#so i just edited a shitty santa hat on an anime still

[whumperooni]

Good Girl This Year

Pairing: Fatgum x Reader

Tags/Warnings: public fingering, oral, unprotected sex, Lite daddy kink, praise, size kink

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Yes I know it’s after Christmas and no I don’t care;;;;;

“Alright, just one more photo and then Santa needs a break!”

There’s a collective whine that fills the room, but Fatgum just laughs at it- grins at the pink cheeked people crowded around him with drinks in their hands and joy in their eyes.

A Christmas party was a good idea- he’ll have to thank Kirishima again for suggesting it.

Said intern leads someone past the velvet rope and up to him- a cute, wide eyed thing with flushed cheeks and an excited tremble running through them. He doesn’t recognize them- must be a fan or a new sidekick to one of the many heroes at the party- and he grins wider as he pats his lap.

“Come sit on Santa’s lap, darlin’, and tell me what ya want this year.”

The flush on your cheeks deepen, but you hurry forward eagerly- perch yourself up on his lap and look up at him with wonder all over your pretty face.

Ah, you’re a real cutie- dressed up in a sweet little plaid skirt and a sweater, a set of reindeer horns perched on your head. You’re soft against him and small and Fatgum blinks when you press against him just a little, when you bite your lip as you peek up at him shyly.

“Have ya been a good girl this year?” he asks- half teasing as he places a hand on your knee.

“I- I think so, Mr. Fatgum, sir. Um, I mean Santa.”

He laughs- nice and hearty- and you flush even more, curl your little fingers into his coat. He doesn’t chide you for it- how could he when you’re so cute and sweet all perched up on his lap?

(So maybe he’s had a sip or two or three of the “special punch” that Midnight brought. And maybe it’s been a while since he’s had such an adorable little thing sat on his lap.

It’s nice- it’s really nice. And it’s a party! It’s time for him to let loose a little! He can enjoy someone cute and soft and small sitting on his lap, right? Ain’t nothing wrong with it.

And, besides, he’s Santa- he’s supposed to have wide eyed things perched on him.)

“I bet so,” he hums out, giving your knee a little rub. “Ya look like a good girl.”

A soft noise slips from you and it doesn’t escape his notice how your thighs press together and then spread just the tiniest bit wider, how your lashes flutter. A quick glance around the room shows that most everyone is distracted from him and Fatgum doesn’t hesitate more than a second before letting his hand drift up just a bit higher up your leg.

He doesn’t usually do this sort of thing but, hey, it’s a party! Maybe he can slip his number to you or somethin’- maybe he can even invite you to grab a drink for him after the party.

Yeah, that would be nice. A real good way to wind down the night.

“So, anything ya wanna ask Santa for this year, darlin’?”

You squirm on his lap and that has his fingers flexing against your thigh, his cock stirring a little.

(Okay, so maybe it’s been a really long time for him)

“I, um, well...”

You trail off- all sweet and shy- and Fatgum grins down at you, rubs your back lightly before curling his hand around and resting it on your waist. You flush just a little more at the touch, but you press even closer to him- eyes wide but holding a little spark of pleasure and want in them that anybody could see.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he encourages with a grin. “Don’t be shy! You can ask Santa fer anything.”

He wasn’t quite sure that your eyes could manage to get wider, but they do. They widen even more and the softest, cutest little noise leaves you as you bite your lip and squirm in his lap. The motion makes his hand slide up just a little higher along your thigh and neither he nor you move to put it somewhere a bit more appropriate.

“Any- anything?” you ask, voice almost a little squeaky and still so, so shy. You bite your lip again and your legs spread just a bit wider.

It’s Fatgum’s turn to have his eyes widen and he unconsciously leans over you a little, turns you in a subtle move so your parted, pretty legs are a bit more hidden from the others.

You’re bold- bolder than he thought you’d be. Hell, maybe he’ll get your number and take you out to drinks too.

And maybe he’ll even be able to bring you home for the night.

(There’s really no maybe about it- not when you’re blushing and pressing against him, spreading your legs for him even though anyone at the party could see.

You must be one hell of a fan.)

“Anything, sugar,” he tells you- meaning it, hoping that you’ll give into the temptation. “Anything at all.”

You bite your lip and you squirm a bit- lashes fluttering as your hips move against the hard bulge pressing against your soft flesh.

“What if I- what if I want you, Santa?”

Your cheeks flare bright after the bold question and you squeak after, bury your face into his chest with the cutest look of embarrassment all over your face. He can’t help but laugh- nice and hearty and amused- and he grins as you let out a muffled whine against him.

