#so many new ones suck buy one just a couple of years old!!

[aprillikesthings]

if you have period underwear

and/or re-usable fabric pads, a lot of people will tell you rinse them the moment you take them off, or soak them before washing. I have never managed to do this consistently??

(Also the times I rinsed them out I was like...okay but now I have soaking wet, still not-clean period undies. Now what.)

But if you just toss them (dried blood and all) into your normal cold-water wash they don't always get clean enough plus, I dunno, it feels Icky to me. (YMMV, if you're using them only for backup to tampons/cups it's not a big deal; but when I've worn just period undies on a heavier day....oof.)

But what DOES work for me:

First, I just wash them in a normal (low-water) cold water wash by themselves.

Then, when that cycle is over, I add the rest of my cold water load and run it normally. So the pads/undies get washed twice: once by themselves, and once with a normal load of clothes.

(And I always air-dry them.)

Obviously this isn't a great option if you pay for every load you wash--I have laundry hook-ups and own my washer.

ALSO I have ADHD if I'm not sitting in the living room where I can hear the washing machine sing its little "I'm done!" song, I set a timer to remind me to flip the laundry otherwise I would NEVER REMEMBER

[eddiesxangel]

Show Me | Older!Eddie x F!Virgin Reader

Anonymous asked: I loved your post about Eddie x virgin!reader so much💞Do you think you could write older!Eddie x virgin reader?

Anonymous asked: Inexperienced!reader giving Eddie a handjob and a blowjob for the first time?

Cw: ten-year age gap, sex toys, female masturbation, the reader is kinda a perv (oops), Eddie is also kinda a perv (oops), reader first time giving oral, reader first time having sex, pet names.

CW: 7.1k It's long again, I'm sorry! idk how to do short

Moving trucks have been parked in your neighbour's driveway for about two days. You had always liked the Kaminskys, but they were older and now moving to a retirement community. This is the second day of moving trucks, and the new owners are moving in today. You have yet to receive much information from the realtor regarding the new neighbours, but you hope they'll be pleasant. You had already baked something to welcome them to the neighbourhood, in hopes that it could be a younger family or couple. Perhaps someone closer to your age?

You moved to this town around three years back when you received your first job offer after completing your college degree. You had saved up enough money to buy a one-bedroom house for a very affordable price. Although it required some repairs, you were happy with it because it allowed you to decorate it according to your liking. You loved the neighbourhood even if you were the only twenty-five-year-old on the block.

As you looked out from behind your front rooms curtains, you could see the movers unloading a big moving truck. There was one person among them who really caught your attention. You had never seen him before. It was a small town and you lived in a quiet suburb by the water in the south of Michigan. Everyone knew everyone, and you hadn’t seen this man before.

He appeared to be in his mind to late 30s and had a muscular build. His brown wavy hair was tied back in a low bun that connected with the five o clock shadow in his face. He was wearing a tight black ribbed tank top that showcased the tattoos covering both his arms and hands. He was hot... Way too hot not to have not ever been seen or talked about in your small lakefront town. Upon further observation, it became apparent that he was not wearing the attire of a mover.

Oh my god. He must be the new neighbour.

“Please be single, please be single, please be single,” you chanted as you hastily went to your closet in search of an outfit that looked cute so that you could introduce yourself.

You took your time getting ready; he obviously needed time to unload, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him…. And whoever else might be moving in.

God, you hoped he didn’t have a wife or whatever.

You shook your head to get rid of your rambling internal thoughts. You took a deep breath and told yourself to chill the fuck out. You could do this. You’ll go over in your sweet little sundress, introduce yourself, and offer him the chocolate cake you baked…

You weren't as excited as you were last night while baking it, now you were just nervous. You imagined a sweet family moving in with a newborn - a couple your age with whom you could become really close friends. But now, you are faced with a hot and sexy bad boy neighbour who may or may not have a wife and kids. Maybe he wasn’t into women at all?! That would suck. This situation is making you feel extremely anxious and overwhelmed due to your lack of interactions with the opposite sex.

To say you haven’t had a lot of experience was an understatement. You went through high school without a boyfriend. You went through college without a boyfriend. You weren’t into drunken hookups with random strangers for your first sexual experience. You went on many first dates, but nothing ever came of those many first dates. So you waited. And waited.

You thought that maybe you would meet somebody through work and then it would happen, but you’ve been so caught up with working and renovating your house your social life has taken a step back.

Of course, you wanted to find someone. To finally be with someone in a sexual way. To give yourself wholly to someone. Nothing ever went past kissing and or being felt up. But that was the extent of your sexual experience with another person.

Your sexual experience with yourself, on the other hand, was pretty standard. You've got your toys to get by. The first time you gave yourself a real orgasm from the vibrator you bought, it changed your world. Slowly, you worked your way up to toys you could insert once you got a little braver. So technically, yes, you hadn't slept with another person, but now you were more than ready to explore and get out there. You wanted that connection with someone.

So, about half an hour after the moving truck left, you worked up the courage to walk over and knock on the front door. You gave yourself a once-over before leaving. You wore a white sundress with tiny red cherries that fell mid-thigh, your hair was pulled back with a matching red hairband, and you had a fresh, subtle makeup look.

With a deep breath, you held that cake with all your might to ensure you didn't drop it and you simply knocked on the door.

"Just a second," You heard a deep voice call out. A few long seconds later, the door opens, and you're face to face with a wet, shirtless man in just a towel. As you suspected, it was the man you saw unloading the boxes.Fucking hell, He was attractive, with a toned body covered in tattoos. Your gaze drifted to his towel hanging low on his hips. -"Oh shit, sorry, let me just uh- I'll be right back," He sputtered as he realized he was basically naked in front of a young woman, most likely his neighbour.

"Sorry, I can come back later!" to try to fight off the blood rushing to your face.

"No- no, just, uh-hang on!' You hear him yell from inside the house. He came back out wearing black sweatpants which he had cut himself to make into shorts and a plain black tee shirt.

"Hi." He smiles as he walks back onto the front porch where you stood.

"Hi, I'm sorry. I should have waited a little longer to come introduce myself." You laugh uncomfortably.

"Nah, it's okay; not every day I'm greeted by a pretty girl with a cake." He smirks.

"What? Oh yea, I uh- just wanted to welcome you and uh your...wife?"

He shakes his head no.

"Your partner?"

Another no.

"Kid?" you try one last time. And he smiles with a chuckle.

"Anyway, I baked a cake just to say welcome." You shoved the plate into his chest, almost smushing it into his shirt.

"Thank you, that's very kind."

"You're welcome. So, um, I guess I'll get going; leave you to it." You turn to walk down the steps.

"Wait! What's your name?" you wince. You're so nervous you didn't even introduce yourself.

"I'm sorry." You giggled uncomfortably.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he smiled. His smile was infectious; you smiled back and gave him your name.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Um- thanks." You shy into yourself.

"So you said you live next door?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm just over at forty-four." You motion over your shoulder to your house.

"You live there with your folks?" He cocks his head.

"No, Mr. Munson. It's all mine, mine alone." You giggle.

"You don't look old enough," he squints suspiciously.

"I would like to have you know I am twenty-five." You say proudly.

"Oh well, pardon me." He smiled. This made Eddie feel much better about being so attracted to you. God forbid you were still living at home with your parents. He would feel like a total creep.

"Anyways, I uh should get going," you point over your shoulder.

"Oh, ok, well, um, once I'm done setting up, please stop by whenever. I could use a familiar face around... being new to town and all."

"Sure thing, it was nice meeting you. Mr. Munson." you smile.

"Please call me Eddie!" He called as you walked back over to your house,

"Enjoy the cake!" You give a small wave.

"Oh, I will." Before you turn back, you watch as he takes a finger, dips it in the icing, and puts it in his mouth without breaking eye contact... you hadn't witnessed anything so sensual. You almost trip over your sandals as you scurry back into your house.

All of your interactions with Eddie over the next week were flirtatious. He managed to make your heart beat faster than any man had before.

After a week and a half, Eddie finally organized the house. His furniture was set up, and most of the moving boxes had been emptied. He would see you when you came home from work in the evenings as he sat on his porch with a cigarette.

"Hey, Eddie," You would blush,

"Hey, sweetheart" He would smile back without fail.

If anyone else were to call you that, you'd want to clock them; however, coming out of Eddie's mouth? Somehow, it made you swoon.

"Hey, um, you don't have to, but would you want to join me for dinner? Tonight? I am sure you're exhausted from unpacking, and I'm a pretty good cook... unless you hated my cake so feel free to say no.-" You rambled on.

"I'd love to join you for dinner. That's very sweet of you to offer." This was so new for Eddie. Neighbours being neighbourly. He was always the outcast in his town growing up. Now, at thirty-five, he is finally saved up enough to get out of town, start fresh, and open his own autobody shop. Have an actual house of his own, not that he wasn't grateful for his uncle and the trailer park.

Here, he could be anyone he wanted to be. He met some of the townspeople, and they seemed nice enough when he told them he would be taking over for Mr. Sanders's mechanic shop.

"Okay, great! I'm just going to get changed, I'll leave the door open; feel free to come in and make yourself at home whenever you're ready." You motioned to him and his cigarette."

"Thanks, Sunshine." He smiled that smile you couldn't overcome, and you rushed inside to find a n outfit that didn’t scream ‘I work for corporate America.’

You made your way up to your loft, which doubled as your bedroom that overlooked the living area and kitchen. You were in the middle of stripping when you heard the front door open; only then did you realize that when you told him to make himself at home, you had forgotten the minor detail that he would be able to see you changing. You scurried into your walk-in closet with a squeak so he wouldn't have dinner and a show.

"Sunshine?" He asked, walking into your home.

"I'll be down in a minute!" You yell as you scramble to find your jean shorts.

"Take your time." He walks around your home, observing your picture gallery.

"Help yourself to a beer or whatever you want in the fridge."

"Thanks."

As you walk back down your stairs, you see Eddie sitting on your couch, beer in hand. Man-spread with an arm around the top of the sofa. You wished you could be by his side, arm around you instead.

"Good, you made yourself at home."

"Well, Sweets, I am a good listener." He tilted his head back, taking a swig from the bottle. You watched his Adam's apple bob in his long throat, and you thought about what it would feel like to kiss it.

"Any dietary restrictions?" You ask, shaking yourself from your dirty thoughts.

"Nah..." He shakes his head. "So, how did you swing a place like this at your age?"

It felt like a dig; maybe he just saw you as a kid... you would change his mind on that.

"Um, well, I got it on foreclosure; you should have seen it; it was a mess, and everyone wanted to tear it down, but I had a vision. It took a few years, but it's finally finished. I had some help from my grandmother's inheritance, but it wasn't much. So I worked my ass off, and here we are" you spoke as you got together the pots and ingredients.

"Looks like you're doing well for yourself" He smiled as he watched you bend over, unintentionally showing off your cute plump ass.

"Yeah, I guess. So what do you do?" you turn and catch him staring at your behind.

"Well, I just bought the auto shop off Mr. Sander's, so if you're ever in any car trouble, I'm your guy." He smiles.

"Good to know; I know nothing when it comes to my Ruby."

"Ruby?"

"Yeah, my car, she's red, so I named her Ruby."

"That's cute; it suits you."

You don't say much after you start cooking; you are in the zone, ensuring everything is perfect.

"So, what's a girl like you do around here for fun?"

"A girl like me?"

"Yeah, young, beautiful." He takes a bite like what he said was obvious.

"Umm well... work mostly. We have block parties, it is all families around here; my friends all live in the city." You take a sip of beer to settle your nerves.

"This is really good." He motions to the plate of food in front of him.

"You know what? We are having our town's Fourth of July party on Saturday. Everyone goes, you should come! I can show you around more, introduce you to more people, and you can spread the word about your new business opening up next week."

"Yeah, I'd really like that."

After Eddie had thanked you for the meal, he stayed a few more hours; you enjoyed his company. He respectfully kissed you on the cheek goodnight, and you made your way straight up to your room with your toys because you couldn't stand it any longer.

Eddie made you feel like your body was on fire. When he would lightly graze his fingertips along your bare arm or when he would compliment you. His voice alone made your lower tummy tingle.

You pulled out your trusty rabbit that never failed you. You felt dirty, but Eddie had you so worked up you needed relief.

As you lay on your bed, you strip yourself down to nothing. You think about how Eddie’s big, strong hands would tease your body. Working yourself up in your mind. You got wetter by the second.

You imagined how his voice would sound as you imagined the filthy words that would come out of that perfectly plump mouth. That mouth you wanted all over your body.

You imagined, pictured, and played a movie of Eddie and you in your head until you got so worked up that you couldn’t take it anymore. Your clit was screaming at you to be touched. You turned on the toy, it came to life, and your body quivered with anticipation. Your body sprang to life as you slowly worked the toy around your wet hole and then plunged in the dildo. You went deeper and deeper until the little vibrator at the top of the toy hit your clit.

