#so like yesterday it was 70 fucking degrees

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with his Preggo Wife #9: At the Beach

Can be read with others in series or alone

Summary: You're not too confident at the beach with your body, but Joel's got the best remedy

Warnings: Super fluff!! Some sexy time at the end, unprotected sex, car sex, failed sex, fingering, 1 spank, heavier descriptions of pregnant body 

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You complain how hot it is, the grainy sand stuck on on your thighs, the hot sun blistering your sensitive skin, the onlookers you fear are gawking at your enormous size. The fact you have to wear a bikini now despite always having worn a full piece before the baby train docked. But it just wouldn't fit, and you had to buy a NEW (and even larger sized) two piece to accommodate your must larger figure.

 All of it makes you want to barf and hide in a closet. At the very least wrapped up in a towel—but of course, one towel doesn't even cover over your mid section anymore either!

Not that he's complaining. Joel pulls his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose to let all the light in and, with no shame, gets a glorious look at you as often as he can. You wearing a two piece with your accentuated body now so drastically changed because of him, just absolutely showcasing the evidence of your love making has him struggling to keep his cock down in his trousers. He wants to put his hands all over you and tell everyone yeah, this body? this belly? This woman? You see her? Mine. 

You didn't want to come to the beach. Okay, you did, like, yesterday, when you were scratching his arm off and begging to go sun bathe and wear your new sandals, but clearly, Joel couldn't recognize when you changed your mind last minute in the car ride without actually verbally telling him. He was so busy humming his little 70s tunes on the radio, glancing smiles at you and putting his warm hand on your fat thigh. Completely unaware, despite your reassuring smiles, that you wanted him to turn around right now and go home. Why couldn't the man just read your mind? Why do you have to explain everything to him word for word?

So here you are, a million degrees under the baking sun, sand in your sandals with the whole world of beautiful people apparently on this beach too. You stand there awkwardly, rubbing your arms hoping to shrink down to an ant and scurry away.

Trying to get to your knees is difficult at best, uncomfortable and pathetic, before settling on your bum with that massive tummy in the way of everything. You spread your legs and, fuck, you look like you might as well be pushing this baby out right now in this bloated birthing position. Could they kick you off the beach for looking like this???

Joel doesn’t pay any attention at all. He gets right to being a boy and digging a big hole in the sand like a 14 year old, despite his cracking knees and shifting groans from all the movement he’s got to do.

At least someone here is having a good time.

He carefully scoops the sand with his thick palm, making a smooth, rounded cavern. He even brought a tape measure, which he uses around your tummy first, strangely, and you don't even question it.

Once the hemisphere is dug to his satisfaction, smoothed over with his calloused fingers, he sits back and waves to you. 

You're picking little grains of sand off your moon-sized belly.

He coughs again, and you finally look up.

"Ta da!" He boasts proudly.

You throw your hands up defeatedly at his extremely unimpressive hole. "Okay?"

His lips draw tightly to a thin line, doubt crossing his face. “Wait, just—c’mere. Best part."

He grabs your hands and helps you to lie forward so that your belly has room to dip into the hole. And just like that, for the first time in months, you're lying on your front again.

It’s as if a massive ache in your back is suddenly relieved. "Oh my god! This feels amazing!" You cheer. The pressure your baby had been putting on your lower spine suddenly disappears, and all that weight is so perfectly supported by the carefully measured cradle he dug in the sand. It's been so long since you were in this position, you had dreams of the day you could again.

"Joel, you're—“

"Fuckin' amazin', I know darlin'."

He plants a special cooling pillow in front of you so you can rest your chin above the sand, no strain on your neck.

You sigh loudly, and extremely long, not even aware that it sounds like a pornographic moan.

"Behave, you," he tsks with a raised brow, his whispers tickling your ear.

"Mmmm.”

You wave him off, suddenly enjoying the warm heat of the sun on your bare back.

He lathers your exposed skin with gentle sun screen, massaging your shoulders, neck, sides. He takes special care to realllly rub your butt, 'so you don't burn.' Puts an umbrella over you too for good measure. With the reassuring feeling of Joels hands working out your muscles all over you, the crashing sound of waves in the distance and chirping seagulls, and feeling like you aren’t heavily pregnant for the first time in months, you quickly succumb to a nap.

-

Later when he's got food, double fisting some hot dogs, he sits you up and rubs the sand off your belly with a clean cloth. Joel scarfs the first one down, ketchup drooping down his wrist.

But you’re too distracted, and when you tell him its okay, he eats yours without a second thought. You laugh a little. Poor thing probably got baked under the sun too busy taking care of you.

He chews loudly, jaw working close with the amount of meat and mustard and bread bulging out. You lick your thumb and wipe away the droop of condiment spilling from his lips.

He playfully chases your hand with a bite, growling.

you shake your head. “You fucking weirdo.”

“Mmm. My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

His eyes rake over your body—skin radiant in the sun, so smooth and shiny from the oily sunscreen he had smoothed over you. Like something out of a dream. His dreams, to be exact. Not so appropriate dreams he may have already had after only the first week of dating you, and thinking about the day you might be exactly as you are—pregnant with a his ring on your finger.