“Well, aren’t you a gutsy thing?” he teases- still grinning, reaching a hand to tilt your pretty, flushed face up toward him. Despite the embarrassment, you still press into his touch and Fatgum’s eyes draw half-shut whenever your lips part and your lashes flutter. “I like it.”

You nuzzle into his palm so shyly whenever he cups your jaw and- like the good girl you are- you allow the tip of his thumb to slip between your lips whenever he traces over them with it.

“Yeah, yer a really good girl,” Fatgum praises. “And you can have me- you can have whatever ya want.”

You tremble against him- a tiny little noise slipping from you- and his heart pounds a little harder when your lips wrap fully around his thumb, when you suckle at the glove clad digit and look up at him with the cutest, sweetest look in your sparkling and adoring eyes.

Shit, you’re just the most precious little thing.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he can’t help but to breathe out. “Feels like I’m the one gettin’ a present.”

You flush and you giggle quietly- his thumb slipping out your mouth when you do. Fatgum hums in approval whenever you smile at him shyly. You peek over you shoulder quickly and Fatgum takes a moment to scan the room too.

Everyone’s too distracted by their own shenanigans- Midnight is entertaining people with karaoke, Kirishima is trying to drag Tamaki into the fray, Present Mic is harassing Eraserhead, and all the other heroes are busy drinking and flirting with each other.

No one’s paying a damn speck of attention to Fatgum or the little cutie he has perched on his lap.

Perfect.

When he looks back at you, your eyes are on him- pleading and so sweet, lit up with a darling desire. You bite your lip as he looks over you and then your hands are reaching for one of his.

They’re so small as they tug off his leather glove- so tiny as they drag his hand between your thighs and up to your mound. You’re so hot there- so warm and soaked through your panties. The tiniest noise leaves you whenever his fingers curl to brush against you and Fatgum has to stifle a groan when your hips give a tiny little rock.

He tugs on your panties- just gently- and a whimper leaves you when his finger traces along your slit, glances over your clit. The quiet whine of “Mr. Fatgum, sir” that you let out is adorable and so is the way your fingers curl into his coat again, how your hips try to buck against his fingers.

“Easy, darlin’,” he mumbles to you. “Be nice and still, little one- lemme give ya what ya want, okay? But ya gotta be quiet and still, alright? Can’t let anyone else catch on. Be good for me, gumdrop.”

A trembling little moan leaves you, but you nod and bite your lip, stay still as he gathers your honeyed juices along his finger. There’s the tiniest jerk of your shoulders whenever he slips the digit inside of you and Fatgum has to bite his cheek when your puffy, silken pussy squeezes around his finger.

Tight and eager- just how he likes ‘em.

“Mm, baby, yer little cunt is so tight,” Fatgum praises- quiet, the words catching with a groan. “Bet ya taste real sweet, too.”

You whimper so, so softly and then squeak when his thumb rubs against your clit, whenever he prods a second finger against your hole.

“D- Da- Mr. Fatgum, sir!”

Oh, shit that whine is so cute. So is your flush, your fluttering lashes, the way your teeth dig into your bottom lip to stifle your little mewls.

He’s pretty sure you almost slipped up, too- almost let yourself call him daddy.

He wishes you had- he would have loved that.

Fatgum slips his second finger into your squishy little cunny and your own claw at him, curl the fabric of his coat tight in your grasp. You have to bury your face against him to hide your gasp and Fatgum has to swallow back a groan when your insides squeeze and flutter around his fingers, when your little body trembles against him.

A look over the top of your bowed head lets Fatgum see that Present Mic is staring over at him- brow cocked high and a smug grin on his face. Fatgum huffs at the man’s leer and curls his arm around you tighter, curls his fingers deep inside of you as he does.

“C’mon, darlin’,” he mumbles to you. “Why don’t we take this to my office?”

Your tiny nod is all he needs for your consent and Fatgum gives your ass a quick little squeeze before slipping his fingers out of you. Your lips tremble with a pout whenever you’re left empty and he grins at the slight glaze in your eyes, how your wet cunt glides over his thigh and makes you breathe in nice and sharp as you scramble off of him.

Your footsteps are unsteady, wobbly and aw, hell, that’s cute as can be.

Everything about you is cute, really- you make him want to scoop you up and smother you with kisses, stuff you full of cum until you’re squealing and oozing it out.

A grin passes over his face as he thinks about that and Fatgum moves to join you, presses his hand to your back and herds you through the party and toward his office.

“Wooo, get it, Fatgum!”

The catcall comes from Kirishima of all people- the boy red cheeked and grinning-and Fatgum can’t help but laugh at it a little even if it makes you squeak and burrow against him, hide your face and embarrassed flush behind your hands.

