holds, but right now it doesn’t seem real to me and my instincts say it’ll be here before mid-January. I feel like God’s teasing me!

Goldie called an hour or so ago. She thought my surgery was today. I didn’t talk to Al, but she was so happy for me and they’re in Las Vegas. I told her Ma said to call her cuz she didn’t have their number.

I completed the Becky document today and did I mention doing the Steven one a few days ago? Well, I did. I only have 5 documents left. The names are Eileen, Maria, Lamaris, Diane and another name I forgot. I also typed up quite a bit of 31.

Yesterday I took a water pill for the first time in quite a while. It’s great cuz I’m 99 pounds and look like I do after my period.

Now I’ve got no idea what in the world I’m going to do. I’m sick of typing and not in the mood for music and TV, so I’ll have to think of something.

Oh, I forgot to say this before, but I’ve got a current total of 355 letters. That’s a lot of letters!

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1994

I wish I had lots to write about cuz we’re now at the doctor’s office where we’ll be for a very long time.

I had a spot today, so tomorrow I’ll be ragging full blast. Like I said, I knew I could not be pregnant and I know I’ll never be. Am I upset? No. There’s no use in getting upset over something I’ve already known. Also, there are so many positive things about not having a kid as well as having one. I guess this is God’s way of telling us we don’t need to deal with any other burdens.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 29, 1994

I sure did get a lot done today. I finished typing 31 and 82, the previous one. I also typed letters to my parents, Larry, Kim, Bob, and Minnie. Yesterday I typed one for Tammy and maybe tomorrow I’ll do one for Alex.

Yesterday I also got my period full blast. It wasn’t as easy to accept as I thought it’d be, either. Despite any fears or doubts, I really do want a kid.

The doctor’s appointment went OK. There is still a part of the skin graft that isn’t taking, but he really feels it’ll heal. We’re going to buy all the time we can to avoid another operation. There’s exposed bone in there now by the eardrum, but hopefully it’ll stay infection-free. I know if I had to have another operation, it’d be a joke compared to what I already went through, but I sure hope not!

As I was typing up the previous book, I noticed a few things I forgot to update on. We lazed out of putting my drawings on people’s Christmas name tags, for example. We both ended up wrapping the gifts together and I wrote out names with my calligraphy pen on small pieces of paper, which I taped onto the gifts.

Yesterday the doctor did give me some good news. I can now wear headphones and wow! It’s pretty cool. I can shower now too, but I have to stuff a cotton ball in it and make sure that ear doesn’t get filled with water. He doesn’t care about the outside, though.

I also typed up Bob’s letter I got yesterday and put it in a binder.

On January 2nd we’re planning on going out holiday shopping for each other.

We got a catalog today in the mail with all kinds of porn videos and toys and lotions and clothes. It looks kind of interesting and we may get stuff to spice things up even more, not that we’re bored.

Tom insists he was not kidding when he said he came back when I wrote about it in journal 82. Whatever.

I know I’ve got more to write about that’s slipped my mind at the moment, but I will after I watch TV. Oh yeah. I updated our list of stuff to do and get. Also, this Sunday morning, there’ll be two movies with Norah in them. Local Hero, which I’ve only got part of cuz the cable had been fucked up, and Deadly Game which I’ve never seen. I’ll expand more on this later, but I sure hope she doesn’t have short hair!

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 30, 1994

I’m dealing with a part of Tom that’s very typical male and the only thing I miss about women. Male BO and male sloppiness. It’s not that he ever stunk so bad that I couldn’t get near him, but the scent in his room is far from feminine. I highly doubt he changes his sheets weekly as he once said he did. In fact, I’ve never seen him do sheets. It smells like it could be drool buildup, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve asked him before, and I’m going to try to see if he’ll let me in there to dust, vacuum and wipe surfaces. It’s just that he really really is hung up on living in filth. He really does like it. One time he spilled some soda and I offered to clean it for him and he was like, no, no, no. The longer that sets in, the harder it’ll be to clean, but he really likes that. I know how sensitive he is and want him to be himself, but we’ve compromised on other things, so I’m sure we can compromise with this. I’ve decided fair is fair, though, so I’m going to make a serious effort to smoke outside.