Delirious with the sight of you, he leans in and starts kissing you, then groping and suckling alll down to your bloated belly.

"Joel, stop, people are gonna see!"

"Let them see, you're so fucking sexy right now.”

"STOP.” You grasp him a bit more firmly to pull his hungry mouth away from going any further down south. “We're not having sex right now. That's final. Now keep your bad boy parts in your pants.”

He pouts and grumbles, drawing away like a scolded child.

You watch as a group of kids play in the water and laugh, or two young girls collect more sea shells than their little hands can carry. Your hand absent-minded rubs over your belly, wondering what your baby is thinking right this moment. If she had thoughts. If she was listening and seeing through you, and feeling what you might be feeling right now.

Joel watches you. He can see that sense of distant longing in your eyes. 

Remembers when you first started dating, mid 20s and so young, and the first thing you said was you weren't sure about kids. He kind of knew he wanted at least one, but the more he got to know you, the more he was willing to give that idea up if it meant he got to keep you for the rest of his life. It took five years after you got married before he found you trembling but bravely presenting him a positive test, and he had to fight himself to keep all his emotions at bay in case you didn’t want this. You were so quiet, so unreadable. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it or not. 

Until you both went to your first ultrasound, and from that minute you saw the little blob on the screen, and the nurse said “meet mom and dad!” Your lives changed. The whole car ride home you were babbling excitedly about baby names, the color of the nursery, what your child might look like (you hoped she or he would look like Joel). 

You’re quiet right now like you were that day. He follows your eyes to the scene of all the kids playing together, their parents watching over and encouraging the sandcastle building or warning not to go too far out into the water: a happy family.

"I want more,” you say quietly, not really even addressing Joel as your eyes are stuck forward.

He just chuckles and shakes his head. “Baby, we still are working on getting one. Gotta wait before we can have another."

"I want her to have a sibling,” you mumble, holding your belly with both hands delicately.

He bends down and kisses your hand resting atop your swell. “I’ll give you as many as you want.... so long as it doesn't exceed two.”

Your head snaps back. “Three.”

"If there's 2, then that's 4 of us, which is the perfect number to sit at any restaurant. 4 is right. Plus a normal car sits 4 people comfortably. Do you really want a third baby being subjected to a middle seat?"

"Mini van?"

"We ain't getting a mini van. Over my dead body.”

"Well we can't use the truck!”

"Ya can put a baby seat in the truck."

You giggle at the imagery. "You've thought about this a lot haven't you, Mr. Miller?”

He's going off about why 4 also is the perfect number in most rollercoaster carts, but you can't help but just look at him, smiling warmly to yourself that you get to call this man yours.

“—I love you."

He stops mid sentence. A little jumped, but never surprised by your words. He caresses your cheek lovingly, his soft lips finding yours. "I love you too," he mumbles just hushed enough for only you to hear.

Your foreheads touch, as if you wanted your minds to meld into one. You kiss him again, then again a little more firmly. And more. Again, more—more, again. Until you're making out with him a little too passionately, your hand drifting south to his caress his Daddy belly and his Daddy parts—

He hand grabs your wrist to stop you. “Honey,” he warns. There’s a glint in his eye that is just barely keeping his mature brain functioning. With your tits all swollen and hefty with milk, spilling out of that poor excuse of a bra and begging for attention, along with your ass spilling out of that g-string-looking triangle hiding your more than likely wet flower... He’s unsure if he can't keep his erection at bay if you keep acting like this while looking like this.

"I want you," you breathe, your lips crashing on his.

"I want you too,” he hums between your insatiable teeth biting along his tongue. “But..."

"But?"

"You said no sex at the beach."

"I know. I'm waiting for you to get off your lazy ass and take me in the truck."

-

Joel had never packed shit up quicker in his life. He’s bunched up bottles and towels and sunglasses and whatever junk he had brought all up in a towel with one arm and ran barefoot to the parking lot, his other hand dragging you as you wiggled excitedly behind him. He throws it all in the truckbed and unlatches the door for you, helping you up with a quick smack to your sandy asscheek. He gets in and rolls up the windows. Not bothering to check if anyone is around. 

You pull him close and start shoving his shorts down.

Its hot and rushed and promising—until you quickly realize your baby does not want any truck-fucking business happening because there's no possible configuration the two of you can get in to have sex with the sheer size of your tummy in the way.

He can sense the tears of frustration welling in your eyes, immediately caressing you as he buckles you in and revs the truck to life. 

“It’s okay, its okay, it's okay, we'll have car sex again after she's born, how's that? Just a beautiful girl you are. Too sexy like this. Need to do it on a comfortable bed, that’s all. Can't have ya all to myself whenever I want, huh?"

You nod, desperate to suck up all your tears. Quite frankly you know that you ugly cry, and Joel knows you ugly cry, and you don’t want to ugly cry. You remember that your pussy is wet and waiting to get home so he can spoil you properly.

He continues to adoring rub over your belly, a constant affection of his touch reminding you to stay level. With one hand gripping the wheel, eyes trained forward, he glides down over your naval and urges you to part your legs.

You slip back a bit, giving him the widened access he needs to dip his middle under your bikini bottoms and between your slick folds. You moan loudly, hips arching forward to get more of his finger rubbing along your swollen clit.