He’s gonna have to scold his intern- there ain’t no telling how much to drink the kid has snuck.

Ah, he can’t blame him, though- he was young once, too.

Well, cat’s outta the bag, he guesses.

Fatgum cheerily lets his hand wander from your waist down to your hip and he grips it with a hum, propels you forward with a little smack to your rear. The lovetap has you mewling and Fatgum has to stop himself from scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

He ignores a few jeers from the others and he leads you to the office without any delay, nudges you inside and hipchecks the door shut. He takes the time to lock it, but then his focus is solely on you.

It takes two steps to reach you and Fatgum looks down at you with a deep breath- takes in your flushed cheeks and half shut eyes, the excited tremble that ripples through you. You let yourself be pulled against him without a fuss and you’re so sweet with how you whimper, how you curl your fingers into his coat once again and how you melt into his hold.

“Gonna put ya on the desk, darlin’,” he tells you, hands running down to grip under your thighs. A tiny squeak leaves you whenever he lifts you up, but you’re quick to wrap your legs around him- or, try to, at least- and you’re quick to loop your arms around his neck. “Wanna see how ya taste.”

Shyness takes over you again once he plops you down on the desk and Fatgum can’t help but to grin whenever you bite your lip and rub your soft thighs together.

“Yer just the cutest little thing,” he coos to you- hands falling on your knees and spreading them apart. “A real treat fer me.”

You whine, softly, and it’s candy-sweet, filled with embarrassment over being complimented and pleasure over it too.

“Mr. Fatgum...”

A groan leaves him and Fatgum slips down to his knees, spreads your legs even wider and hooks them over his shoulders, pulls you forward until your tiny little cunt is nestled against his face. You whimper whenever he noses against your mound and you whine whenever his tongue glides through your slit, arch your back and knock off his hat as you curl your fingers into his hair whenever he manages to squeeze his fat tongue into your tiny hole.

He had been right- you taste so very good.

“Ah- oh! Mr. Fatgum!”

A grunt leaves him as your hips rock against his face and he coaxes a mewl from you whenever he rubs your clit.

You’re quick to cum as he eats you out and Fatgum groans his approval at the way your honeyed juices coat his face, how your hips twitch against him and jerk as pleasure shudders through you.

He keeps you close even as you try to squirm away- big, strong hands keeping you tight against his face as he eats you from one orgasm to the next. If the party was a little quieter, he’d bet money on everyone being able to hear the way you cry out and shake as he makes you cum again.

Fatgum licks his lips as he pulls his head from you and he wipes off the excess away with his sleeve, stands and looks down at you through half-shut eyes.

You’re gorgeous all laid out on his desk- so flushed and sweet and hazy. There’s just the littlest bit of sweat beaded up around your temples, just the littlest stripe of your soft tummy showing from where your sweater has hiked up. Your chest moves with tiny pants and Fatgum can’t resist leaning down and kissing you, running his hand up your body and pulling your sweater off. You blush when he straightens your headband, but you don’t hide from him- only lean back so he can see you half undressed.

You’re wearing a lacy little number under the sweater- some fancy lookin’ bra all hued in cream and scarlet. It reminds him of a candy cane or peppermint and all of a sudden Fatgum’s mouth is watering, all of a sudden he wants to kneel down again and eat your pretty pussy until the sun comes up.

He wants that, but he wants to do other things too.

Things like taking off your bra and gently teething on your tits and nursing on your cute little breasts until you’re mewling and burying your fingers in his hair again. Things like mouthing along your neck and plunging his digits back into your eager cunt, stretching you open until he thinks you can handle his cock. Things like rutting against your soft thighs and humping against your soaked pussy until you’re writhing and begging, scratching your nails along the velvet of his coat.

“F- fuck- Mr. Fatgum- Sir- Daddy!”

Fatgum groans and he pulls back from you long enough to rip off the sweltering coat, kick away the pants he’s long tugged down.

“Shit, sugar,” he groans out. “Yer so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl.”

The mewl that leaves you is sweeter than syrup, has Fatgum groaning once again.

You graciously- eagerly- part your legs for him when he places his hands to your thighs and Fatgum licks his lips as your back arches, as your head tilts back with a moan.

“Might be a bit of a stretch, baby,” Fatgum murmurs to you, rocking hips and letting his cock tease through your slit. “But a good girl like you can take it- I know ya can.”

The gasp that you let out is adorable, but your whimper is even better.

It’s all trumped, though, whenever you reach your hands down and your little fingers spread your cunt open for him, whenever you look at him through lashes wettened by pleasure and mewl out,

“Please! I can take it! I can be good!”

