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chimivx · 5 months ago

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That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 10k (part TWO of ten) ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

september 5th ~ friday ~ 1:06 p.m

The library in the center of Nasara’s campus could house a titan. Tall sculpted ceilings towered over you as you browsed the shelves that also towered over you. Spacious, every footstep echoed over the marble floors, the only sound to be heard from anyone who set foot inside. Two stories high, the building held history in the city of Delo before becoming the center of Nasara, the campus having been built up around the stone giant.

Classes started next week, Monday morning, and you’d be lying if you said the ATZ ban didn’t help you get a fabulous head start on preparations for the semester. The nights you’d spend dancing in their living room were spent with your sisters instead, putting plans into place and checking in that everyone had what they needed for their classes.

Which brought you here, the Conoscenza Library. There was one text book you needed for an Analytics class that you didn’t want to drop hundreds of dollars on. Thankfully, Conoscenza would let you keep it for the months you needed it. Now, if only you could find it.

Securing your bag over your shoulder, an old leather thing, a vintage find in a thrift store thanks to Tori a couple months ago, you held onto the strap and rounded another row of shelves, having little luck nearing the end of the A section. It didn’t help that the shelves were several feet high, higher than you were tall. Taking a few steps backward against the shelves opposite the ones you were searching, you craned your neck to the shelf just out of reach and groaned aloud.

There it was. Your Analytics textbook.

Nestling your brows over your eyes you stepped directly in front of it and reached up, stretching your arm as far as it would go, going as far as to lift yourself up on your tiptoes. Your fingertips brushed the front of the dusty shelf, nowhere near close to grabbing the book. Touching your heels back to the floor you exhaled heavily and tried again, getting only a smidgen higher than last time. Bad day to wear flat strappy sandals.

“Need some help?”

His voice came from around the corner, the warmth hitting you before the realization of who it was set in. Feet back on the floor, arms down by your sides, you squeezed your eyes shut and took a breath before turning to him.

Yunho, leaning against the shelves, wore a smile. His hair was pushed over his eyes, styled strategically, it just brushed his thin framed glasses. In a beige hoodie with a grey flannel overtop, he paired the fit with dark blue jeans and white sneakers. There was a chain around his neck peeking at you from the collar of his hoodie. Your eyes lingered there for a second.

He moved his hand, reaching up for the silver chain, twirling it around his fingers. His long, slender fingers.

“What did you say?” you asked, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.

The smile never left his face, his perfectly squishy cheeks perked up while he watched you. “I asked you if you needed help.” He gestured toward the book with the fingers tangled around his chain.

Sighing, you glanced up at it, then back to Yunho and shrugged. “Yeah, I do.”

His soft laugh made your heart skip a beat, and you wished it wouldn’t. Crossing the row of books, coming closer to you he didn’t give you time to get out of the way. Caging you up against the books, he reached both arms up and effortlessly grabbed the textbook. Breath hitching in your throat, his scent had the power to charm you. A gentle musk mixed with something woodsy. Comforting. Exactly what he was. Exactly what he had the power to do. Comfort you.

Centimeters between you, he looked down with that same damn smile and handed you the book.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

Yunho whispered back, “Anytime.”

His sweet brown eyes shifted toward your lips and your heart sunk into your gut. “I’ll see you again, sometime.” Darting from in front of him, you started down the row of shelves, removing yourself from the situation before it became a situation.

“Rory,” Yunho called after you, his voice echoing within the section of the library you were in. Your feet had a mind of their own. You wanted them to keep going, but they stopped, and then they turned you around. With his arms out at his side he shook his head. “What’s going on?”

Taking him in, all you could see was Mina.

Their amazing summer dates. Their nights spent sharing their deepest thoughts with one another. Their movie-esque summer kisses.

Since Tuesday, these last couple of days spent with Mina, he’d hardly come up unless it was another member asking her about him. Keeping it to yourself, everything she’d shared with you, you didn’t even tell Tori. Mina’s business was her business, and in this world, everyone was in everyone's business. The sophomore didn’t deserve that. She deserved a good guy that didn’t come with drama, one who treated her right and appreciated her family.

If any member of ATZ was going to do that, it was Yunho.

You’ve been friends with him long enough to know that he was a decent human being. You just wished he’d told you how serious this Mina thing was.

“The rules,” you said, keeping your voice low so it wouldn’t carry through the shelving. Yunho dropped his hands and rolled his eyes.

“Since when are you one to follow rules?”

He wasn’t wrong. It was you and Tori, rules didn’t exist for the two of you.

Swallowing hard, you shrugged. “Since I got really fucked over.”

Yunho took a breath, you watched his chest rise and fall. He started toward you, stopping when there was a few inches between you on the marble floor. “You were over him a month ago.” His half whisper struck you across the face.

“Yeah, because I was under you.”

He winced, glancing upward. “Can you tell me what’s going on, for real?” He looked at you, eyes full of something you despised. “Is it really the rules? I half expected you to sneak out and show up one of these nights, but… neither you nor Tori have. At least she tells Mingi she’s not coming.”

“I don’t owe you that,” you said, and it was as if your words physically hurt him with the way he changed his gaze. “We’re not in a relationship, we’re not dating.”

“We’re friends,” Yunho said, his hands flying out at his sides again. “Rory, what did I do?”

Stepping closer to him, closing the open air between you, you narrowed your eyes and tightened your lips. “Mina,” you whispered, and his eyes did that thing where they got all soft. “Mina, Yo.”

“Wh-What about her?” he stammered, his eyes frantically flickering from either of yours.

“You pursued her,” you said with a nod, stating the obvious. “Come on, genius boy. You had an entire summer fling with her, you met her family, you had dinner with them, then we fucked in the backseat of your car parked at the lake in Sicuro.”

Yunho blinked, a sort of shame overcoming him. “She told you guys a lot,” he said.

“She did,” you said. “And I have to act like we weren’t hooking up all summer.” The boy could write essays upon essays, and here he was before you, speechless. “I knew you guys were getting closer last semester and stuff, everyone had guessed that it would be you and her to pair off with one another.” He watched you with remorse, but not enough of it. “Tuesday night, at the party. Tori asked me where I went.”

“Outside. The noise was nauseating, Wooyoung pissed us off, and you had too much on your mind.”

“Exactly,” you said within a breath. Word for word, what you both said you would say.

Outside. The noise was nauseating, Wooyoung pissed you off, and you had too much on your mind.

Which wasn’t a lie, you did have too much on your mind. Between Yeji becoming a dictator, Wooyoung forcing himself into your space all over again like nothing had happened and he hadn’t ignored you until this semester started, and now this thing with Yunho that couldn’t turn into anything because of the sophomore living in your house…

“I had Mina asking me the next night what we were talking about, if you were okay ‘cause she hasn’t heard from you,” you said. “I had to lie to my best friend. No one knows what we’ve been doing. After hearing about your lovey dovey summer, how can I say anything to any of them?”

Yunho creased his brow, slowly grazing a finger over the back of your hand where it hung at your side.

“No one can know we hooked up at the party,” you said, thinning your lips. Yunho wore something like a pout while he barely nodded his head. “I will not be a Yeji.” The circles he drew over your hand enticed you to flip your palm over, the tips of your fingers grazing the tips of his. “Mina likes you, Yunho.”

He exhaled, the space between you growing smaller with every passing second. “I like you, Rory.”

“I like you too, Yo,” you breathed.

His smile was pure. “I know you do,” he whispered, low and raspy, then pressed his lips to your own.

It took three seconds for you to push him away, yanking your hand from his, pressing both to his chest. But, for three seconds he had you.

“Stop,” you sighed. He took a step back and touched his fingers to his lips. “We can’t do this.”

Yunho dipped his head back and groaned to himself. “Why?”

“It’s unfair,” you said. “To either of us. I’m not over Wooyoung and you have feelings for Mina.” Yunho shrugged, glancing about the library. “Don’t do that, you have feelings for Mina.”

“Do I?” Half a laugh came out of him. “It was a lot of work trying to keep up with all of that shit.”

Yes, him.

Yes, Yunho.

“That’s nice to hear,” you tightened your gaze on him, “That she was a lot of work. What does that make me? Easy? A floozy? A slut?”

He reached out his hands to hold onto your shoulders, caressing the fabric of your ITZ crewneck. “No, no, no,” he muttered, his head shaking entirely too fast. “Don’t say that, I didn’t mean that, I wasn’t implying anything.”

“Really?” Shaking his hands away, off of you, he held them to his chest and flipped his eyebrows over. “If Mina, the nicest girl I have ever met, is a lot of work… What does that make me?”

Taking a hand into his hair he blew air from his lips and messed with his locks. “Rory,” he mumbled, dropping his hand after gesturing toward you, letting it smack against his thigh. “It makes you Rory, the girl I’ve had a crush on since she sat next to me in that English class.” With a shake of his head he darted his tongue between his lips and said, “Wooyoung fucked you over, I won’t do that.”

Holding the book over your chest, grabbing it with both arms, keeping a line of defense between the two of you, you smiled. “Like you aren’t doing to Mina right now?”

Turning on your heels you left him behind, letting the hurt turn your heart ice cold… If you could call it hurt.

After Yeji and Wooyoung made it downstairs leaving you and Tori speechless in the doorway of Hongjoongs bedroom, Yunho was the first from the group of boys on the stairs to hurry up to where you were paralyzed in place. Seonghwa and Yeosang followed, of course, but Yunho was the first to appear. He took you in his arms, one hand cradling behind your head, fingers knotting in your hair.

Tori was lost in whispers with Seonghwa and Yeosang, the three of them moving down the hall to give you a moment. She told them everything, between pulses of your heartbeat in your ears you could hear it in their gasps and disapproving groans.

Yunho held you until you started to cry. He held you, and played with your hair, and rubbed a hand along your back as you mumbled to him everything Tori had just told his friends. At some point the two of you ended up on the floor, Yunho leaning against the railing of the staircase with his too long legs stretched out along the hall. Sitting opposite him, one leg between his and the other bent so you could lean on it, you shared whispers, deciphering the entire situation.

There wasn’t much he could say to make anything better. Nothing he could do would fix anybody’s feelings, or make it all go away… But, his presence was enough. Aside from Tori, he’s been your longest, closest friend at Nasara, whether people paid attention to that fact or not. He knew a lot about you, and you knew a lot about him. You cared for him, you cared for each other.

And that made walking away from him all the more painful.

Despite the blurry lines this summer created, it didn’t feel worth it losing a friend.

Stopping at the end of the row you turned around. He was still there, hands in his pockets now, standing over six feet tall with his puppy eyes watching you walk away. Meeting his gaze, he didn’t falter. If anything, the corner of his lips perked up.

“I get it,” he said, as if he could see the gears grinding away in your brain. “I promise you, I do.”

“Then, what happens next?” you asked, fingers tightening around your textbook.

Yunho took a step backward and shrugged his shoulders. “You stay my friend.”

A breath corrupted your lungs. “And, what if we can’t do that?”

He narrowed his eyes and flashed you that smile. “We will,” he said. “We’ll try.”

september 5th ~ friday ~ 5:48 p.m.

[youknow everythin]: I think you should still try to come to the party tonight

[you]: there is no way out of this house

[you]: there is no such thing as sneakin around yeji

[youknow everythin]: …

[youknow everythin]: I have faith in you & Tori

[youknow everythin]: Especially Tori

[you]: thanks.

[youknow everythin]: You’re welcome <3

[you]: don’t ever send that heart again

[youknow everythin]: …

[youknow everythin]: <3

Slamming your phone down on the marble counter Tori jumped a mile, the ice in her glass rattling. Leaning over the flat top you drug your hands over your face and groaned aloud, letting your fingers slide through your hair.

“What happened?” Tori asked, cracking open a can of red bull, pouring it into the glass in front of her.

Leaving the library around two, parting ways with Yunho, when you came back home you spent an hour or so in your bedroom, organizing and reorganizing what you would need for Monday’s classes. Tori popped in and out, working on her own tasks for recruitment and future events that would need to be announced soon, and then the two of you spent about two hours on the floor stalking Instagram accounts and talking about Isla, or Mina.

When it came to the sophomore you didn’t have much to say, but you forced yourself to give your input, some side of the story so you wouldn’t be suspicious.

Tori was your best friend, but she’d never know what happened with Yunho.

If Mina didn’t spill her heart out it’d be a different story.

“The guys want us at ATZ tonight,” you said, giving her a knowing look.

Tori crunched the can in her hand and walked around the island to throw it away, her mind working, then she returned to her glass, took a sip, and bobbed her head.

“Who’ve you got on the phone?”

“Yunho,” you said. “I saw him at the library earlier.”

Tori sipped her drink, nodding some more. “Mingi has said some stuff, too.”

“Like what?” Your voice was small. Quiet. Almost afraid.

“About us not being there,” she said, setting the glass down. Lifting a hand she adjusted her nose piercings and shrugged. “You and I, Yuna and Ryujin… They want us around. Mingi said Yunho’s even brought up Mina, but I dunno if we’d get her to sneak out.”

“She’s too ‘good girl’ to sneak out,” you mumbled, pointing your eyes to your phone screen that lit up. youknow everythin at it again. Opening the message, you scoffed.

[youknow everythin]: Please come to the party tonight <3 <3 <3

Typing back a mile a minute, you didn’t catch Tori circling the counters to end up at your side.

“What’s with the hearts?” she asked, startling you. Locking your phone you dropped it to the marble and shot her a glare. “Sorry,” she giggled. “You weren’t listening to me, I wanted to see what was so interesting.”

With a deep breath you groaned. “Nothing is interesting, I’m just being pestered by a grown adult with the mentality of a four year old.”

Tori screwed her face up in confusion and twirled around where she stood, her long waves brushing over your arm. She hopped up onto the counter, saving her drink from spilling, from experience. “Yunho has the mentality of a four year old?” About to sip from her cup, she cut herself short, eyes going wide, “You sure you aren’t talking to Wooy-”

A rash laugh blew through your lips, your eyes blazing into hers. “I’m sure!”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, then waited four seconds before sipping her Red Bull. Your phone lit up again, Tori looking at it this time. “youknow everythin,” she sang like a song, swinging her head to look back at you. She was telling you something. Under the little smirk that grew she was saying something, and it was threatening to turn you red. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked to break the silence that was deafening, you’re certain only for you.

Shaking your head the slightest, you shrugged. “I guarantee you I am not.”

She laughed once. “How are you not!?”

Glancing to your hands hovering by your phone that has lit up again, you messed with your fingers and muttered, “I got a lot on my mind.”

Tori leaned toward you, a hand grabbing onto your shoulder. She gave you a shake, and then another to get you to look at her, and when you did, she whispered, “We’re going to that party.”

[youknow everythin]: I miss you. I just want to see you. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to… I understand, you know I do. You just feel like my best friend right now, I don’t want to lose that.

september 6th ~ saturday ~ 12:03 a.m.

ATZ’s house stood three stories tall on the corner of the street opposite ITZ, three blocks south of the sorority. In the dark it was menacing, and all the more enticing. Large with tall, thick white pillars holding up each balcony of every floor. The exterior was a muted grey, making the shadows bounce off of it in the nighttime. The ceiling’s beneath the balconies were painted a pale teal blue, the light pouring out the windows illuminating the color giving the house a glow that pulled people through the front door.

Like moths to a flame.

The balconies wrapped around the entire house on the first, second and third floors. Every room had one, each boy blessed with the freedom of an escape if their president ever decided they were to be confined to their bedrooms for the time being while their favorite pastime was off limits.

Standing under the street lights before yours, you swallowed a sigh. The faint pulse of music and people’s chatter greeted you like an old friend. One you haven’t seen in three days. The drama. Glancing to your left, Tori wore a grin tapping away at her phone.

“Is this crazy?” you asked, throwing a hand toward the house. Pursing her freshly glossed lips, she looked at you without a change of face and she nodded.

“Oh, absolutely,” she said. “Especially becau-”

“Okay, I’m good, I’m good.”

The voice behind you, coming closer to you, boiled your blood ever so slightly.

Tori, ecstatic, shoved her phone in the pocket of her bell bottom jeans and clapped her hands together. “Thank god, I’m so excited for you.”

Turning on the balls of your feet, you forced a smile. “You’ll be fine, Mina.”

The sophomore, in a denim mini skirt and a pink long sleeved crop sweater, returned your smile. Hers was real. “He texted me,” she said in a rush, seemingly bouncing on her feet. “He apologized. For what I was talking about the other night.” Tori, lost, looked between you both.

“Apologized?” She scrunched her brows together. “What happened?”

Mina turned her chin, her hair swinging just below the gorgeous curve. “Nothing crazy,” she assured your roommate. “He’s just been distant, that's all. I mean, I understand. Aurora told me the other night that it could be the stress of coming back to school, preparing for the year… Normal stuff like that.” Mina shot you the smile. “It’s what he said,” she nodded, “That he just has a lot on his mind.”

Tori put a hand on Mina’s back, her eyes pointing to the ground for all of a second. “Let’s go find him,” she plastered her grin back on her face, looking to you for support. “Meen’s at an ATZ party!”

Laughing along with them you took Mina’s hand and Tori took the other. It gutted you that neither Ryujin or Yuna were tagging along, both grumbling about not wanting to get caught, and it’s too soon, you’ll get found out, give it time to settle first…

A part of you agreed. It was too soon. Knowing all the boys definitely knew about the ‘rule’ now too, tonight was guaranteed to be insufferable. Pair that with the fact that you’ll have to be around Yunho and Mina, and you’ll have to put up with Wooyoung, all of the above wanted to force you back into the safety of your bedroom where you could rot in your sweatpants and lock the door and never have another social interaction again. But, alas, here you were in a tight dark blue dress that Tori suggested you wear so you match her strapless tube top, being forced into many, many social interactions that may or may not possibly worsen your situation.

At the moment it was controlled.

You and Yunho were on the same page. You wouldn’t talk about it with anyone, you would move on. Your friendship would go back to the way that it was before anyone got drunk and handsy, and life would be good. Time would pass and things would go back to normal. Time will pass, and one day you won’t have butterflies in your belly while you walk up the steps to his front door with his consort in hand.

Mina and Tori babbled together, words you couldn’t process, not as the heavy white door swung open. Noise flooded the night air, twisting your gut with both adrenaline and anticipation. Mina’s hand tightened around yours, triggering you to look at her. Wide eyed, she wore a smile, taking in the stretch of a man who opened the front door.

Tan cargo pants with a skin tight black cut off tank tucked into them, Mingi grinned something silly, his light hair already hanging in front of his eyes, messy just the slightest. Two metal studs lived in his ears, matching the ones in Tori’s third hole on her lobes. He squinted in the night, the light inside not much brighter than the porch.

“Where’s your glasses?” Tori half scolded with a giggle, pulling her hand from Minas to topple forward onto her man. Her arms swung around his neck, his catching her around her waist. He squeezed her, lifting her off the floor while he pressed a thousand kisses to her cheek. “Makeup! I have makeup!” Tori squirmed, attempting to escape his grip.

Mingi put her feet on the floor and maneuvered her underneath one arm, extending his other into the house, an invitation for you and Mina, who’s hand you realized you were still holding. Tori dabbed at her cheek, muttering things to Mingi only he could hear.

“Ladies,” he said, the smile never leaving his cheeks. “Pleasure to see you, come on inside.” Mina surprisingly took the lead, dragging you behind her up the step into the sticky air of ATZ. “Oh, stop,” Mingi bickered with Tori, his focus turning down to her. “So what if I did mess it up? You tryna impress someone else here?!”

A long hallway greeted you, extending many, many feet down to the end of the first floor. It was littered with people either stumbling into the next room hand in hand, or wandering toward the kitchen that resided in the back of the house behind the tall staircase pushed up against the wall to the left. The lights hanging from the spacious ceilings were all original, deep orange colored stained glass, and they were off for the night. The dim glow came from the room to the right, through the rounded archway accented with a thick brown hand carved wood.

ATZ hadn’t changed a lick since it was established. The dark walls, the dark hardwood floors, each generation left it alone. It was like stepping into a time capsule. A mesmerizing, charismatic, delightfully musky scented time capsule. It was clean, put together, and so undeniably sexy. As were the nine men who resided in the floors above.

Mesmerizing, charismatic, and so undeniably sexy.

Losing Tori at the door with Mingi you allowed Mina to pull you along, her head turning every which way as she took everything in. Glancing back you deemed her safe and in good hands, the two were already liplocked, Mingi walking Tori backward toward the stairs, both of his hands slipping into the back pockets of her jeans. You’d see her in an hour.

“Damn, Mina, it’s just us,” you said, turning back to the sophomore who yanked you down the hall, dodging bodies as she did. Eyes turned to follow you. Both of you. Suddenly this plan didn’t feel so good.

Her brown bob whipped your way. “Okay,” she breathed, taking notice that Tori disappeared. The wedges she wore on her feet came to a stop, one of your sandals jamming into the back one abruptly. With them on she stood an inch or so taller than you, and in this moment she looked down at you with a spark in her eye. “Is that what happens? Here?”

Holding back the face you wanted to make, you instead tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

Mina glanced up and around at a group of seniors you’ve seen before at these parties brushing past you with a happy greeting. Smiling at them, you shot them a quick wink before returning your attention to the sophomore still holding your hand.

“They went upstairs,” Mina said, lifting her eyes to where Tori escaped.

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “But, they always do. She’ll be back, she’s okay.”

Mina huffed a laugh, meeting your eyes. “I know she’ll be back, I just…” She flitted her head about nervously, blinking a trillion times, emphasizing on something she wasn’t telling you. “You’ve been upstairs before?”

“No,” you pushed from your lips in a composed hurry. “Not in the way Tori goes upstairs, let me say that again. I have been upstairs, but not to fuck.” That was the truth. She cringed at your use of word, it made you laugh. “Oh, Mina.” Her lips pursed. “You don’t have to go upstairs if you don’t want to. I think I know what you’re thinking about.” Yunho. “You can say the words, it’s okay.”

Waiting until the hall cleared for a few seconds, Mina leaned closer to you, so close you could make out all the beauty marks on her smooth skin. “I’ve never… Done it before.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding. Placing your other hand on top of hers that clung onto you, smiled. “That’s okay.”

Chop chop, Tori and Mingi.

In and out.

Hurry it up.

“I mean,” Mina glanced to the floor, collecting her thoughts before her shining eyes came back to yours. “I’ve done the other stuff. You know, I’m not a prude even though I probably come off as one.”

You shook your head, crinkling your lip. “You don’t, you don’t.”

Little bit.

“What happens if he wants to go upstairs?”

Well, that question shouldn’t hurt as much as it just did.

Gulping, you tossed your shoulders up, letting them fall as you shook your head. “That’s up to you to decide, Meens. If you’re ready, and you want to go, you go. If you don’t wanna, you say no.”

“Will he get mad if I say no?” Her whisper hurt you in a different sense this time.

You tapped her hand. “It’s Yunho. He won’t get mad. And, besides, if he did, Hongjoong would have him kicked out in seconds. Their president doesn’t fuck around here. Especially when it comes to that.”

She took in every word that fell from your mouth, nodding along in tiny. Letting it marinate in her brain, she pulled her hand away and smoothed out her sweater that danced above her belly button, a few inches of skin exposed between the soft fabric and the denim of her skirt.

“You’re right,” she said. “Thanks, Aurora.” Responding with a smile, she returned it. “I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve been sort of, up your… Up your ass.” She said the word at a whisper, her smirk growing straight after.

Narrowing your eyes, you pressed a hand to your chest in fake shock. “Mina… Watch your mouth, for fucks sake.” The giggles that erupted immediately eased all of the tension that had built up around the two of you. Tension only you noticed, you hoped. “If you wanna stay with me tonight, that’s totally fine. We just have to be careful of pictures and stuff like that, but I’d love to help you get more acquainted with this place, it’s so fun to-”

“Ror!?” The most beautiful voice traveled halfway down the hall from the kitchen, where you and Mina had stopped. Looking over Mina's shoulder, you had no time to think before feet barrelled down the hardwood, arms wrapped around your waist and you were in the air, thrown over a shoulder. “No fucking way, I GOT HER!” The leather vest wearing, bulky bicep animal who grabbed you whirled around, facing you toward Mina as he took off for the kitchen.

Smiling ear to ear, Mina followed behind him, trying to keep up. Swatting at his back you groaned and flipped your hair backward, praying that the top of your dress hadn’t ridden down. Pressing your lips into a line, you flatlined your brows, letting Mina know this happened every time. She cupped her cheeks and laughed. You caught her eyes traveling down the backside of the leather wearing monster. This really was a whole new world for her.

Tucking those thoughts away, you turned your chin to catch a glimpse of the man who held you. Slicked back, neatly cut black hair lived atop his head. He kept it shorter in the back and along the sides. You caught a glimpse of necklaces around his neck, probably hanging down his chest over the bare skin showing through his vest that was definitely unbuttoned. You could feel it on your thighs. The pants he wore matched the top, the low rise waist hanging right at the base of his hips, accenting the curve of his ass, the leather hugging his muscular thighs just right.