Your body arched up as you felt the waves of pleasure wash through your veins. You pumped the toy in and out of your wet pussy, thinking about your older neighbour. How hot he looked in nothing but that towel when you first met. How your pussy clenched at the sight of his happy trail. How his muscles formed a V travelling right to where you wanted most. You could see his bulge under the white fluffy bath towel wrapped around his waist. You thought about how good his flesh would feel against yours as he pumped his cock inside of you like how you were with your toy.

“Oh, Eddie!” You moaned, forgetting your window was open for the summer breeze you loved to feel in the night.

Your free hand travels to your breast; you tweak your sensitive nipple and moan out again. Your white transparent curtains fluttered with the wind, but you were too wrapped up in your fantasy to notice.

When Eddie got home he went straight into his new bedroom and opened his window because the evening breeze was blowing. He then got ready for bed and was reading when he heard his name. His head shot up, thinking he was hearing things. Then, he listened to another sultry moan. He took off his reading glasses and got up to investigate. His eyes shot wide open as he saw your silhouette through your curtains. He saw your the outline of your body, how your hand worked where he wanted to put his cock the most.

It was wrong, it was so wrong, but now Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of the image in front of him. He tried walking away, and he almost did, but when he heard your sweet voice moan his name again, his feet were planted on the ground. This only confirmed that you were as attracted to him as he was to you. He had thought so tonight at dinner but now he would dare to go for it. Ask you out for real.

Your body felt like it was on fire the way the toy vibrated throughout your body. The pressure kept building and building until you were on the brink. Your body seized as your pussy clamped down on the dildo inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the waves of pleasure washed over your entirety. You caught your breath and knew that Eddie was the one you wanted to be with. He was the one; if he could make you feel this good in your fantasies, you can only imagine how it would be for real.

Eddie was nervous, even though you had confirmed, unintentionally, that you were attracted to him; it had been a while since he asked out about a girl he liked, especially when he was about to ask out one who was ten years younger.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough. You had asked Eddie as a friend, but Eddie would treat it as a date, and he would make sure you knew it was a date. You were excited to spend time with Eddie again after your dinner. It had only been four days, but the anticipation was creeping in. You were so surprised when he showed up at your door with flowers.

"Eddie, you didn't have to do this, but thank you!" you smiled as you sniffed the daisies.

"Of course I did; what kind of date would I be if I showed up empty-handed?" He smirked as he stepped into your house as you went to get a vase for your flowers.

“A date, huh?” You smirked over your shoulder.

“Yes. A date”

“Okay,” you smile as you take his hand in yours and lock up your house.

Eddie was smitten; he had you on his arm, and he felt like the king of the world. You were also smitten. Finally, you were on a date with someone who you were very interested in.

Eddie was funny and charming, and you found out he was really nerdy, but it was only much more endearing. You learned how he played guitar and was in a high school garage band that landed a few gigs at the local bar. The more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you as the night went on, and you enjoyed it. When he wasn't holding your hand, he was holding your waist; if he wasn't holding your waist, his arm was draped over your shoulder.

When the fireworks started, you gazed up at the sky together, wrapped up in one another warmth as the cool breeze of the lake came through. Halfway through the show, he went to kiss the top of your head but you had moved to look up at him, and you caught his lips with yours. Just like the fireworks in the sky, there were fireworks between the both of you. When you both pulled back, you could see in his eyes that he felt it, too.

You finished off the night hand in hand as he walked you home. He kissed you good night like a perfect gentleman, and you bid one another a goodnight.

You were so giddy and excited about Eddie. The more you went out, the more time you wanted to spend with him. You were finishing your third official date when you asked him to join you inside your place for a nightcap.

Things moved quickly once you settled inside. Your drinks were hardly touched. Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you.m as you made out like a couple of horny teenagers in the couch.

Your mind was racing. Why hadn’t you told him you’re a virgin? You invited him in. He’s probably expecting sex… oh god, what if he’s turned off by the fact that you’re not experienced?

“We can slow down if you want.” he pulled away; he had sensed something was off. You became stiff and seemed like you weren't into the makeout anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit nervous… I’m -uh just out of practice…” you shied.

“That’s okay we can take it slow.” He stroked your cheek.

“Are you sure?” You twiddled with his fingers that are resting on your thigh.

“Of course. We can go at your speed.”

“I need to tell you something.” You looked down at the floor. He nodded his head but then spoke because you weren’t looking at him.

“I’ve never… I uh. Shit. I’ve never been with anyone before.”

“What?” Eddie was dumbfounded. How? There was no way he heard you correctly.

“I’m a virgin.” You pull away, but Eddie reaches for you.

“oh wow. I wasn't expecting that... uh- but that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” he comforts you.

“But I do want to,” you rush out. “It’s not like I’m waiting for marriage; it just hasn’t happened…”

“We will go at your pace” Eddie smiled.

“Thank you”

You shift closer to him, wanting to kiss him again, especially after being so cool with everything.

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he was hesitant.

“You sure, sunshine?”

“Yea” you sigh into his mouth.

Eddie grabs the back of your head so he can pull you in closer.

Your hand rested on his knee. As you continued to kiss him your hand bravely traveled up his thigh.

“Woah, hold on, sunshine.” He rested his hand on yours to stop moving.

Oh my gosh, this is it. He had come to his senses. He’s rejecting you.

"You sure you want to go there? Because if we keep going, I will want to do things to you, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not ready."

"I promise. I've waited so long for the right guy, and I'm ready, trust me." If he only knew about your little collection of toys upstairs.

"We don't have to go all the way tonight okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You nodded your head with anticipation. Okay, this was good. He accepted you, and he still wanted to fool around.

You returned to making out on your couch, and the heavy petting ensued. This time, Eddie didn't stop your advances as your hand travelled up his thigh to the crease of his leg and up his crotch. Your hand felt around his bulge through his jeans. There was no denying that he was turned on. The way his cock strained against the thick black fabric should have been illegal. It must have been uncomfortable for him. You just had to let it spring free.

You shifted your weight forward to get closer to him. To feel him. His thighs were thick and defined. You could also feel how hard they were. Your mind wandered to how they would feel to sit on.

Before you knew it, your body was moving before your brain could catch up. One leg draped over his, and you were mounted on Eddie's leg. His deliciously thick leg. You just did what felt right; as you sat down on Eddie, the pressure situated onto your pussy felt so delicious. Your hips started rocking back and forth, building up a rhythm.

You heard and felt Eddie moan in your mouth, and this only enticed you on to keep going, your body driven by pleasure.

"That feel good, baby?" He cooed in your ear before he started kissing down your neck.

"Mmmmhmmm." You nodded frantically, eyes shut, not daring to look at him.

"Good girl, keep going." You felt his big hands grip the top of your ass as he helped you rock your hips against his jeans. The pressure in your lower stomach was building and building; you could feel your orgasm as close.

“Fuck that’s it, use me”

Fuck, you haven't gotten off by dry-humping something in years. Not since you found your first vibrator.

"You close, baby girl?" He whispered against your lips as you kept kissing him. A muffled yes was said, and before you could continue to speak, waves of pleasure washed over your whole body. It stared from your clit and radiated up like it travelled through your bloodstream straight to your head.

Your movements slowed, and you managed to catch your breath; Eddie was still hard as a rock under his jeans, and there was no way you weren't going to help out with that.

You mimicked the way Eddie kissed your neck on Eddie. Your tongue moved the way he moved on your neck. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth. Your fingers worked to open his jeans as you kept kissing on sucking on Eddie's long tattooed neck.

"You don't have to, Sugar," he panted, but you could hear in his tone that he was excited. He wanted this as much as you did... maybe even more.

"But I want to, Eddie." You batted your eyelashes, and you pulled away to let him see your playful pout.

You've watched enough porn and heard enough of your friend's stories to know what you're doing. Sure, the first and only time you saw a dick in real life was in your third year at uni when you tried to go down on the guy you were out with but then got scared, and he walked you home... but you got this! You're an adult woman who knows what she wants, and what she wants is right at her fingertips.

Your little pep talk in your head must have been evident on your face because Eddie started speaking again.

"You done this before?" He asks gently, not judgingly. You shake your head slightly in return.

"You want me to guide you?"

You nodded your head yes. You wanted to be good and do it right.

"Kay," He smiled.

Eddie told you how to work your hands slowly, teasingly at first, not too much but not too little. And no sudden sharp yanking movements at first... You listened, and when you were ready, you moved his boxers down, and his cock was released. It was so big, so much bigger than you thought it would be. The one you saw was a least half the size of Eddie's.

"Oh my god," You gasped.

"It's okay, sugar; he won't bite." Eddie kissed you to make you feel more comfortable. Your hand travelled back to his cock so you could grip it in your hand, not too hard, but not too gently like Eddie had said. The tip produced a bead of precum that was already leaking out, which was a good sign. Your fingers brushed over the head, and Eddie sucked in a breath.

"Did I hurt you?" you dropped his cock from your release.

"No, quite the opposite, baby."

"Oh," you giggled. You picked up where you left off, stroking his cock in your grip, teasing it and feeling it. You were surprised by how velvety the skin felt.

As you continued to make up with Eddie, cock in hand. You suddenly felt braver, and the need to have him in your mouth grew stronger. You slinked your way off the couch so you were sat in front of him on your knees, eyes and mouth level with his behemoth that he calls his cock.

“You sure, little one?" He asked, and you nodded your head with a smile. You moved before your surge of confidence broke.

You sat up a little more and moved his cock towards you, and tentatively licked the tip. You continued your kitten licks a few more times before enveloping his tip in your warm, wet mouth. You peered up at Eddie through your long lashes; he looked like he was enjoying himself, so you must have been doing something right? You swirled your tongue along the tip before dipping you're head down lower to take more of him. Eddie let out a moan, and this made you smile. Yes, you were doing something right. So you continued, lower and lower.

You'd be lying if you didn't say you've tested your gag reflex on one of the dildos you own; where is the fun in that? But now that it was a real mans cock in your mouth, you understood the hype about giving head. You genuinely liked it so far, but that's probably due to Eddie and how comfortable he makes you feel.

"You sure you've never done this before?" He managed to get out.

"uhhhhuuhhhhhh" You moned against his cock and that only jerked Eddie's hip up into you.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that just felt really good, baby" He stroked your head before gripping the back of your hair like he was resisting to push you further down.

"Fuck baby, you're way too good at this to be a virgin."

"You calling me a Liar, Mr. Munson?" You popped off his cock and started jerking him off with your hand again.

"No, no, baby, shit, I mean, ohhh, fuck you're very good for this being your first time."

"Thank you" You put the tip back in your mouth as you sucked on it, but your hands continued to work the shaft.

Eddie didn't last much longer; he told you to take your mouth off but continue with your hands, not wanting to ruin his chance of being with you again if you tasted cum for the first time and you were disgusted. So you listened, wanting to please him; you watched as the white liquid spurted from his shaft and ran down your hands. It was warm and all you could picture was what it would look like leaking out of your pussy.

"Let me get you a towel" You got up when his cock finally stopped spazming.

You walked back over with a warm wet dishtowel, but not before you took his softening cock in your mouth to wipe up the access.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie wasn't expecting that. It was like he had awoken something inside you.

"I wanted to know what you tasted like," you surged before you handed him the towel.

"You, little minx, are going to be the death of me."

Eddie and you had been going out for two months since he moved in, and it had been a week since you gave Eddie your first blow job. It's been on your mind for the majority of the week. So when he asked you out again on a fourth date, you were very excited to see how that one would end. What more would the two of you explore?

Eddie cooked for you; he had a nice romantic dinner in his kitchen. His place was finally fully unpacked, and he gave you a grand official tour of his house afterward.

"You going to show me your bedroom?" You teased.

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" He teased back.

You headed up to his room. You walk inside, and it's pretty spacious; he has a small window off to the side that looks into your house. You stroll around the beige-carpeted floors to see if your suspicions are correct. He does, in fact, have a direct view of your bedroom.

"Ever spy on me, Mr. Munson?"

"mmmmm once or twice." He chuckles as his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body.

"Really?" You got a bit nervous; what had he seen?

"Well, a man can't help his curiosity when he hears a sweet voice moaning his name in the middle of the night."

This makes you gasp. He had to be joking! But then again, your windows are close together, and you love leaving them open...

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He turned you to face him, but you buried yourself into his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. "It's flattering.”

"Eddie" you moaned into his chest."

"I'm serious, knowing you want an old guy like me?"

"You're not even that old," you mumbled.

"Please look at me, Sunshine." He tilted your head up so he could gaze into your eyes. You tried to fight it, but you ultimately gave in.