Fatgum groan and he braces himself over you- his soft belly pressing against yours as he fists his cock and guides it to your soaked little hole.

“Yer already a good girl, darlin’- so fuckin’ good and sweet. Just- just keep bein’ good fer me, okay?”

A whimper and a tiny nod comes from you and you shake as he slowly slides his cock into you.

He almost doesn’t hear your moan, almost doesn’t notice how your hands fall away from yourself just so you can throw a hand back over your head, curl your fingers by your lips- as soon as the tip of his cock slips into you, he gets lost in your wet heat and your gripping need, the eager clenching of your cunt.

You sob, just a little, when he presses further inside and Fatgum hushes you with a kiss, rubs at your clit to try to soothe the sting of the stretch.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts as your puffy insides loosen up just enough to let him rock into you a bit more. “Doin’ so good fer me. Ya like?”

You sniffle and you whimper, tiny hands going to grip his shoulders as you clench around his cock.

“I- I do! Mr. Fatgum, you’re so big! Feels good!”

Well, shit. You’re really something else.

It’s his turn to flush from the praise and Fatgum does in spades- pink gathering along his cheeks and down his chest as he groans and rocks a bit harder, sheathes his cock even deeper inside of you.

He has to remind himself to be careful, to keep from going too fast and hurting you.

It’s a little hard, though, when you mewl and beg for more. It’s hard, though, whenever your nails dig into his back and gets him grunting and groaning. It’s hard, though, whenever you grind your hips back against him and let out sweet, stuttered noises, flutter wet lashes and moan.

“Mr. Fatgum, please! Wanted this for so long! It’s so good! Love it! Want more!”

Shit- fuck.

It’s been a long time for him and it’s been even longer since he’s had such a sweet thing- someone so eager and cute, so obviously enamored with him.

“God, sweetheart,” he groans, “yer so fuckin’ good. Ya gonna come on my cock fer me?”

“Yes! Yes!”

And you do cum on his cock- you squeal and tremble underneath him, dig your nails into his back as your cunt clamps down around his cock like a goddamn vice. Fatgum groans as you whine and his hips jerk again you, stutter as he works his cock deep inside and sheathes himself in your warm, spasming pussy.

The stretch has your eyes widening and threatening to roll back, your back arching up. It’s dramatic and it’s hot and he grunts as he starts fucking you through your pleasure and past it, as he has you going from one orgasm to the next.

You sob and you cling to him and Fatgum groans as your gummy insides pulse around him- your pussy feels like it’s trying to keep inside and he’s more than okay with that; he’d like to stay buried in your snug, warm cunt for forever.

The sounds in the room start to border on obscene- the slap of his balls against your leaking cunt so wet and sharp, your whines and mewls so loud and sweet, his grunts so low and deep. He can’t hear the party going on over all the noises, but that’s okay- that’s more than okay.

Shit, can anyone hear what’s going on?

(He doesn’t think he cares if they can.)

“Darlin’, if ya keep squeezin’ me like that I’m gonna come. Ya want me to come?”

“Yes! Yes! Daddy please come! Wanna make you come! Want you to come!”

How can he refuse such a sweet little thing?

Fatgum groans and he picks up the pace, accidentally smushes you a bit as he presses his lips against yours and grabs onto your soft thighs, grips them tight as he fucks into your squelching pussy.

“Shit, yeah,” he groans. “I’ll come for ya- come for my good girl.”

A sob wracks through you and you grab onto him- desperate and so fucking needy, so tight as he spears his cock into you again and again and again. He gets close- so close- and tries to pull out, but you shake your head frantically- look up at him with blown out eyes and lips parted with a whine, hands scrabbling along his back and legs wrapping around his waist.

“N- No! Inside! Please!” you beg, locking your ankles and pleading so prettily.

Oh, fuck.

Fatgum grunts and he pistons into you- once, twice, three times before he starts to come. A wail of keen leaves you and he growls as he feels your pussy clamp down and spasm around him, as he ruts into you and fills you up to the very brim.

He smothers you in hot, sticky kisses as he humps his cum deep inside of you and they muffle your tired coos and mewls and whimpers- your own lips moving against his in sloppy, tired little movements that would make him grin if he wasn’t so lost in how perfect your warm cunt feels around his softening cock.

When he does slide out, it’s with a wet pop and a groan. The sight of his cum trickling out of your fluttering hole is nothing short of hot to him and your whiny protest is nothing short of cute either.

You twitch on the table- tired and wrecked, sleepy with a dreamy little look on your pretty face- and Fatgum huffs with a tiny little smile, breathes in deep as he tries to catch his breath.

God, this Christmas party was a perfect idea.

