#i got her at the American girl store when I went as a kid because she was pretty lol

[mydollsaregay]

laundry day!

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 1

Chapter one - Apple seed

Story Masterlist

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.8k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"You never understood you're everything to me I just hope you know, the future in your heart Is just about to start"

The universe must be mocking her, (Y/N) is sure of that. This is all one big elaborate joke and any minute now Ashton Kutcher is gonna jump out from behind some bushes and tell her that she has been punkd. 

She had a plan, all neatly laid out and organized. Blue ink on white paper in a fancy leather-bound notebook. Like a professional adult would do it who has their life all figured out. 

Renovate the store and get it back up and running

Sell it for profit 

Pay back Mum and get the fuck away from everyone and everything that has ever made her feel unworthy

That was the plan and she was so fucking determined to stick to it for once in her life. So this must be a prank. This must all be one big misunderstanding.

But it’s not a prank, is it? It’s the consequences of her own damn actions.

Her heart is racing as she climbs the stairs up towards Rebecca Welton’s office. Her legs and feet are heavy, like concrete. Why is being honest with your friends so damn hard? 

It’s not just any friend either. It’s Rebecca. Rebecca who has always been in her life ever since (Y/N) was just a kid. Rebecca who is the only person (Y/N) ever looked up to. Why is being honest with her so terrifying?

You know why! 

Yeah, (Y/N) knows why. Because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if Rebecca hates her for what happened. Of all the people in the world, she needs Rebecca on her side. 

As she lifts her hand and knocks on the door of the office, (Y/N) wonders if this is what death row inmates feel like. Knowing the end is inevitable and it’s all your own fault.

“Come in” 

Taking a deep breath, she opens the door and steps into the room. 3 pairs of eyes look back at her but really, the only ones that matter belong to the beautiful blonde sitting by the desk.

“(Y/N), Hi. What are you doing here? Did we have plans? I thought you went back — “

“Yeah I — no, we didn’t have plans.” 

It almost kills her, that smile that Rebecca sends her way. The one that’s so warm and loving and that’s been a constant in her life for most of her childhood and teenage years coming from Rebecca. Rebecca living in that lovely white house next door with the rose bushes and the big windows. Rebecca who taught her how to do the perfect eyeliner wing, who passed down her coolest leather jacket to her, who held her hair the first time she got wasted and threw up in those very rose bushes. Rebecca who was the older sister she never had. 

She loves that smile it used to bring so much comfort to her. Now it makes her want to die. The girl she used to be, deserved to be on the receiving end of that smile. She doubts she still deserves it.

“Can we—” (Y/N)’s eyes dart around the room towards Higgins, then towards the other man. He’s the American trainer, Ted. She’s talked to him once very briefly and he seems so — nice. Genuinely nice. Not for the sake of being perceived as a good person but because he just is. “— do you think we could talk privately?” 

There’s a flicker of concern in Rebecca’s eyes and (Y/N) hates that she put it there.

“Oh, of course. Ted, Leslie, would you excuse us?” 

Everything’s a blur. They leave and (Y/N) thinks Ted makes some kind of pun but she doesn’t really recognize anything but the racing of her heart and the sour feeling in her stomach. Oh, fuck.

Rebecca sits her down on the big couch by the window, the one that’s meant for personal talks, not business. She’s so nice. Oh, she's too nice.

“Are you dying?” 

“I — uh, no.”

“Okay, good.,” Rebecca says letting out a sigh of relief. “Now that that’s out of the way, can I offer you some tea?”

(Y/N) shakes her head.

“Coffee?” 

She repeats the motion

“Champagne?” Rebecca asks, a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in question.

God, wouldn’t she kill for a glass of bubbly right now. 

“No, I’m good. Can you just come sit down, you’re making me nervous.” 

Not only does she sit down, Rebecca’s hand immediately finds (Y/N)’s, holding on warm and tight. It almost pulls an ironic scoff from (Y/N)’s lips. Mum doesn’t know but even if she did, she’d never offer this kind of comfort to her. She never did. So for a second, she lets herself relish in the affection. Just one second. 

“Okay, now out with it.” 

She’s rehearsed this conversation so many times in so many different ways. Like a school presentation. Meticulously planned. Even added in pauses for questions and shit like that.

All of that has vanished, her brain is empty, her tongue made of lead. 

“I uh — look um. Do you remember when your dad died?” 

Of all the ways she could’ve started this talk, this is probably the worst of them all. Who says things like that?

Rebecca seems a little taken aback for a moment before nodding her head and suppressing a slight smile, one brought on by the absurdity of the question, not by joy. “I do, yes. Hard to forget if I’m being honest.” 

“Yeah, I would know.” 

“Yeah.”

“So that night I was obviously very emotional because it reminded me of my dad and all of that bullshit.” Tears are already threatening to roll down her face, sitting on her waterline waiting for the right moment to strike. It’s impressive she still has any left to cry since that’s all she did the last few days.

“That’s understandable. Oh, please tell me you didn’t force yourself to come and relive all of your pain just because you felt like I expected you there? If I knew it was so hard on you I —” 

This, all of this, is twisting the knife so much deeper. Leave it to Rebecca to search for a fault of hers in all of (Y/N)’s mess.

“No, Rebecca, it's nothing like that. I — I fucked up. I let it all get to me and because I’m, well — me, I got a little tipsy. Went outside to get some air and there was this guy. God, Rebecca, he had the saddest eyes. I just felt this weird connection so I sat next to him. We talked and talked and then ended up going to a bar and then to my place and then to my bed and well yeah.” 

She giggles. Rebecca really has the audacity to giggle at that. In her defense, she tries to hold it in but it does slip out eventually. 

“It’s not funny.”

“Is this why you’re upset? You slept with someone at, no wait, after my father’s funeral. That’s okay.”

“There’s more.” 

"Oh, what is it? Was it a footballer?” 

At the lack of a vocal response, Rebecca connects the dots.

“Alright. That’s — that’s not so bad. I was seeing a 21-year-old footballer. I don’t see what’s making you so upset about this.” 

“I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh shit.” 

Getting Rebecca to swear was always something (Y/N) found a silly sense of pride in. Rebecca with her perfect hair and outfits and manners. It felt like something so alien to her and yet that was (Y/N)’s favorite version of Rebecca. The one that’s as messy as you and me even if it’s just for a second.

“Yeah, shit.” 

It’s the first time she said it out loud. Rebecca is the first person to know, except for (Y/N) herself and her gynecologist. Her mother doesn’t know. 

The father of the baby doesn’t know.

Just her and now Rebecca.

“And I don’t know what to do. This wasn’t the plan. Fuck — please don’t be mad.” 

“Why would I be mad? ” 

There is an infinite warmth in Rebecca’s eyes. A warmth she always longed for coming from her own mother but never received. A warmth that seems entirely misplaced right now. 

“I fucked your employee. I used your dad’s funeral to make the shittiest of all shit decisions and now I come here unloading all of this on you because I, once again, don’t know how to get myself out of the hole I dug.” 

Soft hands wrap around (Y/N)’s shoulder and pull her in. Rebecca smells like expensive perfume and hairspray. All comforting and familiar. It’s nice, (Y/N) thinks, that despite everything falling apart in and around her, there is at least one constant in her life. 

“Were you really afraid of telling me or are you just afraid?” 

She’s so smart and so observant, sometimes it’s infuriating. 

“I’m so scared, Rebecca.”

Life doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It doesn’t ease you into things, slow and gentle. There are no training wheels, no floaties. Life happens whether you’re prepared or not. It’s nice to know that there are arms wide open for you to fall into, a hand to pull you out of the roaring sea as you’re just about to drown.

“You can always unload on me, you know that right? That’s what family is for.” 

All the willpower to stay brave and collected and not cry, all that vanishes with Rebecca’s words. Family. They’re family. Maybe not by blood but definitely by fate. By choice. 

Mum would’ve told her to suck it up, to stop crying, and to face the consequences of her own actions. Would’ve probably had an “I knew this would happen” or an “I told you so” on the tip of her tongue. There is none of that with Rebecca. She just accepts the tears soaking through her, no doubt, expensive blouse and softly strokes (Y/N)’s head. 

For a long time, there are no words exchanged. Some moments ask for calmness not conversation. There’s something deeply therapeutic about crying on the shoulder of someone you deeply trust.

“Can I ask?” Rebecca inquires with a gentle voice just barely louder than a whisper.

She doesn’t have to elaborate. There are only so many questions people have after you told them you had a one-night stand and ended up pregnant. 

“You’re gonna hate the answer.” 

A laugh falls from Rebecca’s lips, her breath tickling the top of (Y/N)’s head. “Don’t tell me It’s Jamie.” 

“Okay, I won’t then.” 

“Oh, (Y/N).” 

Where there should be disappointment in her tone, there is understanding, there is slight amusement but above all, there is deep and honest care. 

“ Can you blame me? Look at him. He’s sculpted by the gods and something about that silly little accent does it for me. I hate to admit it, I truly do.” 

“Does he know?” 

(Y/N) shakes her head, guilt and fear coursing through her veins.

“I don’t even have his number. I know hardly anything about the guy other than that he’s a footballer, that his ego is huge, and that he likes to cuddle after sex.” 

Rebecca’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Does he? Huh.”

“Yeah, it was really cute actually.” 

For a moment she almost gets lost in the memories of that night, however hazy they might be. Jamie was fun and to an extent he understood. And there’s nothing quite as sexy as a man who is just as sad and messed up as you. Is it healthy? Absolutely not but (Y/N) never claimed to have a particularly healthy view on anything. 

“He works here, you know. In this very building. You can just pop down and tell him.” 

The way Rebecca says it makes it sound so easy. Like it doesn’t come with a shit load of guilt and fear and embarrassment. 

“Wait, I didn’t even ask and I just realized that’s very presumptuous and maybe a little rude of me — do you even want to keep the baby?” 

That’s the big one. The question of all questions. It’s the second thought that came to her head when (Y/N) saw the two lines on that fateful plastic stick. The first one being “Oh fuck.” It’s the question her doctor asked. It’s in all of the leaflets and informational reading she’s been handed.

“I’ve never thought about it before. I mean sure I thought about some hypothetical future but those dreams always changed depending on my mood. Now I’m here and I need to make a choice and It’s — It’s terrifying.” 

“But?” 

“But I think I do want it. I think I want to be a — a mother.” 

It’s a word that feels strange on her tongue, bitter and sharp. Like biting down on your cheek and tasting blood. Mother was never the warm comfort of a home. It was the cold hand on her shoulder, the icy glance of disapproval. 

Maybe mother can be something else. Maybe she can turn it into something sweet.

“I’m just scared. This wasn’t the plan, not right now at least, and not like this. I’m scared of doing it alone.”

“What in the world does that mean? Alone?” 

“I don’t expect Jamie to step up. I’d appreciate it, of course. But he has a brilliant career and so much going for him. Getting me, a one-night-stand, pregnant could ruin so much for him. I don’t ever want that.” 

“No,” Rebecca says and cradles (Y/N)’s face between her warm hands “I mean, you’re not going to be alone. No matter what Jamie says. You have me. And I can guarantee you that there are at least 10 other people in this building right now who will also have your back. Whatever happens, I can promise you that you don’t have to do this alone. And don’t sell yourself short, you have a career too!” 

Maybe the universe isn’t mocking her after all. And maybe this isn’t a punishment either. Maybe this is just life pushing her into the deep end. Thank god she has people to help keep her afloat.

(Y/N)’s eyes wander from the clock on the wall towards the door then back. Over and over again.

Every time the door opens and someone leaves the locker room, her heart speeds up. Maybe if she dies of a heart attack right here and now she won’t have to talk to Jamie. That sounds like the most reasonable reaction. Anyone would agree. Right? 

The boys all regard her with a sense of cautious familiarity. They know her face, know they’ve seen her before but can’t recall where much less put a name to her. 

Well, all of them but Sam. He greets her with that big signature smile of his, so full of joy and sunshine. Calls out her name and asks her about her day. Rebecca might have a point that there are more people here that care about her. Their conversation is brief but there is no doubt in her mind that if she were to call him any time of the day, Sam would drop everything and help her out. That’s just the kind of person he is. 

She wonders if that’s the kind of person Jamie is. 

Another glance at the clock. 2 minutes pass. The door opens once more.

Jamie is smiling when he steps into the hallway. His hair is wet, probably from the shower, and held back by that silly little headband of his. He’s wearing a ridiculously bright orange hoodie and obnoxious colorful sneakers. Everyone else would look absolutely ridiculous in this get-up. Jamie makes it work. It must be some kind of superpower. 

Or maybe he’s just so unfairly fit that it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing. Even naked he looks phenomenal.

Stop thinking about him naked, that’s what got you into this mess.

“Oh, hi!” 

He’s so nonchalant, so casual when his eyes meet her’s across the hall. And really, why wouldn’t he be? What they had was casual. A one-night thing, no strings attached. Just two slightly broken people finding solace in each other. That was all it was supposed to be at least.

(Y/N) feels the weight of the secret resting so heavy on her shoulders, she’s sure she’ll collapse underneath it any second now. 

“Jamie, hi. Uh — can we talk?” 

“Sure, ‘bout what? Are you pregnant or something?” 

He says it with a smile, not giving a single thought to the fact that his joke might be no joke at all but the honest to god truth.

(Y/N) on the other hand, feels like someone doused her in ice water, just poured it all over her. Her hands are clammy, breathing shallow, heart racing. Maybe she’ll get that heart attack after all.

When she doesn’t answer, doesn’t laugh, Jamie’s eyes grow wide in return. Though his reputation might make you believe otherwise, he’s quite quick in putting two and two together. At least in this situation. He doesn’t look happy, that much she expected, but he doesn’t look upset either. He just looks shocked. There is nothing but pure disbelief on his face. The cocky smirk has dropped, now his mouth is opening and closing trying to produce words as his head is trying to process the information he just figured out.

“Do you want to go discuss this somewhere more private?” 

Of all the places to tell someone they got you pregnant, the hallway at his workplace might not be the more desirable. 

A pale-faced Jamie nods his head, his eyes distant and glassy. She knows the feeling, has been there just a few days ago. That’s his whole life playing like a movie in his head right there, now with added scenes of a small child with his eyes. Oh god, she hopes the baby gets his eyes.

Jamie drags her into a small room off of the main hallway. Cubicle cupboards line the walls, filled with shoes and boxes. Orange and bright green and yellow. Every possible color of the rainbow, they have a pair of shoes to match in here. The smell though? The smell has her gagging. Sweat and cold cigarette smoke. It’s disgusting. 

“Oh god, Jamie. This is disgusting.” 

“It’s the boot room. ‘s where we keep the boots — and people come here to smoke.” 

“They come here to smoke? On purpose? Like they chose to spend time in here?” 

Jamie absentmindedly nods his head. He’s so pale-looking (Y/N) fears he might just pass out any minute now. 

“Jamie, are you okay? Do you want to sit down?” 

His eyes start to focus again, looking straight at her. He’s terrified and quite honestly, she can’t blame him. Confusion and fear are all she’s felt for the last few days. A bit of excitement too, sure. But mostly the first two.

“Yeah. No. I mean yes. I guess? No. I — fuck.” 

Nervously he combs his fingers through his damp hair as if to calm himself down. Is that something his parents did to him when he was a kid? A motion of comfort? There is so much she doesn’t know about this man. If he decides that he wants to stick around, can this ever work? Can you raise a child with someone you hardly know and not completely fuck them up? 

“Is it mine, then? Are you sure about that?”

“No, I just like going around scaring people into believing they got me pregnant. Yes, Jamie! I am 100% certain.” 

His hands fly up in defense “Jesus, sorry. I don’t know your sexual history. You had sex with me after a funeral, don’t know how much you get around, now do I?” 

She had expected him to ask if it’s his, hell anyone probably would, but there’s something about his tone that is just so off-putting. The accusation that swings along with his words. The judgment. As if he is in any place to talk.

