#which is worse now that I barely know any of the people who all pitched in to get it anymore bc we all drifted

[yaminerua]

I don’t know why my brain won’t just let me accept other people’s willing generosity ;;;

when I was at that wedding catching up with extended family members I haven’t seen in a long time they were asking what I was doing and how my art was going and I said it was kind of on pause since I haven’t had anything to do my digital art on for ages now and they were like oh don’t worry about that we can get you something and I just was automatically like aaaah no it’s fine you don’t need to spend that money on me;;;

bc I don’t like feeling like I’m putting someone out of pocket or like I’m asking/expecting charity. I guess its like I don’t feel I’m worth people spending money on me;; So I ended up shutting down what had probably been a genuinely well meaning offer to help out ;;

[kiame-sama]

For those angry about Malleus' temper and behavior in my AU and are bombarding my ask box about it and even trying to threaten me that it is isn't cannon (except Malleus has a shit ton of canonical yandere tendencies and this is a fucking AU WHICH IS NOT CANON), read the below statements. For those that want the HAE AU intricacies slowly brought up in the story itself, don't read because it may spoil some things I haven't written yet.

Spoilers for chapter 8, 11, and others of the HAE AU

Okay, I'm going to say this as clearly as possible because either I haven't done well enough job hinting at the truth/ it is too early in the story to really get into the meat/ or people really just don't suspend their disbelief to look past surface level and deep-dive into text anymore;

HAE MALLEUS IS YANDERE AND ACTS LIKE IT. All Dragons have yandere tendencies and in my AU they are all canonical yanderes. They have Hoards for a reason and those in the Hoard don't fight for that same reason. Malleus' Hoard is beholden to Malleus because 'Survival of the Fittest' is the main ruler of the HAE AU. Malleus is barely into adulthood in terms of Dragons and is already leaps and bounds above the rest in terms of skill, strength, and ability. He IS the fittest as far as NRC and the Hoard are concerned, there is a reason only those stronger than him or those he values can direct him to do anything without direct retaliation. They all have their primary animalistic instincts despite claiming to be above them because they all evolved hand in hand with their instincts and magic.

Malleus is instinctually programed to be yandere and that includes being yandere over his Hoard as well. Silver, Sebek, and Lilia all know the rules of the Hoard because they have all been in Malleus' Hoard for an extended period of time, that is why they go straight to Malleus when they are presented with certain behavior from the Human.

The Human is new to the Hoard and knows next to none of the inherent rules that come with being in a Hoard to a Dragon like Malleus. This is why the Human won't go straight to Malleus if propositioned by any of the NRC guys because they have no idea that is a rule Hoard members need to follow. They are learning the rules slowly and beginning to realize the rules are for the Hoard's safety from the inherent yandere behavior as well as the Dragon's safety of staying sane. The Human is only JUST NOW realizing that these monster men are unhealthy in their growing obsessions and that there is a genuine obsessive drive to behave this way BECAUSE OF THE HUMAN. Now, this is by no fault of the Human- it is a result of their own natural ability among monsters- but their simple presence among these monster-men is making it worse.

Overblot is a result of magic waste and negative emotions, in my AU, the yandere emotions and tendencies they feel are a direct contributor to Overblotting.

Riddle- who was NOT yandere before meeting the Human- was quickly consumed by the yandere behavior because he was not used to the feeling of such poisonous possessiveness and it overtook him the moment he thought he was losing what was never his.

Malleus got closest to Overblotting when he thought Leona killed the Human. Grim interrupting and revealing the Human is still alive was enough to break through that rage and make Malleus take the reigns once more over his behavior. His yandere tendencies were reaching a fever pitch because he believed he lost what he sees as his most precious belonging; the Human. He is instinctually programed to view others as belongings, he is a Dragon, he has no choice. The only way Malleus can Overblot in this AU is the genuine belief his Human, Lilia, or the entirety of his Hoard is dead. His Hoard is who he has chosen to obsess over, because instinct dictates that he needs to obsess. The Hoard allows him to let these yandere tendencies breathe in a way that- isn't really healthy for anyone, but healthier for him- prevents a catastrophic meltdown response from Malleus. He could theoretically lose Silver or Sebek from the Hoard because his two crown jewels- The Human and Lilia- are still there. Sebek and Silver are Jewels, but not the Crown Jewels of the Hoard. Losing Lilia would be devastating to Malleus, but he could pull through without an Overblot so long as he has the Human and his two retainers to calm him and soothe that yandere ache. Losing the Human will invariably result in an Overblot even with Lilia, Sebek, and Silver still present because the Human is Malleus' chosen greatest treasure. The coup de grâce for his Hoard and his chosen Crown Jewel that embodies his Hoard is the Human. Lilia is a Jewel in the crown, but not the main Jewel.

Many of the NRC guys are not inherently yandere, they are becoming yandere. Through a mixture of scarcity (only one Human) and literal addiction (Humans are more addictive to the monster men than Meth), the NRC guys are unwillingly falling into yandere patterns without realizing it. Malleus was already Yandere before the addiction to the Human set in, he can parlay with his Yandere behavior better than the others because he is used to it. He is used to it becuase the yandere behavior is already a core part of his instincts.

Those who are not yandere and have no yandere tendencies are more susceptible to overblotting because of that yandere factor slowly consuming them. Riddle crashed out after a few days under the stress of his newly formed addiction. Kalim is in big trouble because he is a genuinely good guy and doesn't naturally have those yandere instincts. Those who are new to these yandere tendencies are doomed to be consumed by them if they aren't able to keep themselves above their own primal hunger and addiction.

Those who are turning yandere are doing so based on the time they spend with the Human. The more time spent, the further they fall. Those who were already yandere can play their yandere behavior because they are mostly used to it, but the more time they spend with the Human, the worse it gets.

Silver and Sebek were not yandere from the start, they are getting there and they understand now why Malleus is the way he is. Lilia already had those tendencies long before he even got to hold a baby Malleus on top of having already spent time among Humans, he is willingly sauntering downwards into his addiction and obsession. By staying with Malleus, Lilia knows he is more likely to get his hands on the Human Malleus has claimed as a Hoard member. Malleus won't fight sharing, but he refuses to be cut out entirely. Lilia is playing him for this reason and because he ultimately cares about Malleus.

[alovesreading]

Nice Kind Of Messy

Summary: Your friends set you up on a blind date, one that you aren't really looking forward to at all but when you find George Daniel there waiting outside the restaurant, there is no doubt it'll be a date to remember.

Word Count: 16.7k 

Warnings: smut.

A/N: So I wrote this as part of my Alex series but I figured I should turn it into a one shot so my George girlies could read it without having to commit to a long Alex Turner fic lol It took me a while to get it ready on one shot form but I hope you enjoy now that it's here hehehe xx

Masterlist

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You wake up that morning quite nervous. Your excitement makes you shiver in anticipation but the feeling brushes the line of anxiety and it’s rather overwhelming.

You’ve not been really looking to date lately, there hasn’t been any type of enthusiasm when hinted about putting yourself out there again since you got cheated on by your ex boyfriend. You couldn’t be arsed about it—the whole process of actively trying to look for a person that you felt was right and suited what you at least felt was the bare minimum was exhausting just to think about.

Going out with your friends was almost always a failed mission. They tried to get you out on the pull with them but you ended up straying back to the table and waving them goodbye when they came back with someone hanging from their arm, winking at them as if to wish them a good night.

They had only been lucky to send you off with someone a handful of times, but despite their best efforts to push you to pursue those who you had spent a night with, you had left them as that: a one night stand.

So they had used a new method this time, which entailed the fact that they had apparently been scheming about behind your back for a few weeks. You had only found out when you were having a wine night with them over at your flat, your jaw dropping and brows furrowing when they let you know they had made a reservation at a certain restaurant in Covent Garden so that you could meet up with someone they swore was the perfect match for you.

“It’s a blind date, we can’t tell you,” said one of your friends with a wicked grin on her face, sipping on her wine as you took the time to glare at your other two friends sitting on your settee.

They only offered you gallic shrugs and giggles, bubbly and high pitched which unfortunately managed to tug at the corners of your lips until they formed a smile.

A happy, “You’re excited then?” made you realize what you were doing, so you took a gulp of your wine and shook your head in disagreement as you swallowed.

“No, I’m just confused.” You really were, it was worse you didn’t have a clue who it could be because there wasn’t really anyone you think had shown interest towards you that you all knew. “Am I allowed to back out?”

You hoped you could, even if a meal at a restaurant you had been dying to go to for ages paid by one of them was on the cards here, but you were truly wary about throwing yourself into a situation where you actually had to put yourself in the dating mindset.

As you cursed your stupid cheating scum of an ex for ruining the prospect of dating for you, your friends shook their heads and said, “No.” in unison.

And they unfortunately went on to explain how your date knew about it already and had cleared their schedule for it to happen, and since you were an awful people pleaser, you sighed in defeat and agreed to go.

So there you are, slowly making your way to your kitchen to make yourself breakfast, despite the nerves making your stomach flip constantly and making you nauseous. Slowly you eat, slowly you wash your dishes and put them away.

You do everything slowly that day, taking a long shower and lounging in bed, still in your robe and letting your hair air dry. The date wasn’t until four so you still had time, and you figured if you went about it at a steady pace, then by the time you were fully ready you would have to leave and there wouldn’t really be a long space of time for you to bail out at the last minute.

By the time it hits noon, you’re doing your hair. Straightening it and curling the ends leisurely, humming along the music you’re playing on your speakers which is interrupted by a call.

“Good afternoon Miss Y/L/N, are you ready for today?” One of your friends greets you with a chipper tone in her voice, you could practically see the beaming smile on her face just from her voice.

Biting on your bottom lip, you let the phone rest on your lap as you continue with the next section of hair and shyly admit, “I’m actually nervous…”

The way she coos at you makes you roll your eyes but there’s a wave of consolation that comes over you when she says, “Good but also don’t be. He’s an absolute dream.”

The tiny piece of information actually makes you more curious about who he is, so you try your chances again as you ask, “Are you finally gonna tell me who it is?”

You had been trying all week to get anything out of your friends but they had been surprisingly good at keeping this one secret under a lock. And this time wouldn’t be different since you only get a vague, “All you have to know is that he’s fit and I know you’ll get on with him perfectly well.”

At least the reassurance that you and him would get on well eases your nerves a little. Not as much as you would like though, but that’s because you know yourself and when you first meet anyone, you get shy and a bit awkward, so you’re praying that you'll be able to get a bit of courage not to make a fool out of yourself.

Thankfully your friend stays on the phone with you as you finish doing your hair and you actually facetime her when you’re doing your makeup. She keeps making you laugh throughout it all and somehow makes you forget about how tense you had been for a bit.

Her boyfriend, Matty, comes back to her flat from a meeting right as you’re showing your friend the dress you’re wearing for the date and, to her dismay, he almost slips and tells you who it is that you’re seeing in merely an hour from now.

“Matthew!” She exclaims loudly before the name can fall from his lips and he quickly throws his hand over his mouth with wide eyes.

His honest, “I’m so sorry.” sounds muffled behind his hand and it only gets an eye roll from your friend which makes you laugh.

But you are gutted that your only chance to find out is gone that way. You whine as you complain, “Why do you react so quickly?”

Your friend takes her boyfriend’s close mishap as a sign to let you go though, completely ignoring your complaint to remind you, “You’re gonna have to get faster Miss, it’s quarter past three and it’s a twenty five minute walk over there.”

“Shit, right.” You curse under your breath, realizing you need to get dressed already and leave as soon as you can so you aren't late.

“You look fucking stunning, babe.” She states with confidence, reassuring you since you seem to start growing panicky, “I’m gonna leave you now so you can change but you have the best time Y/N/N, alright?”

You purse your lips at the camera and clutch your chest, “Thanks hun, love you.”

She grins sweetly at you and reciprocates, “Love you too. And let me know how it goes, alright?”

“Will do, but I don’t promise anything too interesting.” You make sure to make that point clear, you don’t have much expectations for the date just so you don’t end up feeling defeated for it not meeting whatever you could imagine it to be if you allowed yourself to.

But your friend is in heavy doubt of it not being interesting considering she knows who you are meeting with. So she shrugs as she smirks, “Yeah, well… We shall see about that.”

It’s the way that she looks like she’s trying not to laugh that has you narrowing your eyes at her, “What?”

Question that isn’t answered because she plays dumb and simply says, “Okay byeee! Love you!” loudly, blowing you a kiss before hanging up the phone.

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You walk the best you can in your high heeled boots which were not a great pick when mixed with how nervous you are and how far you had to walk. You had debated getting a taxi when you were locking up your flat but decided against it when you realized that if you did, you’d get there quicker and you wanted to stall as much as you could.

You aren’t even late yet, ten minutes left for the clocks to strike four in the afternoon and you are merely five minutes away. The whole walk, you had been practicing in your head whatever you could say to the guy you were meeting with, just to prevent embarrassing yourself. If anything went wrong though, you had brought your camera with you and a few rolls were stuffed in your pocket so that you could at least take the opportunity to take pictures.

In your head, you had gone from any topics you could come up with about yourself, deciding against being the one to mention your tragic love life and picking a few questions that could be interesting to ask your date.

But all the inquiries and words you had been rehearsing die in your throat when you round the corner at the end of the restaurant’s street and you see the tall dirty blonde smoking a cigarette, leaning on a lamppost right by the entrance of the establishment.

You think of making a run back to your building, hesitating which way would be easiest to go and how it would work with your long dress but his eyes fall on you before you can make up your mind and when he smiles sweetly at you, cigarette perched between his lips, you know it’s too late.

On your face a shy smile breaks and you give him a little wave before approaching him, faking confidence as you get closer until he’s only a few feet away so you say, “Oh hi, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Your face is burning up and you know he can see your flustered demeanor because he smirks down at you, and cheekily asks, “Were you hoping for someone else?”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you smile harder at his playfulness and in a rush of bravery you choose to play along, “Do you really want to know the answer?”

He takes a drag of his cigarette and lets the smoke out steadily as he shakes his head, “I’m just hoping you remember my name.”

And how could you forget, “Of course I remember you, George.”

George hums, taking one last drag of his smoke as he takes in your appearance and he’s grinning mischievously when seeing the dark satin and lace of your dress contrasting on your skin, your leather jacket making you look even more stunning and coincidentally matching the one he’s wearing.

“Glad you haven’t, Y/N.” The drummer replies with a wink, dropping the bud on the ground and stepping on it before taking something out of the pocket of his dark jeans, “Y/F/N sent this for you.”

An involuntary “Oh.” falls from your lips, entirely intrigued by what it can be that your friend had wanted to tell you that couldn’t be said on the phone because George hands you a folded piece of paper that only says Y/N/N x on the front.

You carefully open it, trying your best to avoid George seeing it—which is a bit of an issue since he’s so tall he can easily read if he looks down—and you instantly blush harder when you read Get the nice kind of messy ;) x

A flashback of the moment at Glastonbury when you had been gawking at George and you had let slip how fit you found him comes to the forefront of your mind and you can’t help yourself getting a little flustered at the mere thought of it.

“He’s fit as fuck.” Your eyes are unable to move from his figure, the way his muscles contract and define with every hit of the drums and the facial expressions he makes as he plays.

Your friend snorts in laughter and leans in to ask further, “Oh, so you fancy George then?”

You stutter as you try to come up with a response, “I mean… Look at him!” You’re entirely entranced by it all and it doesn’t help that he’s covered in a thin coat of sweat already, only three songs into their set, so his white top is slowly becoming translucent and sticking to his body.

It’s like your brain is shutting down and all that it can register is the look of the drummer because it takes you a few long seconds to realize your friend has teasingly said, “I’ll make sure to relay that message.”

“Oh, no, don’t.” The panic of that happening is the one thing that helps you snap out of your trance.

You watch as your friend’s face contorts in confusion and she fights your answer, “Why?! You need to get back out there and who better than George?”

But you shake your head, “No, that’d be so messy!” You can’t think of anything worse than trying to get with your friend’s boyfriend’s best friend—you cringe just imagining how that going wrong would cause a horrendous change in the group’s dynamic.

All of your worries come to a halt and you choke on your own spit when your friend smirks as her eyes fall on George, “That’d be messy, alright. The nice kind of messy.”

In an attempt to try and play it cool, you fold the note and shove it in one of the pockets of your leather jacket, clearing your throat, adjusting the strap of your camera on your shoulder and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear like it’s all fine and normal.

But George can see the way you’re pursing your lips and how you hid the note so hastily so your behavior completely betrays your attempts to be secretive about it. “What did you say?” He kept his promise that he wouldn’t open the note when Matty gave it to him earlier that day, even though he’s been really tempted too, especially when he realized Matty knew what it said because he was giggling when his girlfriend handed it to him.

You don’t give him an answer though, only a little cough that acts as a coverup of you avoiding his gaze and a subtle shrug, “Just a little joke.”

“Can you share?” He tries further, his hand coming to nudge you softly in the arm.

Not even that helps your answer change. You shake your head and say a shy, “Not really.”

“I see how it is.” George narrows his eyes at you and adds, “S’alright, I’ll remember that.” which is a promise that has you biting your tongue.

“Shall we go inside?” The drummer says then, watching you struggling to come up with a response to his previous statement.

The new question is much easier to reply to, a soft “Yes.” falling from your lips, breathlessly.

And he takes your breath even more when he lets you walk ahead, only to rest his hand on your lower back delicately and casually comment, “You look beautiful by the way. Really like that we’re matching with the leather jackets.”

The opportunity to not acknowledge the compliment is perfect because you feel like you’re going to explode under George’s attention. You giggle and nod, “What a great coincidence huh?”

His answer being, “Hot coincidence.” accompanied by a wink doesn’t make it easy for you though and you find out then that being on a date with George Daniel means blushing every five minutes even if the chat is about mundane topics.

You talk about your hometowns and the differences between your upbringings, how different it was that you’d stayed in the same city for your entire life while he lived moving around for a good part of his childhood until his family settled in Manchester. You tell each other how you had ended up doing what you were doing currently and you end up cooing constantly when George tells you how the guys became friends and how the band had come together. You exchange stories about your jobs, finally having the opportunity to ask all that came to your mind about producing music which you had always found fascinating ever since you’d gotten closer to the band. George being fascinated about your knowledge on films and everything to do with photography and cinematography, which really comes with your job as a photographer and videographer.

Then he asks about your hand tattoo—the ‘Pure Desire’ written on the back of your hand is rather enticing—smirking when he rubs his thumb over it and asks if you have any more which ends up in you both sharing the amount of ink you have on your bodies which George beat you to by an incredible amount. You end up taking your jackets off and showing each other each piece you have on your skin.

Eventually, the chat comes back to the band and you ask him whereabouts The 1975 has toured so far. Your jaw drops the more his list continues and you genuinely have a hard time wrapping your head around them being relatively new to the mainstream scene when they are already going to all those places.

“I don’t even remember the last time I went on holiday, fucking hell.” You chuckle out in awe at the information he’s just given you.

And George turns your innocent amusement into a mess of heated cheeks, pressed lips and eye rolls when he suggests how that could be easily fixed, “We just have to take you on tour with us next time, don’t we?”

“Think it’ll be crowded enough now that Matty is taking Y/F/N with him.” Your eyebrows are raised to accentuate how serious you are trying to be about it, it’s so hard to conceal how flustered you are at his insinuation.

But he makes it difficult for you to play it cool when he shrugs, “We can share a bunk then.”

“You’re such a flirt. Bet you say that to all the girls.” It almost sounds like you’re scolding him and he likes seeing the reactions he can get out of you, but there’s one thing that has been constant in the back of his mind and he decides to bring it up.

Taking his glass up to his lips, he takes a sip and gulps softly to start saying, “Surprised me when Y/F/N called me and asked if I wanted to go on a date with you.”

“God, that’s embarrassing.” You wince at the information, hating the way it looks for your friends to be asking people around if they want to go out with you. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin and die in a ditch.

George smirks playfully, “Going on a date with me?”

You laugh in response to that, shaking your head before clearing up, “Y/F/N asking if you wanted to go out with me. You know you could’ve said no.”

He frowns at you, like you’ve just said the most outrageous thing and he wholeheartedly asks, “But why would I?”

“Oh George, stop it.” You warn him, pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes at him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” George reaches his hand out to touch yours and you almost shiver under it.

You let your fork down beside your plate and fan yourself with your hand as you admit, “You’re making me blush.”

But that’s not something that will keep him quiet, because he confesses, “Yeah and I quite enjoy doing it.”

The rest of the date is spent between good food, good wine, laughter, a picture you take of George when he asks about your camera, and chatter that has been really entertaining and entirely not awkward like you’d been expecting. Getting to know George in a deeper way is like a breath of fresh air and that’s why, when you leave the restaurant and the drummer offers to walk you back home, you don’t even hesitate to accept.

He takes a few detours on the way, taking you around places where he had hilarious and very wholesome stories of his childhood and teenage years when he would come around to London with the lads and other friends just to mess about. You’re so grateful for the anecdotes because you’re making sure to capture each place in its unique beauty and you know now that behind each shot you’d have the memory of what George had shared with you.

George watches you closely every time you take a picture, taking in every little thing you do before and after you press the shutter. You’re so adorable to him, the way your face lights up when you press the shutter and look at him excitedly when you roll the film.

You guide the both of you back to the way to your flat and as you walk, you’re smoking cigarettes and chatting. It’s so easy to carry a conversation with George, he exudes such an energy that just makes you feel free talking about whatever comes to your mind without having to think for a split second about what you should say or shouldn’t.

And just as easy comes laughter, because not only is his laugh hilariously contagious, he is funny himself and he has you struggling to catch your breath multiple times at his quips and comments.

There is something about this evening that you just feel the need to remember as best as you can so he catches you sneakily trying to take candids of him, every time he’s called you out on it and you shamelessly lie about the frame being focused on just what was behind him—every time something mundane and boring—but by the fifth time, instead of calling you out and have you grumpily change the focus of your lenses, he allows you to take a picture of him and even smiles for you; he doesn’t miss how your eyes twinkle after you’ve pressed the shutter.

The way you smile to yourself and proudly state, “I’m really gonna like that one.” makes George’s chest swell and in a lack of any more self control, he stops dead in his tracks and turns to you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him, your chest hitting his chest eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips.

“Oh hi.” You giggle at the sudden action, your hands subconsciously resting on his chest after that, but any other words die in your throat when he dips his head and traps your lips with his.

You hum into the kiss, which is a dizzying combination between sweet and determined. His left arm stays wrapped around your waist, pulling your flush into his chest but the other one comes up to cup your jaw and he keeps you at the perfect angle for him to kiss you just how he wants.

Your arms slowly move up until they are wrapped around the back of his neck and you let your fingers tangle in his hair. It’s soft and long on the top of his head which you really like. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, his fingers clutching your tighter and you let your mouth open so you can taste each other.

You completely forget where you are until someone walks past you and whistles at the two of you, startling you out of the kiss. You really enjoyed that kiss, and it shows in the way you look up at George with burning cheeks and something written on your face.

“I liked that.” George cheekily states, getting ahold of your hand and resuming your walk.

You hum, trying not to giggle when he intertwines your fingers and a feeling you can easily recognize starts bubbling inside you. “Yeah, I liked that too.”

You felt like a teenager. Blushing to yourself while you walked hand in hand with the person you had a crush on, and it’s so ridiculous but so relieving at the same time to feel this kind of pathetic elation instead of despair and heartache for once.

Your conversation resumed from whichever point you last remember it being left at but after that kiss it only gets more and more flirty, and you like where it is going but soon enough you reach your building and you have to slowly come to a stop with a pout.

“This is me.” You mumble, squeezing his hand in yours but he doesn’t let go.

He hums as if hesitant of believing what you’ve just said and instead he suggests, “Don’t you wanna take another walk around the block?”

“George, my feet hurt.” They had been hurting for a while but you hadn’t said anything just to not ruin things, and because you were enjoying his company so much that you were willing to endure the pain for a while longer.

The drummer comes to a quick solution, “I’ll carry you.”

Which makes you chuckle, “Sure you would.” You genuinely don’t want the date to end so in a bit of a rushed decision, you bargain, “Don’t you… Do you wanna come upstairs?”

He gets a kick of excitement inside him but he wants to play it cool, so he jokes, “What, are you gonna take my picture?”

You hold back a snort of laughter, and shrug as if it was fine by you that he only wanted that. “If that’s what you want.” There’s a little voice in your head that tells you not to but there is another one that purely encourages you to have fun.

“Yeah, that works.” George casually says, like he isn’t praying that he gets lucky to even get another kiss out of you.

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“Where’d you want me?” George turns to look at you as you drop your camera on your bedside tables and take your jacket off to perch on the back of a loveseat you have in the corner of your room.

You take one of the new rolls out of your pocket and change it for the one you’d almost fully used earlier that day. “Wherever you’re comfortable.” you tell him, focusing on perfectly lining the roll before you can turn to him.

“Bed’s quite comfy.'' You hear George say from behind you and when you look up to see him, you find him lying on his side, head perched on his hand and a smirk on his face. “Paint me like one of your french girls.” He teases, resting his other hand dramatically on his forehead.

All you do is giggle at his antics, “You’re such an idiot.” Shaking your head, you come up to the bed and try looking at the scene through your lenses but you aren't quite convinced by the shot.

George watches you struggle, stepping backwards and forwards, to the sides before sighing. He reminds you with a soft smile, “I’m not used to being the one to pose for the camera. You’re gonna have to guide me.”

“Okay.” Silently, you think about it as you bite on your thumb and once a vision comes to your mind, you start instructing him, “Lean into your forearms, sideways so you fit in the bed.” But you find what’s bothering you and it’s that his legs are half hanging off the bed.

“Why are you so tall? Oh my god.” You go over to the drummer and prompt him to go further into the bed, perching one of his sock-clad feet up on the bed and the other leg staying stretched on the bed. “There, now look at me.”

George looks at you with a blank face first to which you complain about but when he actually shows you a smile he starts giggling, and if there had been something you had learned about George quite early into your date was that his laugh was incredibly contagious, so you find yourself shaking with laughter as you try to take his pictures and you end up having to call him out for it.

“Don’t laugh! You’re making me laugh!” You scorn him, struggling to sound serious between your giggles.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes halfheartedly, swallowing his laughter until he goes back to a stoic face and he gives you the perfect soft smolder.

You hum in satisfaction at the result of that frame and then you move onto instructing him to do the next pose, “Throw your head back a bit and close your eyes.” He silently listens and does as you say which earns him a sweet, “Just like that.” from you.

Of course, your words make George give you a look, one that had you lightly blushing and since you know he can recognize the way you get flustered, you hide behind your camera.

“What?” You say behind the device, inquiry thrown out into the air, and warn him, “Don’t look at me like that.”

George chuckles to himself, wondering if you are this naive or if you are playing dumb. So when you take another picture of him, he purposely complains, “My leg’s cramping.” to then throw himself back on the bed, ending up completely splayed over the duvet and breaking the pose.

“George!” You scold him yet again, a bit of amusement sneaking through your words.

He groans in response and without moving, tells you to “Just take a picture like this.”

You kiss your teeth to exaggerate your disapproval and shake your head, “I can’t even see your face.”

“Come here so you can see it.” He resolves easily for you, waving you over to come close to the side of the bed instead of taking pictures by the end of it. You roll your eyes at him in amusement, not moving at first but since he actually doesn’t plan on moving, you have to do as he says.

But attempting to get a picture from above while standing beside the bed is an actual failure, “That’s an awkward angle, look at me.” You try to get him to turn to his side again but he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Need you on your side.” You say explicitly this time but he doesn’t let up either.

Instead he suggests, “Why don’t you just get up here?” He pats the bed, right next to his hip and you blush just thinking about it. At your silence, he opens his eyes and turns his head to the side to encourage you with a “C’mon.”

He offers his hand so you can use it as leverage to kneel on the bed on each side of his hips and hover above him. You struggle as you do so because you’re growing nervous and therefore clumsy.

“Fucking hell, George.” You curse under your breath, seeing him from above is an angle that you don’t really know if you can handle.

“What?” George bites his bottom lip to not let a smirk break on his face.

Yet, not even that keeps you from knowing that he knows just what he was doing but you won’t say anything, because you’re enjoying this a lot more than you are supposed to. So you stick to just replying, “Nothing.” as you take yet another picture of him.

Remembering his tattoos, you bit your bottom lip for a few seconds before hesitatingly asking, “Why don’t you take your jacket off?”

George lets his hands rest right above your knees and squeezes your legs as he teases, “Is that code for something?”

You hoped your flustered state wasn’t obvious so you can play off your nonchalant, “For ‘I want to see your tattoos’, yes.”

It goes right over his head though, because he keeps smirking as he sarcastically replies, “Right, right.”

You move so he can take the piece of clothing off without you hovering over him but when he’s done and laying on the bed again, he pats his right side so you can move your left leg there and have you hover over him properly again.

“How’s that look?” He asks cheekily as his hands go to touch your legs again, the skin up to your mid thighs showing because your dress slit allows it to open and rise up in the position you’re in.

“Amazing.” You breathlessly compliment, making him raise an eyebrow at you.

The shutter goes off again and, as you roll the film, he tests the waters, “Do you want to see them all?”

“Sure.” The word comes out so soft it could’ve gone with the wind, his hands leave your thighs for a second to grab the bottom of his shirt.

“Top’s coming off next then, is that alright?” He asks for confirmation first and you nod eagerly, your pupils dilating in anticipation.

He sheds himself off his shirt in the constricted space he had, you’re so spaced out that you don’t move but it isn’t a problem for George. If anything, his smirk grows at your inability to act and it gets bigger when he throws his shirt somewhere across the room and you’re left shamelessly gawking at his naked top half.

After a minute of your eyes wandering everywhere, George brings your back to reality by letting his hands come over your thighs again. You tremble at the same time as the drummer says, “Y/N/N?”

“Yeah?” You ask, slowly coming back to reality. Your brain has been completely taken over by the view of the taut muscles of his arms littered by colorful ink, a pair of symmetric ‘broken’ tattoos on both sides of his collarbones and his torso beautifully chiseled with a defined six pack.

“When are you taking the picture?” He reminds you, trying not to smirk too hard as to not put you off.

“Shit, sorry.” You say under your breath and, after quickly focusing the shot, finally take a picture of him like that.

There was a heavy silence that hung over you two, the trail of his fingers making your skin grow hot and your throat going dry at the growing need for anything at all. So you find yourself surprised when he breaks the silence to ask you, “Can I take your picture?”

“Mine?” You repeated like you’d heard wrong.

George nods and lets you know, “You look really pretty from here.”

In a feeble attempt not to have him do that, you remind him, “You don’t know how to.”

“Matty had a film camera a few years ago, I know how to.” George surprises you even further when he explains and just to try a bit harder, he pouts at you and says, almost begging, “Please?”

“Okay.” You let yourself accept, your mind too distracted by the view beneath you to even fight.

Once you hand him the camera, he lifts it up to his eyes and lets out a chipper, “Smile.” as an instruction, which you follow only just a bit shyly.

You’re about to get the device back from him when he pulls it away from your grasp and pleads, “Another one please?”

You sigh at the drummer’s exaggerated pout until it turns into a giggle and that’s when the shutter goes off. Your cheeks burn again when he compliments as he rolls the film, “Stunning.”

Letting the camera rest beside him, George tries his luck and lets his hands rub on the skin of your thighs a bit further up. You don’t refuse it, he can clearly see the growing hunger in your eyes as you look down at him so he continues, letting his gaze trail down your body to drink in all of your but when he reaches down to your legs is when he catches a slight glimpse of red ink on your left thigh that makes him ask, “Do you have more tattoos?”

He doesn’t remember your mentioning any other tattoos than the ones you’d shown him at the restaurant. So when you nod, he can’t help but ask, “Where?”

“One, right here.” You grab his right hand so he can touch over the fabric of your dress where the one on your rib is. Your eyes looking right into his and his lips opening further when you continue, “And this one here.” lifting the fabric up to show the ‘Divine Feminine’ tattoo on your thigh.

George lets his right hand fall until it reaches the one on your thigh, you’re still clutching the satin in your first so he can fully see it. He rubs on the red ink on your skin as he stares at it, eliciting goosebumps to break on your entire body.

He looks up and asks with a low voice about the only one he hasn’t seen yet but you had just let him touch over your dress, “What’s the other one?”

“A word.” You vaguely say, as if encouraging him to continue asking about it.

“Which word?” His fingers trail further up, making your knees go completely weak. They had been hurting from hovering over him for so long but his touch is the thing to finally have you finally sit on his lap.

And that’s when you feel him growing hard in his jeans.

His fingers had already been making your every thought go straight down to your core so you’re entirely driven by lust when you fully lift the satin up and shed the dress off your body, leaving you only in your underwear and in full show for George.

It’s involuntary, his hips jerking forward and pressing on your center, his mouth agape at the sight and he grows even more breathless when you roll your center against his hardening cock.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, taking one quick look at the strange word on your rib before perching himself up on his left forearm to wrap his right hand around your neck and pull you in for a hungry kiss.

You lean further into him, one arm wrapping around his shoulders and digging into his hair to pull on it as your lips move with each other. Your fingers tugging on his hair made him groan into your mouth and, as payback, he tightens his fingers around your neck, earning a loud moan out of you.

George pushes himself up with his left hand until he’s sitting on the bed, his right arm wrapping around your waist to keep you flush against him. Your tongues taste each other and your breaths grow heavy when you start rolling your hips in sync, meeting in the middle and creating a delicious friction that soon enough forces you to break the kiss only to gasp in pleasure into each other's mouths.

His fingers come to graze the ink on your left rib, your desperate side having you sink your hips down to roll against him and turn his, “What does it mean?” into a gorgeous moan.

Your lips brush as he moans and you respond to his sound with a mewl of your own and when that reaches his ears, George forgets ever asking anything for he can’t wait any longer to feel your lips on his again.

The kiss grows needy then. His hand goes from your ribs down to knead the flesh of your ass, fingers harshly digging into your skin and encouraging you to move against him. Your clit was getting so stimulated from only being covered by the thin material of your lace thong against his jeans which means you can’t kiss him any longer.