Tom made the period chart for 1995. Yeah, I’m sure to get each and every one of them, too.

Also, there’s a sex chart in the front of this book. It’s just something to do and I’m curious to see how often we screw. At the end of the year, it oughta be neat to see what the pattern is if there is any.

Tom reminded me that if I want to watch the ball go down in Times Square, I’ll have to watch it at 10 PM. No wonder I couldn’t find it when I searched for it my first new year here when it turned 1993. How stupid of me.

For a half-hour to 45 minutes, next door really got on my nerves and it wasn’t the kids, either. At about 10:30 last night, the guy drove in his somewhat loud van which is parked directly outside my bedroom window. After a couple of minutes, he slammed the door after he got out, then came right back out and I could hear it running. At first I thought maybe he and the wife got into a fight and he ran out into the van, turned it on for heat, but was too mad to go anywhere. I peeked out after a half-hour or so and saw him approaching the van in a business suit, then he left.

The pigs must be hot on someone’s tail right now. I hear helicopters swarming around out there. It doesn’t bother me, but they sure must be desperate.

Earlier I watched a really good movie and I can’t wait to see Deadly Game. I hope she’s got lots of scenes and that her hair’s not short and that I can create some pictures from it. I have gaps still on my bedroom walls that need filling up.

Later…

Tonight sure was my night for phone calls. Minnie called telling me never to have a kid cuz she can’t get no sleep. Marjorie called wanting to know about my ear but didn’t need to talk to Tom. She was telling me that there was a massive shootout last night in this area. That explains the helicopters.

These people next door are really getting to me again. It’s better than the kids screaming, but why must they constantly run their van for so long so many times a day? Can’t they just come and go normally?

Later…

I just took a break to listen to music and I didn’t feel like writing to the tune of that van. It’ll start up again any second.

Larry called and we had a good talk. He wanted to know about my ear and he told me a couple of funny jokes.

He was joking around and said there was a guy he knew who burned his eyelid lighting a cigarette and the only place they could do a skin graft was from his dick, so now he’s walking around cockeyed.

The other joke is something about taking two typewriters and having someone type on each one. Then they can be stereotyping.

More on our talk after a cigarette.

Later…

Wow! Out of the 365 days in 1994, I had my period for 37 days.

Tom ate me out earlier, but it’s not going on the chart yet, of course, cuz it’s not quite 1995.

I took both of our measurements earlier and I’m going to write them in soon. I’ll probably use blank sides of pages in previous books.

Larry’s going to stay home with his family for New Year. I was telling him how Tom told me that if I want to watch the ball go down at Times Square, I’ll have to watch it at 10 PM here. No wonder I couldn’t find it on TV here when I turned it on to watch it at midnight for my first new year here which was 1993.

He says it’s continuing to get worse in Springfield and Hartford and that there were 4 murders in Hartford alone today. What else is new?

He said he talked to Tammy and it was all about Bill. He said he wouldn’t wish what he’s going through on his worst enemy, but that it’s not his idea of a conversation, especially with a weak stomach.

I asked him what I should say if she were to ask me for his number. He says he’s still not ready to deal with her, doesn’t want her to call, and says to say I don’t have the number so her feelings aren’t hurt. OK, I can respect that.

Then, he asked me if I’d heard from Jenny (Jenny C). I said no and that as far as I knew she was supposed to hate me. Larry said she knows the past is the past and that she and I were naïve. He’s giving her my number, he says, and she can call if she wants to. At this point, no I’d never want to resume a full-time friendship with her, but I can handle a phone call. Also, in this day and age, I’d rather be dumped or rejected by 10 people than have to fight with one.

I know I never thought my brother would ever call me, but I’m almost sure Jenny won’t. She probably sees no point in it. Especially with me so far away now.

How do I feel? Well, it really doesn’t matter if she calls or not. It’s up to her. I mean, we just never had all that much in common.

I think that’s all the major things he told me.

Tom understood fully well about my written request I left to clean his room when I got up today. I changed his sheets, dusted and vacuumed and now that foul smell is gone.