“Oh get off your high horse, dickhead. We both made that decision after the funeral. Didn't hear you complain. And out of the two of us, It’s not me who fucked a girl in a hot tub on national television. Eurgh” 

“You alright?” 

“No, this room is making me gag. I assume this is bad under normal circumstances but this pregnancy situation has my sense of smell going through the roof. This is killing me.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say nothing?! We could’ve gone somewhere else.” 

“I just wanted to — eurgh— I just wanted to get this over with.” 

“Let me get you out of —” 

“No, let me just say this real quick and then I’m off.” 

She’s prepared this speech a million and one times in a million and one ways. It always worked out fine but then again, her audience was just her cat and the mirror. Having Jamie look at her, a mix of concern and shock still on his face, that’s a whole different story.

“I am having this baby and I would like for you to be a part of their life, but I accept if you say no. Just know that whatever you decide, that’s final. I can’t have you running off and then coming back in a few years regretting your decision and wanting to be a parent after all. And I most definitely will not allow you to say you’re in and then give up on the baby halfway through. I had a parent like that, I will not have my child go through the same thing. I don’t need your decision now just — make up your mind and make sure you’re 100% certain. Here uh— “

Trying to hold her breath so as to not breathe in any more of the foul smell, (Y/N) rummages through her purse before pulling out a small piece of paper.

“They don’t usually do ultrasounds that early but I made friends with the nurse as I was waiting and they allowed me to get one and see the baby. Don’t really see shit on here if I’m being honest but apparently that blob is our child.” 

Jamie takes the picture, his eyes moving between the image and back to her, down to her stomach then back to the picture. It’s like his head and his eyes are trying to cope with the fact that there is a real baby growing inside her. His baby.

“I just thought you might want to have this, if not just throw it away. I’m not trying to manipulate or guilt you into anything. Let me know when you’ve made a decision. You know where I live and Rebecca has my number just ask her for it — I gotta get out of here. Eurgh.” 

And while an overwhelmed Jamie sinks to the floor of the boot room, ultrasound picture clutched in one hand while the other nervously combs through his hair, (Y/N) throws up in the bin by the front door. 

There are 3 things (Y/N) knows for certain. One of them is that Michelle Pfeiffer as Stephanie Zinone in Grease 2 is the coolest person in the world. The second one is that decaf coffee kinda sucks. And 3 is that whoever is knocking on her door at 9:15 tonight, disrupting her rewatch of Grease 2 better has a good reason to do so if they want to keep their head attached to their body.

Slowly she’s dragging herself towards the door. Today was exhaustion enough both physically and mentally, she really doesn’t need the stress of an unannounced visitor. Not when she’s dressed in an old, oversized Hardrock Cafe shirt, bike shorts, and those ridiculous yellow slippers she got on her last trip to Disney that look like Minnie Mouse’s shoes.

“I’m coming, Jesus — “ 

“I don’t know shit about babies.” 

Jamie looks different as he stands before her on her front steps, hair messy and flat against his head, wearing a big grey sweater. Gone is all the charming confidence and the mischievous smirks. He’s all sad eyes and shy smiles. He reminds (Y/N) of a sad, beaten puppy. She almost feels bad for him. Almost. That’s until the words that just fell from his lips really register in her mind.

“You could’ve just texted me you’re not interested. Didn��t have to come here, really.” 

“What? No, I am! “

“You just said —” 

“I said I don’t know shit about babies. Cause I don’t. But I’m not gonna run off.”

“You won’t?”

Jamie has never looked so genuine, so serious as in that moment and it sends a weird feeling through (Y/N). She didn’t have any expectations in him. You can’t really have those if you don’t even know the person. Sure, she hoped he would take interest in her and the baby but things truly could’ve gone either way. To hear him say that he wants to step up and be there, that’s a feeling she can’t really put into words.

“Can we uh — can I come in? Your neighbor is staring at me.” 

(Y/N) opens the door to let Jamie pass before leaning outside and facing the house next door. Sure enough, old Mrs. Hartley is standing by her window, eyes trained on (Y/N)’s front door. Jesus fucking Christ, do these people not have their own lives? 

The small pink couch looks even smaller with Jamie’s broad frame perched in the corner. He’s holding onto the fluffy white pillow as if he needs some kind of buoy to keep him afloat.

“Do you want tea or something?” 

“Do you have beer?” 

She only raises an eyebrow in response and points to her stomach. 

“Right. Pregnant. Forgot about that for a second, sorry. “

Oh, the privilege of getting to forget about that. 

“I have water, ginger ale, and apple juice.” 

Jamie screws his face in repulsion. If there is one thing she’s learned about Jamie Tartt in the limited time they’ve spent together, it’s that his emotions are always so clearly reflected on his face. She’s not sure he knows exactly how expressive he really is.

“I’m good. Here, I actually brought you some stuff.” 

As she sits down on the couch next to him, Jamie holds out a Tesco bag to her filled to the brim with stuff. 

“What’s all this?” 

He looks bashful, almost shy as he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“Just some stuff for your nausea. Google said anything ginger helps so I got these lollies. Also sour candy and crackers. Not sure if it works but I felt so bad seeing you earlier and knowing it's kinda my fault, innit?."

It's such a sweet sentiment that (Y/N) can feel the tears gathering on her waterline. Maybe Jamie is the kind of person she can call when in need. Maybe he can become that person.

"That's very sweet Jamie, oh there's more."

It's a small box with two even smaller socks, so tiny it almost seems impossible that a human being can have such small feet. 

"Saw them and couldn't stop thinking about how cute they were and then I couldn’t stop imagining our baby being so tiny and wearing them and, yeah.” 

“They’re adorable, Jamie. Thank you.” 

His words wrap around her heart like vines. Taking root. Blooming. 

“Our baby”. The thought of having a baby is still so foreign to her. Her own baby, her child. Hearing Jamie call it theirs sends a flutter of feelings through her. Their baby. Part her and part Jamie.

“So what I meant earlier is that I don’t know shit about babies. None of my friends have babies, I have no siblings and all my cousins are around my age so I never really had experience with babies. I know they’re cute and I know they poop a lot. “

“They are pretty cute.”

“Yeah, and our baby?” he says and motions between the two of them “‘s gonna be the cutest fucking baby of all time. It’s genetics.”

The matter-of-fact tone in which he says it pulls a laugh from (Y/N). He does have a point though.

“I am not going to lie, I'm extremely unprepared for this. For being a — a dad.” 

There’s a bitterness there, a heaviness. Maybe Dad is as sharp and as cutting a concept to Jamie as Mum is to (Y/N). 

“Don’t have a dad. Well, I do but he’s right asshole, isn’t he. So I got no idea how to be good at this, had no one to show me. I’ll try though. I want to be different. I need to be. Promised myself when I was a kid that I was not going to be like him, ever.”

“I understand that, trust me Jamie I really do. But I need you to be sure that you want that. I don’t want you to stay around because of some misplaced sense of duty. I want you to want this.” 

"Didn't think I did. When you told me and you gave me an out I wanted to take it. But then I kept looking at that picture, can’t make out anything on it by the way but that doesn’t matter, I kept looking at it and that part of me. That's my baby and I couldn't live with meself if I gave up on it. On you. A lot of people have given up on me in my life and I resent them for it. I can't be the one giving up now, can I? I'm better than that."

She doesn't even realize the tears have found their way out until Jamie's face fills with concern. "Oh no, I didn't mean to make you cry or nothing."

"They're happy tears, I think. I'm really scared, Jamie. Knowing that I don't have to do this all by myself, that helps a bit."

"I promise I'll try to be the best at this. I'll even rub your feet if they're hurting and I fucking hate feet."

Leave it to Jamie to put the humor back into even the most serious and tense of conversations.

"You don't have to rub my feet, that's okay. I do think we should get to know each other better though, now that we're gonna be raising a child together. I know hardly anything about you."

"Uh, you know plenty about me. You know I'm fit, obviously. You know I have great hair. I'm good at football, fucking ace actually. Also sexually."

That little shit has the audacity to wink. it should be annoying. It's weirdly charming though.

"And now you also know that I'm gonna try my best to be good at this. Hey, when the baby is here can I get one of them kangaroo pouch thingies and take them to training with me?"

"Kangaroo pouch? You mean a baby carrier?"

"Yes, that! Strap it to my chest while I do my warm-up."

"You are not taking our baby to training with you, are you insane?"

"I'm joking, Jesus. Would look fucking cool though, maybe get us matching sunglasses. Hats too. Baby icon."

"Oh my god, you know what, maybe this is a bad idea after all."

But it's not, she doesn't mean that. Jamie knows it and (Y/N) knows that he knows. For the first time since those two lines appeared, it feels like she can breathe easy again if even just for a moment. Things will be hard, no doubt but at least she can share it with someone. And it's just an added bonus that someone never fails to put a smile on her face.

"What are you watching there anyway?" Jamie asks, nodding his head towards the tv.

"Grease 2."

"They made a second one? Is it good?"

"No, it's terrible. I love it."

"See," Jamie chimes up, a small genuine smile.on his lips "learned something new about you. The mother of my child loves bad movies. This getting to know each other plan is going so well already."

And while it is a joke, there's also a flicker of truth to it. It's the little things that make us who we are. Like our love for bad movies or our desire to be better than our parents before us.

"Do you wanna stay and watch it with me?"

"Can we start from the beginning?"

"Obviously"

"Then yes! Give me one of them ginger lollies please."

They spent the next few hours watching Grease 2 followed by the first because - well it's just right to watch them both, really. It doesn't feel forced or awkward. This is not two strangers trying to bond for the sake of their child. This is a genuine friendship in the making. It feels wonderful. They exchange numbers, birthdays, favorite colors. It’s all very superficial information but it’s a start and it’s easy. This whole situation is hard enough, sometimes easy is just what you need.

The clock says 12:03 when Jamie decides it's time to go home. 

Just as he is about to leave, one foot already out the door, he turns back with curious eyes.

"Do you know how big the baby is?"

"Uh, no. Pretty tiny I think."

"They didn't tell you what fruit size?"

"Fruit size?"

"Yeah like, it's as big as a strawberry now or something."

(Y/N) shakes her head in response "I think they mostly do that in American movies."

Jamie looks deflated for a fracture of a second before he lightens up again and one of those rare smiles takes over his face. The one that makes him look so boyish and excitable. Like a fucking golden retriever.

"That's okay. I'll find out."

"You do that. Let me know what you find. Have a good night Jamie."

"You too!" Then his eyes move to her stomach "And you too baby."

God, he can be so adorable it's absolutely sickening.

As she lays in bed, (Y/N) thinks back to just the night before. To the anxiety and the fear. To all the what-ifs that ghosted through her head. That seems like a whole lifetime ago and even though a lot of those fears are still present, they get overshadowed tonight. By the knowledge that she's not alone. And by the absolute sunshine that is Jamie Tartt. 

Just before she closes her eyes, her phone dings with a notification. 

Her hand comes to rest gently on her stomach. There’s no change there yet, absolutely no sign of a baby growing in there at this very moment. And yet she knows and that makes all the difference. 

In a voice, soft like silk, she whispers “Daddy says goodnight”. It’s cheesy, outright sickening but in the dark of the night, who is there to judge her for it? Sometimes you have to let yourself be ridiculous and cringy if your heart demands it.

That night she doesn't fall asleep to fear and anxiety. That night she falls asleep with a smile on her face. 

[dannystheone]

I'd like to see more lee!Butters because he's too cute. Maybe the boys are having a sleepover and someone suggests playing Truth or Dare. When Butters' turn comes up he chooses "truth" and gets asked if he's ticklish.

YES THIS!! Anon I could kiss you on your forehead

So I've had this idea for a little while now, but I wasn't sure how to piece it all together. The power of my two brain cells finally worked so I combined your request with my idea! This is gonna be a hefty one!

Also you guys are AMAZING!! You blew up my inbox with your incredible ideas thank you all! You're definitely not sick of SP content which is AWESOME!!

I hope you guys like this! also if you don't know what Charlie Charlie is, it's an American game where you put two pencils stacked on top of each other on a piece of paper with a yes/no grid on the paper and ask if Charlie is there, and if the pencil swivels to yes, then you can ask Charlie yes/no questions. I used to play in middle school lol

WARNINGS: Feet tickles, Horror descriptions, Kids swearing! They are nine in this

Reveal Who You Are, Marjorine! (Lee Marjorine/Multiple Lers)

Marjorine comes back to a second girl's sleepover to uncover the girl's secondary method of fortune-telling. But with Marjorine being gone in between sleepovers and showing up out of seemingly thin air, the girls become suspicious of her.

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"Khhh- Marjorine- Come in Marjorine-" Eric Cartman peeked through a set of bushes with binoculars held up to his eyes with a radio in his hand. He scanned the area of Wendy Testaburger's house with that of an experienced lookout.

"I'm here, Eric. I'm walking up to their front door as we speak." Marjorine's voice crackled through the dollar-store radio. Stan and Kyle leaned in to hear what Marjorine had to say.

Cartman held the radio up to his lips to reply as he watched Marjorine walk up the steps to Wendy's door. "Okay, remember. Get the paper and the pencils they used and do not separate them. We don't know how the magic works until we investigate it. You got that?" Cartman asked.

Tweek winked behind a bush as he kept a lookout for Cartman while he spoke on the radio. Craig picked a leaf off the bush and spun it between his fingers when they heard Marjorine speak again.

"I'll get it done. Over and out." Marjorine clicked off the radio as the boys gathered in a circle behind the cover of bushes.

"How the hell is Marjorine gonna hide that radio wearing that thin dress?" Kyle asked thoughtfully. Cartman clapped him on the back and shook his shoulder gently.

"That, frankly, is not my problem, Kahl. Getting the truth behind this fortune telling is." Cartman brought the boys in close in a hushed huddle.

"Alright gentlemen, this is go-time. Stan, Kyle, and Kenny, we are going in as Team Alpha. We're gonna stay behind the cover of bushes and keep a steady communication with Team Bravo as they report to us what's going on behind enemy lines. We'll also be on the lookout for possible parents, as we have a broader look at the house from this far away." Cartman explained, the boys nodding as he went along.

"Clyde, Tolkien, Tweek, and Craig, you'll be our recon team. You'll be reporting everything that goes on from the basement window. When Marjorine successfully steals the Charlie Charlie device, you will relay to us over the radio "Fags in the bush- I repeat- Fags in the bush." Craig was listening intently to Cartman's instructions, but threw up an eyebrow at that last part.

"Why does that have to be what we say when Marjorine gets the device?" Craig asked. Cartman gave Craig a look to ask if he was serious or not.

"Because Craig, okay? It's just what you have to say. It's all military terms, I swear. Now remember, Marjorine is wired. We'll be listening in on their conversations, we won't be going in blind like last time." Tweek pulled on his shirt as he winked in anxiety.

"Being on recon! ACK! That-That sounds like too much pressure!" Craig held Tweek's shoulder as a noise sounded from behind them. The boys scuttled behind the bushes as Cartman brought his binoculars up to his eye. Marjorine was being allowed into Wendy's house.

"Alright, we're in."

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"Oh Marjorine, hi! We thought you moved away?" Red answered Wendy's door and greeted Marjorine. Marjorine straightened out one of her braids out of nervousness and nodded.

"Oh uh, we- I did move away! But...I'm back now! I moved to Western...Burg...Townville." Marjorine stuttered as Red blinked at her.

"Well uh, welcome back! Let me run ahead and tell the girls that you made it." Red left Marjorine at the door while she ran down to the basement quickly. Marjorine tentatively walked into Wendy's home and slowly walked over to the basement door without seeing Wendy's parents anywhere. Maybe they went to sleep already?

Marjorine picked up the microphone on the wire underneath her dress and spoke into it. "Cartman, I'm in Wendy's living room. No sign of cult activity or nothin'. I'm going into the basement." Marjorine walked down the steps of the basement, the girls all speaking in hushed tones. They looked up at Marjorine's arrival.