"I'm embarrassed," You pout.

"Don't be; you don't even need to be embarrassed about your fantasies with me. Understood?"

"Okay." You shy away meekly.

“You want to tell me your fantasies? What you were thinking about when you touched yourself all alone in that bed of yours?”

“I-i-want…“

“It’s okay. I know you’re nervous, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

You paused, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“I want to be taken care of,” you whispered.

“And”

“I want you to be the one to do it…”

"We can definitely arrange that," he said before taking your lips. His tongue parted your lips, making its way into your mouth. He was an excellent kisser. You were getting wet just by his kisses alone.

Eddie backs you up and leads you toward the king-size bed. Your knees give out when they hit the soft mattress, and you fall back, dragging Eddie down with you.

"You gonna let me take care of you, baby?"

"Please?"

"That's my girl." He smiled into the kiss before getting up so you could shimmy back onto the bed so you could rest on the pillows.

Eddie's mouth found yours again as his hands travelled up your body, feeling every inch of your skin. You felt like your body was on fire; the heat radiating between the two of you was evident.

"Can I take this off?" He played with the hem of your sundress.

"You can do whatever you want"

"That's a big promise, little one, gotta be careful with making promises like that." he cocks his head.

"I just want you." You go to take off your dress, but Eddie stops you so he can do it himself. You came prepared; you wore the nicest bra and panty set you owned. A pink lace and satin set. It made your boobs look out of this world the way the fabric cupped you just right. Accentuating every curve.

"All this f'me?"

You didn't answer. You just needed to kiss him again; your bodies melded together as he pressed you further into the mattress. His hands cupped your breasts, moulding and kneading them, and your sensitive nipples began to perk up at his rough touch.

"You're perfect," Eddie sighed as his mouth detached from yours and moved down to your neck. Your body tingled as his soft lips explored the exposed skin.

"Eddie," you moaned out in pleasure. Your hips started to grind up onto Eddie's calf, and he knew he had you right where he wanted.

His hands moved lower, cupping your lace covered heat. His fingers felt so good above the lace that separated the two of you; you couldn't wait to see what they felt like skin to skin.

"You mind if I?"

"Yes!" you said, a little too excited. But Eddie didn't mind. He thought it was so cute the way you were eager to let him explore your body.

"You know how often I've pictured you on this bed?" You shake your head, not biting your lip.

"Oh well, I would picture you like this... no, wait. There would be much less clothing." He wraps his arms around his body to take off his shirt, and he throws it across the room; next to go were his pants. You giggled at his antics. "Much better."

You could feel his cock press against your stomach as he pounced back down onto you. He continued where he had left off, his hand exploring your clothed cunt again, circling your clit above your panties, making you let out a sweet moan. He moved his hands further up until he made his way underneath your panties.

Your hips automatically moved as Eddie's hands explored your wet folds. His free hand pressed your hip, silently telling you not to move, that he will do this for you. You no longer had to be the only one to make yourself feel good. He was here to take care of you.

His thick finger slipped past your folds and up into your tight cunt.

"Oh!" You called out as his fingers broke past the barrier. They were much bigger than you're used to; your hands could never do the same as he was doing now.

"You're ok, baby," he cooed. He worked his hands inside of you, hitting a spot you'd never located before. That made your mind go numb and all fuzzy.

Eddie pulled out of you, and you whimpered in protest but quickly understood he was only taking off your panties for you. You lifted your legs, you helped him out, and he kissed down your leg until he reached your centre.

"May I?" He asked.

"Yes." You sigh.

Eddie waisted not a moment longer. His lips attached themselves to your lower ones. You’d never felt anything like it. The way his soft mouth moved around your clit, kissing and sucking on your swollen bud. You thought I couldn’t get any better than this. Until his tongue made its way onto your body and you cried out in pleasure. Too consumed by Eddie to be embarrassed by how loud you were being.

“Eddie! Oh god, yes, fuck right there!”

“You taste so sweet, even better than I imaged.” Eddie hummed into your cunt mimicking the vibrations your so use to with your vibrating toys. You body was quivering underneath him within minutes. He was way too good at this.

“Please, I’m coming, oh god I’m cuming!” You try to catch your breath with every world but it wa s no use. Eddie didn’t let up until your body was spent.

You watched Eddie sit up, your liquids covering his chin. He smiled as he spoke.

“We are only just getting started baby”

Another whimper left your throat as he pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. It bobbed as it was released from its confines and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in your mouth again.

“I know what you’re thinking, baby. But no, not tonight. I need to feel you.” He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. You watched as he pulled out the condom from its foil wrappings. Your legs clenched in anticipation.

"I'm going to take real good care of you, Sunshine." he rolled it into himself before crawling back over your body.

"Okay, Eddie. I trust you."

Eddie's heart fluttered as you spoke. He was so honoured that you chose him to be your first. He would make you see what you had missed this whole time.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yes, I think so." You nod.

Eddie hovered over you as he took your lips into his once more. You could taste yourself in his mouth and he slowly worked the tip along your slit collecting your natural lube so he could slip himself easily inside.

"Oh my god!' Eddie was thick, so much thicker than you were used to with your silicone boyfriend you had hidden in the drawer. Thank god you were at least used to that because you didn't know how you would have handled this otherwise.

"You're doing so well for me, Sunshine." he praised as his cock dove deeper into you. Your tight cunt felt like paradise.

You told Eddie he could start moving once you were comfortable and adjusted to his size.

You saw starts as his cock plunged in and out of you; it felt so fucking good. You couldn't keep in your pleasure. Moan after moan was music to Eddie's ears. Why had you waited this long to feel something so good?

"So good, fuck, you're so fucking tight." His strokes never let up. He kept the same tempo as his hips snapped into you. Your mouths hardly disconnect unless you need to come up for air. His hands explored under your bra as he pulled a cup down to free your nipple. He moved from your mouth down to take your breast into his mouth, curling your peaked bud just like he did your clit minutes before.

Your body was lit up again; the heat between you both was one thousand degrees. Eddie, was your everything at this moment. You didn't, nor couldn't think of anything but the pleasure he was feeding you.

"More, more, more," You chant as Eddie's cock pounds into you, filling you more than you had ever felt before.

Eddie listened and moved his hands to your clit. Sparking an electrical bolt through your entire body. Your already sensitive clit was pulsing with desire as Eddie continued to pleasure you. With each stroke of his cock and hand, your body couldn't take it anymore, and you began to convulse under him.

"Shit fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Eddie spoke before he realized that he was making you cum undone beneath him.

"Oh, yes! Eddie!"

"That's it, such a good girl, taking me so well. God your pussy is made for me." he spoke as he still used your body for his own pleasure. He didn't take much after your cunt latched down on him like a vice that he was coming right after you. A loud grunt left his lips as he felt a wave of please come over his body. His sensitive cock spurted its hot while cum into the condom that was still inside you.

"Wow," Was all you managed to say. Your brain was mush, but it was the best way possible.

"Yeah, wow," Eddie chuckled as he rolled off of you, out of breath but feeling blissful nonetheless.

"Is it always like that?" You mindlessly asked.

"With me, baby girl? Yeah." He chuckled.

"Wow," You repeated. Your brain is still not fully back down to earth.

"You wanna be my girl Sunshine?"

This snapped you back into reality.

"What? Really?" You turn your head to look at him.

"Yeah, baby girl," He cupped your face, waiting for your answer.

"Yes, Eddie, I'll be your girl"

Part 2

Tag list: @starksbabie @skyline4446 @bl00d-puppy @xxhellfirebunnyxx @amira0303 @ali-r3n @lavendermunson @fairykissesaresweet @minorlystuck13 @feral-pumpkin-energy @asimpforthe80s @flawiette @munsoneightysixx @localemofreak @babybimbo777 @elegantkolalapaper @stayonmars @harringtonxkeery @hellfiremunsonn @eddiestans-blog @sp1dyb0y1008 @nailbatanddungeon @munsonology @shadyhologrambanana

[honestlyspookytyphoon]

Moving In And Moving On

Summary: After months of being for sale, the house across Pascale’s is sold to a young woman, Y/N. When summer comes, both women have grown close and Pascale tries to set her up with her son, Charles. However, unbeknownst to Pascale, Y/N happens to be the woman who broke Charles’ heart not so long ago…

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female reader, but Pascale turned out to be the main character lol

Warnings: Angst (fed by a cruel thing called reality) – Brief mentions of loved ones passing away – The ending sucks, but I could not come up with anything better for now

Word count: +/- 2.5k

Author’s note: This piece was initially written as part 2 to ‘Cake, coffee and…Charles’, but it can also be read as a standalone. English is not my first language, so please forgive me any grammar mistakes and incoherent writing.

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Pascale was surprised when the ‘For Sale’-sign disappeared out of the front garden from the house across hers. The house had been empty since the elderly owners – Philippe and Lydia, two 80-plussers who had been together for over 65 years - moved to a care home several years ago and after both of them passed away, the family decided to sell it.

For the entire 15 years Pascale has been living in the neighbourhood, the house has been there. She warmed up to the elderly couple living across her quite soon and since then, Pascale had been there many times to chat or to help Philippe and Lydia with gardening or housekeeping when they were having health issues. In a way, the house was a part of her life. That is why, in a fit of nostalgia and melancholy, she decided to get the spare key and cross the street to visit the house one last time, before it would be teared down.

Pascale starts her tour in the small garden at the back, in which rare flowers used to blossom. She lively remembered the times when Philippe and Lydia brought her a small bouquet of these flowers to thank her, just because. Now, these flowers are all gone, overgrown by weed. From the garden, Pascale spots the small balcony at the side of the house, from which you have an amazing view of the surroundings. Philippe would sometimes serenade Lydia from below, knowing these romantic things riled her up the wall. Another fond memory of ancient times.

When Pascale enters the house, it is pitch black and musty. She tries to open the blinds but they are rusted. The power is out as well, so she uses the flashlight of her phone to get one last look of the interior. Despite the deck of dust and the fact that it surely is outdated – the house was built somewhere in the 1960’s –, the interior still creates a feeling of coming home, a safe haven. This feeling also appealed to Pascale’s three sons, who visited Philippe and Lydia from to time when they were young as the house looked like their grandparents’, who passed away too soon. When reminiscing the fond memories of her sons with ‘Phi and Ly’, she spots a picture of the five of them on the dresser. She remembers taking the picture during one of the many cookie-baking sprees on Wednesday afternoon: Lorenzo’s eyes were shooting daggers at Arthur for eating all the cookies, Charles was nickering and Philippe and Lydia were looking fondly at the three menaces in front of them. She gifted them the picture on their 60th anniversary and she never forgot their heartfelt reactions. Feeling tears welling up in her eyes, Pascale decides to take the picture with her before exiting via the back door. It was a house full of memories and history and Pascale hoped that the new owners could feel that too.

A few days after Pascale’s visit, the new owner arrived: Y/N, a 26-year-old woman. Since the house Y/N bought was old, much work needed to be done to meet current requirements and increase the comfort. As Y/N is just at the start of her career and many of Y/N’s savings were used to buy the house, she could not afford professional contractors to renovate the house; with the help of her parents and family, she is doing it all by herself.  However, as she has a full-time job, all work needs to be done during the weekends and after work, disturbing the peace in the otherwise quiet neighbourhood. Hence, to make sure her neighbours do not hate her already, she decides to visit them all to inform them on the upcoming works and to discuss planning.

Pascale was the last neighbour she visited. Y/N had knocked on Pascale’s front door a couple of time during the past weeks, but to no avail. The other neighbours had told Y/N about the special bond between Pascale and the previous owners, so she knew that this talk could be hard; she had to be delicate. Not that she held any accountability to Pascale – Y/N bought the house after all – but she had felt similarly when her grandmother’s house was sold; it takes time to accept that a place one grew accustomed is no longer there. Hence, Y/N wanted to show Pascale what the house would look like in the end and ensure her that she did not expect Pascale to accept her immediately. Taking one deep breath, Y/N rang the doorbell of Avenue Paul Doumer 5.

--- Three months later ----

The construction works were in full swing. The facade stones were taken away, cleaned and reused, the house’s insulation was improved and the windows were replaced. Today, Y/N and her nephew were removing the roof tiles to check and repair the underlying woodwork. Pascale watches both of them through her window. In the past months, she and Y/N have grown close. Pascale needed some time to get used to the new situation, but Y/N had been very understanding and an absolute sweetheart. The construction works never started before 7 a.m. and always ended at 10:30 p.m. sharp as agreed upon with the neighbourhood, she informed everybody upfront when there were any changes in the schedules, and she insisted to pay for the water, electricity and utensils she used. Pascale and Y/N always had a small chat when they saw each other and Lorenzo and Arthur, who visited their mom every month, also grew fond of her. Y/N was yet to meet Charles though, Pascale’s middle son, due to his busy racing schedule.