A string of moans falls from you as you quicken your pace, getting louder as you go but your actions are interrupted when George clutches you tightly by your middle and swiftly flips the two of you around so it you’re resting on your back on the bed with him hovering right over you.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden change of positions, your hand flying to cup his face and bring his lips back on yours and wrapping your legs around his waist to pull his hips into your core in a desperate attempt to have the friction back.

The feeling of his hard on coming down to rub harshly against you every time he bucks his hips forward makes your head spin. He starts off by teasing you with the friction and leaving you hanging for a few seconds before going back in but when you start gasping into his mouth, he keeps himself close to you and relentlessly rolls his hips on yours, hard cock pressing deliciously against your throbbing clit.

The pace grows faster, making it impossible for you to continue moving your lips with his so he takes it as a sign to continue on with what he wants to do first. Unfortunately, that means his hips stop moving and leave you throbbing and clenching around nothing but he makes it up to you with his lips all over your skin.

Wet kisses trail down your neck, his lips taking their time to give every bit of your skin attention on the way down. Kissing, sucking, licking. His fingers run down your sides until they clutch tightly on your hips, fingers pressing hard on the skin there and making your cry out in pleasure even louder.

Your breath is heavy by the time he stops sucking bruises all over your chest and abdomen, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging on it so he can come back up but instead his tongue runs flat from just above your belly button agonizingly slowly up until his nose bumps against the hem of your bra.

George looks up at you through his lashes, teeth coming to bite on the fabric and tugging them the slightest bit down so you know what he wants to do and you desperately nod.

Without much of a proper attempt to take the piece of clothing off, he just tugs down the lace cups on it and lets your tits spill out freely for him. He groans from the pits of his chest at the sight, hips bucking forwards into the mattress harshly in search of some relief for himself.

But not letting any more seconds go by, George dives to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. Groaning around it, the vibrations of the noise causing white heat to run straight down to your throbbing wet cunt.

He switches the sucking for flicking it with his tongue, blowing cold air and smirking as your nipple hardens at his actions, ending with a soft bite and tug that have you loudly saying his name in call for mercy.

You needed something, anything. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing and it’s almost torturous. But your cries fall on deaf ears for he moves onto your other nipple and repeats his process. You’re only ruining your underwear further, so wet you feel uncomfortably sticky with your thong still on.

“George, baby, please–” You plead in anguish when he starts sucking bruises on your tits, biting them until you whimper loudly under him.

“What do you need Y/N/N?” He asks sweetly, a stark contrast to his vicious attack on your chest.

“Anything. Just–” You try to say, your words catching up in your throat as your desperation for release clouds your logic and makes you sound stupid.

So you rely on grabbing one of his hands from your hips and guiding it down to where you’re aching. The simple graze of one of his fingertips on your swollen clit eliciting a pathetic mewl out of you.

“Oh sweetheart,” George tuts “Made quite a mess, haven’t you?” His pointer finger runs up and down your clothed core slowly and so faintly you don’t even know if you are imagining it.

Applying a bit more pressure assures him to hear every one of your needy sounds and feeling like you had waited enough, he leaves a light feather kiss over your center.

“Need help cleaning up this mess, yeah?” His words are sweet, like he’s finally taking pity on you. The thought of him doing absolutely anything at that moment sounds so fucking good your hum in agreement sounds more like a whine, barely able to make eye contact with him in your hazy mind.

His long tongue runs flat over your underwear, wetting even more than it already is and he moans at the taste of your slick soaking through it. His fingers tug the fabric down your legs and throw it somewhere behind him in record time. He finds himself almost drooling at the sight of you completely exposed to him.

If you had any hint of inhibitions left in you, you would’ve tried to close your legs under his attentive gaze but he’s entranced and you’d had it with waiting any longer so you prop your legs wide open and squirm in your place.

“George, please.”

Your pleading is so sweet, so desperate, he can’t deny you any longer. So he dips his head in between your legs and starts lapping at you like a starved man. At the first proper taste he has of you, he moans loudly, tongue running up and down your slit to gather as much of you as he can and enjoying every drop of your arousal on his tongue.

“Are you not gonna continue taking my picture?” George interrupts his task to tauntingly ask, going back to using his tongue on you, this time flicking it up and down quickly on your clit and making you shiver.

Your words are caught in your throat when he doesn’t relent his actions but still looks at you expectantly through his lashes, “Right– F-fuck! Right now?”

He only allows himself to stop for the amount of seconds it takes him to nod and say, “Yes baby, be a good girl and take my picture.”

That ‘good girl’ makes you roll your eyes in utter pleasure, and all you can think of is doing as he’s telling you to earn his praise; because you want more, you need more.

Your head turns quickly to see where he’s left the camera, and you bring it to your eyes to take a picture as fast as you can. Your thoughts are already becoming clouded by the tightening coil in your lower belly.

His disheveled dirty blonde hair in between your legs, his arms underneath your legs and hands clutching your thighs in place is all that you captured in that frame. The shutter goes off letting George know you have done as he’d said and he congratulates you by praising you with a proud, “Such a good fucking girl.” and a few kisses to your clit which make you jolt.

He goes back down, trying to clean up the mess of slick and saliva that’s dripping down your inner thighs and onto the duvet, but you’re so desperate so you start rocking your hips against his face, trying to steer him back to where you wanted him to be and, to your satisfaction, he follows the silent instruction by going back to your center and this time pointing his tongue and dipping it inside your sopping hole.

Your legs instinctively close around his head, eliciting a breathy laugh from him that hits your core as he continues tongue fucking you. His hands come to spread your legs open again, holding your limbs down on the bed strongly, not allowing you to move any longer.

The feeling of his wet tongue dipping in and out of you has you growing increasingly louder, begging and pleading with him not to stop, your orgasm so close you can feel it.

But despite your words, he stops.

At that very moment, you swear you can cry, knowing you had just been about to come undone on his tongue. But just before you can pathetically let your frustrated tears roll down your cheeks, his lips wrap around your throbbing clit and he sucks on it. The perfect amount of pressure for you to thrash around beneath him as your pleasure resumes and hits you with an incredible force, making you let out a string of moans of his name and then a bunch of “Yes! Fuck yes!”, hands flying down to tangle your fingers in his hair and keep him in his place.

“I’m gonna cum!” You yell out loud, eyes shutting tightly since the pleasure impedes you from keeping them open, and when George starts humming as he sucks your clit, you are done for.

Your legs tremble under his hold, toes curling and your fingers tugging his hair tighter than you had been before. You black out as your orgasm hits you hard, the oxygen in your lungs leaving you entirely as your back arches off the bed and you only come back from your high when his incessant sucking becomes too much for your oversensitive self so you pull him away from you.

He giggles, completely entranced by your fucked out state. Watching you cum had been an experience but god don’t you look beautiful with your chest heaving, bruises looming on your skin, a flush to your face and chest, a thin coat of sweat making your body and face shine.

But before he can give you any more attention, his gaze falls back to your cunt and it’s glistening with arousal. You taste so fucking good to him that he wastes no more time to lick you clean. Your legs tremble at the resumed contact of his tongue on your sensitive core, whimpers stubbornly leaving you as he goes.

Your fingers leave his hair alone but your left hand cradles his head as he laps up at everything you have given him, and after a whole minute of him meticulously licking clean every inch of skin that had been wet with your arousal, he starts a trail of kisses from your mound until he reaches your belly button.

Flashing a smile up at you, George rests his chin on your lower stomach and you can’t hold yourself back from brushing his messy hair back almost adoringly, post orgasm haze making you extra appreciative of him and his skilled tongue work.

His fingers rub circles on the top of your thighs, “Feel good?” He asks before leaving more soft kisses on your lower stomach.

“Very.” You answered with a smile, fingers brushing through his hair.

He hums at the feeling of your touch, “Good to know, gorgeous.”

Turning to see where you’d left it, you reach out to grab your discarded camera. Melting into the duvet under George’s gentle touch and his lips pressing on your skin leisurely, you really make an effort as you lean on your forearms so that you can get a better look at him to take a picture. He looks up at you with a dizzying smirk that you manage to capture, and you know that you’ll adore that picture no matter the outcome of this day.

His lips tickle the skin of your lower stomach when he points out, “Didn’t even have to tell you this time.”

Putting the device back down on the bed, you shrug with a grin sneaking onto your lips, “You look good.”

“Do I, now?” He teases, dropping his hands from your thighs and pressing them on the mattress so he can slowly push himself up and crawl his way up to hover over you again.

“You always do.” Your words come laced with lust, his eyes darkening as he gets closer and you just can’t wait any longer to have him in more ways. “Come here.” You instruct by wrapping a hand around his neck, fingers pressing on the sides of it until he groans loudly in pleasure and when he lets the sound leave his lips, you smirk and warn, “My turn.”

Pulling him in by his neck means that your tongues meet instantly when you start the kiss, and when you taste yourself on his tongue, you moan so loudly George growls just as loud in response.

The kiss is all teeth clashing, spit dribbling down to your chins, noses bumping, deep exhales sounding loudly and trying to overpower the sounds of your swollen lips moving together.

It’s George the one to grow louder when your hand drops from his neck, down his naked torso to the button of his jeans, which you undo with quick fingers and pull the zip down before you can palm him over the fabric of his boxers.

“F-fuck…” He lets out when your nimble fingers squeeze him and stroke him up and down. He’s so hard that your touch makes him shiver.

You can feel him so swollen and heavy under your hand, your mind already spinning about how big he is but you want to have him unravel under you so badly, you push any worries about his size to the back of your head.

His hips move slowly, helping with your movements, clearly wanting to reach his high but you want to taste him and you want it now. So you leave his cock alone to instruct him, “Lay down, baby.”

You switch positions, George laying on his back and you’re kneeling between his legs. He pants as he watches you shamelessly gawk at him, your mouth going dry at the clear outline of his cock.

“Fucking hell, George.” You curse as you tug on the top of his jeans so he can lift his hips up for you to take them off him.

He does as instructed and you’re just too impatient to wait any more, you want to feel him heavy on your tongue already. His boxers come off quickly after his jeans, his hard cock springing up to touch right by his navel.

You gulp. He’s thick, angry red tip already leaking from how aroused he is. Intimidating but so inviting.

Dipping your head down, you start kissing his hips. Leaving kisses that go from sweet to wet and messy the more he squirmed under you.

“You…” George pleads, hand coming down to cradle your head. Not to push it towards where he wanted you but to have you look up at him and see just how fucking desperate he is for you.

You feel that look go down straight to your core, clenching your legs together at the feeling. “I know baby, I know.” You say in a coo.

Your fingers wrap around him, the pressure of them making George huff in pleasure with his lips pressed together. He feels so heavy in your hand, veins popping for you to see how pained he is.

“You’re so big.” You trail off, a bit of wander in your voice. You have no idea how he’s going to fit in your mouth, he’s by far the biggest cock you have ever come across but you like a challenge.

Your tongue licks a bold strip from base to tip, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you taste the salty arousal that has already been leaking from him. He curses under his breath at the feeling of your wet tongue on his cock, but the breathy words turn into a loud moan when you wrap your lips around him and sink your mouth down onto him.

Barely able to fit half of him in your mouth until he hits the back of your throat, you pull back to catch a breath, your hand taking over for a few seconds as you inhale deeply and go back in. You gag around him when you manage to get him deeper, George moans loudly as you do so, trying his hardest not to buck his hips upwards into your tight throat.

His hand goes back to hold your head but this time, his fingers tangle in your hair, only to pull you up so you can breathe. But you don’t want to have it easy, you want to see how much of him you can take and hear every one of his pretty moans.

So you go against his hold, sinking your mouth further down and gagging around him again. Your hand stays at the base of his cock, stroking the rest you can’t get to, as you continue bobbing your head up and down on him.

George is a mess of groans and moans, whimpering whenever you gag and moan around him, your throat tightening around him driving him insane.

He lifts his head up slightly to look down at you, pulling on your hair so you come off him and meet his eyes. George is met with you panting, pink wet swollen lips, saliva dripping down your chin and neck, tears falling out of the corner of your eyes, hair disheveled but pupils dilated and a satisfied smirk at it all.

Your hand keep stroking him up and down, fingers applying the perfect amount of pressure and he moans at the combination of your touch and the glorious view of you like this, “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.”

The praise only encourages you more, so you lean back down and lick a strip up his cock again, this time looking up at him through your lashes. An innocent look in your eyes as you lap at the tip of his cock eagerly.

He exhales in awe, “Look at you– Shit!” He curses loudly when you sink slowly back down until again he reaches your throat, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily and making you gag loudly.

You gasp out for air for a mere second before you do it again, until you manage to control your gagging a bit better and encourage George to fuck your mouth with a simple squeeze to his hip.

“Oh fuck– Such a pretty filthy girl.” He praises as he obeys the silent instructions and rocks his hips forwards slowly and ever so slightly. “You like it when I fuck your throat?” His question is thrown out into the air in between groans.

You answer with a hum that vibrates around him and that’s when George starts feeling like he’s losing control. His hips grow erratic and you notice so you hum and moan around him even more, causing him to get closer to his high.

“Y/N/N m’gonna cum!” He warns you loudly, the wet squelching sounds of him going in and out of your mouth and your moans bouncing off the walls in a pornographic symphony that makes the scene even better.

And when your hand drops from around the base of his cock to play with his balls, he’s sent over the edge. He pushes his hips forwards and stills then as he comes, cock twitching in your mouth and his cum coating the walls of your throat with a warmth you appreciated with another low moan.

His hips fall back on the bed but you don’t relent just yet, sucking him off for a little longer to take everything you can. But he has to pull you off him by your hair when he can't take it anymore, cursing and calling out your name like he was scolding you.

“Fucking hell.” He mumbles, still dizzy from his orgasm but completely entranced by the way you come off him with a whimper and a satisfied smirk.

You wipe the drool off your chin with the back of your hand and slowly crawl up until you are laying on your side right beside him, staring right into his eyes with hunger still darkening yours.

“Feel good?” You ask, just what he’d asked you after he made you cum but in a mocking manner.

It gets you a chuckle in response before one of his big hands comes to cup your jaw and crashes your lips together.

Kissing George has you dazed. His lips are soft but firm when moving along with yours, they’re wet and swollen, warm exhales leaving his parted lips for your to swallow, tongue peeking through them to meet yours. He whimpers so loud when he tastes himself on your tongue, fingers digging into your cheek and making you mewl in response.

Your skin grows hot the more you kiss. He doesn’t even let you get a proper breath whenever he pulls back for a brief second, because he’s back on your mouth with desperation—lips smacking and tongues licking at each other.

Your hands go on a path from his face to his head, the back of his neck, his shoulders, and eventually to his back, nails digging into it when he starts nipping at your bottom lip, at the same time as his right hand drops from your jaw down to pinch your nipples, eliciting gasps out of you.

“George…” You let out in a gasp when he has your nipple pinched and twisted between his thumb and index finger.

He’s smirking right over your parted lips, amused at the way you shiver every time he goes from one nipple to the other. Your nails claw at his back when you feel the electric shocks that his touch gives you travel all the way down to your center, feeling yourself growing wetter and that familiar knot in your lower stomach forming.

His lips slot between yours again, distracting you from his touch going from your tits down to tease your cunt.

With his thumb, George starts rubbing circles on your clit, making you pull back from the kiss with a loud gasp that turns into a cry of pleasure. You could feel yourself throbbing already, and it gets worse when he picks up his pace.

He isn’t going too fast but not slow either, the speed in which his thumb rubs at your clit has you writhing your hips in response, subconsciously trying your best to get closer and closer to your high.

“George! Fuck!” You yell when he slides a finger inside you. It’s thick and long, curling inside you and making you see stars already, half lidded eyes catching him smirking at you and his breaths growing shallow when taking in your reactions.

“You like that?” He asks you teasingly, pecking your lips as your face scrunches up in pleasure.

You manage to hum in response, but he finds that not good enough, so he adds another finger, stretching you out easily and making your back arch as you moan loudly. “Yes! Yes!” You encourage, and when he curls his fingers again, knuckle deep inside your cunt, you felt yourself be completely overcome by pleasure and your words slip past your lips without even thinking of them first, “Oh my– Fuck! George, your fingers feel so fucking good.”

His fingers are slipping in and out of you with ease from how wet you are, your hips erratically moving as he thrusts them inside you to meet him in the middle. “That’s it, cum on them baby.”

The dirty talk has you completely fucked over, “George, I’m so– Fuckkkk!” You can’t help but scream out when he pushes a third finger inside you, feeling completely stuffed with him.

It feels so good how much he’s opening you up, and he’s loving the way whenever he pulls his fingers back your walls push him off so he has to slowly sink his fingers deep inside your cunt again. “I know, I can feel you clenching hard around them.” You’re squeezing his fingers so tight, his throat goes dry just thinking about how good you’re gonna feel milking his cock, “Can’t wait to fill you up and feel how tight you’re around my cock baby.”

You agree, so drunk in pleasure you just want to feel even more of him, “I need you. George, I need–”

But he tuts before you can complete your mumbled sentence, “You’re cumming on my fingers first.” You’re about to cry out like a brat, about to beg for him to stuff you up with his big cock but his words beat yours, “Come on baby, give it to me like the good girl you are.”

His voice is low in your ear, so sultry and inviting you feel it deep in your core and you just can’t say no. Not when you’re gonna earn his praise, those words he says that have you wrapped around his little finger.

So you let go. Your toes curl as his fingers keep pumping in and out of you, hitting that spot perfectly for your to see stars as you come, white heat enveloping you and taking ahold of your entire body as you cum, “Fuck, fuck! Oh– George!”

“That’s it, baby. So fucking stunning.” He encourages, watching his fingers continue to disappear inside your tightening cunt, your legs shaking and your hips moving clumsily to meet his hand. He gets impossibly hard at the sight of it all, biting his bottom lip as he moans.

You gush all over him, slick drenching his hand and dripping down your cunt onto the duvet. He can’t let it go to waste, so he pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean, moaning around them when he tastes you again.

So fucking sweet. He needed more.

You feel his fingers gathering your mess and you manage to peel your eyes open to watch as he sucks it all off his fingers again.

Shamelessly, you just watch as he dips down time and time again until he deems his work of cleaning you up done, the last one being offered out to you and you obey enthusiastically, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sinking your mouth on them to suck them clean the best you can. Your eyes stay on his as you do so, moaning loudly around them while you batted your lashes at him, just fully putting a show on for him.

The view makes George’s cock twitch, a bead of precum leaking from his head. He reaches out behind you for the forgotten camera and when you’re trying to catch your breath, eyes closed in bliss, he takes a picture of you.

Your eyes snap open at the sound of the shutter going off and you look at him all startled like you need an explanation.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” He quickly justifies, lifting the device back up to his eyes and adjusting the focus to take another one as he adds, “All fucked out. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Stop.” You whine when the shutter goes off again, hand coming up to grab at the lenses and forcing him to put it down, “I must look a mess.”

His head shakes in disagreement, tongue swiping at his bottom lip with his eyes drinking you in all over again, “You don’t. You look hot.” Skin glowing due to the thin layer of sweat your activities have caused, lips swollen and wet, your chest heaving and flushed, the gorgeous pattern of every bruise he’s sucked on your skin which are darkening more and more, hair disheveled and splayed over the pillows.

“I’m confiscating this.” It’s the brief ultimatum you give him, grabbing the camera and turning the action on him instead.

You take just one picture of him and he allows it, only to then complain by saying, “You have enough of me.” and taking the camera back.

Rolling your eyes, you fake being annoyed and kiss him quickly before pushing yourself up and off the bed, telling him, “Gonna go to the bathroom.” making a beeline for your wardrobe and getting yourself a new pair of underwear first, adjusting the cups of your bra so they hold your breasts again.

It isn’t longer than five minutes that you take, coming back to him wearing his boxers again and laying over the bedsheets—he’s discarded the duvet and left it a big crumpled knot on the floor by the foot of the bed—, a hand behind his head whilst the other is scrolling on his phone.

His position looks inviting, so you crawl on the bed and sit on his lap with a mischievous smile on your face. You reach out to get the camera he has placed on the bedside table at the same time as he drops his phone there and his hands go up to hold your hips.

“Put your hands behind your head again.” You instruct him softly, almost a mutter that sounds so shy, the corner of his lips tug into a smirk.

You take a picture of him like that and another when he runs a hand through his hair but you stop when his hands come back to grab at your skin, going from your waist until they softly come down to rest at your hips.

With a soft squeeze on your sides, he tilts his head to ask, “Am I allowed to smoke?” to which you nod and get off him to open the windows and get him a cigarette and a lighter.

Getting back on top of him, you place the cigarette between his lips but before you can give him the lighter, you grab the camera again just so you can capture the moment he ignites it alive.

George looks so fucking hot lighting it up: cheeks hollowing ever so slightly, brows furrowing, long fingers that make the lighter look minuscule in his hand, lips pursed around the stick.

You snap away and capture the moment he blows out the smoke upwards, before taking another drag and then blowing it in your direction.

The familiar scent of the tobacco and just how arousing you’re finding it all, impulses you to start moving your hips slowly on him. The sudden movement makes his breath hitch in his throat, causing him to erupt in coughs when the smoke goes up the wrong hole. He had been half hard beneath you when you sat on his lap, so you can’t really hold back from wanting to have him in a new way now.

That’s when you guide his hand to your mouth so he can place the cigarette in between your lips for you to take a drag. His mouth opens agape as you do so, the rolling of your hips only growing more intent and he starts twitching and getting harder in his boxers.

He can feel your heat, the way you’re wetting your underwear and starting to wet his own, the pulsing of your swollen clit. He can see how your nipples grow hard through the lace of your bra, and the way goosebumps rise in your skin as you go. Soft gasps that turn into hush whimpers that he wants so badly to turn into those loud moans of yours that he’s quite enjoying getting drunk on.

“Have you brought a condom?” You ask breathlessly, camera being once again forgotten somewhere on the bed for you to be able to rest your hands on his chest as leverage.

A flip switches inside George, the simple hint of him finally being able to sink himself deep inside you making his blood rush down to his cock.

“Yeah.” He nods eagerly and it’s a relief when you quickly get off him so he can rush to get it, not without going up to your dresser so he can put out the cigarette on the ashtray that’s laid there by your jewelry.

He had thought it was foolish of him to pocket a couple condoms before he left his flat earlier today, fully scorning himself for being so ridiculous as to assume you would want to shag after your date but oh was he glad he had still done it right then.

Condom in hand, George goes back to the bed but not without shedding himself off his boxers first. You bite your bottom lip as you get your bra off to throw it on the floor behind you, seeing him wrap his hand around his length and pump it slowly as he watches you almost naked figure. Your hands go down to your hips so you can quickly tug down your underwear, eagerly taking it off and throwing it on the same spot on the floor you had dropped your bra.

Crawling up to the edge of the bed, you hum as you watch him stroke himself up and down, your mouth watering for another taste of him. So when you get right in front of him, you dip your head down until your mouth is right before his hardening cock and sticking your tongue out, you lick at his head slowly.

He grows heavier on your tongue as you go, twitching in your mouth when you wrap your lips around him again, his head thrown back at the feeling of your wet mouth enclosed around him and sucking him off patiently.

But he has to use an incredible amount of self restraint to pull you off him, a hand delicately coming around your neck to have you let go off his cock with a pop and pull you up to face him.

“I’m fucking you now.”

George isn’t asking, he’s simply informing you and that makes you squirm under his gaze in anticipation. Thighs pressing together and eyes drinking in the way lust makes his behavior change. But you want a bit of control, even if it’s just for him to ruin you.

“Can I ride you?” You ask innocently, puppy eyes that you pray will get your a yes.

You take the way he pulls you in for a messy kiss as one.

In no time he’s laying on his back with his head resting on the pillows, teeth ripping the condom wrapper open while your hand wraps around him, waiting for him to put the latex on. The anticipation grows and hangs in the air like a heavy cloud as George rolls it down his length, sighing at the feeling of it around him.

You catch a glimpse of your camera through the corner of your eye and you can’t help but think there won’t be a better thing than capturing his pure ecstasy in a picture so you grab it before you straddle him again.

You lift the camera up to your eyes with one hand while the other gets ahold of his cock to line him up, rubbing his head on your clit and making yourself gasp at the feeling. You clench around nothing as you do so, and you can already feel yourself drenched.

Even after he’s stretched you out with his fingers, it’s slightly challenging for you to take him when you start sinking onto him.

Your jaw drops in a silent gasp when every inch of him starts stretching you out, eyes watering at the initial sting. Your eyes want to flutter closed at the feeling but you do your best to not let them close entirely so you can capture the way he groans loudly with his head thrown back as you let your cunt swallow him whole.

Breath hitching in your throat, you sink down completely until you can feel him so deep a pathetic cry of pleasure slips past your lips.

You draw your hips up and back down on him slowly, testing the waters on his size and what angle is good for you to feel the best. You’re both a mess of loud moans at the feeling. He’s so big, he’s filling you up in a way you’ve never felt before so your walls are clenching hard around him which has his head spinning.

“You–” George breathes out, hands flying to your hips and clutching them so tightly just to show how bad he’s holding himself back from just thrusting up into you, or better yet just flipping you around and fucking you into the mattress.

“Fuck–, I know. I know.” You say in a high pitch tone. One of your hands falls to rest flat on his chest and use as support, “I– oh, fuck…” You curse as you roll your hips forwards and then backwards this time, making you completely still at the insane sensory overdrive you’re getting from it.

George knows you need a second or two but you stay frozen for longer than he can hold so he pleads, “Baby– Fuck, baby, I need you to move, you’re so tight.”

“Just–” You try to say, rolling your hips again and mewling loudly. George moans back in response, his hands sliding down to your thighs as your head hangs in pleasure.

You establish a slow place, George’s fingers digging into the flesh of your upper thighs grounding you into the moment and allowing you to take another picture. A picture that captures your legs on each sides of his toned chest, his fingers digging into your skin, his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps back a moan, the box tattoo on his thumb right next to the red ink of your ‘Divine Feminine’ tattoo on your thigh.

But after you press the shutter on that one, barely being able to clumsily roll the film, you just toss the camera to the side mindlessly and use your new free hand to rest on his chest as well, and the second hand of support helps you start moving your hips faster.

It’s fucking delicious the way he keeps hitting your g-spot from that angle, and when he starts bucking his hips upwards, meeting your in the middle, you can’t hold back the noises you let out. “George, fuck baby! Oh fuckkkk.” You cry out, clit feeling a bit of pressure every time you roll down and hit your pelvis, so you’re fully drunk on pleasure.

His hands run up from your thighs to mercilessly grab your ass, fingers harshly digging into your skin and stinging just in the best way. “Just like that baby. You feel so fucking good.” He praises you with a groan, helping you actually lift your hips up and down on him.

“You’re so– Oh fuck–” You’re so cock drunk, your thoughts are all stupid and leaving you without even being able to finish a sentence.

“Tight little cunt, can barely fit inside you.” George can feel himself meeting the hilt inside you every time, your cries growing in volume the faster the pace gets. “You love it huh, being filled to the brim?”

“Yes, fuck! Yes, I love it, love your cock!” You’re dripping all over him, the noise of the wetness and your skin slapping every time you meet bouncing off the walls and, combined with your moans, makes for a pornographic scene you wish you were recording.

“I know you can go faster. Can you do that for me, baby?” George genuinely can feel himself not lasting any longer with how tight you’re squeezing him.

“I can, I can.” You promise desperately, wanting to be good for him. So you pick up your pace, your hands moving ever so slightly so you can straighten up a bit and when you do so you curse out loud at the new angle, “Ah fuck!”

Your hips grow erratic, your knees helping now when you bounce up and down his cock ever so more intently, enough for you to incessantly gasp in a high pitch every time he hits that spot.

“Such a good girl for me.” His hands stop groping your ass to spank you, making you jolt forward with a loud gasp that turns into a mewl and a whine that tries to pass as a ‘yes’. His cock twitches inside you at that reaction so he does it again and again, feeling your walls flutter around him with every hit, “You're squeezing me so fucking tight, baby. Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Yeah, yes…” You gasp, and if you hadn’t been so adamant on chasing your high, you would’ve noticed George quickly getting the camera and snapping a picture of you riding him. Hair a mess covering up your face but your mouth wide open in a moan, tits bouncing as you ride him, hands on his chest as support.

He’s just about managed to put the camera back down when he feels you squeezing him the tightest and that’s when you finally cum. “George! George! Ge–” You cry out his name like a prayer until it breaks down into a loud moan that tips him over the edge along with your cunt milking him dry into the condom as you sloppily continue to ride him.

“Fuck! Y/N!” George moans loudly, his hands going to your ass again to help you continue as he cums, his cock twitching the more he spurts into the condom, sweet relief making him see stars.

Unable to uphold yourself any longer, you collapse over him, chests heaving in sync as you both come down from your highs. It’s hard catching your breaths when your skin burns from the heat and sticks from the sweat. And George knows you’re rather uncomfortable from the way you groan into him, your fingers lazily trying to brush the hair out of your face but huffing as it sticks to your sweaty forehead.

He brushes your hair back, fingers delicately grazing your face and earning a soft smile and a sigh from you. But then his hold goes down to your hips so he can lift you up and off himself to set you beside him. You whine and pout at the loss of him, feeling so empty after he’s stuffed you to the brim.

You don’t even try to open your eyes, completely spent from your activities and snuggling into the pillows to find some comfort in your post orgasm haze.

George sits up on the edge of your bed and sheds himself off the condom, tying it so he can throw it away, and groaning as he pushes himself off the bed to make his way to the bathroom.

He takes about five minutes there and when he comes back into the room, he smiles, finding a sleepy you struggling to keep your eyes open and smirking at him. He giggles as he walks up to bed and after taking your camera and placing it on one of the bedside tables, he carries your bridal style to take you to the bathroom.

Yes you’re still on cloud nine after that orgasm but you still have a bit of sense in you then so, after thanking him with a kiss, you tell George you’re alright from there and he can wait for you in bed.

You only realize what you’d said as you wash your hands after peeing and you’re cringing just thinking about him being gone once you go back into the room. But you find that he hasn’t left and instead, he’s gone under the bedsheets and is waiting for you to cuddle up to him so you can get some rest.

You giggle like a fool when you get under the sheets and he hooks his arm around your waist to push you flush against him, your back pressed to his chest and he nuzzles into your neck from behind. Your legs tangle together and your breaths sync and slow down as the minutes go by until you succumb to their slumber.

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It’s bright outside when you wake up with the horrendous need to go to the bathroom, one that you’d been sleepily ignoring for a while but that had become too unbearable to endure anymore.

George has his hand around your waist and his leg thrown over yours, effectively keeping you trapped in his hold in bed, so you try to very slowly peel yourself away from him to escape to the toilet.

You’re careful so that you don’t wake him up just yet, but when you manage to get your legs untangled from his, he stirs and grumbles, “Where are you trying to go?” throwing his leg over yours again, his arm wrapping tighter around your waist making you chuckle.

“Bathroom.” You mumble as you try to get away again but he’s stubbornly holding you even tighter to him.

You feel him shake his head as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, a soft “No.” falling in your ears that makes you sigh.

“George.” You say softly to not disrupt the silence in the room, but he doesn’t reply so you try again a little louder this time, “George.” Once again, no response, so you end up whining, “Babyyyy.”

To the nickname he does listen, but his response is just a muttered, “Mhm?”

You turn around in his arms with a bit of struggle, cupping his face and pecking his lips a handful of times so he takes it as enough bribery to listen to you, “Please let me go. I’ll just be a minute.”

George steals one last long peck from you before smiling loopily and nodding, “Okay.”

He lazily retracts his limbs to let you get up freely from the bed, and though he’s fighting his sleep, he manages to peel his eyes open for long enough to watch your naked figure walk away from the bed and into your ensuite.

Keeping track of time is impossible to him when his eyes close again after you leave his line of sight, and he only opens his eyes again when he hears you giggle softly at the sight of him in your bed as you walk back to bed.

“You took longer than a minute.” He points out with his eyes still closed.

You snort and half heartedly apologize, “Sorry, I’m sore.”

His hand comes up to rub at his eyes, and when he does so, he sees the state in which you’ve come back so he frowns and tells you to, “Stop right there.” He sounds so serious, an amused smirk shows on your face because you have no idea what he’s about to say. An accusing finger waves in the air in your direction and he calls you out, “Why are you wearing a robe?”

“Shut up.” You say instantly when hearing that’s what is making him frown, your eyes rolling playfully at him.

“Get that off now.” He instructs but you take another step towards the bed with no intention of taking it off and he grumbles, “Y/N/N…” with a more stern tone that makes you too flustered for this time of day.

“You’re annoying.” You complain with a roll of your eyes, still listening to him and slowly undoing the knot that kept your robe closed, making it a little show as you open it up and let it fall off your body and pool at your feet on the floor.

Of course, George smirks at the sight and he has no shame in looking you up and down with hunger now shining on his sleepy eyes, his cock twitches just by seeing you naked in front of him again. Fuck, you’re stunning.

“Come here gorgeous.” The drummer invites you back into his arms and you don't have to be told twice for you to go back to bed and be the little spoon for him. You’d had such good sleep being completely enveloped in him, heavy limbs acting like a weighted blanket on you and it was utter bliss.

But after seeing you naked again, skin littered with love bites he had left all over your, hair messy and tits perky and bouncing as you walked, George feels the need to show you a bit more of the appreciation he had shown you the day before.

His hand brushes your hair to the side so he can have access to the skin on the back of your neck. Goosebumps breaking on the skin there when he starts pressing open mouthed kisses on it, fingers ghostly running down your back and stopping right on your lower back that had your back arching into him. Your ass grazed his cock every time, making it twitch and start to harden.

In search of friction, he pushes his hips forward and you reciprocate by pressing your ass against him. He keeps his actions going and sets a pace that the two of you keep up, mewling out loud when his hardening cock comes in contact with your cunt, “Hmm, George.”

“Yes, baby?” His lips brush against your skin, a shiver running down your spine and making you shudder, “You’re so fucking beautiful, please let me make you feel good.”