"Oh Marjorine, you're back!" Wendy said with a wide smile. All the girls stood up, greeting and welcoming Marjorine. Marjorine smiled nervously as she waved to the girls.

"Oh uh, hiya girls! I didn't think you'd realize I was gone!" Marjorine said honestly. The girls led her into the blankets and pillows they had set up on the basement floor. Marjorine sat down in a fluff of plushies.

"Well of course we would! Red was just telling us about how you moved back to South Park." Heidi said. Marjorine fidgeted with her hands as she swallowed. She could feel the wire taped to her chest coil against her.

"Oh uh, yes! I-I moved back to South Park from WesternBurg...Town...ville." Marjorine cleared her throat.

"Oh WesternBurgTownVille, my aunt lives there." A girl called out from the back.

"Well, great that you're back! We haven't started any activities yet, is there anything you wanted to do?" Wendy asked gently. Marjorine opened her mouth to speak, but other girls piped up before she could answer.

"Oh let's sing karaoke!"

"No, no, let's braid each other's hair!"

"We can talk about boys!"

"We can play Charlie Charlie?" Marjorine asked meekly. The whole operation of her infiltrating the girl's sleepover for the second time hung in the open air.

It was silent for one second too long.

"Mmm, it's a little too early for that. That's more of like a midnight thing, so it's scarier!" Nichole said enthusiastically. The other girls at the party agreed with her in earnest. Marjorine huffed an inward sigh as her idea was dismissed.

Wendy sunk into her pillow pile as she got an idea. "Oh I know! We can watch Disney movies! My parents have all the princess ones on tape. Do you wanna pick one out Marjorine?" Wendy asked. Other girls bumped their opinions into what was supposed to be Marjorine's choice. Again.

"Oh put on Princess and the Frog, they have the best songs!"

"No Moana does!"

Wendy reached behind her and started flipping through a CD book with all the princess movies available. The girls at the sleepover crowded Wendy as they tried to see what she had.

"Oh choose Sleeping Beauty, she looks like me!" Bebe said with a flip of her hair.

"Oh you gotta choose Cinderella, she's the prettiest!" Marjorine said, pointing to Cinderella's DVD. Wendy looked up to Marjorine with a smile, but noted something odd. Her smile faltered on her face a little. Upon being so close to Marjorine's face, she noticed a scar she hadn't seen before over her left eye. That was strange. Where had she seen a scar like that before...

"...Sure! Cinderella it is." Wendy selected the DVD from the plastic sleeve and slipped it into her console. Heidi helped out and flipped on the TV; Cinderella's storybook appeared on the screen. Marjorine took a seat in front of the TV and started watching happily. The girls behind her discussed something too quiet for Marjorine to hear.

"Hey girls! You watching? Cinderella's about to move in with her bitch stepsisters!" Marjorine said with a wide smile. The girls all loomed up behind Marjorine now that they had come to a consensus from their hidden conversation. "Now Drizzella's nose is too big for me, and Anastasia's chin is ugly, but-but I think if I put bags over their heads it would make me like them better." Marjorine fidgeted with the ears on her bunny slippers as the girls looked at each other confused.

"Marjorine, are you lesbian?" A girl asked.

"Yeah, why are you talking about the stepsisters like that?" Nichole asked. Marjorine's eyes widened as she stood up quickly and started shaking her hands.

"N-No no! I-I meant I was talking like I was a boy who felt that way about them! N-Not me! At all! I'm totally straight! I like...hopping on boys' weiners!" Marjorine said hurriedly.

"Ew..." One girl spoke out. The girls looked at each other, gauging her response in their heads. Marjorine gulped as she tugged on her braids.

"Well, I had an idea," Wendy spoke up after a long moment of silence. Marjorine put a hand to her chest as she breathed out. That was close.

"While that's playing in the background, why don't we play truth or dare?" Wendy suggested. The girls started giggling and agreed to play loudly.

"Oh that's a good idea, Wendy!" Heidi said with a smile.

"Okay! Let's all get into a circle. Marjorine, have you played truth or dare before?" Wendy asked while the girls organized into a circle. Marjorine shook her head, causing her braids to fly around.

"Well, I haven't! I know a lot of my friends have though!" Marjorine sat next to Red and Heidi in the circle.

"Well Marjorine, truth or dare is really easy," Nichole explained. "We go around the circle and ask each other Truth or Dare? If you choose Truth then we ask you a question, and you have to be 100 percent honest. If we ask you Dare, then we give you a dare and you have to perform it right then and there." Marjorine's eyes lit up at the idea.

"Oh boy! That sounds like a lot of fun!" Marjorine's smile grew as the other girls nodded.

"Yeah, it is a lot of fun! Okay, who should be first?" A girl asked from the crowd.

"Well it's Wendy's sleepover, I think she should be asked the first question," Red suggested. Wendy rolled her eyes with a smile as she settled into the pillows.

"Oh okay, go ahead..." She relented. The girls leaned in close as Red sat on her calves.

"Okay Wendy, truth or dare?" Red asked. Wendy thought for a moment.

"Mmm...truth." She answered.

"Ooooh snap! Oh, oh she picked truth!" Marjorine said excitedly. The girls gave her a side glance as Red continued.

"Hmm...Oh, I got one. If Stan were to propose to you right at this moment, would you say yes?" Red asked with a glint in her eye.

"Oooooooo!" All the girls at the sleepover giggled and hushed each other as Wendy shook her head.

"Of course not! I'm only nine years old, that would be crazy!" Wendy replied. The girls collectively went "Aww-" and started chatting to each other.

"Oh, Wendy that's a boring answer! I thought you really liked Stan!" Bebe called out. Wendy put her hands on her knees as she blushed slightly.

"I do, but not enough to marry him right at this moment! I don't know anyone I'd marry right at this moment!" She defended.

"Alright, alright, alright. Wendy, since Red asked you a truth-or-dare question, you get to ask Red a truth-or-dare question." Heidi said. Wendy's face cooled as she gathered her hair from her shoulders and slipped it behind her back. She faced Red on the blankets.

"Okay Red, truth or dare?" Wendy asked. Red had a challenging smile on her face.

"I'll go dare." She said confidently. The girls of the sleepover "oooo'ed" collectively. The sleepover seemed to hold its breath while Wendy thought up a dare.

"Ohhh, she's in for it now! Get her good Wendy!" Marjorine called out. The girls glanced at Marjorine as they set their gaze back on Wendy.

"Okay. Red, text your crush and tell him you like him." Wendy said as she folded her arms over her chest. The girls all giggled and squealed as Red's cheeks blushed. She slowly pulled out her phone and started to text.

"Hey, I need to see the text to know you're telling the truth, Red!" Wendy pointed. Red's blush deepened as she held up her phone.

"I am, I'm really texting him!" She cried. The girls clamored over each other trying to see Red's text, but she kept her phone hidden to her chest.

After a few moments, a 'whoosh' sound was heard as she sent her message. "Okay...I sent it." Red said with burning cheeks. Heidi and Nichole giggled at her sides as they started teasing her.

"Aww, you're so red, Red!~ You really like him, huh? Who was it?" They asked. She pushed them away lightly as she fanned her face.

"Oh stop it! I'm not telling you!" Red's face burned as the girls giggled.

"Okay, who's next?" Bebe asked.

"Mmm, let's do Marjorine!" Nichole suggested. Marjorine perked up with a hand to her chest.

"Who, me?" Marjorine felt small as all the eyes of the sleepover were on her suddenly.

"Yeah, it'll be fun! Here, I'll ask you." Nichole turned to Marjorine as Marjorine started shuffling her hands.

"Marjorine, truth or dare?" Nichole asked. Marjorine pulled on one of her braids as she thought for a moment.

"U-Umm...truth!" She called out. Nichole smiled at her response as the other girls of the sleepover started to whisper and chatter excitedly.

"Okay. Are you ticklish?" Nichole asked straightforwardly. Marjorine's heart beat as the sleepover waited for her response. She wasn't expecting a question like that at all.

"Oh jeez...um...yes?" Marjorine's body suddenly felt light and tingly from the question. Nichole seemed pleased with this answer.

"Oh cool! Where?" Heidi asked behind Nichole. Marjorine swallowed as she pointed to Heidi.

"I-I have to answer that too?" She asked. Nichole and Heidi exchanged a glance before Nichole nodded.

"Y-Yeah, any question asked during your turn, you have to answer it completely honestly," Nichole explained. The girls at the sleepover nodded in agreeance. Marjorine fidgeted with her hands as her cheeks burned.

"Oh hamburgers...um...everywhere, I guess? I can't really...think of anywhere that doesn't tickle." Marjorine could feel her ears burn. This was embarrassing. The girls grew quiet as they silently agreed on what was next to come in the activities list of the girl's sleepover.

"Hey, Marjorine. How would you feel to be officially part of the girls?" Red asked. Marjorine's face softened at the question.

"R-Really? You mean it? How?" Red had a small grin on her face as the girls parted to two sides, and left a space in the middle of the blanket pile on the floor.

"Well, we have this thing. It's called initiation. You go through this initiation, and if we think you're worthy, we'll turn you into one of the girls. You're automatically invited to all the sleepovers and eating lunch with us at school! How does that sound?" Red explained. Marjorine grew excited as she nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh boy! That sounds great! When can we do it?" Bebe pointed to the middle of the blanket pile with a feline grin on her face.

"Just come lay down right here and we can get started." Marjorine shuffled to the middle of the blankets as she was told and laid on her back. The wires hooked up to her chest shifted as she laid her head on one of the nearby plushies.

All the girls at the sleepover huddled close all around Marjorine's body. Marjorine held her hands over her chest as she looked up to everyone's eyes on her at once. Her slippers rubbed up against each other nervously.

"What do I have to do? Are we gonna lezz out?" Bebe and Wendy looked at each other before looking down at Marjorine.

"No Marjorine, we're not lezzing out. You just have to lay here and last for however long you can, and we'll go ahead and see if you're worthy enough to join us. When you're ready for it to stop, just say 'Uncle'." Bebe explained. Marjorine nodded, her anxiety leaving her chest with this answer.

"Oh goody, okay, that sounds nice- Wait. Last for what?" Marjorine's gaze whipped from side to side as the girls started shuffling closer to her and closing her in on all sides of her body. Marjorine hugged herself as she felt her cheeks flush.

"Okay girls, you ready?" Wendy asked them. Marjorine's eyes widened as the girls picked up their hands and started wiggling their fingers on all sides of her.

"Last for what?! What is this?! Oh Christmas!" Marjorine cried. Nichole set her phone to the side as she cracked her knuckles.

"Okay, the timer is set! Girls, dig in!" All the girls at the sleepover dove their fingers into Marjorine's body at once.

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"Cartman, come in Cartman. We have a situation here." Craig called in over the radio. Cartman shuffled behind the bushes as he answered.

"Go for Cartman. What's the situation?" He answered. Craig winced at what he witnessed through the basement window and clicked the radio.

"The girls started attacking Marjorine, they're all on her at once! If they find that wire on her body, we're done for." Craig relayed back. Cartman's eyes widened as Kyle and Stan looked at the radio concerned.

"Craig, what do you mean attacking? Are they boxing? Lezzing out? What is it?!" Cartman demanded. Tweek winked and looked away from the visceral scene. Tolkien and Clyde held their faces in horror at the decimation.

Craig swallowed his horror as he held a shaky hand up to his face holding the radio. He couldn't look away from the scene before him. It was like watching a car crash.

"...You'll just have to see for yourself! No way in hell can I describe what's happening." Craig admitted. Team Bravo turned from the scene to find Cartman running low over to the window. He shuffled over and peeked inside the basement window. His eyes widened at the stomach-dropping horror below them. All fingers were on Marjorine at once. There must have been hundreds, maybe thousands. It was a damn buffet. It was like something out of a zombie horror movie.

"FUCK! FUCK! GOD- THAT'S DISGUSTING!" Cartman held his stomach and shuddered as he spun around from the scene. Kyle, Stan, and Kenny ran over with their heads ducked to avoid possible detection.

"It's blown! It's blown- the whole fucking thing is blown!" Cartman yelled out angrily. The rest of the guys reached the group near the window.

"What the hell is wrong Cartman? What's the matter with Marjorine?" Stan asked. Cartman shook his head as he held his hands on his knees. He looked like he was about to throw up.

"You'll have to go see for yourself." He said in a hushed tone. Stan, Kyle, and Kenny walked over to the window slowly, as if they were about to witness a dead body firsthand.

All the girls at the sleepover had Marjorine in the middle of a circle, with all of their hands tickling her at once. Her slippers were discarded, and she had about two or three girls down by her feet and calves just for that area. Every spot on her body had at least two to four girls on it at the same time, tickling.

Her arms were free, but no matter where she tried to shield herself, there were more hands that would tickle the free areas she couldn't protect. Wiggling fingers dove into her tummy and sides, they squished in her thighs and vibrated in her ribs. Fingers wiggled in between her toes and scribbled on her neck. She squirmed and writhed and belted out as much laughter as her tiny body could permit. Girls that the boys knew personally looked completely different; with hungry twisted looks on their faces as they dove in for more and more.

Kyle turned from the scene with his hands on the sides of his head. "No no no NO NO NO! NO! NO! AAAHH!" Kyle's mind broke from the absolutely visceral scene. Kenny held his hands up to the glass with shaking hands as he saw what Marjorine was subjected to. Stan turned to Kenny and tried to rip him away.

"Kenny, Kenny come on! You can't save her!" Stan shouted. Kenny shook his head and tried to push on the glass. The boys turned at the sound of the glass pushing inward, a rusty squeaking sound.

"I HAMPH TO SAMPH HERM! MMPH!" Kenny bumped his shoulder into the glass, a harsher sound scraping against the rust. Some of the girls tickling halted from inside the basement as they heard this sound.

"Kenny you're gonna get us found out! Stop that!" Stan and Craig started dragging Kenny away from the glass. Kenny twisted and tried crawling back to the glass to try and save Marjorine in any way he could. More boys started to help; Clyde and Tolkien took hold of his legs as they all ran over to the other side of the street with the rest of the boys.

They laid Kenny down gently in the snow as Kenny held his face in his hands.

"That was probably...the most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life," Clyde admitted. Tolkien swallowed at the thought of so many fingers when he replayed the scene in his head. Cartman started pacing as he thought of what their next move was gonna be.

"You don't want to hear the audio. It's nasty." Craig stated. The boys collectively shuddered at just the thought of what a man being eaten alive could sound like.

"Alright, alright. We got a man in there, and he could be found out at any moment. He's got that wire strapped to his chest, and that radio still on him. I say we bail." Cartman suggested. The boys looked up at him in horror.

"You're a fucking coward, Cartman!" Craig pointed. Cartman marched up to Craig's face and stuck a finger in his chest.

"Oh yeah Craig, 'cause you're so fucking tough?! Then you go in there and drag him out yourself! And then all those hungry fingers will dig into YOU, instead! How about that?!" Cartman shouted. Tweek pushed Cartman back as he held Craig's shoulder.

"You get the fuck back from him, man!" Tweek shouted and winked an eye. Cartman burned as Stan broke the two apart with his body.

"Everybody relax! We need to keep calm! We got a man in the middle of a fucking situation, we got a heartbroken Kenny and a shell-shocked Kyle!" Stan recounted. Everyone looked back to see Kenny with his hand over his heart and Kyle rocking back and forth to soothe himself.

"So what do you suggest we do, Stan? We only have three options. Either we stay and wait it out and see if he survives, we go in and rescue him somehow, or we bail and leave him to die. Either way, we're all gonna have to come to a decision." Tolkien said. The boys turned grim at their options. It all seemed hopeless.

"Who would go in to rescue him? I mean we're all...sensitive." Clyde said with burning cheeks. The boys shuffled uncomfortably at the thought of going in and rescuing Marjorine just to be the one caught in the middle of all that mess.