If he only met her, Pascale thought, she is the type of girl he needs. With the F1 summer break just around the corner and the final phase of the construction works nearing, an idea popped up in Pascale’s head.

---- August -----

The day of the street BBQ had come. Pascale had been preparing this event for weeks: doing a tour around the neighbourhood to fix a date, visiting the town hall to get permission to close the street, rent the tables, seats and parasols, making decorations and, of course, preparing the food and drinks – it has been hectic, but she was determined to make this day perfect.  

It was now 3 p.m. Charles parked his Ferrari at the small parking lot at the church and jogged his way over to his mother’s house. He knew he was running a bit late - something that his mother always told him was disrespectful - but he was met with a little fan on his way to the BBQ and he just could not refuse the small boy’s request to sign his drawing. When he spotted Pascale on the street, a small smile grew on his face; he loved his mom so dearly and it has been way to long since the last time they saw each other.

Pascale has been chatting with Y/N for almost 30 minutes now, only interrupted by her two sons – who told her that Charles would arrive a little later – and some other neighbours. Y/N was dressed in a loose floral dress that came a little above the knees, paired with white sneakers. She was wearing very little make-up and, much to Pascale’s relief, no wedding or engagement ring. Together with the fact that she had never seen any men at the site except for family members and never saw another car in the driveway than Y/N’s, Pascale was convinced that Y/N was single. She knew Charles was too but not wanting to be too intrusive, she decided to just plant a seed between Charles and her new neighbour today and see it from there.

When she heard the deep sound of Charles’ Ferrari, Pascale told Y/N that her third son had arrived and that she would be right back. Y/N’s hands became sweaty. Ever since she found out Pascale was Charles’ mom, she had been dreading this moment. There was no turning back now though.

---- Flashback ----

When Y/N visited Pascale for the first time last winter, her eyes quickly landed on all the family portraits hanging on the wall. It were paintings of a family of five, probably made by her sons in preschool, and pictures of Lorenzo, Arthur and Charles in different periods of their lives. In the middle hung a beautiful black-and-white picture of her husband, Hervé, who sadly passed away when the kids were still little. “There has been no other man in my life ever since”, Pascale said, the love for her deceased husband still evident in her voice. Looking at the paintings and pictures, Pascale could not help but be proud of where her family was now. Arthur and Charles were professional athletes and Lorenzo was active in finance. Both Lorenzo and Arthur had a lovely girlfriend, the eldest already thinking about children. Charles, however, was less steady when it came to love. After two long-term relationships, Charles got a bit lost; it was not easy for Charles to maintain a relationship given his hectic and public life. Although Pascale was sceptical and warned her son many times – as there are always people who try to surf on other’s success –, it hurt her to see him like this, trying to erase the loneliness inside him with alcohol and volatile love. At the end of last season though, a little spark returned in Charles’ eyes. He did not disclose much to his mom, apart from that he met a girl in France whilst being out with Pierre and some other friends and that they were texting each other very often. She had not heard him talk about her since the new season started, so she assumed that she was just another fling.

“That’s Lorenzo, this is Arthur and that’s Charles. Aren’t they beautiful young men, Y/N?” Pascale asked.

“They are, Pascale, they are”, Y/N replied. She was still looking at the picture of Charles, all memories of last winter hitting her like a truck.

It was almost a year ago when Charles and Y/N met each other in a small café in the south of France. Charles was out with his friends, unwinding from the previous season and enjoying a short get-away to prepare for the upcoming winter testing. Y/N happened to be in Nîmes that week for work and that is how they met. She had been quite bold that afternoon, handing her number to Charles when she left the café, fully well knowing who he was. She never expected him to do something with it – he was one of world’s eligible bachelors after all – so she almost fainted when he called her the next day, saying how much he liked talking to her. They kept texting from that day onwards, throwing in the occasional FaceTime-call late at night. Despite the fact that they were both busy and lived in other countries, not a day passed without contact. Long story short, Y/N and Charles were falling for each other, hard.

Pierre did not stop teasing Charles about it, relieved to see his best friend happy again. The people at Ferrari knew that there was something going on, sensing that the fast laps Charles was setting were not only due to the changes to the car. His brothers noticed he was mentally somewhere else when he did no longer weep the floor with Arthur during their weekly tennis matches. The presence of Y/N in Charles’ life changed him, but in a good way. He was glowing.

Y/N grew fonder of Charles by the second; he was such a sweetheart. While she was not into F1 that much before she met him, she was learning about the sport and following the testing sessions in Bahrein, such that they could talk about it without her sounding like a complete and utter fool. She found a renewed motivation in her work, supported by Charles who was amazed by both her beauty and brains – and he told her that, every day. She got back into learning French such that she could – or, at least, try – to talk to Charles in his mother tongue. In return, he gave her cute, French nicknames that made her blush, which Charles found incredibly endearing. She was glowing.

However, when it hit Y/N that the F1 season would be starting soon, she started to think. She loved Charles, she was sure of that, but a long-term relationship would not work. She had her responsibilities at home and Charles would be busy travelling, training and racing - she had been in a similar relationship before and things ended badly. The media would focus more on him too after he finished 2nd in last year's championship, attracting the attention from (new) female fans. Not that Y/N was the jealous type or that she did not trust him, but she knew there are women out there who are better suited for Charles, beautiful women who are willing to make sacrificies. Women Charles deserves. Therefore, before Y/N would move to her new home and Charles would start the season, they met in Turin to talk about it all. Y/N told Charles about her sorrows and although he wanted to deny it, despite him wanting all her reasoning to be wrong, despite him wanting to tell her to listen to her heart instead of her head, he knew she was right. Therefore, Charles and Y/N used the rest of that week in Turin to feel what it could have been; they had date nights in cosy restaurants, strolled through the city, went on hikes together and made the sweetest love. After sharing one last kiss at the airport and promising each other to never forget what they shared, Charles and Y/N parted ways.

For good.

---- Present -----  

Pascale swiftly disappeared to find her son. The local cover band Pascale hired was giving it all on the small stage and people were chatting away and enjoying the delicious pastries from the local bakery shop just a few blocks away. Y/N started mingling with Sebastien and Amélie, a young couple that was also relatively new to the neighbourhood.

Once he greeted everybody at the party, Charles was finally able to give his mom a proper hug. After a preach on how she does not see him enough and once made sure that he does take care of himself and eating enough, Pascale started updating him on all the latest gossip. Charles loves to gossip, especially with his mom because he loves how invested she is in it. After 20 minutes or so, when she decided she told Charles everything he needed to know, Pascale started to look around. She spotted Y/N a few tables further away, entertaining little Kasper. “I want you to meet our new neighbour, Charles. She is there with Kasper and Amélie. Come on.”

Although Charles did not know his mom’s new neighbour, he felt like he already did based on the stories Lorenzo and Arthur had been telling. From what he heard, she seems to be a lovely young woman. When he looked into the direction of little Kasper, he spotted her. She was wearing a white dress, which contrasted nicely against her bronzed skinned. Her hair was up in a messy bun, showing the delicate skin of her neck and shoulders. When he heard that the neighbours’ name was Y/N, his thoughts instinctively drifted back to his Y/N, his lost love, the woman whom he shared to best week of his life with. However, he never thought it would actually be her but now that he sees her, her petite frame, he knows it is her. The woman whose body he knows like the circuit of Monaco. The woman who still owns his heart. The woman he said goodbye to in Turin.

For good.

At least, that is what they both thought. Pascale gently taps Y/N on her shoulder. She turns around. “Y/N, I want you to meet my son Charles. Charles, this is Y/N, the new neighbour I told you about”.

Their eyes meet, for the first time in months. 

Should they act as if they never met?

Should she tell him that she moved on?

Should he tell her that he has not?

---------------------------------------------------

[lastoneout]

So my neurologist actually did something right for once and gave me some ambien to help me sleep while I'm on the steroid pack since I already have insomnia and steroids make it WAY worse, and I was really excited because this is legit what I've been wanting a doctor to do for like over a year now...but it didn't really help me sleep, at least not as well as the weed does.

I could possibly just need a higher dose(I am known to be very resistant to these sorts of meds, it takes like twice the normal dose of propofol to put me under) or maybe the steroid is just so powerful the meds can't make a dent in it(which I'd believe since I'm really sensitive to steroids and the weed ALSO doesn't help me sleep as well when I'm on them), and also it's really hot and humid right now which makes it hard to sleep in general AND I just got my bc implant put in which is making it hard to sleep since I have to be careful with my left arm and I like NEED to be able to switch what side I sleep on cuz my shitty arthritic joints don't like staying in one position for too long...but this is a bit of a let down ngl. I was really excited to be able to sleep and then maybe use this as proof that I can be trusted with sleep medication and I could finally stop having to spend damn near $100 on weed gummies every month and a half just to Sleep At All but like...hnnnn.....

Idk, when I see my primary I'm going to beg her to send me to a sleep specialist again bcs the weed is NOT sustainable it's already expensive and on top of that I am absolutely building up a tolerance which means I have to take more to sleep and thus spend more money and it's so fucking annoying. I've already made a lot of progress in the trauma department too and that hasn't really helped me sleep better which leads me to believe this is def a result of one of my other medical issues, I def think a sleep specialist is the best bet rn.

The plus side tho is she gave me 15 ambien and I only have three days of the steroids left, and my arm should be healed better in the next couple of days, so I should have a chance to test the ambien without the dual whammy of the arm pain and steroids wrecking my system, and if even that fails well that's a 15 day T break for the weed which honestly I really do need so like there's that.

Also since I have a bunch of new followers quick FAQ/rundown before anyone gives advice:

I have bipolar disorder type II and adhd and severe chronic pain from fibromyalgia, arthritis, and hEDS. The adderall for my adhd isn't the problem, I actually sleep WAY worse without it. I don't drink that many caffeinated beverages and I especially don't drink them basically at all when I'm on steroids so that's not it either. At least a little of my insomnia is due to trauma and not having a dog currently, but I can't adopt another one right now for numerous reasons, and EMDR has helped the trauma nightmares/anxiety let up quite a lot but that hasn't helped me sleep. I can't take CBD it makes my brain feel like I'm hooked up to a car battery. I also can't smoke bcs asthma so unfortunately I am stuck buying edibles which are very expensive. Insomnia isn't on the medical marijuana criteria in my state so I can't even make it cheaper that way. Melatonin does nothing. Benadryl also does nothing. Exercising before bed also does nothing. I can't do yoga(hEDS) or meditate(adhd). Cutting down on screen time before bed doesn't help and I already spend as little time in my bedroom as possible during the day so my brain keeps associating being in there with sleeping. Listening to music/a podcast doesn't help. Sleepy teas and nice baths and all that before bed doesn't help. I have a weighted blanket which does help a little, but sucks bcs it traps heat like a motherfucker, but I'd sleep worse without it so yeah. Also I can't make my house any cooler/less humid because I'm renting and it's old and shitty and doesn't have real air conditioning and the little portable ac unit + dehumidifier is trying but like...it's not enough I'm still hot and sweaty all night.

I am on hydroxyzine and nortryptraline and they don't make me even a little tired. I cannot take SSRIs or SNRIs on account of the bipolar and the fact that I'm just really sensitive to stuff that messes with my serotonin, even when I'm on a mood stabilizer, and the only med that I can stand that does serotonin stuff is the nortryptraline and it's also the only thing that helps my pain so switching it to something else isn't an option. I build up a resistance to seroquel really fast which makes my insomnia infinitely worse in the long run so I don't see the point in taking it. I have tried basically everything my psychiatrist can think to give me outside of narcotics, which led to her straight up telling me to my face she just can't help me before clarifying that apparently narcotics are somehow worse for me than not sleeping so she won't prescribe them even if they might help. I don't snore or wake up gasping for air so I know I don't have COPD or sleep apnea.

Literally the only thing that has ever made sleeping easy is weed(and opioids but those don't help my pain and have so many hoops to jump through so I don't wanna take them anymore), specifically indica with CBN, but it has to have THC in it I've tried pure CBN + CBD gummies and they don't make me tired they just make me feel weird 'cuz of the CBD.

So yeah. I am up shit creek without a paddle and I really quite desperately need to see a sleep specialist. I appreciate advice but like believe me, I've tried just about everything I can think of and none of it helps. I just naturally have really bad insomnia. And it sucks.

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Family Dynamics

None of them quite knew what they were expecting when Jaskier invited Geralt and Yennefer to move in to his house in Oxenfurt. Yennefer was lonely in Aretuza, and Geralt and Jaskier needed a more permanent place to stay when Geralt was between jobs or Jaskier had to work on band business.