“Yeah…” You nod quickly, it’s a no-brainer. Your breath gets caught in your throat when he pushes his hips forwards again at the same time as you do and the tip of his cock presses on your clit.

“Yes?” He moans in your ear, hand coming around your front to play with your tits, “Can I make you cum again, sweetheart?”

You eagerly nod, swallowing a moan as he pinches your nipple and when he cup your whole tit with one hand, kneading it harshly, your “Please.” came out in the form of a whine.

“Good girl. M’gonna make you feel so good baby, I promise.” His hand continues playing with your tits as you keep grinding on each other. When his cock is hard enough, you feel it come up to rest heavily between his lower stomach and your lower back, and it’s then that he lets his fingers trail down until they hover over your mound and he breathlessly asks, “D’you trust me?”

“Yeah, George…” You’re basically pleading with him to continue, hand coming to clutch his and guide his fingers down to your soaked cunt and when he feels just how wet you are, he groans and pulls away.

“Wait.” George instructs you, leaving you alone on the bed to get a condom. You hear the wrapper rip and him moaning as he puts the condom on, stroking himself up and down a few times before he tugs the sheets off you and turns you from your side to your front so you’re face down and he can hover over you from behind.

His knees are on either side of your hips, forearms pressed on the mattress next to your shoulders and he kisses and sucks all over your back as he praises you for how gorgeous you are over and over.

He keeps bruising you up until you push your ass up and beg him to do something, the ache in your cunt too unbearable.

So George lets go of the patch of skin he’s bruising and does as you ask for, spreading your legs open as he kneels in between them and rubs his tip up and down your slit.

“Don’t tease, please.” You cry into the mattress, your cunt fluttering around nothing and it’s painful knowing just how good he felt inside you but he isn’t allowing you to feel it yet.

But then he just let himself slowly slip inside you and his jaw falls at your tightness in that angle, “Oh Y/N/N… Fuck me.” He feels like he can barely fit in, but you’re dripping with slick so it makes it a bit easier for him to slowly bottom out.

“George–” You choke out, head turning to the side to catch a glimpse of him. Your fingers clawing at the sheets beside your head for dear life.

“I know. You’re so tight.” He whimpers in pleasure, barely able to move an inch out of you because you’re so snug it feels like you’re pushing him out.

“Move baby, please.” You beg again and he starts going then, a slow pace at first that grows in speed rather quickly and has your cursing out loud, “Fuckkkkk!”

He gasps into your ear with every thrust, and it’s soon that the sound of your skin slapping drowns the room along with your moans. “Gonna miss this tight little cunt so much.” He says into your neck, sucking a bruise on the back of it before asking, “Gonna miss me too?”

“Ye– Yes! Oh shit baby!” You gasp when he hooks his left arm under your leg, pulling it upwards slowly and allowing you to stretch a bit more so you feel him even deeper, “Gonna miss you so much!”

He chuckles smugly, “I know you will.”

“Oh fuck!” You curse as he hits your g-spot perfectly from that angle, his hips hitting your ass and reminding you of how sore the skin there is from the spanking he gave you the night before. “Yes, yes! Don’t stop, please!”

“If you could only see yourself right now!” He curses under his breath when he looks down to see himself disappear into your cunt, over and over. If he keeps looking at how he keeps sliding in and out of you so easily, he will burst right then so he looks back up to your face and praises you once more, “Taking me so well, baby. You’re such a good girl.”

“Harder, please.” You ask in a whine, and he stills for just a second to get a better standing on his knees before giving it to you like you were begging to, making you instantly get even louder when he hits that sweet spot with more intensity, “Oh my– Fuck! Right there, yes!”

“Just like that, yeah?” His smirk grows on his face, feeling how it keeps getting easier to slide inside you which means you’re fucking drenched and dripping all over him, your walls fluttering around him already making him see stars.

“Yes! Yes!” You chant like a broken record, the coil in your lower stomach tightening by the second and threatening to snap at any moment, “I’m so close!”

His left arm lifts your leg even higher and then leaves it there to be able to bring his fingers down to rub at your clit and send you over the edge, “C’mon baby, cum for me sweetheart!” He encourages you as he rubs fast circles on your throbbing clit, which earns him choked out moans that turn into a throat ripping moan of, “F-fuckkkk! George!”

George feels you squeeze him so tightly as you cum, making it so much harder for him to continue thrusting in and out without losing the rhythm he’s set, he can’t hold it any longer, his hips stuttering as he cums and stilling as he spills his seed in the condom, “Ah shit! Y/N!”

His thrusts become sloppy and messy as he tries to ride out your highs while you spasm around him, whimpering as the aftershocks of your orgasm have your legs trembling under him and your white knuckle grip on the sheets falters.

Letting his weight fall over you almost entirely, George sighs in complete bliss and he kisses the back of your head and your cheek multiple times to say, “Did so good for me, sweetheart.” He drops a kiss on your lips and praises you once more, “My good pretty girl.”

The way he speaks to you makes your stomach flutter, and he feels it when you clench around him. “You like that huh?” He teases with a smirk, his nose brushing up your neck until he comes up to your ear and bites your earlobe to which you mewl in response.

He pulls out, hearing you whine when you feel upsettingly empty again but he rubs circles on your hips soothingly and asks, “Shall we go take a shower? Do you want me to help you up?”

You barely manage to reply with a quiet, “Mhm…” when a loud ringing snaps the two of you out of your wonderful post orgasm bubble.

You don’t really recognize the ringing so you figure it’s George’s phone. Yet, the drummer doesn’t make an attempt to go and get it, as he flops beside you in bed for a second before pushing himself off the bed and sheds himself off the condom you just used.

He gets up to discard it in the bathroom and just as he crosses the threshold of the ensuite, he hears his phone start ringing again. He fully ignores it again, taking his time in the bathroom until he hears you call out for him to pick up the unrelenting calls.

A grunt leaves his lips when he comes back to the room and picks up the phone only to read his sister’s name on the screen so he answers with a meek, “Y’alright?” to let her know he isn’t in the mood for the constant ringing.

You hear pure silence surrounding you for a good half minute before George sighs out an annoyed, “Fucks sake.” Opening your eyes to see him, you move onto your side to watch him as he speaks. “Right now? Really?” He asks, entirely unamused. “Yeah, really busy actually.” He says sternly, looking at you naked in front of him with wide eyes. That makes you purse your lips not to laugh but what gets the giggles out of you is when he sighs loudly and mutters, “I hate you.” to whoever it is on the phone.

It’s barely another half minute that he listens to whoever is on the other side, before he ends the call with an impatient, “Yeah, yeah. Sure. See ya’.”

“What’s wrong?” You ask curiously, your fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

George rolls his eyes at the situation, “My sister needs me for something. She says it’s urgent but I doubt it.” He shrugs then, ignoring the importance of whatever it was his sister needed him for, he had only been half listening really. “I can stay though, it wouldn’t be the first time I ignore her.”

That has you snorting in laughter, “Go, you idiot.”

“But–” He tries to argue as he comes to hover over you, head dipping to steal a kiss out of you which you break after a few seconds by pushing his shoulders softly so you can reassure him it’s fine. After all, you had really enjoyed yourself so you’re genuinely considering another date with him.

“It’s okay. I had the best time with you, and that’s all I wanted.” Your hands come to the back of his head, fingers digging into the hair at the nape of his neck and scratching his scalp softly.

George clicks his tongue and he pouts to joke, “Knew you only wanted me for my body.”

You cackle at his antics and tell him to “Shut up.” only to do it yourself by pulling him into you so you can share one last kiss. It’s sweet but it isn’t soft, your lips moving together with intent as if to prove you need to do it again because it’s just too good.

But you have to stop it before it can turn into something more. You pull on his hair so your lips separate with a smack and, with the sweetest smile and looking at him with doe eyes, you say, “Thank you, George.”

“I had the best time Y/N/N.” He replies wholeheartedly then, agreeing with your previous point.

“Me too.” You nod softly to reiterate, your hands coming back down to cup his jaw, thumbs rubbing circles on his skin.

One last short kiss is all you get in that bed before you both stand up and get dressed. Well, George does, in the same getup as the day before, while you put your robe back on and tie it around yourself slowly as he finishes getting his shoes on.

“I’ll see you soon for a second date, yeah?” He says when you walk him to the door, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You definitely will.” You assure, knowing you’d be texting him very soon about a second date if he doesn’t text you first about it.

He winks right as he opens the door, stealing one last peck from your lips before walking away. Leaving you with a stupid smile on your face that only gets bigger when you close the door behind you and go back to your room, seeing the mess you had left the bed looking like.

Yes, you were definitely going on a second date with him.

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A/N: What did you think? Hope you lot enjoyed it! Thank you for reading, I'm so excited to see your reactions! xx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @kennedy-brooke @drinkurkombucha @vinylandcoffeecollection @butyou-callmewhenyourebored

[suchusoid]

How other villains worked better as sympathetic where the league failed

I know I said I was going to make a post regarding my final oc villain, anonymous, but due to recents events, i just dont have the energy to do so. To clear my mind, I've decided to take a break from oc posts and talk about how certain character archetypes from this series are done betger by other shows, movies and books, starting with the league of villains.

For this comparision, I'll be comparing the LOV with a group of villains that actually inspired my oc (ghoulian my beloved) the sadler trio from the goosebumps book "ghost beach"

Is probably what you're thinking. The sadler trio are the ghosts of a trio of immigrant siblings from england who traveled to new england in hopes of a better life. Unfortunately, they ended up dying in cold and have roamed the beach as ghosts for 300 years. They long for companions in death and plan to take their distant cousins jerry and terri to the grave.

Louisa is the girl with the pigtails and velvet dress, sam is the boy with the white hair and black vest, and nat is the boy with the bowl cut and the striped t shirt, remember that now.

The first thing I want to talk about is the family dynamics

The leagues bonds are, for a lack of a better word, shaky. While we do see certain memebers like twice and toga showing genuinely nice moments of friendship, and magne being a well liked and respected member, earning her the title of "big sis mags", other members like shigaraki and dabi contradict the found family dynamic the story and fandom are selling. Shigaraki barely shows any care for his fellow members, when magne died, he was more concerned about staying on top while toga and twice actually wanted to avenge their fallen ally. Shigaraki also doesnt have any reaction to twices death either. Dabi is honestly worse as he refuses to pitch in at times, called spinner a derogetory slur, and then pulled a bruno marcotulli and said he shouldnt get upset about it. Spinners motives also dont align with shigarakis in the slightest, to the point where they straight up had to retcon his motives not once, but twice, just to make shigaraki seem like a good leader. Truth is their motives and personalities clash too hard for their dynamic not to feel forced.

The sadlers on the other hand actually do show genuine care and concern for each other, most notably when nat clings to louisa as a source of comfort when he gets scared and sam being the mediator and voice of reason, showing how they do care for eachother and work cohesively as a group, while the league is more dysfunctional than a 50's sitcom family.

Next is motives, the leagues motives at the end of the day, are to cause destruction and misery to whoever they please with no consequences, I really dont know how else to put it. Shigaraki wants to destroy everything, dabi wants to hurt his father and is willing to drag innocent people into the mix, toga gets off to killing, and the other three are just along for the ride with no qualms about their peers actions. This really doesnt help making them sympathetic when the story tries to shove a bunch of sad backstories in our face and say "please feel bad for them!"

Comparitively, the sadlers motives are far more understandable. At the end of the day, all they want is companionship. Its far more easy to get behind "we were robbed lf a decent life and have lived in solidarity on this beach for centuries with a guy whos been planning our downfall, we desperately want you to stay with us" as opposed to " we are societal outcasts who just want to lash out and makes things worse for everyone else without even trying to combat the societal issues that caused things in the first place."

On top of that, the sadlers actions, which include trying to kill harrison sadler( the ghost hunter) attempting to kill jerry and terri, and eating a dog (dogs can sense ghosts and would give them away.), while morally reprehensible , come from a place of desperation as opposed to malice. The sadler trio never take enjoyment out of their actions. Heck, when its revealed they're ghosts there practically on their hands and knees begging the twins to stay with them.

Thisis unlike the league, who take full pleasure in hurting others to achieve their goals *cough* toga *cough* shigaraki * cough* dabi * cough*.

Lastly is their fates, the sadlers are trpaped in magic cave the essentially sends ghosts to the afterlife and puts them to rest. Makes sense since their motives were from them being stuck in a proverbial limbo.

The leaghes fate is hori hyping up them being saved... and then all die or just get arrested, making their whole arcs feel like a waste of time.

Phew, now thats cleared up my min, I may get to doing anonymous' character sheet sometime soon, let me know what you guys think, and have a good evening!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Halt & Catch Fire: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: You're done being a puppet in their plans. You're done letting them control you. You're finally going to take back your life by becoming something you didn't know was possible. your eyes are opened to something better and God forbid anyone who disrespects you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Where is the damn thing? There are only so many places one can hide a remote. God, you could have sworn Dean had it here. You yank the mattress of the bed and haphazardly let it fall back onto the box spring. You open his dresser drawers and start flinging clothes out of it. I'm gonna fucking kill him. I'm going to fucking KILL HIM. Where is the damn thing?!

For the past month, you've made sure to be on your best behavior in hopes he would give up the remote for the thing on your neck. They're both still on edge with you being around but that's not your problem anymore. Your hands are itching to break something so you grab the first thing you can reach which just so happens to be a picture of you and Dean on your wedding day.

You pause to look at the picture and allow the memories to come flooding back.

"Do you, Dean Winchester, take Y/N Singer to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," he said.

He took your engagement ring and slid it onto your left ring finger, and you admired how it shined brightly as if it were meant to be there.

"Do you, Y/N Singer, take Dean Winchester to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," you sniffled.

You took out John Winchester's wedding ring and slid it onto Dean's left ring finger.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Dean pulled you in by your waist, and you met him halfway. Your lips molded together, fitting perfectly together. There are no two people better suited for each other than you and Dean. Your minds, bodies, and souls melded together so that you're one. There was no one else you wanted to spend the rest of your life with than Dean.

Now you can't think of anything worse than being his wife. You toss the picture onto the bed just as the bedroom door opens.

"What the hell did you do to my room?"

"I've been nothing but good this entire month. Get this damn thing off my neck."

"Not until your soul is back."

You take two deep breaths to calm yourself otherwise you'll strangle him.

"Baby, I'm fine. I'm okay now. I'll be good."

You slither up to his side and grab the sides of his face gently. You pull him down and kiss him to prove to him you'll do what you say you're gonna do. Dean knows this is a ploy but he can't help but kiss you back. Damn, he misses kissing you. You feel so good against him and he momentarily forgets what you're asking of him.

As your lips move against him, your hands roam his body. You make it seem like you just want to touch him when you're really looking for the damn remote. Something snaps in Dean's brain and he pulls away from you slightly.

"It's not on me."

You huff out in anger, push him away from you, and storm out of his bedroom. Dean starts cleaning his room when he spots the picture of you two at your wedding. Seeing that causes a headache to form. The headache gets so bad that he sinks to the ground with his head in his hands.

"Hello?! Dean!" you yell. "Anyone??"

The room you're in is pitch black but there is a white hue of it that isn't quite breaking into the room. You can barely see one foot in front of you so you have to walk around with your hands out in front of you. You hit the wall and feel around for a door or a window. Maybe a light switch if you're lucky.

All four corners and nothing. You're trapped inside of this box with nowhere to go and no one to talk to. Blue magic swirls around your hands with the hope of lighting your way. There is nothing in this room. Nothing to do. No one to talk to. No Dean. No Sam. You're completely alone.

"Please let me out, someone," you cry. You slide down the wall in tears. "I just want to go home."

A single tear leaves Dean's eye and he snaps out of this trance he's in. He shakes his head and wipes his tear in confusion. He gets off the floor and continues to clean his room. Once done, he leaves his room and finds Sam in the library.

"Hey, where's Y/N?"

"Kitchen. Cas got back to me. Good news and bad news. The bad news is that he discovered riverboat gambling. The good news is he thinks he's closing in on Cain."

"He thinks?"

"Yeah, just east of the Mississippi River in Illinois."

"So, what do you suppose we do when we find Cain?"

"We get him to tell us how to get rid of the Mark."

"Don't you think that if Cain knew how to remove the mark, he would have done it like centuries ago?"

"We won't know until we try."

"You're right. I think Y/N is getting worse. We need to figure out a way soon."

"We will," Sam nods. "On another note, I found us a case in Iowa. A teen claims possessed pickup truck killed the driver."

You cry out in pain from the kitchen and the brothers immediately head in there to see what you're doing. You have a knife to your neck to try and dig the device out. Sam snatches the knife away from you at the same time Dean grabs you so you don't go anywhere.

"Come on!"

"Not gonna happen. Come on. We have a case."

"Like I care about saving some stupid people."

"I don't care. You're going."

Ah, college. To be that young again. All of these students don't think anything bad can happen to them. Dean keeps his eyes to himself but Sam checks out a few of the girls who seem older than the rest. You don't hide how much you're checking out some of the young men walking around. Dean sees two girls walking outside with bookbags slung over their shoulders and approaches them.

"Which one of you is Janet Novoselic?"

"I am," the brunette says.

"Agents Grohl, Cobain, and Channing."

The blonde girl Janet is with says goodbye and leaves so Janet can be alone.

"I already talked to the police like nine times," Janet sighs.

"Yeah, this is just a follow-up."

"I have finals tomorrow."

"Then we'll make it fast. I promise," Sam smiles.

Janet takes you three to the library so you can talk in semi-private. You're browsing the books because you have no interest in hearing what she has to say while the brothers sit with Janet at a table nearby. Maybe one of these books will have something to do with getting this damn thing off your neck. One can hope, right?

"It's like I told the detective. I was drunk but I wasn't hallucinating. The truck had a mind of its own."

"How so?"

Dean looks at you in thought. You take a book off the shelf and flip through the pages. When you're not satisfied with it, you slam the book back on the shelf angrily. You scratch at the device on your neck and continue looking. What is he going to do with you? Sooner or later, you're going to fight back. He doesn't want to be on the receiving end because you'll fight to kill.

"Like the air went full blast even though it wasn't on, and Trini and the radio went crazy"

"Who is Trini?" Dean asks.

"You'll have to excuse my partner," Sam chuckles. "When it comes to technology, he's a little behind. He just learned how to poke on Facebook. "

"Okay. Trini is the navigation app we were using. It's this talking map. Look, I don't expect you to believe me, but I swear that truck was hell-bent on killing Billy."

"Did Billy have any enemies? Anybody who might have had a beef with him?"

"Maybe his brother Joey. They fought all the time. It's so sad. They never got to set it right."

"Because Billy died?"

"No, Joey did in Afghanistan."

"Do you know where he's buried?"

"He's not. Poor guy never came home. IED."

"Did Billy happen to have anything of his brother's on him when he died? Dog tags, a hat, something?" Dean asks.

"Just his pickup. The truck belonged to Joey. Billy got it when he died."

Dean looks back at you and locks eyes with you. Something sparks between you two and he's suddenly watching a movie of your entire life together.

You open the door and see the broken young boy by the bathtub. Upon seeing you, he tried to get himself to stop crying even though his tears wouldn't stop flowing. His eyes have a broken look in them that leads to a broken soul. You get tears yourself because you hate seeing him like this.

You close the door and join him on the floor.

"Why are you crying?" He shakes his head but keeps eye contact with you. "Come on, Dean, you can tell me. I'm good at keeping secrets. I even brought Legos with me so we could play with them."

"It's my mommy," he whispers. 

At the mention of his mom, he sobs. You overheard John talk about how his wife died recently to your mother. You don't know how she died but you know how much Dean loves her. You reach out to Dean with a tiny hand and place it on his even tinier shoulder.

"Don't cry."

"I just miss her so much."

You're not sure how to help so you do the only thing you can think of. You pull him into you and place his head on your chest. Even at five years old, you know how to comfort someone when they're sad.

"It's okay, Dean. I can share my mommy. She's great. She makes my lunch and reads me bedtime stories and sings with me. She can come over here and she can help you. I promise I won't be sad. I don't want you to be sad so I'll share my mommy with you."

Dean sniffles and looks at you with the tiniest of smiles on his face. He nods after a moment and wipes his tears.

"You can come over again and you can even sleep there. We can share my bed! It's very comfy and I'll even let you hold my blankie. I can share my toys and you can have half my sandwich."

Dean gives you a real smile, feeling much better now that you are with him.

"You said you brought Legos with you?"

You put the bag of Legos in front of him. If he wants to play in the bathroom, then that's what you'll do. You like seeing him smile.

You walk into the freezing cold bedroom knowing that is a sign the spirit is occupying the room. Before Dean can follow you in, the door slams shut, locking you in. You scream and jump back from the door with your gun out in front of you.

"Y/N! Stay calm! I'm going to get you out!"

The room is silent except for the sounds of your heavy breathing. God, it's so cold in here. Suddenly, the closet door creaks open and you turn with wide eyes and a pounding heart. You make the stupid decision and walk into the closet. It slams shut causing you to turn around and face the spirit you're haunting.

The spirit throws you against the wall and your gun goes flying out of your hands. You aren't fast enough to grab it and the spirit grabs you by your throat. He slashes your ribs with his sharp claws and you scream out in pain. Well, the scream is strangled due to the ghost holding you up by your throat.

"DEAN!" you manage to scream.

The closet door busts open and the spirit drops you to the ground to face the other hunter. Dean shoots the spirit and rushes over to you. He lifts your shirt to see the damage the spirit did. Three long and deep gashes run across your abdomen that are oozing blood. He sheds his jacket and places it over your wounds to stop the bleeding.

"I don't want to die," you cry.

"You're not going to die. I will protect you. I will take care of you."

The spirit appears behind Dean with an evil look. Before you have a chance to say something, the spirit goes up in flames. John must have burned the thing it's attached to. You need to get this wound sewn up quickly. As much as you love Dean, you don't trust him with a needle yet. 

"I won't let anything happen to you. You're going to be okay." Dean says, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

John and Dean help you out to the car but instead of sitting in the front like he always does, Dean joins you in the back. You lean against Dean's chest as he holds you, and you look down at his ruined jacket.

"Sorry about your jacket," you grunt.

"Forget the jacket. You're more important," he says and kisses the side of your head.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[anodetoswag]

Pelagic

Act II

Summary: Caution! Underestimating a hobo lead may lead to potential death. Note: Canon divergent; Unlike normal, Quirks appear only in 80 percent of the population and can appear anytime until the age of ten. These select few individuals are considered important in a hierarchy.

The market is your terrain. Hustling, bustling with stray dogs and stray hawkers that bark at said stray dogs like an irony of nature. Crowds, you think, are wonderful. The best stories seem to have one; regardless of how said stories end.

But to you, they're wonderful because of their utility. You slip in easily, with a practiced sort of grace. While your size makes it easy to not be spared a second glance, it makes it a little problematic to look over the crowd. You've gotten used to making it work by now.

The ideal prey is one that looks foreign but sailors and merchants are best avoided. They're cunning and watch their pockets with vigilance. Tourists are the optimum targets.

You'd already caught sight of one. A bogus sort of hairstyle, if one would be generous enough to call it that. Flamboyant clothes and talking loud enough for him to stand out despite the ambience not exactly being quiet. Nearing the food stall, your eyes sweep the perimeter in search of any potential witnesses to what you're hoping to pull off. Some may not consider it necessary since the chances are next to none but overconfidence is a habit of fools.

You breeze past the stranger easily and blend back into the crowd. The pouch isn't particularly heavy which is good news. He's less likely to notice before it's too late.

Victory lays just up ahead at the archway that serves as one of the exits to the market. A few steps more and you'll have this in your pocket. Unfortunately, luck seemed to have run out as the hand of justice clamps down around your elbow.

"I think you took something that you weren't supposed to." You're met with glowing red eyes and the man who they seemingly belonged to seemed worse off than you. That's saying something when coming from someone who has only ever recalls sleeping under bridges and drinking from the sewage more often than not. "I think you have the wrong person," the words are said with practiced conviction. He stares into your eyes, hair seemingly defying gravity. One of those people, Quirk Users.

"Where are your parents?" Your lips twitch down momentarily, confirming his suspicions. Upon your silence, he seems to give up and straighten back to full height. Eyes turning pitch black and hair falling back down shoddily over his shoulders.

Your saving grace comes in the form of an almost ear piercing from the same lovely boisterous gentleman you had nicked. Bless his soul, "Shouta!" Just as who you assume said person turns, you're turning on your heel and rushing to get through the crowd of bodies to get out of the market.

They're hot on your tail, it's been over five minutes of sprinting without rest and yet your pursuers are relentless. Twists, turns, down the streets and alleyways until you're in a questionable area of town anyone without a death wish would avoid. But you know this place, it gives you home turf advantage.

Rounding a corner, your bare feet skid against the dirt. A distinct feeling of something not being right settles in your chest. Your heart is roaring in your ears but you know your hearing is reliable enough to know that instead of two, there's only one pair of footsteps chasing after you. Hoping to confirm if one of them gave up halfway, you sneak a glance over your shoulder, only to run into something solid. Your fears are confirmed when you realize it's the hobo; you're cornered.

Of all things the universe could have heard you complain about and try to redeem itself, 'This is such a humdrum day to be alive' has got to be pretty far down the list of things and yet here we are.

[silvfyre-writings]

I'll keep you safe while you sleep (BSD Fanfic)

I break out of my hibernation long enough to drop this fic. Enjoy~

It was dark.

So very dark.

For as long as he could remember, Ranpo didn’t like the dark. The dark was like ice; cold and slippery against his bare skin as he walked through it, leaving him shivering and feeling damp even though there wasn’t actually any ice there to be felt in the first place. It was also incredibly lonely, the pitch black surrounding him, giving him the illusion that there were people there, compressing him, preventing him from breathing properly when in fact it was the opposite and that no one was actually there. It was suffocating in the sense that while he could breathe, it felt forced, like it was a conscious effort instead of unconscious, almost as if the air was heavy with something unbreathable.

So yes, Ranpo hated the dark.

And yet it had been his closest companion for so long.

It was there in the early years of his life when his parents would turn out the lights and leave him in a pitch black room—because they’d lived in such a small village that the only light was that of the moon and when the moon was gone, it was dark—at least until they’d figured out he wasn’t sleeping, and bought little light that kept the room light enough. It was there when his parents had died and he’d left everything he’d ever known behind to seek the help of someone his father had trusted, only to have that trust thrown into his face, and be tossed onto the streets where the darkness there held all sorts of people. It was there when the assassin he’d run into by chance, had seen something in him that none of the other adults had, and although that encounter shed a little bit of light on his life, the darkness still hung around because that assassin wasn’t his parents, and never would be.

And that was okay, because Fukuzawa understood that he wasn’t a replacement, and never tried to be, only stepping into Ranpo’s life to lend him a guiding hand.

But this darkness that he was currently trapped within was nothing like the darkness he knew; it was foreign and wrong, and he just—

—he didn’t know.

Ranpo froze, eyes wide and staring into nothing at the realisation that he didn’t know what this darkness was, or what was causing it, because that wasn’t right. Something was wrong. He was supposed to know everything, that was who he was, what he was good at, his sole reason for existing in this world. Not knowing just wasn’t in his vocabulary. Not knowing made him useless to those associated with him, to those that required his skills. Not knowing made him feel cold and—and alone… and he couldn’t be alone.

Without a second thought, Ranpo took off, his bare feet slapping against the ground as he ran, a wind streaming past him, which was strange because the air was still and thick. His chest heaved, although he did not breathe, and he was still cold, even though running should’ve warmed him. Something was wrong, and he was aware of that, but there was nothing that he could do. It was like the darkness had taken him over, herding him deeper into its clutches; an impossible feat really, because the darkness wasn’t alive, it wasn’t living, it was simply a thing, an absence of light that both scared people and brought them comfort.

And right now, it was terrifying.

He continued to run and run, never veering from his path, never looking behind him, yet still, the darkness did not end. And he feared it never would. His heart began to pound so loud that he could hear it in his ears; it was the only noise in this dark and hellish place. It was then that he saw it, a light, in the distance, and as cliché as it was, he went towards it, desperate to escape the dark. It didn’t matter if what awaited him on the other side was worse, if it wasn’t dark, he could handle it. The light drew closer, and Ranpo reached towards it. He could feel it—the warmth that the light would bring, dancing at his fingertips as he wished for it to envelop him and chase away the darkness.

But then the light disappeared, plunging him back into darkness.

No, no, no, no, come back, ple—

With a jerk, Ranpo’s eyes flew open, and he found himself blinded by the sun coming in through the windows of the Agency’s building. For just a moment, he continued to lay there with his face pressed against his desk as he sorted through his muddled thoughts. A dream, that was all that crushing darkness had been, and whilst dreams had never affected Ranpo before, this one left him with a racing heart and trembling hands, and he wasn’t a fan.

When Ranpo finally did lift his head, he took note of everyone in the office, or well, distinct lack of people in the office. The only other people here beside him were Tanizaki and Kunikida, neither of which gave Ranpo a passing glance and continued to quietly work away at their desks, focused. Good, that’s good. It meant that he hadn’t made enough of a disturbance to gain the attention he very much did not want, if only because they would show their concern and Ranpo had had enough of that to last a lifetime.

He pushed away from his desk and stood, intending to go down to the café on the first floor and get himself something warm to drink to chase off the fear that still lingered. A hot chocolate would do, or even a mocha, so that he wouldn’t fall asleep at his desk again. He couldn’t even remember when he’d fallen asleep; one minute he’d been playing on his handheld, and the next, he was dreaming, something that had been happening a lot lately now that he thought about it, but regardless, it couldn’t have been too long, since the sun was still high in the sky, and still rising.

Well, if the drink didn’t help him, then he’d nag Kunikida for a case that would distract him further.

His plans for foiled when he walked past the couches and caught a glimpse of a familiar set of boots, and he paused, following the boots up the lanky form that was attached to them until his eyes met the sleeping face of a certain vampiric gift user. Ever since he’d regained his body after the whole, vampire outbreak situation, Bram had taken to hanging around the Agency, often utilising the couches for a midday nap like he currently was. No one seemed to know why he hung around, yet no one was complaining about it either. And right now, Bram’s face was peaceful, relaxed in the sleep he was caught in, with no sign of a bad dream plaguing him, and that was all it took for Ranpo to change course.

He'd always slept better with someone else after all, and he and Bram were… something at this point, so who would begrudge him for seeking the company of someone important? His co-workers had so far ignored the way he and Bram had gotten close so fast, powering right through friendship into whatever they were—only Kunikida had expressed his concern, because that was just what he did, but otherwise leaving Ranpo be, and telling him he was happy for as long as Ranpo continued to be.

Dazai, of course, couldn’t resist making the joke that Ranpo was building his own army of goths, which Ranpo had gone to dispute, only to realize that the only other person he trusted the same way he now trusted Bram, was in fact, a goth. Although, since Bram had chosen to wear a yellow hoodie that day—never mind his jacket that had caused him to be called a goth in the first place was draped over the back of the couch—one could argue that he wasn’t so much a goth as he was… edgy.

Bram’s eyes flew open the moment that Ranpo threw himself on top of the other man, and his mouth opened to say something before it slammed shut; Bram simply stared at him for a moment, studying Ranpo carefully and observing the tension in his body, before he dragged himself to sit up a bit, shifting the pillow behind him so that he could remain comfortable whilst Ranpo got situated. Only once Ranpo stopped moving, now half-laying on him, and half-fallen in the gap between him and the back of the couch, did he move, winding his arms around the detective’s waist, and pulling his coat from the back of the couch to let Ranpo use as a blanket. Bram’s eyes slipped closed again. “Your friends will not get mad that you are shirking work to slumber with me?”

“I’ll just get you to bite them if they do.” Ranpo mumbled into Bram’s shirt, already tired and drifting towards sleep again.

“No thank you, bite them yourself if you must.” One of Bram’s hands found its way into Ranpo’s hair, long fingers dragging through the black tresses in a way that had Ranpo sighing contentedly as he snuggled closer. “You are bothered by something.”

“Unwanted dreams.”

“What kind?”

Ranpo shivered at the question, and if it had been anyone else asking, they wouldn’t have received an answer. But ever since he had met Bram, the other always seemed to know how to get Ranpo to answer him honestly, whether Ranpo wanted to or not. It was a little annoying at times, but just this once, it was okay. “Darkness. I don’t like the dark.”

“You have come to the right person then.” Bram murmured, holding Ranpo just that little bit closer to him to help soothe him. “As the Lord of Darkness, the dark listens, and bends to my will, therefore, it will leave you alone should you wish to slumber some more.”

In lieu of saying anything, Ranpo wound his arms around Bram, and held him tight, letting his head come to rest against the other’s chest, his heart beating steadily beneath his ear. He allowed that heartbeat to soothe him, the hand that was still in his hair to relax him until eventually, his eyes closed and his grip loosened. It was as he was drifting off again, that Bram shifted underneath him, and he felt what could only be lips, brushing against his forehead before quiet words were whispered for his ears and his alone. “Sleep well, little detective. Allow me to protect you when you are at your most vulnerable.”

[daintyduck99]

Never have I ever: Omegaverse, lol. #sorrynotsorry

I’ve never written anything for omegaverse, but if I did: 

The boys still come back as ghosts. Alex still takes it the hardest—as a beta, he had never had to worry about any of the crazy secondary gender stuff. He could always rely on his body to obey his mind (and when his mind’s a chattering mess he just drowns it out with the drums). 

Now he’s non-corporeal—it’s a big fucking change. 

However, there are other changes too. Secondary genders have evolved some since the boys died. Scents are stronger, and everyone smells like weirdly specific things now (Alex doesn’t want to believe this because every scent Luke and Reggie are describing sound like candle names, only when Julie starts agreeing does he even vaguely buy it). And like. Why. How is this making people mate more, was none of the crazy newish baby-making biology enough. 

Actually, Alex kind of wants to go back to the dark room. What the fuck. 

Medicine has also evolved. They make blockers and suppressants that don’t slowly kill you now, and a lot of people—those that can afford them, at least—are on them. Luke and Reggie initially assume that Julie’s a beta because of this, and she doesn’t bother to correct them. 