"Alright alright. So whoever goes in there needs to be the least ticklish one of all of us in case we get caught. Which one of us do you think that would be?" Stan asked. The boys grew silent. They turned their gaze to the ground and kicked little rocks around.

"No one? No one at all? Even you, Cartman?" Stan asked. Cartman put his hands up as if he wasn't touching that with a 20-foot pole.

"Neeeeope, no, no, no, I'm good on that one. No matter how buff I am, I can't take those chances. What about you Stan, since you want to single people out?" Cartman asked. The boys watched as Stan blushed and looked to the floor.

"Well I can't go in, they'll tear me apart. Besides, Wendy is in there. If she sees me laughing, she'll think I'm a dork." He admitted. Craig sighed as he absent-mindedly put his arm around Tweek's shoulders.

"Then we'll have to sit and wait it out. Pray to God he survives that carnage."

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"BWAHAHAHA!! G-GIHIHIHIRLS WAHAHAIT!!" Marjorine all but screamed out her laughter as she turned just about everywhere to escape the wriggling fingers. They were on all sides of her, relentless and scribbling into her body.

This has been going on for about five minutes now, and Marjorine was already at her wit's end. To be honest, she forgot what the password was to make the tickling stop. Maybe she should have clarified before they began, but the girls were eager to dive in and start.

Wendy kept her tickling light as her friends raced their fingers across Marjorine's skin. Her sheer pajama dress didn't help to protect her in any way. Fingers pinched, sharp manicured nails scribbled, they teased and flitted their hands over her tickle spots before they dove in. This was a level of method Marjorine had never experienced. The boys tickling her felt like caveman tactics compared to these precise techniques.

"So Marjorine, I have a question for you. You said you moved back to South Park from where exactly?" Wendy asked with a suspicious edge to her voice. She didn't believe that Marjorine was who she said she was at all.

Marjorine tried getting enough breath into her chest before answering. This was certainly a workout. "I- hehehehhee! I'm- I'm frohohohom Wehehehestern- TOHOHOHOWNBUHURG-WAHAHAIT!! NOHOHO NO NO!!" Marjorine squealed as her arm was pulled away from her side and manicured nails spidered in her armpit.

"Aww, her skin is so soft! Marjorine, can you give me the link to what lotion you use?" Bebe said with a smile as she kept up a bad routine of dragging her nails up the length of Marjorine's armpit and set it back down to the base just to drag her nails up slowly once more. It was horribly effective against Marjorine.

"Hmm, Marjorine, I thought you said you were from WesternBurgTownVille? But that's weird, what you said wasn't even close to where you said you're from." Wendy suspected. Heidi scribbled her fingers over Marjorine's sides as she smiled down at her.

"Aww, is she overwhelmed? Are the tickles too much for her? The itty bitty little ticklies too much for Marjorine?~" A girl called out next to Heidi. The girls all giggled as they started cooing at Marjorine. Wendy stayed out of it.

"YEHEHESS THEHEHEY AHAHAHARE!! IT TIHIHIHICKLES!" Marjorine yelled out with pink cheeks.

"Awwwww!" The girls sighed. Their polished pink and purple glittery nails were weapons of mass destruction as they scritched and spidered over Marjorine's skin. No spot was left untouched as fingers dove into her toe spaces and hands fluttered over her ears.

She's so adorable!" Nichole gushed. She used Marjorine's own blonde braids to fluff and feather over Marjorine's ears and neck. Marjorine squeaked and laughed lightly with squinting eyes.

"So Marjorine, do you wanna tell us where you're actually from? Did you even move away from South Park at all?" Wendy questioned. Marjorine cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her mind. She couldn't be found out and fail the mission. The boys were dependent on that fortune-telling device.

"Hehehehee- Hehehehee!! Yehehehes I dihihihihihihid!! I sahahahaha-!! I saHAHAHAhaid WehesternBuhurgTohohownVille!!" Marjorine laughed out. That took amounts of willpower Marjorine never knew she had. She squeaked as Bebe's nails found their way from her armpit and drug all the way down to the palms of her hands. Marjorine's arm twitched as her hand was held down and nails fluttered from the heel of her hand to the tips of her fingers.

"Aww, she has ticklish hands! She's the cutest!" Bebe giggled. The girls agreed as Heidi squished into the divet of her side, Nichole brushed over her ears with her braids, Bebe dusted over her hands and armpits, and Red tickled over her bare thighs. The rest of the girls at the sleepover tickled wherever they could reach, clamoring for a spot.

"Plehehehease fehehellas- I- I mehehehean lahahahadies!! Mehehercy!!" These slip-ups were gonna start costing Marjorine. Wendy was already extremely suspicious of her, as were most of the other girls. If it weren't for this tickling episode making everything light, the room would have a tense atmosphere.

Wendy tried a different approach. Her suspicion grew as a few dots connected in her mind when she thought about everyone in her class and who was missing.

"So Marjorine, you know that one kid Butters? I think he's kinda lame, but you two kinda look alike! Are you related in any way?" She asked. Marjorine could barely hear, on top of her own laughing and the sound of her hair fluttering past her ear.

"Hehehehehe!! Hehehehe's nahahahahat lahahahahame!! He's awhahahahaesome!!" Marjorine defended. The girls looked at each other while Marjorine was too overcome in her mirth. During every private conversation they have had without Marjorine, they discussed the possibility that Marjorine wasn't who she said she was. Wendy shared her theory with the same eye scar over Marjorine's eye and Butters' eye with them. And what a coincidence it was that the last time Marjorine was in town, Butters' was 'killed' just the night before.

"Oh, so you do know Butters? Do you have a crush on him?~" Bebe teased. The girls "ooooo'ed" excitedly as they kept up their tickling. Marjorine belted out high-pitched laughter as her feet were tickled. Manicured nails scritched over her toes and drug down to her heels. Her foot twitched with every pass that drug up and down the length of it.

"Nohohohohoho I dohohohon't!! Hehehehehe- Hehehehe cahahan gehehehet ahahahany guhuhuhuhuy hehehehe wahahahahants!!" Marjorine giggled and tried pulling her feet away. Hands were effectively placed on her ankles to clamp in her place, and the scribbling continued. Wendy raised an eyebrow at what Marjorine said, as did Nichole and Red.

"Get any 'guy' he wants? I didn't know Butters was gay." Red admitted. Crap! Marjorine screwed up in her mirth. She didn't know what she was thinking in her laugh-addled brain, she was thinking as herself as Butters but Butters as herself- her wires got crossed.

"Marjorine how did you find out Butters was gay? Who does he have a crush on?" Red asked. It was like the girls were trying to gossip while tickling Marjorine like crazy. Marjorine shook her head as she grit her teeth.

"Hehehehehe's nahahahahat gahahahahay!! Hehehehe gehehehehets ahahahahall the chihihihihihicks!!" She yelled out. Her toes and hands tried to clamp up and seal off her tickler's fingers, but they were quick to splay them open and get right in the spaces. Marjorine squealed out and twisted on the blankets.

"So Marjorine, when were you able to hang out with Butters' when he was missing the day before you came to South Park and you moved after that, and then you moved back here and immediately came to the sleepover?" Wendy asked. Marjorine was starting to sweat. She had the feeling this wasn't an initiation at all. It was an interrogation. But with so many girls tickling her at once, she didn't even know how to respond. Her mind was in scrambles.

"I juhuhuhuhust knohohohohow hehehehehe's cohohohool!! Okahahahahay?! Oh Chrihihihistmahahahas!!" Two girls on either side of Marjorine started squishing into the skin above her knee. That was a bad spot. Wendy sighed. She was almost sure that Marjorine was actually Butters', but she had no proof.

"Gihihihihirls!! Gihihihihirls I fohohohorget thehehehe p-Pfft- PAHAHASSWORD!! N- AHAHAHAHAHA!" Marjorine started struggling and twisting with renewed energy as the girls found her tummy and belly button. The girls all giggled and sighed at Marjorine's adorable reactions.

"She wasn't lying, she's just ticklish everywhere!" Heidi exclaimed and slipped a hand under her dress to tickle over her bare tummy. Luckily she had sleeping shorts underneath. Marjorine pulled on her knees with renewed energy as Red and Heidi squished her baby pudge on her tummy and scribbled their nails into it.

"WHAHAHAHA?! WHAHAHAT'S THEHEHE PAHAHASSWORD?!" Marjorine couldn't take anymore. She was well passed her limit. Her body shook as the nails never relented and kept up their horrible tingling sensations.

"Oh, the password? It's-" Nichole started, but Wendy interrupted her.

"Marjorine what house do you live in on the street? Answer me!" Wendy demanded. Marjorine's eyes screwed shut as a tear slipped down her blushing cheek. Her belly was starting to hurt from laughing so much.

"Ihihihhihit's the brohohohown hohohohouse dohohohown the rohohohoad!! I- kehehehehee!! I cahahan't breheheheathe!" Marjorine laughed sweetly despite her grim words. Wendy thought for a moment before she felt the click of information in her mind.

"Brown house? That's Butters-" Wendy began, but the girls stopped tickling one by one when Red held up something to her eye to inspect it.

"What is this? Marjorine?" Red held the wire that was taped to Marjorine's chest. All her struggling had knocked the tape off and pretty much threw the cord off of her, and the wire fell to the floor of her dress. Marjorine breathed in large amounts of oxygen; her heart beating out of her chest.

"Marjorine what is this wire? Why are- EW! HUH?!" Nichole shrieked as she pulled her hands away from the braids she was playing with earlier on Marjorine's head. The whole hairpiece came off, showing that the braids were part of a wig that Marjorine wore.

Marjorine sat up in the middle of the group, exposing her true modest hairstyle underneath.

"BUTTERS?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" The girls exclaimed. They all screamed loudly and stood up in a hurry away from Butters. Butters popped up from the blankets and started fidgeting with his hands.

"Oh, Jesus!" Butters scanned the room wildly before his eyes met what he was looking for. The Charlie Charlie game on an end table across the room. Butters scooped up his wig and ran for the paper and pencils, before bolting up the stairs. The girls ran after him hurriedly.

"BUTTERS YOU GET BACK HERE!" Red demanded. Butters ran screaming through Wendy's house as he made his way to the front door.

"Waaaaa! Fellas! Fellas I got it! I got the device!" Butters ran out in the cold night as he ran across the street barefoot, waving the paper and pencils wildly in the air. Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, Tolkien, Craig, Tweek, and Clyde all watched as a wig-less Butters ran into the street with a trail of angry girls following him.

"Oh shit! He was found out! Dude, we have to bail!" Stan shouted. The boys started to run with Butters to their houses as the girls stopped at the door and watched a whole group of boys bolt out of their bushes. Each girl watched shocked as boy after boy trailed after one another and raced down the empty road.

"Oh my God?! Why were they there?! Were they watching us that whole time??" Red asked, disgusted. Wendy, Nichole, Bebe, and Heidi watched disappointedly as their male counterparts disappeared into the night.

"What the hell just happened?!" Nichole demanded. Wendy sighed as she watched a blue and red hat get swallowed up by the night. That fucking idiot.

"The boys were spying on our sleepover. They sent Butters in as Marjorine as an informant." Wendy explained. The girls groaned and physically shook off their hands as they realized they were tickling a boy the entire time.

"Ugh, I HATE boys!" A girl called out.

"I know right? Why are they so weird?!" Bebe crossed her arms in a huff.

"...All in favor of wrecking them on Monday say, Aye," Wendy called.

"Aye."

[aclaywrites]

Oh Lordy this is a saga. For a super duper long time I didn’t care and just wore whatever. Jeans and t-shirts , it was the 70s and early 80s. I remember a pair jeans I had with rainbows on the back pockets, and a long sleeved ocean pacific shirt that everyone made fun of because they said it was a knockoff and not a real OP but it totally was. I had long hair that I didn’t cut and didn’t even pull back and it just hung around my face like Carrie. In 8th grade I got totally into wearing headbands and had 4 or 5 including one that was puffy and red like a ring of Saturn around my forehead. I can only assume this is the costume of a girl who isn’t interested in getting boys to like her, though it wasn’t that conscious in my mind just yet.

The last time I switched schools was 1985, just before my junior year. That’s also the summer I met Jessie and saw the Hunger, so it was time for a change. We went goth/punk 1980s Oklahoma style. I remember three wardrobe standouts: a pair of ballet flats with hieroglyphs on them, a black sweatshirt I cut the collar off, flash dance style and would wear over everything, and a tight, short skirt that was one continuous print of that 50s photo of people watching a 3D movie. I wore that until all the elastic went out and I couldn’t keep it on my ass any more 😂

Jessie and I split up when i went to college. I stopped dying and crimping my hair and let it grow out long again over the course of some years. I stopped trying to hard to be alternative looking, but I still liked black clothes, lots of ruffles and layers. Legit I had a black velvet cloak I wore when it was cold. I had a barrette shaped like a bat and used it to pull my hair back, on the days I didn’t braid it and pin it up Masterpiece Theater style. Dress like this and go sit in a tree and read Jane Eyre with zero irony. WHY DONT LESBIANS WANT TO DATE ME?!! 🤣🤣🤣

When I started teaching in the early 90s I had to go to the (thrift) store and buy adult looking clothes. Lots of jumpers (American meaning) and cardigans. This evolved into dresses and cardigans, I liked short waists, big skirts, no buttons, and a pair of Birkenstock Mary Jane’s which I still own. My off work style was kind of similar. Dresses and skirts and cardigans. I started wearing more colors, but it was still boho chic. Linen, velvet, the occasional Indian find with mirrors embroidered onto it. I cut my hair into the curly bob I wore for the next 20something years and continued to have very few dates.

After my kid was born and I was a stay at home mom, I let my hair grow again and plan to keep it long. It’s easiest for me, and I like the way it looks. I still prefer dresses and skirts, natural fabrics. I still only shop at thrift stores, and am interested only in pleasing myself, so I love to find odd pieces. I started wearing scarves around 2007 and now they’re a part of my look to an almost ridiculous degree (my kid was teasing me about thrift shopping the other day and said ‘yeah you gotta go to every one! What if you miss a scarf!) but I don’t care because they’re gorgeous and warm and dress up an outfit and frame my face while hiding my old-lady wattle 😂

One of the moms on car duty the other day was dropping off her daughter and gave me a long appraising look, then said critically “What does your husband have to say about the way you dress?” I was so shocked all I could say is “Mr Frizzle loves it.”

[desertdollranch]

I’m in the mood to spill some tea tonight. So let me tell you all a story about an unwanted doll. 

So a few years back, my mom was working as a nanny for a family with two young children, a boy and a girl. The parents were pretty awful people who overworked her and paid her only half the local minimum wage, while constantly upgrading their lifestyle and clearly enjoying the fact that they were getting the cheapest childcare in town. But my mom liked the kids, so she overlooked all of the disadvantages.

When the little girl was three years old, my mom wanted to buy her an American Girl doll for Christmas. I warned her not to do it. The kid was way too young, and had no interest in dolls at that point. Not only that, but my mom’s Christmas gift from the parents had been.... a car wash. In July. She’d be spending nearly three days’ wage on a toy that wouldn’t be appreciated. I convinced her to instead get a $20 My Life As doll instead. Then she spent several weeks sewing up an entire wardrobe for the doll. 

No surprise that the little girl didn’t care about it. She never played with the doll, because that same Christmas she got an iPad and became extremely attached to that and only that. And when my mom was telling me this story a few years later, she said that when the girl turned eight, she decided she was “too old for dolls” and dumped the doll at the thrift store donation bin AND... AND.... she then THREW AWAY all the clothes that my mom had sewn for her. 

This broke my mom’s heart. She said she would have appreciated the clothes to be given back to her, or at least donated, or given to a friend. I told her I wasn’t surprised that those people again demonstrated that they had no sense of value, and not to waste extra effort on people that wouldn’t do the same for her.

What finally convinced her that maybe they weren’t good people?

They got a dog. 