“Joooeeeeeel,” you whimper impatiently. He can’t dip any more than an inch of his finger in you due to the stretch of his arm over you belly. Instead, he swipes along your slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it on your nub.

"Ahhh, oh sweetheart, you’re just drippin' me." He retracts his hand and plunges his finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue over and over and sucking your juices clean off with a pop.

You eye his bulge stabbing through his trousers. "I wish I could suck you off right now." You whine, squeezing your achy breasts and hoping he can steal a glance at you.

"Mmm, those were good times, huh?"

You groan, frustrated. Turns out the baby was cock blocking you in numerous ways from doing things you enjoyed in your youth. Your “youth” feeling like it just a few months ago when driving BJs were your favorite way of nearly getting pulled over.

Eventually you do get home, and you throw the seatbelt over. This baby was NOT stealing truck-fucking from you. Not. Today. 

Joel can’t stop your rush. You’re clambering over the dash, knee pressing into Joel’s bulge painfully and elbowing his chest trying to get into a position.

"Okay wait—just—OW! Hon—s-urgghh— HOLD ON.”

You maneuver him to sit at the center of the back seat, with your back facing him and ass hovering over his cock. He’s protectively holding your waist in your squatting position. You sit back slowly, moaning as he penetrates your slit. With both hands on either side of the front seats shoulders in front of you, you begin gently rocking and bouncing.

He holds your belly, guiding you up and down, back and forth on his dick

"Fuck. Fuck, I love you, Joel. I cant wait—nnmmm—to have your baby!"

He grumbles in agreement, watching the space where his length disppears into your sopping cunt and comes back wet and shiny from your arousal.

It feels fantastic after waiting so long, being so pent up and needy for each other since—like 20 minutes ago.

And There's about 18 more seconds of this before you're slowing down. Joel can feel it too: the awkward clench, slipping out of you every few seconds, creaking in the truck's seat, the wet scratchiness of the sand still wedged there, your hand on your back from the pain, unable to bounce on him with the weight of you, the overall struggle that’s paving way for very shitty, very uncomfortable, very unsatisfying sex. You stop altogether and sit in his lap with his cock impaling you, almost casually.

"I'm tired,” you sigh in defeat, out of breath.

Joel just nods behind you. He kisses your shoulder blade and helps you off him.

Baby: 1.

You: 0

“Bed is still open, if ya want it…” you mumble into his whiskered cheek before planting a soft kiss.

His excitement jolts him into a frenzied leap out of the truck. “Bathroom, then bed, and I expect to see your legs spread and naked.”

You giggle and the two of you part in different directions in the house.

Joel quickly uses the bathroom before tripping over his clothes while stripping, eager to finally make you cry about how good he’s going to pleasure you.

Only to find you nestled on the couch curled up with your hand perched under your cheek, drooling into the pillow. Even despite your sunkissed skin, the dryness of your lips from the salty ocean air, the sand you complained between your folds and wedged up your ass by your bikini didn't matter. As the afternoon warm sun bleeds from the drapes lulled you to a gentle rest, secure and safe in your own home. 

Joel kneeled beside you, cupping your cheek soothingly.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

You stir slightly, smiling with a hazy half conscious state. "I know," you respond cheekily, before nuzzling into his hand again and falling back asleep.

Joel stays there for hours, one hand resting over your belly, just watching the woman he's fallen so hard for, wondering what in the world he's done to deserve such a blessing.

- - - -

Permanent Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

#pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #last of us smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fluff #the last of us smut #last of us fic #last of us fluff #tlou smut #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fluff #joel dealing with preggo wife

[conspiring-limabean]

one issue i never thought about climate change is like. this spring has been nonsensical. theres been regular 70 degree days followed by snow followed by 70 degree days. and I know this isn't normal, because when I was little I raised praying mantis eggs, which involved taking careful note of the weather so that I could know when to allow them to hatch (as they will die if it snows or freezes after hatching)

and yesterday i went roaming around in the fields for 3 hours, and i found a ton of praying mantis eggs. which is cool as fuck. but i noticed that some (but not all) looked like they had already hatched--which is pretty worrisome, because the weather has been so chaotic I would very well not be surprised if it snows again. and if it does, all those babies will die.

they shouldn't be hatching at this time of the year--it's far too early for them. but they probably have because the weather's been so fucked up

and idk. that seems like the kind of thing that could have an unexpected domino effect. animals hatch from overwintering eggs or wake up from hibernation too early because they think the weather is warm and aren't prepared to survive when it snows again. or animals start getting busy and having babies or laying eggs that in turn don't survive when the weather turns. and you have no idea how much one species suffering too much from this could mess up the rest of the food chain

im just rambling. thanks for reading my post

[scarsmood]

Spiritual log #1

Aside, i've translated this to something I feel comfortable posting publicly nothing i've written is closed information. That being said be mindful and respectful. This is not a post to debate or spark controversy.

-Skin walkers-

I've been learning more about skin walkers from my mentor and find them interesting. From what I gather it's people that practice witch craft and are able to turn themselves into creatures. They have areas they patrol or live in that you should not go at night. When they get injured they'll turn back into their human shape having more hair than a typical person might. Snarling and feral at times they sound animalistic. I want to ask more about this but I don't feel i'm ready yet.