Alex has another layer of connection in his interactions with Willie, as Willie also relates to everything being so crazy different since he died. It helps to see how Willie takes it in stride despite having been dead longer (and how much worse things were for omegas when he died). 

Things are also more progressive in terms of like, non-traditional A/B/O dynamics, so that’s nice. Alex’s parents could barely withstand him being gay—they sort of had to, what with the church’s relatively new yet solid stance on it in light of secondary genders emerging a few decades before—they probably would’ve kicked him out if he ever brought home anybody who wasn’t also a beta. Anybody like Willie, who’s sort of the best thing that’s ever happened to Alex. 

You know Caleb would also find a way to take advantage of the whole thing. Like, maybe it’s part of his pitch to beta lifers: come hang out with some ghosts who are just like you otherwise (some, like Willie, are actually recent enough to have secondary genders besides beta but Caleb has them on blockers—if he can make food work, why not those—just in case any of the lifers who do come aren’t betas). 

Reggie catches Julie stress-nesting at some point—originally he was looking for his flannel. She’s a little embarrassed at having been caught (especially since the shirt is in there—never mind that she also has stuff from Luke and Alex and Carlos and Ray) but he’s so happy that she can’t be embarrassed for too long. Like, he literally lifts her off of the floor and all he can say is oh my god you’re like me! and your nest is so good, please teach me your ways. 

Luke and Alex catch them napping in there later. Alex totally makes fun of Luke for being all stereotypical alpha heart eyes about them but Luke says he has no room to talk because he’s also infatuated with an omega, which, fair. 

That’s all I have really, it’s basically what if canon also had all of this A/B/O worldbuilding lol

[jimmymiller99]

My personalized Jeff The Killer origin story, part one. Now before I begin, I'd like to start by saying your JTK may be entirely different than mine, so expect to see some either minor or major changes to the origin story, so please, don't harass me just because of somethings are different than yours. Okay? Okay, let's begin!

The Sad Smile, part one.

[It was just a morning like any other. The sun was shining and the sky was beautiful, the clouds had set in just perfectly, and it was perfect. Only problem was that it would be the last morning the Pattinson family would ever see as they prepared to move to California. Jeff's stepfather, Bobby had finished loading up his car with the last of the Pattinson household things and slammed the trunk close.]

Bobby: Alright everyone, it's time to go.

[The rest of the Pattinson family walked out of their house, it was a beautiful little suburban house that was admittedly starting to fall apart. But hey, it was home to Jeff. Jeff dragged himself outside to his stepdad's car, but not before taking one last look at the house. He then sighed and got into the car. Jeff's mother, Elizabeth got into the passenger seat and finally, Liu got into the back with Jeff. Bobby then backed up and drove away from the house, leaving it behind. Jeff sighed and laid back, embarking on a day-and-a-half journey from Brooklyn to California. Liu got onto his phone, connected to his Bluetooth, and began listening to some poppy K-pop music, it made Jeff groan, which in turn, made Jeff plug in his earbuds and played some heavy thrash metal. The two of them were very different people, one was angry that had some hate building up within him, while the other was more cheerful and perhaps optimistic values within him. As the journey to the city of Angels continued, Jeff slowly fell asleep while on the car ride, laying his head up against the window. That's when things would slowly turn to the worse, as they drove under a tunnel, his music turned into static, aggressive static rang from his earbuds, then eventually, a voice came out on the other end. The voice was growling, low, deep, mysterious.]

The Voice: Wake up, Jeffery. Wake up and listen to my voice. Awaken and listen to my call. The need for violence shall call upon you, death shall wonder and find you.

[Jeff slowly woke up, but he wasn't in his stepdad's car anymore, he was in a forest with a shit ton of fog surrounding the area, it felt like it could go on forever, but there would be no end.]

The Voice: Hey tough guy, wake up! Wake up, you piece of shit, wake up and hear my fucking voice. You know who you are, I have selected you to be a part of this wonderland, my wonderland. Now, WAKE THE FUCK UP!

[Jeff fell to his back and crawled away as he saw darkness approaching him, he then turned and ran away from said darkness, it didn't make sense to him. Was this all a dream? Was he pulled into an alternative dimension? Or was he losing his sanity? Jeff ran for what felt like forever, and what felt like his end, he was suddenly awakened by an awful high-pitched tone. Which woke up Jeff out of the nightmare, but back into the nightmare of real life, and to his brother's awful singing.]

Liu: Uh oh! I don't know about you! But I feel this way!

[Jeff groaned and rubbed his eyes, he barely woke up and was feeling all sorts of blah. Luckily, the car was coming to a stop next to a motel. It wasn't the greatest motel of all time, but hey, a motel would have to do. Jeff got out of Bobby's car and stretched his back.]

Bobby: Ah, I see you're up, champ. Well, we're gonna stay in a motel for the night, we'll keep going at the ass crack of dawn, but we all need some sleep.

Elizabeth: C'mon honey, let's get you to bed.

[Elizabeth always talked to Jeff as if he was five years old, even though he was 18. He groaned and collected his bags and walked into the motel, staying close to his family and entering the room they bought for the night. They sat around the TV and ate some microwaved tuna casserole that Elizabeth made before embarking on this journey. Elizabeth cleaned up the plastic Tupperware containers and stuffed them back into her bag. Everyone got into their PJs, making sure the car was locked and that the room was locked and everyone got into bed. Luckily, there were three separate beds, so Jeff and Liu didn't have to share a bed. Jeff got into his bed, and his parents were fast asleep, and his brother barely drifted off to sleep, it was just him. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking back to the little nightmare he had in the car. It felt so real that he swore he'd grown goosebumps from it, he lay in bed and quietly prepped talked himself.]

Jeff: Hopefully this will be better then last time...

[With that said, Jeff drifted off to sleep as he laid back and entered into the unconscious feeling of death, known as sleep.]

The End of Part One.

[jodilin65]

FRIDAY, JANUARY 31, 2014 Yesterday we had the time of our lives, even if today we’re paying for it with the sunburn from hell. Despite using waterproof sunscreen, neither of us can worry about a lack of vitamin D, that’s for sure!

I’m having so much fun and loving this climate so much that I don’t want to go home. I miss my bed, my rats and my stuff, but I don’t want to go home to have to go back to work, clean the house, and deal with a million doctor appointments.

I love that there are hardly any blacks here. I don’t think I’ve even heard anyone speaking Spanish. Crime is barely existent here without these degenerate scumbags everyone seems to worship, especially in the West and the Southeast.

We drove to a parking lot for Trilogy catamaran sailing tours, which normally cost $200 per person, and then walked a few blocks to the harbor where tons of boats for different companies were docked. There were tons of touristy shops along the way and an area with trees where I never heard so many birds at once. There had to be hundreds of them! They were in a huge tree given to Lahaina as a gift from Japan.

There were two catamarans, each able to hold 55 people, and each shorter than our house. Captain Jill, a deeply tanned blond, navigated the boat across to another island whose name I already forgot (Oahu?). There were 3 other crew members, two women, also blond and tanned, and a guy.

I thought it ridiculous that one of the passengers brought an infant onboard of all things. Wouldn’t it have been terrified? Well, if it was wailing its ass off I wouldn’t know it over the boat’s engine, the wind, and the fact that I wasn’t sitting near it. Overall there doesn’t seem to be many kids here. A reflection of the falling birthrate? Or maybe it’s cuz people without kids can barely afford such an expensive place let alone with them.

Anyway, it was a little warm in the direct sunlight, but once we got sailing full speed, the breeze was wonderful. They would stop every time someone would spot a whale and people would take pics like crazy. I hated it when people would get in the way and there was this one guy I practically wanted to pitch overboard, but hopefully when I check out the pics when we get home I will find I got some decent whale shots. It was hard to see what I was shooting at, so I would just point and shoot like crazy and hope for the best.

There was this area in front where you could sit on these thick nets and see straight down to the water, but we were content to just sit on the bench and stand at the rails.

The first thing we were served was cinnamon rolls, then assorted fruits like watermelon, honeydew melon and pineapple. The last thing we were served was wraps. There was tuna, chicken and turkey. Naturally, Tom hated everything but the cinnamon roll.

The people were young and old but mostly older folks. Some were thin and hot, others fat frumps like me. Gotta hand it to those with bellies bulging worse than mine who had the guts to wear bikinis. Some were as pale as I am, but most were tanned. Well, I’m a mix of white and lobster red right now, LOL.

We’ve had sunny weather most of the time, but they’re predicting rain for the weekend. That’s okay, we’ve had our share of sunshine, and submarines go underwater anyway.

According to the boat crew, the deepest waters we sailed over were 350 feet deep, and whales can go as shallow as 60 feet or less. Once the catamaran docked at the island, we were greeted with a shell necklace similar to the ones the hotel gave us, and then we took a long hot walk down to the beach. Diving into that ocean felt so damn good as hot as I was once they finally finished their safety speech and all that stuff.

Then came the best part of the trip – snorkeling! You know how I said this resort and the area is just like I’ve seen in pictures? Well, so was what I saw underwater! Now it’s the same people overseeing all the activities, mind you. The catamaran crew also takes you snorkeling or on a tour of the city, if that’s what you prefer instead, and they also cook your dinner. What a job, huh? Sailing, sunning, snorkeling and cooking all day long.

So one of the girls got me fitted in a thing you wrap around your waist that keeps you afloat, and my goggles, after she sprayed something in them to keep them from fogging up. They had prescription goggles, but since I’m still farsighted enough, I was okay with regular ones. She walked me out past the breakers (as I’ve learned, you can’t just walk into the ocean here anytime you want if you don’t want to get knocked down, and must go between swells) and once I was up to my chest in the water I put my flippers on.

Tom’s camera can go underwater, and he shot some pics and videos. He wishes he got the nicer camera for $200. We just didn’t think we’d use it enough.

So off I went and at first I was like, why is this so impressive to most people? There’s nothing to see but sand… then there they were! Clumps of coral and the most beautiful tropical fish of all kinds and colors! It was almost like swimming through a giant aquarium! I couldn’t help but think, from poverty to this?!?! Wow! We went out to where we were in 20-30 feet of water and words can’t describe just how spectacular it was!

After that and some regular swimming, we passed up the walk to the tide pool and just hung out till it was time for the barbecue. I was so pissed that I didn’t bring my other sandals since my new ones caused my feet to blister a bit, and putting on socks and sneakers is a bitch even after you’ve used the freshwater shower to get the sand off of you. Being humungous didn’t help either. I am utterly appalled and disgusted by how big I’ve gotten and how it’s hindering my mobility. I’m sick of it. I vowed to myself that if I can’t get the fucking weight off the healthy way once they’ve tweaked my new medication, then the unhealthy way it is! Gotta wonder, though, would I have gotten this fat if my thyroid hadn’t crapped out on me?

At one point I was about 6” too close to the shore when a wave had just begun to curl and smacked me real hard in the chest. That’s what I get for not paying attention.

The only annoyances at the beach were the same landscapers I have to deal with nearly every day at home blowing the grassy areas and walkways, and someone jackhammering in one of the buildings up at the summit of one of the hillsides surrounding the bay.

After a few hours of beach time, we walked back down the road to the pavilion where our boat was docked and gathered at picnic tables. A blond version of Marsha Gay Harding sat across from us as we were served a meal I wasn’t very impressed with at all. First up was a roll and salad. I didn’t eat all the salad, wanting to save room for dinner, but had I known it would be these boring noodles and veggies with peas, plus chicken marinated in something really weird tasting, I would’ve finished the damn salad like Marsha was smart enough to do. I was surprised Tom ate some of the chicken, but at that point, he was too hungry to care. So I drank down my grapefruit juice and then we waited on the grassy cliff while the crew bussed the tables.

Over the time we sailed back, I had pineapple juice, ice cream, and a white wine that tasted more like beer. Of course Tom laughed at that one and said I was crazy.

The wind tossed my pink sequined hat off onto the deck toward the end of the trip, but fortunately, I caught it before it could join the whales.

They unfurled the sails on the way back, but not for long since there wasn’t much wind. What wind there was felt so good, though coming back was a little chillier as the sun began to set. By the time we pulled into the harbor and Captain Jill docked our boat, the sun had just dipped below the island.

Later…

Was out on the patio whale watching earlier. The island may have many birds, but it sure doesn’t have as many bugs as you’d think it would have.

Also, I’m amazed at just how often people seem to be in their rooms here. Yes, they’re expensive but don’t they too, want to be off doing things? Every time we’re in our room, so are they. Or so it seems.

We were out all day yesterday and most of today. Sleeping hasn’t been too difficult, but I’m so drained from the sun and all the activity that I need to sleep forever. Plus I wake up a lot along the way, so I’m in bed a total of 10 hours some days. I’ll probably sleep for 12 once we get home. My schedule’s been okay so far, but the next few days will get harder. Monday actually may be hell on me, but we leave that day so being shorted one day won’t kill me. I always wished I were one of those who only needed 6 or 7 hours of sleep or less, but (shrugs) I am how I am, sleep-needy and all. Meanwhile, it’s early evening now and I really hope they stop banging by the time I’m ready to crash in an hour or two.

Until I do crash, let me cover today’s fun so I don’t get behind. We went to Lulu’s again and I got the steak, eggs and hash browns I liked a lot the last time and Tom got a ham and cheese omelet.

After breakfast, I bought stamps and mailed my postcards to Tammy, Andy, Paula, Eileen and my Italian Dad, and then we went to a mall with a dozen or so fun shops. Pricy, but nice. The boutiques had the things Hawaii’s famous for on their clothes, magnets and other things – plumeria and hibiscus flowers, as well as palm trees and pineapples. We also went to a strip of stores down by the harbor.

He grabbed a blizzard and me a soda at Dairy Queen, then later on we returned to the mall where I got a heaping container of pork fried rice at a Chinese place that is actually quite good. I just wish the container wasn’t so flimsy. I have the leftovers in the fridge for later.

From all the stores we went to we gathered 3 shirts for him, a black tank for me with “Maui, Hawaii” written in bright rainbow colors, a hot pink tank with “Maui” in silvery glitter, a black tee with colorful metallic studs, a black sleeveless dress with large pink hibiscus flowers on it, a colorful cover-up, a pink skirt with colored flowers along its hem, 4 pairs of panties in pink, purple and blue, a necklace with a pink-gemmed flip-flop, a pair of floral flip-flops that are more comfortable than the other ones, a pineapple sun catcher with crystals, and 4 magnets. The magnets consist of a sunset and palms, a hula dancer, a blue-gemmed dolphin, and a female figure’s upper body in a pink bikini top. That one has a bottle opener on it. I also got a 3D bookmark of a tropical scene cuz it was just so cool looking even though I don’t read regular books anymore.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 30, 2014 Slept both well and shitty. Woke up several times, had that lower back pain I sometimes wake up with at home, and of course Tom snores like hell. It doesn’t wake me up once I’ve fallen asleep, but trying to sleep to it isn’t easy.

The muscles in my calves are sore from climbing the sandy hills to get to the beach yesterday, but I will get to that later. I want to backtrack in order.

The rain was nice at first, especially since I live in such a deserty climate that rarely sees rain. But by the second day, I was ready for it to stop. It finally did just that in the afternoon so we could enjoy the beach and pool.

The weather, pool, beaches and the resort as a whole are absolutely gorgeous! Just like I’d see in pictures. I miss my bed and my rats, but a part of me never wants to return home either. If it weren’t so damn expensive I’d be mighty tempted to retire here someday. We decided we would definitely be back at least to visit and that we could do a comfortable trip with under 5K. Definitely want to live in Florida or some tropical climate if not Hawaii. I’m sick of cold places, dry places, and shit like that. My skin and ear love this climate. My bad ear hasn’t ached at all except for when we first arrived. That was probably due to the pressure on the plane.

They apparently searched our luggage at the airport because when we opened it there was a card saying so. Doesn’t look like they stole anything, but as Tom said, if they were going to take anything, why leave us a note?

The Wi-Fi is out now and the connection is slower than hell. That’s partly because we don’t want to pay the $17 a day they want to give us a faster connection and partly because this laptop is ancient. We don’t use the net often enough to be worth paying for a faster connection nor do we want to. Vacations should be about having fun and not about doing what you usually do at home. The only thing I’m doing that I usually do is documenting this trip. Writing is my passion, vacation or not.

The room comes with a microwave, mini-refrigerator/freezer, coffeemaker, safe, big screen TV, iron, makeup mirror, hairdryer, mouthwash, shampoo, conditioner, soap, shower gel and other vanity items. We get robes and slippers too, but can only take the slippers home. I like them even though they’re not plush. Our housekeeper is a lady from the Philippines and she’s only in once a day instead of the annoying 2 or 3 times a day the guy tended to us on the ship.

Yesterday morning we went to a restaurant called Lulu’s for breakfast. Their prices were comparable to Denny’s. It was nice that Tom could get something he liked since he hated almost everything they served on the plane. I got steak and eggs with hash browns and it was damn good.

We have a private patio with a 10-foot stretch of grass beyond it with a rocky cliff that drops off and down to the ocean. The water’s about 10-15 feet below us. Wish the chain link fence with the flower hedges wasn’t obstructing some of the view, but overall it’s a damn good view. We’ve seen whales here and there, too. I didn’t know they came here. I thought they stuck to colder areas up north, but they come here to breed.

After Lulu’s, we picked up some snacks and TV dinners from Safeway to take back to the room. That way we don’t have to pay their outrageous room service fees. They want 11 bucks just for a lousy bowl of cereal.

The rest of the day was spent at our leisure. We walked around the resort taking pics and we swam in both the ocean and pool.

I can’t believe how warm the ocean is, though it wasn’t like bathwater. The waves and undertow are certainly much fiercer than I remember the beach in Connecticut to be. A 3-foot wave knocked Tom off his feet a couple of times. We were laughing so hard! Even a lady who sat on the beach watching us laughed, too. The fact that they could knock a 250-pound man off his feet oughta prove how forceful they are, and those waves are supposedly nothing for Hawaii.

Once you get about 20 feet from shore you’re not in danger of being knocked over. I wasn’t dumb enough to let myself be swept off my feet, though the undertow almost took me down a few times. Tom, on the other hand, dove right into a big wave. I thought he lost our underwater camera at first, but he had it secured around his wrist. I used to sometimes sit where the waves break in Connecticut, but here they would go crashing over my head and sweep me away. It didn’t smell as salty as Connecticut but it tasted it and stung my eyes a bit.

It’s amazing how loud the waves crash upon the shore, almost like a big bang of thunder. It’s weird how some of the shorelines have no beaches too, but just a rocky area instead. Some people were paddling while standing on surfboards and from a distance, it looked like people were sweeping the ocean.

After a taste of the Pacific Ocean (I wouldn’t dare go in the water in SoCal in the 90s in April cuz it was too cold), it was off to sample their gorgeous pool. It was sort of round and normal looking in some spots, but in other parts, there were narrow canals that went under bridges and was really cool. There were waterfalls and slides in some sections and the water looked so incredibly blue. That was because of the color the pool was painted, but it still looked way cool.

There’s also a pond with huge goldfish in it winding through the area.

Then we returned our pool/beach towels and went back to the room where we lazed around for the rest of the day. It sucks that my new sandals gave me blisters, but you can walk around here barefoot, even though the pool and beach area is a ways away. For most other things you want to wear some type of rubber-soled shoes. We checked the ‘What to Bring’ section of the catamaran tours website. It’s an all-day thing filled with fun, food and drink. It takes an hour and a half to sail each way. We’re leaving for that in a few minutes and won’t be back till around 6pm.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29, 2014 We’re in the midst of day 2 of our trip. We’re both loving it despite the few glitches we’ve encountered. Let me pick up from where I left off.

Using tongs, the flight attendant passed out hot wet washcloths for us to wash up with in the end, and once our plane finally began to descend it was more than obvious. It was almost like freefalling through the air. My ear began popping like crazy again. And then there it was. Hawaii as green as Cali is brown! I was practically squealing with delight!

Next thing I know ribbons of water are flying across the window. When we landed I almost felt like I was going to get tossed out of my seat. Upon arrival, it was rainy and humid, but the humidity didn’t feel stifling or oppressive in any way. In fact, in just one day my skin is amazingly softer.

Two native Pacific islanders held cards with a few people’s last names on them, including ours. They greeted us with leis of beautiful purple orchids and if I didn’t know any better I would think the natives were Mexican or Indian, LOL. Not everyone living here is a native, though. Some look like they could be from just about anywhere.

Then we caught a shuttle to the Hertz rental car company and through the downpour, we were given a green Ford Escape for the week.

I’ve taken tons of pics along the way and will create albums on Facebook and Photobucket once we get home.

Haha, a couple of white doves with matching white toenails are begging for some of Tom’s chips as he sits munching on the patio. We’re on the ground floor and I think this may actually be one of the $800 rooms and not $400. The one we were supposed to get was actually $500 a night unless you book by the week. Then it’s $400.

Anyway, the number of birds and the abundance of colorful flowers and tropical trees are amazing. Tons of coconut palms and banana trees. I want to return to the comfort of home, but I also want to stay here forever. The rain here is a warm pleasant rain, unlike when it rains – or at least used to rain – in the winter in Cali. The grass is so lush and green it almost seems like carpet. I love how the temperature doesn’t change much between day and night. In the winter in Cali, it’s cold at night. In the summer in Cali, it’s hot in the daytime.

“I can’t believe we’re in Hawaii,” I said to Tom once we took off in the Escape.

“Yeah, but we’re lost in Hawaii,” he said.

LOL, that was true. We did get lost for a while. Passed by some breathtaking views, but some surprisingly dumpy houses and buildings for such a fancy, expensive place.

Nonetheless, we picked up a few things at Kmart. We couldn’t find the Walmart, so we went to Kmart. I had this delicious cheesy garlic bread and Tom had a hotdog.

We picked up a couple of pink towels, one darker than the other, that say “Maui” on them. We also grabbed some sunscreen you spray on and some tuberose perfume that smells of gardenias. For souvenirs, I got a pink flip-flop magnet with multicolored gems around it, plus I got about 5 postcards.

So we arrived at the hotel at 3pm, which was check-in time. The room is nicer in person than it appeared to be online, but for this price, you would think we wouldn’t have had to wait an hour to get our toilet plunged as we did. Not a thrilling experience, though there are public restrooms scattered throughout the resort.

I got up at 3am, about a half-hour before Tom did, and found the shower to have wimpy pressure and myself glad I didn’t have long hair. Long hair would be a bitch on this type of vacation. Then I thought the coffeemaker was broken, but I just hit the wrong button was all. Their coffee sucks so I got my own. They have these 1.5-liter bottles of water and like an idiot, I opened one and got us charged 5 bucks for it. I’d have had tap water if I knew they didn’t come free with the room like the coffee and the gross orange tea I wouldn’t touch with a 10-foot pole.

Then we found that we were unable to Skype the rats. We tried calling in a few times, but all that setting up was for nothing, which kind of sucks. I miss my ratties.

The hotel is quiet overall, but in the early mornings and evenings, they love to slam doors and whatnot. I’m worried an elephant walker may’ve checked in above us, too. I heard half a dozen bangs during my 4am shower as it was, but the sound machine and earplug I brought helped me sleep through its bangy moments.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 28, 2014 Aloha! We are now on the plane as I write this in my paper journal! I’m guessing it’s about 8am now. The flight was on time and I will type up everything I write by hand later on. Might be a few days before I get to share it online, though.

Even though the sun is shining, we are flying over a sea of clouds, which is preventing any kind of interesting view.

Yesterday we got things ready for the trip and did a lot of waiting around at home. Tom was able to stop the mail online.

We went to KFC for lunch. The food was good but the service sucked. It was also just as cold in there as it was outside.

I crashed around 4pm. When I awoke at 10pm I was like, fuck! No! But I was eventually able to return to sleep till 1:30. So my schedule worked out perfectly. Not sure about my 10 million doctor appointments waiting for me when we return home, but I don’t have to worry about that till then.

Backed my doc files up on Amazon Cloud so I can access them from Maui. I also have them on the laptop, which is going with us after all.

We loaded the rats up with tons of food and water and set the webcam up, too. We also dropped the heat to 66 degrees and turned the water to the house off.

Once we had everything fully packed, we set out for the airport at 4:50. Parked the car in the economy lot (40G), and was able to catch the shuttle right away.

So we checked in, checked the luggage, went through security, then we were shuttled to Gate 9 where we waited for about an hour. The gate next to us was a flight to L.A. and next to that was one to Tacoma.

No screaming kids on this flight, as we were one of the first to board being first class. First they board handicapped people, then those with infants. The few kids that are flying with us aren’t that young and are way back in coach, of course.

Taking off was both exciting and emotional. As some of you know, we almost didn’t get to take this trip.

At first I was like, OMG! Look how brown everything is down below! At this time it’s still usually pretty green around here, but you can actually see the drought. Miles and miles of dead and barren farmlands with a few scattered houses mixed in.

In no time we flew over a bed of clouds and were only able to catch a quick glimpse of the Pacific. It looked like the water was dead still from up in the plane. No sign of movement at all.

We’re 4 seats away from the front of the plane. Most of the people flying first class seem to be older married couples. Tom thinks I’m the youngest one. Bet I’m the only one who won the trip, too!

Right away we were served drinks; water for both of us and coffee for me.

Then they gave us our toys. Dig-e-Players with music, games, movies, etc. Tom’s watching a movie and I’m playing mahjong when I’m not writing or doing word search puzzles.

Next we were served fruit and a Danish, most of which Tom hated. I ate his fruit, except for the orange, of course. The Danish had slivers of coconut in its center, so Tom only ate around the edges, LOL. I devoured that and the strawberries, grapes, honeydew melon and pineapple.

Lastly, we were served rice and pork stuffed omelets, and of course, Tom could only stand the egg. We both ate our sweet potatoes.

My hand is getting sore since I’m not used to writing by hand. Gotta go pee off my alcoholic drink anyway. Passion Guava, I think it’s called. It doesn’t seem to have much alcohol in it seeing that I don’t even have a buzz.

Later…

I guess it’s about 11:00 Cali time now. Couple more hours to go. My only complaint, besides the fact that my ass is getting sore, is that the seats are too high for my short legs. My toes reach the floor, but I can’t place the flat of my feet on the floor.

I also wish the table was a little closer to my body.

I see nothing but sky, clouds, and a little bit of sea right now.

I hope I can read my own handwriting when I go to digitize these words. When we hit turbulence it’s very hard to write legibly.

Our final alcoholic beverage will be served soon and that will be a Mai Tai. That’s a fruity drink mixed with rum.

Here we go! We’re dropping now so we must be getting closer! Oh, how my good ear pops up a storm.

Wish they had one of those flight navigators that shows the plane’s exact location, but to my surprise, they don’t.

I’m so, so glad, even though it would’ve been great meeting Nane, that we didn’t go to Italy after all. Sitting on a plane for 5 hours and 45 minutes is long enough! I won’t even get into how rough it would’ve been on my schedule. This way we get to fly straight through with no layovers.

Later…

Okay, just under 90 minutes to go now, so no, we probably aren’t dropping yet like I thought.

They served a snack of island trail mix with pineapple, macadamia nuts and honey-roasted sesame sticks.

Also, the second alcoholic drink I had definitely contained more alcohol, haha.

The plane seemed chilly when we first boarded it but now I’m a bit warm. The sun has been on my side all along. My cheeks feel flushed, but that’s probably more from my drink than the warmth.

There are 4 flight attendants; 2 women, 2 men. One of the guys stands at the head of our first-class section whenever the pilots get up to take a leak.

We had to fill out these forms, as mandated by the state of Hawaii, saying we’re not bringing any plants with us.

Later…

It’s now 10:20 local time and she says we’re going to begin our descent any minute now. Good. I’m getting tired of sitting on this plane as fun as it’s been so far. They really need to make planes for short people. I couldn’t even reach the fan overhead.

Again, I’m really glad we didn’t go to Italy as originally planned. I couldn’t even sleep on this thing if I wanted to. The wall of the plane is too far away to lean on and there’s nothing to lean against in the other direction either. The headrests bend inward at the sides to sort of cushion your neck, but when you’re this short it’s more like your cheeks.

Unless something exciting happens before we land, I guess this is it till we’re officially on Hawaiian soil!

MONDAY, JANUARY 27, 2014 We’re now about 25 hours from leaving the house and 27 from taking off! Since I’ll be sitting on a plane for over 5 hours, I want to wait and save most of my writing for then. I will have my rainbow journal with me.

I will say that my dear hubby surprised me with a nice new lightweight purple hairdryer, something I’ve been thinking of getting. I don’t blow dry my hair that often, but it will be nice having a modern dryer with special attachments for straightening, as opposed to his 50-year-old big clunky brown dryer.

Much of the day will be spent in preparation for the trip, though many things can’t be done till right before we go to leave the house. Things like dumping the trash, running a final load of dishes, stocking the rats up on food and water. They will have 3 water bottles and enough food to last them a month.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 26, 2014 Just two more days to go and then I can enjoy what will hopefully be a fun, hassle-free, stress-free vacation without wondering when God’s gonna throw us to the wolves again and into poverty and even possible homelessness. Without wondering if I’m going to need surgery that could set us back a lot more than a bunch of pills could possibly set us back. Without trying to decide if I should make one more attempt to lose weight once my blood tests start coming back with positive results, or if I should just keep the 25 extra pounds. I still might not be able to lose it because I’m still older, after all. If I did, it would take a long time but one definitely has a better chance of getting results from diet and exercise when they’ve fixed thyroids that have completely crapped out on them.

Tom and I are both surprised. We figured it had to be somewhat off. That was obvious by how much I’d diet and exercise and how little weight I’d lose from it. But we didn’t think it’d be this bad. TSH 32.40 is pretty darn extreme.

Anyway, today I’ll do more “combing.” Going through every drawer and closet to make sure I don’t forget to take anything we need or may at least want to have on the trip. The laptop is undergoing serious surgery and will probably go with us after all, but not on the plane. Meaning, not with us in our seats. I’ll write in my paper journal along the way. The laptop will be cushioned between our clothes in the biggest suitcase we’re taking. We’re stripping the laptop and reloading my pics, audio, docs and a word processor. I have to be careful if I go online with it cuz it’s a Windows computer and so it’s more dangerous than a Mac. I know that’s hard for a lot of people to accept and believe. Hey, even I fought going Mac for a while till I got fed up with all the fucking viruses, and even I miss Windows at times. Once you get used to using a Mac you see it really isn’t that much different than Windows. Instead of an X at the right-hand corner of the screen, you close things by clicking a red dot to the left. It’s worth the safety.

So along with my dangerous Windows laptop, I’m combing through closets, drawers, bathroom cabinets, etc. For now, though, this brand-new pill junkie has to go eat now and take her slew of vitamins. Yeah, I hate not being able to have my coffee as soon as I get up. Gotta wait a half hour.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 25, 2014 We just went over our itinerary. We’ll be leaving the house at around 5am and will need to catch a shuttle from the parking lot to the terminal. I thought you just parked and walked inside, but the parking area isn’t near the airport. Not near enough to walk, anyway. At least that won’t cost us anything extra. We checked online to see if we pick out what we want to eat on the plane or if they serve you whatever they feel like serving you, and I guess they’re going to serve a Hawaiian-style breakfast, plus snacks along the 5½–hour flight.

Also, it looks like where we’re going is 2 hours earlier and not 3. We don’t have plans for every single minute of every single day cuz part of the idea is to just have fun at our leisure with no plans or schedules. We won’t be able to check in as soon as we arrive, and it will probably take us an hour to drive through roads that wind through the mountains, so we’ll probably go straight to Walmart where we’ll pick up a couple of beach towels, sunscreen and other odds and ends like that.

Wednesday we probably won’t do anything major other than hanging out at the beach and the pool.

Thursday is when we’ll be sailing on the catamaran and they’ll have all kinds of food, drink and fun stuff to keep us occupied that day. We’ll be on the island we sail to for most of the day.

Friday we’ll probably head inland and check out one of the botanical gardens.

Saturday is the luau that’ll be held in the evening. That’s a traditional Hawaiian feast where they have cultural dances and they roast a pig. I guess wild pigs are all over Hawaii.

Sunday we just relax and Monday we leave.

Sure enough, we’re on for a 40% chance of rain here on the 31st, though we should definitely get to enjoy some rain in Hawaii. Some people Tom works with that have been to Hawaii and say it pretty much rains every day there at this time of year.

No adverse reactions to the meds, but I didn’t expect any. She said the cholesterol pills could cause severe muscle soreness, but there’s only a 1% chance for that. The thyroid pills can make your heart race, and it did race a little, but nothing serious.

I just hope all these appointments don’t really start adding up. It’s a $25 copay every time we see the doctor, and this plan of ours has a high deductible of $1500 per year.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 24, 2014 It really pisses me off when people equate abortion to murder. You can’t “murder” something with zero consciousness. If you can, then mowing the lawn is murder, too. It also pisses me off when people speak of how they’re “working” to take women’s rights to choose away. So the solution is to make all these women have kids they don’t want so they can maybe end up in foster care just like I eventually did just to be abused by others who also don’t want them? Brilliant. Real fucking brilliant.

Just a quick entry 4 hours before my appointment. I just hope to hell she doesn’t spring any nasty surprises on me! We’re going to Hawaii and I want to enjoy our first vacation in 7 years.

Where I had burning and itching downstairs yesterday, today I don’t feel a thing, so I don’t know what to think as far as that goes.

Was surprised to learn Nane’s also taken medication for cholesterol and thyroid issues, but in her case, it’s for fatigue.

I was amazed at how many thyroid symptoms I found I have – dry skin, low sex drive, messed up schedule, etc. I wrote the dry skin and low drive off to age and climate, but again I wonder just how long my thyroid has been fucked up. It probably started going downhill when I was around 40, but since 2009 was the last time I could lose more than just a few pounds, that’s probably when it started really escalating.

Later…

Just to let people know, I plan to be busy these next few days prior to the trip, so if I don’t respond to anyone right away, I’m not ignoring you. Also, even though we’re due back on the 3rd, give me a few days to unwind. I don’t expect to jump back online the instant I return.