“You slut,” you laughed, lifting a hand to slap him where you knew he liked it. A sweet, shameless sound came out of him, echoing in the end of the hall as his head tossed backward. His hands slid down to your thighs, gripping your bare skin below the hem of your dress. Letting out a yelp at the shift of weight, he simply laughed within his chest. His fingers squeezed the soft skin between your legs, obviously having to adjust every few seconds, he couldn’t get a good hold. It tickled, and as much as you tried to hold back your giggles and squirms, the way his fingers knew how to move was too much. “Down, San!”

More boys and girls moved up and down the hall as he carried you, Mina absorbing every single second of every single moment, though it seemed like she was looking out for what you warned her about. Everyone who ducked out of San’s way looked up at you, either in shock or with a laugh. Every face that came and went you had seen before, so it seemed thus far you were in the clear. It was normal, this was normal.

ITZ girls at an ATZ party? Normal.

San dressed in some ridiculous get up with eyes glued to his dick? Normal.

He turned into the kitchen full of a small group of people, the hanging chandelier in here also dimmed like the living room. Sliding his hands up your body, over your ass, to your waist, he lowered you to your feet with an energy so forced your knees gave out, but his hands caught you. Around your back they held you, big and strong, and he hovered above you. A sideways, shit eating grin graced his pink lips. A singular strand of black hair fell over his forehead, the smallest, most attractive accent for his sharp features.

“You’re a dick,” you said softly, smiling up at him. His moves were on purpose, they always were. San was calculated, he was quick. He could pick up your next move before you’ve even thought about it.

Flickering his eyes to your lips, he softened his smile and breathed through a laugh. “Nice to see you too, Ror.”

“You can let me go now,” you said, and he obliged, swiftly pulling you steady on your feet.

Taking a finger below your chin, he drug the digit under your jaw with a smirk, and then his body was his, and yours was yours. “Drinks?” he asked with a brow raise, making sure to look at Mina as well. “Hi, pretty,” he smized with a knee buckling head tilt, and the sophomore blushed. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“She’s off limits, Sannie,” you muttered, fixing your dress. San pointed his gaze to your fingers at the hem of the blue fabric, then to your eyes.

“I know,” he said, his voice flowing like sultry music. “I’ve been debriefed.”

“Debriefed?” Mina asked, taking all of Sans' attention. His dark eyes ate her up, shamelessly fawning up and down her body, ending on her eyes that were all too wide and innocent for the man standing in front of her. San wore his thoughts on his face, you knew exactly what he was thinking about at this very moment. Thankfully, Mina did not.

“You’re Yunho’s girl,” San tipped his chin back, looking down at her. With the smallest gasp, Mina snapped her jaw and whipped her chin to shoot you the look of surprise. You forced a smile onto your lips.

So, that was the story in this house, too.

“I am?” Mina nearly squeaked.

San’s smize turned up to a hundred, his heat quite literally filling the air. A tiger ready to pounce.

“San,” you stole his focus and actively watched the lust somewhat leave his eyes. “Those drinks would be nice.” Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he nodded, caught one last look at Mina then started behind you, pausing at your side for a moment more.

Looking up into his siren eyes, the deepest, clearest chocolate brown, you kept the San mental shield up as he said, voice low, tickling your skin, “You’re not off limits, Ror.”

“San,” you whispered, giving him the most polite look you could conjure up. “We’ve talked about this.”

The smallest pout found his gorgeous, kissable lips. Taking a hand to your bare shoulder he watched his own finger as he drew circles over your skin. “You’ll tell me when,” he whispered. Only his eyes lifted to look at you through his lashes. “Right?”

“Right,” you nodded once. “You have a house full of people, Sannie.” Putting a finger on his chest, you drug it toward the waist of his leather pants, entirely too low, and tugged on the fabric when your finger hooked in it. San watched it, his brows furrowing above his eyes with the subtlest inhale through his lips. “You look all cute, does no one wanna play with you?”

“Someone already has,” he whispered, looking to you with just his eyes.

“Mm!” you hummed happily, giving him a smile, one he returned. “See, you don’t need me.” His jaw tightened. Taking your finger out of his pants, you placed your hand over his cheek and drug your thumb over his cheekbone. “Drinks, Sannie. Please?” Widening your eyes ever so slightly, his shaky inhale and twist of his lips made you smile, too.

He didn’t need to say anything, he spoke with his eyes. Taking off into the depths of the kitchen, around people standing around, leaning on counters talking, he’d be back. He’d find his way back. He always did. Spinning in a small circle, watching him go, when you faced Mina, almost forgetting she was in the same room, you find that she found a way to keep herself occupied.

“Oh, Aurora!” She wore a smile, an excited smile. “Look who I found.”

Yunho stood in the archway beside her focused on San and where he wandered off to. As if on defense, he snapped out of it when Mina called your name, smiling down at her. It took him a couple beats to look your way, but when he did it was as if his gaze pierced you through the heart.

He wore a t-shirt, a black one with that damn chain hanging beneath the collar. Everything else was the same as you saw him earlier in the day. Jeans, sneakers, hair pushed forward over his glasses. He was the same. He was just Yunho.

It was just Yunho!

“Hey, Rory,” he said. Mina couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Poor girl was smitten.

“Hey, Yo,” you said, jaw clenching as he gave his smile back to Mina.

“Was not expecting this one to be here when Mingi told me you guys were coming,” he said, putting a hand on the wood over Mina’s shoulder.

Fluttering her lashes she shrugged. “You know, it’s kind of your fault we’re here.”

Yunho frowned, his eyebrows squishing together, and it was apparently funny because Mina giggled like crazy. “My fault? You’re the one here breaking the rules, aren’t you? I didn’t tell you to sneak out of the house.”

Mina playfully rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t tell me to, but Tori said you guys know how to climb their side of the house, so we had a way down and out!”

“Oh, they told you about that, did they?” Yunho, maintaining this… act, or whatever he was doing, gave you a disappointing look. “Thanks, Rory. Now I’ll be in trouble.”

“Rory,” Mina repeated, eyeing Yunho’s lips as he said it. “That’s such a cute nickname.” She shot a smile toward you for only a second, not wanting to miss a moment of her man.

Yunho, with a sheepish shrug and downturn of his lips, said, “It’s nothin’.”

It’s what he’s called you since you met him.

Within a game of two truths and a lie at the start of the semester he admitted he secretly loved that old show Gilmore Girls. And thus, the Rory thing began. He’s the only one to ever call you Rory to this day.

“It makes me think of this show my mom liked to watch,” Mina said, and Yunho’s act faltered.

“Gilmore Girls?” They both questioned at the same time, falling into laughter together at their own shock of saying the same thing. You could’ve told them that, having the same thought at the same time as them, you could’ve joined in on the laughter as well. But, it didn’t look fun.

With a breath, you muttered, “Cute,” and turned to search for San.

You needed a drink.

Or several.

Weaving through the bodies lounging about the space dripping in shiney dark wood, you approached the circular table in the back corner where several boys sat with cans in their hands. You recognized them all, but only a few were eligible to greet you.

“Aurora!” Yeosang and his wavy chestnut hair raised the beer he held. “You’re here?!” Another head perked up at his shout, long, almost shoulder length black hair and a sharp, slender nose.

“I”m here,” you smiled, holding a hand in the air. A cold can was placed inside of it, your fingers wrapping around it quickly. Yanking it down, you spun and gave San a sweet smile, leaning in to give his cheek a peck. “Thank you, San,” you said, cracking the drink of fruity bubbles open yourself.

“You’re welcome,” he said, looking down at it. “Can I?”

Putting the skinny can in his hand, you nodded. “‘Course.”

San, keeping his eyes on yours, poked his tongue slightly from his lips and pressed your drink to it, taking the smallest sip before returning it to you. “Your turn.” Copying him, tongue out, lips pressed to the can, you sipped it while you watched him and gave him a wink. A quiet groan escaped him as he smiled. Then, he was gone as fast as he found you.

“Cute.” There was a boy around every corner it seemed. Turning yourself toward the table of men, long, almost shoulder length black hair smirked up at you where he sat. Taking to his side, you tousled his hair and snickered.

“You just gotta know how to appease him,” you said. Seonghwa, leaning over the back of the wooden chair that matched the rest of the kitchen, laughed and shook his head.

“You’ve got a soft spot for San,” he narrowed his eyes, teasing you.

Sipping your drink, you weighed the options with a few twists of your hips. “And if I do?” You smacked your lips, licking the sweetness off of them. Seonghwa watched, then licked his own.

He beckoned you closer with a wag of his finger. “Then I’d say you’re not the only one,” he said loud enough for you to hear, then you laughed with him. Pushing his chair out from the table a bit, tucking his long legs under the chair, he tapped his lap without taking his eyes off of you. “Stay a while.”

Raising your eyebrows, eyeing the group of men who paid no attention to what was happening, you gave him a look. “Vice President Seonghwa, I know you are not telling me to sit on your lap.”

He laughed, dark and sweet. “I am,” he tapped his lap again and pushed his hair out of his face with his other hand, exposing his sculpted features to the dim kitchen light, the shadows contouring around his face like magic. “I miss you. Where’ve you been?”

“Around,” you said, following his request by sliding onto his lap over his knee. On the edge at first, nervous to sit back too far, Seonghwa took matters into his own hands and hooked an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. Your knees basically straddled his one, his hand finding solace on your bare thigh, just below the hem of your dress.

“Around?” he parroted in question, moving the chair closer to the table, your bottom halves lost beneath it. “You were here Monday, right?”

Twisting on his lap, your knees moving between both of his legs, you looked at him and his breathtaking beauty and pouted. “I was,” you sighed. “And then we got in trouble… Like little kids.” Taking a sip of your drink while he laughed, you expressed your regret with a roll of your eyes.

“Mingi kinda let it slip to us,” he said, his speaking voice alway so soft and full of purpose. “Tori told him what happened.”

“Of course she did,” you grumbled.

Seonghwa reached for a short glass he had on the table, half full of a cinnamon smelling liquor. “Uh oh,” he sang, sipping the drink that sparked your fancy. “What goes on?”

“What is that?” Taking his glass from him, he let you, you took a whiff and cringed. It was awful up close, much better from far away.

Like Wooyoung!

Seonghwa couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “Fireball,” he said, and you shot him a look of disgust. “And rum, some peach and cranberry juice, hey, don’t judge until you try it.”

“How do you get past that… smell,” you said, faking a gag over your shoulder.

Leaning toward you a bit, he placed an elbow on the table. “Some of us like that smell, Aurora.” The smile he wore had swapped for one more stern. “Don’t be a bitch, take a sip and find out for yourself.” He even made cuss words sound pretty, though somehow the kick was more intense.

You listened to him, straightening up where you were perched on his thigh and took the glass to your lips, letting some of the liquid hit your tongue. Getting it down fast, swallowing within milliseconds, the chuckle that came out of him was borderline condescending. Fixing your face, keeping it neutral though tears stung your eyes, you gave him the glass and bobbed your head.

“Don’t like it?” he asked, his gaze dancing all around your face. Looking him in the eyes, gauging how to answer, you opted for a head shake and that chuckle left him again. “That’s okay,” he assured you, his hand on your thigh giving you a squeeze. “You tried it, I’m proud of you.” “Thanks,” you whispered, fixated on his eyes.

“Now,” he started, putting the glass on the table. Facing you like he was, he balanced an elbow on the table and gave you his full attention. “Tell me what happened with Tori, baby.”

And you did, for about an hour.

Starting with the fact that Tori spilled everything to Mingi all of the time, you let that trickle into the ban that was set into place, which then turned into you telling him how you snuck out of your bedroom to end up here on his lap. Within each story a drink was opened by Seonghwa and finished by you. He used whichever boy was closest to a fridge to bring one over to him, all he had to do was lift a finger in the air and he had one in his hand.

Somewhere along the way your schedule for the year was brought up, you shared you and your sisters anxieties over recruitment this year, and somehow it all boiled back down to Wooyoung and the shit you went through last semester.

You were on drink four, and whatever kept getting poured in Seonghwa’s cup was more and more appetizing as the night went on.

“I’ll have it,” you said, nibbling your bottom lip as a boy in a blue sweater slid it across the table for Seonghwa to grab. He was able to snatch it before you, pulling it away with a grin. “Lemme have it,” you whispered, dipping your chin down.

His other hand had been sliding up and down the inside of your thigh for the last fifteen minutes… You think.

“You didn’t like it, Aurora,” he said, keeping his voice down. Sipping from the glass, eyes on you, he perked a brow.

“No, it was shit,” you were only speaking truths at the moment, and he found it funny. “Let me try again, I promise you I’ll like it better this time, Hwa.”

“Will you?” he asked, and when you nodded, sure of yourself, he handed over the drink and waited for you to hate it all over again.

Taking a sniff like you did earlier, you exhaled in dramatized pleasure, fluttering your eyes shut, and Seonghwa shook his head, his hair caressing his cheekbones. “Absolutely…” you paused to take a sip that was more like a gulp. Seonghwa quickly put his hand on the bottom and eased it down from your lips. “Delicious,” you said, wiggling your brow.

The glass made it safely on the table and Seonghwa drug his tongue over his teeth, looking at you in disbelief. “You got me,” he shrugged. He leaned into you, the space between you growing smaller. “Proved me wrong.”

His lips, soft and full, made your legs close, trapping his hand between them. Unknowingly checking him out, drunk enough to not know what your subconscious was consciously doing in the driver's seat, you took a hand to his jaw and danced your fingers along the underside. Like San had done to you earlier.

Seonghwa, surprised, but letting you do your thing, wore a soft smile when he asked, “You’re alright though, right?”

His features worked in perfect harmony. The slope of his nose down to his lips, and his stunning smile. The depth of his eyes balanced the seemingly innocent wonder he typically wore in expression. A beautifully crafted exterior to match the heart he carried within.

You knew what he meant when he asked you if you were alright. He was there that night, he was close with Yunho, though not as close as Yunho and Mingi, but he was closer than the others. When you became friends with Yunho you met Seonghwa, you’ve known him almost as long as Yunho.

Yunho, damn.

Where did he end up? Mina’s here, they’re probably together, and it’s been too long and neither of them have tried to find you. Maybe he did take her upstairs. She’d probably let him take her upstairs. It shouldn’t matter to you whether or not they went upstairs, but for some reason it hurts. For christ sake, you only started to hook up with Yunho to get over the Wooyoung thing, you never intended for it to become this. You didn’t expect to have feelings for him, your longest friend here at Nasara.

Granted, the Wooyung thing still hurts like a bitch. He didn’t care. He whispered sweet nothings, promises of tomorrow, kissed your lips like you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and then took Yeji to bed.

Couple the both together, and it sucked.

No one knew you and Yunho had done anything, so it wasn’t even like you could say anything to anybody about it. You couldn’t even talk about it, vent about it, get the frustration out. It all had to stay inside, you were forced to keep it inside. Yunho seemed fine with continuing his pursuit of Mina, it’d been over an hour, or more, and no one had come looking for you. Even Tori. Where was she? Helping Mina with Yunho? Still fucking her boyfriend? She was probably helping Mina with Yunho, getting the two of them together, making sure they live happily ever after!

“What are you thinking about?” Seonghwa whispered, bringing you back into the moment. Your thumb was over his bottom lip, the plush skin incredibly soft to the touch. There were centimeters between you, and your thighs were squeezing his hand tight.

Sucking in a breath, you whispered, “Too much.”

“Tell me.” Speaking in whispers, the both of you, his eyebrows lowered, worried. “Did something else happen?” All you could do was nod, but then as your bottom lip crinkled Seonghwa pushed the chair away from the table of boys talking too loud to notice you guys were leaving.

He got you on your feet and wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. Walking side by side out of the kitchen, you melted into his touch, his powerful, safe hold, and scanned each room for a sign of anyone you were dying to see.

Yunho, Tori, Mina.

Wooyoung.

Out in the hall, Seonghwa, several inches taller than you, kept you out of direct view and whisked you toward the end by the front door, making a sharp turn up the staircase. He made sure you made it up every step, taking his time beside you as you clung to him for balance.

A babble of, “I didn’t drink so much,” and, “How are you not as drunk as me?” came out of you and he simply smiled and assured you with, “I’m much bigger than you,” and, “Trust me, I’m drunk.”

You made it into his bedroom on the second floor, the room between Yeosang and Yunho’s, directly in the center of the hall straight off the staircase. Several others lined the hall on the wrap around of the stairs before they went up again to the third floor. Luckily it was his own, ATZ didn’t have to share like ITZ.

Once inside, Seonghwa shut the door quietly and took a deep breath, shifting his attention to you, full of concern. Unsure of what to say, he let you wander his room for a minute before he asked, “Are you okay?”

His room was utterly him. Blue grey walls with photos and a few posters hanging up strategically, the floor was neat and clean, all of his drawers shut properly and everything on top of them placed with precision. There was a softness to it all, but then the hints came out, the sort of unexpected spice he carried within his eyes. It came out in the dark decor hiding in plain sight, and the way the belts hanging on his wall weren’t placed there for daily wearing accessibility. A bottle of whiskey lived on his nightstand, and the books beside it definitely weren’t for a class.

Turning to look at him, his voice once more pulling you back, you shook your head and took your time walking up to where he still stood at the door. “No,” you whispered, your voice filling the air that was much quieter than downstairs. Seonghwa, brows flipped over, nodded slightly, waiting for you to say more. “Everything is just… a mess.”

“Right,” he whispered, having no possible clue as to what you were talking about. Reaching out your hands you grabbed onto the black button up he was wearing, the top three buttons undone, and closed the space between you, pushing him back against his door. His eyes clouded over with that unexpected spice.

Taking a hand behind him, he pressed the lock on his door, and when it clicked into place you whispered, “Make me forget.”

Hands taking to your neck, he tipped your head back and pressed his lips to yours, heavy and hungry. Without a second wasted a hand was in your hair, the other sliding down your body to grab onto the fabric of your dress, hiking it above your waist. Wrapping both arms around his neck, you succumbed to his touch, to his hold, letting him do as he pleased. Working your lips against his, every following kiss longer, wetter, noisier, you tangled your fingers in his hair. His long, soft hair that brushed his shoulders and now tickled your cheeks.

Seonghwa took both hands to your waist and lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. Within the kisses he took you to his bed, laying you sideways over the mattress, the dark blankets beneath about to be rumpled into a heap on the floor. Rolling his body into yours, a gasp shot through you as he pushed his hips where you needed him most.

“Oh my god, Seonghwa,” you breathed, knitting your fingers in his locks. The laugh that came out of him made you buck your hips up against him, longing to feel that definitely larger than average bulge in his pants.

Listening to you, following how your body responded, he rolled his hips and reveled in the sound you made for him, drinking it up through parted lips and shared air, then he kissed you again, slipping his tongue inside. Taking his time, kissing you with a calculated conscience, he took his hands down your body, sure to caress every curve. He hooked his thumbs in the little lacey thong you slipped on beneath your dress for no reason in particular, and pulled it off of you, tossing it somewhere on his floor.

Moaning something nasty into his mouth as he drug one of his fingers over your soaked center, he smirked on your lips as your legs spread even further for him.

“Is nobody fucking you, Aurora?” Seonghwa looked down at you and wrapped his other hand around your jaw, his thumb taking to your bottom lip, pulling it open. Eyes wide, you stared up at him, a completely different Seonghwa than the one you were sitting with ten minutes ago. Nodding as best as you could in his grip, he scoffed. “Yes?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

He dipped his thumb into your mouth and pressed it to your tongue while he tutted his own. “They’re not doing a very good job, are they?”

He did a good job.

He did a very good job, Yunho did.

Seonghwa sensed the thoughts. Pulling his thumb from your mouth he pressed both his thumb and fingers to your cheeks, studying how you were locked the fuck in.

“Who is it?” he asked. You gulped and shook your head as best as you could, he was strong. “That means I know who it is,” he flashed you a smile you’ve never seen before, something so devilish it forced a whine from your throat. “You don’t want me to know, do you?”

“No,” you said, muffled with how he held onto your jaw.

Poking his cheek with his tongue, he flashed that smile and nodded. “Why not?” You answered with a shake of your head. “Oh, come on, baby, you can tell me.”

“Can’t,” you whispered, and his brows lowered the slightest.

“You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“No!” You would’ve leapt up if he wasn’t holding you down.

Seonghwa watched you, his face softening, and then he nodded. “Okay,” he spoke above a whisper. Eyes dancing down your face to your lips, he whispered, “Open,” and you listened. He groaned within his chest. “Such a good girl,” he half whined. “No way Yunho taught you to be this good of a listener.”

Your heart sank.

Your stomach flipped.

Your blood ran ice fucking cold.

Eyes shooting open wide, Seonghwa mimicked your shock until it turned into a laugh. “You’re kidding me?” He took the hand between your bodies and messed with the buttons on his pants. “I had the smallest chance, and you’re telling me I guessed it right on the first try?”

Wiping the feelings from your face, you whispered, “Shut up. I’m drunk, I don’t know what you were talking about.”

“I’m drunk, too, baby,” Seonghwa cooed, his lips taking to your neck, messy kisses sliding up and down your skin, pulling you back under his spell. His thumb brushed over the spot you were dying for him to touch, a few expert, well practiced twists of the joint enough to have you a babbling mess under him.

“Hwa, please,” you gasped, and he finally kicked his pants off, wearing that devilish grin that was going to make you burst before he was even inside of you. With a hand between you, he pushed his length through your arousal, teasing you.

“Ror,” he said softly, dipping his head down to kiss your cheek. “Are you sure?”

Grabbing his face, squishing his own cheeks together like he had yours, his hair framing his face and brushing your own, you nodded and whispered, “Make me… forget.”

It didn’t take much else, he pushed himself inside of you, his forehead pressing to yours, keeping himself where he could see you, where he could watch you lose yourself in him. The sound that came from you matched the face he made when he gave you all of him, his brows synching in the center, his teeth clenched, but his lips parted.

With every slow push of his hips and every beautiful sound that came from either of you, he felt you, could hear you adjust, and once your body welcomed him and your nails dug crescents into his back and your eyes clouded over in pleasure, he knew he could take you where he wanted.

He would make you forget.

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

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natspookie · 1 year ago

Text

book worm

warnings, …stalker nat? LOL

an, kinda bad but i had the idea??? also, i’m working with the reqs soon!!!

it was rare natasha had time to go out for leisure, more so, to shop. but here she was, natasha romanoff shopping at thrift shops and markets.

this one road in new york was slammed with sellers and all sorts of things to buy.

natasha had bought a few vests she thought yelena would like, also some for her to match. she’d bought little trinkets to fill her room up. she had been dragging her shopping bags for about two hours when she reached the end of the market, a book stall.

hundreds of books were stacker on top of each other but the one of top caught natasha’s eye.

pride and prejudice

in the red room, sure natasha had read books. well.. books how to seduce men, and basic knowledge. but never for her own enjoyment.

she picked the book up, flipped through its pages seeing annotations here and there but she didn’t mind, handing the shop owner a couple of dollars before she made her journey back to the compound.

it was a quiet weekend at the avengers compound, not much missions. “hey nat! ohhh, what did you get?” wanda immediately eyed the eco bags on natasha’s wrist.

“just saw like a flea market or some thrifting- i don’t know honestly.” “the one near that shawarma shop we go to?” “precisely. i also got you this lamp, you said you broke yours”

natasha handed wanda a clear pink tinted lamp with crystals hanging from the top. “oh nat i love it! thank you!” wanda jumped across the couch and hugged natasha “no problem, witchy” natasha laughed, making her way to her room.

she took a quick shower before unloading all the things she got on her carpet. she put all of yelena’s things in one bag and started to put her things in her laundry bin.

when everything was sorted, she picked up the book and sat on her bed.

it was a book with good condition considering she paid 2 dollars for it. she got her reading glasses out and started to flip through the pages, immediately seeing clean and beautiful cursive black writing.

on the cover page it says, “01/01/2023 my love, i have my whole heart to give to you and it starts by the pages of this book. with little annotations, i hope you love this book as i do you.

all the love, y/n”

love was never in the cards for natasha but boy, would it not be nice to receive this.

as natasha ventured through the pages of this book, she found a certain comfort in the cursive writing she knew she was not meant to read.

little comments like “i bet she’s as beautiful as you” “you remind me of this line” “i want us to experience this” were enough to get her hooked till dinner time.

“nat, dinner” wanda knocks on the door before rushing to the kitchen. natasha had made it more than halfway through the book.

she reached the confession in the rain and one writing in red caught her eye. “no love is ever the same. but know my love for you is bursting with all kinds to give” natasha had fallen in love with the words from a person she doesn’t even know.

she made her way to dinner, nose nuzzled in the book. “nat, you read classic romance?” yelena points out “mhm” natasha sets the book down, remembering her page.

“i got you vests and left them in your closet” natasha stabs a french fry before eating it as natasha does a little ‘yes’ air fist.

natasha didn’t stick around for dinner conversation. instead, she grabbed a milk tea in the refrigerator and retreated to her room to read.

it was 1 in the morning when natasha finished, reaching the last blank page. the words took her by surprise.