A soft little noise slips from you whenever he fixes your panties and Fatgum licks his lips as the fabric immediately grows wet- his oozing seed staining the fabric dark and making it sticky against your cunt.

“Mr. Fatgum...”

He hums at the cute little mumble and moves to help you sit up, helps you pull on the sweater and takes in the tired whine you let out with a grin.

“Ah, sugar, was that a little too much for you?”

You shake your head with a weak little motion and he lets you slump against him, lets you yawn. The smile you give him whenever you tilt your head back to peek up at him is soft and adoring, hazy and sweet.

“No...no- it was perfect. Thank you, Mr. Fatgum, sir...”

It’s so cute that he can’t help but laugh and grin, can’t help but to press a kiss to your flushed cheek.

“Merry Christmas, darlin’. Make sure yer good this year too, yeah?”

A tiny giggle leaves you and you nod- smile growing sweetly as you close your eyes and yawn again.

“I’ll be sure to do so. I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, Santa.”

Fatgum snorts and he grins, ruffles your hair.

“I know ya won’t. Yer a good girl after all.”

You grin up at him- tired but pleased- and Fatgum kisses your cheek before helping you off the desk.

Yeah, he’s sure you’re going to be good.

But he might have to check up on you every now and then- just in case.

Grinning at the thought, Fatgum reaches for his clothes and starts to dress again so he can join the party once more.

[wishingfornever]

12/9/17 – No Contact:  Chaos Through Hopefully

I was late for work today.  Phone stopped charging and died in the middle of the night.  I woke up at 8, right on the dot.  I was supposed to be at work at 8.  I was 11 minutes late.  Work was rough but also kind.  It’s hard to explain.  A lot of pressure, a lot of stress, but also mercy.

I was offered a job at Pets Mart.  I was surprised and I’ll apply for it in a bit.  This is the second job I needed.  I was also given a $5 tip.  I was surprised.  People like to see me smile.  Not sure why. They see me laughing and think nothing of it.  If they knew what I was thinking… they’d think I were mad.  I’m not mad, though. Just upset.

Still, crazy will always be the word they use.  It’s a simple term with a broad enough meaning to expedite trivial matters with any potential threat.  Everything reminded me of Esther today.  Everything.  Saw a young girl, probably still in high school.  Had Esther’s body and her hair.  And no, I didn’t think of her sexually so fuck off.  I was just reminded of Esther .  Had her outline at least.  Of course, this girl was African-American.  Sort of like that porn star from a long while back.  But this girl was obviously clothed.  Had glasses, too.

And of course, Pets Mart… the place I couldn’t even stand in.  They offered me a job.  They offered me a job THERE.  Why?  Why couldn’t I get a job offer from anywhere else? It’s a gift horse. I’m staring it right in the mouth.  I really shouldn’t.

On the way back, I almost stepped on a lizard.  I had to force myself to step over it.  After today, I think I’ve earned some karma points. Hopefully, I’ll use it to get Ariel here.  We’ll see.

Oh, and at work?  Before I left.  I forgot my hat and had to go back.  A dumb Santa hat.  Everyone thinks I’m festive because I wear it, but no.  I couldn’t take a shower today so rather than deal with bed hair, I decided to just wear the fucking hat.  Of course, it adds color to the dark, empty void that is the Dollar General Uniform.  At least I have some say in what I wear.  Still, has to be black.  A splash of color is what’s needed most.

I guess I’m growing to like my hat.  It’s red, so that’s nice.  I prefer blue.  Esther does too, but she likes black a lot.  And she isn’t fond of Pets Mart but she wanted to work there.  Do good to the animals.  She’s kind like that.

I wish she decided to come here instead.  I’d get a job and then I’d do everything I could to get her a job there.  She’d be so happy. She deserves to be happy.

Oh, I just remembered.  I was super dehydrated today.  My lips cracked and everything.  Before I left, I decided to quell my thirst with coffee and pringles.  Bad idea.  It meant I had to walk 20 minutes even MORE dehydrated and I needed to poop.  Lel.

Just finished watching a playthrough of Doki Doki Literature Club.  It was… intense.  But also touching.  The music at the end.  A sort of melancholy feeling.  What happened between Esther and myself, I couldn’t help but relate the characters with either her or myself. Eh… I really shouldn’t.  It’s bad that I can relate, after all. The intensity and extremist nature of Yuri in the end and the blind devotion of Monika.  Even after everything fails, still devoted. Pretty unhealthy, yet I see myself in both their shoes.  If Esther saw them or played, she’d perhaps see me too. She’d be horrified by the game whereas I sit here, empathizing. Perhaps I’m as ugly as I appear to Esther.  A truly wicked soul.  My intentions are selfish, my emotions are extreme.