Not sure I’ll be online at all during the trip because we’re having issues with the laptop. We’ll have Tom’s phone, but I won’t be able to blog. I’ll be writing by hand and will type up my notes when I get back if we don’t take the thing. Some of my blogs don’t allow backdating so I’ll be sure to include the date in the entries of what happened when.

Yesterday’s appointment was a little scary cuz I didn’t know if she was going to spring any nasty surprises on me that could delay the trip, but nope. We’re still on for Tuesday’s takeoff. My BP was up a bit but that’s probably cuz I was nervous.

I’ve got mixed emotions about the situation. I’m glad to finally know for sure I was right to suspect I had a busted thyroid and that was what was keeping the weight on no matter how hard I worked out and watched what I ate. I’m thankful as hell to this woman for catching the problems I have and for helping me deal with them, even if I may end up having to have surgery. I hope not, but needing the thyroid removed altogether is a possibility. She felt it and said it was a bit enlarged, so I will be having an ultrasound done when we return from the trip. But while I’m glad to have discovered the problem, I hate that I’m back to taking pills every day. The last time, about 15 years ago, was for asthma. Now it’s thyroid, cholesterol, and vitamin D pills, but the last two I shouldn’t be on forever. Still, we even got me a cute little pink pillbox, LOL, so I can take everything I need to Hawaii with me.

Will I lose weight in the future? I don’t know, but those skinny dreams I had sure made me wonder if the “dream people” were trying to warn me of my metabolism. I had like 3 or 4 of them, and any dream psychic knows that reoccurring ones are more likely to mean something.

After the vacation, I will weigh the pros and cons of losing weight. On one hand, if I stay the same, well, this is what I’m used to. It also keeps the perverts away and of course my clothes are set to fit my current size. It would cost money to get a new wardrobe and eventually one of those ring adjusters so I don’t lose my wedding band. It’s this thing you stick inside it to make it tighter.

On the other hand, I become healthier and it becomes easier to get around and to do certain exercises if I’m carrying 25 fewer pounds. It’s still hard work, but losing weight and being fit was something I was actually good at once upon a time, just like I’m good at writing and languages. It can be fun depending on how you see it. The body becomes a work of art and you the sculptor.

Or maybe I’ll lose nothing at all no matter what I decide. I mean look around you. How many slim middle-agers do you see?

Got a message from Paula, who’s still as crazy as ever. Don’t mail her a postcard from Hawaii, she said. Make sure I send it from California cuz that way she’ll know she’ll get it. rolls eyes Oh, and happy birthday since she knows I turned 46 or 47 this month. rolls eyes again It’s nice to know the fucktard is alive and thinking of me, but why I can’t get her to discuss her own health is beyond me.

It figures that it’s going to be 77° here the day after we leave, but it will be even nicer there and hopefully it’ll rain a little too, while we’re there. Too much rain is depressing, especially in the colder months, but I miss rain in general. It’s become such a rarity here. A good 98% of the year here is nothing but dry sunshine.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 23, 2014 Posted a status about what’s going on with me, not just to vent, but more because I was curious as to who would care to respond. Sure enough, my nieces haven’t, though one “liked” that we had a week as of yesterday till our Hawaiian vacation.

Andy had a “shitty” experience. Yeah, it’s both fascinating and creepy. He had a dream that a man disguised as a dog flipped up in the air several times and each time it did it would release shit from its ass.

Then he approves a new member to the Facebook page or group or whatever it is he runs, and the guy asks him, “Can I watch you take a shit?”

Then I send him a funny pic of an animated avatar with human figures flipping over a toilet and dumping shit into it along the way.

Something sure as shit is trying to tell him something.

Got our vacation package and times have changed since 2007, all right. No more paper tickets. We received what looks like a credit card instead for our air, hotel and ground transportation expenses. Too bad it doesn’t cover food, taxes and souvenirs, but hey, 7K is a huge chunk of it paid! And not even the shitster in the sky is going to stop me from going, infected or not.

Tom doesn’t think I’m infected downstairs cuz my white blood cell count is only slightly elevated and I have no fever. Also, every blood test I’ve ever had shows a slightly high count. IDK, I’m really burning down there so we’ll see. I just worry more about all the time and money these problems may add up to, not that I’m going to die or anything like that.

As for the cholesterol – where am I eating all these fatty and saturated fatty foods, I asked him – but then he explained that this is a hereditary thing.

Heart disease, cholesterol problems, diabetes… I may not have diabetes after all and my blood sugar may’ve been good, but why did my parents have kids if they knew they were going to pass on all this shit? Tom said they weren’t aware of these issues back then. Thank goodness we never had kids!

As worthless as placing blame may be (aside from making me feel a little better), I’ve got a few people to blame for that one. The assholes responsible for collapsing the recession so I could go so long without being insured. Myself for knowing I probably wouldn’t have gone for regular checkups anyway. God for letting me not have the insurance that He would’ve let me be dumb enough not to take regular advantage of. Why not use God to vent upon and as a whipping boy? He used me as a whipping boy. Only He let my mother do His dirty work for Him.

I asked Tom what could happen if my non-functioning thyroid which I’ll probably have to take medication for life for went untreated, and from what he read, I could develop a goiter in the future. The goiter would then make swallowing hard as it pressed upon my throat. That tissue may’ve eventually become cancerous, too.

Miss Perfect (my SIL Mary) had it even worse and it was no big deal for her in the end, so I’ll be all right. Just hope it doesn’t cost us much money. And oh, the appointments! I still have to deal with the ear specialist AND the dentist AND the eye doctor… But Mary’s thyroid was so bad they removed it. She even had lesions on her organs. They thought her thyroid was cancerous but once they removed it, they found that it wasn’t. Anyway, you can live without a thyroid, but it is important. Mine’s still bad enough that I can’t believe I’m not still gaining weight, and much faster than I did before. But I at least managed to stop that. Lack of exercise and overeating are to blame for some of the last round of weight gain, but not all of it. I don’t stuff myself like crazy and I only eat when I’m hungry. If I’m not hungry, I don’t eat. Unless you surprise me with a lobster, that is. Most days it takes me two hours to feel hungry after waking up and I don’t eat till then. I just have my coffee.

Mary lost weight after she got her thyroid dealt with and Tom thinks I will be able to, too. Even a fellow writer said the cholesterol thing is probably hereditary and that a medication called Synthroid will probably help me lose weight. Well, it’d certainly be nice to have a choice! Right now it’s not my top priority, but what if I change my mind in a year or so from now? What if I decide I’m sick of looking like shit? Well, I’d like to have the same option that most others have. A schedule and many other things that most people don’t even think twice about haven’t been or are not currently an option for me, so the less control I have over my own life and body, the shittier a feeling it is. If I can and do lose weight, though it will be for ME. Not so people can have a prettier person to look at when I’m out and about.

It’s too soon to say for sure but it’s looking like sleeping with an earplug in my good ear when I’m on nights is helping me sleep. I wake up fewer times and it seems to back the “dream people” off, too.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 22, 2014 Although I won’t have more details until early Friday morning, it turns out I have a whole boatload of problems. They should be manageable and I shouldn’t be going belly-up anytime soon, but I do worry and wonder just how much time and money this shit’s going to take up. I thought I’d have just one problem. Not 4 or 5!

After fighting with the MagicJack, which has once again crapped out on me, and dealing with a semi-shitty connection on the cell, which loves to drop calls, I managed to get someone to help walk me through the steps of retrieving my test results online. Apparently, when Tom set up the account he typed in the wrong 4 SS# digits.

So finally I’m in and I’m looking at the results. I slowly scroll down the page and by the time I reach the end I’m damn near ready to scream. I don’t know that I’m officially diabetic, but let’s see… I have a high white blood cell count, a low level of vitamin D, high cholesterol, and a seriously messed up thyroid. Yeah, no fucking wonder Miss Flat Abs and Muscular Arms turned into such a fat frump, huh?

Anyway, I’m pretty sure the infection, which would raise the white blood cell count, is coming from between the legs. I just don’t know if it’s a gynecological issue or a UT thing. My guess is it’s a bacterial infection that women get all the time. Too much moisture (like from sweaty workouts) and just a little bacteria can infect us even if we keep clean and shower regularly. I will find out at 7am on Friday. Right now I feel like someone’s holding one of my incense sticks to that area. It burns and itches. Many of these problems have probably been festering for months, even years, unbeknownst to me. However, several months back, like before the move, I noticed what felt like “zits” down there and thought the itching kind of went a little beyond the normal feminine discomfort that we all get at times.

For the most part, I didn’t have to be intuitive or psychic in my case as it was mostly common sense based on what’s been going on with me lately. Miss Healthy and Damn Proud of It. I’ve been pretty healthy with a few minor problems along the way ever since I quit smoking 16 years ago. I guess my healthy days are over, though what they can’t cure should at least be manageable. Still, I wasn’t looking forward to having to return to the days of regular appointments and prescriptions even if it’s for other things instead of asthma, allergies, bronchitis and shit like that.

Anyway, I first thought the “itchy zits” were from shaving down there, so I stopped shaving. But on it went and eventually, I resorted to getting medicated wipes that are no longer of much help. Definitely need antibiotics for that. I just worry about the trip. What if we can’t go? I won the trip but that doesn’t mean we haven’t invested hundreds of dollars in taxes and extras. I don’t want to lose the money OR the vacation. Worse, what if he gets laid off?

I’m both surprised and not surprised to find the elevated white blood cell count. I’m surprised because I didn’t have a fever and I have no discharge or funny odor down there. But I’m not surprised. It would explain the negative dreams and dizzy spells and the way things have felt a little off down there.

The biggest surprise was the cholesterol. Okay, so many older people get it. But I eat healthy most days! What we eat isn’t all that influences it, though, from what we read. It’s connected to thyroid issues. It’s amazing how many things are connected to that actually. Andy’s had issues with cholesterol and a lack of vitamin D.

My own lack of D is probably due to a lack of sunlight. I only go out when running or doing errands. Otherwise, I have no reason to go out and have never been a very outdoorsy person to begin with. Let me guess… some of you are “sad” for me, huh? Well, I’m happier in a bug-free, climate-controlled place, so cry on if you must. I once heard a glass of milk a day can replace the sunlight, but dairy products play on my stomach.

The most serious issue, but the least surprising was that I was right; I do have thyroid issues. According to our research, the numbers are high and potentially fatal if left untreated for years. It can cause all kinds of other complications. I’m hoping mine’s in the early stages so that if I can never lose another pound again I can at least not gain any more.

I kept telling myself to quit being obsessed with my weight – I didn’t give a shit how I looked anyway – but it wasn’t that easy cuz I knew deep down that something wasn’t kosher. I also knew that if I got any bigger I’d struggle just to tie my shoes. How frustrating it has been to watch people jog or walk by the place, trim and thin, and know that I’m busting my ass just as hard as they are just to stay the same damn weight, give or take a few pounds. I just knew no one would run a couple of miles every other day, eat sensibly, and NOT lose weight. I tried to tell myself it was just age, bad genes, simply how I was, but I wasn’t kidding myself.

I’m too wound up to focus right now, but I’ll just say that while things could be worse – damn the fucking bastard above to hell and back if there is one. I KNEW something like this would happen once we got settled. I knew it. I also told others and mentioned in my journal that I was afraid something like this would happen. I am, however, very grateful to Tom, Tammy, Andy and Nane for being there for me.

I asked Alison if all’s been quiet in Trollsville and she said yes. Really? Doesn’t she know Molly tweeted to her as if all is just fine and they’re still good buddies? Wanted to know how her weather was or something like that. Maybe she just doesn’t want to acknowledge her in public. Our tweets aren’t protected now. So if she found her newest name there, she’s probably found mine, too. The types of tweets, pics and other account info would pretty much give me away to a stalker no matter what name I went under.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 21, 2014 Sometimes the apple falls far from the tree, other times it falls very close to it. In my nieces’ case, it seems to be rather close. I see Tammy’s vengefulness shining through her daughters. Sarah said just when she was thinking of ways to seek revenge on her noisy neighbors, they surprise her by doing something nice, thus making her feel obligated to be nice back.

I wonder, though… am I the only one who would prefer to ignore those I dislike (though I understand noisy neighbors don’t always let us ignore them), or is it totally “normal” to seek revenge, maybe even become obsessed with, those who get on our bad side or dump us? Is getting even, stalking, pestering and harassing those that piss us off just “the thing to do?”

Well, I can’t stand Arabs and I can’t stand blacks with the shit they pull day in and day out on so many people. But forgive me if I’m too “abnormal” to want to spend my time actively making their lives miserable instead of just ignoring them unless any of them try to harm me or my husband and I’m forced to react in any way.

Later…

These doctors are really starting to piss me off what with the way they’re already going a little quacko on me. Even Tom is frustrated. He gave them permission to leave us detailed info, but what do they do? They go and leave a message at 3:30 asking if I could call in. No, I can’t call in when I’m sleeping, you dipshits! I can only multitask when I’m awake!

As some people pointed out to me, while they have laws and policies about how they go about communicating with patients, it does seem rather asinine that they can’t provide more info in messages. One friend had to drive an hour in traffic just to be told her cultures were negative. Now why couldn’t a simple “You’re fine” have been delivered by phone?

Whether it’s diabetes, an infection, a wacky thyroid, they could at least give me some hint instead of leaving me wondering. I don’t know that I’ll be up late enough to call them, but as Tom agrees, they work for us. Not the other way around. So, since it’s not a dire emergency seeing that they waited till 3:30 to call, I’ll call them when I can. I just don’t know that I have the time to deal with whatever shit I may have to deal with till after the trip. Or want to. Not unless it was life-threatening and obviously it’s not.

Whatever it is it’s probably easy enough to manage, though I’ve already resigned myself, like I said before, to the fact that the weight is never coming off. That’s fine, though. As long as I feel good and can function in life, appearance isn’t important to me. If anything, looking like shit keeps the pervies away, even if I always look a little better in person than in pictures. I think most of us do.

As that friend suggested, I’m not going to let it ruin my vacation. Tom is going to love having 12 whole days off (and still weeks of additional vacation time if he needed or wanted it), and while I may like routine, change is also nice. As some people forget, I work too, so we’re BOTH looking forward to this break.

Really miss the days, though, when it was simple to call a doctor. You may have gotten the doctor’s secretary, but that secretary would always patch you right through to the doctor. Now, if you get a live human being, you’re sent through a network of incompetent idiots that don’t know shit. Wish we had Cigna. They were the best. Everything was in one spot and set up so much simpler. 3 things went to hell starting in the 90s. The world of doctors and trying to get through to them, blacks and children. Blacks have always been trouble, but in the ’90s was when we started letting them get away with it and showering them with extra rights and privileges. Kids have always been kids too, but the 90s was when most parents threw discipline, respect, consideration, and manners right out the window.

No upset belly yesterday to have to wait out since prayer is useless to me. I wonder if prayer is like languages – some people have a knack for them, some don’t.

MONDAY, JANUARY 20, 2014 I’m on nights right now and as soon as I got up at 4:30, Tom was asking me about my dreams.

First, though, I would’ve fallen asleep earlier had I not gotten sick. I thought I was going to puke for a minute there. First my throat started burning, then I felt nauseous. Every now and then I like to reinforce my belief that yes, prayer is a joke if only for me, and no, it’s not my imagination - something up there really does NOT listen to Jodi S. And when it appears to listen to others it’s probably a coincidence seeing that none of us have it all, after all. Wishful thinking or not, I prayed anyway for it to stop so I could fall asleep.

Nothing.

I like to fall asleep on my stomach but that made me feel worse so I lay on my side. I even felt unusually cold, even under a heavy blanket and with a memory foam topper.

Anyway, as soon as I got up Tom was on me about my dreams. I actually slept better than usual and didn’t recall any dreams, though I wondered if the “dream people” puking on my feet the day before had to do with my feeling like I was going to puke.

“Nothing scary or anything like that?” he asks.

I shook my head and right away I knew something was up. The only thing they “told” me was that Nane’s pinky and ring fingernails grow faster than her index and middle fingers and she confirmed this to be in fact true, and that was the other day. Hey, they tell me everything from trivial things to life-threatening situations like what we were in a few years ago.

Next he tells me they found something bad with my blood tests. They wanted to see me today but Tom didn’t get the message till 4:30. They’re not allowed to get into it over the phone, so we don’t know what it could be about, but we have our theories. This is just what we fucking need now when we’re a week away from going to Hawaii! Again I wonder – and worry – just how much of these appointments could end up costing us a ton of time and money and maybe even delay the home improvements indefinitely.

Tom had a class the managers have at work. They called at 10:30, but he was too busy to pick up the message till later. He called them back, of course. The doctor is already aware of my sleep issues and all that, but since it was already so late in the day anyway, they said the next time they could see me was on the 3rd. But that’s the day we’re due back from Hawaii. Two more weeks won’t kill me and if it is what we think it is, I’ll just watch what I eat. Tom gave them permission to leave detailed messages, so hopefully they’ll give us a hint and either confirm or shoot down our suspicions. Still, it kind of has a way of taking the excitement out of finally being insured, you know?

We both agree it can’t be life-threatening or else they’d have been insisting I get into a specialist immediately. I also didn’t have any nightmares. Then again, and as I pointed out to Tom, neither did I before my Dad died. I was totally surprised and caught off guard, bad heart or not.

“That’s different,” he told me. “Anytime something bad has happened to us directly you’ve had nightmares.”

So since I haven’t gone falling from 20-foot shower stalls, been pitched overboard from speedboats, or caught on the top floor of a building where a riot has broken out, it should, at worst, be nothing more than a big old pain in the ass.

The first possibility we ruled out was hepatitis and AIDS. I don’t do drugs and I’ve never had sex with anyone other than Tom since we met. Unless we’ve reached a point where just looking at hotties and having crushes on them can cause these things (which would be Nane’s fault, LOL), this isn’t possible.

Wacky cholesterol seems unlike but a high white blood cell count could be in which case I may have a minor infection somewhere. But where? My teeth? Unlikely. I’m not in enough pain. Between the legs? Unlikely. I think that IF anything funny is going on down there it would most likely be warts caused by excessive moisture one can get from working out. I’ll find that out in April, but I think all will be fine down there.

So what is our guess? Diabetes. I have too many symptoms and it is hereditary, like it or not. I used to think only fat people got it, but you can actually be skinny and get it, too. Obese people, on the other hand, are more at risk of getting it. I’m fat but not obese. Not yet anyway. I read that type 1 can’t be prevented, but being active and at an ideal weight may prevent type 2. An active lifestyle is no problem, but an ideal weight is impossible. Another scarily familiar thing I read was “trouble seeing (especially at night), light sensitivity, blindness in the future.”

Wonder if the OH the eye doc caught last year is connected?

Of course the one symptom I don’t have is the best one, weight loss. I knew that PMS and pregnancy could cause hunger, but didn’t realize diabetes could, too. I knew of the other symptoms, though. Tired of worrying and obsessing over my weight I resigned myself to the fact that I would never lose weight since I can’t stand the hunger and fatigue that goes with dieting, and figured I’d always be at least 25 pounds overweight. I’m naturally hungry and with occasional bouts of fatigue, so that’s part of why I haven’t lost the weight. I don’t doubt that Nutrisystem works, but that’s only if you can actually STICK to it. I don’t see how I ever could, though, so I learned to look at the pros of being big and accepted that this would be how I would live the rest of my years.

Another thing I’ve experienced for a few years now is these mysterious head rushes. Sometimes I get them after eating sugar, other times they just seem to come on for no apparent reason, but feelings of lightheadedness would be consistent would diabetes. Also, Tom got a home testing kit for that and cholesterol and my sugar level numbers did once seem a bit high. But then we tested me again and I seemed fine.

Worst-case scenario I will have to watch what I eat. Most days I don’t have junk food, but sugar is found in more things than we realize. Even watermelon has tons of natural sugars in it. So a tweak of my menu is probably in order for me, but don’t ever expect me to get down to the 120s.

Later…

I realized that the symptoms of what we suspect may be diabetes, until I can get back to the doctor, have probably been festering for years. Like back when I was thin, though again, weight doesn’t seem to impact it so much as genes, unless you’re extremely heavy. Seems like it was 5 or more years ago when I noticed I seem to be thirsty a lot and a peeaholic. Then the dizzy spells started. I won’t even get into the hunger and how I have some days where nothing seems to fill me up, or when it does, it’s not for long and I end up having to stuff myself silly for half the day just to feel satiated for more than 5 minutes.

This is exactly what I feared would happen too; that God would “punish” me for finally getting what I wanted in life, a home of our own. I didn’t worry about it all the time on a conscious level, but it was a concern that was always at least in the back of my mind. While so many others can get something for nothing, I seem to have to pay dearly, even if it’s something I deserve. And hey, when He can’t beat us over the head with money, why not go after my health, right? I still don’t think it’ll amount to much more than a hassle and an inconvenience. Diabetes isn’t usually serious unless you’re dumb enough to scarf down tons of candy bars when you have type 2. Then you could be risking heart disease and strokes and shit like that.

I’m just trying not to think of the many, many appointments for various doctors that await me as I get caught up on things, or how the costs could really add up. Totally, totally something God would let happen, too.

Later…

I was thinking about how simple this trip should be compared to when I won the Caribbean cruise in 2007. Here we will just drive ourselves to the airport, hop on the plane in Sacramento, go straight through to our destination, then do the same coming home.

The cruise trip, though, was hectic as hell. We walked the 10-minute walk to the train station in Klamath Falls, OR, trained up to Portland, spent a night in a hotel, flew out of Portland the next day to the hub in Atlanta, Georgia, flew to Fort Lauderdale, FL, stayed overnight in a hotel, took a taxi the next day to the ship, then repeated the process coming home.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 19, 2014 “Why are you shoplifting now?” Tom asked me earlier. I looked at him with utter confusion. “Are you now sneaking things out of stores when we go shopping?” he asks.

Thinking he was saying that something somehow accidentally got added to our stuff or not rung up at Sam’s Club, he then holds up a pair of men’s dress pants still with its tags on.

I burst out laughing and said, “I remember when you went to Ross to get those.”

He was completely stumped as to how they appeared in his closet all of a sudden. Remember, his wife is the one who does the packing and unpacking whenever we move or travel. “You got those for job interviews when we first came to Cali,” I told him.

But back in those days, even an older white man could get a job in a couple of weeks tops and none of his interviews required anything that dressy. Especially with so many applications AND interviews being conducted online like what was starting to be a regular thing by then.

Still not sure if we’re going to go with flooring or carpeting or what but we’ll decide when we return from our vacation. We’re not interested in upping the value of the place, but the comfort of our home instead, and making it what we want it to be whether it ups the value or not. I’m leaning back towards carpet. It may be harder to clean, but it feels and looks nicer and the rats love it. It’s easier for them to grip their feet on it when running around.

The place I’d like to live our final few years in doesn’t exist and that would be at the top of a SOUNDPROOF highrise. That way I’d be away from the street/landscaping sounds and we would have no yard/property to maintain.

Little by little, we are making preparations for our trip and my schedule is now officially aimed for Hawaii. Luckily I haven’t had any nightmares, a bad thing for those of us whose bogeymen like to step out of our nightmares and into our reality, but oh my fucking goodness! The constant waking up with weird/negative dreams or just for the hell of it sure does get old! No wonder I’m so sleep-needy. Gotta sleep a little longer to make up for all that waking up. I must wake up 4-6 times during the night (or day). I usually go right back to sleep, but sleeping straight through is a long-ago memory for me at this point. Well, they don’t want to send me to a sleep clinic just for the fun of it, so we’ll see what they say, though I still can’t imagine learning anything new from them than what I’ve already been told.

I just hope to hell I get through the next 9 days without certain types of nightmares, which could only mean trouble ahead. Just like I knew the nightmare I had in Oregon before the cruise meant we were in for rough sailing, (pardon the pun). Plus we also got to return to frozen pipes. Fun. I don’t think anything will go seriously wrong, though, and if there are any serious annoyances at least it will be for a week and not for months or even years.

Tom trimmed some trees along the property line when they pulled in next door. Virginia said hi, but went straight into the house while Tom and Bob chatted a few minutes. Bob told him he could come down on their side to make trimming easier so he wouldn’t have to bend over since some of the leaves extended up and over to their side. That was nice of him and certainly made it easier since next door’s about 3’ lower than us. There’s a retaining wall dividing the properties.

The people here sure are much nicer and more considerate than any other place I’ve ever lived in, but hey, it’s a retirement community where people are older and they own their places. People help people here and no one disappears for a week without people getting concerned. That’s why we’ve let next door know and we’ll alert the office too, when we go to pay the rent, which will be a few days earlier than it’s due since we won’t be here on the first.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 18, 2014 10 more days till Hawaii! It’s so hard to believe, even though I’ve been all over the country and even to other countries.

We’re making all kinds of preparations. Setting up the cameras that are going to watch this house like a hawk right along with the park security. I didn’t realize this till today when I noticed this when we were returning from Sam’s Club, but the gated entrance videos its incoming traffic. Most of the parks definitely don’t have that added luxury, I’m sure.

I just can’t believe it, though! We didn’t think we’d live to escape that bummy old trailer much less to go sailing, swimming, shopping and sunning in Hawaii. With my shit luck, I’ll burn to a crisp, but that’s okay. Then my body can match my face for once, which is always red with what I think is rosacea.

This facts site I follow says the more intelligent you are, the more you dream. rolls eyes Gee, I must be a fucking genius then! The “dream people” weren’t very nice to me at all. I woke up a million times after they puked all over my shoes, blew me away in a severe storm, and then Nane spoke incorrect German to me when she took me to an outdoor restaurant in Germany. I’m sure she’ll love that one, too. We sat down to eat when I spaced out all of a sudden to gaze at all the sights and sounds around me. After a minute she told me to “Essen der Essen,” which should’ve been “Essen das Essen.”

At Sam’s, we got some groceries and I got the same light blue colored memory foam bath mat for the master bath that I’d gotten for the other bath. I wanted plum, but they were out, and I prefer light blue to apple, tan and ivory. The pink bath mats I had in there were fine, but the Robo vac can’t vacuum those as well as the memory foam one. The memory foam is stiffer so its corners don’t fold over when the Robo rolls onto it.

I moved one of the pink bath mats by the bed and the other will just be stored away for now. Then I gave Tom the large piece of tan carpet that was by the front door when we moved in for him to use in the workshop. I only got one memory foam mat for the bathroom figuring I could just drag it over when I use the tub, which isn’t very often. That reminds me, I should run water for a few seconds to keep the water in the trap from evaporating.

We’re considering doing what Andy did only in different rooms and only if it’s going to be significantly cheaper than carpet. The original plan was to carpet all the rooms except for the kitchen, baths and laundry room. Now, though, we’re thinking of flooring the bedrooms with a laminate like what Andy has that looks like hardwood floors. As Andy himself said, carpet is harder to clean than floors. My office chair sure would roll around easier and it would be easier to move furniture, too. I would, however, get a large area rug for the living room. I do still like to play on the floor with the rats, then there are my workouts, though I do have a mat for when I’m working my abs. It’s definitely something worth looking into. Carpet may feel nicer to walk on and flooring the place may seriously lower the value of our home, but carpet definitely isn’t necessary and it definitely is harder to clean. If it’s more than $500 cheaper than carpet, I’m interested.

My little office is set up in the corner of the living room and when I turn around and look at the living room and dining area and think that that was once all the space we had to live in for half a decade, I’m like, OMFG.

I also got a pack of 3 soft fuzzy socks. They almost keep my feet too warm, but I like them a lot.

Other than an occasional “like” on something I post, my nieces don’t seem eager to interact with me. I guess that may be a good thing, though, since they often seem to be in a bad mood. I see a lot of Tammy in them, unfortunately.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 17, 2014 Had a nice invigorating yet relaxing twilight run. That’s my true obsession (besides writing and languages). More so than what food I eat and what the numbers are on the scale. I can’t imagine not running at least every other day. I’m getting faster. What once took me 35 minutes now takes 25. Passed Hazel along the way, not surprisingly, sweeping away at nothing. Well, it looked like she may’ve had a little pile of dirt going. She was her usual friendly and chipper self, but not very talkative, so I didn’t push her. I hate to push people to chat cuz I hate it when they push me to chat when all I want to do is sit in silence, lost in my own thoughts or whatever it is I may be doing at the moment.

If most people believe something to be true, does that really make it true? Interesting question someone asked me. I suppose it could. But not necessarily. Most people believe gays are evil sinners, but does that make it true? I think sometimes we simply get brainwashed by society. Then again, just because most people may not believe in something doesn’t mean it’s not true either.

Seeing the majority of people believing in what I believe to be pure bullshit isn’t nearly as annoying as the dual standards society still holds for women and men. 50 years ago I would have been criticized for not having kids. Today I’m criticized for not having a job outside of the house. In 50 years it will be something else. But when is a MAN ever criticized for having kids and told, “You shouldn’t have done that. You should be focusing solely on your career.” Really, why can’t we laugh at a MAN who says he wants to marry and have a family and tell HIM he’s an old-fashioned prude? We criticize men for breaking the law and things like that but never for their lifestyle. Only women have a set of do’s and don’t’s hanging over their heads.

Later…

They recommend we get to the airport two hours before our flight is scheduled to take off, and I’m like, two hours?! Gee, why don’t we just go there now?

Tom read that some backaches aren’t due to something being wrong, but faulty signals instead. Something about the way the signal gets transferred to the brain or something like that. I still sometimes have lower back pain, but it’s been better lately.

I really feel for my nieces right now. They have 5 more months in the apartment they’re renting together and apparently the neighbors fight all night, the lazy landlord doesn’t fix shit, and like most places today what with all the cars people have, there aren’t enough parking spots and Sarah doesn’t always get one. So Becky’s way of preserving her one is to park on a line in the parking lot so she can get one that way, LOL.

Still, I really feel for them. I know how noisy apartments are and how much likely renters are to be rude and inconsiderate compared to owners. Maybe they can save to buy a house, though I don’t know if they could afford to or would even want to have to pay for anything that breaks.

It’s too bad everyone can’t live in a place like this (never thought I’d live to say that), but I realize that some people like the action of the mainstream and the city and that they want to hear their neighbors cuz then they can have fun eavesdropping and spying on them in a way that is socially acceptable.

Speaking of this place, I forgot to mention earlier that I saw a couple of fire trucks at someone’s house while out running. No smoke, pig cars or ambulances, though. Wonder if someone was having a heart attack. Or feeling like they were.

The turkeys held up traffic for a minute along the way, LOL. They seem to be getting to know me along with some of the people cuz they’re not as quick to hurry away. I can get within just a few feet of them and can hear their toenails tapping the road as they walk.

Been thinking of how Tammy and I talked about meeting up in Florida someday after Tom retires, but that’s still way too far into the future to know for sure. We may leave the country or we may just stay here. I doubt we’d live wherever they end up living if we did go because I don’t expect to ever have as much money as them. We’ll probably go for something like this place that is set up like co-op living where the cost of your actual place is lower but you pay a monthly fee for maintenance and amenities. Manufactured homes used to be cheaper than on-site houses, but once they started building them better and better and more like houses, they often cost about the same.

Had to switch to a different keyboard the other day as mine kept going out. I had to replug its cable every time I wanted to use it after not using it for a while. Then we downloaded a driver so this keyboard’s features can be used on a Mac. I like this keyboard better. It’s now been almost 6 years since I won us these Macs and we’ve never had a single virus yet.

My German hottie wished me a nice weekend. Aw, how sweet. :)

THURSDAY, JANUARY 16, 2014 Got up at 1:30. Been a little tired ever since, but not too bad. A half-hour later Tom got home from work, then about 15 minutes later we headed out for the lab. Turns out I only needed blood drawn. I didn’t need to pee in a cup. I slipped back into the 140s but that’s only cuz this test required 12 hours of fasting beforehand and I’d last eaten at around 2am.

I’m just worried that all these specialists and procedures not fully covered by our insurance are going to really add up and really delay the hell out of the home improvements.

My brother would’ve turned 60 yesterday if he hadn’t died in 2012 of liver cancer, and today’s the day my nephew died at age 16 in a trucking accident in 1997. First Sandy lost a child at 8 months pregnant, then her teenage son. God has been totally cruel and compassionless where her kids are concerned, but at least Jen seems to have made it through life unscathed so far.

After having 4 vials of blood drawn for the millions of tests they’re conducting, we went to Carl’s Jr. for a burger and fries. Then we browsed through another Goodwill store. I love checking them out every few weeks or so. You never know what awesome treasures you might find at awesome prices.

They had an awesome little black doll but with a hideously looking cartoonish face, so I didn’t get it. Another doll was just the opposite with a pleasant face, and hot pink hair, but a body that wasn’t very detailed or realistic so I didn’t get that one either. I know I shouldn’t accumulate more junk to have to dust, but what I did end up getting, for just a few bucks each, was a really nice fairy figurine. It’s kind of big and heavy and the kind you can put outdoors if you want. She’s got a dusting of fine gold glitter on her wings and sculpted dress and is sitting on the counter for now.

I also got one of those “breathable” Perfect Petzzz that normally goes for $40. This one is a cocker spaniel and it’s nicer than my golden retriever puppy. My golden pup has an on/off switch, but this one simply breathes till the battery dies. Don’t have a D battery right now, though.

Got Twinkle, my 22” doll, a new outfit also, since Hillary stole hers. She’s in a pale pink velvety top with a pink floral skirt. The waistband is a bit loose, but she’s posed lying on her tummy while propped on her elbows, so it doesn’t matter.

Since they started making nail polish with skinny brushes for doing designs it’s never been easier to do doll nails. I could even do the fairies. In the past, I would have to dab a toothpick in the polish and use that.

I know this is pure fantasy but it would be so nice to get a 3D printer, design and print 3D images, paint them, then sell them in my own little store. But I have a feeling this is something God would stop me from doing or at least from making any steady money at. Again, if He wanted me earning an income of my own He wouldn’t have cursed me with this type of sleep disorder. I’m sure the day I die will be the day you can get jobs online that pay at least minimum wage, though I would think most people would still want to work out of the house where they can be around other people. At this point, I wouldn’t care who was around so long as it was something I could do on my own schedule.