“09/01/23

it’s been 9 months without you, you didn’t read this book. i’ll be giving this to the book shop down the block and you will never read the words i longed for you to hear. i hope you’re happy with your new life, truly.

to whoever is reading this,

i wish you a love as strong as darcy and elizabeth. you’ll get there;)

all the love,

y/n”

natasha shut the book with a deep breath. along the pages, she had been looking forward to that annotation in the end. natasha took it as a sign to sleep with all the excessive thinking.

yet all the black cursive words swirled around in her head that night, painting numerous people to who could be the face of these carefully said words.

the next morning natasha went on a personal mission to find you. why? she doesn’t know.

she realized an hour in that it was pointless looking for a y/n if she doesn’t even know what you look like. hence, her going back go the market.

she asked the seller when the book came in and if he knew who.

“oh yes, around last week monday a young woman with (y/h/c) donated a whole stack of books! only that one had annotations though” natasha nodded and thanked the man before going back to the compound after getting shawarma.

natasha accessed the city cctv footage from last week monday and saw you struggle with a pile of books.

you turned before turning back to the person and walking the other way. nataha rewinded the footage and paused it when you turned, she knew what you looked like now!

natasha ran face scanners and finds you — y/n y/l/n.

fresh graduate and working at a little cafe not too far from the market.

natasha didn’t really have a plan so when she stepped foot in the cafe. but when she saw you, she immediately lost track of her words.

“hey, what can i get you?” you smiled at natasha “um- a drink” natasha said as you laughed “what kind of drink?” “coffee” “black coffee?” natasha nodded

“alright, can i have a name?” you grabbed the cup and a marker “natasha” “thanks, that’ll be 3 dollars” natasha handed you the money. “i got that book” you tilted your head at her “pride and prejudice.. the one by the market” you sighed

“oh. yeah… sorry for the annotations” you laughed “no! i actually loved them. you have a great way of words” “thank you.. did you stalk me here to say that or something” you joked, putting the drink in front of her. “sort of” natasha shrugged and you paused

“that was a joke but… thanks?” “i mean this in the nicest and less creepy way but i really was curious by you. as i said, i was kind of enthralled by your words.” “are you saying you want to take me out on a date, natasha?”

“hoping to do so” natasha leans on her heels. “7 o’clock.. don’t be late or be a stalker” you chuckled, walking back to the counter “you bet”

#natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #black widow fic #natasha x y/n

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hihigherdi · 2 months ago

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Well it’s an atmospheric river here which for me means two things, I didn’t walk as much as I have been and I didn’t have to water my plants today. Both in the win column.

I had a cardiologist appointment today before radiation. It was fine, there’s a couple of problematic things but they are temporary and will resolve themselves. My weight is still good and he’s happy with the exercise, surprised I’m doing the hills during radiation but said it’s important for my heart to get as strong as possible, so he’s a fan.

My favorite part of today was this nurse - we were chatting and family came up, she is Samoan. I have very dear friends in Seattle who are Samoan and shared how much they made me feel like a part of their family when I didn’t really have one, and how special of a culture it is. She is a little obsessed with Jason Momoa and showed me her Jason Momoa coloring book. We laughed so hard. Amazing.

I walked to radiation from there but took a longer route up Fillmore street which is a famous shopping section in San Francisco I’ve never been to before. It was pretty incredible, I found the coolest thrift shop and some artisan shops that sell sweaters for five hundred dollars each 😂 but they are stunning and I have a feeling people in that neighborhood don’t really look at price tags much.

The rain got bad so I ducked into a Starbucks and ordered a caramel apple cider. I don’t do a lot of coffee purchases these days but I almost laughed out loud when the woman behind the counter said “oh wow, ok, no one ever orders that.” 😂

Today was another difficult day getting my body in the right position, it took awhile. They are learning this new machine. My BPDish tendencies to trust no one scream internally during the process but they aren’t going to shoot bolts of radiation into my body unless they’ve gotten it right. Given I see them everyday now, I always start the session with the most obnoxious phrase I can think of- “there is no ‘I’ in team, everybody, we can do this” and then I wondered out loud at the scientific training it takes to roll my body around using a towel to get me into the right position. “Was it a class? Was there an instructor?” and we all giggle so hard until I realize I’m distracting them. I spend a lot of time looking at these flowers on the ceiling.

Eight more to go, two this week, four next week, two the week after. It hurts now but I can deal. Then it’s over, at least the big stuff.

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abeautylives · 2 years ago

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Imperfect Moments - Chapter Fourteen - The Final Chapter

a/n: Here it is, the end. I am already so sad that this story is over. Thank you for your patience, and thank you for reading 💕

Series Masterlist

pairing: Jakexfemale!reader

word count: 9.2k this chapter

final summary: It's really just been a series of imperfect moments that led to this.

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, mentions of sex and sexual situations, language, mention of drinking, mushy fluff, graphic sexual content, unprotected penetrative sex, little bit of cum play, oral sex (m. and f. receiving, lots of it), biting as always, pneumonia sorry

“I really do love it, darling. It’s perfect.”

Josh is doodling on one of the pages of a leather bound journal, adding notation that you can’t read from your seat across the aisle. You wish you could say you’d come across it at some quirky boutique, but you’d known what you wanted and ended up ordering his Christmas present online. It was hand-crafted and you’d had it personalized with his initials stamped into the Napa.

To your left in the window seat, Jake is flipping through the pages of a worn paperback. His gift had been significantly less expensive than Josh’s, and you’d serendipitously come across it at a thrift store. You’d watched a glimmer of recognition pass over his features as he’d torn into the wrapping paper and revealed the title.

Treasure of the Atocha: A Four Hundred Million Dollar Archaeological Adventure

Insecurity had set in as he lifted it to show his family, prompting you to mumble an explanation.

“You know, that one necklace. The, um, silver one you wear sometimes? It’s an Atocha coin- you know that already. The book, it’s about the search for the treasure. From the shipwreck. I saw it and thought of you…”

You’d trailed off as he’d stared at you, your cheeks and chest warm with self-consciousness but it wouldn’t last long. Before you could say anything else, he’d reached out and pulled you in with a hand wrapped around the back of your neck, kissed you so hard you could barely breathe. Unconcerned about his parents and siblings in the room and reluctant to let the moment end, he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Thank you.”

Remembering that morning now, you lean back in your seat and smile to yourself. It really had been pretty perfect, but you’re happy to be headed home.

The new year came and went, celebrated with a relatively tame get-together at the twins’ house, that still managed to end with you and Danny carrying Josh to bed before fighting a bottle of tequila and a Roman candle out of Jake’s hands. Sam remained blissfully unaware and unhelpful, passed out on the living room floor by the time you had Jake leaning heavily into your side as you guided him up the stairs.

Life was busy in the following weeks, but mostly for the guys. With a huge tour looming and new music already being written, you spent a lot less time with them than you’d grown used to, and your time together seemed to move too quickly. Jake never forgot his promise though.

I’m all in.

Jake K: We’re gonna be here late, I can tell

Me: ☹️☹️☹️

Me: It’s ok, I figured you would be

Jake K: I’m sorry love. Can I still come over after?

Me: I HAVE to get some sleep, work in the morning

Jake K: You can go to bed, I’ll be quiet. I just wanna sleep next to you

You’d given him a key. It had worked out in his favor so far, and it was almost worth going to bed alone to wake up next to him in the morning.

“Mm, just call out… fuck, keep doing that.”

He’s got one knotted handful of your hair and the other one is white-knuckling your sheets. You can’t reply with words, your mouth otherwise occupied with his dick throbbing against your tongue that’s dragging up the length of it from the base.

“We can stay in bed today, don’t go to work.” You watch through your eyelashes as he swallows, his head thrown back and sunk into your pillow, throat exposed to you. When you pull off of him with a final flick of your tongue to the head, he groans and cracks an eye open.

“Why are you stopping, pleasepleaseplease don’t stop.”

“Jake…” Your lips pressed to the soft skin of his stomach. “You have to work today too.” Another wet kiss, just above his navel. “But…” Crawling further up his body, another kiss, right over his heart before you’re nose to nose.

“…You sound so pretty when you beg.”

A growl rumbles past his lips before they’re on yours, hard and fast and then he’s got you flipped onto your back. You’ve hardly caught your breath before you feel the tip of his cock pressed against you, still slick from your mouth and slipping through your own wetness. He practically moans his next words into your ear, sliding inside you slowly.

“Please call out today, sweetheart. Stay with me.”

He’s laying it on thick, meekness and desperation in his tone, his bottom lip poked out in a pout when he pulls back to look into your eyes. For good measure, he adds a soft I miss you and his best puppy dog eyes.

“Pffft!” The laughter bursts forth without restraint and he joins you in it, a quiet chuckle and sly tilt to his lips even as he props himself over you and starts to roll his hips. Your giggles catch in your throat on a sigh.

“Ohh… you know I can’t. Makes me feel guilty.” Even as you’re rejecting the idea, your hands are roaming the warm skin of his back and your legs are circling themselves around his waist.

Determined to get his way, he brings one of his own hands to the outside of your thigh and squeezes, drawing them tighter to his body as his thrusts pick up speed.

“Fuck that job.” He feels your nails sink into his skin. “Quit.” A heel digs into his ass, the sound of his hips colliding with your thighs gets louder. “I’ll just be your sugar daddy.”

“Jake!” His eyes light up, bright and warm as the notes of your laughter float up to him from the mattress.

“You think I’m joking, but you like that idea.” Leaning close again, you can feel his breath across your lips so you pucker them, a silent request. “I felt your pretty cunt squeeze me, you want me to spoil you, love?” He captures the kiss you’re offering and absorbs your hum of confirmation. His hips slow until each stroke draws its own gasp or whimper from you, playing composer and instrumentalist of the music you’re making for him.

Forehead dropped to yours, he lets his gaze fall between your bodies, zeroing in on the skin just below your hip bone. There’s a crease there at the joint, where your legs are spread wide and wrapped around him. He releases his grip on your thigh to move higher and slide his thumb through the soft fold. His cock pulses inside you.

“Fuck babe, I’m gonna cum-“ It’s a warning just a heartbeat before it happens, you can feel the beginnings of your own orgasm fade away as his hips stutter and then still. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, not before-“

You reach up to tuck strands of his hair behind his ear and rest your palm against a rosy cheek. “It’s okay, baby. I need to get ready for work anyway.” He slips out of you and shifts like he’s going to let you out from beneath him, but his arms keep you caged in and he shifts down your body instead, landing on his stomach between your thighs. “Jake, no we don’t have time-“

“Give me two minutes.” You’re not allowed to argue, his mouth already attached to your cunt. A man of his word, he focuses his attention to your clit, sensitive and already swollen. Hands shooting to the back of his head, you hold him there as your muscles constrict and your back arches. You can feel his release begin to leak from you, picturing the pearlescent liquid moving over your pink flesh in your mind.

“Fuuuck, keep going keepgoing!”

A grunt against your skin and then his lips open over you and suck you in, a lewd slurp of your juices… and his. You think he’s going to stop when he realizes what he’s done, but when you lift your head to look at him, his eyes are already on your face. With a knowing lift of his eyebrows, he licks a long, slow stripe through the mess he’s made. It ends with a flick to your clit, and you can see it there, glistening on his tongue.

The moan that rolls out of you is animalistic, feral.

He does it again, dipping inside you for more this time before pulling his face away.

You haven’t taken your eyes off of him, but he makes sure you’re watching.

His lips open, pink and slick and you can just barely see his tongue move behind them before he purses them, and spits it directly onto your clit.

“Fuck Jake!”

You’re plummeting over the edge before he even buries his face back into you, sucking and lapping at you sinfully until you have to push him away. When his head pops up from between your legs, the lower half of his face is a mess, he drags the back of his hand across his grin just before you’re grasping at him and pulling him back up to you.

His kiss tastes like him. And you. The mixture is heady and improper and your tongue is greedy for it as it swirls against his. You stretch out your shoulder from beneath his weight, searching blindly for your phone with one hand as he breaks away.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling out of work.” Your fingers are already moving over the screen, typing up an excuse. “Not quitting, but I’m definitely not going in today.”

His laugh cracks out and bounces off the walls of your tiny bedroom, his head thrown back and the smile on his face stretching wide as he props himself up to lean on an elbow.

“That’s my fucking girl, I love you.”

He’s still shaking with laughter, you’re still typing. “I love you too, baby.”

Your thumb lands on the arrow, message sent before you realize. His body stills beside you. Slowly, you turn your head to face him over your shoulder. He’s already looking at you, eyes wide.

“What did you say?”

He breaks first, in slow motion you watch the corners of his mouth tug upward and curl, smile lines sinking deep as he beams at you. Oh, how long he’s been waiting for this. Scrambling to sit up, his legs fold under him and he pulls you up too. When your eyes are focused on him, he reaches forward and gently picks up both of your hands to hold in his, and he says it again.

“I love you, sweetheart. I’m sorry it took me so long-“

“Don’t. Please don’t apologize. I’m so in love with you…” A relieved giggle bubbles from your throat. “I love you! Oh my god, that feels good. Say it again.”

He does, over and over, between lingering kisses and long moments spent entwined with you, fingers drawn leisurely over the dips and curves that make up his favorite parts of you. With nowhere else to be, it’s a long time before you leave the nest of your blankets.

It’s already early afternoon when you’re both seated at your pub table, sharing love-sick glances over the rims of your coffee cups. You’re still naked aside from Jake’s tan button up hanging loose and open over your frame, Jake had opted to simply pull the sheet from your bed and wrap it around his waist.

“Can I ask you something?”

Jake nods as he swallows a sip and places his mug on the table.

“When did it happen?” You begin to pick nervously at your nails, knowing that whatever he says is probably not going to be what you expect.

“When did what happen, love?”

“Ya know, when did you… know?”

He remembers being in almost this exact position before. Having a drink with you, at this table, considering his next move. Instead of an abbreviated version of the truth, he gives you the entire story as it’s written in his mind.

“Well… by April, not this past April but the one before, I knew that I wanted you.” He’d been a month or so deep into the façade of hating you at that point, and he can see that realization move across your expression. “It was a really small thing at our place, for our birthday. I used to try and avoid you when you were there most of the time, but I watched you that day, fawning over Josh. I could see it in your eyes, that you had feelings for him. You were really very obvious about it.”

You groan and drop your face into your hands, a little ashamed of your naïveté. Jake waits patiently for you to look back up at him, which you do sheepishly.

“I knew that day that he wouldn’t reciprocate those feelings, whatever it was that you wanted from him. He wasn’t gonna give it to you. I knew that if I were him, I would’ve taken the opportunity you were presenting on a silver platter. I would’ve had you in my bed every night, looking at me like that.”

Your head is nodding absently, an almost forlorn look on your face that’s pulling the corners of your lips into a barely there frown. All of that time, wasted. His intention isn’t to make you sad, he keeps talking.

“It sort of just… went on like that. For a while. Me wanting you, you snarling or frowning or rolling your eyes at me anytime I dared to speak. But you came to watch us play, and you smiled up at me on purpose. I could tell it was some kind of power move, so I upped the ante. I’m sorry about that, by the way. What I did backstage.”

You laugh it off. “Don’t be. I think it turned out okay.”

He smiles in response. “It did. Still, it wasn’t… nice of me. It was mean, and intentional, but after I’d gotten my hands on you I knew once wouldn’t be enough. I dreamt about fucking you that night, jerked off thinking about you the next morning.”

He chuckles when your cheeks turn pink.

“The next night, at that party, I suppose I had hoped I could shock some reality into you. That you’d just see that I was better for you. But you started crying and it broke my heart. Right before I kissed you, that was when I knew that sex probably wouldn’t be enough for me, but it was what you were willing to accept.”

Your smile is soft, remembering what had been one of the worst nights of your life as something more hopeful. The way he tells it from his perspective is addicting, it’s rare to pull this many words from him at any given time and his voice is quiet, his tone thoughtful. You reach a hand out over the surface of the table to place it over his.

“I do realize that none of that is an answer to what you asked. I just thought you should know.”

He smiles with that, your favorite one, just for you.

“Keep going…” Your own voice is not much more than a whisper.

“I’m getting there. Ya know, there’s a handful of these like… just almost perfect moments that stand out. Really good moments that I’d somehow fuck up, or almost fuck up. Times that had me thinking about every word before I said it, because I knew I was going to embarrass myself. Because I knew I was undeniably and irrevocably in love with you, only four days after I left here for the first time.”

“Jake!” He just grins at you, pleased with his admission. “That’s not true!”

“It is. I swear on Josh’s life. And he’ll tell you himself, I think he knew way before he ever asked me about it. Way before I’d admit it, even to myself.”

You can feel your jaw hanging slack, mouth ajar in disbelief. “I… don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, please don’t tell me when it happened for you. I’ve embarrassed myself enough, I think.”

Silently, you stand from your chair and slide yourself onto his lap, looping your arms loosely around his neck. His hands keep you secure there, wrapping themselves over each hip as he looks up at you.

Brushing a thumb over it lightly, you ask him, “Did you know I love it when you do this little grin?” Your words cause it to stretch, just a little wider. “You looked just like this when you smiled back at me, on stage, in front of all those people but it was just for me.”

“There is only ever you, for me.”

He’d made love to you again in the shower, unable to wait until the suds had even been rinsed from your body. Slipping against you, your face and tits pressed into the tile with fingers grasping to find purchase on the slick surface, his hands and hips kept you where he wanted you. His teeth worked to coax fresh rosebuds to the surface of your skin, nipping across your shoulder, soothing each one with a kiss and breaths of hushed words.

Mine. My love. I love you.

The sun had eventually disappeared from the sky, replaced by moonlight as you were stretched out over the length of your couch with your head in Jake’s lap. About halfway through The Goonies, which he’d described as “one of the greatest films about pirate treasure of all time”, he called out your name quietly. Your actual name, not love or sweetheart.

You turn your face up to him and find him looking very serious.

“What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing, my life’s pretty perfect at the moment.” He looks around the room and back down to you, confirming that he’s right, it’s perfect. “I was thinking though… wouldn’t it make a lot of sense if you just moved in with me?” When your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull, he adds, “Me and Josh, into our house.”

You shoot up from his lap and twist until you’re cross-legged on the cushion next to him. “What?”

“Hear me out, and I mean this, we’re leaving soon and we’ll be away more than we’re home. For a while. Wouldn’t you rather have our whole house to yourself than be here, alone?”

Ouch.

It’s a harsh truth and it’s coming your way, quickly. You know that.

“You can stop paying rent. You could work less and fly out with us sometimes. You could be around all of our stuff, sleep in Josh’s bed when you miss him more than me.” He’s trying to keep it light-hearted, but you can still feel the sincerity rolling off of him. He’s serious.

It’s your turn to survey the room. You know it’s kind of a shithole apartment, with your entire life packed into its six-hundred or so square feet.

But that’s not true, is it? The best parts of your life live outside of these walls.

“Okay.”

“Okay. Okay?”

“Yes. You’re right, it kinda makes sense. I can’t do it right away, I have to give notice here. What am I gonna do with my furniture? It’s all secondhand, it’s not super important to me but I have to figure out how to get rid of it. Pack and move everything else. Would you have time to help me? Maybe we can ask the other guys- What?”

He’s just been watching you ramble, watching the gears turn in your head and the words spill out as you think of them.

“You’re sure? I was expecting you to have to think about it…”

“I’ve thought about it.”

“Maybe not enough?”

“The last time I thought about something, maybe not enough, I ended up with you.”

Half of his mouth curls up into a smirk. “Fair point.”

“Shouldn’t you… I dunno, talk to Josh about this though?”

He tugs you back to his cushion on the couch and tucks you under his arm until you’re curled into his side, turns his face back to the movie.

“It was his idea.”

You’d started planning and packing the very next evening, notice given to your leasing office and less than two months before the guys leave for Michigan again. Within two weeks, most of your earthly possessions had found new homes in the twins’ house and your furniture, left behind in an otherwise empty apartment, was sitting there waiting to be sold or donated.

It had been strange at first, spending all of your time there, falling asleep and waking up there every day. Most of your time with Jake had been spent in your space, but you figured that this was your space now. It would take some getting used to.

More than once, Jake had stopped you on your way out of the bedroom.

“You don’t have any pants on, sweetheart.”

It was nice though, being with Josh. They were both busier than ever, so much of their time poured into their music, their upcoming performances, but at the end of the day they both came home to you.

You had missed him more than you’d realized.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to Michigan, darling? It’s still snowing up there. We could go ice skating again.”

“I can’t take the time off, Josh. Not yet. Also the entire state is going to be crawling with Greta Van Fleet fans, we’re not going ice skating any time soon.”

“I suppose that’s true. So, when are you planning to fly out to us?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t even told my job that I’m planning on cutting my hours yet. All of this happened so fast.”

“You should’ve just quit. I know you care about your job, in the way that any of us care about responsibility, obligation and money… but you don’t love it. You’d be fantastic at artist management, actually. Look how well you keep the two of us in line, we’d be lost without you!”

He’s joking, you think, but he’s not entirely wrong. You don’t exactly have a passion for what you do, you’ve just been doing it for so long. And quitting without a plan is just not in the cards.

They flew out two days later for a solid three week stretch of shows, dates scheduled back to back for most of it. The twins had FaceTimed you after the first one, still high on adrenaline, Sam’s distinct laughter loud in the background. The next day, a day off, Jake had tucked himself away in his bunk on the bus and called. Your conversation was subdued and unhurried, knowing that you wouldn’t have many opportunities like this in the coming weeks.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I love you so much.”

You don’t hear from them much in the next couple of days, a few texts when they have a moment, updates when they can. Jake calls on their days off, waiting until he knows you’re home from work. You’re not expecting it when Josh texts to tell you that he and Jake both had woken up feeling under the weather, only six days in, two shows canceled and rescheduled. Just like that. Neither of them answer your calls, undoubtedly heartbroken over disappointing their fans. Jake sends you one text that day, knowing his brother had broken the news to you.

Jake K: I hate this. I wish you were here.

You cry yourself to sleep, their pain is your pain.

The abrupt ringing of your phone wakes you up. 5:17am.

“Josh?” You have to clear your throat and try again. “Josh, it’s early, are you okay?”

Even through the fog of sleep you can tell he’s upset. “I’m fine, better, actually. Um, darling… it’s Jake.”

Your stomach twists into a knot instantly, you’re shoving the comforter away and moving to stand.

“We had to take him to the hospital.”

The air leaves your lungs, you couldn’t stand if you tried.

“What?” It hardly passes your lips as more than a squeak.

He goes on to tell you that Jake had woken himself up coughing, unable to catch his breath, in pain. The doctors hadn’t been able to diagnose him yet, but they’re trying.

You’d cut him off there, told him you were coming.

He’d stopped you, told you to wait until they figured out what was wrong.

The following hours passed slowly as you waited for information. Jake, still having difficulty breathing, wasn’t able to call. His texts to you were dismal, sad and infrequent as he waited for a diagnosis that turned out to be pneumonia.

Four days. Four days he’d lain in a hospital bed, struggling to breathe and Josh had refused to fly you out, day after day.

“Darling, we’re bringing him home as soon as they let him out. He seems to think he’s going to be able to play, but it’s not happening.”

He’d come home a little thinner, pale, still coughing and short of breath. It had taken weeks for him to feel well enough to even leave the house, you and Josh there to answer to his beck and call, though Josh had tired of it after about a week.

“He’s a grown man, he can walk himself to the kitchen if he wants a damn popsicle.”

“Joshua. He would do anything for you if you needed him. Have some empathy.”

You’d taken Jake the popsicle and found him sitting at his desk, an ostentatious antique with an even more pretentious wingback chair to match, scribbling on an unlined sheet of paper.

“Baby? What are you up to?”

He delicately finishes a sentence, the sound of the pencil’s lead moving over the paper hits your ears before he drops it to the desktop. “Writing them a letter, they deserve to hear from me.”

They. His fans, disappointed but concerned for his health, had shown an outpouring of love and well wishes for him online that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Looking over his shoulder, you find about half a page of flowery words explaining the progress of his recovery, rescheduled dates, and his thanks.

“They’ll like this, I think. It’s way better than those ugly blocks of texts you guys use to deliver bad news… They’re kind of impersonal, ya know?”

He coughs into the crook of his elbow before answering, a dry sound, already much better than the thick, painful sounding cough he’d come home with.

Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, he answers you, “I know, and I hate doing that to them.”

You watch him pick up the pencil again and finish it off with a line about their long awaited reunion, dropping lower and signing off with his name. He scans his own words for a second before peeking up at you and finally snatching his popsicle from your fingers. “It’s pretty good, right?”

“I think it’s very good, Jake. All of your love, huh?”

You’re referring to his sign off, heartfelt and dramatic, as he’s been known to be.

All My Love,

Jake

“Jealous, sweetheart?” There’s a playful sort of twinkle in his eyes as he grins up at you, that you’re grateful to see after so many days of the sadness that you’ve found there.

“Shut up and eat your popsicle.”