So… uncomfortable bringing this up, but I went to the bathroom and… well, it feels like the life has drained from me.  It was unusual. Solid at first then when I thought I was done it was like I had dysentery only a few minutes later.  All I had to eat today was those pringles.  What I had to drink?  Coffee, SUPER sweet tea, and two glasses of water.  Maybe I should eat something.  I still have two apples.

Why did I grab them?  Why did I think I’d need them?  Because they’re quick and easy?  Yeah, that’s no longer enough.  I’m not sure I like apples anymore.  Ariel doesn’t like apples either, unless with cinnamon.

That was a pain in the ass.  Applied for a second job.  I don’t know my manager’s last name.  I just know his first.  I’m not going to reveal it but it’s super surprising.  For his protection.  Thing is, I’ve been considering going back and changing all the names. If I do, I’d let the tumblr know in a later post of what’s been changed.  Maybe saying “Stephen” is dumbass.  That’d be my name for the obvious reasons. Of course, the current “Calming Tides and Raging Storms” Tumblr that I tried to get Esther to see… it has her and my picture as the avatar.  If I do go for the whole total identification protection thing, I’d have to blur out the image.  And her nationstate’s flag is the background.  So… hrm… Fuck.  I’ll figure it out.  If you go to the Calming Tides and Raging Storms, you’ll know Esther’s real name.  I mean… I’ll change the password if I remember.  If you can’t get in then the name was changed but the password wasn’t.  And you’ll know everything has been blurred.  Oh, I’d have to edit the Tumblr posts there, too.

That’s a lot to do.  Eh…  I’ll message her once more.  See how she feels about it.  That’d be next year, so maybe she’ll calm the fuck down and learn some FUCKING manners and give me just a few minutes.

Oh, I just remembered.  I was wondering how it’d work if I joined the military.  I mean… how would I be able to upload posts?  I’ll have to outsource to someone.  Maybe my sister?  I’d rather not have Ariel see this, so she’s out of the question.  Esther wouldn’t fucking do it if Marx himself came down to ordained it as necessary, proclaiming she’d be the only one to do it.  Because of course not. I don’t think I’d want Adela to do it, either.  She’d realize I’ve been fucking crazy.  She knows I’ve started this journal.  I told her.  She doesn’t know what I write in here, but I’d rather her not think I’m a shitty person, too. I doubt she would, but I can’t be certain about anything anymore.  My life is chaos, embodied by the futility of catching ash and embers in the wind as I attempt to prevent further fires from spreading.  I’m overwhelmed and I can’t slow life down.  I can’t prevent life.  I can only watch.

I might go to bed early.  That way, I can take a shower in the morning.

I like the idea of having two jobs.  Eventually, I’ll quite one. Probably the worst one.  I’ll eventually quit the other, of course. In the meantime, I’ll get OUTFITS!!!  YAAAAAAY!!! Fuck you if you think I’m gay.  Yes, I do enjoy fashion.  No, I don’t like sucking dick.  Fuck you for thinking that.  Of course, considering this will be in fucking Tumblr, no one will be thinking that.  In fact, they’ll probably berate me for assuming gay people like fashion for some reason.

Ignoring my somewhat inflammatory comments, these outfits aren’t street clothes.  They’d be for Airsoft.  That’s one thing, I really like military uniforms.  I prefer the earlier uniforms with color rather than drab, mind you.  The outfits consist of two pants, five shirts, and three pairs of socks.  I think I mentioned it.  They consist of tan, olive drab, and navy blue.  I’m excited for the navy blue.  Of course, I’ll be getting COMBAT shirts which are basically polos with zippers.  I wasn’t going to get them, but I wanted to do the MN thing as I’m sure I mentioned but then I realized something. Shmedium.  This was the word I heard back in Amarillo.  A good coworker of mine.  I wish we stayed in contact, but I was really depressed then and I failed to meet up with anyone. Just became more introverted.  Regardless, I wore a shirt that was too small and it made me look buff.  I’m naturally an Extra Large, even without this MASSIVE weight gain that I’ve acquired within the last few years, and this shirt was a large.  Then I weighed a bit more than my current goal, which is 200 if you remember.  I think I weighed like 220?  I looked REALLY muscular, though, because I have an impressive outline.  Not to brag or anything.  Didn’t have abs though… was still a bit pudgy, you see.  Still, I looked far better and that smaller shirt helped.

He called it a Shmedium.  I intend to get BELOW that weight and these combat shirts are supposed to be a bit tight.  A comment suggested get a size smaller so I will.  If it’s too small, I’ll return them and get a larger one.  I’ll have to pay shipping and handling again, but it’d be worth it.