-non animate souls-

Something interesting I also wanted to note was the notion that any object that creates any energy is alive whether that is kinetic or potential it all seems to count as alive. I like this notion better than saying objects aren't alive because I don't think that's even neccesarily true. Objects can have different perspectives and shed light on something you might not have otherwise noticed. Dirt run off into a stream could signify a point of pollution similar to a wound.

Often the ground is alive and warm. When you walk into a cave it's never cold but a pleasant 70 degrees. Stones can speak to people and wood can bond to someone. Metal and man made objects are no different in this regard and it's important to treat every object with respect and dignity.

-gendered roles-

Roles are something inherent in human cultures but are less so important in spirituality. What some may consider feminine may actually be a gift from the gods for sensitivity and spiritual connection that people misinterpret. Taking the role of caring for others is often read as a womans role but for a medicine man it has no bearing on who they are. That doesn't mean other people won't heckle you or ask you to change it just means you know your being an authentic sense of self that doesn't need to change with creator at your side.

-ancestors-

Ancestors do not need to be clear by skin tone or relevance. Being guided to a path may be the most significant thing to listen to. Ancestors speak with us and help is through out life with advice and hints on what to do. It's important to listen to them and follow your instincts.

-lycanthropy and shamanism-

I feel as though clinical lycanthropy has the potential to be re-written spiritually as shamanism. The more I read about skin walkers, witches, medicine men and people that are atune with animals I realize my disorder is not a 'disorder' it's an unharnessed gift. These people learned to control their shifts in a way that was spiritually empowering and not distressing. More often than not I listen to my mentor and his experiences and notice some of my own the only difference being it seems as though he was never considered disordered for it and there is no negativity. In time he learned to intertwine that aspect of himself with his human self and they are both present.

I'm curious to see if I can do the same. If i remove the negativity associated with shifting how will I be?

-unreality trigger (i guess)-

I felt myself shifting at his home yesterday and it was quite powerful. I had to leave early that day suddenly because of it and I wasn't sure what was happening. It feels as though there's a wolf inside my chest gnashing it's teeth against my ribcage. My scared human self it horrified to let it out in a reasonable and safe way.

It seems like i was validated from my mentor saying I seem to be a wolf.

-trigger over-

It makes me want to go back to therian guide forums and go "fuck you! I was right! I am more of a wolf than you would ever be!"

I'll see how things go forward. But I know I want to open up and explain myself more clearly.

#otherkin #therian #spirituality #shamanism #personal spirituality #closed spirituality

[regular-lord-reckoner]

well, what a week this has been !!

our downstairs ac unit and our water heater decided to tear up at the exact same time !!

so, i spent a good chunk of yesterday just cleaning out the space to get the water heater so my mom wouldn't have to do any of it later

that was one good thing about it being 59 degrees down there! the upstairs one still works just fine but like....hot air rises so i even double checked, but yeah, 70 degrees with the fan on and it didn't do a damn thing for the downstairs so

anyway

i got it all cleared out and a plumber is supposed to be on his way now. he had some emergency cases come up but said he still wanted to come check it out.

my dad had told my mom that the water heater was going to go soon, so we kinda figured. i have taken two...very cold showers this week but it's all good. made the pink stay in my hair longer so there's that

had therapy after that but it was a good session so that was nice. she said i was doing better than i was a year ago and i guess i can see that. even a little bit of progress is still progress and even if i'm the only one that sees it

mostly what i've been dealing with is just...exhaustion. with all this wacky thermostat shit there have been so many nights the aux heat has kicked on downstairs and made it insufferable upstairs so i wake up at like 4 am and just can't get back to sleep

i've been working 50 hour weeks pretty much nonstop for months now but i'm trying to at least not get so stressed during the work day, especially when doing chores eats up all my time like it did yesterday

i ended up having to do all the work i was supposed to do yesterday today which ended up taking all day but i just took my time for the most part and tried not to get too overwhelmed for no good reason

good news, though!! i got it all done. i've been trying to help out my mom more since this whole neck/arm situation started a few weeks ago. i hate that she's been in pain for so long and we still don't really have any concrete answers.

her pcp just wanted to talk about other shit besides this injury but she did at least order an mri which i'm going with her to get done tomorrow so hopefully that'll give us some answers or at least figure out what to do next.

she's been able to get some relief but not entirely and it's also been causing her to lose sleep so we're a pretty sad bunch by the end of every week the pair of us but we're pulling through !!

in the mean time, someone did come out earlier about the ac and i think it ended up being something about the compressor? they'll have to order a part so it'll be sometime next week but i think the weather is supposed to get warmer then so if it takes a minute i think we'll be okay because i can then at least run the cool air upstairs and it should be fine downstairs

mom's keeping warm by the fireplace and has a heated blanket as well and she said at night she can run a little heater in her room and it works just fine so we'll be okay with that and i can take more cold showers if need be especially if it does heat up that's no problem

wild how the other day it started out 70 damn degrees and humid as shit and then it rained and dropped down to 40 degrees immediately

can't wait to see what kinda interesting spring weather we're about to have. also can't believe it's already march holy shit

the way i'm perceiving time these days is just completely and utterly fucked so that seems especially unreal to me

alright, i think i've rambled enough for now and i've typed a lot today so i'm going to give my fingers a rest (lol) and just scroll for a while, turn this old brain off as best as i can even though it never goes off completely

hope it's a good weekend for you if you're reading this, even if you have to work or have some other bullshit you don't want to do. try to get some rest somewhere in there and so will i <3

ps: plumber just got here !!