You treat him like he’s fragile until he can’t take it anymore, but the first time you’d tried anything physical since he’d come home, he came so violently down your throat that it sent him into a coughing fit that left him red in the face and unable to breathe. He’d tried in the days and weeks since, more than once you’d awoken with his hands moving over you, sometimes already rubbing soft circles into you over your underwear. He would beg you to let him make you cum, and you would, but only with his fingers.

Eleven days before they were scheduled to leave for South America, he jumped you as soon as you got home from work. Cleared with a clean bill of health, excited to get back on the road but desperate for you, he attached his lips to yours, wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you off the ground. With your ankles locked behind his back, he carried you blindly up the stairs without breaking from your kiss.

He’d fucked you, fast and dirty, bending you to his will and tossing you around the bed. Simply because he could. You’d cum hard at his command, the orgasm ripping a scream from your lungs that he’d been aching for, triggering his own that pulled a sound akin to a roar from his mouth.

Sweating, chests heaving and bodies sprawled across the sheets, you’d come down silently aside from a pleased chuckle from Jake.

From the hallway outside the bedroom door, Josh’s voice had rung out, coming in and then fading out as he’d passed and headed down the stairs.

“So glad to hear you’re feeling better, but that was absurd. Keep that shit to yourselves!”

You almost felt bad but for the next week, the sex was savage. And loud. On their birthday, Josh had presented you with what he referred to as “a gift to myself.” He pulled up an email confirmation on his phone and flipped it around, dropping it into your hands.

“You’re staying in a hotel tonight?”

“No, you two animals are staying in a hotel tonight. I will be sleeping soundly in my bed. And it will be quiet.”

You didn’t argue, just sighed and wrapped your arms around him. He stopped you when you started to apologize for the noise.

“I knew what I was signing up for when I floated the idea of you moving in, darling. I also know that you’re still wrapped up in this little honeymoon phase, and it’ll pass. Now get out, enjoy yourselves and leave me in peace!”

You’d run upstairs to pack a small bag before telling Jake what your new plans for the evening were. Digging through what was now your underwear drawer, looking for something worthy of the birthday boy, it had dawned on you.

All you packed was a change of clothes for the morning, and the oversized black band tee. His band.

Ultimately, Jake had been correct about a few things. You were ecstatic for them to be going back to South America and Mexico, to be performing again with arguably the biggest rock band in the world, their excitement had been contagious but it didn’t take long for you to miss them, and being in a house full of their things actually did help. Some. There were even a couple of nights spent in Josh’s bed, but not exactly because you missed him more.

You missed Jake so badly that it physically hurt, the scent of him in your shared bed made your chest ache, sometimes so deeply that it prevented you falling asleep. On one of those nights, tucked under Josh’s comforter, you were scrolling mindlessly through the Greta Van Fleet tag on Instagram. Already knowing that some of the things you would find there would be… odd, you scrolled and scrolled. From experience, you also knew you would find fan photos, people who’d met them or seen them out and about. Jake had told you that they were meeting people everywhere they went, and you found the evidence of that just like you’d easily found the picture of yourself in the Christmas store.

Both of the twins had been sending you their own pictures as they made their way through Chile, Argentina and Brazil, usually of distinct landmarks, exotic flowers, or beautiful blue bodies of water. But you’d started a collection of saved photos, the few that they’d sent of themselves, or each other.

As you scrolled, shifting from Instagram to your camera roll, you noticed something. Back to Instagram, you search for the band’s account and look closely at everything posted since they got to Chile. Pinch, zoom, yep. There it is. Back to your camera roll. Every picture Josh had sent you of his twin, knowing you needed them, many times taken without his knowledge.

The silver necklace, the coin. It would appear that he hasn’t taken it off since he’s been gone. It’s curious, and you’re not sure why it had caught your eye aside perhaps from the fact that it simply hasn't been his regular jewelry of choice since you’ve known him. You’re fairly certain that you understand his mind pretty well at this point, and you decide that this is deliberate. You make a mental note to remember to ask him about it before a fatigued yawn grips you.

With your eyes squeezed closed, you can feel how you’ve strained them staring at your phone in the dark of Josh’s room. Before you lock the screen for the night, you open your messages and choose the thread at the top.

Me: I love you baby

You had said your goodnights hours ago, intending to go to sleep and failing. You’re not expecting a response, but you keep typing.

Me: Will this ever get easier?

You’re awoken in the morning, entirely too early, by the ringing of your phone. Startled into consciousness, the fear hits you first, the memory of Josh’s call from Michigan still fresh in your mind. You scramble to reach for it, noting the time is actually after nine, and the name and photo on the screen are Jake’s.

Nervously, quietly, you answer. “Hello?” Met at first with silence, you try again. “Jake?”

His voice bleeds from the speaker, low in volume but directly into your ear, and as soon as you hear it your vision blurs.

“I can’t promise that it gets easier, sweetheart. I don’t know the answer to that. But I can promise you that whatever you’re feeling… I feel it too.” He waits for your response, but the soft sound of your breath hitching comes over the line. “Please don’t cry, baby, you’re breaking my heart over here.”

He listens to you weep, a melancholy mixture of quiet sobs and sniffles, offering you words that he hopes are comforting and wishing he had you in his arms.

“I- I’m sorry. You don’t need this right now, I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t be sorry, love, just.. do me a favor?”

You sniffle again, swiping your fingertips across the wet streaks left on your cheeks. “What?”

“Tell me you love me, tell me you’re all in.” You repeat his words back to him, and you mean them. He smiles to himself, a grin that you can’t see. “That’s all that matters. I’ll be home in a week.”

Seven days and thirteen hours later, he’s on his knees between your legs, wrinkled linen shirt discarded somewhere on the floor nearby and quickly joined by your leggings. He’s working on your panties, his hands are impatient as they drag the lace past your hips and down your thighs, his lips are hungry as they follow the trail of goosebumps left behind by his fingers.

From your seat at the edge of the bed, leaned back on your palms, you watch him move. The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose are faintly freckled from the Mexican sun, the first thing you’d noticed when you’d cupped his face in your hands this morning, as soon as he’d unfolded his frame from the car in the driveway. There’s also a distinct V of tanned skin down the center of his chest, his shoulders and arms still pale. The silver necklace still hangs there, apparently his new favorite.

When your underwear are slipped free from your feet, you watch him bring them to his face, balled in one of his fists. His eyes meet yours just as he buries his nose into them and breathes you in.

You don’t bother with an objection because his eyelids flutter and the honey of his irises disappears as his eyes roll back, and you feel your pussy pulse in response. When his eyes open and refocus on you, they’re nearly black.

He tosses the panties over his shoulder and skates his fingers up the backs of your legs, up your calves and settles his palms onto your knees.

“Y’know those dreams that are so… vivid that you can smell them?” His hands slip inward and slowly push your knees farther apart as you hum in acknowledgment. “I had dreams like that when we were gone, I dunno what’s in the air down there but I think it was affecting my brain.” Spreading your legs as far as they’ll go, his hands continue their journey up the insides of your thighs and he watches you open to him, revealing your arousal glistening between the folds. “I could smell your shampoo, the lotion on your skin.” He brings his face closer to your core, close enough to feel the heat rolling off of your body, closing his eyes and taking another deep inhale through his nose. You run a hand through the hair falling over his ear and sink your fingers into the tresses, guiding his face up to look at you again. “I could smell your cunt, I swear I could taste it. I’d wake up with my mouth watering and my dick pounding.”

Lost for words, all you can manage is a whisper. “Stop teasing.” You use your grip against his scalp to pull him into you, his soft chuckle rippling over your already sensitive flesh.

He savors you, his movements slow and intentional as his tongue drags over every inch of you, your lips sucked past his own as the flavor of you coats his taste buds.

With a hand lifted and placed to the center of your chest, still covered by the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts, he pushes you gently to lay back for him. As soon as your back hits the sheets, your hips are writhing against his mouth, searching for friction, searching for more, desperate to reach this first peak and get him inside you.

He lets you squirm, taking what he needs from between your thighs while your body begs him to take you higher and push you over. Knowing he’ll never truly get his fill, he’ll never actually get enough, he gives in to the demand of your hands, both now tangled in the hair at the back of his head and trying to coax him to where you need him. He sucks your clit into his mouth and rolls his tongue over it.

Your hips still and your back bows, a perfect arch over the mattress. He likes your reaction, loves it even, but something’s missing. Popping off of your pussy, he shakes his head at you.

“Let me hear you, love. I’ve been missing all those filthy sounds you make for me.” He leans in a flicks his tongue over you, pulling an airy whine from your throat. It’s not good enough, so he abandons his work and moves to trail kisses down the inside of your thigh instead.

With a bratty huff of frustration, you lift your head and find him watching you from the corner of his eye, lips still moving over your skin. You let your head drop back to the bed, annoyed.

Laced with attitude, you spit out, “Jake, come on.”

Rather than respond, or comply, you feel his tongue slip over the tender skin high inside your thigh just before he opens his mouth wide and then closes his teeth around it. Hard.

“FUCK Jake!”

That’s better, his dick jumps in his pants at the sound and he drops a hand to his lap to run it over his length. He’s painfully hard already, straining against the material but prepared to wait until he gets what he wants from you. He keeps running his lips, tongue and teeth over your thigh until he does.

“Baby please, I need you.”

“And I need you, but you’re holding back on me. Why?” When you stay silent for a beat too long, he pries further. “Tell me, or you can go to bed now, wet and aching.”

You know he’s bluffing, or you hope he is, but there’s no possibility that you’re going to test that theory.

“Josh…”

Just over the mound between your thighs, you see his brows lift, eyes burning into yours. “You better explain that, sweetheart. Now.”

“He’ll hear us.”

His features relax as a slow grin pulls one corner of his mouth upward. “So what?” Moving in close, he extends his tongue and swipes it over your clit with a pointed flick that jerks a yelp past your lips. “He doesn’t care.”

“He does, and we’ve been pretty terrible roommates so far, Jacob.”

The admonishing tone combined with the use of his full name grabs his attention. “Oh she’s serious.” He drops a kiss to the soft sprinkling of hair just above the throbbing and neglected bud between your legs. “You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Another kiss, this time with his lips puckered and placed directly over your clit. You sigh quietly at the contact. “How could I deny my sweet, perfect girl anything that she wants? Just let me hear you, make that pretty music just for me.”

Finally, he sucks you onto his tongue again, swirling it over you until your barely restrained gasps and soft moans of his name are filling the room, bouncing against these four walls. Your hands keep him pulled tight against you, muffling his own satisfied grunts and when you feel the tips of his fingers dip into you, your hips rock against them until they’re sunk in deep, until you’re fucking yourself with them. With just one curl sending them brushing over that hidden spot inside, you begin to unravel around them.

“I’m gonna cum, baby, I- oh god!”

He doesn’t stop when your legs attempt to clamp shut around his head, lapping at your release as it rushes out of you and soaks the fingers that he’s still pumping into you. He’s drawing it out, swallowing down everything that you’re giving him as if he’s been shipwrecked, stranded on a deserted island, finally presented with enough precious liquid to save his life. When your muscles go lax and your legs fall open, he slips his fingers from you slowly, careful not to waste a drop, licking a final stripe over you before popping those fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean.

Unable to will your muscles into motion, you call out to him from your position, limp and splayed out over the bed. “Pants off, now.” You don’t hear him spring into action, so you crack an eye open and lift your head enough to look down at him. He looks drunk, his eyes dazed and unfocused but still trained on your pussy. You try to prop yourself up but your limbs feel useless, so you force your other eye open to see him better and that’s when you catch it. The ends of his hair, hanging forward over his collarbones, are wet. There’s a drop clinging to his chin, catching the light as it quivers there and then falls, dripping to the floor.

“Jake, what-“

Your voice breaks through the haze and his eyes snap to yours. “I think… I’m pretty sure you just squirted.”

The word alone makes you groan, your arms finding the strength to lift and fold over your face, hiding the flaming heat turning your cheeks red. This finally has him moving, off of his knees to kneel on to mattress and hover over you, tugging your arms away to reveal your embarrassment.

“Whoa whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t say that!”

“What? ‘Squirt’?”

You slap your hands to your face, hiding it from him again. “It’s gross!”

With a gentle touch, he peels your hands away and pins them to the mattress, fingers linked with yours. Your eyes are squeezed shut as he brings his face closer. “Look at me.” You do as he asks, his tone delicate and soft as a summer breeze. “It’s not gross, nothing about you could ever be. It’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever done, right above the first time you asked me to fuck your mouth.” He’s flooded with relief when a tinkling giggle slips from between your lips, now turned up into a timid smile. “Here, feel this?” He guides one of your hands down between your bodies and places it over his cock, sucking in a hiss through his teeth when you squeeze it. He’s hard as stone, and you can feel the heat coming off of him even through his pants.

In awe of your effect on him, you whisper, “Does it hurt?”

“Mm, a little. Feels like I could explode any second.”

“Show it to me, let me see.”

He presses a fast kiss to your lips and stands from the bed, stripping himself quickly of his pants and taking his briefs with them. Completely bared to you, he watches you sit up for a closer look and wraps a hand around the base.

His cock is swollen and flushed a deep pink, the tip nearly red and leaking as he pulls his fist to it. Your brain is screaming at you, yelling for you to lean forward and taste it, but the walls of your cunt are pulsing, clenching around nothing, greedy for him. He continues to stroke himself slowly, in front of your face, wincing through the near pain of it and silently challenging you to make the next move. Whatever you want, it’s yours.

Your original need wins out and you turn away from the sight of him, beautiful and brazenly pleasuring himself inches from your lips. You crawl up the bed and place yourself comfortably upon the pillows, finding him eyeing you intensely once you’re facing him again. His hand stills on his dick as you bend both legs at the knee and let them fall open wide.

“Get over here.”

He’s on the bed in an instant, yanking the hem of your t-shirt up and revealing your breasts, pulling a nipple into his mouth as he lines himself up, lavishing it with his tongue as he crashes his hips into yours.

Unable to stop it, you scream when the head of his cock slams into your cervix. Rather than slow his pace, he takes the fistful that he still has of your shirt and shoves it into your open mouth. He’s pleased with its efficiency, the primal sounds that you’re making are pretty effectively quieted as you bite down on the cotton. Just to make sure, he pops off of your nipple and takes the other between his teeth. Your muffled mhmm, mmhmm has him driving them into the skin. Your muted squeal has his hips pistoning, jolting your body as he races to his finish.

Almost there, dangling over the edge, he lifts his face from your chest to check on you, a visual assessment that finds a sheen of sweat across your brow and your eyes rolling back in your skull.

On a ragged breath, he calls for your attention. “Babe…”

You roll your eyes forward and find him dripping with sweat, it’s rolling down his neck and traveling over his chest. The pendant of his necklace, the coin, is swinging over your face as his rhythm begins to falter.

“I’m gonna cum, fill this pussy up, you want it?” His jaw is clenched, he’s barely hanging on.

You release the shirt from between your teeth and spit it out.

“Give it to me, I want it all. Do it, Jake!”

With a strangled call of your name, your actual name, he lets go. You can feel the heat of it spilling inside you and he groans, sounding again like it’s physically painful as he fills you until his release is overflowing from your cunt, while he’s still fucking more into you. His body shudders as it finally ends, he sinks to you, hot and sticky and completely drained. Into the damp skin in the crook of your neck, he murmurs a drowsy I love you.

Hands running through the sweat-soaked strands of his hair, you say it back. He breathes into a kiss placed to that spot on your neck before rolling off of you.

He’s already slipping into sleep, you know he’s exhausted from travel and you can see it now in his features. There are soft purple shadows under the fans of his eyelashes, resting over his cheeks. You also know that he’ll wish in the morning that he had showered, washed the film of sweat and sex off of his body before passing out, but you can’t bear the thought of forcing him from the bed now.

You let your fingers trail over his chest, moving steadily with the rhythm of his breathing that’s evening out as he drifts away. Drawing a circle over the cool metal of his necklace, you whisper up to him before he’s completely gone.

“Have you been wearing this since you left?”

Barely conscious, he lifts a hand and wraps his fingers around yours that are toying with the coin.

“Mm, yeah. Haven’t taken it off.”

“Is there a reason?” You know there has to be, everything he does has a purpose, even if he doesn’t know exactly what it is.

“Finished the book you gave me for Christmas. I read it three times while we were gone. Necklace reminds me of you.”

Oh.

He’s snoring softly before you can respond. You move away from him slowly, rolling to grab your phone but not finding it on your nightstand. Quickly and quietly, you tiptoe around the room and don’t find it anywhere, so you slip your leggings back on, up and over your hips and sneak out the door.

You head first to use the bathroom, then to Josh’s bedroom door but find it slightly ajar and the room dark. After slinking down the stairs, you’re met with a dark kitchen but a soft blue glow coming from the living room. Josh is there, nearly asleep himself but still upright on the couch in front of some black and white film that doesn’t seem familiar to you. He startles only slightly when you step into the room.

“What are you sneaking around for, darling? I didn’t even hear you come down the stairs.” He pats the cushion next to him, an invitation that you accept.

“Jake’s asleep, I didn’t wanna wake him. What are you still doing up?”

“I could ask you the same, shouldn’t you be cuddling your beloved or some shit? You reek of sex.” There’s no fire behind his words as he teases you.

“I need to talk to you. I need your help.”

Just over two weeks later, they’re packed to leave again. They both pack infuriatingly light for a month-long journey through Europe, but you know they’ll cycle through five outfits, max, between the two of them

Jake saunters into your bedroom as you’re frantically sifting through your closet, tossing things out into the room as you go. He moves through the space, taking note of the open suitcase laid out on the bed as he steps toward the closet door, where a denim jacket slaps him in the face and wraps itself around his head. You haven’t even noticed and continue to throw things in his direction. He pulls the jacket free and drops it to the pile you’ve created at his feet before scaring the shit out of you.

“Running away, sweetheart?”

“Shit Jacob!” You’ve nearly jumped out of your skin, but gather yourself quickly and keep moving through your hangers. “How do you guys pack so easily, how do you know what to bring?”

“It’s simple, love, we never change our clothes. Mind if I ask, again, where you’re going?”

You push past him in the doorway and move to start folding things to put in your suitcase. He turns and follows you with his eyes as you continue to ignore his question. Crossing the room, he steps in behind you as you’re leaned over the bed and reaches around you to stop your hands from shoving another pair of jeans into the case.

“Stop, before you piss me off.” Your back stiffens at that, the authority in his tone sending a shiver down your spine that makes your toes curl. He slides his hands from yours, slowly up your arms until he’s spinning you around by your shoulders. Curiosity is lifting one of his eyebrows, the other drawn down and creasing the skin between them.

You’ve been waiting for this confrontation, thought you were ready for it but now that it’s happening, your palms are clammy with nerves. You try to wipe the anxiety from your expression, offering him your own quirked eyebrow and a sly smile.

“I’m taking a trip to Denmark.”

You watch a range of emotion flash across his face in just a few seconds, surprise, then confusion, followed by the dawn of understanding. Finally, excitement is alight in his eyes and you start to feel it too before the corners of his mouth pull downward.

“You’re coming with us. You can’t just up and come with us, this shit takes planning babe, scheduling, flights. We have a whole team that travels-“

“It’s taken care of.”

He’s still confused, understandably. “How?”

“Josh took care of it. I asked him to.” The nerves are back, sensing that he has more questions before he accepts this as truth.

He considers what you’ve told him so far, which is next to nothing, with his arms folded and a hand under his chin, running his finger over the small dimple there.

“For how long?”

“A month.”

“Baby, that’s the entire time we’ll be in Europe. What did you tell your job?”

“I quit.”

“You quit.”

“Two weeks ago. I put in my notice after Josh said he would handle the arrangements. Yesterday was my last day.”

You let him process it, not daring to move from your place in front of him, terrified that he’s going to tell you you’ve made a mistake. Your heart’s beating so rapidly that you’re sure you’re about to pass out, just before he unfolds his arms and takes both of your hands in his.

His voice is soft, sweet as cotton candy and spun up with the dreamy quality of disbelief. “You’re coming with me?”

Your fingers squeeze his, helping to ground you both in the reality of this. “I am. For as long as you’ll have me. I’ll look for a new job when we get back to the states, if that’s okay. I’m not sure wh-“

His kiss punches the air from your lungs and any other words from your brain, his hands thrown into your hair then sliding down your body until he hauls you off your feet. Arms and legs wrapped around him, you throw your head back and laugh until you truly can’t breathe. He watches from below, and he knows.

When you drop your forehead to his, he smiles back at you, that one that he now knows to be your favorite. He’d almost fucked this up, this moment that he’ll tuck away into his memory, but he’ll recall it later and it’ll be perfect.

“Forever. I’d take you with me forever, to every horizon.” Another kiss pulled from your lips, one of thousands, millions even. “I don’t give a shit if you never work again. I knew you wanted me to be your sugar daddy, sweetheart.”

The End 💔💔💔

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf @gretasimp @objectsinspvce @writingcold @gretavangroupie @sweetybre @gretasgoose @gvfjess @josh-iamyour-mama

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #jake kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut

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godesssiri · 6 months ago

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Mwahahaha!!!!! I collect antique books, mostly non-fiction, I'll grab poetry books if they're lovely enough. My favorite local thrift store gets so many books donated and they mostly just chuck out the old ones, anything with browned pages goes in the dumpster. There's a lady that works out the back who's been campaigning with the management and the people who sort/price the books, she hates the waste and loss of history. She's a friend and she saves anything she thinks I'd like and will message me if anything particularly special comes in. I've told her about how Dark Academia and Traditional styles are big in home decor and people will buy old books just to have them sit on a shelf and look **aesthetic** and I've seen re-sellers bundling together stacks of pretty old books and selling them as as sets. She's been making up little aesthetic stacks tied with twine for the last week - none of them have lasted half a day on the shop floor before they sell. She's made at least a hundred dollars for the charity from books that would have gone in the dumpster. She's thrilled and the people I've seen buying them have had the biggest smiles on their faces.

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americanwhoretheexperience · 11 days ago

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About Me?

Singers: , Lana Del Rey (Lizzy Grant) , Elvis Presley , The Doors , Jeff Buckley , Mac Demarco , Nancy Sinatra , Dominic Fike and lastly Lana Del Rey

Songs (Lana) , A&W ,Shades of cool , Guns and Roses , West Coast , Florida Kilos , Let the Light In , Sweet Carolina , Thunder , Dealer , Fuck it i love you , Mariners Apartment Complex. Trash Magic , Hundred dollar bill , ridin , kill kill , you can be the boss, driving in cars with boys .

Movies : The Notebook , Forrest Gump , Challengers , Priscilla , Meet Joe Black , Lady Bird , How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days , The Godfather , Pretty Woman .

My letterboxd is annaclaireeeb and my profile picture is Marylin Obviously .

Muses: Marylin Monroe , Elvis Presley , Priscilla Presley , Austin Butler , Mike Faist , Brad Pitt , Lana del Rey , Pamela Anderson ,Timothee Chalamet , Madelyn Cline , Gabriette , Brooke Shields , Kaia Gerber , Florence Pugh , Jacob Elordi .

Aspirations: Famous.

Hobbies: watching movies , filming movies , photography ,guitar , drawing , painting , writing , poetry , contemplation horsebackriding , shopping or thrifting (fashion,im really good at it ) , tennis , decorating , being a girlblogger and avid pinterest user , reading ,roamtiscising and making beautiful , cooking , beauty , delusion , being a highclass socialite and ofcourse driving in cars with boys

Favorites: Magnolias and Pink Roses ,

Bread and Olive Oil ( sometimes the greatest joy is eating nothing at all) , Deer, Lion , Mouse , Rabbit and Horse , I prefer to be alone , Art , My Favorite Place ? In your arms or Charleston SC , Polka Dots , Pinterest , Green or Lavender Tea, Mocktails , Brandy Melville and Vintage , Walks and Roadtrips maybe grabbing Lunch , Books ? The Godfather , Girl Interrupted, The Miracoulou Journey of Edward Tulane , Midnight in the Garden of Good and evil,My Fathers Dragon , God and Jesus Christ

What else could you possibly want to know ? But Please , Ask Away

#lizzy grant #edcore #girlblogger #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #you can be my daddy #elvis presley #girlhood

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doberbutts · 2 years ago

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And if you don’t have some of these kitchen tools, that’s fine! I didn’t when I started out either. You can do a couple things about that:

If you have the budget for it, shop at thrift stores, look on fb marketplace, go to tag sales! A lot of the stuff I have in my kitchen was not purchased new but was found for extremely cheap within my local neighborhood.

If you don’t: see if you have a local buy nothing group. Buy Nothing is a fast-growing resource that discourages people from throwing out their older, but still good, items and instead putting it back into the community where it can still serve some good. I have personally saved probably about $200 getting stuff off my local buy nothing, and I have given my own things as well. Mostly I’m getting kitchen stuff but I did get some toys and books for my niece and nephew, a timer for one of my lights, new nightstands, and I’ve seen other really nice stuff as well go by.