It went exactly as you’d expect. These awful humans realized that having a dog involved some actual work and effort, and they quickly got tired of doing it. I don’t know what they were going to do with the dog, but somehow they convinced my mom (who wasn’t working for them then) to take the dog off their hands. She agreed, because even though she didn’t particularly want a dog, she couldn’t bear to see this poor animal locked in her crate 18 hours a day, ignored and cast off the way the gifted doll had been. So she took her in until she found her a forever home that would give her the attention she needed. 

Now my longtime followers might remember this picture I posted in early 2020:

This sweet angelic Chihuahua is named Jodie, and here is the moment she decided that Kaya’s tepee was actually hers because it’s definitely dog-sized. 

Shortly after that I made that post, Jodie was introduced to my mom’s friends, a wealthy retired couple who were actively looking for a dog to pamper and adore. They were thrilled to adopt Jodie, and they’re still happy together more than two years later. You’ll never see a more perfect match. Jodie worships them, and they treat her like a baby princess. Her feet never touch the ground. She sleeps between them in bed, gets carried everywhere, and has all her meals hand-prepared. She loves to sit on her soft couch by the window and watch squirrels in the yard and people walking past with other dogs. This little lady is living exactly the life she aspired to have.

So. I guess this is a lesson in not laying down your life for people who wouldn’t ever consider doing the same for you. If they have no sense of value outside of themselves, nothing you do will change them. 

[loudestcloud]

The thought doesn't count if you don't fucking care!

So basically, A TikToker was doing an angel tree gift kid and ordered online and I was, in a nicer way, like thank fuck someone used the internet to get all the kid wanted instead of just going 'I couldn't find it so they don't get that item that they specifically needed like a coat' and she replied with basically 'Oh at least they tried, we should just be encouraging ppl to care, its the thought that counts blah blah' NOT ITS NOT, Its fucking not! and I can tell you cos I know! I hated pink as a kid but because I was a girl, I always got the girls stockings when I needed them (I'm from the UK/we never got enough help to get onto custom lists like that) and it was all pink glittery shit and skin care stuff. The year I got a box from my school, ppl that knew me? Still pink girly shit and products I can't use, It ruined my Christmas each fucking year because I hated all that shit and thought about the other girls who didn't get one but would have loved it! Making me more sad and I'd just have to donate almost all my stocking fillers to a different place. We eventually stopped using services like that because we decided it wasn't working at all for us so just went to the food places when we needed help. I just wanted the cheap plastic cars and maybe some glue sticks and my teachers and classmates knew that, even a pink car would have been nice! My favourite child toys were a purple Barbie car and a pink thunderbirds car, you can combo girly with my interests as a kid but no one ever did, I was more excited about having the canned foods and trying new brands I'd never seen before. Also I never got a jumper in a single one? All these American kids getting coats, It was only last year that i had a stocking with a hat and gloves like damm. Anyway-

It's like when ppl said we as a society need to stop getting art kids the cheap shitty art sets that will dry out and snap in a week, that's not a thought that counts, they're gonna have ONE good day then have a break down over how they think they did something wrong to the kit when actually it was just a shitty gift. Like yes, if this is a 4 year old maybe get them that horrible thing to test the waters so you can find out what they like but art kids still get them into their 20s! If your kid is older than 4, they will have a preference in art medium. Get the kid that paints some nice paints, better if you know what type they like but even paint they don't like is still better than that shit. Get the drawing kid, wait for it, pencils! Whoa! So new! Care about your fucking kid. They can always tell.

It is not. The thought. That counts.

Edit: Actually, I'm not done. Angel trees this year have been pissing me off because, okay so this one TikToker picked a little boy asked for Bluey stuff and she got him really cool bluey stuff because it was very clear that he'd like that because the note said that. Her girl? They girl card she picked up? Just said anime. Just fuckin anime! No show, no genre, no manga NOTHING! Just anime! Imagine if Bluey boy just said Dogs or cartoons. Someone could get a fuckin Monster high doll for him, that's what it'd be like for these anime kids! This girl liked unicorns and make up so I'd assume maybe she's into magical girls but i understand why the TikToker chose this nice BNHA book because BNHA is popular and, ngl it was probably the only thing available in store but again thats why online is a thing. No shade to this lady tho, she didn't a good job. But another person got another girl who just said anime and FNAF. So y'all can write FNAF, but not a single anime name? Because she had FNAF, they got her a demon slayer color book, they did check the pages for age appropriate stuff before tho. But like we are just assuming these kids are into the popular, boy fighting stuff when they might not be and it sucks cos imagine getting a gift of an anime you actually hate, like I hate Demon slayer but love FNAF, it is a safe choice and a good one like sge replied to be about and i was like 100% the best guess... But why are we having to guess on these personalized fuckin hand made lists! Bluey kid didn't have that! The gamer kids don't get that! fuck these poor girls I guess, girls never need shit apparently! Take what you get you piss poor kids and be grateful it's something 🤪 fuck off

[delulu--lulu]

Spider-Man into/across the spider-verse Spider-sona story

Oc name: Kyana (nickname is Yana)

I wrote a Spider sona story instead of drawing one because I suck at drawing more than writing... so 😃👍

Face Claim! :

Spider-Man into/across the spider-verse Spider-sona story 

Oc name: Kyana (nickname is Yana) Her family moves a lot. She was born and raised in Dallas Texas and her family moved to Brooklyn New York later. 

Her family moved because her father’s family lived there and her grandma was sick so they came to help. 

Mr. Wilson’s family lives in the Bronx but he didn’t want to move back so decided to move to Brooklyn.

She has two annoying younger brothers; Keenan (10) Kel (8). 

She speaks English and only knows a little bit of Spanish but the rest of her family speaks it well which Yana gets frustrated at cause she can’t understand the rest of them while her younger brothers speaks better than she does.

She understands it more than she can speak it unfortunately. So she hears what her family members say about her behind her back. She wishes she didn’t though.

On her dad’s side, they’re Dominican 🇩🇴 . Her mom is just American 🤷🏽‍♀️.

Yes, she knows how to dance bachata.

Yana’s parents swear she was born in the generation because she’s an old-head, loving all the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s classics. One of her favorite songs is I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston. 

Yana was bit by the radioactive spider before Miles was. 

She went to Visions Academy prior to taking the test in Texas and getting in (another reason why her family moves). 

Personality: she’s kinda awkward, little bit of anger issues, but is the nicest person on earth, she’s sensitive and gets taken advantage of sometimes because of it. A completely different person at school than at home (quiet kid 101). 

Got bit by the radioactive spider before she went to school. She was bitten by it without knowing (kinda like a mosquito bite) while she was listening to music and senerioizng on the rooftop.  

School was kinda ass for her. Despite the racial dysphoria of other people wanting to be her race, everything was semi normal.

“How come you’re Latina but your last name is Wilson?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe there’s something called colonization to other countries.”

She handled that better than she thought she would. “By the way I don’t identify as a Latina. I’m black but my ethnicity is Dominican and my nationality is American.”

Gwen noticed her powers first and they became friends first. Yana also spoke to Miles first. 

But that was a mistake after she remembered that her parents were more strict about boys than they were with her brothers about girls.

Ain’t that a shame 😔

Yana was who Miles talked about with his uncle but Gwen happened to be there instead of her. 

While he was trying to rizz up Gwen and his hand got stuck to her hair, he panicked and swung his arms around and it stuck to  Yana’s uniform shirt (she happened to be walking by). 

So they were all embarrassing each other in the middle of the hallway.

Yana spoke to Gwen about what happened afterwards when and explained to her that she thought Miles might be like them.

Spider-Man’s death didn’t take a surprise to Yana with all those crazy villains he fought. 

They both “befriended” him in the forest after they stole the hard drive. She went with Gwen first to save them in her store bought spider man suit. 

Miles and Yana had coincidentally wore the same store bought suit and Yana used one of his cringey lines from the beginning of school.

“Oh, my gosh! This is embarrassing. We wore the same suit.” She laughed but he wasn’t amused.

Yana goes with them to Aunt May’s for the first time and meets the new spider people. She befriends Peni first. She gets to tell her story: “Hi, my name is Yana Wilson and for the past two weeks, I’ve been Brand New Spider-woman.”

Her theme song is Push It by Salt-N-Pepa.

Yana’s spider-woman name is “Spider-Blast” because her spider suit is extremely colorful (she’s based off of the Green Bottle Blue Tarantula) it’s like a “blast” of color. 

The spider team didn’t think that Yana and Miles were good enough to save New York and it made Yana feel insecure about herself.

Of course I’m not going to be good enough, I’ve only been spider woman for two weeks!

When Miles ran away and his crazy self started jumping off of buildings, Yana accompanied him.

They both helped each other personalize their suits. Yana made her suit colorful with the Dominican flag. 

She wanted to practice with him because she felt like she didn’t deserve to be Spider-woman and if she was then she’d at least learn how to.

On that roof after Yana and Miles swung around the city they shared their first kiss. 

During the fight and while everyone was going to leave, Yana almost cried when Gwen had to leave but she assured Yana that she would see her again.

After the fight with Kingpin and after they save New York City, Miles and Yana start a relationship.

A secret one at that matter. Mostly secret from their families. 

ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE

Yana got her phone taken away for failing a class (because she was doing spider things) so she couldn’t call or text Miles.

But he randomly called her phone that was sitting on the counter and Yana just happened to answer the phone before her mom could.

“Boy, it’s past 12! I got minutes.” She whispers angrily into the phone. “Ima call you back on the house phone. Do not call back if I hang up.”

It took a lot of convincing and serious talk with her parents about boys before Yana finally takes Miles to meet her family. But they like him and say that he reminds them of their daughter (no sabo kid). 

Her aunts like that he’s Latino. 

Keenan and Kel do not like Miles at all. They speak about him behind his back in Spanish. Yana tells them to stop though.

Being the only spider people in their dimension gets lonely so they of course miss their friends. 

Yana notices that Miles seems to miss Gwen more than she does. (She finds his drawings of her). 

Once Yana got home from fighting a villain and Spider-Blast was on the TV news in her family’s living room. 

“Spider-Blast?” Her Tia Semira questions while helping fix dinner. “What kind of name is that?” 

Although Yana knew that her Tia didn’t mean it in a criticizing way but it still made her cringe.

“I heard that she was from la caribe.” Her messy Tia Maia says, sticking her nose up. “She better not be dominicana.”

“Nah.” Yana quickly jumped in the conversation. “I’m pretty sure she’s boricuan.” Her tias shrugged it off with a scoff. 

Yana quickly went to Miles’s the next day. “Man, I almost got caught by my nosy tias.” 

“Oh, word?” He says, smirking. “Let me guess… she said that she hoped Miss Spider-Blast wasn’t Dominican.” Yana nods with an eye roll.

When Yana and Miles first met the Spot, as said, Miles didn’t take him seriously. Y’know, that “villain of the week” mess. 

But Yana sensed something off and tried to tone Miles down but he wasn’t listening.

He had to go to his parent teacher conference and was already late so he was rushing. 

Yo girlfriend is always right, Miles 🤷🏽‍♀️

When it’s the party that celebrates Jeff’s promotion to captain, Yana puts off her spider work to go while Miles clearly does not. 

She gets to thinking that he supposes that he’s the better hero than her for still tryna save the city. 

He obviously doesn’t .

When he does get there, his parents are on his ass about not getting there on time and Yana calms him down. While sitting in his room talking, Gwen arrives.

Yana is ecstatic to see her best friend after a whole year and a half. But Miles seems happier. 

And she sho notices too 😒. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Are the last words said that Yana immediately knows will lead to trouble. 

Although swinging around the city with Gwen is fun, she feels like a third wheel even though she and Miles are together and not him and Gwen.

Yana’s petty like that and goes back to the party to see if Gwen and Miles would even notice if she was gone. They do, but not until a little later.

Strike 1

At the party, Yana sulks around watching Miles and Gwen interact on the tower thingy. Rio notices so she goes up to introduce herself to Gwen.

As you could tell, it didn’t go well.

After Gwen leaves Miles and Yana have a little serious talk about what happened and he says he won’t do it again. 

Mhm 😒. 

So to make up for the little argument, Miles decides to take Yana with him to follow Gwen. 

Great job bro 😑

Miles turns invisible and Yana camouflages (another perk of the green blue bottle tarantula). 

Blah, blah, blah, the learn about the spider society and follow Gwen into the dimension. Yana is the first to go in because she feels like she’s being pulled towards it. 

Miles tries grabbing her hand to pull her out but he gets sucked in too.

Meeting Pavitr is the best thing that could happen to Yana. That instantly become friends and she joins in on Pavitr grilling Miles about saying Chai tea.

“That’s like saying Naan bread. Naan means bread. It’s like bread bread, Miles! I thought we talked about this.”

He got sad. “Man, even my own girlfriend is chewing me out.” He mumbles. “I SAID I WAS SORRY, YANA.” ☹️

When Yana met Hobie, it was over. She befriended everyone instantly and it made her happy to meet so many friends since she didn’t have a lot back home. 

Gwen was a little upset that both of them were there because they weren’t supposed to be. But she didn’t have any control over it because Miguel requested both Yana and Miles.

Learning that the Spot was traveling dimensions to get power was nerve wracking to Miles because just yesterday he said that he was just a villain of the week and he wasn’t. 

Yana told him he should’ve known better because she warned him.

Strike 2 

Meeting Miguel could’ve gone better than Yana hoped. He wasn’t very friendly in her opinion. She definitely didn’t like him after how he talked to her and Miles.

She was tryna be nice and chill but obviously it didn’t work.

“Hey, my name is Yana-“

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Damn. This is why you can’t be nice to ppl 😒.” Yana rolls her eyes at him. 

When she learns about the canon events is when things really started to become trouble. Miles’s dad was supposed to die and by Miguel’s introduction on saying that “she isn’t supposed to be here” he explains that Yana is the only variant of herself.

Meaning there are no other Yanas in any other dimension. 

Basically like America Chavez. 🤭

That’s when all her friends turn to stare at her in either awe, confusion, or anything else for that matter. Yana feels exposed in that moment. She didn’t even know it was true but somehow she felt judged.

But the look Miles gives her is something else. It’s the look as if he was hesitant. 

It wasn’t until she and Miles were being chased by every single spider person in existence that Miles realized that she was too fragile. There wasn’t another Yana, so if she died, that was it.

He didn’t want to lose her just like that. 

“Go find Margo and tell her to take you back to our universe.” He said.

Yana didn’t have much choice since she wanted to get out of the chase. These people were chasing her like she owed money. Yana didn’t find Margo until Miles found Margo.

He looked pretty upset. 

Even though they were both invisible/camouflaged, they could sense each other.

Turns out Miles wasn’t even meant to be Spider-Man. So that meant Yana wasn’t either… or so he thought.

Margo didn’t want to send Miles and Yana to Ty roe dimension due to Miguel’s constant threats to not let Miles nor Yana go. 

But she had too.

(She and Hobie the real ones). 

Miles helps Yana into the dimension switching thingy (I don’t know what that thing is even called😭). 

Yana and Margo made intense eye contact which was a whole conversation without even talking. Miles thought it was some girl telepathy thing.

Margo pressed the button. “42.” Yana says with furrowed eyebrows. “We’re not from 42-“ 

Miles yanks Yana along with him as they both tear down through the streets on New York to Miles’s house. Yana climbs through the window first and then Miles does.

His room looks the same… “but this isn’t our New York” she wants to say.

“We made it…” Miles sighs in relief before he turns to look at his girlfriend. “Yana, are you alright?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’m fine… But Miles, this isn’t our-“

The door opens, light filling the room. Panic fills Yana’s head. Since she’s the only version of herself in every universe, that means Rio won’t recognize her.

Yana swiftly hides behind the door. “Miles?” His mom enters with a basket of clothes. Miles had quickly put a large jacket on. “Is now a bad time?”

She continues to make conversation with him as Miles tries to figure out a way to tell her he’s Spider-Man.

Yana watches it all intently. 

“I’m… I’m Spider-Man.” He zips his jacket revealing his suit. 