#nothing bad just my week

[dirtywrestling]

Quick life update:

Okay, so sadly I’m sick AGAIN!

Yesterday was like 70 degrees, had a tornado warning and now ITS FUCKING SNOWING. So this weather is literally fucking with my body and everything but hopefully once spring is finally here my body will go back to normal or whatever

I was even hitting the gym all last week now I’m sick and too tired to even go. But yeah that’s all that’s really going on lol.

ALSO

I just saw on TikTok that people are stealing fanfics and binding them as books and selling them. Now I’m not saying my shit is good enough to do this but a lot of people have been deleting their fanfics because of this and YES! These people are making money off of it! So I’m skeptical on publishing rn but I will! Please trust me, I will!

#update

[nyxneon]

I like fanvids and edits on tiktok but whenever I get videos about books...dear god, it's like getting slapped in the face. (This is about Stephen King's Carrie.)

So, yesterday I happened to see a video where a girl was complaining about how Stephen King described Carrie, in particular her body and how she got her first period. However, the whole thing was very... vague. What i got was that "he was creepy and disgusting and he should have never been allowed to write about underage girls". (Does this remind you of anything???? Because this does remind me of some specific fandom discourse... but I digress) so I went to the comment section, and 99% of the comments were actually about THAT infamous IT scene. So, yeah, it wasn't very enlightening as to what the fuck was wrong with King's depiction of Carrie...

So, let me ramble a bit about this.

I first read Carrie (in the italian translation) when I was about...14/15 I think. (So, about 23 years ago, for reference.) Bought a cheap paperback at the supermarket (yes). And I read it and re-read it. I think I know some bits by heart. I loved it. And why? Let me tell you.

First of all, as a teen who felt awkward and fucking ugly, I saw a lot of myself in Carrie. The descriptions of her body, which apparently creeped out those people in the tiktok video, felt right to me. It conveyed disgust and curiosity and the potential for pleasure. Idk if you get what I mean...

(Also, btw, all the people grossed out on tiktok forget that Carrie is actually at least 16 in the story so...i mean, she's not a baby. Also the story is set in the 70s if I remember correctly, and you don't need to have a history degree to know that at the time people...well, were doing a lot of "grown up stuff" around 16/17. That's just how...it was. But apparently gen z have no sense of history whatsoever.... sorry.)

Moreover, people were getting offended (so I gathered) because King was "kinda disgusting and creepy" because he wrote about Carrie getting her first period like that. *major sigh here*

Look, i got my first period when I was 11. And it was fucking traumatic for me. Basically, i've been having periods longer than the people in the video and comments have been alive. Periods are nasty, uncomfortable and a pain in the ass. They're gross... they suck. King described the whole thing in a way that felt...real. (and also symbolic in a way, but this is for another time.)

A man can't write about it? Why? No, don't answer... i'm afraid i know the reasoning behind this brand of idiocy.

I gathered that they complained about the sexual undertones. Have those people ever been teenagers? Teens have sex on their minds quite a lot. I was like that and I was also pretty annoying and weird about it.

And lots of the comments were about how King was high on coke most of the time back when he wrote his most famous stuff and I was... baffled. Lots of artists have created great stuff while being high as fucking kites... y'all are clearly not so open-minded and accepting of drugs as you claim to be if you're dismissing King's writing because he was on drugs.

Also, one last thing that made me laugh:

Someone in the comments wrote that "King is considered high art while twilight is considered crap". My sibling in Christ, I can assure you that Stephen King is definitely not considered high art anywhere. He's a genre writer and genre writers are basically never considered high art. Like, at all.

#not to be a worse asshole than usual #nyxneon's personal ramblings #this time about literature

[possumsinpeoplesuits]

Hard Lessons in Cosplay

So, I decided to go to the Texas Ren Faire yesterday, and after nearly dying by being a bit of a thembo, I'm here to share what I've learned so that my fellow people-who've-never-done-this-before won't also end up nearly unconscious because of a bomb-ass outfit.

So, first off, the good parts. While I didn't bump into any friends there, and I didn't see any other Locked Tomb cosplayers there, a lot of people liked the costume anyways! Also, the fans in the mask were a lifesaver, as having a way to keep my face out of the sun while still having a steady breeze was absolutely key to making it through the early morning's 70 degree weather.

Now, for the parts that sucked.

So, you know how I mentioned it was 70 degrees in the morning, despite it being late October? Well, at around noon, that hit to 80 degrees. I started the day with a 1.5 liter bottle full of cold Gatoraide, but that got drained fairly quickly, and was soon replaced with 80 degree tap water from a water fountain. I was still okay on hydration, but I was losing electrolytes fast, and could no longer cool down as easily. To give a visual, this is how much I was sweating before I took the coat off:

I took that picture the next day, after leaving the coat to dry all night. It was STILL that wet.