I got a quick note from Kim today, passing along the cow confetti she got from her cousin in Texas for me to pass on to whomever. I typed up a letter to Alex, so he’s getting it. I also typed up the Diane document and have 3 left - Eileen, Maria, and Lamaris.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 31, 1994

Tom’s out fixing Eileen’s daughter Robin’s computer now and I hope he’s back by 6:00 so he can tape 6 hours’ worth of stuff in his room so I can watch the ball go down tonight. If not, I’ll start it in the living room and at some point after he’s home, I can have him swap it during a commercial. Tomorrow morning we’re going to tape the two Norah movies on two different tapes on SP in the living room. He’s going to tape them on 1 tape on SLP in his room.

Last night I began to type up 32, so now there’s nothing left to do before 1993. I’m at 1/15 shortly after I began dancing. Instead of highlighting the entry dates with markers after I print it out, there’s a bold button you can hit that does it for you.

I went around and changed all the calendars.

I just had a good idea. When I highlight entry dates in these journals, I’ll change colors every month. The colors I currently have are green, pink, blue and yellow. I just used green, so I’ll use pink for Jan., blue for Feb., and yellow for March.

My tan lines are almost gone, but my hair remains somewhat lighter. Especially at the ends and I’ve got a lot of red/gold highlights.

Last night after he finally shut the van off I heard the van door slide shut 3 times or so. I wonder if they’re taking off, but I doubt it. This is a very “homey” family, except for church on Sundays, and that month they went to Idaho.

I sure hope to hell he ain’t running that van tonight when I’m watching the ball go down. Especially if Tom and I do anything as far as sex goes. That really breaks my concentration.

I was a little slow last night when I was talking to Larry. When I mentioned the vacuuming of my ear, he goes, “That must’ve sucked.” I got the joke later on, though.

I thought about it and I realized he may have already given Jenny my number. Why else would he ask if I’ve heard from her? There’d be no way for her to get the number otherwise.

Later…

Tom got home in time to tape those movies, and he threw my comforter in the dryer.

In exchange for working on the computer today, they gave him a game called Myst. You search through all these places and uncover whatever. It’s pretty weird so far. It’s also got a soft-covered 60-page journal for you to write in clues you observe.

We’re waiting for the food to arrive that we ordered. Pizzas, veggie sticks and fried mushrooms. The veggie sticks are fried, too.

I left Andy a message.

Later…

Dinner arrived and we ate. The veggies did turn out to be raw carrots, but they were good, and I gave some to Piggy.

I played some more of that Myst game. Sure is weird.

Mom and Dad called, and Dad said they did go to that hotel and he danced and sang. I wish I could’ve seen that or could get some pictures. They also wished us a happy new year.

Current Location: Arizona

[truthdarespinbottles]

So jealous you got the cardigan omg!! What do you mean by grwoing up solidly "middle class" like what does that consist of? And what do you mean your mom was lower middle class?

My mom grew up comfortable, but with few to no luxuries - my mom grew up in the 70s and was the youngest of six kids; if she wanted nice, new clothing that wasn't a hand-me-down or something a friend lent her, she had to earn the money and/or make it herself because there wasn't a lot of money to spare. She has some pictures where she creatively styled hand-me-downs from her older brothers. My grandparents all grew up during the Great Depression, and were anxious about money. My mom always knew where her next meal was coming from, but never traveled beyond her California suburb unless it was a school trip to San Francisco a couple hours away (which she always earned scholarships for) or to her grandparents' house in Nevada.

By solidly middle class, I mean I grew up more comfortably in the 2000s. I grew up in Iowa and we went camping and visited theme parks in Wisconsin Dells every summer. I'm the fourth kid out of five but while I had my share of hand-me-downs, I also got my own new clothes. My sisters and I were able to do sports every year and had piano lessons. If something needed repairs, my parents had savings to help cover the costs and could make payments on loans. My dad worked full time and my mom worked part-time once my little brother started kindergarten. The recession in '08 really hurt us financially, I remember that, but my paternal grandparents were able to help us out.