Rio stares blankly at him. “Who?” 

That’s when Yana realizes. It confirms her suspicions that they aren’t in the right dimension. There is no spider-person in this universe.

No wonder the streets looked so gloomy and dark. As soon as Miles and Rio are out of the room, Yana makes a break for the rooftop. 

As soon as she’s on the roof she takes her mask off to breathe. Taking deep breaths in and out, don’t seem to calm her. They wrack her nerves even more.

Yana looks around. It’s night and it’s darker and gloomier than Brooklyn regularly is. Her eyes soon land on something that makes her jaw drop.

Jeff’s mural. It replaces Aaron’s.

He’s dead in this dimension.

The rooftop door opens. Yana panics again because this time she doesn’t know where to hide. So she goes over the roof but sticks to the wall so she can still see.

“You got the plan?” Aaron’s voice enters her ears. 

Aaron?

“Yeah…” Miles follows quickly behind him looking just as shell shocked as she is. “But maybe we should go over it again… just to make sure.” 

He looks around shocked at all the chaos. And at his face, that’s when Yana knows that he’s seen it. He’s seen the mural.

Aaron gets a text and upon that text, he turns to look at Miles suspiciously. 

At that moment, a dark figure jumps up and punches Miles in the face knocking him down.

Now, how immature would it be for Yana to shout something at this moment? Very. 

“Damn!” Yana exclaims. She didn’t mean to, it was an instinct. She quickly covers her mouth and ducks back down when Aaron and the figure look in her direction. 

“Someone’s here. Check the area.” Aaron orders and slips back into the stair room while the figure disappears. 

Yana panicky looks around for where the person went but doesn’t see or hear them until she’s getting smacked back into the rooftop floor right next to Miles. 

Despite the pain and ringing in her ears, she can look up to see the figure more clearly. A more clean design of the “prowler” suit. 

Another prowler?

The new prowler’s phone rings in his pocket. He takes it out and answers it and his mask opens up. 

Yana’s eyes widen at the face. It’s Miles, but not her Miles. 

It’s the last face she sees before she completely blacks out.

A/N : Do y'all know how long it took for me to finish this?? 😩 I was kinda on and off this this tho

[nancypullen]

It’s DERBY DAY!!!

Late last night I baked a few cupcakes so that the little miss and I could decorate them this morning.  The cupcake liners are red roses (run for the roses) and the decor speaks for itself.  Here’s hoping that they taste better than they look.

After breakfast I started a pork butt in the slow cooker so that we can have a Derby dinner of pulled pork.  I’m throwing together a broccoli salad and a couple of other things, keeping it simple so I can sit down and enjoy the race.  Crossing my fingers that my gray horse wins.  I never bet enough to get rich, but if Tapit Trice wins I will be placing a healthy Sephora order.  Wrinkle cream ain’t cheap.  It also ain’t working, but that’s a story for another day. Around 10 o’clock we ladies went to Easton to paint pottery.  Before departing Tennessee a dear pal gave me a gift certificate to Kiln Born Creations.  Painting pottery and chatting was a favorite past time of ours in Mt. Juliet and her card said to use the gift to create special memories with the grandgirl.  I didn’t intend to wait this long to use it, but between Covid, kidney stones, her 4 year old attention span, etc we did end up waiting.  I’m so glad we did.  Today Little Miss Magic and I painted a fairy house for her garden.  She believes in fairies with all her heart and is convinced she’ll have tenants.  I’m going to have to order some tiny shoes or items of clothing to drop inside from time to time. She’ll know they’ve been there.

Once it’s fired those colors will become brilliant and glossy. I think any fairy would be happy to live there.  

Can we take a moment to appreciate that adorable dress?

That little Peter Pan collar and the blue waist sash - swoon!  My sister made that dress for her daughter twenty plus years ago.  She has gifted me with dresses, a kuspuk (also handmade), dance recital outfits, scads of American Girl dolls, clothes, and equipment, and books.  Aunt Cathi is an absolute celebrity in my grandgirl’s eyes.  When we see a car that even slightly resembles hers, she’ll sigh and say, “I wish that was Aunt Cathi coming to visit.”  She’s a fan. Me too.

Right now I’m actually home alone. The gang went off to an animal festival sponsored by Caroline County’s Humane Society. There’s supposed to be live music, food trucks, alpacas and other interesting animals, fun booths for kids, dogs doing tricks and chasing lures, and lots more. I declared that they should go on without me because I still had some meal prep to do, which I truly did need to do if I intend to enjoy the Kentucky Derby.  That didn’t take long and now I’m tapping away on the ol’ blog and talking to you.  I may have gotten the better end of the deal.  I hope they come home with an alpaca.  We can add it to the squirrel that is currently residing in our garage and refusing to leave. I’m not sure when he got trapped in there, but he tore up the blinds at one window trying to get out.  Mickey cracked the big garage door, but apparently Steve the Squirrel has gotten pretty comfy where we store the bird seed.  He was heading toward the door at one point and Mickey raised it which spoked him and he ran back into the shelving. When we came home from Easton and painting pottery I was assured that Steve has gone.  I don’t think I believe it.  I don’t want to go into the garage to grab gardening stuff or spray paint something and end up with a squirrel in my hair.  It doesn’t do any good to demand that he show himself, he won’t do it.  I asked Mickey why he thinks the squirrel is gone and he said (and I quote), “Because I saw one that looked just like him run across the street.”  This man can’t tell the difference between Ann Margaret and Lucille Ball (”Well, they both have red hair.”) but expects me to believe he can ID a squirrel at twenty yards.  Steve is probably behind the shelves raising a family right now. But I can’t think about that right now.  I’ve got DERBY plans. The more I do now, the more likely I’ll be able to watch the most exciting two minutes in sports.  I’m going to tune in early to ooh and ahh over the hats, listen to the crowd sing My Old Kentucky Home, and get chills when I hear  the “Riders up!” call.  I love it all. Even if I’m not a winner today (Forte is still the favorite), I’m having a ball. Hope your Saturday is relaxing and that you have as much fun as you’d like.  That may mean a big outing or an afternoon nap.  Your call. Sending out love, grab some if you need it. Stay safe, stay well, RIDERS UP! XOXO - Nancy

[ruzzzzzzz]

“THE GREATEST SHOWMAN”

Way back in year 1800s, in a plain quite riot-free New Jersey area. There was a boy named P.T. Barnum who was looking in the mirror and thought when he looked down then he noticed that his right shoe was broken and looked in the mirror again and his father Wheeler Barnum saw him so he dragged him and said: Wheeler Barnum: “Let’s Go! They might miss the train”.

After that they went to the Hills Borough to visit a fancy house because they going to give a renolium. When father and son were inside the fancy house, Wheeler’s maid was fixing Boroz and his son was in his reach. Once P.T. Barnum was away from his father and P.T. notice that a beautiful girl named Jenny lind, Boroz Lind’s daughter, was drinking coffee. P.T. found away to imitate Jenny in drinking coffee so he did something silly and laughed and spilled the contents of Jenny’s coffee. Boroz heard and saw that so he bought Jenny closer to him and said: Boroz: “Is this how we’ve taught you to behave”. P.T. answered at the same time: P.T.: “It’s my fault sir. I maid her laugh”. Boroz thanked P.T. at the same time slapped a whip and said at the same time: Boroz: “Stay away from my daughter. Wheeler was just looking at the incident as if he was stunned.

After that, the two went away from the father and son. P.T. looked at his father who was about top cry. Then P.T. went to the river side alone and Jenny Lind followed him and sat next to him and said: Jenny: “How did you get out? Father is sending me to finishing school. I don’t know what my future will be”. P.T. said at the same time: P.T.: “I do”.

P.T. first led Jenny to the forest and went to an Abandoned Luxury house to show Jenny around.

A few days ago, Jenny was leaving to study abroad to finish her studies and P.T. was dreaming of achieving her goal in life, so she sent a letter to Jenny so that she should know every move she made. While they were exchanging letters with Jenny, P.T’s father was sick and weak and passed away at the same time P.T. was forced to steal food from the stores and the owner caught it so he was crying was taken away someone saw him and gave him something to eat.

P.T. thought a selling news paper to make money and he continued to give letters to Jenny.

Today twenty years later, P.T. Barnum will visit Jenny Lind at her house and say goodbye that he will take Jenny. The two got together at P.T. proposed to Jenny and got married. Jenny wants no matter how big or small the house is, as long as they are together as a family.

A few days later Jenny was pregnant. P.T. works in a letter company.

When P.T. got home he notice a leak in his roof so they fixed it and at the same time he saw his two daughters Helen and Charity playing on the roof. P.T. played with his son and after that he showed something to his children. While he was telling a story about it and at the same time saying happy birthday Charity and he continued to tell the story. Charity made a wish: Charity: “I wish to merry Santa Claus”. P.T. said: “That is a good wish”.

The next morning P.T. thought pf a way for his dream of his family to come true.

One day later P.T. surprised his family so he visited then and came to the point where P.T. showed his dream to his family. He was able to erect a museum named Barnum’s American Museum of Curiousities. The children inside that museum were amazed. P.T. introduced someone to his family Malley, a thief. They toured the inside of the museum to show his family.

One day P.T. Barnum offered to go to Barnum’s Museum to watch but no one accepted them. They just throw the papers they are given on the way. The Barnum’s family went home sad and tired but P.T. didn’t think of giving up so he thought going to the house where Charles lives.

P.T. introduced himself to Charles and he showed him something and said: P.T.: “I am putting together a show and I need a star”. Charles said: “You want people to laugh at me”. P.T. answered was: “well, they’re laughing anyway, kid. So, might as well get paid”. Charles turned it back again faced again with a smile.

P.T. went home and in the evening he wrote and print what was needed to work or perform at his Museum.

He spread what he did on the walls or on the trees so that someone could see who wanted to apply.

After that, a few days later, everyone who wanted to perform at Barnum’s Museum came.

One by one, everyone who wanted to perform introduced themselves, one of which is the tandem of Anne and W.D who are doing Trapeze. Next is Tattoo Man, a person who has many tattoos all over his body. The third is Dog Boy, a man wo jumps high and whose entire body is covered in hair. The Fourth is the Heaviest Man with a record of 750 pounds which is Heaviest than three bears. Next is Irish is the tallest man in Hill Borough. And when everything was over, P.T. printed it again and stuck it on the walls so that people would notice and influence them to visit Barnum’s Museum.

Many people went to the Barnum’s Museum and the performers were ready to perform. There is a performer who is shy so P.T. motivates that. Everyone performed inside the museum, the performers felt no nervousness and no fear, so they did it well.

When they finished performing, everyone inside applauded then they didn’t know that someone was watching criminal degrading which will promote their museum.

That night, Heaviest Man, W.D and the other performers got into a fight so P.T. took them away and let them inside.

After that they performed again one day to make money. So many people watched that the ticket sold out quickly. After all that, they raised a lot of money and interviewed Mr. Barnett’s P.T. who had just come from the Herald and told P.T. that: Mr. Barnett: “Doesn’t it bother you that everything your selling is fake? P.T. said? “It doesn’t matter where they come from. The joy is real”. Mr. Barnett immediately replied: “So you are a philanthropist”? P.T. answer was: “Well, hyperbole isn’t the worst crime. Men suffer more from imagining too little that too much”. That’s why he left and P.T. passed Mr. Barnett on his away.

Since then, P.T. Barnum has become famous. For his performers to be inside while the audience was interviewing them. The performers who wanted to go at couldn’t start it anymore because P.T. preventing it, that’s why everyone struggled so they went out. All the spectators were surprised by what they saw but they continued to go out. P.T. become greedy that he only wanted to be recognized by the audience, so P.T. followed where his performers went P.T. went to each house of his stage manager one by one to apologize for being greedy and pushing them away. He apologized to them and sent them back to Barnum’s Museum to perform and get know the audience.

After that, everyone agreed and they said that if it happed again, he would find someone else to fool him. Since them they able to perform again and the normal people’s threatment of them has improved.

The end.

[frzngrapes]

whoever the fuck these are, pt.1:

Keycie

Recently, I have invented these... I would say OCs, but they're not part of any story. I think it would be more accurate to call them personas, or avatars idk. (i vent and introspect a lot in this, i low-key wrote this for my therapist, she keeps asking me about my characters and imaginary friends)

Physical appearance: we have the same face (picture a pretty black girl... yea that's me. maybe a bit paler) All of these little characters do. Except Cherry. Cherry doesn't have a face. But Keycie has a bigger afro. Really really long hair, she gets asked if they're real often. And they're purple! she has braces with rainbow elastics, and oversized round glasses. You can picture her with sparkling purple fairy wings, or not.

Fashion style: maximalist and inventive. lots of colours and sparkles. Sparkles and rhinestones are a VERY big part of her fashion. she loves anything frilly, her favourite fashion item is tutu skirts. heavy decora and scene influences.

colors: purple, rainbows, neon colours, anything sparkly, animal patterns

TV show: Monster High, Project Runaway

tunes: Keycie's playlist

gender: none (any pronouns, prefers she/they/it/doll)

age: 15

zodiac: Leo sun, Aries rising, Gemini Mars

art, mediums and techniques : aquarelles, collages, crayons, clothes and furnitures, amateur music

.

Anyways, meet the coolest person ever: Keycie! Keycie the person I thought I was going to be, when I was a child. If a few things went differently, I'm sure I would've became her. What should I explain firsts... maybe her name?

I never identified with my dead name. When I was a kid, I wanted people to call me Keycie. Because pronounced in English, that's what my initials were: KC. Also because it sounded like the name an American cheerleader in a Disney Channel show could have, and I wanted to be a cheerleader (and a Disney Channel character). So that became my alias on literally every online game for young girls (moviestarplanet, amour sucré, shopaholic and the list goes on), and on my 3DS

okay, so Keycie lives in an alternate reality, she obviously doesn't exist here. We communicate by sending each other letters, she's wise, and honestly smarter [when I was a kid, people told me i was smart all the time. i got good grades easily and my mom would tell me i was better than the others, and should be n°1. tbh, 8yo me though she was a genius, and more mature than others (i would literally ask my mom to make me run an iq test, i was persuaded it would turn out higher than average lmao (i never took the test)... but now i feel so dumb, behind, and incapable, how ironic.] than me, so she gives great advice, but she's a bit clueless. She doesn't know much about our reality, I have to explain everything to her, in great details.

Now let's move on to her life! The key part is that Keycie does a lot of things. She does rhythmic gymnastics, and theater. She sews her own clothing and when she doesn't, she customs things from the thrift store. She runs a fashion blog and post her outfits on Instagram, because she doesn't care what her classmates would think about it. She loves learning kpop dances and posts her covers on Instagram, she doesn't do things to be good, she does them to have fun! She knows how to sing and posts her covers on YouTube, because she isn't scared of being made fun of. Actually she makes her own music too. She makes silly little tunes on garage band, and she is in a band. She plays the drums there, but she also knows how to play the bass, the guitar, the piano and how to sing [nothing related to my childhood, i just think it's cool. Oh! but there's an instrument i wanted to know how to play as a child!]. She plays the violin too. I don't actually think it's that possible for a human being to do that many stuff with their lives, but if 10 years old Vi saw me doing absolutely nothing he would be heartbroken. Oh, she loves reading, she spends hours and hours reading, whole afternoons, she reads until 4am. She writes fantasy and dystopian novels. they're not that good but she's getting better and better. Also, she's weirdly knowledgeable on science, she does well in physics, chemistry and biology class, actually she loves them!