The rats are out playing now in their boxes. Again, they’d be absolutely heartbroken if they didn’t have those things to play in, haha. It’s their little play station or playground or whatever you want to call it. Let’s see these smarty rats knock my trash bin over now, though. I propped it up on a heavy jar.

While I have been enjoying a wonderfully trolless (I could get very used to this, too) poor Andy picked up a troll on Facebook. He’s the administrator of some pages there and I guess that when he had to ban someone they didn’t take it very well.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 15, 2014 We rebooted my computer while holding down the ‘alt’ key. It’s supposed to fix errors that accumulate on the drive and make things run faster. It seems to have helped a lot. Then I backed up on the Time Machine.

A few nights ago I had a dream Tom was going for a job interview somewhere but was still working his regular job. His bosses knew about the interview and didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

In my last dream, someone tried to rape me in a field, and as I told Andy, the good thing about being so fat and ugly is knowing this is so unlikely to happen for real. “You’re too obsessed with your weight,” he told me. Yeah, we all have our “rational” and silly fears and one of mine (besides Tom and I growing old with no one to help us) is getting so fat no matter what I eat and how much I exercise that I get so damn big I can barely wipe my own ass.

After the results of the lab testing come back I will then make a decision as far as what to do about my weight. I may not have much choice if this is truly how I naturally am meant to be. Just like we can’t always be taller just because we may want to be, well, we can’t always be thinner. If we could then so many of us wouldn’t be so big. Right now I only know I am NOT dieting before or during Hawaii.

I guess lipid profiling has to do with cholesterol, according to Andy. We may go to the lab tomorrow afternoon cuz the tests require 9 hours of fasting beforehand. I’ll be getting up around the time he gets in from work, so that would be a good time. Then we’ll go out to eat afterward. No guarantees, though. If something comes up then it will have to wait. Again, I don’t want to think about my health or weight till after the trip. I’m still pretty sure nothing’s wrong with me anyway. That would be my guess unless I am ever told otherwise.

We got our flight info and are going to be in the back row of 1st class on both flights – yes! No unruly kids to possibly be kicking the back of our chairs while its equally rude mother just sits there and allows it to do so.

The huge loud dog just outside the outskirts of the park makes me glad for once that my neighbors are always home, even if they aren’t exactly our immediate neighbors. On the rare occasion that its owners take off, the fucker is so damn loud that late at night you can hear it in certain parts of the house. It’s barely audible compared to how Jesse’s dogs used to be, but there’s no doubt what it is.

Got up just before 2pm today and heard the usual landscaping and traffic sounds till after 4:00. I stopped and briefly chatted with Hazel along the way when I was out running. Sweet but not all there Hazel, sweeping away on the common area that’s the park’s responsibility and virtually devoid of leaves because the park keeps up on it often enough. I should know. I hear them when I’m up and about.

rubs achy knees Sometimes I wonder if running is as overrated as racism.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 14, 2014 The appointment with Dr. C went well. There was very little waiting time and the doctor was very nice. Blond, tall, and kind of dressed like a nun without the habit; black shoes, black hose, black baggy dress.

A male nurse took some basic info from me first, then the doctor and I discussed things. Tom was with me so I didn’t have to repeat everything to him afterward and he could add anything of importance I may forget. Really, my memory is NOT like it used to be and I can’t think as fast as I used to either. I wonder if that’s normal for 48, but anyway, all my vitals are fine and unless I flunk my upcoming tests and exams, I highly doubt anything is wrong with me. Nothing serious anyway.

I’m a little overwhelmed by the fact that I will undoubtedly have more appointments this year alone than in the last 15 years. I have not seen a primary care physician since the late 90s. Other than the dentist and a few specialists, I spent nearly a decade without insurance. So there is a lot to catch up on. It’s just that the last time I did this it was a little easier because I had good vision, I wasn’t fat, and I wasn’t deafer than deaf. When out in public where there are many sounds coming at me at once everything seems to blend into one big senseless noise.

She looked down my throat, in my eyes and ears, listened to my heart and lungs, which are crystal clear, felt the glands in my neck, felt my tummy and gave me a tetanus shot. Not sure what that was for, though, since it’s not like I stepped on a rusty nail or anything. I already feel like I’ve been punched in the arm, too. I’m looking at the paperwork on what they’ve done and are going to do and it actually says “tetanus and diphtheria vaccine,” whatever the hell that means. Medical stuff interests me about as much as it would to have to listen to someone talk about God while I watched a football game.

LOL, for the status of this and that she’s got “overdue, overdue, overdue.” You got that right!

We discussed my allergies and how I had asthma that has since gone dormant since quitting smoking. We discussed my ear, sleep issues and tardive dyskinesia, a condition caused by the quacks that gave me happy pills in my late teens to early 20s that kindly neglected to warn me of this permanent condition which causes sporadic twitching in the face and neck muscles. I wouldn’t have brought the TD up, but a doctor (another quack?) once told me it was important to do so.

It was nice to be able, for the first time in my life, to bring up my sleep issues now that it’s been a real and documented condition since 1999, without hearing that I’m a lazy excuse queen who doesn’t really want to work because she hates people and that if I just set my alarm every day, I will finally break this “nasty habit” I so stupidly and selfishly got myself into by “using” my husband to support me.

I also told her I hadn’t pursued treatment as everything we were told and read suggests there’s not much that can be done about it, and I can’t get my disability benefits reinstated anyway because I didn’t work enough years, as fucked as that sounds. I mean, that’s WHY I didn’t work enough years, duh, but the wording is everything and all that was listed on my initial round of benefits was stress and anxiety and PTSD, but this was back in the 80s. As far as everyone was concerned back then, non-24-hour sleep cycle didn’t exist.

She wants me to see a specialist anyway. I guess they treat it with light and melatonin but don’t know the details right now. Something about a special kind of light that “tricks” you into thinking it’s daylight when it’s not. I don’t know how effective this is, though, or if it means they can now cure me so I can go get a job cleaning rooms at a hotel. That’d be the first thing I’d look for anyway. It’s straightforward work that you mostly do by yourself. Shouldn’t be too hard to get even though I’m older, white, a native US citizen and female, right?

Sometime up in Oregon I first noticed I had an ingrown toenail. It’s in my big left toe. It’s been an annoyance ever since, but again, we were uninsured or broke or sometimes both, so it hasn’t been dealt with yet. She’s going to perform a little surgery by numbing the toe and cutting that part of the nail out. It could grow back the same way or it could not grow back at all. Don’t know yet, but she agrees it was probably caused by a fungus. I am NOT looking forward to having needles stuck in my toe, but… no pain, no gain.

The dates of all my upcoming appointments aren’t yet etched in stone, but I will have blood and urine work done to test my thyroid and metabolism as well as hormone levels, diabetes, hepatitis and the usual things they do routine testing for. There are other things listed for testing but I don’t know what they mean. Vitamin D 25 hydroxy? Lipid profile?

Let’s see… I’ve gone this far even though I shouldn’t have and it really makes me uncomfortable to discuss anything medical, but for whatever it’s worth…

BP: 118/80

Pulse: 76 (that’s low for me)

Respirations: 20

Temperature: 97.6 (brrr)

Weight: 151

Height: 4’ 10.75” (WTF? And people call this “fun” size? Tell that to me when I’m trying to reach something from the top shelf!)

What worries me is how much the surgery, ear and sleep specialists may cost thus slowing down the home improvements. I want new carpet! And I want it THIS year!

We were surprised she was going to be doing both the toe surgery and the female exam. We thought she’d send us to specialists for that, too. She admits she’s not comfortable dealing with my ear, though. Congenital atresia is for the specialists only. Still…appointments, appointments, appointments! Yes, it’s nice to get this shit out of the way, but it’s still no fun, ya know? I still have to deal with the eye doctor and dentist, too.

Really, really didn’t want to have to get a female exam. Yeah, I know it’s risky not having them, but still… what are the odds of anything serious erupting down there? That may be more uncomfortable than my toe. I haven’t had sex in ages!

I didn’t know cervical cancer crept on you so fast. I knew early detection of breast cancer was important, but I thought there’d be some kind of pain or warning with cervical cancer. Shit, they’ll probably want me to have a mamo, too.

MONDAY, JANUARY 13, 2014 A radio producer in NYC (no joke) wants to do a radio interview with me about a writing project I worked on for them, but they never once mentioned money. If you’re not a friend I’m helping out, well, money talks or else Miss Rainbow walks.

“I feel like I’m gaining weight like a mother fucker,” I said to Tom after returning home sweaty and panting, “but it was a damn good run anyway.”

“Mother fuckers must be really talented,” said Tom. “After all, you say you’re as tired as a mother fucker, bloated as a mother fucker, pissed as a mother fucker, happy as a mother fucker, hungry as a mother fucker, writing like a mother fucker, learning languages like a mother fucker… mother fuckers must be pretty amazing.”

After I burst out laughing it was his turn to let out a burst of laughter once he took a look at our Macs. I told him that after reading the book I was reading I’d taken the precautionary measures of taping our webcams in case they ever got hacked. He said, “You can’t use scotch tape, sweetie. It’s clear.”

So he took it upon himself to cover them with orange duct tape. :)

Finally got fed up enough to kick Sarah off my feed. I’m sick of her posting the same old shit, particularly about her asshole father and God.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 12, 2014 No rain today but the wind chimes are going off all around the house. It’s nice to hear, especially since it’s usually so calm out there.

Tom and I were chatting and we got on the subject of laws and porn after I was telling him about some crime documentaries I saw on YouTube and the rather interesting book I’m reading.

“I still don’t understand,” I said to Tom, “how one guy can get a fine and probation for beating the shit out of someone while another can go to prison for 4 years just for threatening someone. Doesn’t that seem totally backward? Anyone can make threats, but aren’t words just words unless you actually DO something?”

But then he pointed out that Charles Manson supposedly never killed anyone but he’s in jail for life. Would I want him released simply because all he’s done is make threats and encourage others to kill? NO!!! Absolutely not!

I guess it depends on the nature of the threats, the situation, the circumstances, and the people involved. Having someone say they’d like to strangle you for beating them at a game of chess is a far cry from being told you’re going to die by someone who’s got a rap sheet for assault.

I also still think it’s unfair as hell to give leniency to non-whites just as it was unfair when it used to be the other way around, and I don’t care how politically correct it may be to favor the previously oppressed. Make up the past by being fairer to them, not by favoring them, I say, because two wrongs never make a right.

As I told Tom, I’d rather not be attacked at all, of course, but if someone ever tried to hurt or kill me, I hope they’re white so they can’t play the race card, which we know would automatically work in their favor when they tried to say I tried to attack them for their color. I’d rather be attacked by a white person that got away with it, than by a black person that I went to jail for on assault charges that were really a case of self-defense.

The book I’m reading is called Malicious and is fast-paced and full of suspense. The “Slave Master” hacks webcams and spies on women that he sometimes blackmails, including a female cop who’s into porn. Like me, she’s fat and forties. And she too, has tried treadmilling off the weight but found that it just won’t budge.

Regardless of the fact that porn is becoming just as popular with women as it is with men, I envy her ability to find pleasure and variety in it, even if some of it is unrealistic. She’s 44 and has 3 orgasms in under an hour? By 40 our appetites begin to dwindle right along with our eyesight, so one can be challenging enough to achieve no matter how good your partner or vibrator may be, but 3???

Unlike her, I have someone who will service me (unless he’s busy, sleeping or working) whenever I want, but wouldn’t it add such fun and variety to my sex life if only I could get into porn too?! Sometimes there are things we wish we did like as much as there are things we wish we didn’t like. But porn does absolutely nothing for me. Nothing. Zip. Nada. It turns me on no easier than watching a video of someone jogging or a family of tigers bathing in the wild would turn me on. Thinking of a particular person I’m attracted to turns me on, but would I be any more turned on by watching that person participate in intimate acts with others? Hmm… not sure. But oh what fun it would be if I could get turned on watching a couple go at it while Tom was asleep, then by watching some hot chick do herself while he was at work. But unfortunately, it just doesn’t work that way for me and I don’t think I can make it work that way any more than someone can make themselves attracted to a particular gender or type of person that they just aren’t into.

Later…

We definitely have to get a new dishwasher when we return from Hawaii. There was a small puddle on the floor. I am NOT going back to the days of washing dishes any more than vacuuming. I refuse! Spoiled or not, I live in a lux manufactured home in a lux park and I’m not going back to my old ways now. So if it isn’t pots and pans, I’m not washing them!

Gotta carry on with the rest of the upgrades, too. We wanted to wait and see how much we’d spend in Hawaii first, which will probably be too damn much, knowing us.

We try to order things in bulk at Sam’s Club and on Amazon where they will be cheaper and save us a bit of money. For $160 we did an all-Prime Amazon order to save on shipping and he got a new hard drive for an old computer he’s using for special projects, a graphics card, and a drawer storage cabinet for tools. The rats got 20 pounds of food and some bedding. I got cinnamon K-cups, patchouli incense, and a few more of those realistic solid vinyl animals for my collection of farm and wildlife animals. To join the others will be a white-tailed fawn, a howling coyote, and a nursing German shepherd.

Funny how so many people are “excited” to start Nutrisystem. Ooh, I’m excited to feel like I’m starving my ass off! So excited to have hunger pangs wake me up! Woo-hoo, so excited to be positively hungry as hell and sluggish. Don’t forget how exciting that will be too! There’s no greater feeling on earth than being sluggish and hungry and it damn near excites me right into peeing my pants. :)

Nane wasn’t offended at all, luckily. That’s nice to know. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world had she flipped out and dumped me, but I’m glad she didn’t. Apparently, Facebook is different in Germany. Where they can disallow messages from strangers (wish we could too), they don’t see their friends’ activities unless they go to their walls. What the hell does she see in her newsfeed then???

I explained to her that that’s how I know when she’s “liked” or commented on something. I can go to her wall too, but she is on my ‘close friends’ list and that allows you to see the most activity. Still, “Why are you spying on me Miss Rainbow?” was a weird question. She’s not only on my friend list, but she has a public account.

Later…

When Andy made the comment about me not believing racism existed I was both stunned and dismayed. It made me realize I’m not the good writer I thought I was if I gave that impression. Everybody experiences discrimination to some degree. What I’ve been saying is that reverse discrimination is just as real. In some places and cases, it’s MORE real. But many people don’t seem to want to believe that any more than they want to believe there is no God or that God is evil.

I know some blacks still get shit on and that sucks. But I also know that many of today’s claims of racism are pure bullshit and not just because I was a victim of reverse discrimination myself. What happened to me wasn’t just about race, though. That was part of it. The other part was revenge for lodging a city complaint about noise and vandalism. Just because some of them are getting shit on doesn’t mean there isn’t even more of the shitting on us. Years ago society was afraid to address domestic violence and child abuse. Maybe someday people will be brave enough to address the fact that yes, many blacks do see playing the race card as a very hip thing to do. They are often favored in the courts and in the job market and often cry racism when someone pisses them off without caring who their false claims may hurt. So do I believe none get discriminated against? Absolutely not. Do I think many are exaggerating or making up bogus claims of discrimination to gain something or spite someone else? Absolutely.

For a group that can have black this and black that without being called racists, be exempt from being charged with hate crimes, and behave as they often do as a whole, I have a hard time feeling sorry for them. I’m fine with individuals who are fair, honest and real, but as a whole they suck and I don’t understand why so few people see this. Same goes for Arabs. As a whole, I have no sympathy for them. If you’re an individual who can live without killing someone that pisses you off, then I may talk to you. Meanwhile, I’m a bigot and a monster for not being politically hip, cool and correct by not loving every Arab that walks this earth same as blacks, right?

He said he wasn’t trying to piss me off but knew his posting an anti-racism pic would piss me off. Then why post it??? He said because he knew I thought it didn’t exist. Again, that’s not what I thought, but we also can’t make someone believe something they don’t believe either or like a certain person or group. Those who hate gays and lesbians aren’t going to suddenly like them just because I tell them to or want them to or go around posting anti-gay bashing pics. It’d be like someone trying to tell them Arabs are wonderfully loving, mellow, rational people who aren’t pro-violence. In other words, it’s not going to work. So we may as well not only accept who we hate/like/love, but who others hate/like/love as well. If anything, the more we try to rub something in people’s faces, not that he or anyone else is necessarily doing that, the more they tend to resist.

Meanwhile, it’s okay to take action against a black person who has been victimized in some way. What’s NOT okay is to sit back and allow them to do the same thing to whites that they don’t want whites doing to them. Dual standards. It has always pissed me off when women go down harder for the same crimes men commit or get less pay for the same jobs men have, so why should it be okay for blacks to discriminate against whites? Because of their history as slaves? But that’s just it… it’s history and that’s why they call it Black History Month because it’s HISTORY.

Nonetheless, and as I told Andy, I’m personally sick of hearing about the subject. I’m only writing this cuz I realize that if a close friend could’ve had me wrong all this time, so could others, and so I just wanted to say that no, I don’t think racism against blacks is totally a thing of the past. I think a lot of it is, but not all of it. Somebody’s always gonna hate somebody, right or wrong, like it or not.

I was in therapy for many months on account of what happened to me and while it may be therapeutic to write about our negative experiences the same as our positive ones, I’d really rather not be reminded of it so much anymore than I would think a rape victim wants to read books and watch movies involving rape. Not trying to bury my head in the sand like so many want to do instead of actually dealing with reverse discrimination, but there’s only so much time we can focus on the bad things in life. I want to focus more on happier things. I know discrimination, abuse, violence, disease, hunger, poverty and other horrible things exist and always will. But sometimes I just want to see the sunshine, you know? I don’t want to wonder what the hell my husband and I are going to do when we get too old to take care of ourselves. I don’t want to worry that I may one day end up severely obese. I don’t want to think about the possibility of getting cancer someday. I just want to see the sunshine, smell the roses, and enjoy knowing I have someone who truly loves me unconditionally and that I am healthy.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 11, 2014 Amazing! It’s actually raining out there! So I guess this will be our one rainy day for this month. We’ll probably experience more rain during our week in Hawaii than we do in half a year in Cali.

Tom said he read that adding salt doesn’t make water boil faster and that that’s just a myth. No wonder it seems to take forever no matter what.

Yesterday was the final day of the Fast Five Nutrisystem trial. Halfway through my day, I knew I had done it long enough to know what it was like, and started eating normally again. The next day (today) I awoke to find I’d gained the two pounds back I’d lost. All in less than half a day! So fuck NS. I don’t want to have to half-starve myself for life. Still having “skinny” dreams, though. Does this mean the doctor will find a thyroid problem and fix it? I doubt it. Seems too easy. I will mention my suspicions, though, as well as show off my beautiful ingrown toenail and ask what she recommends about that.

Can’t wait to find out if Nane dumps me come Monday after letting her know I took offense to her “question,” assuming she checks in that day. Guess it will depend on how busy she is. If she does I won’t be on Facebook that much at all. I’m sick of the glitches and could definitely do without having to hear about how much Sarah loves her asshole daddy. clenches fists Like a rape victim having to hear all kinds of praise for her rapist. I could block her from my newsfeed, but she is my niece and would rather not do that just yet. It’s weird, though. All this love and praise for her father and sister (the sister I can understand), but none for Mom? They always seemed to get along at least from what I can tell.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 10, 2014 We have now lived here for half a year! I can just imagine how many outdoor projects the Jes pest has completed in this 6-month period. How many decks has he hammered out? How many old mufflers has he beat on? How many engines has he built and gunned? How many trees has he sawed down? How many times has he roared in and out on his Harley? How many problems has the trailer had? How much barking has the new renters had to hear? How many firebreaks will his motorcycle-loud bulldozer have to create? A lot if I’m right about this drought being the new way, thanks to global warming.

Anyway, today is the last day of the Fast Five. I will decide next month if I want to go all out on it. It will surely prove or disprove my thyroid suspicions if I do. I’m just glad my period was on time so that’s one less thing I have to deal with when trying to enjoy my Hawaiian vacation! Now if my sleep issues and screaming kids could just keep out of it…

Today I got that head rush or lightheaded feeling or whatever it is for the first time in nearly a week, but it backed off after I ate. I don’t like to discuss medical problems anymore, but will just quickly say that I’ll be addressing my ingrown toenail which gets on my nerves at times to the new doctor I see in a few days and we’ll see what she recommends. I guess I’ll probably return after the trip for standard blood and urine work too, but I don’t know about a female exam. I’m the type that would prefer not to go to a doctor unless I have a problem, though I know some wouldn’t agree with that. Tom thinks I should have my heart listened to every now and then as heart disease is hereditary and is what killed my father, both grandfathers, and an uncle.

On the menu for my final trial day is a peanut butter granola bar for breakfast, potato soup for lunch, flatbread pizza for dinner, and a peppermint patty for dessert. I will, as always, mix in some fruits, veggies and dairy. Baby apples are a good thing. They’re cheap and easy to grab and eat whenever. I don’t hate them like I hate carrots, but I’m not overly fond of apples either. With baby ones, I can take just a few bites and not have to deal with eating a whole apple. Yesterday’s snack was popcorn and OMG! It was delicious! Very movie theater-like. Loved the chicken Alfredo, too.

Later…

Alison has not only continued to get emails from Molly and her mother, but mostly Molly, but she deleted that account. Apparently, Molly would send messages from a few accounts and they would go back and forth. In one she wanted to send her a belated Christmas present and in another, she’s accusing her of being a mean, heartless bitch. Don’t know that I’d go so far as to delete the account, but am glad they never got a hold of any of my email addies. Alison seems to change email addies regularly, though, which may have to do with work or something I don’t know about.

Molly is currently restricted from going online, but give it two months or so, and the “experts” will deem her cured and allow her to go back online to repeat her mistakes which mostly consists of contacting those who don’t want to be contacted. My tracker will tell me when she returns. She can’t see my blog, but she can still go to it. It’s like with Facebook. Anyone can go to my Facebook page, they just can’t see the posts. For now, I am enjoying a troll-free, drama-free cyber life! Still not sure if a year of going underground and making myself hard to access and my activity a total mystery will shake her or Kim completely, cuz there’s a difference between the mean troll and the crazy troll. A lot of crazy people out there seem to live in a time warp with absolutely no sense of time whatsoever. A year under radar to them could very well seem like a week. They simply have no perception of time.

Then I get another email from Alison today saying that Kim dumped her and she felt hurt, angry and sad, but figured all she could do was learn from it and move on. True, and as I told her, I can’t express the importance of going underground enough to her, and not contacting or responding to them in either way. Not if she wants the slightest chance in hell of forever escaping these loons.

In Aly’s email about Kim shutting her out, she said to please not tell her that I told her so. I told her no problem and that if anything SHE might soon be telling me that. Back when Nane dumped me in 2010 for 6 weeks, supposedly due to a misunderstanding, she said she felt she had been playing with me and might eventually dump me again.

But then Nane and I made up and things were fine. About 2-5 times a week we’d chat and she really seemed to care about me and what was going on in my life. She let me into her life as well and shared some interesting experiences with me, which I appreciated and enjoyed.

Now, though, I’m wondering if she’s on the verge of dumping me again. If she does I can tell you right now there will be no round two of kissing and making up. I fought to win her back over the first time, but this time I’m not going to care enough to fight for her. If she wants out of this friendship, fine. I will let her go because I know the frustration of what it’s like to try to disengage myself from those I no longer want to associate with who just can’t let go, and would never want to make anyone feel like they’re stuck with me or anything like that. If you want out… go!

Fortunately, Nane’s one of the few I can imagine ever stalking me if our friendship did end. Most people, though, will seek revenge on you and stalk the hell out of you. Sure seems that way anyway.

The last several weeks I’ve been hearing less and less from her and at first I wondered if it was because she saw a picture of me that shows the weight I gained. I didn’t regret sharing it with her, though, cuz that’s how you know your true friends. Also, I’m comfortable enough with how/who I am that I don’t need anyone’s approval either. If I ever do lose weight it will be for me and me only. Sorry, but trying to snuff that selfish side of me is like trying to snuff that side of me that loves rats as pets. That’s been my attitude for a long time now. Don’t like how I look; the simple solution is to just not look at me. :)

But I wasn’t sure that this had anything to do with it since we did have quite a bit of contact immediately afterward. Eventually, I started hearing less and less from her and began to wonder why and why she was ignoring or at least putting off my messages and not able to answer a simple little question like whether or not she got the email I sent her. I also reminded her to give me her address, which she said she would do so I could send her a postcard from Hawaii, and she hasn’t even done that. Finally, I messaged her this morning and told her I’d seen her online every day but wanted to give her space. Meanwhile, is everything okay?

Then I wake up today to find, “Why are you spying on me, Miss Rainbow?”

I blinked with confusion and said to myself, is this a joke? She IS on my friend list, duh, so I can see her likes, comments, and other activities without having to “spy.” But there was no smiley face she usually includes when she’s joking and I began to wonder if her heart was really in our friendship at this point.

As time went on and I had a chance to reflect on it, I realized I was kind of offended by this “question.” Anyone who feels “spied” on should not be on my friend list. Period. I even considered deleting her and seeking out a couple of friends’ advice but didn’t want to drag them into something that had nothing to do with them. But then when Alison shared her story with me I felt I could update her and ask what she thought she would do. She said she could be joking. It’s hard to say. She too, would probably feel insulted by that but I shouldn’t delete her without telling her how I feel. How she reacts will probably answer my question as to whether or not she really wants to remain friends. I agree. So I did tell her how I felt and asked if she still wanted to be friends. I have a feeling it’s going to piss her off and into dumping me, but that’s how I’ll know, and as I said before, the door is wide open if she wants to go. I don’t want to dump her just to end up wondering if I jumped the gun and made a mistake like I almost did with Adonis, thanks to fucking Kim and her impersonation games she just has to play. I’d rather let her dump me and spare me any guilt if that’s what she truly ends up doing.

Later…

Had a dream I wrote:

Dear God,

Someday you’re going to allow someone to fuck me over that even You can’t protect.

When I awoke my mind flashed back to all those who wronged me in both big ways and little ways as a child and as an adult - from family to friends, from authority figures to neighbors - and how no one has ever been made accountable for any of it. This still, and will always, bother me to know that I am so damn worthless in God’s eyes that I am deserving of whatever shit people want to dish at me and it’s okay. Again, I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when there are too many of them anyway. A few people getting away with things would’ve been one thing, but when so many have done so much that always, always happen to have a hold on me or are somehow out of reach and exempt from either the law or my fists, it’s obvious that a higher power of some kind is protecting them. I’ve known this for a while now.

What I realize is that I’m no different than others in some ways. I have made it a point for a long time now not to be vengeful in ways I can possibly be vengeful, but I also realize that just like everyone else, I am only human and I do have my limits. Everybody’s got a breaking point at which they could snap like a twig. Mine would be if someone tried to harm the person I love most – my husband.

Let the law handle anyone who did that?!?! Our often corrupt and unfair law?!?! My ass I would let them handle it and risk the perp walking on some lame technicality whose whereabouts I may not be able to trace!

Leave it to karma to get them? Nah, I don’t think so. Karma seems to forget an awful lot of people, and while karma may certainly be quick to visit me if I step out of line, karma visiting those who have wronged me (or my husband) is almost certainly pure wishful thinking. Remember, once you’ve met your soul mate, what happens to you happens to them. It was me the Phoenix people were after, but watching his wife get legally fucked over was victimizing him as well. So if my perps aren’t punished for their evil deeds, his probably wouldn’t be either, is my point.

After I was freed from jail and vindicated, I promised myself I would never ever again be held in captivity of any kind, and that doesn’t mean being held back by poverty like we were for many years. It means places like Valleyhead, Brattleboro, jails… anyplace I can’t open a door to and walk out of any time I want to. Cuz that’s another thing right there; if I’m ever framed and sent to jail ever again, the person(s) responsible better make damn sure I never get out alive, for sometimes we have to bypass doing what’s “right” to do what we feel is right in our hearts, legal or not, against society’s views or not.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 9, 2014 Woke to Day 4 and was glad to find myself not utterly famished for once. Not gonna update my weight on NS, though until next month, if I decide to dive into this full-time.

I was wrong yesterday in saying I was down 2.2 pounds. It was actually 1.2, duh, but now it’s 1.4.

Anyway, today I definitely have to get out for my 2-mile run as I don’t like to take more than 2 days off from that. It’s a serious, hard-core, heart-pounding, foot-stomping, sweat-pouring workout, though, so it’s not something I do every day. Tomorrow is arm and ab day.

The rats are out getting their own daily exercise, then it will be my turn.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 8, 2014 Down 2.2 pounds, hungry as hell, but still alive and well. Just a quick update for those considering or at least curious about the 5-day Nutrisystem trial I’ve been doing, then enough food talk for me! I’m staying offline more too, where I don’t have to see ad after ad about this restaurant or that restaurant, as well as posts and chats about what people ate for lunch and plan to eat for dinner. Tell me this shit on Saturday! I mean sure enough Andy’s got a pic up on how McDonald’s is out of “boy toys.” Sometimes I wonder if he likes to annoy/offend me or if he’s just that inconsiderate and lacking in common sense.

Unlike Andy, my sister and many others, I’ve never been good at cooking and nutrition and all that shit. Of course I know what’s healthy and what’s not, but I’ve never been good at balance, variety, measuring, cooking and that sort of thing. Part of it is probably due to my not being good with numbers. That’s why Tom takes care of the finances while I compose any important email (unless I’m not available when he needs it done) so he doesn’t have to spend 45 minutes doing what takes me just 5 minutes to do. Even though his spelling and grammar are pretty good, it takes him forever just to write a lousy paragraph about whatever. Every now and then I catch him in serious boo-boos like when he listed a sequined cap we sold on eBay back down in Arizona as “sequenced.” rolls eyes and laughs I’m sure he also thinks he “petals” his bike when he really pedals.

Anyway, I thought it’d be $300 a month to go all out on their program, and it is if you want to customize your menu. They have 3 plans, so I saw, but I would be fine on the basic plan for $230 where they choose your menu for you. There are only a few things I may not like in the plan, but I would still eat them. Hey, as hungry as you are on this thing you just might even consider dog shit! Nutrisystem’s food is still WAY better than most other diet foods like Weight Watchers. Their food is horribly spicy. Sometime in February I will sit down and write a list of pros and cons to both losing weight and NOT losing weight.

On today’s menu is a whole-wheat bagel with a touch of real honey for breakfast. Inside the package was this oxygen absorber that says DO NOT EAT. The bagel felt and tasted amazingly fresh, though a bit on the bland side.

Lunch will be a chocolate caramel bar, dinner will be a chicken pot pie, and dessert will be chocolate chip cookies.

I love having something different every day. Because I’m such a shitty cook, variety wasn’t easy for me. I’d often get things in bulk and have the same things too many days in a row. Tom would have to go for the more expensive customized plan if he ever wanted to do this cuz where I’ll eat almost anything, he’ll eat almost nothing. He’d hate about 75% of the stuff.

Yesterday was surprisingly worse hunger-wise. Some of that and the fatigue could be PMS-related, but I’m sure a great deal of it is the diet cuz that’s just what diets do. I’m hoping my stomach has now shrunk enough that it won’t feel like it’s been on empty for months. It’s too early in my day to say right now.

May skip my run for today, but haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll spend most of the day cleaning and proofreading.

The damn spiders are already back. When I walked through a break in the Cypress trees for yesterday’s run I felt a web cling to me – yuck!

The electric company was at the house across the street. I wonder if they found an electrical problem when they did the inspection cuz that seems to be when the deal fell through and it was put back on the market.

So what is it with my PMS being on time while my period is late???

Later…

My period is starting after all – yay, no period in Hawaii! – but I’m not sure that trying to avoid discussions and ads pertaining to food while on the Fast Five is right after all. Initially, I was hoping for a little more support (hint, hint), since after all, we wouldn’t wave a cigarette in front of someone’s face that was trying to quit, would we? I’d hope not anyway! But I also realize that the mentioning of food and ads related to it isn’t going to go away simply cuz I’m doing this trial run here.

NS recommends keeping a daily blog/journal about my dieting/exercising experiences to help me reflect on my progress and better reach my goals. This makes sense, but then some people will insist I’m obsessed with it and they’ve heard enough about it, blah, blah, blah.

Taps fingers thoughtfully What to do, what to do, what to do… I guess I should just do what I feel is best for me in this case and not worry so much about others. We all see/hear shit we’d rather not see/hear or that we don’t like and may not be interested in both online and offline. So… if you don’t want to read about my NS experience, don’t. Meanwhile, I’ll stay offline or at least be picky about where I go in cyberspace if I don’t want the food reminders.

That being said let me update Day 3. Well, it was terrible. I was hungry as hell and sluggish like you wouldn’t believe. I was really hoping today would be easier, but if this is the way it’s going to continue to be, then it’s not worth it at all. Hell, I’d rather GAIN weight than feel this yucky.

Two more days to go, though, so I’m not going to make any decisions just yet as to whether or not I’m going to go all out after the Hawaii trip.

Tomorrow’s menu is granola cereal for breakfast, red beans and rice for lunch, chicken Alfredo for dinner, and popcorn for dessert.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 7, 2014 After I write about Day 1 on Nutrisystem I’m going to stay offline as much as I can to avoid the food talk. You know how it is, people are always talking about food, ads are always talking about food, yet my hunger pangs are enough of a reminder. Screw trying to ask people (like Andy) to shut up about it when dealing with me directly. It ain’t their diet/suffering so what do they care? LOL, you want support, then get offline!

Anyway, I was what I expected to be throughout most of yesterday – hungry and tired. But I’ve already lost 1.8 pounds. I knew I would. It’s continuing to get results that I have a problem with, but we’ll find out if I can break that cycle in mid-February, and that’s only after finding out if 5 days of this shit is going to kill me or not, LOL. Today was off to a hungry start, but I expect that tomorrow will be when my tummy will have shrunk enough and gotten used to not taking in more than a couple hundred calories at once. It usually takes 72 hours to adjust to a diet. It will never be easy, but will be easier. Then after my trip, I can decide if I want to go all out or not. Yesterday I had:

Cinnamon streusel muffin Fudge Graham bar Lasagna Cheesecake bar 4 servings of veggies of my choosing Cheese Yogurt

Today, besides my veggies, cheese and smoothie, I’ll be having:

Double chocolate muffin Chicken noodle soup Chocolate covered pretzels Rotini and meatballs

The food is wonderful. It’s like being a kid again with having my meals prepared for me without actually being a kid again. Also without having to eat anything I don’t like, though the only item in this 5-day trial I might not like is the rice in a spicy sauce. Rice is fine, spicy sauce isn’t. The plan has a good variety of foods, including just enough sweetness that I don’t crave sweets or certain foods. No suddenly wanting to run out to KFC. No wanting to slam on a pint of coffee ice cream either.