In the 2010s my dad got a big shot job in his field, we moved across the country to Las Vegas, and suddenly we could afford nicer things. We had a pool!! I went to Disneyland for the first time, and when I was a senior in high school my parents got me a really good second-hand car that I drove until it got totaled by a texting teenager a few years ago. My dad has gotten a few promotions since and has actually become a semi-public figure. He was featured in a magazine for his field a couple months ago and was a driving force behind getting covid vaccines to the homeless in Las Vegas. My mom has become a bit bougie - she gets her dogs those monthly subscription boxes with special treats and toys, she got me and my husband our eras tour tickets for Christmas back in 2022, and she goes to Disneyland with her sister at least once a year since that's something they could only dream of doing as kids.

My family is very privileged, but my mom has experienced a wide range of financial situations. She clipped coupons with her mom every week as a teenager, but today she doesn't have to think about how much she spends on groceries unless she's getting, like, super high quality steak or something abnormally expensive.

[tjnewsnigeria]

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[mountphoenixrp]

The Sunshine Festival is coming up fast! In preparation, you can find the program for the market and concert stage below!

Market Booths:

The Flower Mill Goods/Services: An assortment of baked goods (sunshine shaped eggtart, songpyeon, sunshine macaron), caramel cold brew, and iced coffee.

Honeypot Brewery & Tapas Goods/Services: Aqua fresca (strawberry, cucumber, lime), burritos, and ceviche. Specials: Double Trouble coupons: for two people to enjoy a full Mexican-style meal for the price of one; city trivia game prize winner will receive ultra special prize.

Ice Ice Baby Goods/Services: Gourmet ice cream! Specials: Buy one, get one free single scoop cones; 20% off ice cream sundaes.

Spilled Tea Goods/Services: Strawberry, Lychee, and Matcha boba tea and herbal tea bags for sell. Specials: Buy three tea bags, get one free.

Sweet Spot (Eros’ pop up chocolate and sweets booth) Goods/Services: Fine flower and fruit infused chocolates, light sweet confections, dipped fruit, “love dust”, and love advice. Specials: Archery target practice game with prizes for romantic dates.

Dagger & Roses Goods/Services: Custom jewelry and weapons commissions. Specials: 30% for commission orders placed at the festival. Metalwork classes bundles (sign up for 3 classes, get 2 additional sessions free).

Jinxxed Goods/Services: Bone/tea/tarot readings, candle blessings, spell pouch making. Specials: 40% off crystals with proof of reading(s); free admission to one full moon ritual.

Halo Salon & Spa Goods/Services: Shoulder massages, hair trims, and manicures. Specials: 20% off your next visit coupons handed out to every customer.

Maibee Art Goods/Services: Handmade home decor, jewellery, personalized gifts and other art. Will be live painting. Specials: 15% off of everything; free hedgehog or bee charm with every purchase.

Stop&Paws Goods/Services: Mini grooming service (brush out & bandannas/bows for pets); “Meet the Adoptables” pen; and a pet cool down station with water dishes and a small pool. Specials: $10 mini grooming service; 20% off adoption fee for all animals at the festival; free pet treats.

Performers:

HEXED (Claire, Cassandra & Charlotte), rock band

HEXED will be headlining the festival, playing a set of their best songs (so far) every day. Fans might even get a sneak peak of a song or two off their up-coming album...

Stargazers Group (Heather, Dakota, Hunter & Invidia), singing

The group will be performing covers of popular songs like MILLION DOLLAR BABY (Tommy Richman), Too Sweet (Hozier), and Oui ou non (BRÖ).

Esther Yu, piano performance

Esther will perform Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter, Naked in Mahattan by Chappelle Roan, and I Can Do It With A Broken Heart by Taylor Swift.

Vulpe Blanford, piano performance

Vulpe will perform a piano rearrangement of the La La Land soundtrack.

Please use this information to plot with as many people as you would like! Employees and performers can have threads where they are working/performing and threads during their days off at the festival, if you’d like.

There is no time limit for threads, but the event will only officially last a week, so make sure to start your threads or whatever else you have in mind once it begins! And please be sure to post all event-related threads in the designated Discord channel.

Most importantly, of course, have fun!