Keycie is 15 years old. She doesn't know what she wants to do in the future (profession wise) yet but she has so many options because she loves so many things. She loves going to school, she absolutely loves finally being in highschool! She has top tier grade because as a kid I would've never imagined the effortless As i used to get would lead me to not knowing how to work, how to learn and how to study yk. Growing up, she learnt how to put in the extra work, that separated being naturally good and "avoir des facilités" (being "gifted") from being the best. Her mom and dad are proud of her. because She is finally fixed, time fixed her: she can focus on a task, she doesn't forget to do things, she doesn't procrastinate, she can manage herself properly, be organized, have a clean and clear bedroom. When she has a project she takes it to the finish line. She got into that selective design section in high-school, she did.

she has no actual irl friends and she thinks she's ugly. she never fell in love. She doesn't go a day without asking herself why she is in the world. What does she have to bring? she wants to change the world, or maybe to disappear, because she thinks if she can't leave an impact, there's no point in existing at all. She tends to lack empathy. I don't know how to explain it but she is so very disconnected from others,, she's literally not part of our world, she's in her own and She doesn't care about the real one. the fantasy of a kid that manifested into some reality, She might as well be a fairy or have psychic powers. if you get to talk to her, she will be clueless about what you're saying and probably answer something completely unrelated. She can be... idk, insensitive? when I first started sending her letters, she would reply things like "well, It could be worse". but overtime she learnt how to be a good listener :)

I feel like she used to be me in some way, up until some point, but without knowing I lost her. You know how she's very talkative? these days I'm very quiet. I kind of lost the sparkles. If primary school me saw me last year, she would think (aside from some details): "Yup, that's me makes perfect sense. Not too surprised I turned out like that". I was still partially Keycie. And I guess she would recognise me when i'm with my best friends. But if she saw me any other time (aside from when i'm making art, playing bass, or taking walks in nature), she would be so confused. Because I lost Keycie. do i make sense? before, I used to know who I was, and I miss that. This character, and the letters I write for it are a way for me to honour the person i used to be, and the dreams i had

I know it's normal that I'm not her. It's normal to fail, it's normal to change, it's normal to deviate from the path, to be deceived by the world, to struggle and to grow up. But i don't want to. I guess I have to suck it up, to evolve even if it's to be someone else. And I'm sure as I heal, I will find bits of her back. Keycie isn't perfect, and I can't be a kid forever

I forgot to mention: she has a cat and a well decorated bedroom with many plants and a Monster High dolls collection.

[silvanoir]

Key is free (legally!) but not great but has a cool opening

Key: The Metal Idol is a 90s anime that is free several places on the internet (youtube, freevee, tubi, probably elesewhere... I watched it on freevee, which is a place to watch a variety of shows including anime free and legally with only a few ads, not sure if it works outside the US)

Do I recommend it?  well.  No?  The opening, yes.  Loved the song (I watched the English Dub, its different in the original Japanese, I liked the English opening).  It’s going to be in my head for a while.  And there’s a part where the city behind her is turning gears and the train dances like ribbon.  Liked that little part

But uh, it’s for sure from the era where all anime was thought of by Americans to be in 2 categories : “kids cartoons” or “violent sex cartoons” (Key being the latter). There is some real unnecessary “fanservice” and blood shed... I know there is some that fits due to being about robots and men controlling music careers of young women and teenage girls, but some other stuff didn’t need to be there.  I never watched it when it was first brought over in the US (on VHS, I remember seeing it in music stores) because she has stupid anime hair.  But hey, it was free so I gave it a chance this time... [SPOILERS AHEAD!]

The “plot” is that she’s a robot from the country who moves to Tokyo because making 30,000 friends will make her human.  She decides being an idol (pop singer) is the best way to go about this.  How I thought it would go: she has a kind of AI and interacting positively with people will make her more human-like.  How it went : actually she has psychic powers that she suppressed due to trauma of her family dying and convinced herself she is an emotionless robot.

Which is something (minus the powers) that I’ve seen in a better anime movie (trauma making someone think they are a robot).

It almost feels like a magical girl anime that took a dark turn, but not in the way way that modern magical girl animes take a dark turn, if that makes sense.

And the bad pacing is well-known.  Short episodes (15 to 25 mins) for eps 1-13.  190 min episodes for eps 14 and 15.  They took the mystery and backstory slowly being hinted at for the previous 13 and let ep 14 be 3 guys sitting around talking with only limited amounts of actually animated flashback.  WOW.

There are some truly unhinged characters that will make you ask “what is WITH that guy?” and never really get a good answer. 

Most unintentionally hilarious scene was the the huge muscle villain guy in jail, sitting naked except for his bandages, hunt-and-peck typing on a bulky old tan computer trying to hard to type in a password and failing again and again.  It wasn’t all at once, it kept cutting to him doing this.  If you add up the screentime of it it went on for what feels like a half hour.  The longer it went on the funnier it got.

Also, they thought it was a sci-fi possibility but were still in disbelief that the military could use remotely controlled robots in war... wonder how they’d react if you could go back in time and tell the makers of the anime about drones and those Boston Dynamics “dogs”.

I’m mad that a certain character died.  If that person had lived, there should’ve been more episodes (at least one more long, or 2 more short), with that person and Key adjusting to Key’s new human life after the villains are defeated and Key is “human”. 

Also, wanted to know what happened to the idol that Key was fixated on.... Miho.... very unclear if she died or not. (different character than mentioned above).  Considering Key’s fixation on her, and her singing of Key’s mother’s lullaby, one thing I would change about the plot is to have Miho actually BE Key’s mother.... it would be an interesting commentary on stardom and youth if it was a middle-aged woman who was remote-controlling a young-woman robot pop singer persona on stage.

Overall, do I regret watching it?  No.  Would I watch the series again?  No.  The opening/ending?  Yes.

[more-than-a-princess]

🐣What were you like as a kid? Allegedly? Has anything changed, and have people noticed?

In Depth and Personal Munday Meme - Accepting!

My favorite places as a child were quiet, full of books and/or dolls, and somewhere I could wear a pretty dress, eat sweets, and read to my dolls or stuffed animals. I'm an only child and have parents with busy careers, so I was left on my own (middle school and up) or with a sitter or nanny quite often. I had trouble making friends and relating to other kids as I was constantly surrounded by adults whom I could reason with: I'm pretty sure part of the reason why I was bullied so much was that I attempted to reason with other kids the way I did with adults (or tried to) and couldn't understand why they just teased me instead. I begged to be homeschooled but my parents said no and sent me to private school hell instead. I think the only time I really liked going to school for something more than my favorite classes was university.

That said, my favorite things in life were the bookstore and/or library, Scholastic Book Fair (I was that kid who ordered whatever I wanted off the book list and needed help carrying the bags to my parents' cars), the Disney Store (beeline for the stuffed animal tower and the TV playing film/song clips usually, if I wasn't distracted by dolls), and whenever I got new Barbies or American Girl dolls. I actually preferred AG more: the fact they came with books and girls from historical eras was the coolest thing to me! Those dolls and my cats at the time got to hear a lot of me trying to read aloud as much as I could.

I wasn't very athletic so sports teams were out of the question most of the time (I lifted weights instead starting in middle school in lieu of a school team due to how badly I was bullied. It just wasn't a great idea for my mental health to keep me around those kids longer than I needed to be), and I wasn't allowed video games until high school (right around when I'd sent my college applications) because my parents were convinced that if I played video games, I'd never get into a good university. This is a big reason why I never became much of a gamer! I didn't grow up with the hand-eye coordination practice with consoles and controllers many kids did. I also didn't get cable TV until the end of middle school: things like Nickelodeon and the Disney Channel were luxuries for me, ones I only got to indulge in at other family members' houses.

I think the funniest bit of it all is how I went from very much a dress-loving, pink-adorning, dress-wearing child to a teenager, constantly sullen, dressed in black/Hot Topic/early Torrid attire with the goth-iest high school senior photoshoot...and right back to a woman who adores dresses, classic colors, neutrals, and pastels, and just feels better about her day when pulling a dress and favorite pair of shoes/bag out of her closet, just to go to a cafe and shopping/a bookstore. My parents have definitely noticed this and are having the last laugh at middle/high school-era Rae, who would only wear wide leg JNCO style trousers with so many ripped holes at the bottom, bondage pants/skirts, anime/geek t-shirts, fancy dresses from The Pyramid Collection (I had a wicca phase) and the darkest red lipstick that wasn't black but still broke the school dress code so the administration made me wash it off each morning (despite me swatching it on my hand and showing them no, it wasn't black: black lipstick was banned, like jeans, miniskirts, tanktops, and anything featuring 'gang' logos or relating to Eminem or Nelly. Honestly, besides the jeans, good move school!)...is now a far more cheerful and content person, who has embraced color, dresses, bows, etc. once again.

tl;dr - my teenage years were awful, do not want to revisit no matter how much my high school keeps insisting I should show up for my 20-year reunion.

In a more nerdy sense, I'm realizing that in my late thirties with more disposable income, I can finally wear all the costumes I wanted to do as a teenage cosplayer but didn't have the funds to do so. I am doing or rewearing so many old school costumes in 2024, and upgrading some outfits I already love with higher-quality pieces.

[afr0-thunder]

[Poor Chronicles Pt. 31]

Topics: No “No!” Policy (continued)/New Location/African American Manager Disrespect (The Series)/Saving & Shopping/SEXI/Weed/Work (Social)

I actually lied about the No “No!” Policy. I remember one day I had come back from like 6 hours of errands and saw they emailed me. I dreaded responding after walking for 6 hours. I waited 15 minutes just to solidify. I typed my reply and basically said “I just got done with errands and left right before you sent it. My apologies, hope you can find a replacement.”. The shift started in 30 minutes and I still needed to shower and get there. I usually use the train for this kind of task, but saying no because I “barely had time” (waited 15 minutes) felt funnier. I also said, “I would miss part of the shift at this point. What would even be the point? I’m missing money already.”. Other than that it has always applied.

In other news, I have doubled my hours this week. I picked up a double and have one for Sunday. My head coach asked me to come to her other store next week and get some work in there as well. I said they’d be transferring me to another store closer to my house. I was thinking even closer, but this is also something I expected them to do

My African American manager made a comment about how slow the close was and asked if I thought the other guy who does it, did it faster than me. I asked was he being serious. I told him between saying I was a “half nigga”, asking if I “ever had 8 kids in any of my classes” and being serious about if this other guy does this better than me, this is the one that’s going to do it on the disrespect. Shit list, eternally. Like I said.

In response to this increase in income, I have said “Fuck being 3 months ahead!”. I went to another store in the area. The jeans store still looks good. I saw a coat. It fits the color scheme…but it has white in it. Turns out the other jacket DOES fit the color scheme, but has a tiny bit of white in it. I’m stressed out. They’ve seen the last of me in that store though (for now). The other store also had Jordans. No white in them! I considered getting these on a separate occasion, but I’ve decided to get them together when I have time. I saw some Air Force Ones as well. If they have them in my size, I’ll wind up getting both.

“SEXI” ended up replying with a snapchat the next day. It was one of those whore selfies that makes you think she takes good nudes. Now we play the game where we reply to each other every 7 hours.

I’ve smoked all my weed. Currently figuring out when I’ll see the dealer again. My work schedule conflicts with his availability. Every time I start back I say “Damn, I been waiting to smoke THIS? This shit kind of strong…NAW I AINT NO BITCH. Ima keep smoking it too…”. My off days were nearly perfect. I was so high I almost couldn’t find my eyes most days.

There’s this girl from work (a regular). She comes in like all the time and gets the same thing. I try to see her as I do everybody else…I just can’t shy away from the fact that like after I saw her for the second or third time I just saw her as a dick sucker and have not been able to discard of this mindset.

- MH (2023)

[11/18/2023 - 8:06AM]

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

The Nirvana Effect

Stephen Jay Morris

9/11/2023

©Scientific Morality

The Early 60’s was an innocent time in America if you were White and middle class. Well, on the surface it looked like that. Every sin was a secret. Superficiality was as phony as a three-dollar bill. You were never allowed to express your true feelings because it was bad optics. Your clothes were a status symbol and so was your car. It was the second decade of the teenager and the first time that age groups were recognized as real people.

During the prior decade, Rock & Roll had burst onto the scene, scaring the adults to high heaven. Dance styles emulated sexual movements in bed. Black singers were sexualizing our pure-as-white-as-snow children.

Then, scandals ruined the music movements. Payola was one of them. Record A&R promoters would bribe disk jockeys to play their records. Jerry Lee Lewis married an underaged girl. Elvis got drafted into the Army. The Big Bopper, Ritchie Valens, and Buddy Holly all died in a fatal plane crash.

By 1960, the era of JFK Camelot had taken hold. Rock & Roll was replaced by teen idols—good looking chads with nice pompadours. The fossil fuel industry made millions selling hair tonic to horny, teenage, White boys who wanted to get laid. If you were handsome and could sing, you got an agent who got you a record contract. Then, you had a team of song writers who penned you a hit record. You appeared on teen dance shows and lip synched your hit song. Millions of teenage girls had your picture on their bedroom walls. You had it made! For four years, starting in 1959, teen idols dominated the charts. They ruled the airwaves.

Then, on February 9th, 1964, the Beatles debuted on the Ed Sulivan Show. Afterwards, Franki Avalon, Booby Rydell, and Fabian lost their fame. Some teen idols survived by starring in B movies; others ended up as auto mechanics. One teen idol saved his career by singing a song about an underage girl, “Come Back When You Grow Up, Girl.” For a while, Ephebophilia was a trend in popular music.

All in all, the has-been teen idols blamed their showbiz failure on the Beatles. The Beatles, however, reminded Americans what Rock and Roll was all about. They changed everything about popular music and culture. Long hair replaced slicked-back pompadours. Tennis shoes were replaced by Beatles boots. The Beatles had one Ephebophilia-themed lyric that went, “Well, she was just 17, you know what I mean,…” It was called, “I Saw Her Standing There.” American conservatives claimed the Beatles were after our White, virgin, maidens. Actually—it was the other way around!

Fast forward to the 90’s. The music industry was on top of the Fortune 500. Money and cocaine ruled the decade. The Punk Rock movement fragmented into various sects. Heavy Metal became androgynous; all the metal bands looked like the 70’s New York Dolls. Synthesizers and drum machines dominated the radio airwaves. The Grateful Dead became a traveling hippie band to Gen X goofballs who missed the Summer of Love. College radio stations became popular because commercial radio sucked ass. The so-called Rock stations were playing 70’s Heavy Metal music. Only college radio was the saving grace of real music. Kids knew how fake music had gotten, with the silly clothes and hairdos.

I used to live in Los Angeles, in the Fairfax district. There was a street called Melrose, a two-lane thoroughfare that stretched eastward from West Hollywood to East Hollywood. It had independent store fronts for stuff like plumbing supplies, paint, and carpeting. It also had a few small theaters for actors trying to make it to the big time. Then, suddenly, due to cheap rent, a myriad of shops popped up; trendy shops for the “dedicated followers of fashion.” Before long, the sidewalks became crowded with teens in costumes defined as goth rockers, new romantics, mods, punk rockers, and heavy metal geeks. West Melrose Avenue became a mixture of England’s 1966 Carnaby Street and the Sunset Strip of the same year. I stopped going there.

Everybody became alienated by the superficiality of music. Instead, kids were being drawn to Speed Metal and Hard Core Punk.

Then, up in Aberdeen Washington, a new band appeared. They looked like early 70’s Hippies. They played a mixture of Punk and Heavy Metal. They didn’t give a shit about their appearance. They had no money for nice clothes or haircuts. It was because of this that Rock critics gave them the moniker, “grunge.” They were “Nirvana.” After they hit the scene, like Detroit in the 60’s, Seatle became the new capital of Rock. The Seattle bands took Rock music back to their roots!

Overnight, nobody hung out on Melrose anymore. Glam Rock clubs closed, chicks with dicks bands disappeared, and Techno Pop vanished from radio.  Subsequently, these types all blamed Nirvana. So-called “Alternative Rock” was born. Then, Gangster Rap came crashing into the youth’s consciousness. Grunge took over, as did Speed Core bands. Rock was back! But not to stay; It lasted just 10 years.