So, I made my only smart decision of the day: I started heading towards the exit, to call off my first outing before the dehydration got dangerous. The only unfortunate part is, it took me almost two hours to find the exit, because I was getting a little delirious and couldn't remember where I came in, and my map had soaked through with sweat and become unreadable.

But I made it! At around 3 or 4pm, I got out of the faire, ready to get into my car, crank the AC, and laugh off the whole thing. That... did not happen. Because I had no idea where I parked.

Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but the parking lots for the faire were divided into 30 rows, each roughly... two hundred yards or so long? So too long for my key fob to set off the alarm after walking the space in the middle of the rows.

I walked all the way to the end, then started walking back, and started stumbling because my body was starting to not work due to the heat. Some guy on a golf cart gave me a ride to the front, and I misunderstood him when he handed me a card of where I was picked up at so they could take me back when I recovered.

My dehydrated brain read it as "This is definitely where your car is, start walking again, you're almost done." So I walked there, checked all 200 yards of the combined north and south aisles... then walked back to the entrance, sat for a while to try to think up a plan, then when I went to ask someone working the entrance what to do... just kinda started blacking out.

So I sat at one of the stands outside the entrance, and while the lady running the stand didn't have the contact for the medics, she did give me some ACTUALLY COLD WATER, which didn't immediately cure my exhaustion, but cooled my brain down enough to work.

I eventually decided, hey... it's getting close to closing time. Eventually, everyone'll leave, it'll be cooler, and I can rest my legs for a bit. Someone even gave me a wet wipe to wipe the STALAGMITES OF SALT CRYSTALS off my chin.

This did, however, mean that I would be looking for my car at night. Normally, I'm pretty confident at night because I'm A. Fairly fit, and though I've been on HRT for about twelve years, I do still have them AMAB shoulders, and B. I was very, VERY heavily armed, with two two-handed Cold Steel Latin machetes, and a back up knife in my fanny pack.

But, again... I'd already fainted once, I was running on empty since I hadn't eaten since that morning, and was about 9 hours into my 10 hour death march under the Texas sun. So by 8pm, in the woods, alone, I was fucking scared. I even considered just stumbling to a main road and calling an Uber, but I was afraid that being summoned to the woods by a masked goofball wearing machetes on their legs might be, as the kids would say, sus as hell.

And finally, FINALLY, at 8:30, I found my car. After systematically searching every aisle past the reserved spots, starting from where a worker estimated I would've been parked at 10am, and searching another eight of the 200-yard aisles... I finally heard my car beep.

I proceeded to drive directly to a gas station, drink an entire cold bottle of pedialyte, then went to a chicken place and DEVOURED as much protein and fried pickles as I could, drank another liter of gaotraide, a 32 ounce soda, and made it home.

The damage? Aside from the usual chaffing, and some little marks where the knee pads were bumping into the upper part of my shin, I ended up with blisters on the pads of both feet, and one that took the entirety of my heel. My mask had worn through the skin of my nose, I was missing a section of skin on my thigh because I had a forgotten soda in that pocket, I was sore as hell, and was still five pounds lighter than when I left that morning. I also had to get up and drink some more gatoraide in the middle of the night because I was feeling feverish, but now that morning is here, I'm feeling much more alive.

So, the lessons I've learned is... bring more to drink than 1.5 liters if you're going to be outside, consider cutting the lining of a heavy coat out to stay cool, remember where the fuck you parked, and if you do end up on a ten hour death march under the Texas sun, consider bringing a necromancer with you. You might need them.

#cosplay #our lady of the passion tlt #our lady of the passion #the locked tomb #I was also wearing my “resting butch face” shirt #It should have been my shirt with Thembo written in the Barbie font. #ren faire

[brotheralyosha]

Yesterday, frequent Sunday talk show panelist and humiliation fetishist Chris Christie joined the race for the Republican nomination. He joins a group of ten(!) candidates who have already declared for the race. He also joins a group of five other mainstream politicians—Tim Scott, Nikki Haley, Ron DeSantis, Asa Hutchinson, and Mike Pence—competing for the “Not Trump” vote. A few more candidates might still be coming. There are varying calculations that go into running for president, and everyone is motivated to some degree by the thought that the free media that goes with a campaign might be good for their careers even if they lose, but on the whole, each one of these candidates is making the implicit argument that they will be the one who will rally the party’s majority—the 60 or 70 percent of Republican voters who are not solid for Trump—to their side, and sweep to victory.

They won’t. Instead they will divide the vote and Trump will win the primaries. (Unless he drops dead.) Watch.

The single funniest political story I have read so far this year was this Politico story detailing the pitch that Ron DeSantis’s advisors were giving to top donors on the even of his campaign launch.

They conceded that the former president would likely not go below roughly 35 percent support in a primary but that such a floor allowed for DeSantis, his strongest rival, to take a larger share of the remaining 65 percent of the vote.

Uh, sure. That’s one way to look at it. Another way to look at it is “you are starting out 35 points in the hole.” Another way to look at it is, “ten of us will fight like dogs over two-thirds of the electorate, each huddling in our corners with a small percentage in our mouths, while Donald Trump luxuriates in a series of 35/17/17/15/9/7 victories.” DeSantis’s straight-faced pitch to donors sounds like a losing football coach telling his team at halftime, “We may be down by four touchdowns but there are potentially dozens of touchdowns left to be scored, so we are actually ahead.” If you suspected that major Ron DeSantis donors are dumb, you are onto something.