Another thing I’ve done is go to fundraiser sales and you can occasionally get some really nice things that way as well. I went to a fundraiser sale for the local senior center (it was on my way home while walking the dogs) and I had intended to buy the items I picked out. But they flagged me down and said honestly it was going to rain soon and they didn’t feel like hauling everything back inside so I should just take whatever I wanted and if I wanted to make a donation great but I could also just have them for free. I did donate about $15 but I also took a couple hundred dollars of knives and baking pans etc as well as some holiday decorations.

Like the reason I don’t have a dehydrator yet is because I haven’t found one in any of these areas. Eventually I either will find one or I’ll have pooled enough money to buy one, I’m not that pressed about it. But I don’t buy these things new off the shelf because I super do not have money for that sort of thing.

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arctic-hands · 1 year ago

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ThriftBooks, I have a question for you: you have "thrift" in the name, so what makes you think your freebie swag of one hundred dollars off a one hundred and sixty dollar case of fancy wine is useful to the majority demographic buying your books?

#i got so excited for a hundred dollars of fancy wine until i read the fine print order minimum #the venn diagram of 'thrifters' and 'expensive wine drinkers' is such a tiny overlap they're mostly 2 circles #i think the most I've ever paid for alcohol was like twenty seven dollars #alcohol #thriftbooks #so now i have two useless gift cards as bookmarks i guess

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neopronouns · 2 years ago

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man, now i wanna be punk... got any resources i can look at avout the movement and the people or just useful stuff in general?

mrri [i] don't have any specific resources, but here's mrry [my] tips (keep in mind mrri'm [i'm] still kind of a baby punk fjklgsdk):

above all else, being punk is about radically caring about people! kindness in the face of an uncaring society, listening to and boosting the voices of marginalized people, attending protests (or helping in other ways), and leftist ideology in general are core tenets of punk politics. hate governments and oppressive systems and care deeply for the people being hurt. many people who decide to look/act the part of a punk already hold their beliefs!

in that vein, try to get involved with local activism! this doesn't just include going to protests/marches, doing sit-ins, etc. - volunteering at a local food bank, boycotting products, graffiti, hacking, and all sorts of other things can be punk. any way you can stick it to the man, no matter how small, is great.

don't buy into the commercialization of punk fashion. if you want a punk wardrobe, you don't have to spend hundreds of dollars on punk-style clothes from mainsteam brands. rip up cheap tights, make chains out of can tabs, sew patches onto your jackets and pants, dye your clothes black, buy a pair of combat boots and wear them until they fall off your feet, whatever! diy-ing, mending, and thrifting are all parts of the punk look, so if you can do those things, do them, and if you don't know how, look it up and try it out!

pick a band in one of the punk genres (such as punk rock, riot grrrl, folk punk, queercore, etc.), listen to an album, and branch out from there! punk music varies greatly, so you'll probably find something that really speaks to you. mrri [i] personally recommend starting with more modern music and working your way back, since that'll let you adjust to the genre first and then start learning punk musical history, but it's your call!

engage with other punk creations! films, visual art, stories, dance - there are punks in every artistic field, and chances are they'll teach you something wonderful.

create! put your feelings about society into something - paintings, songs, stories, whatever calls you. make tons of shitty art and love every bit of it. there may be open art exhibitions, zines, or other events near you (or in your online communities) that you can showcase your work in or view work from other punks in.

explore political theory! punk philosophical and political papers/books are great (and tend to be free somewhere), but if reading long texts is difficult for you, you can find documentaries, podcasts, youtube videos, etc. you may find it more accessible to follow punks on social media and learn through that as well.

overall, punk is not rigid in any sense. you may look different from other punks, listen to different music, make different art, etc., but you'll be united by your similar ideologies, and that's what matters.

and, very importantly:

FUCK FASCISTS! there are fascists in punk spaces, and you need to not only not listen to what they say, but work with other punks to make these spaces hostile towards them. actively reject their messaging.

#long post #fascism ment #punk stuff #(gonna tag it that in case mrri [i] talk punk stuff more)

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goldeneyedgirl · 2 years ago

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Re: sex-worker alice— Have you written jasper finding out the alice he left is a sex worker? Cause oof i need to see the reaction to that

The initial meeting between Alice and the Cullens - from Alice's POV - happens on the street accidentally, and Edward identifies the bruises Alice has as something she does for work and is consensual - Jasper is definitely more focused on finding and harming the person who inflicted harm on Alice than comprehending what Alice actually did as a job.

There are also notes for a scene where the various Cullens try to get Jasper to talk about Alice's career choice and Jasper very stubbornly refuses to talk.

The below is the closest I've gotten to the first kind of confrontation, and is a very very rough draft

I'd say I was surprised to see another Cullen waiting for me after work, but I would have been more surprised to be left alone honestly. The surprising part is that it was Jasper. I was sure Carlisle and Esme would make another bonding attempt before Jasper came near me.

He stood up like a gentleman when I walked over, looking every bit as good as I remembered, but I had long since stopped caring what the Cullens thought of my clothing or how I looked. Not everyone was as wealthy and privileged as they were, and sometimes food and shelter came before plush winter coats and buttery-soft leather boots. Not all of us could have flawless skin and glossy hair every moment of the day.

…Maybe I was still a little jealous.

"Hi." Jasper's voice is soft, and I can feel his eyes search mine for a moment before I look away, to jam my phone in my bag.

“Hi. Wasn’t sure who to expect today,” I said in a wry voice. “Figured it would be Esme again.”

He chuckled. “Are we that transparent?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

"Just because you didn't want to see me naked, doesn't mean other people don't," I said calmly, taking a sip of my milkshake.

Jasper scoffed, and for a moment, he looked annoyed. "That's not true," he began, and I raised my eyebrows. That was probably the closest we’d ever gotten to actually discussing sex. Some very restrained and polite kisses were the closest we got - the singular time we came close to making out, he’d insisted he leave. And I know my sixteen- and seventeen- year old self in her Hello Kitty underwear and thrift shop dresses wasn’t exactly the stuff of teenage fantasies, but I had definitely wanted more back then.

Jasper gritted his teeth and changed the subject. "I thought you got free college through the state?”

"I get free tuition. I still need to pay for food and shelter and clothing and books,” I said. “Plus I need a car, and new glasses and a whole bunch of human things. The details don’t matter, Jasper, I need to work to afford school.”

“Not like this,” he snapped, and I realised this was as upset as I had ever seen him.

"An hour of my time starts at one hundred dollars, Jasper," I retorted. "The house pays me sixty from that. There are no jobs for nineteen year old high school graduates that pay close to that. I've had nights where I’ve made a thousand dollars.”

He turned his head away from me. "I don't want to know that.”

"Why?" I demanded. "Because if it's some antiquated notion that I should have stayed virginal and pining for you - after you left without saying a word - whilst being screamed at by women who wanted extra foam in their coffee for ten bucks an hour we have nothing left to say to one another. We both know that you haven't sat around since the Civil War waiting patiently for marriage, so why was I supposed to? Especially when you had no intention of ever seeing me again?”

"You're selling your body, Alice. You can't expect me to be okay with that.”

“It’s my body,” I hissed, standing up. I almost missed Esme’s sad eyes and flowery euphemisms about saving me from my bad choices. “You don’t get to fuck off secretly and then turn up two years later - by accident - to judge me and complain and send your family to try and save me from myself. I needed saving when I was sixteen. Not now.”

Shouldering my bag, I turned to leave when his hand whipped out and clamped around my wrist suddenly and I tried not to flinch, the old bruises protesting at his tight grip.

“You were supposed to be mine,” he said in a low tone that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Whether it was something supernatural or just the anger in his voice, I didn’t know.

I pulled my wrist away and he let me go. “No,” I said quietly. “I’m not property, Jasper. And whatever we were supposed to be was over the minute you left me in Forks alone. Tell your family that I don’t work Wednesdays.”

And with that, I walked away.

#anon #memes #alice cullen #jasper hale #jalice #my fic: sex worker alice #jasper's more angry with himself than with alice #he remembers her as a sunny high school student #not as this wary girl who doesn't smile as much #mostly because she doesn't trust them anymore #and the transition between high school foster kid to working independent adult with no support system was hard on her

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pbandjesse · 2 years ago

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Welp James got hit by another vehicle. Thankfully this time they were just a bit banged up. But Jesus Christ. I am so upset. Their bike is a little bent up and the person didn't even say sorry. They doored them and knocked them down. And honestly it could have been so much worse!! I hate that this happened again. My heart hurts so much because I am so worried for my husband.

Today wasn't a bad day before this though. I was just tired. I got to sleep a little longer which helped me feel a little more out together.

I got dressed and had a bagel. I felt pretty positive for the day.

I left here and went to the museum. I got there a little early to load in the leftover boxes from from outreach yesterday. A man in the parking lot told me he liked my bird collection, referring to my molcars. And he laughed when I told him they were actually hamsters.

It was a good day though. I was training the new Jess. And we had a city builder program and a neighborhood tour. And we ended up with an excellent teacher who had a great handle on the kids.

So it made it really easy. And I really had fun with them. They were 2nd graders, which is the oldest that do these programs (and the youngest that will do a regular tour and cannery) so you never know where they are going to be at. But they were awesome. We did finish each program a little early but that was fine. We would look around the galleries and they were sweet kids.

They were just a little embarrassed to wear the costumes. But I think they got into it by the end. They loved buying things and spending tokens and getting paid at their little jobs. It was super cute.

The bank actually went super well. I didn't need the extra time I built in. So once I got everyone finished their bank books and collected their costumes I took them to the car to play and take pictures.

We had about 10 minutes there. So me and Jess went and reset the galleries and got the costumes. And by then it was time to go to lunch.

During lunch I had the dumplings I brought and reset the costumes. Got everything on hangers. I started getting a little lightheaded so I would sit down and take a break.

And then it was time to take them to the movies. I grabbed my crochet to take to the front desk, gave them a five minute warning and went to make sure the dvd was working.

Someone turned off the DVD player which was annoying but James fixed it and everything was fine.

I dropped them off at the theater and sat with James and crocheted. They went to heat up their lunch. I helped a few guests. Found out that our event person doesn't like when we answer any questions about events. Which is ridiculous because they aren't even in this building 80% of the time so what would you like us to do? It's the polite thing to try to help guests, and like yeah if I don't know I'll direct them to you but if you aren't answering your phone you don't get to be mad. Whatever. I honestly don't care if they are mad I just think it's wild that that is something they are mad about.

I enjoyed sitting with James though. And once the video was over I got the kids to their coats and on the bus. It was nice to be done.

I had to call my rheumatologist because they had called me. They had to reschedule my appointment to Thursday. Not shocking I thought it was weird they were making appointments for MLK day.

And I made plans with Callie to have a late lunch tomorrow. I was feeling good.

But I was very tired. I would reset the rest of the costumes that got used today. And then went to sit with James until I could leave.

I decided to go walk around the second chance, the big furniture thrift store.

And I had fun looking but man we're the prices outrageous. Some stuff was normal. $20 or $30 bookshelves. A few I considered but decided not to get in the end. But some stuff that didn't need to be was hundreds of dollars!! Like at one point I found a dirty bean bag chair for $200???? I was so confused.

There were a few things I was seriously considering. One was a beautiful painted dresser but if it was tomorrow it would be a reasonable price (because every few weeks the ticket price drops) and so I decided it wasn't meant to be. Maybe if I go back next week and it's still there.

I got very very tired all of a sudden. And I really wanted to be home.

So I did just that. I went home and I curled up on the couch. I worked on my crochet. I would finish 5 squares today. I read a little. I made an early dinner of oven fries and veggie chicken nuggets. Our oven was not working well and I was getting frustrated but it was fine in the end and eating made me feel better.

When James got home they were really angry and upset. Half way home a driver doored them. Knocked them down. Bent their handlebars. Broke their phone mount. And they didn't even say sorry. I wish they got their info but they were to shaken up. Worried about their collarbone. Which thankfully seems fine. They say their wrist and elbow and hip hurt. Their emotions probably hurt the most. It's scary and I am so frustrated that it has happened again.

James was really upset though and so they went for a walk to cool down. And I tried not to cry. When James got home I just held them on the couch for a long time.

We would hang out. Work on our own stuff. I got in bed. Watched videos. Tried to just be calm.

I just got a shower and me and James have been talking and trying to process. The scary feelings. I am just really worried for them you know?

But now we will sleep. Tomorrow James has the engineering event at the museum. They are going to try to see if the bike shop can help the bend in their bike handle and realign their tires. And I have my second workshop at the national guard. I am nervous but this project was super popular this summer so I have high hopes.

I am trying to not be super upset but it is hard. Send us some good vibes. Be safe and watch out for bikers.

Goodnight everyone. Sleep good.

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jodilin65 · 7 years ago

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TUESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2017 So glad nothing bad has befallen us since having a series of horrible dreams. This gives me hope that nothing bad will happen to Tammy in a couple of years.

Really hoping today is quieter but I know it won’t be. There have been landscaping sounds on and off every single day and it is so annoying. Just so, so annoying.

Last night I dreamed that someone was complaining about their hair being “broken.” I told them that mine was too, and showed them the short fuzzy hairs mixed in with the long ones that formed a sort of halo around my head.

Then I dreamed I was stranded on a small ship with some woman during a vicious storm. Eventually, the storm passed and the ship docked itself along a sandy beach while we had fallen asleep. We awoke to a whole different world and people wanting to make a movie of the adventure that supposedly brought me and the woman closer.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 30, 2017 The park just had to pick a Sunday of all days to spoil the peace and have some trees removed around the park, three of them being by the Twenties’ place. They cut them down to mere stumps, so I saw when I was out on an early-morning power walk. I thought they were just trimming them. The noise was so annoying in here that I can just imagine how maddening it had to be for them. And the poor Twenties had just paid a couple of hundred dollars to have a couple of limbs removed. How he wishes he had waited! That would piss me the fuck off, too.

There was still some fun in the mix. We went back to the Echo thrift store and I got a small pet carrier that these rats would probably hate, but that may be a future rat of ours would like. It’s a pink zippered bag with black paw prints and a screened area so they get plenty of ventilation. Maybe I’ll see if Burke wants to go on the patio in it. I would think it would be safer than a harness.

I also got some colorful kiddy crap I don’t need, as usual, LOL. An Asian doll in a really pretty colorful kimono, a Barbie I really don’t want but that came with the Asian doll, and a colorful “furry” clutch.

He got some goodies as well.

Then it was off to get ice cream at Baskin-Robbins. He got chocolate chip cookie dough with caramel topping, and I got the baked waffle cone with hot fudge.

When I got a friend request from a guy I didn’t know, I asked him if we ever talked anywhere before and how he found me, planning to decline his friend request if he blew me off or gave me an answer I didn’t like. But it turns out he read the very first book I published and wanted to connect with me for links to future titles because he really liked the book. He said he totally understood, however, that not everybody was that sociable and that if I didn’t want to add him, that would be okay.

My first thought was that he might be connected to Maliheh who might be looking to see where the link is to that book which I mentioned was going to undergo massive editing in one of my emails to her about her hijacked account, even though that book has not yet been edited. If she was paranoid enough about her name being used to pretend to be my friend then she would certainly be paranoid when she knows I can’t stand her after the way she lied to me.

Just to be sure there was no connection, I logged out of my account and into Tom’s account to see if I could find her on his friend list, and I couldn’t. With over 3000 friends and everything I checked out about the account, Kevin P in Washington State does seem legit. He added a couple of friends of mine, which I thought was a bit weird and that sometimes annoys me when friends do that, but from all appearances, I’d say he’s quite a friend collector overall. After all, no one has that many friends no matter how likable you may be. Yet he seems to have people on his friend list from all walks of life and many in his hometown.

The only other thing I thought was a bit weird is that if he could remember my name to look me up on Facebook, why couldn’t he have looked me up on Amazon? I gave him the link but he doesn’t appear to have gotten anything yet. I’ll keep a close watch on him but he does seem harmless. Besides, what could he do to me anyway?

It was cool to be added by a book fan. This is the first time I’ve been looked up on Facebook because I’m an author.

Once I’m sure I’m not going to hear from Kathleen, I may consider once again sharing journal links with Facebook friends, but I think it’s easier for now just to share unedited material with Tammy and let others go to the journal on their own which I’ll probably set back the public. There really isn’t any reason, I suppose, for it to remain MO.

But yeah, I’m having serious doubts about ever hearing from Kathleen. If a detention officer could blow me off and then my own therapist (along with countless others be it for potential friendships or more) then why wouldn’t my dentist’s office manager blow me off as well?

I created another account on my-diary where I could write a little more freely, not that it would be the end of the world if anyone figured out who I am despite my changing names. I discussed Kathleen a bit and asked if anyone had any opinions. They said they think she probably finds flirting at work a fun escape from a boring marriage but didn’t intend to actually act on those feelings. I totally agree, not that I want to get it on with her. But I believe she doesn’t really want to act on a friendship either. This is still assuming my gut feeling is right in the first place and that she’s not just a super friendly person.

I had a dream the other night that Tammy got some new job, and last night I dreamed that Andy called to wish me a happy birthday. Good luck with that. He doesn’t know this number.

Then we must’ve been renters in the mainstream because I was upset to learn that it would be unlikely that we would be able to get a manufactured home because we only made something like 28K a year. I was pretty pissed that he was being paid half of what he should be paid. But then he said he made 31K that year.

Then Tom asked me to throw something away and for some reason, I stumbled absentmindedly to the neighbors and began to dump whatever it was in their pail. By the time I realized what I’d done, I said to a young guy who was outside the house that anytime they needed extra space for trash, they could use our pail.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 29, 2017 The last couple of days I had borderline anxiety and my heart got a little racy. It’s also starting to get a little too easy to lose weight and I’m kind of surprised I haven’t had the runs. To be on the safe side, I skipped my meds yesterday. I haven’t officially hit menopause yet and therefore my hormones could still be a bit out of whack, making me more sensitive to a lower TSH.

Still experiencing some pain in my mouth and still hoping I won’t have to make yet another dentist appointment to find out why. It’s like the harder I try to slow down the appointments, the more shit comes up. I want to be able to go a few months between appointments, not a few weeks. But now I may have to go back to the dentist as well as to a dermatologist. Not sure a dermatologist can help me, though, if my rashes are due to having an AI disease.

Speaking of which, I just finished running my journals from 1997 through Grammarly and read that my mother did in fact have low thyroid, high cholesterol, and diabetes. Her diabetes may have come from the fact that she spent most of her time sitting on her ass in front of the TV.

We picked up our new glasses yesterday. Mine is stylish and nice-looking for one who has to wear them all the time. I miss my perfect vision more than my slim body. When we were there I saw that they accept old glasses as donations. Wish I’d brought in my oldest pair. If someone who’s struggling financially can use them, great. Every time I get new glasses I weed out my oldest pair. I have several pairs scattered throughout the house… in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the bedroom. My oldest pair is the ugliest. They’re brown single-vision lenses. I got them before we moved in here. I’ll bring them in when we go to get prescriptions.

Walmart gave us a bunch of free goodies when we picked up the groceries, which was nice. Especially after the way they screwed things up online so much. They go out of stock a lot, they mess up our favorites section, etc. Anyway, there was candy, oatmeal, a can of SpaghettiOs, a sponge, facial cleanser, hot chocolate, toothpaste, Chapstick, and a can of Starbucks strawberry lemonade soda.

Part of the stuff came in a Christmas stocking which I hung in the rats’ cage, even though they may be a bit big to burrow into it. These breeds don’t usually get as big as hoodies, but they are big boys.

I got my incense yesterday and I absolutely love it! It’s as fresh as the woman told me it would be and smells wonderful. I was surprised to find that the sticks were colored in lots of fun colors, and she also gave me nine extra fragrances. Fortunately, none of them have any kind of a citrus smell to them. The bags have large easy-to-read labels as well. I’m burning X-Tasy now.

Yesterday I got an idea when browsing Pinterest, a site that annoys me as much as I love it, for painting decorative rocks. I went out and got a fairly good-sized rock, rinsed it, and later I’ll take my nail art polishes and see if I can paint some flower designs on it.

I’d like to go out today but I don’t know where to go. The thing about having money is that I now have everything I could ever want or need (except for a house on the beach in Hawaii), so I don’t need to go shopping and I don’t like to eat out very much. Too many calories that way. Besides, we just got groceries. Maybe it’s time to look into that indoor skydiving place we saw.

Last night I dreamed that I went to a restaurant and was waiting for Tammy to join me. I had a baby Berkshire rat and an adult dumbo that was cream-colored with me. There were cutouts for windows but no actual windows in the openings. I looked out the “window” by the booth I sat in and spotted my father. I asked him to go get me a camera. He fetched me one in two seconds and I took pictures of the rats.

Then Tammy joined me and I said, “The reason I want to show you what Burke looks like is so you can see how soft and shiny he is being a brown-black color.” LOL

But the baby Burkey turned shy and decided to hide in a glass full of some powdery or sandy substance. Instead, she got to meet the cream Dumbo, haha. One of the last things she would ever want to meet.

In the last dream, the courts decided that I should do the remaining six months of probation that I got out of in Arizona. The only difference is that there didn’t seem to be as much time from when it ended. It seemed like within a year of being let go early, I sent Scott a letter thanking him for putting in a good word for me to get me off early, and then I was ordered to finish it and had to go back and see him. I believed it didn’t have anything to do with my letter to him, though why I let them order me around like that in this day and age is beyond me. I guess we just do weird things in dreams. It was strange too because I was contemplating making him some incense and giving it to him at our final meeting.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28, 2017 It’s now been four months since I had a period. Yes! I now see a faint sliver of hope that I could be done, but half a year will bring a bigger ray of light as far as hope goes.

Thank God I’m not having dream premonitions regularly like I was before we moved here. Again Tom died suddenly and unexpectedly in my dreams, despite having a good check-up the other day. His blood work was normal, his BP was good, and he was down 5 pounds.

I don’t know what killed him, but I was home alone walking by the bed he had just slept in just minutes or a few hours ago at most. I don’t know if I thought these words or said them out loud, but either way, they were something to the effect of, “Maybe if I could drive and had a job I would consider living on. I’m at the point in life where I don’t think I could get anyone, and even if I could, they’d never be like Tom.”

I would definitely not want to live a moment without him no matter how much money and transportation I had, along with a million hotties swearing that they didn’t mind my CRD and weirdness. There’s just no way I could stand such extreme depression. I would miss him and the things we would do together way too much to carry on.

It got me thinking and I really think we should get it gun when we move. Not for protection but so I can have a quick and convenient exit should he go first. Florida and Hawaii are much too hot for sending myself off with a carbon monoxide party. That method is a bit more complicated and I would be afraid I would fuck it up. But as long as I put the muzzle of a gun in the right spot, I’d be gone in a second. No having to worry about temperature, sealing windows, sealing vents, etc. Just BAM! And I’d be gone.

Anyway, I walked down to the lake and gave the dogs the last few pieces of the rats’ bread and finished the laundry. Tom should be up soon, then we’ll pick up the groceries in a few hours, and then pick up our new glasses.

One of the Twenties’ friends in Texas added me. Also in Texas is the perfect doll deal. Yeah, after months and months of research (I think TPE would be better than silicone) I totally wish we had that tax refund already! For just under 2k I can get a totally customized body with two heads, two sets of eyes, two wigs, two outfits, plus other things. I doubt they’ll have this promotion until February or March, though.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 27, 2017 Today my very first journal entry - my very first serious one, anyway - is 30 years old. 30 years of journaling. Now that’s pretty impressive! I’m glad that I have tried, even if I didn’t want to stick them out and haven’t done them in centuries, many different things in life… singing, dancing, figure skating, languages, creative writing, instruments, drawing, painting, knitting, crocheting, plus things I’m probably forgetting.

We went out walking again in the wee hours of the night. No dog this time. I figured it was just an isolated incident. It better be, anyway.

Tom said Pawandeep had five cavities filled and this time she met an “older” dentist. LOL, so I guess my dentist wasn’t the one that she saw the first time. Because she didn’t have to drill very deep she didn’t numb her. I’m surprised. I didn’t know cavities could be filled without numbing.

Really hoping I’m not going to have to start skipping a few doses of my meds because yesterday I felt borderline anxious, as well as a little bit this morning. Hopefully, it’s just me being paranoid because my numbers are lower. I’ll start making skips if need be, though. Comfort will always take precedence over numbers.

My heart raced towards the end of the day yesterday and then I became so fatigued. I crashed early and ended up sleeping a surprising 11 hours. I was up a long time the day before and didn’t sleep long, so that’s probably why I slept a long time. Pretty sure my heart only got a little racy because I had just eaten quite a bit. The diet I’m on is almost a partial fasting diet but not quite. I’m still metabolically fucked, so I’m not doing anything extreme. Instead of multiple small meals, however, I find it easier to have 2-3 snacks and 2 meals, one in which I eat until I’m full.

Wondering if someone tried to hack my Facebook account because I got a notice from them saying they noticed I was having trouble logging in. No, I wasn’t. I stay logged in except for when I occasionally check Tom’s account. Maybe someone typed their email address incorrectly. I let them know, however, that I wasn’t having trouble trying to log in.