They were all probably expecting it to be one of those awkward roommate situations where a couple and the third wheel best friend all split the bills and live under the same roof. It ended up being nothing like what they were expecting.

They all secretly expected Jaskier and Yennefer to make it maybe a month before they were at each other's throats and Yennefer decided to leave. It already looked as if they could barely stand each other. They always seemed to be arguing, insulting each other, or being passive agressive.

And then came the subtle smiles, the slight playful tones...

Jaskier and Yennefer had finally bonded. Geralt figured that since they were friends now, things would settle down. But he was wrong. So very wrong. They all got sucked into this new chaotic relationship.

Yennefer always complains about how Geralt and Jaskier are nothing but trouble when they are together. How she can't turn her back on them for five minutes before Geralt loses all higher brain function and somehow allows Jaskier to convince him to do some of the most stupid, and/or annoying things.

Things like:

Building blanket forts and refusing to let Yennefer in unless she knows the Super Secret Password. It's 'Bewbs'.

Tying a bunch of helium balloons to a blow up doll and setting it loose in the backyard to float away, then running inside to monitor the police scanner to see how many 911 calls it recieved.

Buying a tiny fat pony. Not Jaskier's fault this time. They were driving home and Geralt sees the advertisement on the fence and has to stop because all the fluffy babies are out in the field and he sees a little red one, and is just going "Oh my GAWD, I want to take her home! We can put her in the van!"

Geralt just really loves horses, ok? And she fits in the van!

And now they have to say Wee Roach, or Van Roach so no one gets confused as to which Roach they are talking about.

The constant That's What She Said, Everything Can Be A Toy If You're Brave Enough, and I Fell On It jokes. And all the other inappropriate jokes Jaskier is constantly waiting to make.

Yennefer and Geralt have forbidden Jaskier from physically entering any sandwich shop ever again. They never did find out Jaskier's answer to "How do you want your sub topped?" Because Geralt had, thankfully, been close enough to clamp his hand over his mouth in time.

The laughing fits that start over words like "butthole". All it takes is for Jaskier to start laughing, and then Geralt starts laughing, which makes Jaskier laugh even more... Heaven help them if they are in public, or even worse, at a public function and something sets Jaskier off. He will try to get the person who said the trigger word to say it more.

And then they get kicked out.

Yennefer feels like she's babysitting two 6 year olds.

Jaskier convincing Geralt to walk around the grocery store acting like a gorilla

Jaskier convincing Geralt to squeeze into Yennefer's yoga pants, then go for a nice jog around the neighborhood.

Yennefer having to hold their hands at stores/shops/amusement parks so they don't run off and get into trouble. Or get lost.

Blowing their straw papers at each other and Yennefer. (Jaskier always tries to get his straw paper to stick in Yennefer's cleavage. Geralt aims for her hair because he's not that stupid.)

Leaving messes everywhere. Trails of clothes leading to the bathroom. Messes in the kitchen. Crumbs on the couch. Seat left up, or 'sprinkled on' and not wiped off...

Constantly walking in on them doing whatever the hot new tiktok trend was. The Beethoven Challenge had truly been a sight, she had to admit.

Ridiculous games. Like the one where they put kazoos or harmonicas in their mouths and took turns zapping each other on their bare a**es with bug zapper paddles.

Putting random price tags on random items at the store to see if they can make it through the checkout line with it.

Surprisingly, it works the majority of the time. Which is how they ended up with a wet floor sign shaped like a giant banana peel, a big plastic horse from a wine display, and a standee of the store mascot

And trying to rip each other's back pockets off. Geralt had completely ripped the entire a** out Jaskier's jeans. In the middle of the grocery store.

And don't get her started on how she couldn't make a phone call around them. Yennefer lived in constant fear that her phone would ring in their presence. Because that meant trying to talk on the phone while they

Yell random things like:

Is that the brothel again? Was my credit card declined?

That doesn't go in your butt!

Why are you lying to them like that?

Stop hogging the bong!

Yen, help, he's escaped the basement again!

Geralt will do a very realistic impression of a barking dog.

Jaskier will randomly scream.

They will team up and pretend to be two children fighting over something "MoOoooMM! Geralt/Jaskier is...."

"MoOOMMM, I frew up!"

Pretend there is a small crisis going on and run around cursing in the background.

Make random moaning/creaking/slapping/thumping combinations.

Make fart noises.

Bang pots and pans together

Random sex jokes

Deez Nuts jokes

But what Yennefer didn't realize (or refused to acknowledge) was that her and Jaskier were just as bad.

Geralt secretly referred to them as the Chaotic Siblings.

Yennefer tried to be the responsible, mature one of the pair, but always ended up getting sucked in by Jaskier's playful energy. Which always left Geralt feeling like a Tired Dad.

They will fight, argue, and annoy the h*ll out of each other and Geralt for fun.

Some of the things they do are:

The Butt Poke of Death. Geralt can't remember who started it, but Jaskier and Yennefer spent weeks jumping at every opportunity to stab each other in the a**. Then they involved Geralt, and they all ended up walking around the house, constantly on guard, relexively covering their butts.

Embarrassing Yennefer in public. Jaskier starts walking weird, making odd random noises, or just acting embarrassing in public and follows Yen around as she tries to get the h*ll away from him. He just starts walking weirder and weirder. Running just makes it worse. He will chase her, doing the "I'm frEEEE~!" run.

Jaskier and Yen once did the Awkward JCPenny Sibling photoshoot. They wore the cringiest clothes they could find and did all the awkward Sibling poses. They do it every year now and pick the worst one, have it framed, and hang it on the wall in Roach. Last year's photo is moved to the livingroom wall where everyone who walks in the door can see it .

They even get Geralt to sometimes involve himself in their nonsnse. Like the time when Jaskier and Yennefer got bored on rainy day and started doing old kid's crafts they remembered doing from their childhoods. Classics like the Squawking Chicken Cup, plastic mesh canvas crafts, fuse beads, paper mache, etc. Geralt had declined joining them. And then they'd started making Friendship Pins for each other. Geralt had absolutely not been jealous as he'd watched them trade their pins. He'd just been bored, okay? He'd definitley not sat down and started making pins because he was jealous!

The pranks are even worse. Geralt is always an unwitting participant. Like the time they filled his room with balloons. Geralt had started popping balloons just so he could get into his room, and found the one balloon they had filled with glitter. He'd been rather irate about it, but as the Chaotic Siblings had put it as he'd chased them through the house, "At least you look fabulous!"

Not even a week later Geralt had been opening a soda bottle in the kitchen when Jaskier had run up behind him and dropped a mentos in the bottle when Geralt turned to get his glass. They'd run like h*ll after the soda spewed all over Geralt. Yen's phone has the whole thing on video, including the chaotic shaking view of her running from Geralt.

Putting clear tape across the doorways at face height and watching Geralt walk into it.

Switching places when Yennefer is walking with Geralt. The Siblings had gotten a good laugh when Geralt realized that at some point they had switched places and he'd been holding Jaskier's hand for the past 15 minutes.

They bought a big bag of gummy bears, waited until Geralt had gone to bed, then spent a few hours licking each gummy bear and then sticking them to the ceiling of Geralt's van.

F**king with Geralt's collection of horse figurines by either replacing one with a random a** object, or dressing one up, and waiting to see how long it takes him to notice.

Sometimes they just abduct one and hold it hostage until Geralt pays the ridiculous ransom they came up with.

Which is how Geralt ended up walking out of the salon with hidden pastel rainbow hair.

And not to mention all the random, childish things, like

Interacting with random statues they come across, resulting in hilarious photos.

Full sleeve tattoos using assorted kids' temporary tattoos

Both of them constantly yelling "gErALt!" whenever one of them did someting particularly annoying to the other. Like how Yennefer keeps calling Jaskier 'Babygirl' in front of his band. Or telling Geralt that Jaskier is his other wife.

Eskel and Geralt have a private joke that Jaskier is Yennefer's gay boyfriend. Eskel even took all the footage he had collected of Yennefer and Jaskier interacting and put it to Gay Boyfriend by The Hazzards.

Not being able to play a serious game of pool because Jaskier keeps dancing around his pool cue while Yennefer sings "Somebody come get her, she's dancin' like a stripper!"

Or they end up just contantly trying to poke each other with the pool cues.

Or they get drunk, turn the barstools upside down and sit between the legs and have 'barstool rodeos'. The first one to tip over loses.

The a** slapping battles that subsequently end up with bickering, name calling, and sulking.

Which dovetails into their wrestling matches, that always end in high pitched screams for help when Yennefer gets the upper hand.

They call Geralt by going "Pspspspsps!"

Geralt hates it because he turns to look every single time. He hates it even more when they do it in public.

He tried to ignore a public summons once, and had done a pretty decent job of barely twitching, until Yennefer had called loudly, "Geralt Roger Eric-!" And Geralt had never moved faster in his life.

He'd thought they had given up "cat" calling him, until he found out they had changed his ringtone. Now when one them calls him, it's a recording of the specific Sibling going "Pspspspsp!"

They will, every once in a while, even send him a text message that reads "Pspspspsps!"

They found out that a squeaky ball worked just as well. Geralt's in his room and Yen wants to ask him something? Squeaky Ball! Don't know where Geralt is? Just give the ball a squeak!

And if that wasn't bad/annoying enough, the little sh*ts will casually walk up to him, start scratching his cheeks/chin, and just smile as his eyes dilate and he starts purring.

Geralt tries to resist, but as soon as the skritches start, his brain just goes 'Brrrrr! Skritches Good!' and he's gone! He can't even remember what he was doing/saying.

And Geralt is pretty sure the Siblings have used the Chin/Cheek Skritch technique on numerous occasions to get themselves out of trouble.

The Squeaky Ball works just as well. Just give it a squeak and throw it, and Geralt forgets all about being mad!

[wgc-productions]

I don't know if you listen to @meteorcitypod but if you don't you should. The premise is that local ball of tension, Bianca Diaz, returns to her hometown, Detroit, which was the site of a massive meteor strike a decade ago.

Premise:

The city is pretty bombed out, and Old Detroit (or Meteor City) is experiencing a wave of gentrification as an organization named New Detroit Financial buys property and turns it into nice shiny buildings that people want.

Characters

Bianca Diaz: Oh, Bianca. What can I say?? She is always going through it which sucks for her but is great for me as a listener. I'm in Season 2 now which, woof. When I say she is going through a lot I mean it. But the writing makes it so it never feels like dreary or overwhelming. Also, Bianca has that tenacity that I love in my protagonists. She believes in Truth and Justice and she will fight tooth and nail to make sure that those values get to continue in the world. She sees the value that Old Detroit has and she wants to fight for that world and for the rights of the people who were left behind after the meteor hit. She's wants to be a hero so bad, and I want that for her too. Also, terrible taste in romantic partners. Hate that for her.

Wes: Tall, Dark, and Emotionally Unavailable, Wes is our male lead. He was the best friend of Malcolm, Bianca's brother who died in the meteor shower, and he also had a crush on Bianca when they were kids. Boy oh boy, did that crush only grow! Trust and believe, Wes is not going to let his wife keep him from the love of his life. I'm being unfair to him, and their attachment can be very endearing, I just don't like that he keeps so many IMPORTANT secrets. I mean, you fake your death for 10 years, that's a lot to work past romantically, but the heart wants what it wants. If I wasn't such a Bianca-stan I'd like him more.

D: As of episode 7 of season 2 D has done no wrong in my eyes. At the very least she has done no worse than anybody else. She is a comforting presence who is has a diner that is one of the last remnants of Old Detroit and she is sort of a representation to Bianca of everything good about Meteor City. Serves a great role to the plot. Very useful.

There are a lot more characters but because the show has a mystery going on I don't want to give too much away. For example, there's a person stalking Bianca in the first couple of episodes that is pretty important. There's some more characters further in that are signification but explaining why would muddle the experience. You know how it goes.

Special Notes:

Each episode there are these songs interspersed and those are actual songs but indie artists which I think is the coolest thing! I think incorporating these experiences adds a certain aesthetic to the show that make it distinct from lots of the other "creepy sci-fi" audio dramas that are around.

[zahri-melitor]

Hi! How and when did you get into DC comics?

Well my original entry to DC was that I was a fan of Lois & Clark: the New Adventures of Superman when I was a kid and it was originally showing. This actually was a decent entrypoint to the DC mythos, as it's famous for having probably the best TV-comics synergy of all time: the Death of Superman was written to have a plot running while Lois & Clark built up to the wedding, so they could do simultaneous weddings in the comics and the show.

It worked out pretty well for DC.

But DC Comics, as comic books? Well somewhere around 2006 or so I'd transitioned into reading some fic for Lois & Clark, as a change. I then moved on to stories about Bruce/Selina (which I had a reasonable amount of background for from the Burton & Schumacher movies), and ended up in the scans_daily scene on LJ. This was the heyday of scans_daily, when you could pretty reasonably follow along a lot of major comics via the 1/3 posting rule; you didn't get everything, but that plus the summary got you across events pretty well.