I actually got Esther a uniform.  Also for airsoft.  I think I told this story.  I loved it.

She tells me her waist is a certain size.  I check the chart, she qualifies as a small.  I assume nothing of it because her top that I ordered was a small as well.  However, the pants?  Well, I discovered waist sizes to men is different to the sizes for women.  They measure different parts.  These small pants couldn’t get over her ass.

Esther has… an AMAZING ass.  Like, my god.  It’s a piece of art.  Her trying to put the pants on, pushing her buttcheeks up while making no gains… I couldn’t think.  It’s a persistent memory.  I just think of her trying to pull it up and saying through frustrated laughter, “It doesn’t fit!” and I just remembered… how attracted to her I was.  I wanted to just bite her, to play with her butt a bit.  I wanted to fuck SO badly.  But, I kept my calm.  I contacted the site and set up a return.

God, she has such a beautiful ass.  Just amazing.  Like BAM and it’s perfect.  I wrote a playful letter saying my gf at the time uses different sizes.  I thought it was funny and they’d laugh, but I wonder now if she thought I was insulting her just to insult her.

This was a good memory… I don’t want to ruin it with that.  I had a lot of good memories of her.  I wish she had them of me, too.  :/

Anyways… I don’t mean to just… I guess objectify her.  There was a lot to her to love.  She was very kind.  Very compassionate.  Very hopeful. It felt like she could brighten the world.  She was quirky and clever.  I just wish I had more time with her.

It feels like everything at work reminds me of her.  I’m going to get the job at Pets Mart.  Or… Petsmart?  I don’t know, I just know I’ll get a job there because life has it’s own sense of humor.  A place that I felt as if I were going to just break down and cry will hire me.  I will work there.  I will work there with a smile.  The customers and my coworkers will never know that I feel like I’m dying inside.  Not because I hate my job but because I’m reminded of my greatest failures.

There is no redemption for what I’ve done.  And I have to just… live with that.

I decided to take my mind off this.  I took a long list of people whom I feel comfortable enough to share this information with without fear that they’ll be hurt by what’s said and isn’t too close. Family was excluded, Ariel was excluded, and others.  Unfortunately, the friends that were left weren’t close enough.  Except for maybe one.

She knew about my depression back when I worked with her.  I tried to hide it but she knew.  She understood.  She was a coworker from Dunkin Donuts.  She was great fun to work with, perhaps my favorite coworker there.  That may sound like me kissing ass because SHE MIGHT read this, but the coworkers I remembered either stole from the register or fucked in the freezer.  Of course, not all of them did that but enough did.

One manager told me that I was going to be short because he was going to take money from MY register.  I, however, didn’t want that to happen so I cheerfully informed him I’d normally be fine with it (I wouldn’t be) but I was short earlier this week and the BIG manager gave me a warning.  He was kind enough to not take my money.

Honestly… he wasn’t that bad.  I mean, he was a thief and I think he did a lot of drugs, but he was kind enough to consider my problems.  What I told him was the truth, but of course I didn’t like the idea of him taking money from the register so it was sufficient enough to screen my distaste as an excuse.

I had another manager who was a fucking dick.  I thought he and I were getting a bit better and I tried to overlook his assholish nature but… I couldn’t.  He was just too much, even for me.  I like trolling, too.  However, I dislike using POWER for trolling.  When I give someone a hard time, they either have equal footing or an advantage.  I give a Nazi some shit on the internet, it’s usually in a comment section filled with other Nazis jacking each other off. If I comment on a Facebook page’s post, I don’t harass the page but I work towards the page realizing they’re stupid before blocking me in anger and disgust.

Of course, lately I haven’t been trolling so much.  The last few pages who blocked me tended to block me over the LITTLEST of things.  Like, really?  Fuck those guys.  I wasn’t even starting shit and that set you off? Power corrupts.  I believe in debate over the definite.  I ran a Facebook page that had a rather large following for a little while.  I never banned anyone.  NEVER.  In fact, I unbanned a lot of people because this Brazilian guy posted a picture of a naked lady and it triggered everyone.   Ariel was one of those people.

I believe everyone is capable of reason and civility.  They can be spoken with, they can be calmed down, they can understand, they can propose.  Not everything must be this or that.  Ariel was proof of reason and civility.  She was banned because she was angry and yelling at my Brazilian colleague.  Rather than hear her out, he blocked her making her more pissed.

I read what she wrote, unblocked her, and spoke with her about it.  I did this with others.