My incense arrived in Rocklin last night, so UPS should be delivering it today. With my shit luck, it will be after I crash, but we’ll see. Hopefully, I’ll be surprised.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 26, 2017 Unbelievable. Just unfuckingbelievable. We went out walking shortly after 3 AM as we usually do before he has to work a few hours later. We were heading up from the back of the park when all of a sudden, this loud barking erupts. I was startled into a run, first thinking it was coming from over the wall and wanting to get away from the obnoxious sound. Then it hit me that it was awfully loud and close sounding to be outside the park, and I heard Tom say something. I stopped, turned around, and saw that someone’s mutt had been chasing me but stopped when Tom stopped. It took a few seconds for the thing to stop advancing and all the while I was thinking, “Come any closer and I’ll kick you. Just lunge at me and I will absolutely kick you to death, mutt.”

Seriously, had the fucking thing taken one more step towards me, I would have kicked the crap out of it, but then I’m sure Tom would have taken care of it first if it was determined to attack us like I thought it might at first. Afterward, though, he told me he was pretty sure that it wasn’t barking in an aggressive manner and that we were just a game to it much like people on bikes.

I don’t care, though. I don’t appreciate someone’s mutt charging me and barking its little ass off like that. How the hell was I supposed to know if it was going to attack or not? I don’t know this dog. My God, though, NO animal has never annoyed the fuck out of me like other people’s dogs have.

Anyway, the thing stopped when he stopped and sternly told it to go away. We heard some woman calling to it and eventually, it was smart enough to listen and back off.

First of all, the fucking thing exceeds the park’s size limitation, and secondly, why wasn’t it on a leash? I would have been absolutely terrified had I been alone, and I might have been because sometimes I do go out by myself. For a second I contemplated getting the house number and reporting them to the park, but as Tom pointed out, it’s the first time it ever happened. If it happens again, though, then you bet we’ll call the park. I’m fucking sick of people not controlling their dogs!

I wonder if it woke their neighbors up. It was quite loud. It may not be the dog’s fault that the owner was dumb enough not to put it on a leash, but maybe if someone ends up harming it if they get charged and bitten, it will teach the owner a lesson and set an example of why it’s important to control your damn dogs!

I just can’t believe it, though. I can’t fucking believe it. I’m being chased in the middle of the night by loose dogs in a gated retirement community. Wow. Just wow. Come on after me again, mutt.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 25, 2017 Moondancer’s site was glitchy so I decided to order some incense from The Dipper. I’ll be getting 31 different fragrances in packs of 10. The fact that it was shipped today tells me it’s not freshly made, so I might not like it as much. It’s a good thing I didn’t get even more. I probably should have gotten less, but I’m sure I’ll like most of it. I’ll be trying the following fragrances:

African Sunrise Almond Joy Angel Essence Baby Powder Balsam Fir Birthday Cake Black Coconut Black Love Blueberry Butt Naked Butterfly Garden CK-1 Carolina Herrera Cedar & Saffron Cherry Blossom Cherry Vanilla Chocolate Brownie Chronic - Hip (don’t ask me what the hell this one smells like but I can’t wait to find out!) Cinnamon Bun Coconut Cotton Candy Dragon’s Breath Dream Catcher Egyptian Dragon Enchanted Forest French Vanilla Kush Lick Me All Over Midnight Lover Mulberry Musk

Tom did his own research on incense, oils and supplies and came up with Nature’s Garden and they seem to have a good variety and reasonable prices. Looks like ordering should be easier too, because it’s just a list with a checkbox where you check what you want. With the others, you had to go to each one separately and it would take forever to order a larger quantity. They also let you create a wish list so you have the option of saving what you haven’t tried yet to it. They have something like 800 fragrances and knowing me, I’m sure I’ll want to try at least 600 of them over time, haha. They don’t sell incense, though, or blank sticks. They only sell reed diffusers. I would likely get sticks from someone else, but get oil from them because their prices are lower. You can get anywhere from 2 ounces to 25 pounds. I’m going to get their 2-ounce bottles which are $2.65 each but not right now. I’ll give them a try in a few months. If I go making and burning incense like crazy despite how much I love the stuff, I won’t be able to breathe.

I still have pain in my mouth. That can’t be right. Something’s got to be wrong. But if there’s anything up there trying to keep the appointments going, it’s not going to win. It’s weird because it sometimes seems to radiate from my upper jaw and down around to my lower jaw. Sometimes it comes on its own, but it’s usually triggered by food or drink.

They turned the water off later than they said they were going to, but I was going to bed at the time so it didn’t affect me in any way.

When I got up at 8:30 and was waiting till it was time to have coffee, I heard what I thought was either people cheering or kids screaming. My first thought was that the stroke house was blasting their fucking TV. But when I looked out the window I saw Trisha had four vehicles at her place. Birthday party or something? I thought I would be in for a lot of door slamming, but everybody left while I was in the shower.

After my first day of going back to eating four times a day every three hours, I’m down a pound. I’m going to see if I can do this diet until I see A, so no eating out for me until then. By the time I see the doctor, I should know if my body is able to lose more than just a few pounds or not without getting severely anxious. If it can’t, then it’s not worth doing this diet all the time except for when I creep up a few pounds like I just did.

I’d love to be under 150 when I see her but I don’t see how I could do that in just 40 days. That would mean I would have to wake up at 146 or 7 the day I saw her. I’m 154.2. The best I can do is 150 if this keeps working and I’m able to stick to it, and that’s a very big IF.

I’m trying really hard not to think in the realms of, “Sooner or later you’re going to get anxious as hell, and if you could just stand to stick it out, you’ll lose 10 pounds in no time.”

Regardless of how she acted when I saw her and what my gut feeling was saying, there’s absolutely no way Kathleen likes me. She may later seek me out as a friend (although I doubt it), not that we would have been more than friends either way. The point is that I guess I can’t always trust my gut instinct after all. I always sensed her niceness went beyond simple friendliness, but that obviously wasn’t the case. She would have remembered my name, remembered when I was scheduled to come in, bought my books unless she doesn’t have a Kindle or hates to read, and would have contacted me by now. If I really liked someone that much that told me to feel free to look them up, I would have at least contacted them and said that while I understood they may not be up to shopping anytime soon, I just wanted to say hi, etc.

Last night I dreamed I was walking along a beach. I walked along the shore which was flanked by hedges. When I noticed several bees flocking around the hedges it made me uncomfortable so I went out into the water.

Tom and I were in some building. I don’t know why or who it was, but we agreed to let this person know when we were ready to be picked up and taken who knows where. The way we were to let them know when we were ready to go was by waving a flashlight back and forth in the window.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 24, 2017 I got to missing the gourmet incense that I would order hand-dipped upon request and even thought back to the days when I used to make and sell the stuff, too. Didn’t make much money at it but I sure had a lot of fun. Then my favorite supplier went out of business when the owner went to prison for molesting his daughter. I later found another supplier but eventually, times were tough and I gave it up for a while. Besides, the incense could sometimes make me congested and leave a messy residue on things when I would get carried away with it, having so much fun with all the different fragrances.

Good incense must be dipped and burned within a few months or less for maximum freshness. If anybody knows this, it’s me. A lot of the store-bought crap I’ve had lately has been sitting on the shelves for a lot more than just a few months and is mostly dried out and smoky. Therefore, I’ve been relying on oil diffusers, wax warmers, air fresheners, and perfumes to satisfy my obsession with good smells.

My last supplier’s still around and I browsed their site with its thousands of fragrances. Not thinking I would ever order again, I dumped the favorites list that I had accumulated way back when. I kind of regret it too, though I do remember some of them. They have everything from sweets, fruits, and flowers to designer perfumes and novelty fragrances.

It was cool how the old familiar terminology and stuff like that came back to me when I was browsing around. I checked out a do-it-yourself kit which comes with 1000 punks (blank bamboo sticks), cutter, and other things. I never cut my incense, though, always preferring it full strength for maximum richness. Cutter is basically scentless oil that you use to dilute the scented oils. With the kit I’ll eventually order, you get to choose five different fragrances. I’m going to go with Pink Sugar, one of my favorite perfumes, Lady Chocolate, Warm Vanilla Sugar, Caramel Velvet Cream, and Vermont Maple Syrup.

If you have the money for supplies, then making incense is pretty easy. You just need containers and drying space. You soak them for about a day in the oils and then you let them dry for a couple of days before you bag them. I would gather the sticks and tie rubber bands around the ends that don’t burn and leave them standing on a wad of paper towels. Tied like that they form a bit of a teepee, so they can balance themselves easily enough. One thing about making homemade incense is that your place will never stink of anything bad. Not pets. Not trash. Not anything. All you’ll smell is goodness.

After I have fun experimenting with Moondancer’s incense which will be just for me and just for fun, I will order supplies from SaveOnScents for my own enjoyment as well as to share with family, friends and neighbors. Probably Kathleen and my dentist, too. I might eventually sell it.

When buying retail it’s hard to get a good variety without spending a fortune, but for 50 bucks, including shipping, I’m going to be trying a whopping 408 fragrances from Moondancer. They sell them by the stick at nine cents apiece, so I got one stick per fragrance. It’s a treat I look forward to!

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2017 Just did a bit of housecleaning. I really do love this house even though it’s a little old and there’s more noise than I’d like in the daytime. The layout is ideal, though we’d gladly take an extra bedroom.

Even the colder weather isn’t always so bad because when I’m hot flashing I can step outside momentarily to cool off. Couldn’t do that in Florida, but I’m hoping that if we really do move there someday I’ll be long over that by the time it happens.

We’ve got another warm spell on the way. It’s going to be in the 80s all week and by the late afternoon, we could need the AC for a few hours.

After giving the rats the bones from my pork chop dinner I went out walking. This time I headed toward the back. I wore a T-shirt and it was 68°. I started off chilly and then I was glad I didn’t wear long sleeves. 10 minutes into a workout and you’re really feeling the heat. So by the time I hit the back of the park, I was plenty warmed up.

They painted the speed bumps so now they’re white instead of yellow.

Maybe this is a bit judgy of me, but how can so many abusive mothers say they “did their best?” Why not just come out and admit that you fucked up? If you’d done your best you wouldn’t have slapped your kids around. You wouldn’t have called them names. You wouldn’t have made them feel like worthless pieces of shit. You wouldn’t have made them afraid to go home after school. Maybe what you really did your best at was making piss-poor excuses for your behavior.

Been watching season two of Slasher and trying not to think of my much lower TSH numbers and the fact that if I were to have pocket flares now, I’d really be feeling miserable.

I’m back to backing up stuff on Dreamwidth which is automatically cross-posting to LiveJournal.

I’ve been feeling and sleeping so well lately that I’m not remembering much of my dreams. Something about being on vacation and dolls? Then there was something about some black people (the ones who screwed me in Arizona?) getting a dog that I had wanted. I was bitching about it as I was walking by their place with Tom and he got paranoid, telling me to lower my voice so I didn’t get beat up. I just laughed. Unless a whole group of them came at me, I told him, I wasn’t the least bit scared.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2017 I’m a little lightheaded and I hope it’s only because of the sugar I’ve had. I almost feel like I have a slight cold. First day I haven’t had to take anything for tooth pain, so that’s good.

Last night I dreamed we had a huge shower stall and there was a couch in it. I was struggling to push it away from the spray of water so I could get myself wet more easily and not have the couch get all wet and smelly.

Then I was testing some allergy powder and discovering nature sounds on this weird little radio.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 20, 2017 Fortunately, nothing bad has happened to me since having that nightmare about the runaway car.

In one of last night’s dreams, I’m not sure if it was a wild rat or a rat that had been our pet that we couldn’t keep for some reason, but something forced us to dump this really friendly rat. We were heartbroken over it. We were out walking, although he might’ve been on a bike, and the poor thing was following us. We moved quickly to try to lose it and it was just so sad.

In another dream, it was nighttime when I came across an iPad and some other device (a phone?) sitting on the trunk of a car somewhere. I somehow knew that someone had gotten a hold of the iPad to stalk the owner of it and mess with their accounts.

Then I dreamed that I set up a Twitter account in my name, reached out to Aly and said that it had been a long time since I’ve been on Twitter and that I just wanted to say hello. When I woke up it hit me that she may have some kind of tracker tracking her Twitter visitors. That may be how she made the Krista account, even though I’m not sure that would be enough of a giveaway. I’m not the only one in this area. She’s got to be doing something. I don’t see how just “being good with people” is enough.

LOL, maybe every month I should set up an account and do something similar to both her and Kim just for shits and giggles. It would be a monthly thing because after I contacted them I would deactivate the account and wouldn’t be able to use the email tied to that account for 30 days. I could use my Yahoo addy.

Anyway, the laundry is done, the groceries are ordered, and we went on a walk earlier. Not much else is going on. We got an hour of rain last night, but no additional leaks.

I went out walking around the circle really late last night and the loud car wasn’t there. Haven’t heard it since I’ve been up either.

Walmart really pisses me off. First, the favorites disappeared and then they added things back to the favorites that we deleted.

The park will be turning the water off on Tuesday from 9 AM to 1 PM. I should be asleep through most of that time.

Tammy shared a few pictures of Mark as the active shooter for the drill they conducted at work, but clearly, the bright green gun was fake. But wouldn’t people react differently if they knew it wasn’t the real thing as opposed to if they knew it was? I’m glad for his sake that it was obviously fake because you never know if someone carrying a concealed weapon may shoot him.

Another person borrowed Beneath the Smile from the KOLL, but they only read two pages. The first borrower is still at 18 pages.

I still wonder if I’ll really ever hear from Kathleen and I often go through the reasons why I think I will and why I think I won’t. Maybe she’ll surprise me like my thyroid numbers, but I highly doubt it. Can’t say for sure if she’s attracted to me or just unusually friendly, but I still say I won’t hear from her either way. I’m okay with whatever happens, though. There are pros and cons to both. Not having to worry if she’s going to screw me over and having to match schedules to do things together would be definite pros to not hearing from her. I’ve also become more private as far as letting others see inside our house. Nothing wrong with being a bit eccentric like I am, but I think a lot of shit in here is just too weird for most people to handle, LOL. I would hide some of it, though, if I knew I was having company. Not because I would be embarrassed but because I wouldn’t want to make others needlessly uncomfortable, just like I would want them to care enough to keep any big dogs they may have away from me if I visited them.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 19, 2017 I have some pretty amazing, shocking, hopeful and even scary news. I got up, did my thing in the bathroom, and was about to take dream notes which were quickly forgotten when I saw I had a message from Dr. A’s nurse. My first thought was, oh no! Already? It hasn’t even been 24 hours since I was at the lab!

I wondered if something could be wrong since I didn’t see how my TSH could still be in the teens unless something went very wrong with the gland itself. I called the nurse and she shocked the hell out of me by telling me my thyroid was better and that my TSH is now only 6.75 which is almost normal! My T4, which has always been normal, is at 1.4. This was quite a surprise but definitely a little scary because my TSH is only three points above when I had the last severe anxious reaction when my old endo tried me on 88’s two years ago. If my T4 hits 2.0 or higher, all hell could very well break loose, even though I’m feeling amazingly calm right now. It gives me hope that if I am through the worst of the perimenopause then I can one day have a normal thyroid without the killer anxiety. It goes to show, though, that while the medication itself has been a problem at times, the peri likely was a huge factor. The doctor and the nurse know, however, that if I feel any anxiety coming on I’m going to make skips. Fortunately, TSHs rise much quicker than they fall, so just a few skips can kick me up to the teens. So as long as I don’t let it get really bad if the anxiety comes on, I should recover within a week instead of a few months.

Dr. O wasn’t kidding when she said there was more going on than just my thyroid and the medication. Other factors like tachycardia, ADD, pocket flares and the perimenopause I didn’t realize I had gone into at the time. Levothyroxine is still a MAJOR stimulant and it’s a long-acting drug so some of us have to be careful.

A part of me wishes I didn’t know what my numbers are now because now I might worry at the slightest hint of anxiety, even if I know now I can just make a few skips to feel better. I just worry about getting anxious in the first place. Again, this isn’t the kind of anxiety one might feel if they’ve got to go to the dentist or something like that. It’s the most god-awful feeling in the world. The nurse said she didn’t think my TSH would drop any lower but I’ll be tested again in December.

I just try to remind myself that numbers are just numbers and it’s how I feel that matters. And also that it’s the same shit my body makes anyway, and I was normal once, after all, and even below normal when I had Graves’ disease. I just didn’t have the peri going on at the time and I was a lot younger, so I’m still a bit nervous about it. Especially after that nightmare, I had a couple of nights ago.

I was so excited, happy and amazed that despite the part of me that’s a bit worried, I balled my eyes out when I hung up from the nurse. All I could think was OMG, after three years of hell my thyroid is almost normal with NO anxiety. Yay!

So excited was I that I decided to call Tammy and give her the good news. While she was no doubt thrilled for me, I could tell something was wrong. I could hear it in her voice. I’ll get to that in a minute but first, I asked her if she thinks I’ll get any more periods, and she said I might get a few more spotty ones. Well, I’m definitely not going to get my hopes up too high and assume I’ll never get another period and that I’ll never be anxious again. I may have broken my period record, but not my anxiety record yet. I’ve only been able to go 4-5 months without anxiety. It hasn’t even been a month yet since I had to make my last skip on September 21, though it has been since July 5 since I ran for the Lorazepam. I have to make it to next spring without anxiety before I can really start to see the first ray of light.

There’s a 75% chance that it’s going to rain tonight, so hopefully, the roof won’t leak. Tammy said she heard it’s going to be a dry winter for us and Tom said he heard the whole country is to have a mild winter. I sure hope so!

So Tammy and I talked, even with Alexa thinking I was telling her to blast some rock music for the occasion. I had to jump up and shut her up, LOL.

Tammy describes her life as a “living hell.” I keep hoping that things will get better for her, but her surgery was a bust and they’re now totally sure she has Sjogren’s. So that makes three autoimmune diseases that are all a hell of a lot worse than Hashimoto’s and harder to treat. When I asked her how she lost weight it wasn’t any special diet she went on but that she simply doesn’t want to eat. In fact, she has eaten so little that she almost went into her second diabetic coma. The only good thing she had to report was that her heart is holding steady. So that much is good.

Becky has had tremendous pain in her jaw and arm, and they were both furious, understandably, because the surgeon didn’t suck out her lungs properly and she ended up with bleeding and severe breathing problems. I guess she’s going to be going on partial disability or something like that because she��s not going to be able to return to work as soon as expected. Sarah, on the other hand, is working like crazy to help make ends meet. I was so glad to hear that Tammy would move Becky in with her if worse came to worse. Our mother would NEVER have done that for us if we were in the same situation and of course, Dad would have gone right along with her decision.

Tom and I will still likely leave California someday to live in Florida. I won’t be able to help out all the time because of my CRD, but I’ll certainly do my best with things like cleaning since I don’t drive and I’m not much of a cook. It’s a lot cheaper there, and I can see where condos like what our parents had would be much quieter being on slab foundations with cement walls built to hurricane standards, whereas the elevated duplex we once lived in with elevated floors and wood walls meant you heard and felt the neighbors easily. We would still likely get a manufactured home similar to this, though, not a condo.

I’ll miss the neighbors and it’ll be a pain to get established with new doctors, but I can do that and meet new neighbors. The only thing that may be hard to give up would be Kathleen depending on what happens there, which I still think will be nothing.

When she told me Mark was going to be the shooter at the nursing home he works at, I was like, WTF? They’re going to be doing a drill on how to handle things if there were ever an active shooter. Only the local bacon department as well as the top staff know what’s going to be happening. That ought to be interesting but I would think that might be a bit traumatizing for some people as well.

There’s more I could say but I’m pretty tired tonight. I didn’t sleep much better the last time around. Hopefully, I’ll get my energy back soon because I’m missing too many days of working out. I’ll go force myself to do some Bowflexing now after sending a group “hug” to Tammy and the girls.

First, I don’t remember the dreams I had last night but I remembered a dream I had a few nights ago. In fact, I’m thinking of creating another PB account (anonymously) to share dreams as if they’re real-life events, LOL. Especially since I now have a tracker I can hide. If I share more stories, however, people will know who I am. I can’t do that anyway if I plan to publish most of them.

The dream took place at Valleyhead again. What is it with all the VH dreams lately? The only difference was that instead of a mansion we were in cabins. We were the ages we are now, though, and not young again. There were four of us per cabin. We slept in pairs on two double beds. I slept on the bed on the right on the inside by the nightstand. Not sure who my cabinmates were or why I was even there. When I spotted Tom out the window who had come to pick me up one morning, I scrambled to get dressed. Then I realized my paper journal was missing. I quickly went to look for it and then realized I had no pants on and wasn’t fully dressed after all.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 18, 2017 The house across from Jon & Carolyn and diagonally in back of us is now on the market. Really hoping we luck out a third time like we did with Jon & Carolyn and Trisha. Please, no loud vehicles or company junkies!

We both got blood drawn this afternoon. Guessing my TSH is 10-11 based on how calm I feel. As long as I continue to feel well, I don’t give a shit what the numbers say.

I stupidly forgot my glasses. I’m farsighted and in natural daylight, I don’t see that bad looking off into the distance, but it was a bit of a struggle to sign forms. Tom did my check-in for me on the computer.

I hope I sleep a little better tonight. I’ve been sleeping well overall but not the last couple of nights. I realize the night before last was only because I was stressed over my crown falling out. The second time was because I had a nasty dream for one prone to dream premonitions.

In the dream, we kept breaking into this house and stealing food. We would do it in the evening when the homeowner wasn’t home. I guess they worked late or something. Not sure why we were stealing food since we didn’t seem to be struggling, but one time we went to steal something when we saw the place was all lit up. We decided to take a chance since the person who lived there was on the second floor. Once inside I grabbed a bag of hot dog buns and decided we should leave it at that and get out.

The passenger door of our car was closer to the house and I dove into the car quickly. Tom was walking down their sidewalk when I saw a guy pass by one of the downstairs windows. I told Tom to hurry up and just as he broke into a jog and was about to reach the car, the car began to back up out of the driveway. I reached a foot over to slam on the brakes but nothing I stepped down on would stop the car. The car, as if driven by an invisible person, turned into the street and began racing down it backward.

I woke up before it either stopped or crashed, glad that Tom never was able to get into the car. Those are classic crash-and-burn dreams. If you’ve had dream premonitions before then you would probably agree that you’d be one of the last people you’d want having these types of dreams. They’re a sure sign of trouble ahead, even though I don’t have any bad vibes or that nagging feeling we sometimes get when something’s amiss. What could I be about to “crash” into soon, though? Another round of anxiety? That’s usually what the problem is these last few years and it shouldn’t be long before my TSH does fall to uncomfortable levels and I’m going to have to start making skips.

I was telling Tom the other day that when I think back on everything I’ve gone through that was either a crisis or at least a hardship of some kind, each one gets worse. First it was wanting people/things I could never have. Then it was the freeloaders/jail. Then it was poverty. Then it was the killer anxiety that affected both my mind and body. The next thing has got to kill me for damn sure because I honestly don’t think there’s anything worse than the physical and psychological torture I experienced over the last few years. I don’t think whatever’s coming up will be that bad, though. I usually get a year or two between problems, especially the more serious and long-term ones.

I still don’t like my track record at all. The only one I had a negative dream about that turned out okay was with the vigilante girl, but her dream was a little different. In the dream, she simply told me she “had a problem.” I didn’t actually see her in a bad situation, but maybe she is now. I haven’t heard from her in a while.

Tom tried to console me by saying that nothing bad actually happened in the dream.

“But nothing bad actually happened in the riot dream or the white-out dream either.”

“But a riot is a known bad thing,” he said.

Yeah, so is a runaway car flying backward with no working brakes, and what about the 30-foot shower stall dream? I woke up before we hit the ground.

I never saw anything bad in the dreams I had pertaining to myself and several others that had bad things end up happening to them in real life; just bad things that were about to happen right before I woke up.

I still say there’s a damn good chance something unpleasant is headed my way. Whenever I’d tell almost everyone that something bad was going to happen, it did. When I say something very bad is going to happen to Tammy when she’s 62, it is. Just like when I warned Jimmy about a potential car accident, the old lady in Texas about health issues, and several others along the way. So yeah, I’ve likely got trouble ahead. Trouble I won’t be able to prevent and that I won’t see coming until it’s upon me. That’s what’s frustrating about the dream premonitions… Nothing I can do about them but have extra time to worry. I’m still going to try my best by being extra careful. I’ll check twice when crossing streets and that sort of thing.

I’m just glad Tom didn’t get a chance to get into that car, which makes me think that whatever’s coming is on me. Better me than him as most of us would say when it comes to those we love. That again, he wasn’t in the riot dream at all yet the event that happened following that nightmare definitely affected us both, so we’ll see. With me, some dream premonitions are long-term as is the case with Tammy but most are not. So I’ve probably got about 72 hours to find out what shit is about to hit my fan.