A lot of 80’s musicians blamed Nirvana for their unemployment. They have themselves to blame. There is more to Rock and Roll than drug orgies, outlandish outfits, and fancy guitars. It was all about the music. 80’s rock stars wanted glory and fun, but not the hard work of creativity and artistry of the music.

Thank God for the Beatles’ and Nirvana’s revolutions. What will be next?

Big mystery!

[tr0ubl3d-tr4n53nd3r]

i dont really know much about american girl dolls but i think theyre really cool! do you think you could tell me about your favorite one?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! YES YES YESSSSSSS! IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS AGHHHHHHHHH OMG OMG OMG.

Okay um... I didn't just do that. Fr fr. No I'm cool.

Okay... who do I infodump about? I read Caroline Abbott, cécile Ray, and Marie Grace Gardener's books growing up, but I own Kit and Maryellen.

I think imma go with Kit Kittridge, from 1930's Cincinnati, Ohio

OKAY SO. I NEVER READ ANY BOOKS PAST MEET SO I REALLY DONT KNOW TOO MUCH BUT I WATCHED THE MOVIE SO...

her meet outfit looks like this

"Shes (not) a faking lying blone schemer and her name isn't Kit... ITS MARGRET"

Had to throw a total drama reference in there, but it's true. Her real name is Margaret Mildred Kittridge. She was named after her mom and like... grandma, but like she wasn't her grandma? Idk it's hard to explain. I know what I mean so I guess it works. She got the name Kit because when she was a kid her father sang this song that went like "pack up your troubles in your old kit bag" and kit loved it so she would always say "dad! Sing the Kit song!" And the name stuck. (The song is a bop and I obsessively listened to it last year when I first heard the actual song.)

Idk if you want to listen to it it's there. I did research on it but that's a whole separate thing. Also yes it does use the f slur. It was regarding cigarettes (damn British people)

Okay... storyline (I remember the movie more. I only read the beforever book too so my memory of the actual story is a bit tainted. And because the beforever books are honestly horrible because they cut out legitimately the entire story to make it shorter, I will be referring to the movie.)

So the movie starts out with kit going to her brother Charlie's place of work to turn in a newspaper she wrote herself (he works at the Cincinnati News thingy. Idk I don't read the news.) In the book he is living at home about to leave for uni, and he doesn't go because they are too poor. So this guy is like "hey this is a giant company... we can't take ur newspaper sorry" and she goes home.

When she gets there there are two hobos who need a job for some food and she brings them to her mom so they can get some. Tbh I can't remember their names. One is this like... tall white boy, and the other is a child. He isn't white. He's prolly black but idk. The mom, Margret is hanging out with Judgy socialites and she is nice but the others are not. One of them makes a comment about how it's disgusting how they don't have a place to live (keep her in mind she is important later.) Then her and three other girls go into a treehouse together and take an oath of allegiance to the treehouse club. It's basically about women who did great things like Amelia Earheart. In it is her best friend Ruth-Ann "Ruthie" Smithens, and two other girls. They are sisters and live across the street.

Unfortunately in the middle of the oath the look outside to see the girls mom weeping outside the house, and all of their furniture being moved out. A foreclosure sign was being nailed into their front yard. Both girls ledt to never be seen again. Seriously where did they go? Anyway this didn't really affect our unvothered queen Kit and she decided to write a newspaper article about it for her father to read. (In the book he came home in a car, in the movie he walked. Idk why tbh.) It deeply bothered him and he had a sad demeaner

Nothing really happens for a bit if I remember right, until she goes on a little trip to the store or something and she sees a little dog with a sign that says "name is grace. Can't feed anymore" and she begs her mom to get her. She reluctantly says yes and suddenly a man runs by with a stolen wallet. He has a parrot tattoo. Remember that for later too.

That night her snobby rich uncle came over and raged over the fact they adopted a dog and nothing else really happened. He has more importance in the books I think.

Anyway. Remember that socialite from earlier? Yeah. She becomes homeless. Karma. Margret, who felt they were doing fine invited her to live with them, and she did. She moved in with her son whatsitsface or whatever. Idk he's not #girlpower or whatever. He is girlypop. Defo fr. Anyway in the book he's like "frail" or whatever and kit hates him for it. So not slay kit. Be nice to him (I just rememyhis name was Stirling.)

Anyway her dad comes home from work and is concerned about the fact they moved in and then kit goes to school. There is a bully and Stirling essentially tar and feathered him (kits school outfit ft. Maryellen because this is the only one I took btw)

Anyway so basically they're taking a field trip to the food kitchen to help the less fortunate and kit sees her dad and throws a hissy fit saying she hates her dad or something. In the book he just sold the car and that's what set her off. He went to Chicago or something and she got so mad and typed on the typewriter about how stupid Chicago was and money and how she hated her dad, then scrapped the letter and wrote about how cool the boarders she took in were. Yes boarders. The ones in the book seem lame. It was like a few teachers and a doctor or something idk. In the movie tho, a dancer, a librarian, a magician, then of course Stirling and his mom.

Nothing really happens for a while excepy that those two hobos have been working for them still and Margret gives them the dad's old boots. That's important to know.

Kit goes to the hobo camp with Stirling, Ruthie, and the two hobos and she writes a newspaper about it. She tries to get this one published but fails again.

Then she goes home and her family and all boarders put their values into a box and hid it in the house because Ruthies dad (a rich banker who keeps none of his money in the bank) was robbed. Actually it was robbed by some guy... no someone they know. They had kits dad's shoes. YES JT WAS THE HOBOS. but they wouldn't do that... would they? No... because the culprit has a parrot tattoo and neither had that!!!

So basically they were framed... but by who?

No time to figure it out because the kitties were robbed and their house was foreclosed. They had only a little bit to move out, but until that one of the boarders' cousins moved in. Kit saw that he had a tattoo and investigated his room while they were gone. She found EVERYTHING that was stolen, and chased them down. They found her Ruthie and Stirling and they got into this epic chase. Because they could read hobo they figured out which way the camp was and switched the sign backwards. The hobos knew them, and liked them, so they hid them when the people came (the magician, his cousin, and the librarian oddly enough) and they threatened the hobos. Basically the popo caught them or something and the other hobos were released (oh yeah I forgot to mention the short one ended up being trans omg)

Kit won her family a cash reward because it turned out they were like major criminals, then she wrote a newspaper article, got it published, and got like 3k in modern day money from it. They were saved.

Thanksgiving day came up and it was pretty normal, except now there were boarders. Then the door rings. Kit jumps up thinking it's her dad and it ends up being every single hobo from camp bringing a different kind of hobo food. Also the trans one learned to read thats like a whole sub plot I forgot to mention. She reads in front of the whole group of people and everyone is happy, except for kit. She misses dad. All of a sudden in the isolating quiet of such a loud place she looks outside and sees a figure. HER DAD.

Anyway that was basically it tbh but here are some other outfits I have

[darlingkara]

Nevermind the loose dirt. It's my 99 cent grocery store plant rescue that I am trying to save via better soil/re-potting and with bread ties, and my little tiny espresso. The stems were brown when I got it, but I don't think she is gonna make it. Taken a few days ago, but seemed like good photo for this post.

I woke up WAY too early. Again. I either stay awake for like 25 hours, and sleep 8, or the usual 16 hours and sleep about 4 hours. I have had 3 sleep lab tests done (albeit years and years ago) when I kept falling asleep. This was before I had this weird habit I have now. I slept normally back then. Diagnosis: Narcolepsy and non-24 hour sleep cycle (Circadian Rhythm Disorder?). I was a bit blown back, to be honest, especially by Narcolepsy. And guess what? The MD had to report it to the DMV, if I did not. If you have a driver's license, it is stated on it AND you have to be medicated while driving. The medicine was Dexedrine, or pretty much @mphetamine. Makes sense-- Can't be falling asleep while driving. I stayed awake, and my depression lifted. Any MD's reading this-- Please consider it for treatment resistant depression. I never felt hyper on it (I felt nothing, tbh) which would of course, lead me to being diagnosed with ADHD*.

So now, I am an unmedicated ADHD and sleep disorder gal of a mess, hahaha. But I am happy, or at least content. I think it has gotten better, or I have learned how to deal with it. I could not do now what I did in my unmedicated 20's-- Full time school, full time job and a kid. Nope. I have ZERO idea how I did it. The narcolepsy mostly went away. I WILL fall asleep at the theatre, so don't bother inviting me, especially in Plague Era that 99% of people refuse to admit still exists. And it is 50/50 in any dark situation, regardless of how well rested I am.

Luckily, I can now work when I want (other than 2 days a month), and do not have to drive. I do have to set an alarm for three days out of the week for class (it is used as a take a shower and get ready alert bc I keep waking up before it, lol), but luckily it isn't early. I LOVED driving, btw, and I loved cars. But as an American, what else are you supposed to do? Tangent, but... I would re-do SO much in the USA if given the chance. Like...Public transport and social housing. These are looked down upon in the US, which makes it seem SOOOOO odd to me now. Plus the whole gun thang. Sorry, but I will never change my mind. The 2nd Amendment was written for MUSKETS. We have drones now. If you feel the need to open carry a weapon of death to the grocery store, there is something wrong with you. Sorry, not sorry.

I am not exactly against hunting (if you do it for food, not sport). When I was about 12, we moved** to a mostly hillbilly area (not making fun of them-- I mostly like them dern hillbillies, and one of my BF'S was one since I was TWELVE... Though I have not been able to find her since 2021 or early 2022. Covid or went Trump, I do not know. I will continue my search. Her having the most generic name in the English speaking world does not help)). And well, my first look at hunting was not pretty. Dead deer legs, sticking out of truck beds. Like, everywhere. People told me this was normal. I literally vomited and remember thinking and saying, out loud at lunch, ''The fuck, this is NOT normal. Throw a TARP over it, for Christ's sake.''

*Btw, girls and women are SO good at hiding ADHD. We are typically not hyper or rowdy. If we are, it is within our safe spaces, with friends. If your sister/mom/gf/wife tends to forget things you have told her, seems unorganized or stressed over little things, gets bitchy before leaving the house with you, look into it first and do not get upset.

**I was not an Army Brat, but my family did move a lot (6 times, to different states), and it was not because of financial instability. Yes, my parents worked for the government, but not in any military way. So--I learned a new term-- TCK-- Third Culture Kid (also applies to adults). We are GREAT at fitting in anywhere, more empathetic, less racist (bc sometimes, even being white, people are racist if you are the minority. Trust me, I know personally, and it was horrible), tend to attend university more (not saying all should).. But of course there is a catch.

We probably have attachment disorders on all sides. I didn't get the overly attachment type, luckily. If anything, I need help attaching. And I do not have ''the itch'' to move. As an adult, I rented the perfect house for me and my minion at the time. Great school district, fenced in (by chicken wire on one side for most of the time) backyard, walkable to the downtown area in 3 mins, and I was allowed to plant a garden and paint, etc. I did have to mow the effing backyard when my weirdo neighbor went away every summer. Fucker never told me when he was leaving, but the grass length did. I lined the fences with gladiolas and ivy and had a gas BBQ and a nice table and umbrella. I would let my kitties out every now and then, but only when I was there-- they could escape if they wanted to. One was a serial killer, not even kidding. A Persian, fluffy, serial killer. I got minion*** a slip and slide, hahahaha... We threw some pretty good backyard parties. All of my neighbors were snobs. Like Harvard asshole snobbery. Anyway, I lived there the longest-- almost 11 years. My landlord wanted to sell it, and it was sold within about a month and a half. THAT SUCKED and was not expected... Thought I had about 5 or 6 months.

I had to go live with my mother, as she lived in the school district minion was in. Worst decision of my life. I love my mother, and she was really a great mother, but something went CRAZY in 2002 and again in 2014, that I am not yet capable of discussing on a public forum. Thinking of substack. Like a $4 a month thing. This is shit that horribly affected my life, and I needed therapy for-- as an adult. Shit that when I think about, even 8 years later, I still tear up. And I am NOT a cryer. As a mother, she was awesome! She told me to avoid beauty magazines, taught me how to plumb and do home repair, said chose your religion when you are an adult if you want to, and sooooo much more. My father was really great, as well. They stayed married for FAR too long. I think I was about 25 when they got divorced, but it was over my mom being selfish with her health insurance and cutting my dad off. He had a disabling heart attack when he was 42, and died in 2007. My mom cutting off his health insurance was fucking brutal.

The dude was ALWAYS on my side. So, I still say hello from time to time to my mother. Most importantly, I talk to minion, but he is busy working and crushing on some girl, his best friend's girl. They work together and he hates his job. He is waiting for her to give the okay for them to both leave and work somewhere else. I said DO NOT WAIT FOR ANYONE--- EVER!!! He sent me a pic of her and said that sometimes she drinks too much and gets sexual. I was like OMG.

She looks like me and that is what I did when I was younger. Freud, are you out there? It's me, Kara.

And I have lived here the second longest.

And I want to die and be buried here. Every year, there is a free concert, ranging from classical music to rock music, held at the cemetery.

5-30K people can come listen to music, drink a bit, dance, and have fun. That the cemetery I would like to be buried in.

If that is morbid to you, you are not invited. :)

***Minion is now an adult. I am not worried about his financial future (everyone born after The Boomers got fucked, let's be honest)because luckily, I am a Black Sheep, and he will get my inheritance. Good for him! Since I am 34-99 years old (haha), I will not tell you how old he is. Yes, I was married and he was planned. I was TOO young-- but when your spouse made $80k a year in the early 2000s, you figure, nice, I will just raise minion, and then finish school. That did not happen the way I had it planned. The ex husband is still wealthy and lucky, and it pisses me off. If you knew the full story, you would understand. Let's just say that one brutal character mentioned in today's blog had a lot to do with it, including my parent's divorce. I swear it is not some Jerry Springer shit, and they did NOT bang, and luckily, my father and I were together when we found ''the letters''. The Brutal one would end up doing MUCH worse things than having feelings for her daughter's husband, and yeah-- it is personal.

Life is 50% unplannable. I do believe in luck, and I do believe in you get what you give, although I LOATHE woo woo pseudoscience bullshit.

I will NOT be camming tonight. My theatre thing begins tonight. It is only once a month. Last week, I couldn't have a schedule because I still have periods, which are very predictable, but this every 18 days shit is a bit new. Usually its every 25 days, abnormal is under 23 days in between periods. Went to the dr, had hormone levels taken. Good news-- I am NOT an alien. Bad news is that the tests prove pretty much nothing. I am having about 5 more periods a year than normal-- so about half the year. Great. Of course I now have to a dailytake high-ish dose iron supplements. I believe I have peri or pre-menopause which literally NO ONE talks about, yet it affects HALF of the population. And pre or peri-menopause is WORSE than menopause. Menopause is easy street, so I have learned. Some days I am nice and patient, other days I want to bite your face off. Sometimes I am horny, sometimes I seem asexual. When my roommate/ex bf of like 12 years (No, we do not bang and maybe once a month I fall asleep in his room watching a movie), DARES to shut MY room's window or turn off MY fan, especially if I am sleeping and wake up hot, I am literally thinking:

''I could kill you, and if half the jurors were women 35+, it would be an excusable homicide.'' I am not a violent person at all, btw, in any way or sense. I am learning as I go along. Surprise, surprise, there is not a whole lot of research on it. Reddit's Menopause has been a Godsend.

In the one racist area I lived in, I was ''jumped'' by 3 or 4 girls who basically PLAN attacked me, outta the blue. I won. All almost 5 feet of me. I learned about adrenaline and JFC, I get strong and mean if I think I am gonna die. I kicked dirt into their eyes and kicked their throats. How fucked up is that? I was maybe 11 years old. I did not and do not know how to fight. Is is something instinctual? I have no idea and too many research topics as it is. All I knew was that there were three of them, one of me, and they were larger and taller than I was.

Anyway, off to shower and go to my classes. Idk if I will cam after the theatre or not.

And you would not believe what I found when I took out the garbage, shortly after writing this (within the hour). It is not a popular name here, afaik. I will post it on Twitter @DarlingKara.