If the Republican Party had any remaining grip on itself, it would have viciously intimidated and bribed as many people as necessary to clear the field for a single main opponent to Trump. But Trump broke it quite thoroughly. The Republican Party as a party today operates in the sort of bumbling, ineffectual way that Democrats have long imagined their own party. A single sick bastard with TV charisma was enough to steamroll all of the party’s power brokers. They are still afraid to attack him. Watching candidates flood into the Republican primary and do their little campaign simulacrums and strenuously pretend that they will be able to dislodge Trump from their party without ever saying a bad word about him—by outsourcing all Trump criticism to Chris fucking Christie, of all people, my god—is one of the most pathetic spectacles I ever hope to witness. Unlike in 2016, today they do not even have the excuse of saying that nobody saw this coming. We have seen this same movie, exactly, before.

I do not consider this analysis to be a demonstration of some profound wisdom. I just want to give you the option of saving yourself a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth over the next year. If ten or a dozen people are competing for 51% of a pie and one guy starts out with 35% of the pie it is not looking good for everyone else. If you had the opportunity to design a crusade to defeat the guy with the 35%, the very first conclusion you would draw would be “we better not have ten people running against him.” Republicans have already failed that test. We have all spent the past eight years inventing reasons why Trump is just about to collapse. I covered the 2015 cattle call primary event in Iowa where Trump got on stage and said about John McCain, “I like people who weren’t captured.” As soon as he said that, all the full time campaign trail reporters leapt up and ran out to file stories about how Trump had just torpedoed his chances. That, like the many insane remarks and scandals that were still to come, was not the case. It seemed like a reasonable assumption at the time, sure. We can’t expect people to be psychic, but we can expect people to learn from the past.

Donald Trump’s base is a statistical minority of the Republican Party. Their inability to outmaneuver him is perhaps the first time in history that Republicans have failed to figure out a way to persecute a minority. The problem is that they are all cowards. With few exceptions, Republican politicians are barnacles who are happy to go down with the ship as long as they can continue clinging safely to its side. You will hear some of these candidates launch some attacks on Trump when they finally conclude that they have no choice. They may even say, as they have at certain opportune times before, that he is a bad, dangerous person. But when they lose to him, they will do the thing that is in their nature: They will fall in line.

#us politics #current events #hamilton nolan

[h0mulily]

my relationship sucks lately,

I feel like roommates, we even sleep in separate bedrooms because my bfs snoring is out of control. I pay almost 70% of bills and rent and my bf complains about being a malewife because he does a lot more chores than me because one he has three days off a week, and.... I pay almost 70% of the bills and rent so I think it is fair. I could probably stand to pick up an extra chore or two and that's fine but I am not interested in splitting them 50/50 at all when I contribute much more financially (I also buy most of our groceries).

Recently he was gone for five days and when he came home he was like oh everything is so clean and the counters are clean, thanks for cleaning! But I didn't clean, I just don't make messes like he does. He leaves glasses everywhere and instead of putting things in the dishwasher he sets them on the counter or in the sink to fill with dirty water and sit all week. I don't want to clean up his messes so I don't and then he complains about cleaning the dishes. The house looks like a fucking disaster since he's returned and he's only been back a day and a half.

I feel like his mother telling him to put things in the dishwasher instead of the sink or on the counter, I pay for the fact that he likes the house at 73 degrees and I like it at 75 or 76 if I'm cold (I'm cold a lot recently), that he takes showers every day (I'm an every other day shower type of girlie), sometimes twice a day, and thinks we need to run the washing machine 2-3 times a week (I pay for the water and electric). I have to remind him to do things and it drives me up the wall.

He tries to engage in sex with me but I just am so uninterested. He just gropes my boobs and tells me I'm pretty and wants to stick it in right away and I'm just so uninterested I lay there doing nothing.

I don't think I'm really attracted to him anymore (was I ever?) And I've started being a lot more mean recently i think because I think I hate my life.

We never cuddle, he's never affectionate, we never even sit on the same couch. We go out to eat once a week but that's it. We saw a movie yesterday and held hands and that's the most affectionate he's been in idk how long.

I think I am resentful and it's making me angry. I moved over 600 mi away from everything I've ever known and loved for THIS??

I want my bf to take better care of himself, I want him to lose weight and be affectionate and stop complaining about all the fucking chores when he's the one who makes most of the messes.

this post ended up being a lot longer than I intended oof

#shut up Lisa #just venting UGH #personal #really personal

[heartsinthebasement]

Hey, this is your secret Santa! I’d like to know more details on what you would like. Are there any prompts in the kink meme blog that interest you?

Hello and thank you writing a fic for me! In answer, yes there are! I mean almost any of the Mclennon ones really but here are a few that specially appealed. I generally operate on the ‘they were madly in love with each other but never talked about it’ level of Mclennon UST psychodrama, so anything that plays with that (and/or resolves it) would be amazing. That said, at the same time I also hold the position of ‘SURELY TO GOD they must’ve talked about it/consummated it/openly acknowledged it to each other because it would be just another aspect of their intimacy’. I know all that is fairly broad so here are a few of the prompts that appealed most. I hope this is helpful!