I'd liked Barbara Gordon as a little girl, watching the movies. It was at this point I discovered Oracle.

The first comics graphic novel I ever purchased was Birds of Prey: Perfect Pitch. I've still got it. I ended up reading a bunch of runs recommended via content I liked on scans_daily: Birds of Prey, Robin, No Man's Land, Nightwing, Batgirl 2000, Blue Beetle, and Young Justice. A couple of these I was buying trades for (BoP and Blue Beetle); the rest I was reading via ye olde torrent packets. I was also reading and collecting a bunch of Vertigo titles: The Sandman, Fables, Y: the Last Man, and one or two Marvel titles (Runaways and Power Pack).

I dropped out of DC fandom, like so many others, around 2010-2011. It was actually prior to n52 in my case: I wasn't enjoying Batman Reborn, they'd cancelled my two favourite books (Birds of Prey and Blue Beetle), but the last straw was probably when they murdered Lian Harper.

I noped out. And it was a pretty good call on my part, given that n52 was barrelling down anyway.

I was still occasionally dipping in to read fic, mostly about characters I particularly cared about, but every time I took a breath and paid attention to gossip about what was currently happening in comics, it was mostly terrible news (Lian was still dead; people told me Roy's personality had been obliterated; Barbara was Batgirl and magically healed; the universe resets sucked and everyone hated them; Jason was somehow still alive; everyone was mad about something that had happened to Dick; etc etc)

It was during 2022, when I don't even know how I came across it, but I discovered that DC had finally reprinted Young Justice in trade. This was huge; collections had refused to do this during the 2000s aside from a trade of Sins of Youth back when it came out. There was a general attitude that the group of largely younger and largely female fans weren't worth catering to. The fact that DC now saw us as a lucrative market suggested to me that my contemporaries were finally getting their chance to start running the asylum.

So I dipped back into the community. It was a little hard at first, because hubs had changed, and locating fans who liked the things I personally liked took a little while. But I got back into the fandom, and got back into the fic, and discovered that back in about 2017 there'd been a revival to start reprinting a lot of my favourite comics runs, and that DCUI was the best way to read comics these days, and I could get access to it in Australia.

And because DCUI was just so much better than the methods of reading comics I'd been dealing with 15 years previously, and I'd had an idea for a story I wanted to write, I started a canon read through review, starting all the way back in ALPOD with Tim's earliest comics.

And here I am. I often have older opinions on things simply because I remember being in these debates 15+ years ago, and then I missed the intervening period, so my opinions never updated or heard the changed details (or are only slowly doing so now). I'm a preboot girl at heart because that's where I fell in love with various characters. I, like every other Batfan with a similar history to mine (and there are a lot of us) went through that moment of sheer bemusement over the Tim & Jason tag at AO3 as my most prominent memory of their relationship was Tim kicking Jason in the nuts.

And I've bought a lot of trades ever since getting back into the fandom, because I can't lose access to them AND they're just so far superior for collection purposes than floppies.

[earthbovndmisfit]

11, 12, 19, 21, and 24!

Fandom/fanfic asks! - @icouldbemoreclever

11.- Most unique merch you have for a fandom? That would probably be my old Captain Commando figure from the MvsC series by Toy Biz. I don't know how "unique" it actually is, but I've seen it going on sale for waaayyy more than I paid for it brand new at the time, so it kinda looks like it's not too common. Plus, other than the games and the 2 volume manga, there's very few official merch of that franchise! :c

12.- Craziest thing you've ever done as part of a fandom? I've mentioned this one before, but I once attended to a Megumi Ogata (YYH's Kurama's seiyuu) concert in my country while wearing a Karasu (YYH) cosplay lol. I was also on the second row! Just about 2 meters away from her. It was quite the experience lol. It was also not that planned really! ((Story time ahead)) The concert was held inside an anime convention and which was also located in another city (around 4 hours from where I live). Said anime convention used to give free entrance to most cosplayers at the time. I went with my sister, a couple friends, and a bunch of guys we met during the trip and also met with an online friend I had at the time and her girlfriend. At the time, my sister and I were kinda broke bc we had just attended to that con the past November (this one of the concert was on February, just a couple months later), so we'd had many expenses already from then and also from buying bus tickets to get there this time, local transportation tickets (bus and subway), food, etc so any pennies we could save to buy merch would be great! I also used to cosplay every time we went to those cons, plus, I already had the Karasu cosplay ready since that was the first cosplay I ever made and I also still had my hair long by then since I was planning to cosplay as Kuronue at some point too (spoiler: The Kuronue cosplay never came to fruition :( ). I also had a hunch they would have Kurama merch on sale for that con due to Megumi Ogata's concert (YYH merch was difficult to find, and even more so Kurama's because it would be sold out before we even got there), and I was right because that's where I managed to snatch a Kurama Banpresto keychain I'd wanted for years! So it was a win/win all around with the moneys I saved from that free entrance lol

19.- Fanfic you read again and again? I don't have a specific one that comes to my mind tbh, partly bc I haven't read any fanfics in a good while and partly bc my memory is awful. I like plenty that I occasionally re-read every now and then tho! Most of them were written by HamonHugs because I really like the way they portrayed and stayed true to Jonathan and Speedwagon.

21.- Favorite fic trope? I'm a simple man who loves Friends to Lovers stuff (bonus for "Enemies to friends to lovers" which, coincidentally, pretty much fits Jonawagon lol). "Fix-it" fics where some of the characters with canon deaths survive the horrors (like the "Jonathan lives AU" stuff in Jojo for example). Romance stuff, fluff, stuff like Mutual Pining, a bit of Drama and Angst here and there (pretty sure the Hurt/Comfort thing fills this bill but idk?), bits of humor sprinkled here and there to give the story a wider range of emotions (thus making the sad and the fluff feel much more pronounced too). Some whump and violence can be good too depending on the story. AUs are also nice when done right. I like some of the "Modern AUs" I've seen for Jonawagon. Same with reincarnation stuff and so on. I suck at naming tropes tbh, so I totally missed stuff here.

24.- Funniest fandom-related story? Probably the story I mentioned earlier about the Megumi Ogata concert lol. Other than that I can't remember anything in particular, save for the times Reki Taki-sensei (one of Araki's former assistants for the manga and also part of DavidPro's art staff since Stardust Crusaders) drops some likes on some of the art I retweet or on some of the random Speedwagon posts I make on twitter. As a bit of a side note: He also sometimes likes some of my Jonawagon ship-ish posts too 😁

[kittycatautism]

Friday, May 17, 2024

I was about to start typing but I just realized I think I’ve written my past entries as 2023 rather than 2024 so give me a moment… ok I have returned and they are fine apparently I’m just being silly!

Anyways!!! Not my normal posting day, I know, but I want to talk about ✨chronic illness/pain✨ today because I have some words!

I am 21, and yet I have had constant body pain since I was about 10 or 11 years old. I am just realized as I type this that I’ve been dealing with this horseshit for ten fucking years, most of which without help!!! Wonderful!!!!!!!

My doctor of the past, was an awful awful doctor. When I first came to him as a tiny 10-11 year old child about having pain in my back and legs and hands, he told me “you’re just fat and lazy, you need to work out more. You’re too young to know what pain feels like”. When I came to him a couple years later, the pain more than doubled, he said “your depression is making you think you’re in physical pain, and you’re still fat. Just go for a walk once in a while and you’ll be fine and your depression will be cured”. I never talked about pain with him again because it was the same old answer - I was fat and lazy.

Fast forward a couple more years, I’m about 18 I’d say, and that fuckass doctor retires and I get a new doctor. Within months of seeing that doctor I decide to mention the pain, and instantly I am met with more care and compassion and understanding than I ever was before. I got scheduled for x rays and blood work and this, was the beginning of many many tests of all sorts to come.

Now I’m 21, and I have chronic pain and illness, one of which is identified as fibromyalgia, one of which is thought to be ehlors danlos syndrome, and who knows what else there is hiding in me. I’m a shit show of issues with little to no results from testing, which feels awful given my wonderful past experience!! I mean, I literally got gaslit that nothing is wrong with me for years and now I have someone who will listen and I feel like I have to fight to be heard because nothing shows up on these tests, when really in all honesty I know my doctor believes me. I just am so scared that he will one day go “Welp! Nothing seems to be here so everything is alright and you’re just not in pain! It’s all in your head!!!”, I know it won’t happen but I worry nonetheless.

I’ve been on a few medications, none of which have helped in any way whatsoever, and my pain is just getting worse and worse and is deteriorating my body. My bones creak, I can feel every muscle move, and it ALL hurts, head to toe. Some pain is electric, some is just a general ache, it all sucks. I can hardly get out of bed, and I have a whole set of stairs to walk down to go to the bathroom (which, by the way, I have an inconstancy problem and for those who don’t know that basically means I pee myself every day!), I use a walker to get around when I’m out and honestly should be using a cane in the house, it’s a lot and I’m just barely scratching the surface. I mean, I am literally waiting for my doctors office to open back up on Tuesday so I can call about my disability covering a fucking wheelchair!!

I’m pretty sure I have a disc out of place or a pinched nerve now too, which if I remember correctly means I get to have another mri (I hate mris). I have so much pain that is just suddenly coming on in the last few months AND even better I am in a flare up right now that’s lasting for fucking ever!!! I mean I have to use a bunch of my money to buy a pair of orthopaedic shoes now because regular shoes cause me so so so much pain!! This shit sucks man!

I’ve completely forgotten what I was gonna close this off with originally, but I just want to say that if you struggle with chronic illness/pain I see you and completely understand. I would kill to have my pain taken away, I genuinely wish I would break a bone so I could focus on that over this, anything has got to be better. And having problems mentally already does not help as my mental health has been down the drain lately, so thinking about my pain and what it’s taken from me sucks so bad. But I know I’ll get through it, probably with like 20 years off my life but still, eventually hopefully things will get better or at least tolerable. Thank you for reading this awfully long rant about pain and wish me luck in getting a wheelchair covered by my disability (more specifically getting a wheelchair that will fit in my tiny car to be covered)

Song of the week is The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives, I love this song so much ehehehheheheh

[szalonykasztan00]

Papa Archeron's story??

First of all, I have a question:

Does Papa Archeron see to anyone else like the ACOTAR version of the finance bro?

That is sooooo rich but the moment he lost some money he starts panicking and making stupid decisions and then live/die in obscurity?

That kinda guy?

I saw the post discussing the ✨speed ✨ of the Archeron family losing everything. That got me wondering and creating my theory. There were many awesome ones in comments and reblogs (I will link the thread at the bottom for y'all to read and give credit to everyone involved). Now to the main part of my post:

Warning it will contain spoilers for the book "The doll" by Boleslaw Prus

If you want to read the XIX-century polish social and moral novel please skip this post. (I don't recement, the internal monologues of EVERY character are fucking irritating and more cringing than the most cringing thoughts Ferye have in all 3,5 books.)

So my theory is that Papa Archeron was like the main character of The Doll - Stanislaw Wokulski. Mrs Wokulski was a nobleman but his family lost all land and fortune long before he was born and because of that no one from the rest of the nobility remembers that he was, in fact, a noble. When he was young he marries an old merchant's widow, for which he work, to get money, a business and a house. She die because she wanted to be pretty for her young trophy husband. And now Wokulski is ✨rich✨. Then he goes to make some good business decisions and more money (it took him a couple of years). Now he is ✨super rich✨. But all the nobles think he is not noble and rich ☹ just rich and they don't like him, belittle him (not openly of course) and don't let him for the "salons". So he diced to marry a young aristocrat from a falling house name Izabela Łęcka. At that point, he is like 45 and Isabela is like 25. She plays with his desire for that marriage for some time. During that time he buys out her family from falling (more or less). Then he learns English for her (at that time it was a cool thing for young and rich aristocrats to do) and learns from overhearing a conversation she had with some other suitor that she thinks he sucks. That kicks him to leave the girl alone.

Now to put it to Papa Archeron. His family were nobles but lost money and were forgotten when Papa was born. Since mortal realms in ACOTAR are basically like Africa (after thousand in the ACOTAR, hundreds in our world YEARS of slavery), they have to figure themselves out on the new. That usually means bad economics, wars etc. it's not hard to believe that this situation + politics, religions or others means whatever money they have just ✨puff✨ gone. He (20) marries the old merchant's widow for business. She dies. He tries to live and do business but fails due to other nobles. He (25) goes to make more money (lucky for me, others may think it's a talent). Make friends and contacts. Comes back (30). They still don't like him. He contacts Scythia's friends that tell him about mama Archeron (20). They meet, fall in love?, and marry for her status (he (33) gives his now family an absurd amount of money – he is now not ✨super rich✨ just ✨rich✨). They come back to Prythian. They (+/- 22 and +/- 35) have Nesta then the rest. He makes BAD investments for some time (30 - ….) and his other business fall due to what is happening in mortal's realms. They try to keep it up for a few more years. They keep the appearance good enough for the duke. But there come the final bad investments and the fall begins. He is now +/- 44. His wife dies (+/- 36). Then they move to the hut (Papa Archeron's childhood home).