I’m too tired to work out today. I’ve been lazy for about a week now when it comes to working out. I wish I could be obsessed with working out and dieting to the point that I never miss a day, but maybe someday I’ll get sick enough of the extra weight to really do something about it and just put up with the hunger that intense dieting brings. That’s what it would take in my case. Right now I’m not worried about my weight enough to be motivated to diet religiously. I’m more concerned with stepping up the exercise to help lower my LDL score because that’s what they’re going to be testing for next in December.

Still having some sensitivity in my mouth but I’m not sure if it’s the mouthguard, the recent dental work or something else. I even woke up with a splitting headache but then I went back to sleep and it was gone when I got up the next time. I think I’ll be okay within a week and won’t have to go back until my next scheduled appointment in March.

I am a little bummed to know I’ll never really hear from Kathleen but this is far from the first time I’ll end up not hearing from someone I’d like to hear from. As I once told Stacey, things that were never meant to be don’t suddenly become meant to be in one’s 50s. The more I think about it the more I realize that yes, she’s just an incredibly friendly person that fools you into thinking you’re important and special (even someone on Yelp mentioned her making them feel like she was important) because she’s just so damn friendly, something I’m not used to because I’m so antisocial. Even if she was attracted to me or wanted to be my friend, I would have heard from her by now if she was that serious. Small talk is just small talk, and people agree to get together all the time but don’t really mean it.

So my first guess is that I’ll never hear from her. My second guess is that if by some miracle I’m surprised by hearing from her, it would probably be sometime in January. That way it’s been a while, the holiday madness is over, and it’s sort of in the middle of appointments.

But hey, look on the bright side to there being a 90something percent chance I’ll never hear from her… No having to worry about my schedule for getting together, no having to worry about her possibly screwing me over, no having to be embarrassed about her coming in here and seeing all my weird shit either.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2017 At 1 AM last night, I was flossing my teeth with those floss sticks that help you reach in back when one of them got hung up between teeth. I tried to wiggle it this way and that to dislodge it but it was stuck big time. When it finally let go it was determined to take my new upper crown with it. I put it in a baggy so I wouldn’t lose it.

I woke him up in a panic, and when I say a panic I don’t mean anything like when my meds and or the peri was tormenting me. He was calm, supportive and empathetic as usual, and assured me it would be no big deal.

There wasn’t any bleeding and it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. I just had to be careful to avoid hot and cold, or better yet pretty much anything that could come in contact with the area. I even had to be careful how I breathed. Moving air rushing against it can also hurt, so I was careful not to suck in air in a way that would cause it to flow around the tooth.

I wasn’t worried about not being able to get in right away to have it re-cemented, I was worried about my schedule. I knew I wouldn’t be crashing anytime soon and I didn’t until around 4 AM. I awoke four hours later and lay there awake for about a half-hour or maybe a little more, and then I fell back asleep until noon.

He called them as soon as they opened and they had free time in the morning and the afternoon. Due to both our schedules, we had to go with the 4:30 appointment.

We were supposed to be at the lab at 4 o’clock but had to cancel. We rescheduled for the same time tomorrow but never received an email confirmation, so hopefully we won’t have to wait when we go tomorrow.

I’ve been hot-flashing but calm. I highly doubt my TSH is in the single digits and personally I don’t care as long as I feel good.

At 3 o’clock we took off for Walmart to pick out new glasses. I upgraded the lenses but downgraded the frames. I wanted frames that needed no separate nose pads but none of those appealed to me, so I ended up with a metallic pink wireframe that was only $9. These will also be transition/progressives but with a wider band so that the edges aren’t so blurry. Both our glasses together cost over $300. The designer frameless glasses I got the last time cost over $400 alone.

I forgot to mention that the eye doctor said my corneas are a bit thick. I guess that’s common with OH and those that could go glaucoma.

So I still have two more appointments to deal with, the lab and then to pick up the glasses. Had Ricardo, who looked too young to be the licensed optometrist his name tag said he was, taken just five more minutes I would have been late for the dentist. I’m sure she would have waited, though.

Definitely had mixed emotions about seeing tall, willowy blonde Kathleen, LOL. She said, “Hi Jodi,” when we came in, and I told her what happened. She said she’s lost crowns before, too.

She looked fabulous today. I don’t remember what she was wearing. She stayed behind the desk the whole time and I really didn’t pay attention, but I did notice her beautiful necklace and how nice her longish, straight blond hair looked. Most noticeable was her bright blue eyes. She just needs to gain weight.

Kristi came and got me and asked where my bedazzled fashions were. Well, at least I had a bedazzling bracelet, and both she and the doctor loved my rat shirt.

The doctor was not only so nice but funny when she first came in after Kristi cleaned the crown. I told her I was never going to floss again in my life, haha, and she goes, “It’s nice to know you’ve been flossing.”

She’s such a sweetheart and I really appreciate her getting me in so fast. It will be a sad day when she retires. It only took five minutes. She asked if I wanted to get numb and I decided I would tough it out. She said I would only feel discomfort for a few seconds as that was a major tooth but by the time I decided I may want to get numb, it would be over. This was true. After the area was prepped and dried, I kind of moaned as she was reseating the thing, and she said, “I know, I know,” with much empathy. Not only was she hitting nerves, but she had to put a lot of pressure on it to make sure it was pressed in tightly. Then they cured the hell out of it to make sure it would stay put for a good long time.

So it’s nice to have my tooth back and to know I can count on her to glue me back together when I come unglued. :-) I just dread the day one of my full crowns lets go, especially the bridge because that would be two stumps exposed. To make crowns they grind your teeth down to little stubs.

I told her about the soreness I’ve been having and that I had decided to give it a week to see if it improved before the crown popped out. What’s weird is that I still have some sensitivity on the bottom front center where no work has been done. I wonder if it’s just soreness from all the work that has been done on me since nerves run all along that area, or if it could be the mouthguard. My TMJ has been much better, but I might have to get the guard adjusted. I didn’t know those things were adjustable, but since they took molds before I was crowned, it might need some tweaking, she told me. I’ll give it some time, though. She’s a sweetie and I adore Kathleen, but I would really rather not return until my March checkup.

I had a dream that I was at the dentist’s house for some kind of experiment on anxiety. I know I had other unrelated dreams, but I was too tired to take notes so I don’t remember them.

I saw the rest of the crew briefly except for Holly. The doctor said to Kathleen as I was leaving, “Isn’t her shirt so cute?” Then she went back to see other patients.

This was when I complimented Kathleen on her lovely appearance and she said something about it being nice to see me. I then said, “Well, hopefully I won’t have to see you for a long time… At least not here.”

In response to that, she said something like, “Oh, yeah,” or “Right, yeah.”

Then I went out into the waiting room. By then Tom was the only one there. When we arrived there were a few others. I told him I toughed it out without going numb, and Kathleen said something about me being brave and for Tom to treat me to dinner. I was definitely hungry too, because I had been afraid to eat. We got burgers and fries to the sound of blasting country music. So annoying, just like California’s slow drivers. The food was good, though. A little salty on the fries, but still good even if I couldn’t finish my burger or the fries. I was still a bit sore.

The KFC we went to the other day was surprising because there was no music at all playing.

Anyway, I’m not stupid. I know Kathleen’s not going to Facebook me. If she was interested she would have done so by now. You know the rules for me… No connecting with anyone really nice, really good looking or both. But yeah, I don’t see why she wouldn’t have Facebooked me and maybe even bought my books if she was that interested in being friends with me.

I started to think, watch. She’ll call to see how I’m doing in the morning while I’m sound asleep. But nah. I don’t think she will. So I’ll see her again in March as long as there are no other blowouts along the way.

Was losing the crown my punishment for befriending Kim under false pretenses? No worries if it was because the game’s already over. Yeah, Aly made me… again. That’s no doubt what she wanted to talk to Kim about.

I don’t get it, though. I just don’t get it. I went over and over the appearance of my account as well as what I tweeted and I just don’t see how she could have made me. She’s got to have hacked in somehow without Twitter notifying me that an unrecognized browser logged into that account. Then she would have had to figure out that the email associated with that account belonged to me. How she managed to do all this is beyond me but she had to have. There’s no other way. No one’s that good with people unless they’re unbelievably psychic.

So she and Kim both blocked me and she tweeted that she won’t be fooled again, and also: There are fascination and curiosity and then there’s obsession. If you can’t tell the difference between the two then it’s already too late.

Too late for what?

MONDAY, OCTOBER 16, 2017 We both went for eye exams today. This is the third time we saw the same doctor, Kristi G. She has the same fat black but pleasant assistant, too.

Tom still has a faint trace of a cataract growing and my OH is borderline. She did an extra field vision test on me and I haven’t lost any vision on the edges, so I don’t officially have glaucoma. She thinks it’s likely that my OH will remain the same all my life but we’ll keep a watch on it every year.

There wasn’t much change in my vision but I’m still going to get new glasses because every two years our insurance pays for new frames and I like variety. I’m going to go with the same thing… transition progressive lenses. Instead of going with designer frameless frames, I’ll probably get more colorful frames with no nose pads. We’ll pick them up tomorrow after we go to the lab.

After the eye doctor, we went to KFC. I got chicken and he got a chili dog. As soon as I sipped my cold raspberry tea I got a killer toothache that needed ibuprofen. It was a very strong and steady pain. The thing is that it wasn’t even where she was working, and sometimes the pain seemed to move. I thought it felt like it did start on the upper tooth she worked on, then moved to the lower back tooth she also worked on, and then finally settled in the front where she didn’t work at all. I don’t get why I still have this. Last night I woke up to pee and the pain was so bad in this area that I had to take ibuprofen. It seems that the longest I suffered after having dental work done was two weeks. Tomorrow will make one week, so if I’m not better by the 24th, I’ll call Kathleen, even though I would rather not see her until March if I’m not surprised by hearing from her before then.

I was really disappointed to see that not only do my books not have any reviews but Beneath the Smile hasn’t sold any copies yet. But then I noticed someone started a copy through KU and KOLL which I enrolled in. With this, your royalties are based on how many pages of the book the person reads. So far they’ve read 18 pages. It’s kind of cool to see their reading progress along the way.

Still not sure if I’m going to submit anything else for publication until after NaNo at the end of the year.

You know how random thoughts of the past sometimes pop into mind? Sometimes it’s something negative, sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it just is. I was telling someone how the poorest of the poor in the US still live in luxury compared to those in third-world countries. Then I added, “And M Dorm really was the Princess Dorm,” as those in Estrella Jail called its dorm for “seggies.” It was fairly new at the time and devoid of writing on the cell walls.

In the midst of cold showers, horrible food, nightmarish mattresses, no sleep, some inmates wanting to get down my pants (including a few guards), a few hotties in uniform, and a lot of homesickness, came the writing on the ceiling. LOL, my favorite cell, if you could call it that for someone who had no choice but to be there at the time, was on the end of the upper tier in the Princess Dorm. One time I was on the top bunk and if you sat upright you could reach the ceiling, even with arms as short as mine.

Not even jail derailed me from my journal. I would order notepads through the commissary, write a few pages at a time, and send them home to Tom. I later typed them up once I was released. Because I had to do everything longhand, my thoughts would sometimes be a lot faster than my hand in which case I took notes on the ceiling just above my head, haha. Laughing, I said to Tom the other day, “I wonder if they’re still there.” I doubt it, though. After 18 years I would think that it would get to be such an eyesore even for the guards that they would have been repainted by now.

During one of the times they shuffled us around, I was in another cell before I returned to that cell, only this time I was on the bottom bunk. I got a kick out of phony Mary above me reading them and trying to make sense of what they could possibly mean before I finally spilled the beans and told her I was the one who wrote them.

Kim and I have become “friends” and I have mixed emotions about that. I suppose karma is going to get me for it sooner or later (unless I’m Kim’s karma), and that I’m just as bad as she is by pretending to be someone else; this Krista S, while she lets me believe she’s this gorgeous guy. The question is what to do about it. Should I keep going as is? Ghost her? Tell her who I am?

And just why am I doing this? Oh, I guess just because I can. I’m curious to see how long I can keep it going, and maybe I hope to get a little information too, at some point. I’m curious to see what I can find out about myself, be it bullshit or not. It’s too soon, though, to be bringing up people we’ve dealt with online and subjects that may get her talking about me. Maybe Krista can eventually tell Kim that Jodi’s asking about her, LOL.

Her younger sister Tracy died last month unexpectedly at age 34. I don’t know why, though. All I know is that she was just as fucked up as Kim. Aly said the whole family was except for her older sister Carol. The karate instructor who dumped her husband for a woman.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 15, 2017 My fourth book has been released on Amazon! The book is heavy with sexual content. Before she dumped me, Aly inspired the BDSM theme in it, so it is rather explicit in some ways.

When Tom read it he surprised me by telling me he thought it was one of my best stories but at the same time, it was hard to read because of Tesla’s suffering. As a suspense writer, I definitely gotta pump up the drama. He said he found it to be a more complex plot than I usually do. I’m surprised because I really didn’t think he would like this one. I wasn’t so sure myself that I even hesitated to publish it at first. But then I realized that what’s good and what’s not is a subjective thing.

For a split second - just a split second - I almost wished my parents were here to share this with. You know, the mother that threw me into the state’s hands because I was too weird and too hyper and then told people I attacked her with a knife to cover her actions? The weapon changed along the way, of course. Sometimes it was a knife, other times it was a hammer. Believe me, had I attacked her I would admit it right here, right now because there’s no way anyone could use it against me at this point. Any destructiveness I did engage in was against myself.

Sadly, my mother got sick of having children around the same as a four-year-old might get sick of their old doll. But in the ‘50s and ‘60s, you had kids whether you wanted them or not. It was much easier for her to tell this bullshit story to people rather than have to listen to them say, “What! How could you give up on your own daughter and give her up to the state just because the professionals said she had problems, which by the way, you’re the root cause of?” In her mind, this was a great way to justify making the house kid-free, since the others were already on their own.

Even if they were still alive, though, my father would be happy for me but my mother likely wouldn’t care, if she wasn’t jealous. Unless it was something she was into herself or was able to do as well, she usually wasn’t interested. Now, if I sold decorative flags, then she would be plenty interested because she did the same thing and that way there would be no “competition” being something she could personally relate to. It truly seemed that other than with my ASL, having a daughter who knew more things than she did was nothing to be proud of. No, it was something to be embarrassed by and jealous of.

Anyway, onto more pleasant subjects that don’t include toxic people, dead or alive. I used a random city name picker to select locations in the stories I’m doing for NaNo, and the damn thing landed smack dab on Sacramento. Tom was laughing his ass off over that one. I’ve done enough on the home front, though. Stepping into Psycho will be in Columbus, Ohio, and Roomies will be in Raleigh, North Carolina.

Brown-black hair on me is better than gray, but I still think this is a bit dark for me and a little witchy-looking. I don’t want to go back to traditional dyes so we researched other forms of hair coloring, and I think I might eventually try this henna-based solution so I can have light-medium brown. It’s a pain in the ass to use but doesn’t have any ammonia or peroxide in it, so it shouldn’t damage the hair.

There are some houses for sale here that are going for 164K. I went to a site that tells you the current value of your home and was told this place is worth a little over 100K. I don’t think so, though.

What I don’t get is… how blind can the park manager be? The kid in the loud car is back to zooming in and out several times a day, and I swear I saw their mutt running loose down the end of the street. How can they not know what’s going on with these people? I honestly can’t believe no one else has complained. Makes me think they’re affiliated with the park somehow and that they might work here.

Couldn’t get into Mindbender, so I’m just watching movies now on Netflix.

The weather has been in the low 80s. We went to Vintage & More where people sell things they no longer want or that they’ve made. There are so many things to look at in that store. Tons of dolls, knickknacks, jewelry and more. Despite the many goodies there I only walked out with a dazzling 4-dollar “diamond” bracelet. It’s so bright and flashy that it almost makes my rapidly aging skin that’s bedecked with age spots and wrinkles seem darker than it is.

“Krista S.” set up a bogus Twitter account last night and befriended Kim. Didn’t take long at all. Sure enough, she didn’t correct me and say it wasn’t her when I said she was such a handsome guy. rolls eyes I don’t know who that is in her profile picture but it’s definitely not her.

Kim followed me back and then I started following Aly but I haven’t tweeted, hearted or RT’d any of her tweets yet.

I noticed she tweeted to Kim that she really needs to talk to her about something important. My first thought was that she somehow knows I’m Krista, but if she did, couldn’t she have just sent her a DM? Well, I’ll find out soon. If Aly suspects me she’ll tell Kim who will block me.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14, 2017 Tired of the poor-quality Lifetime movies on YouTube that I’ve been watching, I’m now giving Mindhunter a try on Netflix.

Chatted with Mr. Twenties yesterday who is painting their house silver with burgundy trim. When Tom and I were walking earlier we chatted with both of them for a minute when they were driving by the lake.

Saw Mr. Twenties again later on when we were trimming the African daisies in the front. The weather is gorgeous now. The only thing spoiling it is the plane game going on in the sky.

They’re doing a variety show which they’re going to be participating in. 25 years ago I would’ve jumped at the opportunity to join in, but since my interests shifted from singing and dancing to writing and languages I wouldn’t feel comfortable performing nowadays. It’s just not as fun as it used to be, even though my voice has improved with age and lack of smoking.

Today I’m not as confident that I’ll hear from Kathleen on Facebook as I was the last few days. I guess when you’ve recently seen someone you see things differently, but I agree with Tom in that I’m unlikely to ever hear from her. Even if she was attracted to me and even if there were no ethnic issues in her mind, I have my doubts simply because most people don’t follow through with what they say they’re going to do.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2017 LOL, the rats were out loose and I had to make sure they didn’t charge the door when I was going to get the mail, even though these rats aren’t as curious about the outdoors as others have been. Even so, Bob was getting the trash bins of the guy who had a stroke and Virginia was getting their own when I told her that the rats might want to follow me to get the mail. She makes a face and goes, “Ugh, keep ‘em over there.”

LMAO!

I had a dream last night that Tom and I were walking somewhere. I was ahead of him. When I turned back I saw some young guy bump into him and I had a bad feeling about it. That was when Tom checked his pockets and realized the guy had swiped his wallet. I ran off in pursuit of him and was led into this doorless brightly lit room with a discarded purse on the floor that I assumed had been stolen.

“I’m going to beat the shit out of him!” I shouted.

“No you’re not,” Tom said as I realized the guy had disappeared into thin air.

Then Tom began doing something on a computer that sat on a table nearby.

Anyway, I could whine and say why couldn’t I have attracted Stacey and Kathleen before I was married, but I wouldn’t have wanted them then. I was a lot pickier as far as what I was attracted to in those days. It still would have been nice to have them until I met Tom.

Still a little sore when I eat but getting better. When Tom saw Deep at work yesterday she said she was sore, too. She needs six cavities and I guess something isn’t right with her jaw either. I’m lucky in that my jaw and bone structure have always been good. It’s the enamel that I got shortchanged on. Deep’s husband is also going to need a lot of work so the good doc ought to appreciate all the business we’re sending her way.

In Indian culture, they live with their relatives. The parents always go to live the rest of their lives with their oldest male child when he marries. I guess part of that is why Deep and her husband really spoil their two-year-old son, from what I hear. As in your modern-day parents who basically don’t believe in teaching manners and discipline, LOL. Good God, though, 5 people in one apartment? No matter how much I didn’t like being alone I think that might be overkill for almost anyone.

Tom says they’re going through and cleaning out their place because they have a lot of junk accumulated, and asked if I would want any of her scented stuff, which I always love, like lotions and perfumes. Sure, why not?

When I said maybe we could meet sometime, he laughed and assured me that we wouldn’t like each other. She’s religious which I don’t like, and I talk too much which she doesn’t like. I would definitely rather get together with Kathleen! She doesn’t shut up either but at least we have more common ground.

The way she said, “We’ll talk soon” at the end of her message to me gave me a slight spark of hope. I know that’s a figure of speech that many people end conversations and messages with but it was more in the way she said it. Besides, it just doesn’t seem like something you would close with to someone who isn’t returning to the office they work in until spring.

I think I might take a break from editing past stories until after November NaNo. That way I won’t feel rushed. I’m going to have enough pressure on me trying to write 1600 words a day to win NaNo. I don’t think I’ll win, though, not because I can’t write that much in a day but because I just don’t think I have enough ideas for the two stories I’ll be working on. Below is the synopsis for both of them, but only the first one’s info will be filled out on NaNo.

Synopsis for Stepping into Psycho:

You’re young, beautiful, and you have your whole life ahead of you. But then a tragic accident leaves you in a coma. Nearly three decades later you awaken to a whole new world. Many of the people you knew have died or moved on. You feel alone in a now-foreign world.

Only you’re not alone. Nurse Flora is with you. This sweet, frail, seemingly harmless nurse is determined to help bring you back to life.

And she’ll happily do it at anyone’s expense.

Synopsis for Roomies:

Two lesbian couples living together is fine. But what happens when one of them feels she’s with the wrong partner and the partner of the person she wants is in the way?

Felicia and Lillian are a couple. So are Sherry and Sage. Sherry has always desired Felicia. Sage eventually leaves Sherry. In Sherry’s mind, this puts her one step closer to Felicia. Now all she has to do is figure out how to eliminate Lillian.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 12, 2017 A fun weekend ahead with Tom, chatting with Kathleen to look forward to, a record time without periods, a little weight loss, a lot of calmness… Trying not to think that things are a little too good to be true lately. I’m in the same situation I was in last year, only this time it involves Kathleen and not Stacey. I’m trying not to have the attitude that while bad things do eventually get better, good things also have a way of blowing up in our faces sooner or later.

The wildfires rage on in Cali and while it’s been a very devastating, sad and scary situation, we’re safe so far. They’re about 40 miles away from us. It was nice of people like Marie to care enough to ask. Of course, I haven’t gotten anything from my family.

Bob is working on something and has the garage door shut. I appreciate him having the door shut to muffle the sound even if that may not be why it’s shut.

Suddenly not feeling so calm anymore. Could it be that I’m not used to things going so well? My medication? Or is my paranoia radar turned on due to the silent message I got from someone in Maliheh’s town of Fayetteville? It wasn’t totally silent, though. During the 4-second message, it almost sounded like birds chirping as if the person was outdoors or something. After what they did to me in Phoenix I’m going to be paranoid for life! It’s just strange that I would get a call from there, even if it was likely a wrong number, after I get another spam/scam message from her Yahoo account. She’s so vindictive and the type that would no doubt do anything she could to set me up, but after all this time of ghosting me I would think she has better things to do. I sure hope so anyway. I don’t see how the police could get this number without hacking any of my accounts, and if they had they would have left a message just like they would have back in 2012. I ran the number and it goes to a Debra H. She doesn’t seem to be affiliated with the law in any way. I’m not gonna sweat it, though. All I did was tell Maliheh at her Gmail email account to take the responsibility of getting the damn account shut down because I want absolutely nothing to do with her.

When I was getting my green glow-in-the-dark nail polish from Joe yesterday, he was telling me that things were terrible the day before because he had so many packages to deliver. I told him I was in the dentist’s chair for 3.5 hours that day, LOL.

I was watching a video about a little girl who dressed up all pretty and left alone on the street at which time many people approached her with concern. Then they dressed her in filthy clothes and when she went back outside she was ignored. They did the same thing in a restaurant. When she was dressed up nice people gave her the money she begged for, but when she looked all bummy, she didn’t get shit.

It’s sad but true that looks still matter greatly in society and I won’t deny the fact that I’m 100% guilty of using my appearance to get ahead in life. I was never a beauty queen but if I hadn’t had the looks to be hired as an exotic dancer back in the 90s, I never would have ended up living where I lived which happened to be next to my future husband.

Same thing applies to today. I’m still no beauty queen and I’m actually a little bit heavy now, but I’m still just as flattered - maybe even more so because I’m aging - when a man or woman notices/compliments me. And yes, I’m still guilty of dressing to impress my husband along with an occasional lady like Kathleen, haha. If I don’t see her before my next appointment, though, I’m going to really throw her for a loop and surprise her with a little rattitude. Yeah, as in my rat shirt. :-) I’ll probably still have makeup on, though. If it weren’t for having to lie back in the dentist’s chair, I’d really surprise her with the hairpiece (long curls attached to a claw clip). But that wouldn’t be very comfortable for the dentist.

While it may not be fair that many people are overlooked in many different ways simply because they don’t meet society’s beauty standards, I still say if you’ve got something, use it. As long as no one’s being hurt along the way, I don’t see any harm in using one’s look to get what they want any more than using one’s skills or anything else. So however conceited some people may find it to be, I don’t mind going out of my way at times to give certain people a little something to look at. I don’t have to be gorgeous, but I don’t mind being a little less of an eyesore than I might be if I were less fortunate. Part of it does come from regular exercise, of course. As a short, aging Hashi, I would probably be a giant if I didn’t keep active.