People aren’t that complicated.  They just want to be heard out, most of the time.  I could reason with a Trump voter easy.  I, as a Communist, can engage a Capitalist through intellectual debate.  I have, actually.  A friend I respect quite dearly has treated me fairly and I have treated him fairly.  We agree on nothing yet respect each other anyways.  Not that hard.

Well, what about Nazis? Fuck Nazis, alright?  I know, it sounds hypocritical but their entire stance opposes what I just said.  The extermination of Jews and Communists isn’t something to try to reason with.  Oh, what’s that?  They also hated Capitalism, too? They did.  Fascists hated Capitalism.  It was Francisco Franco’s brand of Fascism that embraced the idea of Fascism working side by side with Capitalists.  Spain eventually joined NATO under his leadership.  Go figure.

Everyone can be reasoned with.  Everyone can be spoken to.  But the thing is, they have to first want to be reasoned with.  They have to want to be spoken to.  The Fascists, they do not want to discuss or debate. Instead, they demand.  In their demands includes the destruction of everything that isn’t them.  They push for a singular idea and will abuse the system until it is achieved.

Of course, the same could be said about Communism.  So, what makes the Communist different from the Fascist? The Anti-Communist as well as the Fascist will state, “Nothing separates the two” as the Anti-Communist doesn’t care and the Fascist recognizes their own shortcomings by allowing Communism to be compared to their vile ideology.  But, to those who aren’t so biased will note that Communism doesn’t demand the extermination of entire populations. It can, but it’s not required.  It intends to abolish the classist systems that rule.  Communism upsets the status quo.

Communism is preventable.  Close the wage gap, provide for your workers.  The bullshit in the United States?  This is what will lead to a Communist Revolution.  The people are being oppressed, so they will inevitably seek justice, be it through peaceful means or by force.  Fascism requires only might.  Giving the Fascist even a bit of strength will lead to them finding more strength.  Then more.  Then even more; more until they’ve achieved total control.

Communism may only be stopped through kindness.  Fascism may only be stopped through strength.  That’s the difference.

Oh, I just got an Email from PetSmart.  I don’t meet their requirements?  Really?  I guess I won’t work there after all.  What the hell were they looking for?  That’s dumb.  >:C

Whatever. I’ll apply for the HEB.  And Walgreens.

And done.  Walgreens is dumb.  I put in my password, wouldn’t take. Had to wait a bit because it locked me out.  After I was done waiting, I reset my password.  Tried setting it to a password that was the same as my old password.  That didn’t take, of course.

I REALLY want a second job.  Rather, I need it.  I need to have enough money for Ariel and me.  I want to get my $200 worth of clothing as well, but I NEED to be prepared for Ariel .  Need is greater than want. Of course, my need is subjective.  More a strong want right now, but not the point.  I will have enough money to take Ariel places.  I probably won’t drive much, which she really likes driving… but not the point.  Haven’t brought her up with Adela, yet.  Probably won’t happen till April.

Anyways, I just got Adela a Christmas present.  $50 from Amazon, a fake fur coat thing.  It’ll look like one I got my mom.  She’ll love it. I was concerned because I didn’t want to spend until I knew I had enough money in the bank or that the job finally paid me, but whatever. I have 120 in my account.  Rather, I had 120. Now it’s more like 70.  I want to try to keep at least 300 in my account at all times once I reach it.  It’ll slow down with the rent and me purchasing food, but I should be fine.  There were other things I was hoping to purchase before Christmas but if I don’t have enough, then that’s fine.  It can wait.

I think I mentioned this, but there is this airsoft gear.  I want to get it.  It’s from this little Russian shop called “The Grey Shop.”  And this gear is from a company called… Ariel!  Yes, I know.  It’s supposed to be all caps so it’s more ARIEL!!!  So, Ariel and ARIEL!!!  Gear from ARIEL!!! will be great to get because it’s Russian so it’s immediately non-NATO gear so it would work with my intent to use it for MN and that photoshoot.  I also think getting ARIEL!!! gear would be hilarious if I ever airsoft with Ariel .  Think about it!  I’d be airsofting with Ariel in ARIEL!!! Sounds hot.  ;) Anyways, yeah…  I actually like their gear, too.  Their tan is just dark enough to not be boring.  Of course, it’s kind of expensive being from Russia but it’d definitely be worth it.  And I think it will cover my stomach.  I have an abnormally long torso, so if I get a tactical vest it’ll look small on me.  I’ll adjust it so it doesn’t look too bad on me.

Of course, I’ll have to get pouches for it.  That’s the hard part. My ambition holds me back on that.

Whatever. Right now, I need to do dishes and then go to bed.  I have to wake up and go to work tomorrow.  I’d rather start the day with a shower.  Good night.  :D