That makes him at the beginning of the first book +/- 60. He is old, with a broken and will never fully heal leg and (my private head cannon, which I got since first reading) probably have dementia (that's why he is better after Tamiln messed with his memories – he got accidentally healed from that).

That doesn't excuse him in any way, shape or form. It's just theory.

If there is evidence in the canon that proves or disproves my theory, please don't hesitate to let me know. Link Check the reblogs and comments.

[nickgerlich]

Apple A Day

It’s that time of year again. No, not the changing of the seasons, the beginning of football, or the month Green Day wants you to wake them up when it’s over. Nope. Tomorrow is the annual September announcement—drumroll, please—from Apple and the release of the next iPhone.

Not that Apple doesn’t let the rumor mill freely run and play with wild speculations for the nine months leading up to this. The iPhone16 will officially be announced tomorrow, but we probably already know everything there is to know. If anyone knows how to play the hype game, it is Apple.

The question is will people be impressed enough to plan on lining up at stores in a couple of weeks to replace their old phones.

I remember back in 2007 when the first iPhone was announced. Much to my current embarrassment, I roundly dismissed it as superfluous, wasteful, and overkill. I already had a phone, pocket camera, and calculator. Why would I want to replace all of them with an expensive new device? That first-gen iPhone had a list price of $499, which is laughably cheap compared to today’s models, but it was still a huge expense to duplicate everything else you already had.

I quickly saw the folly of my way, and was ready to hop in the queue a year later to get my hands on what has arguably become the most important device ever released. It has been imitated by others and with different operating systems. It has been improved upon by Apple each year, adding more bells and whistles to that shiny veneer. And it has been the one thing that has kept Apple stock and profits in the stratosphere.

Of course, as with any innovation well into its umpteenth iteration, you have to wonder exactly what they could possibly add to make this worth buying, especially if the older iPhone in your pocket or purse still works fine. With new phones costing more than $1500 at the top end of the product line, it better be good, even if your phone carrier is willing to float you a 30-month interest-free financing plan.

The trend in recent years has been toward less frequent replacements. As of last year, data showed that more iPhone owners are keeping their phones three years or longer before buying a new one. As for me, my iPhone 12 will be four years old this November. Yes, the battery is showing signs of decay, but I bring along a small power brick for those times when it starts to run low. Photos and videos are enormous battery sucks, and if you shoot like me, it doesn’t take long. That brick was a lifesaver in Costa Rica last year.

This year, though, I am betting the iPhone16 will be a runaway success, because there is one significant enhancement: the arrival of AI, or as they like to call it, Apple Intelligence. A rose by any other name, of course, smells the same, but it will be cool to have a handheld computer that is capable of creating text and images on the fly without having to log in to other websites.

Were it not for AI, I doubt that I would be ready to make a move, and I bet that is the same story for many. We need something big when the product is so expensive. Never mind inflation, economic uncertainties, and all the problems plaguing us these days.

Not many years ago, some people replaced their iPhones each year, just like a few decades ago, it wasn’t uncommon for motorists to line up to buy the latest new model every autumn. How else do you explain the Cadillac Ranch, a tribute to the auto industry’s ability to wow drivers with a slightly larger tail fin every year?

But cars are too expensive for that kind of frivolity today, unless you are made of money, and the same goes for iPhones. Marketers can only dangle new products successfully when there are both willingness and means. If either are in short supply—willingness because the new item truly is impressive, and means translating into ability to pay—then we won’t jump.

I guess we’ll all learn a bit more tomorrow, about ourselves, as well as Apple’s ongoing profitability. I’ll be watching.

Dr “But Can You Make The Camera Even Better?” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[fortemelody]

growing up a child of divorce and neglect meant a lot of traumatic moments obviously- but for the sake of this post we’re throwing most of that aspect away to talk about a smaller issue that i’ve come to realize holds a lot more weight than i ever thought it would.

my dream as a kid was always to have all of the stuff i collected in one space. dvds, cds, video game consoles, toys, plushies, figures, you name it. and until i was about 13 or 14, the room of the house i was neglected at (dads) felt so absolutely barren becus i didn’t have the chance to really go outside and buy stuff for it, and bringing stuff back and forth (unless it was my fav stuffed animal) felt like such a hassle. hell, i barely even had any clothes there and i wasn’t taught how to do laundry for awhile which made it worse.

what does this have to do with the present day you may ask? well, as of january 15 of this year, i officially gained some courage and moved out of my dads house. however i didn’t start moving any of my things till months later. i got a couple essential items here and there but now that it’s summer i’ve officially started getting more things in bulk from there and moving it over. it’s literally a 5 minute walk so it’s not hard to do at all. but i can’t help but have conflicting emotions from it all. for one, my dream of all my stuff being in a single room/house is finally coming true, and i can collectively look at what i all have together. i didn’t think this would happen till i got a new apartment or house of my own after college (so like… around 22 years old compared to being 17). but on the other hand, i can’t help but feel a bit sad. the layout of each room was unique how it was, and i managed to cultivate a safe space at my dads out of really shitty circumstances. in the span of the 3 years where i gained friends and a sense of direction, i could finally obtain merch and other items that made me happy and put them in my dads house, so it wasn’t some barren wasteland that i dreaded. seeing as though that’s where i spent all my time at that house, it only seemed right for it to look good. slowly stripping this room apart makes me really sad that i was destroying the work i put in to make a good environment for myself. but then comes an even bigger problem. i also have become in those three years a MASSIVE hoarder. and the only way that everything fit was having two spaces. and now i will only have one. i quickly went from a kid who wanted so many new products and toys to help me escape my reality, to an almost adult who bought too many things in an attempt to salvage their inner child. it’s quite the heartbreaking thing to see becus many of the items i have now (unless they’re from a specific person i cherish or already have sentimental value ) don’t really have much meaning on their own anymore and it sucks. i would say that money can buy happiness, but only for a limited amount of time. i deep cleaned out my closet to make room for at least some of the stuff from my dads, and i did manage to get three full garbage bags of things im going to donate to goodwill, so i’m glad that i am giving back in some way. but i’m still astonished that -even after that- how much stuff can pile up and eventually just come to be decoration after thinking it would be the key to your life. yes, i’m still going to collect, especially items you can actually use (physical media), but man it really hits different when you can visualize how many items you actually own. it’s a bit terrifying honestly. nevertheless, i do love the act of actually organizing so that aspect will be fun, and i don’t think it’s all completely bad becus there are a few gems that i’m really proud of owning.

a side story to top this all off- i made the mistake of carrying four huge bags full of clothes yesterday as i walked home in a path where i would see a lot of people. i could’ve waited like a half an hour until my dad was ready to load his car with my stuff, but i was so stubborn and wanted to leave his house ASAP. i had it in my mind the whole time that i probably looked like a homeless child (seeing as though me and my mom see this one homeless guy with 20 bags constantly throughout our neighborhood). shameful needless embarrassment aside, it’s really sad that my own stubbornness is what made me look like an “outcast” by society. my family is not exactly financially stable ourselves, but i obviously have a house as stated. it made me think about how many homeless people really only have their items to keep themselves sane. you come to appreciate what you *do* have becus of that. i really hope i come to a point in my life where i can stop buying things i don’t need so i can give back to others that cherish and need their items so much more. or possibly find a balance of my money- with helping others as my main priority while just buying myself things at certain times of the year. and referring to the root of this story, i hope i can also get to a point where i’m not so fucking stubborn and holding that strong of a grudge that i can tolerate my dad for an extra half an hour. but that’s a whole other story 😭

[chorusfm]

Liner Notes (May 25th, 2024)

This week’s newsletter has a couple of rants, one very random anecdote about drink habits, and a bunch of thoughts on music and other entertainment I enjoyed over the past week. This week’s supporter Q&A post can be found here. If you’d like this newsletter delivered to your inbox each week (it’s free and available to everyone), you can sign up here. A Few Things * Am I the only person who regularly copies the embed code for a newly created playlist from Apple Music? Every single week I write this newsletter, the last thing I do is post the playlist to the playlist category on the website and to do this I copy the embed code using the Apple Music menu option. It fails every single time. And it doesn’t fail in a normal way, like telling me it didn’t copy the embed code; oh no, that would be sane. Instead it just does nothing. So I go to the post, hit paste, and get whatever was last on my clipboard. I usually the ago back and forth five or more times! Sometimes, it’ll randomly work; often, it won’t. It’s maddening! The only consistent way I’ve found to get the embed code is to copy a link to the playlist, and then paste that into Chrome (not Safari, cause that’ll open up the playlist in the Music app), and then use the web version of Apple Music to copy the embed code. * While in a ranting mood, I’ve got to say: The new Sonos iOS app sucks. The update is less intuitive, doesn’t look good, and lacks features the old version had. One of the most common things I’d do is open the app, long-press the volume slider when music is playing, and adjust the volume of all the speakers currently playing. Now, the touch targets are smaller, and even changing the volume makes it more challenging to match up all the speakers at the same level. Thumbs way down on this one. * On a lighter note, I had a silly realization earlier this week. Throughout almost all of my life, I’ve had a drink that has defined a period in my life. I like to have something to sip on while working throughout the day, and it’s hilariously changed over time. In high school, I drank a lot of orange juice. My parents would buy multiple-gallon tubs of orange juice at a time lot. I also drank a lot of Mt. Dew and stayed up way too late with pure sugar running through my veins. College was Mt. Dew, Monster Energy Drinks, and Strawberry Quik from the student cafeteria. Then, there was a significant Vitamin Water phase. I’d buy cases of the stuff from Costco. None of this was healthy. Thinking about how much of all of this I drank on a regular basis, and my metabolism was like, “Yeah, no big deal,” is hilarious. I then had several years of Coke Zero (limiting myself to one day). A few years back, I realized I should (try to) be more thoughtful about what I was consuming, and I just switched to drinking more water instead. I started with flavored sparkling water but soon moved to filtered tap water. (The goal is 64 oz during colder months and 96 oz in the summer.) And I replaced the mid-afternoon caffeine need with Liquid Death’s Iced Tea. So, of course, and this is what got me thinking about this silly trend, I now have another drink for a period of my life. (I rotate between the basic black tea, the peach tea, and the lemonade/tea mix.) My brain is weird. In Case You Missed It * Review: New Found Glory – Catalyst * Review: Billie Eilish – Hit Me Hard And Soft * Review: Wallows – Model * Interview: AJ Perdomo of The Dangerous Summer * Pennywise & Dropkick Murphys Tour * Less Than Jake Announce’ Wake and Bake’ * Senses Fail and Saves the Day Announce Tour * Thursday Announce New Shows * Albums in Stores – May 24th, 2024 Music Thoughts * I don’t usually listen to many live albums, but I randomly ended up having three on my top-played albums of the week list this week. Blink, MxPx, and Slick Shoes are all top-notch. That Slick Shoes live record is an incredible collection spanning almost their entire history. When done well, live albums can be a lot of fun; I think… https://chorus.fm/features/articles/liner-notes-may-25th-2024/

[alikestory]

i keep seeing various iterations of that webcomic post going around and i HATE IT it's so depressing ;___;;;

this post got so long and rambly i'm putting it under a cut. talking points include: smackjeeves, my old comic Wander, and various tangents

there were so many good webcomics i read on smackjeeves and deviantart back when i was in high school, they had a whole different energy... like the creators were having fun with it and not worrying about how to Make It. (there wasn't like, an industry around it then so :v )

i wish i could have experienced making a webcomic back then and participating in that scene... but it just makes me sad to think about....

(if i did post anything polished-looking enough to get readers i don't think i would have really enjoyed it... the big story I was drawing then was Wander and if I'd been able to pull off what I was going for it would have been great but that was NOT HAPPENING (I did draw like, three chapters I never posted anywhere and outlined some more and that thing was a MESS u__u) tho I did post a comic to smackjeeves at one point it was really sketchy and I originally drew it for my friends so it was all just inside jokes....... I think a couple people did subscribe to it for some reason??? very nice of them. anyway like. even Blackout City that I started like seeeven?? years later there are lots of things I wish I thought through more or are kinda dumb but I still like reading it =w= )

BUT IF I'D POSTED WANDER ;__; BACK THEN. there would have been SOMEONE who read it and was like "this is awesome" and it wouldn't matter (to them) that it didn't turn out how I wanted......

you know that kind of thing where a creator is embarrassed by their old work because their new stuff has become polished and professional but that silly, crazy stuff they did when they were figuring it out has so much HEART..... it would have been cool to be that for someone.......