Now Starbucks caramel K cups, on the other hand, is the most God-awful coffee I’ve ever had. It’s the weirdest shit. Tastes almost like it’s laced with pepper.

If I enroll in a plan online, then I can pick exactly what I want to eat and weed out anything that may be too spicy or too bland. Like I said, though, right now I just want to get a feel for what it’s like. No point in going all out with it now just to go stuff myself in Maui. If I feel it’s sustainable I’ll give it a shot in February, like I said, and see if I can lose more than the usual 3-5 pounds. My body will probably do what it usually does, though – drop a few pounds, then fight to hang onto the weight and slowly reset itself. I don’t have to get a whole month’s worth at first just in case history really does repeat itself, but then again, I like the food. So whether I lost a few pounds from it or more than just a few, I’m still gonna eat it.

Later…

Wish I knew exactly what time today they’ll mow and blow the gray house like they do every Tuesday, cuz that’s when I’d take off for my run and literally run away from the annoying buzzing sounds.

Andy and I used to tease “Nervous” about his tie collection and ask him if he showed his boss his collection of tacky ties from what seemed like the 50s. Well, if the geek was still alive and if there was such a thing as showing his boss his degree collection, he sure wouldn’t have much to show since it’s only 11° right now in Springfield, MA. LOL, that’s toasty warm compared to the -14° Andy said it was a few days ago. Makes me wanna scream just thinking about it!

Called Tammy yesterday and even got to talk to Sarah for the first time since she was 8 or 9 which was nice. She was there cleaning since Tammy can’t quite get around just yet.

I told Tammy the code to our lockbox and said that she, Mark and the girls could help themselves to our stuff if our plane went down and she asked if it was in writing. I reminded her I told her on Facebook, but as she pointed out, you really should take something like that to the bank and get it notarized with witnesses present. LOL, didn’t think about that, but she does have a point, cuz then anyone could say anyone told them to help themselves to their stuff if they died. Without a notarized note, the state would get our stuff and they’d be the ones to sell our house. Years ago I wouldn’t have given a shit what happened to our stuff if we died, but now I’d definitely prefer it if they got it.

A black car came in playing semi-loud music yesterday. Let me guess, it went right to the house the blacks are in, right?

Later…

I was skimming through my journals from the first apartment complex I lived at when I first moved to Arizona. Oh, the grief I could’ve spared myself if I’d just minded my own business and kept to myself!

They haven’t done the gray house yet, but the park was out blowing leaves, as usual. So much for taking off on my run to escape it, though, since there were others all along my running trail blowing the 20 or so leaves that were on the ground around each tree dotting the perimeters.

I only stayed out 15 minutes, as I didn’t want to make myself any hungrier than I already was. Sure got back just in time to hear Bob slam the shit out of the SUV door, though, and am really damn glad he doesn’t usually do that. Virginia must be there. The garage door is open and I only saw him behind the wheel.

Just 3 more weeks till Hawaii! Got that plus tons of appointments coming up, and the initial round of appointments isn’t it. I’ll probably have to go back to my primary doctor (or a specialist) to deal with my ingrown toe, back to the dentist to have fillings done, and back to the eye doctor hopefully only to pick up my new glasses.

Sometimes I’m not sure going to a doctor is right for me. Too many of them falsely diagnose people these days. Tammy had one doctor tell her she had a thyroid condition while another said she didn’t. I don’t expect any doctor to know it all, of course, but people’s lives and bodies shouldn’t be like one big fun guessing game to them either. How bad can they fuck up dealing with an ingrown toenail, though?

MONDAY, JANUARY 6, 2014 We didn’t get to re-potting the trees, this weekend, but we got other things done around here, plus ran the usual errands. Stopped at the closest Goodwill store yesterday and got a 24” black porcelain doll that’s actually kinda nice. Having once been a collector for many years, I knew I’d find out who she was once I got her home and studied the nape of her neck. She’s Hillary, a 1989 doll by Dianna Effner. I once had her smaller Sunshine and Lollipops doll but sold her years ago. I found Hillary, in a variety of skin colors and outfits, selling on eBay for around $80.

My Hillary has nice shiny black curls and dark curious eyes. She came in a nice, but old-fashioned dress. Her shoes are cute but need cleaning. I threw her in Twinkle’s outfit for now. Twinkle, who lays on her stomach propped up on her elbows, is now wearing her dress since you can’t see as much of it with the way she’s posed. I’ll eventually get her a new outfit from the newborn section next time I’m in a department store.

Tom got a great deal on an old computer he wants for its parts. The graphics card is good and the memory holds just as much as our Macs.

Goodwill also has good incense, so I grabbed about 8 98-cent packs of that and have vanilla, strawberry, cool water, obsession, peach, China rain, rainforest and cinnamon. The packaging is cheap, of course, and when you open the bags you tear away the labels. So I used Tom’s label printer and it’s awesome.

In about 20 minutes I’m going to have my Nutrisystem breakfast. I’ve got it set up so that I have one of their meals/snacks plus fruit and veggies of my own choosing every hour and a half. I’ll eat 9 or 10 times but most of it will be 100 calories or less.

A couple of hours from now and I gotta go out for my run. At that time I’ll let the robot vacuum. Then it’s back to proofreading and posting old journals to the tune of landscaping and car doors. Yesterday was great. There were no water outages, no show and tell at the house across the street, and no landscaping sounds. Wish every day could be like that!

SUNDAY, JANUARY 5, 2014 One of the things we got at Walmart was Plaster of Paris. We’re going to add this to the pots my artificial desert trees are in to make them weightier.

Gotta change the rats’ cage as well as do some other tasks around the house and run some errands as well.

Tomorrow starts my 5-day Nutrisystem trial. I’m sure I’ll be so damn hungry the first two days that the weekend will seem worlds away! I won’t even want to think of food. But if it is doable enough and if I do decide to go all out with it, it won’t be till mid-February. Why diet, go to Hawaii and pig out, then undo all my hard work? I picked mid-February cuz that’s when my eye appointment is and when I plan to visit the Chinese restaurant nearby for their fried rice which is to die for. Hell, I’ll probably consume 2500 calories alone that day!

At least with Nutrisystem, I won’t have to worry if I’ve fucked up counting calories since everything’s counted out for me. The only things that aren’t are my veggie servings and my 4 mini snacks, but that’s a lot easier to keep track of than a whole day’s worth of food. I need to do it for 2-3 weeks to really get a sense if anything could be wrong with me thyroid-wise or whatnot. Just about any diet will initially knock a few pounds off me. It’s continuing to get results that’s the problem. Yeah, I keep dieting but my body stops losing, haha. Maybe with something that is counted, measured and packaged for me, I will continue to get results for as long as I do it. How the hell I would maintain any significant loss, though, is totally beyond me. Like I said in my previous entry, it’s not “natural” for a 48-year-old woman to be thin, and so my body’s gonna fight it tooth and nail.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 4, 2014 Feeling kinda yucky today with the PMS from hell. Really hope I don’t skip a month and that my period is on time for once. My back aches like hell, and part of why I don’t go to a masseuse is because the PMS is going to return each month no matter what. Also, I’ll put Tom’s hands to work for 10 minutes or so and I’ll be fine. What’s not so easy to just massage away is the fucking water and fatigue. I’m just so glad I got out of the obese range so I can pick something up off the floor even when waterlogged. I swear if you stuck a fork in me, about 3 pounds of water would come gushing out like crazy!

I’m frustrated with Paula cuz no matter how many times I ask I can’t get her to tell me what’s going on with her in a message. We keep missing each other, I keep asking her to update me in a message, and she keeps telling me to call her. Fuck it. I’m not going to play phone tag games with her. Besides, nothing I dream is going to change what’s destined to come anyway.

Anyway, Tom and I are heading out soon to Walmart and then to have fun browsing through other stores as well.

Later…

Decided to just do Walmart today. We spent $200 there. Maybe tomorrow, though, we’ll go to Goodwill. You never know what bargains you may find there.

$45 of the Walmart run was that 5-day Nutrisystem trial thingy I mentioned before. I love how they make it simple and how everything is packaged, weighed, measured and cooked for you. It comes with 15 entrées and 5 desserts. Monday – Friday I will have 3 entrees, a dessert, 2 “Powerfuel” snacks of my choosing, and 2 “Smartcarb” snacks. So I will eat 10 times a day. While nothing in this package contains anything I wouldn’t eat, I’m sure the hunger will be insane cuz each item is barely more than a few bites.

This way I can tell the doctor when I see her on the 14th how my body reacted to it. If something’s wrong with my thyroid, I want to know about it and I need to know about it cuz it could be a serious problem for me later on down the road if I don’t deal with it now. There’s got to be some reason why my body gives up after losing just a few pounds. As I was telling someone else earlier, the reason I’ve probably had an easy enough time maintaining my weight is because it’s 25 pounds too much and we’re SUPPOSED to be fat when we’re older. Not obese, but fat. If I tried to maintain 120 pounds or lower there’d be no way I could do it like I could 25 years ago.

The point is that I’ve been wondering for a long time if something’s up with me or if this is how I naturally am. I don’t want to go all out on Nutrisystem and pay the $300 a month just to lose 5 pounds that’ll only return even if I keep on dieting and exercising. Or that can’t be maintained even if I did lose 20-30 pounds.

Would I do the Nutrisystem program if I knew it would work? sighs thoughtfully I don’t know. I just don’t know yet. We could afford it, but I’m not sure I’d want to get a new wardrobe either right now. It would definitely help with my mobility even more if I got some more bulk off and out of the way, but right now the home improvements are more important to me since it’s not like I’m 50-100 pounds overweight. So… one step at a time. First step is seeing what the trial is like. I’ve always been curious about how programs like Nutrisystem, Jenny Craig and Weight Watchers work. Well, not so much how they work (that much is obvious), but what it’s like to actually be on one of their programs. Once I see what it’s like and whether or not I lose weight, then I’ll decide if I want to just stay where I’m at or go all out with it. I’d also like to hear what the experts have to say about my thyroid and the results of any blood work they do. They won’t be doing much on the 14th, though. That’ll just be the initial getting-to-know-the-patient routine.

Got the dentist and eye doctor in February, and the eye doctor makes me a bit nervous. I suppose it shouldn’t, though, cuz glaucoma doesn’t fester to the point of being a serious problem overnight. It usually takes 10-15 years, so I should be years away from needing any drops if I ever do need any at all. Hopefully, the OH was just a one-time thing and the pressure will be back to normal next time around. Either way, I need stronger glasses.

One trip and 3 appointments in less than 2 months! Guess you could say I’m a little overwhelmed.

I also need this park to stop fucking with our water and stop the landscaping craze. Four times I had to hear it yesterday, and while it may’ve been short-lived, it was no less annoying. Today I hear something running that may be outside the park, but still, I hear this shit nearly every day and you would think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m not. Oh well. It’s better than 12 hours of barking.

Just when I was thinking how nice it was to have no pipes break in months, this is the third day in a row they shut our water off for about an hour.

Anyway, Tom got a label maker to create labels for his storage bins in the workshop, and I got my first paper journal since the 90s. It’s got a rainbow-colored leopard print on its hardcover and is going to be used mostly on the plane to and from Hawaii. Since I probably won’t fill up all 200 pages, I’ll probably write one here and there over the upcoming years and make my own “library” contribution along with the previous owner and all the books they left behind. I should do a page in Spanish, Italian and German, too. LOL

Okay, I’ve had enough of the mower or wood chipper or whatever the hell it is that’s been running toward the front end of the house. I’m going to crawl into bed in back with my Kindle and read to the hum of my air cleaner.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 3, 2014 Our new luggage arrived. The purple seems darker in person and I wonder if the suitcases are too small for two people for a week, but Tom says it’s plenty.

The rats’ new water bottle also arrived and that’s definitely small at 10 oz. It’s more suitable for one hamster or gerbil, but a couple of giant rats? It’s fine, though, cuz we want to add additional bottles while we’re gone in case one fails.

We got a few thumb drives as well. One’s going in the lockbox outside with all my docs, graphics and music backed up onto it. The chances of a break-in may be next to nothing, but this way they can get the electronics and other valuables, but I still have what’s most important to me in the lockbox as well as with me in Hawaii.

We’re going to do an inventory of everything that’s over $300 so our insurance can replace anything if worse came to worse, though when you think about it, we really don’t have that much of value. Only a few expensive dolls, computers, printer, TV, refrigerator and treadmill, and that’s pretty much it. We don’t have any expensive jewelry. Just our wedding bands which are always on our fingers. The car will be at the airport. It’s gonna be wonderful jumping into a car and driving home after the trip, instead of getting off a train in the middle of a cold, dark icy night where we had to walk a few blocks to the dump we rented when we returned from the Caribbean cruise I won in early 2007.

Later…

Paula left a message but wouldn’t say anything about her health. Instead, she said to call her at noon her time cuz she’s “really curious” to hear about the dream I had about her. Well, of course she is. She knows my accuracy rate is too good for comfort. If it weren’t for the grim circumstances that usually surround my dream premonitions I’d feel so blessed and so proud of just how “good” I am same as with how well I usually write and how fast I pick up languages. I’d be like, ooh, look what I can do! What a gift, huh?

Now fast forward to reality. She is A, not saying anything about her health, and B, wants to know about the dream. Kinda makes me wonder, alright, but like Tammy said, I gotta try to think positively till I talk to her.

I was thinking about a fellow writer/follower/friend who has been having lung issues. The doctors are still stumped. Sometimes I wonder if no news is better than bad news. I’m afraid that’s what I’ll get when I see my own doctor. The ingrown toenail is pretty straightforward, but other things? Not that all doctors are quacks but it seems a lot of them don’t know what the hell’s going on with their patients, and I worry about that at times. “I don’t know why you can’t lose more than 5 pounds on a sensible diet with exercise, Ms. S., or why you have to damn near starve yourself to lose more than that, and I don’t know why it all comes flying back as soon as you go back to eating SENSIBLY. Come back in some other life and maybe then I can tell you. Meanwhile, be glad you don’t mind looking like shit and have finally managed to stop gaining anymore and blowing your ass up wide enough to smother a whole army of people at once.”

THURSDAY, JANUARY 2, 2014 Can’t imagine trying to cram the 12 rolls of paper towels we got at Sam’s Club into the little old trailer that’s no doubt had numerous problems just in the nearly half a year we’ve been out of it. I’d also hate to think of just how many annoying outdoor projects Jesse, who lives for puttering around outdoors, has done by now. Either way, we won’t be buying paper towels till early 2015 and we still have a roll or two left from the last 6-pack we got.

I just wish that every time we went to Sam’s it wasn’t full of screaming kids. When are parents ever going to go back to the days of teaching their kids manners, respect and discipline? I totally dread all the screaming we’ll no doubt be in for on the plane, even in first class. Thank goodness for earbuds, though sometimes they’re loud enough to override even the loudest songs.

Speaking of things that are loud, the dog in back is the loudest one around here for sure. That’s why I thought it was next door. Where the hell did it come from all of a sudden? Gee, we must be between the 4-6-month marker where things get noisier for some strange reason. It’s not a real problem, though, so long as I don’t have to hear it more than once or twice a day. I am a little worried about open windows on that side of the house in warmer weather. If you leave a dog in an open window around here, not even 10 minutes will pass without something for it to bark at. Lots of traffic. Lots of people.

The landscaping, however, has dropped from being a daily thing now that the leaves are down on the trees that lose them, to the usual 2-3 times a week for 30-60 minutes.

Heard tons of firecrackers and some gunshots on New Year’s Eve, but none of it was in the park. It was coming from outside the park. Tom was asleep, but in my robe and slippers, I excitedly slipped out into the carport and then down the driveway to see if I could see anything. I saw flashes of light in the direction of the cemetery, but nothing else. Then I started shaking with tears like a little kid as I thought of Paula and the awful dream I had of her.

“It’s freezing out here,” I eventually thought to myself. “Get inside. This is the Sacramento area, not San Diego.”

I totally forgot, until Andy reminded me, that I also dreamed he told me he was dying of cancer and he’s fine, so that’s a good sign, too. More than likely the dream simply represents a rocky road ahead for her. Tom later pointed out that I didn’t attend her funeral in the dream. Now that we’ve fixed the MagicJack phone (it was plugged into a hub without enough juice to power it), I’ll try to call her later this morning and see what information I can get.

I’m a little disturbed by the fact that there’s a 4 in this year, as the number 4 has proven to be rather unlucky for me. Although… the years 2000, 2007, and 2011 were just as shitty, if not shittier than 2004 was.

I’ve also lived enough decades to say for sure that the first 2-3 years of each decade is significantly worse than the rest of it.

Uh-oh, just noticed another potential pattern of a scary kind. Our worst years were 2000, 2004, 2007 and 2011. 2004 is 4 years later than 2000. 2007 is 3 years later than 2004. 2011 is 4 years later than 2007. If we keep alternating 4…3…4…3… then 3 years after 2011 is… ugh! Nooooo!!!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – damn the bastard above for siccing this sleep disorder on me! If He truly is the reason for what we are and for how we are, damn Him. Just damn Him to hell and back, though no, I’m not going to get into detail. I’m not in the mood of being accused of making excuses when in fact I don’t make “excuses.” Not at 48. As a minor under 18 when others had the power and authority to use the truth against me – you bet – but now I just tell it like it is. All I’ll say is that it’s going to be tough lining things up for my appointment on the 14th. A few days of lost sleep won’t kill me, though. It’s doing it day after day, week after week, month after month that my aging body can’t take. It was hard on me when I was young, but there’s no comparison between 25 ago and now, like it or not. It’s like comparing the effects of dieting then versus now. I could lose large amounts then. Now I’m lucky if I can lose more than 5 pounds.

Oh, that reminds me. I’ve been asked what I’m doing to maintain my weight. I work out at least a half-hour every other day and I only eat when I’m hungry. No eating just to be eating.

We are going to go ahead and take advantage of the fact that we get something like 15 days a year of rain here and let most of the plants die off. Might keep one of the rose bushes and the beautiful pink camellia tree which is blooming nicely now. Fewer plants means less work and less watering.

Sugar now has his own Skype account. LOL We’re going to install cameras indoors for two reasons. One is for the very slim chance this house is broken into while we’re gone, and two is so we can call the rats once a day and “see” how they’re doing and let them hear our voices so they don’t feel so alone or like we’ve abandoned them forever. Haha, when we get back that Sugar rat is going to be all over me like crazy. Somebody just grabbed my ankle. Romeo? Nah, he’d have bitten me. That rat’s obsessed with biting.

I asked Alison to quiz Kim on whether or not she knew of my “secret” blogs. She says Kim swears she doesn’t know where I’m blogging these days; just that she knows I’m on Blogger and MO but is staying away so she doesn’t get in trouble. Well, MO’s gone, but as Aly said, she could totally know the links but isn’t saying so. Yeah, that’s why I won’t be friends with her. Because everything that comes out of her mouth is hit or miss as far as whether or not it’s true.

Molly hasn’t tried to view my blogs, but IS allowed online. She tweeted Happy New Year to Aly, even though Aly changed names there. Did she discover the account on her own or was Aly dumb enough to give it to her? Aly swears that even though she still gets emails from Molly, she’s not reading them. Even Aly’s not totally trustworthy, though. She’s not the liar the other two are, but if she’s gone back to contacting Molly she’s not going to tell me about it, knowing how much I’ll tell her she’ll regret it and is making a huge mistake. Chances are Molly dug it up on her own. That’s what stalkers do.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1, 2014 Age: 48

Martin Luther King had a dream. So did I. Only mine’s the one I hope to hell that, unlike his, doesn’t come true.

I don’t know why, but New Year’s Eve is a hot spot for psychics of various kinds. For some reason, we tend to get a glimpse of what lies ahead at this time, be it in our dreams or when we’re awake. But the “psychic window” didn’t open much for me the last few years and so I didn’t really think it would this year either.

Knowing the unknown has been a habit of mine for most of my life. It starts with that little feeling that says something wrong, which we’re all programmed with. Then around the time I quit smoking in my early 30s (coincidence?), it flourished into much more than just basic intuitiveness, mostly by way of dream premonitions of a negative kind. Almost all my negative dreams come true, sometimes even to a tee. I learned how to read various dreams and weed out the “spam” from potential signs/warnings in time. It was cool at first but by my 40s cool had turned to creepy.

I made the comment to Tom about how I’d probably be asleep this year, so I doubt I’d “see” anything while awake at least at midnight Eastern time. He said maybe the “dream people” would show me something about what’s coming up in the year ahead.

Oh, they showed me all right, in the form of a double nightmare involving suicide and death. Again, I wasn’t expecting anything unusual and figured the dream people were simply dormant and lying in wait for the next rough patch of life we go through since they prefer to be the bearer of bad news as opposed to good. Only none of it had anything to do with us and as selfish as it may sound, I am thankful for that much.

Unless my new gel and memory foam pillow I got at Sam’s Club is just hexed, barely two hours into my sleep I had the first nightmare. It involved a young girl I didn’t know that hung herself. My mother might’ve been one of the 5 or 6 people that knew her and discovered her. The girl, in her early 20s, hung from a rafter in a loft and landed sort of in a sitting position at the edge of it. We gazed up at her from down below. She was about 10’ up and there was this ramp-like ladder leading up to her. For some reason, everyone was more concerned with the small square pillow by her side than with the girl. They just had to have that pillow for some reason, but no one would dare get near her.

“It’s just a dead body,” I said. “I’ll climb up and get the damn pillow.” So I got on all fours and shimmied up the ramp/ladder. I was a few yards from the girl and pillow when the rope around her neck snapped, causing the body to flop back and then start rolling toward me. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

I woke up sweating and had to turn the fan on. Since I don’t know who that was in that nightmare, I can’t say for sure what it means. Maybe some trouble ahead for an acquaintance? Maybe they won’t kill themselves, but maybe they’re still in for tough times.

It was the second dream that was critical because it’s not only the second time I’ve had a dream like this, but it’s about someone I do know very well, my friend Paula. She’s 46 and has been on disability all her life cuz the poor girl has the mentality of an 8-year-old. She’s the type that might be afraid to see a doctor for fear of it causing the FBI to steal her bathmat or something like that. It’s a wonder she can even drive.

In the letter I just got from her she says she’s sick again but will beat it, she said to make sure I send her a Hawaiian postcard from California so she “knows” she’ll get it. Yeah, that’s just Paula for you, LOL.

In real life, she told me she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and was going to undergo a hysterectomy. So when I had the first dream of her dying, I figured that’s all it was about and that she would be okay. I don’t know if she ever really did get the hysterectomy done, but I find it hard to believe that last night’s nightmare is just a reflection of my concern for her. It’s got to mean something. I’ve had numerous dreams and visions pertaining to her and I’ve never been wrong yet.

Anyway, I went to visit her in the dream and although I was shy about it and chose my words as carefully as I could, not wanting to put her on the spot but curious just the same, I asked if she’d be okay. A dubious expression crossed her face and she said, “Oh, no, this is a solid mass.”

Her phone then rang and clearly, she didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so I walked out of her apartment and closed the door, which had been open. I realized Tom was standing outside in the hall and had heard the whole thing. We walked silently for a few seconds, then he asked, “Do you really think she…”

“Yeah, I do, Tom,” I said before I woke up, wondering if her condition is a lot more serious than even she realizes. I’ve had death dreams pertaining to my sister and another friend yet they lived even though it wasn’t without a serious fight. But this is the second dream, and again, Paula’s not very bright and her insurance is probably a joke. Hopefully, at worst this just means she’s got a very rocky road ahead of her, though it’s got to mean something. It’s got to. I don’t “reflect” in dreams. I “see.”

Good news, Mr. King. Most people like blacks. I wish my own dreams weren’t as apt to be granted as yours was.

Later…

To back up to when Bob noticed we’d left the water on, I later went out to see if things had dried up. We’re going to turn the water off to the whole house when we leave for Hawaii. That way we don’t have to worry if a pipe bursts or anything. Like what apparently happened yesterday. I’m surprised we went this many months without a park pipe bursting, but I could tell by the way the pipes farted when I got up and peed that there had been another outage.

Like most people, the people next door are in and out a few times a day. This time the SUV was gone and Virginia wasn’t around, so she was obviously out somewhere. Bob was doing something in the garage. The garage is actually pretty empty, so he definitely doesn’t have any workshop set up in there, thank goodness.

I casually asked him if anyone had gotten a dog around here to see what he’d say, but he just shrugged. Then the next day when we were heading for Sam’s Club, Tom said he saw the dog I’ve been hearing in one of the houses behind us. At first he thought the dog was loose and thought that was weird in a retirement park of all places. It was taking a leak on a small strip of grass alongside the house and he next saw someone waiting at the door. I’ve only heard it a few times so far, but I really hope that thing isn’t going off at open windows in back come spring. This is an amazingly active park so it would have plenty to go off about. We were surprised just how many people were out walking yesterday and it was cold. We both wore our jackets to the store.

Anyway, the nightmares I had left me tired so I took a nap a while ago. That fucking loud-ass car or truck or whatever the hell it is that delivers the paper just had to wake me up, of course, because I drifted off without putting the sound machine on. If it weren’t for that I’d hear everything. Vehicles, planes, helicopters, sirens, people, dogs, and just about every sound imaginable. Still, no vehicle that insanely loud should be allowed to cruise around here at 5am! How do people sleep through it?

We hit Sam’s Club at 10am and like I said in my last entry, I got a new gel/memory foam pillow as mine, which I had for 8 or 9 years, finally started to really lose its shape. We also got a memory foam bathmat to replace the old one in the second bath. I don’t think I’d like memory foam padding under our future carpet. They do make it, though.

I wear bifocals in public so I can see both near and far, and being out and seeing just how much my eyes have worsened over the last year was a sad reminder of how I should’ve upgraded my prescription before the damn trip to Hawaii. So now the vast expanses of the Pacific will be a bit blurry. It just sucks that I have to travel with the damn things at all. The last time we went on vacation 7 years ago I only needed reading glasses.

[castlebyersafterdark]

do you think mike or will might get physically maimed in s5? if so, what kind of injury do you think they might get - will it be symbolic as well? like half blindness, losing a hand, etc. some theorists think will will lose a hand because of the dnd associations and also that s1 promo pic of him where his hand is hidden in a sleeve. i would quite enjoy a good scar or something which doesnt make them too outcast in society but which also shows the stakes were high and means people will treat them with reverence, sort of like vet war soldiers. it would also be yet another obstacle for them to deal with, a way to show they still love each other, injuries/appearance be damned etc. i always imagined mike with a ruined leg, but now it looks like dustin is the one with a limp. i dont know whether to be scared or relieved for byler... will it be worse or less severe than max's blindness and dustin's limp?

I've seen some really interesting theories that explain how all the actual DnD references integrate into the potential plot and what they can mean, far better than I can explain since I don't really know the game rules or lore beyond what we see in the show. But I am... afraid for Will! I feel that something major may happen to him. Feels like there was an early rumor that Noah was being called on set earlier than most for prosthetics test fittings? As with all filming rumor, could be conjecture or assumptions as many are. And that was before the writer strike and barely any info was out. But it could make sense. That boy is going back to the upside down. Half of the theories I enjoy feature Will actually having some sort of power. Imagine he actually does cast fireball some way, and in unleashing this great power in the climactic battle, he loses a hand a la Luke Skywalker, who he's somewhat paralleled to (though he and El both share traits w both sides of the Skywalker twins. Not everything needs to be a 1:1 parallel though.) But! I feel like the DB alluded to s4 ending like Empire and that would make s5 ROTJ w the confirmed twin theory (maybe by circumstance even if not truly by blood) and that whole storyline.

Anyway! Injuries! I kinda like the idea of Mike getting a facial scar. Full circle from the original show pitch with Mike's birthmark. He had an injury s3 at the mall fight, but it doesn't last. Maybe he has the eye injury from that, Will has the arm/hand thing (makes me sad though, our artist facing hardship if it's his dominant hand lost, can't remember which side the theories think it'll be). All in all - I think we're in for some carnage and battle scars 😬😬😬 I don't think it's going to be a bloodbath of character deaths (there will be a select few tho) but I don't think they're getting away unscathed.

[vindalyn]

Panacea

A/N: Finally got the courage to post this. Currently planning on keeping this a oneshot, but that's still up for debate. Constructive feedback is welcome! Writing is also something I'm rather new to and not something I do often, so expect sentences that flow weirdly.

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I awoke.

The sound of the soft pitty-patter that stemmed from the tiny water droplets pouring down onto the lone window in my room greeted me. Groggily opening my eyes, the usual sight of the somewhat dirty, yet still obviously white-colored ceiling greeted me. As I slowly stretched my arms up above my head, I stepped out onto the cold, wooden floor of my small room. I didn't mind the cold - it just helped wake me up faster. Finishing up my stretch with a soft yawn escaping my lips, I lifted my right hand to my eyes, gingerly rubbing the crust that formed overnight out of them. So, I was awake now - why? It was pitch-black outside, but my alarm hadn't rung as it usually would - I'd have noticed it in a heartbeat, as used to it as I was. The sudden blaring of the police siren - a sound that was basically second nature to me by now - entered my ears. Were the villains acting out again? Things weren't the same after the lone hero, who held the city together by a thread, died. I still remember when I got hold of the news. He'd been our idol - our savior, and ever since he perished, things changed, sadly for the worse. No one was there to save us anymore. There was no stopping 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. The police tried their best, but they couldn't stop Masquerade from murdering thousands of people - innocent people - on that one fateful day. My parents were also one of the victims. The image of their beaten, bloodied bodies can't escape my mind, and it most likely never will. It'd been supposed to be a simple shopping trip - one, where I could finally try to mend the broken relationship my parents and I had, but… Masquerade happened. I'd been away from my parents for just a bit - just to go to the bathroom. Then the Bloodmare Hunt happened - one of Masquerade's little games. Hiding inside the bathroom saved me, but… my parents didn't make it out in one piece. The second I figured that it was safe - that Masquerade was done - I went out of my hiding place, and searched for my parents without rest. I just wanted them to be okay.

There'd been bodies everywhere - all bloody and beaten. The blood on my hands wasn't something that I noticed after a while of rummaging through body after body, staring at cold, lifeless face after face. Until I finally found my parents on the floor of the second story of the shopping mall we'd been in. Their bodies… were just like the others I had seen. I'd tried anything to "fix" them at the time - to mend them - tried applying pressure to their wounds, tried stitching the wounds back in any way I could, through scavenging the necessary supplies from the nearby stores, but… I'd been too late. They were barely alive even before I'd come out of my hiding spot. When I started to realise that my mom and dad were beyond saving… I froze. I didn't know what to do, and so I sat there on my knees, staring at them - not thinking, not doing anything. And when it finally got through to me that they were dead? I had broken down crying.

But I gained something after: a power. The power to heal. It felt as if a switch had been flipped inside of my brain, and information regarding the nature of my power filled my mind. Ironic, that I get that which would have saved them, only after I failed. I'd been jarring at first - the power to heal. Focus and physical contact was all it took to heal a person from almost dead to fully-healthy. I could heal any type of injury in a time-frame ranging from seconds to minutes.

I let out a soft sigh, staring down at the wooden flooring numbly. I'm trying to be a superhero. Not one like Sovereign - I could never be him. He'd been gentle to any and every person that needed his help, and he'd always been ready to lend a helping hand with his super strength and whatnot. I can't be him. He'd been better than I could ever hope to be, but… I can still strive to do my best.

The people call me "Panacea". I wander around the city, visiting various hotspots of injured people to rid them of their ailments day after day, week after week. But at the end of the day? I am just a short, average-looking sixteen year old girl trying to do her best. I wonder how long I can continue doing this for? The villains will catch me one day - of course they will. Giving the people hope is something they hate - something they can't stand seeing. And what better way to punish that, than to torture the peoples' only ray of hope? These thoughts - these nightmares - have been plaguing me for longer than I'd like to admit.

But I know I have a job to do. I went down to my knees facing my bed, and took out the small, wooden box containing my costume - a white hoodie, and put it on as fast as I could, in addition to the small, white domino mask that made out my outfit. There; Now I can head out.

And as I step out of my small recluse, a feeling of determination can't help but overwhelm me. I will make a difference, and I will be the hope the city needs - I'll make sure of that.

[apoorva-ranjit]

A Day in the Life of a College Student

Hello friends, today I am going to be sharing with you everything that normally occurs in my day to today life. This is gonna be a little different from the content you’re familiar with, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless ;).

Like any other college student with morning classes, my day begins bright and early. I lied. My mornings are usually super dark. At 4, I first open my eyes. It takes me another 15 minutes to truly get up. The worst part about morning classes is not the fact that it starts really early, nor is it the fact that it’s really cold. It’s the part where you try to convince yourself that this is worth it, and that at least the day classes have it worse.

I get dressed, breakfast is usually optional, but the days that I get really, really hungry, I scarf down whatever leftovers we have from the day before + some eggs. Then I brush my teeth, which may seem kinda counterintuitive but it helps with keeping me fresh-breathed.

  The only reason I dread going anywhere outside my house, lies right outside my house. Imagine. It’s dark. You can barely see what’s in front of you. You forget your glasses. You turn to fetch it back, then you think if vision is really worth travelling ALL that distance AGAIN.

My friends, what I am referring to is the kilometer and a half of just WALKING on a graveled upwards slope in the pitch black of night. The number of times I’ve stubbed my toe on an unusually large rock placed smack dab in the middle of the road is astounding. I thought I was getting smarter by remembering the rock locations so I could avoid them. THE ROCKS CHANGE THEIR LOCATION TOO, as if to mock me for even trying.