Someone in John’s staff sells his diaries to the press in the 70s. They’re printed in the papers. They contain his feelings about Paul. They are him pining over Paul. Paul reads them.

Would LOVE some proper Paul!whump where John’s super apologetic and tender. Dealer’s choice on the degree of hurt, anything from Paul being upset after John makes fun of Yesterday to something more serious like some whackjob taking HDYS to heart and attacking him

Something set around the time when John yelled “I wish I was back with Paul!” at Yoko and/or when he fucked that woman at the election night party within earshot of Yoko (and everyone else). He must have been thinking about Paul the whole time, right?

John/Paul telepathy - they accidentally start hearing each other’s thoughts at random

#beatles secret santa #anon #questions #mclennon #beatles kink meme

[cheddar-inq]

I wonder what causes lizards and snakes to just. Lay eggs.

Mostly beardies because of Rolly

We were told by her former owner that she laid eggs once before, and she's five years old, but not even three months after getting her she laid eggs

I wonder what exactly makes them do that? Because it's clearly not good for them and its incredibly stressful and it takes a LOT of nutrients to make the eggs, esp calcium

Ofc rolly is back to good health and she's eating fine, she was acting very weird two weeks after laying eggs but she's back to normal, the guess is that she was just very hungry and decided not to show it the first week after

Is it the change in environment, like her new furniture and new house and new owners?

Is it the change in temperature, since we got her a second heat lamp that bumped her temps by around 10 degrees? (Her temps were at like a 70 before but now they sit at about 80, she's a big fan)

I'm not too sure why she laid eggs but. I mean. Whatever

That was a LOT to put on a brand-new lizard owner so suddenly though. Why did she do that !!!!!

Also yesterday she pooped on my carpet for the second time and fucking licked it and I watched her visibly recoil and run off. Girlie why did you do that what was the point surely you're old enough to know it doesn't taste good

[automatedtellertellermachine]

Feb 22nd 2024

ok so i woke up at 6 and then i watched grian, i decided to read a tma chatfic whilst listening to cassiopeia and confidant, after i finished reading that i started reading yesterday is here, again, oops ig

1st, we edited, we learned how to do j cuts and L cuts, easy as hell but yknow

2nd we did fucking kickball, i hate kickball so much, i was sweating more from anxiety than the fucking 70 degree weather

3rd, we did a test review, it was easy and then i braided two little bits of my hair

at lunch sadie bought me sour patch kids and i feel really bad

4th, i did geography quizzes and read, every time i  look up and see chloe (friends friend) i am reminded how much i really don’t like her

5th, we did our south west asia maps and i finished mine within minutes of being in the room, so then i drew a map of europe and northern africa, because i was bored (didn’t end up finishing until the end of 6th)

6th, we did our wiz quiz and i genuinely didn’t think i’ve gotten as many derivatives as today before, then i finished my map, because there was nothing better to do

7th i redid one of my braids, then played minesweeper, i also fixed a couple mistakes on my map

#attmfeb2024 #attmenrtries

[monstersliveinthemirror]

I am so angry. It is 70 degrees when it was in the 30s like yesterday what the fu k I'm so hot fuck this noise

[fuckallgenderroles]

What the fuck it's 38 degree with a feels like of 34, why is it so cold. I'm only 2 hours north of were I was before and it wasn't this cold. It was 60-70 yesterday. What is this

#why is it so cold #winter sucks #im freezing over here

[th3-third-duffel-bag]

weather where I live is so fucking weird man. like two days ago it was like 90 FUCKING DEGREES I'm not even kidding (Fahrenheit) and yesterday if was like 70 ish. and TODAY it was almost 50 degrees and I guarantee tomorrow it gonna be like 80.

#my rants

[indramond]

Life Lesson 101: F' Around & Find Out

As much as I dislike the saying "in this day and age"...I'm going to use it in regards to a serious life lesson. In this day and age, it's not wise to pull up on others. Whether at their house, job, church, or etc. Because you never know when you will come across the wrong one. Or as I like to call them "the Right One". I say all of this after the verdict in the Travis Rudolph murder trial. Now I didn't know the details of this case until I researched it yesterday. The jury made the right decision and I'm so happy that Travis was found not guilty on all counts. For more information on this case here is a link to an article about it:

While it is sad that a young man lost his life, and another young man had to take a life to defend his and his family's, this was a situation of "fuck around and find out". Choosing to confront someone at their home doesn't always end well. Especially when you're riding around with other people who are up to no good, and are carrying a weapon. All of this senseless chaos and death because a female was in her feelings about her ex-boyfriend talking to another woman. People, especially the young bucks of the Zillennial Generation (aka Gen Z), need to learn and understand how to handle conflict and tense situations in an appropriate manner. This is not the 70s where you can just run up to someone's house and try to attack them. There's a reason some states, such as ratchet ass Florida, have the Stand Your Ground Law. So please be smart out here and don't think you can just run up on everyone or anyone without consequence. Rant over!

Peace & Love- E