ALSO IF I'D DRAWN MORE OF WANDER I COULD READ IT. u__u well it would suck but IF I'D DONE A GOOD JOB. imagine a world. :v it's not something I'm interested in writing now (tangent: I started capitalizing the "I"s and nothing else like I'm typing on a cell phone that's autocorrecting them even though I AM NOT and I don't know why but now I need to keep doing it for Consistency) but I would like to read it if someone else wrote it ; 3;

it was about the people working at this hotel at a crossroads between worlds. for most of the story it was about them dealing with various visitors who would be the main focus of the chapters and then slowly you learn about the main characters. (ideally. I was not then and continue to not be any good at coming up with short stories.) and then at the end there's a serial killer who one of the main characters had a childhood romance with until he killed her sister..... you know, some standard melodrama. :'^)

also it was supposed to be seven volumes long..... because I had no concept of how long that would take...... and because tokyo babylon is seven volumes long AND THE COVERS WERE ALSO GOING TO BE COLOUR-CODED THE SAME WAY, OKAY???? IF THERE'S ONE THING YOU NEED TO KNOW IT'S THAT I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED TOKYO BABYLON AND I ALWAYS WILL. CLAMP NEEDS TO RELEASE AN ART BOOK WITH ALL THE PREMIUM EDITION COVERS BECAUSE I WILL NOT BUY SEVEN VOLUMES OF MANGA I ALREADY OWN BUT I REEEALLY WANT TO. I DON'T HAVE THAT MUCH SPACE ON MY BOOKSHELF. ALSO AN ART BOOK OF ALL THE CLEAR CARD ART BC IT'S REALLY PRETTY.

those are my demands. anyway, what was i talking about?

[the-firebird69]

Couple more announcements

-a lot of people are very mean and they're not saying it but they're mean and they're kind of s*** we know about it and we're going to enforce the rules in the law today we're tired of you people you suck you're out there doing that and you're all arrogant as hell and just point stuff out and say you're taking it it's going on globally and we really need it everywhere and there's twice as much stuff elsewhere other than the United States but that's the whole world but a lot of this is going to get exported there's a lot of stuff coming out okay new bikes there's Harley Davidson not that many but there's tons of Japanese bikes and they're going to flood the market and people going to start buying them again there's a lot of cars probably 1/3 of a Year's production in total globally there's a lot of household goods appliances and things and it's probably a half year supply but it's really needed and it's going to absorbed in probably two days and everybody's going to say we need production and we're going to start factories up all over the world in the middle areas and outside the middle areas and production is already at 300% of right before covid and we need more probably a thousand percent, and these factories making these bikes are going to be huge and they're going to switch over to hard knock kicker and they're going to make the models he was saying a cruiser a Sportster and it's going to be a huge company with several people running each division which is a different vlan and they're going to start infighting like madness they're spoiled and rotten right now there's more happening though and they're beginning to take the ships out and in competition because of Tommy f comment and he said it and there's tons of people at it tons of warlock those ships are going to come out real fast and this place is going to settle the water is going to come out it's still kind of plugged up if the water stopped flowing abnormally from up North in one week it would be down about 129 in which is over 10 ft it's 10 ft 9 so at low tide the water potentially could be 10'9 down which is way down it's going to look odd but when you pull the diamonds and stuff out of the harbor it won't it'll be a vertical wall and it goes down that deep it's it's not sand so we're waiting for that to happen and all over the world it's kind of the way it is so we are in the mood for doing some work and we're going to do some work right now he's going to cruise around and get some things but really his life is very hard it's going to change soon because of all the stuff that's going on we expect the Midwest to be emptied out by late tomorrow or early Monday and if it slows down we're going to go take stuff and people come back and start taking things it's really lame these people are lame

Thor Freya

Olympus

Forget their messages I guess we can't stop cuz they make us hate them but we realize something they're just not going to let it happen so he stopped the factories are still there the stuff is been taken out we really need it to make bikes but new ones and other people are trying but it's going to slow down and we're speeding up and taking out the old ones now rapidly cuz we don't have enough power to do it

Trump

It has been up we're almost a 35% and yeah by the end of the day they're going to be out of there and out of all the other areas that's so many bikes I don't know what the hell they're doing with him now they're hiring huge crowds now because it's coming back and our son and daughter say it was necessary but we have to call it because they're just going to keep doing it and they said good and some people have stuff for new bikes and that'll come or you can try and make them make equipment a lot of people say they don't know how but they can get people who do and they're going to try and do that so we are going to be building a lot of these frames because these guys will not be able to keep up with their own production they're looking at the frames to see if there any good and most of them have holes and that's not good because inside is rusted and the metal does not rust that easy so at the bottom is where it breaks and they can see it breaking when they move them and because all the water sits in it and they break real bad and a lot of them fall apart and they take all the parts out and they leave the motors in the frames and it's disgusting it looks really weird like ripping bodies out that are close and it might be why they showed their body in the fire but this is going to save lives and they're calling for the lawn mowers all at the same time huge rows of trucks are going out of the Midwest and going in and it's not enough and our son told DJ to get the big trucks and they lay off the Harley and he did and it's wasn't working yet and he's telling them so they're moving stuff with big trucks and he says this is intense huge trucks are out there and they load up outside the wall massive trucks are taking tons of stuff anything you can put in a truck the other stuff they put in the regular trucks and it's going to go faster someone said we're up to like 37% on the used motorcycles on regular stuff is 20% but with the big trucks it's going to go extremely fast and more shortly

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[moodkandi]

1999.

I am eight years old,

all skinned knees and peach fuzz and

hair growing out from an ill-advised bowl cut,

the Supercuts version of a pixie.

I see my shadow

on the playground and

pull my hair back from my face,

wanting the top of my shadow to stay

smooth and round,

not knowing

how to tell my dad

what I really wanted

was to look

like a boy.

Instead

I look like a mushroom.

Picture day is a lost cause,

one of the many photos I lost

when I left

but this one

I am not sad

to leave behind.

Mom dropped us off at the smoke shop;

it’s Friday night,

which means we’re with Dad for the weekend,

but he’s got a closing shift so

we have to wait behind the counter

and be very quiet

and be very good

until it’s

(finally finally)

time to go.

There’s a burger joint next door

with the best shakes in the world,

and if we’re very good

(if he can afford it this week)

we will get shakes before we go home.

The chocolate vanilla swirl is my favorite.

Dad always gets strawberry

so we don’t steal his.

Ten o clock rolls around

(finally finally)

after hours of boredom and the

woody smell of tobacco and cardboard filling my head

dissipates as he locks up.

I ask if we can get shakes

and he laughs,

poking my belly.

“You don’t need a shake,”

he says,

“You’ve got a little poochy belly already.”

What’s wrong with my belly?

I wonder.

It’s nowhere as big as dad’s. Not even close

to Bubbie’s belly.

He’s smiling as he talks, but

I know he’s thinking

something sad.

“You’ve always had a little poochy belly,”

he says.

“Just like Nefertiti.

You’ll probably always have it.”

Something is wrong with my belly,

I decide.

That’s why he’s saying it

Like That.

We go home without stopping for shakes.

2007.

I am sixteen years old,

convinced I am an adult and

doing my best

to live up to the impossible standards set

by a dead old man and the cult he left behind.

I’ve been training at Flag

(Scientology megachurch in Florida)

(the spiritual mecca,

they call it)

since my birthday, months

of late nights and

early mornings,

12- and 15-hour days and

overnight shifts

doing renovations to prepare

for a massive announcement

(the release of the Basics)

(more things to buy)

(more things to sell)

Months of waiting for approvals

to move on to my next training step, and

looking for a partner train with, and

(finally finally finally)

getting approved

just in time for a fatty summer flu

to sweep through the Base and

take me out

(along with a couple dozen other trainees).

There’s a running joke that going to iso

(isolation)

(sick bay)

is as close as you get to a vacation

while you’re in training

and any other time I would be grateful

for the rest

but my mom is flying out to visit me

in Five Days

and if I’m still sick

they won’t let me see her.

I don’t believe in God

(and neither does anyone else in Scientology) but

every night I pray

for clear sinuses and

clear lungs and

whatever higher power exists maybe does listen in because

the day before she flies in,

the medical officer clears me

to go back to post.

I get dirty looks

and snide comments

about the extended vacation

(five whole days in iso)

followed by more vacation

(three days with my mom,

staying in a hotel room at Flag

instead of trainee berthing),

but I don’t care.

Mom arrives

and we get to spend the weekend

doing Scientology Tourism Activities

(eating at the public cafe instead of the staff mess hall)

(going to WalMart to buy new underwear)

(sleeping in til nine)

It’s her last day here

and we go to the beach.

It’s a little too chilly to be perfect, but

I know I won’t have another chance to feel the ocean

for a long time

so I suck it up

and pretend it’s exactly what I wanted.

“I feel like I jiggle when I walk,”

I giggle.

She looks me

up

and

down.

“That’s because you do jiggle,”

she says,

“You’re chubby,

that’s what happens

when you’re chubby.”

My bikini suddenly feels

small.

I look down

at my soft belly.

My poochy little belly,

I think.

I’ve been working nonstop

for months,

doing physical labor

part of the day

almost every day, and

I still jiggle.

I shoot her a dirty look.

“You didn’t have to be so blunt about it.”

I should have known better;

she’s never been one to mince words.

She shrugs.

“If you don’t want to jiggle,

stop eating so much sugar.”

I nod.

The sooner I agree with her,

the sooner this conversation will be over.

The water is too cold, and I head back to shore.

2015.

I am twenty-four years old,

married to

(the man I think is)

my One True Love

and so tired

my bones hurt.

My post as Supervisor has me

on my feet

all day

every day

and

they’ve already had to send me

to a specialist

to get my plantar fasciitis Looked At

(he looked at it and said

yep,

that’s plantar fasciitis).

I’ve been with Eric since

I was seventeen and stupid, but

now I’m twenty-four and stupid and

the only things that seem to have changed

are my metabolism and sex drive,

both to his detriment.

It’s midnight and

I want to go to bed, but

he is telling me to

go

run around the block

for a half hour

before I

(finally finally finally)

get to rest.

We have a mirror

on the wall

next to the bed,

and

I can see myself in profile

out of the corner of my eye,

kneeling above him

as I beg

to just

be allowed

to sleep.

His eyes flick

down

to my belly and back

up

to my face.

“You need to exercise,”

he says firmly,

“It’s not healthy

to never exercise.”

I need sleep, too,

I think.

“I’m too tired tonight, and

my feet hurt too much.”

It’s a futile effort.

He’ll keep nagging til I go, or

silently sulk all night if I don’t.

Either way, I won’t be getting

the sleep

I was hoping for.

“You’re getting fat,”

he says.

“Please go exercise.”

It’s my belly,

I think,

my poochy little belly.

I weigh one hundred forty-five pounds and

wear a size eight.

Walking feels like knives.

I don’t own running pants, so

I put on my jeans and

head downstairs,

to run in circles

around the block

as Security guards on bikes circle

to make sure we don’t deviate

from the approved path.

I cut down on sugar and

dutifully exercise and

sleep five whole hours a night and

never ever ever

lose my jiggle.

I get sent out on mission

soon after.

He calls me sometimes,

when his schedule allows;

he wants to know

what I’m eating,

if I’m exercising.

He wants to know

how much I weigh now.

“There should be a scale

in the Purif area,”

he says,

“Just walk down there

and weigh yourself.

I’ll do it too,

we can work out

as a couples activity.”

I tell him

I have to go,

my boss is calling for me.

He calls once a week,

then once a month.

Eventually the calls stop.

I drink a lot of smoothies.

I never weigh myself.

I wear a size eight.

I’m starting to think about leaving.

2023.

I am thirty-two years old,

free for almost half a decade

and working three jobs,

living with my best friends

and making silly videos

for the internet

(for myself)

My feet still hurt and

my bones are still tired, but

I am finally happy

most days

(happier, anyway).

I make art with my hands

until I can’t anymore, and

sometimes I write and

sometimes I sing, and

sometimes I don’t do

anything at all.

I have Many True Loves now,

who don’t seem to mind

my poochy little belly,

who love all of the soft parts of me

I had starved for so long.

I wear whatever I want now;

crop tops and cutoffs,

bikinis and lingerie,

showing the world my stretch marks and

the roundness of me,

how my body curves and droops.

I wear my fatness like a badge of honor.

I am still here,

I think,

And this body carried me home.

Some days I am not so kind, but

even on days

when I do not love my body,

there are others who do.