After those excruciatingly long 8 minutes, I get to ride the bus. Now, anybody who knows me, knows the fact that Nepal’s public transport system (NPTS) and I get along about as well and mixing oil and water. Out of the 12 times I’ve been late for classes, 10 of those can be attributed to NTPS.

They either forget to hand me back my change, or blatantly overcharge. They wait 15 mins per stop, for 5 stops. At some point, even the driver must be praying to his God, asking to be forgiven for his sins. One time, I caught my Ratnapark bus at 5:50 AM. School starts at 6:30. It’s a 7km drive. There is no way I’m gonna be late today, right? WRONG!

The first move my bus driver pulled was a 15 minute wait two stops after I got on. The bus wasn’t even empty. A short person was jabbing their elbows in my gut. They were blasting their wedding songs for the whole neighborhood to listen. I was directly in front of the speakers. After what seemed like eons, the bus left. I couldn’t check the time because we were so tightly squished, but I was sure today was a late day.

What followed next were simply the bus doing their bus duties, going to stops, waiting for people to come out. For one person to get off, 15 others had to go first. Every time I thought “things couldn’t get any worse”, it did. We hit a bike. The traffic set up a checking stand in Jawalakhel, so we had to reroute. Seemingly, everybody on the bus HAD to get off at some point in the new route. A 10-minute detour took 18.

I am sat there, weighing out the pros and cons of missing classes today. I suffered through all that, just to get scolded for being late. When I make mistakes, it is right I get reprimanded. But when things are out of your hands, very bit of criticism hurts a tad bit more.

I was going to continue but this post has run for too long. Tune in next week for Part 2 of A Day in the Life of a College Student.

[ladyfogg]

Who Wants to be Lonely - 4/10

Who Wants to be Lonely – 4/10

Fic Summary: After the ground splits and sends you hurtling into the Upside Down, you come face-to-face with the notorious, and injured, Eddie Munson. Lost and hunted by otherworldly creatures, the two of you have no choice but to stick together if you’re going to find your way home. Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Female Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Language, Violence, Angst, Blood/Slight Gore, Season Finale Spoilers

Fic Song: Who Wants to be Lonely by Kiss. Full fic playlist on Spotify.

A/N: Just wanted to give a little warning that the reader deals with some anxiety in this chapter. Nothing huge but I know it can be a trigger for some. Happy reading!

Eddie sleeps for longer than he means to.

He comes to consciousness slowly, too groggy and out of it to really fully wake. Several times he dozes off again, only to come to moments later. Even though he can’t tell what time it is, he knows hours have passed. His entire body is cramped from lying on the floor and the pain is dulled, though not by much. He’s no longer lying on your lap. Instead, your empty bag is under his head like a pillow. When he strains to listen, however, he can’t hear anything. Not the sound of you moving around or your breathing.

It's that thought that makes him open his eyes.

The first thing he sees is that the barricade has been fortified with more shelves, all of which are now directly up against the door. A little worrisome but at least a good sign because it means you’re somewhere in the small building.

Eddie lifts his head to look around. Items that had been scattered about have been picked up and organized into neat piles, in very careful rows like they would have been if they were still on the shelves. Near the little area where Eddie is laying, you’ve brought over things he assumes you’re planning to take with you when the two of you leave. He spots bottled water, first aid supplies, and food among the items. But there are also tools you were able to scrounge up, like a hammer, nails, screwdriver, etc. Everything gives the impression you’ve been hard at work while he’s been sleeping. He has no idea how you’ve had the energy to do any of this. He should probably get up and let you rest for a bit. No doubt you’re running on fumes.

When Eddie tries to move, his body won’t listen. Between his injuries and the strain of running around the Upside Down, he’s stuck lying on the floor, curled onto his side. Fearful and incredibly concerned, he calls your name.

You pop out from one of the back rooms. “Right here. Everything okay?” You’ve changed out of the tank top and into an awful t-shirt with the Hawkins High logo and Go Tigers! written across it in big letters. He prefers the bloody tank top. The wounds on your arms look clean and he spots several bandages over the worse ones.

“I can’t move.”

“Shit. One second.” You duck through the horizontal doorway and are by his side almost instantly. Kneeling in front of him, a look of concern crosses your face. “What’s going on? Can you not move a specific body party or just in general?”

“General.”

“Alright. I’ll roll you onto your back then. Ready?”

“No.”

You do it anyway and every muscle in his body screams in protest. He yells out, letting loose a smattering of swears in a high-pitched angry voice. “Sorry!” you say, forcing his legs out of the fetal position. “Sorry, sorry! My bad! Figured it was best to just do it fast!”

“I’m in pain so I’m going to let that go and not make a dirty joke. Just know I was thinking it.” Now that he’s lying flat on his back and his legs are stretched out, he feels a little bit better. But still can barely move without something pulling or protesting. “Fuck, this isn’t good.”

“I’m no doctor but, pretty sure you’re not going anywhere until your body’s had time to heal.”

“We’re stuck in another dimension with a homicidal madman who is bent on world domination and can astral project into people’s minds. I don’t have time to heal.”

“Yeah, well, you also don’t have a choice, Munson. Neither one of us does.”

Eddie sighs heavily. “I guess I can’t argue since I can’t even fucking stand, which poses a whole new set of problems.”

“Like what?”

“I have to take a piss.”

“Yeah, I was afraid of that. I had the same problem earlier so I had to make some changes to the bathroom. I’ll help you up.” You lean forward, ready to take his hand when you pause and add, “But I’m not helping you pee. That you’ll have to do on your own.”

“Terrible customer service. I’m complaining to your manager.”

“Oh, shut up.”

It takes a couple of tries and a lot of pain to get Eddie off the floor and to his feet. His steps are slow and stunted, like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. His joints and muscles are screaming at him to lay back down. But his bladder is calling the shots and he really doesn’t feel like wetting his pants in front of the hot chick who saved his life. Slowly, and using the wall for added support, he lets you lead him to the small bathroom in the back.

When you said you made some changes, he thought you meant that you dug a hole or something. You did dig a hole, but you also ripped the toilet off the ceiling and stuck it right over the crack in the cheap plaster on what is now the floor. Once on the left wall, now the sink is on the ceiling, thankfully still secured in place.

“The sink sort of works. It at least drips some water when you turn the nozzles. Also, we have another weapon,” you tell him, holding up a piece of piping, no doubt what you used to bust through the wall.  

“Maybe the sink doesn’t work because you broke off a fucking pipe.”

“Nah, this one went to the toilet. I think. Oh well, it was loose anyway and we can’t keep sharing the one spear.”

“Alright, Wonder Woman. I think you need to go take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

Bullshit. Absolute, bullshit. Eddie may not know much, but he knows exhaustion when he sees it. His uncle works non-stop and gets burnt out pretty quickly. He can recognize the signs well by this point. You’re exhausted to the point of hysteria. Your hands are shaking and if you weren’t in the Upside Down, he would think you were on something. Hell, you actually could be on something but he doubts it.

“You yanked a toilet off the ceiling and are waving a pipe around,” Eddie says. “We’re going to talk more about how not fine you are right after I finish in here.”

“I should probably give you some privacy then.”

“Yeah, probably.”

You duck out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed on your way out. Eddie desperately needs to lay back down so he uses the bathroom fast. He checks out the ceiling-sink and when he turns the nozzle, a small trickle of water comes out like you said it would. Realizing how utterly gross he feels, Eddie decides to take advantage of the opportunity. He carefully takes off his jacket and slings it over the toilet tank. Trying to avoid soaking his bandages, which isn’t difficult given the little bit of water he’s actually getting, he does his best to wash the grime and blood from himself.  

It's a slow process but once he’s done, he feels better and uses paper towels to dry himself off. He’s not in any rush to put his jacket back on, intent on checking and changing his bandages once he’s sitting back down. Eddie slings his jacket over his arm.

Using the walls for support, he carefully makes his way out of the bathroom. He expects you to be right there, but you’re not. You’re on the other side of the room where he was laying, spreading clothing on the floor. Now that he can properly take in the store, he realizes just how much you’ve done. He would be impressed if he wasn’t incredibly worried about your mental health.

“What are you doing now?” he asks, inching his way back towards you, resting most of his weight on the wall.

“Laying down some clothes for some cushion. It’s not much, only a few shirts I found in the back. Speaking of which, I have a shirt for you.” You hold up a shirt that matches the one you’re wearing.

“Yeah, I’m not wearing that.”

“Why not?”

“Not my style.”

You roll your eyes but toss the shirt onto the pile. “You really should cover your bandages. But let’s check them first. I found some antibacterial ointment that should help.

“I can handle that. You really should take a nap.” Once again you wave him off and keep putting together the makeshift bed. Eddie’s not letting it slide though. When he finally makes it to you, he reaches out to put his hands on your shoulders. “Stop, just…stop for a second.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, you really need to lay down and I want to make sure you’re not on the dirty floor.”

“It doesn’t matter. Seriously, just chill for a second.”

“NO, Eddie, I can’t!” your voice is sharp and tinged with anger. Your hands are shaking as you keep trying to fiddle with the makeshift bed. You’re not even looking at him as you speak. “I have to do something. I can’t…we’re stuck here and you’re hurt and so I have to be useful. I have to take care of things.”

With great difficulty, Eddie crouches down to your level, turning you around to face him. “You need to take care of yourself,” he says. “Weren’t you just trying to tell me the same thing? If I can’t sacrifice myself to take care of you then you can’t sacrifice yourself to take care of me.”

“But—”

Eddie shushes you, using the same voice he uses on his Hellfire clubmates. “Shhh! No! Stop it. Don’t argue. Just, fucking sit and stay still for a second.”

With no other choice, you sigh and nod. The two of you sit down together. His body relaxes the moment he’s no longer crouching. Eddie leans his back against the wall and pulls you along with him so that you’re tucked into his side.

“See, this isn’t so bad,” he says, sliding his arm around your shoulders and giving you a reassuring smile.

“No, I guess not.”

“Good. I’m glad. Now, do you want to tell me why you doubled our barricade then proceeded to clean like a crazy person?”

You don’t answer right away and Eddie begins to wonder if you ever will when you say in a small voice, “There was something outside.”

Eddie’s smile immediately fades. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get a clear visual. I was too scared to move. But I could hear it. It wandered around the building and came up to the doors. I thought…” Your voice cracks.

Oh. That explains it.

Eddie pulls you into a hug. Whether it’s the gentle touch or the realization of what you experienced, he’s not sure but as soon as he does, you start to cry. You don’t have to finish your sentence. He gets it. He understands. You were thrust into a world you didn’t know existed and immediately had to fight for your life. Seriously, if anyone understood it was Eddie. He thinks back to his days on the run, hiding out at Reefer Rick’s cabin, not knowing if Jason and his goons were going to find him, all the while picturing Chrissy on the ceiling. He lost count of the number of times he cried.

“It’s alright, you’re okay,” he says, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “I know what you’re feeling. Trust me. I get it.”

“Yeah, I suppose you do.”

You wrap your arm around his waist and hug him back, your cheek pressed to his chest. The skin-on-skin contact makes Eddie suck in a breath. It’s been a while since he’s had that kind of human contact and it takes him by surprise how much his body responds to it. His arms circle you tighter and he presses his face to the top of your head, closing his eyes and savoring the moment.

“I keep picturing those bats diving at me,” you say between sobs.

His mind flashes back to the swarm taking him down as he tried to save Dustin. “Me too.”

“I almost woke you when the thing showed up, but it moved on.”

Eddie has the mental image of you, scared in the dark, shaking like you are now and he hates it. Hates that you were terrified while he slept. “Next time, wake me up, no matter what. Okay?”

“Okay.”

There’s a stretch of silence, time where you both are taking in what’s happened. Fuck, a week ago the only thing Eddie needed to think about was passing Ms. O’Donnell’s final and now he’s locked in a convenience store, trying to keep literal monsters at bay. You’ve had your world literally turned upside down in the span of one day. It’s a wonder you two aren’t fully insane already. He looks around, taking in what you’ve done to the place.

“The store looks good.”

You give a weak chuckle, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Thanks. It started when I was looking for more bandages and then, the next thing I knew, I was organizing everything.”

“Don’t forget, you also ripped a toilet off the fucking wall. Well, ceiling I guess. That’s pretty badass and very Incredible Hulk of you.”

“It was half-off anyway. I just ripped it the rest of the way.”

“And then ripped the pipe out.”

“We needed another weapon!”

Eddie smiles and affectionately shakes his head. “You’re an interesting woman, sweetheart.”

“Is that good or bad?”

He hopes you don’t hear the way his heart skips a beat. Clearing his throat, he says, “It’s good.”

You don’t say anything in response. Your body is trembling and he can feel the warm tears against his chest. After a while, the tears stop and when he listens closely, he can hear you breathing steadily. Carefully he draws back a little to glance down at you, only to find that you’re fast asleep. Oh noooo. Guess he has to just sit there and hold you while you sleep.

Eddie could use a few more hours himself, but since you mentioned there was something skulking around outside, he decides that sleeping in shifts is probably a better idea, at least for right now. Not that he can do much if something does happen. Unfortunately, after sitting that way for some time, his body starts to cramp up again and he realizes he needs to stretch out.

And probably grab some painkillers from your neat stack of medical supplies.

What comes next is Eddie spending an obscenely long time trying to move without disturbing you too much. Which is incredibly difficult not just because you’re resting against him, but because he can hardly move in the first place. Also, your arms are securely fastened around his waist and in any other situation, he would stay there until the end of time.

Gently, and going as slow as possible, Eddie regrettably pries your arms off. Next, he takes one of the shirts you laid out and slips it under your head. You move a little and mumble something, making him freeze. But then you’re still again and he keeps going. Biting his tongue in concentration, Eddie very carefully shuffles out from under you, while also supporting your head. It takes way longer than it probably would have if he wasn’t injured, but eventually, he’s able to lay you down on the floor without waking you up.

Of course, now he’s chilly without the warmth of your skin touching his.

Don’t think about that. Not the time, Eddie, he tells himself.

Picking up his leather jacket, he lays it over you like a blanket. Begrudgingly, he puts on the Hawkins High shirt to combat the cold. Thank god no one is around to see it.

He takes a few painkillers and chugs some more water before changing his bandages. Thankfully, you did a fairly decent job of sewing him up and there aren’t too many cuts leaking through. At least he’s not actively bleeding anymore. That’s a plus. Even though he needs to lay down, he has a smoke and pokes around looking for something to eat. Smiling to himself, he sees that you organized all the food into meals: a sandwich, some chips, a can of fruit, and a bottle of water. You even set one aside for him with double the chips, which he knows because you labeled it with a post-it note saying: for Eddie.

Damn it. You need to stop being cute or he’s not going to make it out of this without becoming your willing slave.

He does think it’s a bit much that you transferred the chips into plastic baggies. Until he accidentally steps on one of the discarded bags it makes a loud crinkling sound. Fuck, you’re smart. He wouldn’t have thought of that. Of course, you wouldn’t want to take the chip bags with you. Imagine being killed in the Upside Down because you opened a loud bag of chips for a snack.

Quietly, he sits and props himself against the wall again, eating and smoking while he watches the front door. He’s not sure what you saw but El’s mention of demogorgons keeps replaying in his mind. Those fuckers are terrifying in a fantasy game. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he sees one in real life. Or when, because he’s not naive enough to think the bats are the only thing stalking the area.

On more than one occasion, his eyes slide over to watch you sleep.

Eddie has had his fair share of dalliances. Nothing serious, nothing beyond the occasional fling with a guy or girl he met at a party or backstage after a show. He’s shared his bed, not as many times as he’d like people to believe, but he hasn’t slept next to someone. At least, not on purpose and not someone who he didn’t have to rush and sneak out the door the next morning while his uncle slept.

Once he’s done eating and stubs out his cigarette, Eddie stretches out next to you on the floor and his muscles finally weep with joy. The moment he gets as comfortable as he can, he knows he won’t be able to get up for a while. You haven’t moved an inch, a testament to how fucking exhausted you must be. It breaks his heart thinking of you in a cleaning frenzy, trying to keep your body going so your thoughts don’t consume you. While the cleaning part doesn’t resonate, the other part does.

Eddie forces himself to turn on his side to face you, tucking his hands under his cheek.

He studies the lines of your face, admires the calm expression, and frowns when your forehead wrinkles and you make a noise. Eleven protected his mind from nightmares but he doesn’t know if that’s a one-time thing. And clearly, your mind isn’t being protected the same way. If he gets a chance to talk to her again, he’ll tell her to focus on you instead of him. He can handle the nightmares, he’s done it before. Reaching out, he lays his hand over yours and the moment he makes physical contact, you relax again.

Oh yeah, he is in so much trouble.

He barely knows anything about you, including whether or not you’re even available. Plus, there’s the whole “fighting for your lives” thing.

Yeah, this tracks.

Since when has Eddie Munson’s love life not been a total messy disaster?

Eddie lays there for a long time, occasionally looking over at the door but mostly he watches you sleep. Eventually, his eyelids grow heavy and he knows he’s not going to be able to hold off dozing for much longer. At the same time, he loathes the thought of waking you. You haven’t gotten nearly as much rest as he did.

He holds on for another hour before reaching over to gently pat your cheek. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Time to wake up.”

You groan with disappointment. “Noooo.” You grab the edge of his jacket and snuggle down into it.

Eddie is about two seconds away from asking you to marry him. “Well, you can go back to sleep but I’m not gonna be able to stay awake for much longer,” he says. “Unless you don’t mind neither of us keeping watch.” He hopes you'll stay asleep. Maybe he can even slip his arm around you if you're up for it.

With a sigh, you open your eyes, barely reacting to the fact that he’s lying so close to you. “It’s fine, I’m awake. I’m awake. Anything going on?”

Eddie shakes his head. “All is quiet.” He sees the way your body tenses and then relaxes when he tells you everything is clear. “Thanks for the meal.”

“Don’t mention it. I should probably eat something too.”

“After, will you make sure you just sit for a bit? Like, read a magazine or something.”

“We’re in an alternate dimension and you expect me to read Just Seventeen?”

“No, of course not. There’s also Playboy.”

You roll your eyes and playfully shove his head away. “Get some rest, Munson.” You sit up with a groan, his jacket still loosely around your shoulders, a sound and visual that he totally doesn’t think about for way too long. The jacket slips when you stretch your arms above your head. “Thanks for the coat.”

Eddie averts his gaze when your shirt rides up just a little, just enough to show a flash of skin. “You’re welcome. I will rest but only if you promise not to go on another cleaning spree,” he says, taking the jacket as you hand it back to him.

“Nope, can’t make that promise.”

Eddie sighs and starts to force himself to sit up. “Alright, well, guess I’m not going to sleep then.”

“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” you say, trying to stop him from moving. “You need to lay down.”

“If you’re not going to rest then neither am I.”

“You can’t be serious…”

Eddie raises his eyebrow. “Try me,” he challenges.

There’s a beat of silence, a moment of contemplation where you study him through narrowed eyes, trying to see if he’s messing with you or if he is really willing to hurt himself just to get you to take it easy. When he makes another move to get up, you finally break. “Okay, okay, fine. I won’t clean,” you say. “Just, lay down and don’t hurt yourself.”

“Oh thank god,” Eddie says, laying down with a dramatic huff. “I was totally bluffing.”

“You ass.”

“Seriously, though. Will you rest?”

“Yes, Eddie. God, I will take it easy.” You draw an X over your chest. “Cross my heart.”

“If I wake up and this place is cleaner, you’re in big trouble.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, Munson? Spank me?”

Eddie swears his heart nearly leaps out of his chest and the mental image of you bent over with his hand leaving an outline on your ass makes him take a second too long to answer. And when he does, he can’t stop himself from saying, “Well, I mean, if you’re into that, sure. But I don’t do any kinky shit without a safe word.”

You laugh. Not the quiet laugh he’s heard before, but a loud one that has you covering your mouth. “Oh my god, you’re the worst. Go to sleep.”

You get up, shaking your head and still chuckling to yourself. Eddie can’t help grinning, making himself as comfortable as he can on a bed made of thin t-shirts and a leather jacket for a blanket. “That wasn’t a no!” he says over his shoulder.

You laugh again, muttering to yourself, “My God, this man, I swear…”

Still grinning from ear to ear, Eddie closes his eyes, preparing for sleep. It takes him a while to quiet his mind as he listens to you grab something to eat and then set yourself up against the wall again. However, even when he starts to drift off, the smile is still in place because he is one-hundred percent right: that wasn’t a no.

Taglist

@thirddeadlysin @imagine-all-the-imagines @ladymunson @daddychicka @nerdboylover @witchymoonbabe @fangirling-4-ever @sadbitchfangirl​ @endurexxsurvive​ @justtryingtobecreative @toobsessedsstuff @sweetpeapod @perlaluna​ @kaiscumsock @alanangels @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual​ @eddieswifu​ @kokokabana-blog @ruinedbythehobbit @persephone13

[husbandohunter]

A Small Predicament [Baby Genshin x Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Cursed for a week, the boys either have to live with it or find a cure as soon as possible. You on the otherhand hoped otherwise.

(A/n): It only takes ONE glance for me to start having ideas. It was twelve in the morning yall, enjoy~

Oh here's part 2

--------

Scaramouche

• "Oh you shrank? I couldn't tell-"

• Threatens that he will murder you to pieces and burn your remains but his voice was so squeaky and high pitched (voice crack) that you couldn't help but burst into a tearful laughter. 

• Its payback time  Bully him, take his hat and hover it above his head. Truthfully, without his hat Scaramouche looks like a little schoolboy. Overall less intimidating.

• Tries glaring. Cute. He's really bratty as a kid, sitting on a high chair (which you had to help him get on) and demanding his servants to do his bidding. In reality, his personality never changed. You realized that even as a grown up he still acts like this (bratty kid in a grown man body).

• The curse made his week a living hell. Signora had the audacity to pull his ear when he misbehaves. Childe constantly messes with his hair while giving head pats and the WORST of all, pinching his cheeks. Scaramouche never wanted to commit arson so bad in his life.

• Eventually finds a cure so he doesn't have to deal with it anymore and orders everyone to never speak of it again. Though, he's plotting how he'll get revenge on everyone who made fun of him using the very same curse (You better run).

~~x~~

Diluc

• "Oh…Oh my! Diluc you're just so cute!" 

• Diluc grimaces as you glomp him in this state. How can you help it? With his head so small it makes his hair all the more fluffier! His coat no longer fits him to the point the sleeves had made past his fingertips. He tried wielding his claymore again, only to lose balance and fall flat onto his bum

• (insert kid voice "Retribution!") Did I mention the babyface?

• Diluc tries to act as if everything was normal, acting like the Darknight hero and Mondstadt's Tycoon but fun-sized. He couldn't. There was no way people would take him seriously in business meetings. Same with fighting abyss mages, his smaller form was too much of a disadvantage. Thus you ended up doing most of his paperwork.

• One time you caught him sitting on the floor couldn't reach his office desk  while reading away the various books for a cure. It was three in the morning. You told him it was way past his bedtime and he argues saying when did he ever have a curfew schedule. In the end you managed to convince him and he begrudgingly obliges.

• The type to NOT ask for help even when it's obvious that he really needs it. Before he was the one who helped you reach things from the top shelves, oh how the tables have turned. He avoids Kaeya like a plague unless he was in it for another round of funny remarks. When he wanted to go out and get some fresh air, you insisted on accompanying him. Worst mistake in his life. A travelling merchant bumps into you and commented that you had a very cute son. Diluc was mortified.

• The day ended up with him sulking in his room. Although it was tempting, you resisted from cooing over his adorable form after days of treating him like a child. It wasn't because you were teasing him, Diluc just works so hard that you wanted to spoil him a bit. At least he could still play a game of chess with you.

• When things went back to normal, Diluc ensures that you will NOT see him as your son.

~~x~~

Kaeya

• "Well look who it is, my little Prince Kaeya~"

• Tries really hard not be bothered by it at all. Kaeya still maintains his suave facade, throwing in a couple of flirting lines here and there (and forcing his voice to go a few octaves too low in which puberty has yet to occur HA). Though no matter what approach, he couldn't ignore the sparkling mischievious glint in your eye. You were obviously not taking him seriously.

• Things couldn't get any worse. He lost his masculine physique and boob window, he wasn't able to go to certain places without supervision. But the worst thing of all was that he was underaged. Kaeya hated the fact he couldn't drink anymore, he even insisted you to sneak him a few bottles (which you refused) and had to settle with plain beverages such as fruit juice (what an insult). He was never really grounded since his childhood days but he certainly felt like he was grounded now. 

• Kaeya still kisses you on the lips whether you like it or not. If you ask him to sit on your lap, he will find a way to turn the position into his favour such as resting his face between your breasts. You're not gonna treat him like a kid, nuh-uh, he actively avoids it.

• Since his personality still remains, Kaeya is a naughty child. He will use his innocent appearance to sway people (even you) to get what he wants. That was how he was able to take a sip of the wine he stole somewhere (he wouldn't tell you). Diluc scolded him heavily and threatened to ban him from drinking from his Tavern for a week (they ended up arguing, Kaeya being the passive aggressive little shit he is).

• He was extremely relieved to return back to his normal form again. He has so much to catch up (specifically his bedtime activities with you *wink wonk*)

~~x~~

Child(e)

• "Hmmm to be honest, this actually suits you very much."

• Unlike the other boys, Childe was completely okay with it. Turns out that YOU were the one who was not going to be okay. If you thought taking care of Teucer was energy-draining then expect Childe to take that tenfold and beyond.

• You've officially became his full-time babysitter who is in desperate need of a raise (and rest). You can't take your eyes off of him and archons forbid that he will ever meet Klee. One point he'll be running ahead by your side and the next you'll find him getting himself in a 1vs7 situation with some shady looking treasure hoarders. Childe genuinely thinks he could take them on but the curse downgraded his abilities. You carried him and barely made out of it alive. (This made you ponder whether the best solution would be to strap him against a chair for the time being…)

• Childe being a child will eat all the candies and ice cream he pleases. You wonder if the curse also turned him a few years back or was it that he acts like this simply because he wanted to (it was the latter). He loves being spoiled, spoiled by you! Childe demands your full attention, spoon-feeding his meals, back rubs and head pats. Yep, he's definitely doing this on purpose.

• Did he just call you 'mommy'? (Childe has mommy kink confirmed).  He has so much energy that it was exhausting, you literally had to drag him away from what ever he was doing in order to get him to bed. "No Childe, your sleeping time is 9p.m stop whining." He bargained that he'll sleep if you sleep beside him (you didn't get any sleep. You knew what he was planning. In the end, you tried to make sure he didn't sneak out behind your back.)

• Finally you were able to get out of that hell-hole. Childe promised to make it up to you, you deserve it after all~

~~x~~

Small (aka Xiao)

• "Did you know in the Liyuean language, Xiao translates to small?" You didn't say that out loud. Not when he's this angry (this angy)

• He just stands there, crossing his arms and grumbling. You were hesitant to touch him in case he might hiss at you. Xiao has always been short, maybe an inch taller than you, but seeing him like this made you think 'my almighty yaksha can't be this cute♡'

• He gets mad when you no longer call his name for help. How could you? He's just so precious~ Xiao makes it clear that no matter what form he takes, it doesn't make him weak ("Adepti and you mortals are nothing alike." Or so he says but you could tell he wasn't running as fast as he used to because…small legs). You may not comment on it aloud but he can tell just by the look on your face and it irritates him.

• Also the type to not ask for help but worse. Xiao is an agressive little kid, he seems as if he'll be willing to bite someone's finger off if they try to pet him (He gives strong cat vibes, so thats understandable). His spear was too big for him to wield so he often has to put it away or else he might knock someone over with it. Xiao hates being short so you'll be hearing him complain alot.

• Since he was an adepti, he didn't need to sleep however, the curse must have brought down his power by a significant amount to the point you DID catch him napping. You almost swooned out loud just by taking a glance upon his face. For once he didn't wear his signature grumpy look. Xiao appears like a normal child, one full of innocence. His snoring was soft and breathly but that just meant he was deep asleep. (You wished to take a picture). 

• Of course, everything had to come to an end (much to your disappointment), he still complains about the incident to this day.

~~x~~

Zhongli

• How is it possible for a baby to still look so handsome? (Must be his godly abilities)

• Zhongli is unfazed by this 'curse' since his past lives have already taken many forms. Though for some reason whenever he walks down the streets of Liyue, young girls, mothers, ladies all come him was and start complimenting him and gushing over him (he was suffocating). They'd squeeze him tight or squish his cheeks, it only takes once glance before the little girls start blushing and hiding behind their moms.

• Needless to say, despite what form he is in, Zhongli is still able to get free stuff. He got some free candies and some free kites to play with. You had to help him carry his items. Zhongli ends up tripping too much because his tailcoat reached his feet (he decided to just take it off. You had to hold that too). Seems like he can have anyone do things for him in the end HA.

• He still got that drippy voice and you're just like ???? "What on Teyvat Zhongli, you're a kid." This is why you can't see him as one, its nearly impossible.

• Actively avoids Hu Tao and Childe. Once Hu Tao caught sight of him and chased him for hours, he couldn't stay in one spot knowing that she might just pop out of no where. Childe still spoils him, however Zhongli feels irritated by the fact the only things Childe buys him toys (its different when other people do it.)

• Everytime you guys go back strolling through Liyue, you had to hold his hand in case more women come swarming hin again. You swear that at this rate he might get kidnapped because hes just such a beautiful baby.

• Zhongli learned an important lesson after his curse was lifted: no matter how many years he lives throughout  never take a form of a child.

~~x~~

Albedo

• You find him buried beneath a pile of books and had to dig him out before he suffocates.

• Albedo has the cutest eyes, they're big and round full of curiosity and they sparkle too (he has the prettiest eyes out of everyone tbh). He is the only person who is fascinated by this outcome and immediately goes in the wild to test out his new physique. 

• He was always curious why Klee T-poses when she runs so he decided to try it out himself. She was thrilled to find out that she now has a little brother to play with. In the end, Albedo indulges in the games she always wanted to play but couldn't because he was too old: princess dress up tea parties.

• You felt many things when you saw Albedo wearing a frilly gown and a plastic tiara tucked on his head. Deep down you knew regardless of what gender Albedo was still pretty. Klee even had the guts to redo his hair and hardly anyone was able to recognize it was him at all. He has pigtails, PIGTAILS! You made sure to burn that image into the very depths of your mind forever.

• The only advantage was the he was ablw to fit through small spaces, other than that, being small was way too inconvenient. He knocked down a few of his potion bottles which damaged the floor (thankfully not him) because they were lethal (he wonders how Klee was able to not injure herself when using bombs). You carried him and lifted him to alot of places such as trudging through the snow because Albedo would surely fall on his face due to his small form.

• Enough was enough, he only lasted a day with this and decided to just make a potion and put an end to the curse once and for all. 

[ddejavvu]

Knowing a lot of bad shelters believe in the whole get a hybrid fur Christmas thing, but unfortunately the ones who aren’t taken in are usually thrown on the street, or given a more permanent solution.... And at your local one there’s overcrowding. Especially because, as you overhear from the street, two are bonded together, so it’s easier to get rid of the pair, in whatever’s the quickest way...

Needless to say you’re literally lifting puppy Eddie and Steve up on both your hips as you walk them back to your car, head rushingly thinking over everything you’ve gotta do now, as they both happily lick at your face and thank you for not separating them!

This is a couple of weeks before Christmas, and these two are so desperate to work together and get you something. The best gift ever! Unfortunately, they really can’t think of how they’d acquire something that good, and it stresses the poor men out. You’ve already bought them clothes including brand new shoes! Food, food they actually like! Blankets, toothbrushes, everything, and all that before Christmas!! They’re so needy to think of something for you, together

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

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NO BC I WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS!!! ugh my head was just full of hybrid!steddie christmas thoughts and i was like oh shelters probably push hybrids for christmas like people buy pets for christmas and then i was thinking about browsing a shelter to try and help someone out for the holiday season n you see them and you just have to take them home :(( and yes it's even worse bc they're bonded!! anytime anyone tries to separate them they pitch a fit, kicking, screaming, crying, and they'll even get aggressive if people persist, which only makes their chances of adoption worse :(

maybe you were only looking for one hybrid, maybe you weren't looking for any at all!! maybe you'd just passed the shelter and gone in on a whim, just browsing when you see them get condemned :( you panic and it's the only solution you can think of, so now they're yours!! you're filling out all the paperwork and they're just standing there stunned and ecstatic because they have a home now!!! both of them, together, have a home!!! i think if we're going with shelters raising them and training them to be more animal than human in this world, and it's your job to fix that, they definitely have some hyperactivity that they're not bothering to control!! they're big, too, it's not like they're actual dogs and they're somewhat containable, they're grown men who are so overwhelmingly happy that they're trying to jump you at the counter before you can even sign off on the adoption forms 😭

eddie's snuffling into your neck while you're dragging him through the parking lot towards your car and steve's more concerned with trying to crawl under the hem of your sweater!! you're barely able to wrangle them to the car, let alone in the car, and you definitely have to hang out in the backseat with them a bit, let them get their fix of love and pets and scratches and cuddles and kisses before you get on the road 🥹 and when you get home?? instant freakout, they're racing around touching everything and diving headfirst into your bed and flipping through photo albums - they're so happy!!! if you think they'll sleep in their own beds at night.. you are dead wrong. they're curled up happily on either side of you, tails going crazy against the bedsheets so you can barely sleep, but you're not angry 'cause you know they've never felt safe or happy like this before :')

aw no :(( omg!! you're right, they're wracking their brains trying to figure out what to put under the tree for you 'cause you've showed them their own wrapped presents a bunch!! every time you add new ones you go eddie this one's for youuuu or here's one for steve!! and the more the pile grows the guiltier they feel for not having anything nailed down for you yet :(( if you've introduced them to any friends of yours or your parents or something they reach out and ask for help!! they know what they want to get you, they just don't have money to do it :( you're confused when eddie starts mowing your mom's lawn and steve cleans her bathrooms but on christmas morning it all makes sense when they give you their gift :(( it's so sweet and heartfelt you probably cry a bit!! they're worried at first that they made you sad but you assure them they're happy tears and make sure to love on them all morning as a thank you :')