Now here’s something I don’t get. This isn’t meant to judge or condemn any of those God-believers out there, but I don’t get the free will versus God’s plan thing. People say they have free will in one breath and that God has a plan for them in another. But isn’t that a bit contradicting? What’s the point of granting people free will if you’re just going to plan their lives for them? Am I missing something here?

For once I had interesting dreams. In the first one, I went to see a GYN who worked out of her house. She had several guests over at the time and some were playing pool. I kept wondering when she was finally going to bring me to wherever she examined patients, and when I finally asked her, she said, “You’re putting me in a strange situation,” or something like that, and I knew that what she was really saying was that she was too attracted to me to be my doctor.

“We could always be friends, you know,” I said.

“You would be up for that?” she asked, smiling brightly.

I assured her I would be, noting all the smokers in the room and picking up a cigarette and saying something about not smoking anymore.

In another dream, I was living in a Valleyhead-like place, but the place was a lot nicer. It was both cozier and homier and there was a lot more freedom there. I seemed to get along well with the girls, well, women and was getting a ride back to the house with one of my “sisters.”

“So if I went to someone’s house and then back to the house again I wouldn’t get in trouble for it? You can do that?” I asked someone, and they said yes.

Then I was at the house and asked someone sitting in the small living room if they would mind my dusting a bit, and they shook their head and said, “M-mm.” So I stepped into the small kitchen off the living room to fetch the dusting wand.

In the last dream, I was having dinner at a long table with several family members. I was at one end of the table. Two or three seats away sat Bill, and we seemed to be coexisting peacefully and I didn’t seem to harbor any hard feelings toward him, something that would never happen in real life. It’s one thing to respect my nieces from a distance. It’s another, if the cock were still alive, to put it in the same room with me. The issue also didn’t seem to be what it really was. I guess the fight had been all about a disagreement over my weight, haha. He said that his only problem back then was that people would claim I was small but he didn’t think so.

Yeah, whatever buddy. If I see you in the afterlife I’m still going to kick your ass for all you caused my husband and I to go through.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 11, 2017 “Hi, cutie,” Kathleen greeted me as I entered my dentist’s office yesterday. Again a part of me thought she was just being friendly while my gut instinct said otherwise. Is anyone really that touchy-feely and full of flattering compliments that are just being friendly? LOL, if I were homophobic then the last few years would really piss me off between her and Stacey. Despite what my gut is telling me, I still seriously doubt I’ll ever hear from her outside of the office. I realize this doesn’t mean she hasn’t at least looked in on me. She likely isn’t going to contact me because she works for me, as Tom pointed out, even if she may not work for me in the way the doctor does. Or maybe she’s put off by my not driving or feels that her attraction is all the more reason to stay away from me because we’re both married. Maybe she feels a friendship wouldn’t be enough for her. But then maybe she’s crazy. As I’ve learned, anyone can be crazy, and sometimes that includes people who are some of the nicest and seemingly harmless people on earth. And yet again maybe she really is just being super nice, even though I’ve never seen her treat other patients the same way, not that I’ve seen her interact with every patient that goes in there.

I was there for 3.5 hours and it was definitely a rough ride. So I’m quite relieved that it’s over even though it ended up costing us $800 instead of $600. The fucking insurance company didn’t pay as much for the mouthguard as we thought. Sometimes I wonder what the point is of having insurance when you still have to pay a fortune anyway. If it’s going to alleviate some of my pain and sensitivity, however, then it’s worth it. Tom is wonderful in that instead of throwing up his hands and saying, “Damn, you’re an expensive wife,” he has no problem making sure I get what I need.

So I said to Kathleen, “Guess what color?” since she always checks out my nails. She guessed purple. Wrong! But she was still amazed by how tiny my glittery red nails were as she took them in her hands to inspect them, saying something about princess nails. She wore the same pale pink nail color she had the last time and the same dull lipstick, a matte shade of terra-cotta. I think she would look better in light pink.

“We’re on the same page there,” she said in regard to my comment on her sparkly lapels (I wore a sparkly top). LOL, other than that she was dressed just as lamely as she was the last time. She’s a sweetheart, but we’re definite opposites in appearance. She wore a white blouse with clear gemstones on the lapels. She had a navy pantsuit on over it which hung from her too-thin frame like it would on a manikin. She’s even skinnier than Stacey. They probably both weigh about 100 pounds but Stacey is 5’ where Kathleen is about 5‘6” or 5‘7”. She’s a very frail woman. Stacey definitely had the better body, and probably the better everything except for the height and eyes. I definitely appreciate Kathleen’s height and I think she has prettier eyes, even though I usually prefer dark eyes to light.

Instead of what I thought would be Shannan coming to get me, she came around and opened the door just like last time and said they had my room ready for me. Then it was show-and-tell time as usual, haha. She put an arm around my left shoulder, took hold of my right hand and held it out to show my dazzling nails and outfit to Holly and Michaela. “Doesn’t she always look so cute?” she said.

Keeping her arm around my shoulder as if I was disabled or something, I gave her a quick hug with the arm that was closest to her and said, “I wish I was as thin as you.” Well, maybe not quite that thin, but her response was, “You’re beautiful,” and then she stopped to show me off to the doctor, even though she was still working on someone.

What was both strange and funny is that her actions sort of mimicked the dream I recently had of her kissing me on my head.

Finally, I was seated in the last room down. It was as freezing as usual and she told me to let her know if I wanted a blanket. I thought I would be okay but when Holly went by I flagged her down.

“Hello, beautiful,” she said and I asked for that blanket. Hell, I could’ve even used my new gloves in that place! I asked Holly why they keep it so cold and she said they get hot while they’re working if they don’t. She and the doctor both laughed when I said, “Where are the hot flashes when you need them?”

The only real disappointment besides all the time and money was learning that Shannan left. All the doctor said was that she wanted to do something else, whatever that is. Shannan is in her 30s, so she has many working years ahead of her. Meanwhile, Tom and I are getting the impression that the new doctor, who I haven’t seen yet, will eventually take over my doctor’s patients. At that time I’ll make a decision whether or not to stay or go somewhere else. If this doctor is suitable enough, then I may stay there because I know the staff well and feel comfortable with them. I’d miss Holly cleaning my teeth and I would certainly miss Kathleen. I worry that she’ll leave too, though she’s a little old to be suddenly wanting to do something else. I think she’s older than I realized. I thought she was around 50, but upon closer inspection of those zipper lips (lines on the edges of her lips) and overall appearance, she could be between 55 and 60. Wrinkles are more common in skinnier people, though. By most people’s standards, she’s very average in appearance but her friendliness gives her an air of attractiveness. She was probably pretty good-looking 20 years ago. She does have nice teeth and eyes. It’s the rest of her that’s just there. She’s too thin and her nose appears half-moon shaped from the side. We were surprised to learn her beautiful teeth are crowns. I wonder if she got them because she needed to or just for appearance.

Again, I don’t expect to hear from her, but I’m surprised she’s still this friendly, and even more so with each visit. I don’t go back until March so this will be a true test as to just how much she wants to connect with me. If she did, then I would think I would hear from her somewhere between now and my next appointment. If I don’t hear from her before then, then I definitely never will. The fact that I haven’t yet makes me wonder if I’ve got her all wrong or if I’m right on but she’s hesitant for the reasons I already mentioned. I should know for sure either way by March. Even Shannan once brought up on her own coming to see my rats, and she also said she’d look me up but she never did. People will say things out of kindness or to put you at ease and make you feel more comfortable around them, but you definitely can’t take them literally. A friendship might still be nice no matter how she likes me.

Anyway, the office isn’t so white anymore because Kristi, the new Shannan, is Hispanic. She’s just sort of there. I liked Shannan better. She made me feel more comfortable and I definitely felt safe with her maybe because she was so big. Becky H once said that no one wants to hug a stick, and I see her point. Hugging Kathleen felt like hugging a stick.

Jessica said hello too, before the doctor came in and had Kristi scan pictures of my teeth for the insurance company. Tom may have a phobia of dentists but he sure would appreciate how high-tech things are there. They have some really cool equipment.

It took about a half-hour for all the drilling, maybe slightly less. It was no fun at all. The doctor used a different type of numbing agent that was also free of epinephrine but did a better job blocking pain. I still needed her to stop a few times to give me additional shots because it is still a short-acting drug. Just not as short as the other stuff.

She had Kristi insert this thing that kept my jaw open when she was working on the upper tooth because I kept zoning out and closing on her, LOL. It’s hard to continually keep your mouth open as wide as possible anyway, trust me. With the bottom one, it wasn’t as important.

They gave me large sunglasses to wear to keep the glare of the light out of my eyes as well as the powdery tooth fragment floating in the air. The smell was bad enough. I hate the sound of that damn drill and I’m so glad it’s over! It’s like metal train wheels screeching along the tracks. I still managed to go through the whole thing without any chill pills.

Once I was all drilled out, Kristi told me I could go ahead and walk around while they were printing my crowns. I went out into the waiting room but by then things were so busy that Kathleen and I didn’t have any time to chat. People were coming and going and when they weren’t, she was either on the phone, talking to the staff, or busy on the computer. This woman left at one point and Kathleen looked at her strangely as they left. In anger? Irritation? Frustration? Her expression was hard to read and I didn’t want to stare her down either.

I did learn that she has a daughter because during one of her phone calls she told someone, “Thanks, but I’m good for now. I had a birthday and my daughter took care of me.”

Kristi, “mesmerized” by my sparkly shirt and Swarovski-like bracelet, came and got me a half-hour later and I thought the crowns would be printed by then, but the doctor had actually been designing them. I forgot that part. Even though this 3-D printer is radically different than Tom’s, you don’t simply print things out just like that. They wanted to do a color comparison first and then they printed them out. It was so cool too, because while I couldn’t see the printer, they started it on the computer that was by the chair I sat in and I could see the progress and time counting down. Each one took about 10 minutes to print, but then I had to wait for it to cool down, so it was quite a long appointment. Like I said, I couldn’t see the printer but I could hear it. It didn’t make the obnoxious alien sound Tom’s does, but it sort of reminded me of an old dot matrix printer, only lower-pitched and less screechy.

So she finally seated the crowns and I was good to go. Kathleen was just getting off the phone as we were heading out the door, so I got to say goodbye to her. She never mentioned contacting me, so neither did I.

I slept with the mouthguard last night with no problem and awoke with no TMJ pain at all. It’s too soon, however, to get a sense of how helpful it will be. At least I know I won’t have to worry about grinding my teeth this way.

My gums and jaw are a bit sore today, understandably, but my bite is right on. At first I worried that the new bottom tooth was too tall. My bite seemed to only hit down on that side, but as Tom said, it was just the residual effects of the numbing agent giving me that feeling.

Since I’ll likely be canceling my shrink appointment, all I should have until I see Dr. A on my birthday is an eye exam next Monday, and then a trip to the lab for both of us on Tuesday. He’s having the standard routine tests done and I’ll have my thyroid tested. I’m certainly under 16 now but there’s no way I could be in the single digits. I’m too calm.

After the dentist, we stopped at Wendy’s and ate with the usual blasting music. I’m so sick of having music forced on me whether it’s stuff I like or not. I’m there to either eat or shop, not listen to music. But we didn’t opt to take it to go, so music is what we got.

I’m even sicker of the never-ending slew of projects around here. The general traffic and landscaping are enough. They were paving streets a few streets down, and loud vehicles and equipment were coming and going by the house the last two days. Now there’s a work truck at B & V’s and I wonder how much racket I’ll be in for there. Please tell me they don’t need to be tented! That was maddening from across the street, so coming from right next to me would definitely mean I wouldn’t be getting any sleep depending on when they did it. All the hammering and sawing would drive me crazy for damn sure. That’s not just a one or two-day job but more like a week or two.

They’re still cleaning out the house across from Jon & Carolyn, too.

OMG, Kathleen just left a message! No joke. Of course, I fucking missed it because I don’t always have the phone nearby. She called to thank me for referring Deep, saying she’s delightful and she can see how we’d be friends. She also wanted to see how I was doing. Also, it was wonderful to see me yesterday, call her if I need anything, and we’ll talk soon.

Will we? I hope so, but either way, I called her back and got sent to VM. I told her she must be psychic because I was just thinking of her (for real) and explained that while I’m glad they like Deep, I don’t actually know her. She’s Tom’s coworker. Out of curiosity, I’ll have to ask Tom what she looks like. I know she’s a lot younger, like around 30.

I just realized I got a text message from them with a link to review them but when I clicked the link it said that it was removed because it violates their TOS. Oh well. I’ve reviewed them on Yelp and Google+ already.

Okay, so to finally wrap up this entry which has taken nearly all day so far thanks to both my ADD and Kathleen distracting me (at least I’m having trouble focusing in a good way for once), I’m totally disappointed though not surprised that the really loud car is back after more than a week of enjoying its absence. They were probably just vacationing somewhere.

What else… yesterday was 15 weeks since my last period and all five pairs of my glasses have been cleaned in our ultrasonic cleaner.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 9, 2017 Not at all looking forward to tomorrow’s dental surgery. I remind myself, as always, that anything is better than chemically induced anxiety, sprinkled with a bunch of wacky hormones. Anything. Damn, do I wish I could stand the anxiety (and I know it’s just a matter of time before it returns) so I could lose just 10 pounds. Just 10 pounds… that’s all I’d settle for at this point. But it’s just too awful of a feeling. It would be like trying to keep your head under water for 20 minutes or so. It’s just not going to happen.

I’m just about to cross the border of my 3.5-month no-period record. I would have to get to November without a period and to April without anxiety to really get any serious hope of being out of the woods as far as that goes.

My pit rash was much better until I shaved. So what am I supposed to do to keep it away for good, walk around with hairy pits for the rest of my life?

I was so full from yesterday’s meal at the IHOP that I didn’t eat for six hours, and when I did, it was just a small snack. I’m amazed that I woke up down 2/10 of a pound. I forgot to mention the gingerbread cocoa I had as well. They had pumpkin spice and gingerbread. I chose the gingerbread, and damn was it good! The mug it came in was huge too, almost like a soup bowl. It was topped with thick creamy whipped cream. One of the good things about not eating out regularly is that it makes it all the more special when we do. We just might return to the same place next time and get the same thing.

I’m not sure if I remembered to mention this or not, but a couple of mornings ago I took a walk over to the other side of the circle. The loud car wasn’t there but the quieter one was. If the house has been sold there are no signs saying that’s the case, so I really don’t know what’s going on. I’m sure that if the car doesn’t return, someone will get a motorcycle to make up for it, knowing my shit luck.

Since I’m going to be at the dentist for so long tomorrow, Tom’s going to read the book I last edited. After that’s published I’ll edit one more this month, then resume editing older stories in December. November will be to focus on NaNoWriMo.

We’re now 20 months away from having options as far as the earliest Tom could retire. It’s unlikely that he will at that time, though, because I don’t think we’d have enough money unless we wanted to live in a dumpy studio apartment back up and Klamath Falls. But it will still be nice to know we’ll have the choice 20 months from now!

After going on so many shopping sprees over the last five years, getting more than I need and just about everything I could ever want and getting that out of my system, I could easily stand to give up some things so he could retire early. If we’d remained broke it would’ve been harder because I would’ve missed out on so many opportunities. But now that I’ve had those opportunities, and now that the physical and emotional suffering I went through has made monetary hardships seem like nothing, I could easily give things up if I had to or wanted to.

But he’s still working and we’re still shopping. So… drain opener is on the way, along with glow-in-the-dark nail polish, an additional sticker for the kitchen, and a hanging crystal.

Looks like Maliheh never did regain control of her Yahoo email account because I just got spammed again and so did several of her contacts. I didn’t click the link because that’s a dangerous thing to do, but I’m sure it was either a virus, a phishing program, or a link to some kind of sex enhancer.

I’m a little surprised she hasn’t been able to contact Yahoo to get the account shut down if not back in her own hands. Just to piss her off, figuring it will get back to her somehow, I replied to her contacts, LOL. But yeah, unless she’s even more vindictive and heartless than I ever gave her credit for and it’s really some kind of an elaborate entrapment scheme, that account has been totally taken over. A few of her contact’s emails bounced. I’m not worried about it either way, but it definitely seems like she’s been hacked as opposed to any kind of game she’s playing.

On to Aly, the proudly owned submissive who just moved into an apartment building with her master and is just so pleased that the other tenants are in her age group. Yeah, Aly has never been into opposites. The more you have in common with her, the more she’ll like you. And of course the crazier you are and the more you’re willing to tell her what she wants to hear helps, too. If she was being truthful about her health conditions, and if I understood everything she told me, then according to my friend Kim, she’s looking at five years or less to live.

Why would she go from dating a woman to moving in with some guy as his sex slave, though, if her days were numbered? Maybe she’s in denial or she’s resolved to live her life as if she’s not dying and make the most of it and get whatever she can out of it before she dies.

I know I shouldn’t feel sorry for her with the way she’s treated me, but what a shitty hand to be dealt in life. First, you get breast cancer when you’re only in your 20s and you need a double mastectomy. Then you get this. I wonder if she would have treated me better had she not had these issues to deal with.

Later…

I saw Bob talking to a couple of guys who were under his house earlier. What kind of project am I in for next, and how much hammering and sawing will there be?

Chatted with Jon on Facebook and was stunned to learn he’s going to be 70 in a few months. Really thought Carolyn was my age and that he was in his late 50s, early 60s at the latest. He teased me by saying I was such a suck-up, but thanks anyway. I’m serious. They’re definitely older than I thought they were. No wonder they’re retired. When Carolyn told me they were retired I thought it was a little weird, but just figured they were doing really well and could afford to retire early. Carolyn thanked me very much for thinking she was my age, LOL.

In reading back on some of my ‘90s journals, I’m amazed at all the stupid things I did. Okay, I was still young, a bit naïve, and I still had some learning and growing up to do. But still… Making up some bullshit story for Marty about him falsely accusing me of prank calls just so I could have an excuse to lay into him and hope to purge the anger I’d harbored toward him for so long was kind of ridiculous. I should have confronted him face-to-face and been totally upfront and honest with him. I tried to in my teens but ended up feeling worse afterward because I lacked the communication skills necessary back then to find the words to express how I felt.

Had I been anything like I am now back then I would’ve kept it simple. Not in my teens but in my 20s. As in something like, “Threaten me again and it will be the last thing you ever do.” Period. As simple as that.

Really, who was God protecting back in the day by having me be so afraid to take a stand for myself? Those who threatened and screwed me over, or me? It’s unlikely the Martys of this world would have threatened me if I was like I am now. They wouldn’t mind seeing me go to jail for kicking their ass but they also wouldn’t want to go to the hospital either. Then again, many people underestimate others and overestimate themselves. Most men don’t think a woman can kick their ass. If there’s an afterlife, however childish and silly it may sound, I’d like to see both my uncles (and a few others) threaten me again. Oh yes, I would have loved to make some people just try to put their actions where their mouths were, but various circumstances prevented me from doing so. I wouldn’t have wanted to do it just because I was angry. It was never just about reflexively lashing out in the heat of an angry moment but also about getting a kick out of the shock I know they would have felt, and maybe sparing myself and others from their shit in the future because I would think they would think twice the next time around. But I was either too weak, too afraid, or there was some kind of hold on me. In Nancy’s case, my hands were really tied because she was the tougher one, and I would have lost my commissary and visitation either way. While others can get away with doing shit to me, I know damn well I would’ve been arrested had I shown any of these people what can happen when you threatened someone. That’s just my shit kind of luck.

I really hope I am never threatened again. I really do. One can only be forced by circumstances to turn the other cheek so many times before they explode. I don’t think I could stop myself from pummeling anyone who threatened me in the future no matter how much I wanted to. Even if it would be a total waste of time and not necessary if they were all talk and no action, I would be so fucking pissed as past memories flashed through my mind and I don’t think I could restrain myself. Let’s just hope I never have to find out. I really want to get along with people.

My God. Speech-to-text really makes it easy to ramble on and on, doesn’t it? What was intended to be just a few sentences is now several paragraphs.

Anyway, another stupid thing was the note to the people on the opposite corner of us in Phoenix with the yipping dog. Was I really that chickenshit that I couldn’t go straight to their door and confront them directly that I had to write up a note and sign it with a bogus name? I guess I was.

Oh, well. No sense in dwelling on these things, I suppose. What’s done is done and the past can never be changed. Only learned from.

I’m back on Dreamwidth. I would still prefer for most of the people I know not to find it, so I’m not sharing links and certain things like that. Another thing I like about it is that I can crosspost entries to LiveJournal.

He’s working a little OT and I’m soon going to unwind with my book. I’m going back to reading with my eyes as opposed to listening because Alexa sometimes has trouble syncing. This way I absorb the plot better and if I didn’t take in the last sentence or so due to being distracted or whatever, it’s easier to look back. I can also read when it’s noisy and when I’m having trouble sleeping but don’t want to get up and do anything.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2017 Love the new soap dispensers for the bathroom sinks, but had to dilute the one for lotion with water. The lotion alone is too thick for the pump.

Maybe I’ll go in for NaNoWriMo after all and do two stories, each with 25K words. So… soon to be prepping Roomies along with Stepping into Psycho. While I should have no problem finishing the stories, I don’t know that I’ll win the hard count of 50K words that November NaNo has because I’m pretty busy these days and that many words is a huge challenge. I don’t think most people realize just how huge of a goal that really is. I should easily make it 25K-30K, though.

I’m too lazy to get into the ideas I have for the plots now, but that could partly be because I don’t feel all that great right now. My stomach literally feels like it’s going to burst that’s how full I am. I don’t think I’ve ever been this full before in my life. If I weren’t so disgusted by puke I’d be tempted to stick my finger down my throat to relieve what feels like a bowling ball expanding in my stomach, haha.

The food was absolutely delicious, though. We went to the IHOP and finished just in time for a baby to be seated nearby. It was quiet at the time but I’m sure it would’ve been a matter of time before its ear-piercing shrilly cries would have ruined the peace, LOL. Not that it was quiet in there either. The usual blasting music. It was actually at a reasonable volume for a full house but not for being nearly deserted. At least the music itself wasn’t that bad. They played 70’s stuff.

Tom got Birthday Cake pancakes which he said was kind of weird, plus bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. I got sirloin tips covered with mushrooms and onions, along with hashbrowns, eggs, and two buttermilk pancakes. I ate everything except for most of the hashbrowns which meant I consumed about 1000 calories in one sitting, something I almost never do.

After we left, we stopped at Raley’s and picked up a few things before heading home to a clogged kitchen sink. We’re working on that one. Meanwhile, Tom finished my bike. He had it on the bike trainer as he was tweaking the gears so they wouldn’t slip as much, and he added air to both bikes. We went for a quick ride and while that was fun, it was much harder on my overly full stomach. Bike riding really is better at night here. Too much traffic and dog walkers, some of which bark their little asses off at us, in the daytime. Also, it’s easier to see cars approaching from behind at night due to the spray of light from the headlights. In the daytime, it’s harder to crank your head and get a good look behind you, especially when the sun is blinding you. I swear, if I could keep a schedule I would definitely be on nights except for when I had appointments.

The problem with bike riding in such hilly terrain is that you have to do it regularly in order to be in shape for it, yet this climate isn’t ideal for that a lot of the time. We talked about getting electric wheels for going uphill, but we both agree that it would be better to invest in Segways or scooters or something like that in this terrain instead of adding to the bikes. We’re not going to bother with a golf cart because of the space it takes up and because those are very expensive. That’s the cost of the new roof we still need. I think Florida would be a better state for bike riding. It’s flat and it would be too humid most of the time for walking and running.

Norma’s husband Milton died, and I assume it’s from cancer, so I’m sad for her. And a bit worried, knowing that long-term couples tend to go within a year of each other. If her days are numbered, at least she won’t be dying young.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2017 Yesterday I opened the front door for fresh air when I saw Bob out there. We started off talking about the weather and I said the mornings were too cold and he said something about not seeing me out walking. I said I usually go out late at night even if it’s colder then.

Then Virginia came toward him with a cell phone that looked 15-20 years old, and then she and I spoke as he talked on the phone. I was telling her about the solar windchime and asked if she noticed it in the evenings. She hasn’t.

She said she loves the weather and could soak it up forever. I agree that while the days are beautiful it’s still too cold at night. She went on to say something about Trump’s first wife’s location of choice to live and vacation in, and I said I wished we could live in Hawaii at this time of year and not come back until May. I mentioned not liking Trump and being surprised and disappointed that he even got elected in the first place, and Virginia said she felt the same and that she’s also liberal.

Bob finished his call and asked if he could “cut the hell” out of a tree on the back corner and I said he never had to ask and that he could cut whatever he wanted and to let us know if he wants us to cut anything. Virginia said she had a suggestion and pointed out this thing that looked like a giant weed toward the front and Bob cut it down in two seconds flat. I said I had room in our green waste if he didn’t have any room in his but he said he had room.

I know we don’t have anything hanging over the retaining wall that’s blocking their path, but I worry we’ve got things that might be making a mess or that they might consider a real eyesore. Perhaps I shouldn’t because it’s our place after all, but they’ve been so nice that I don’t want them inconvenienced in any way or to have to see things that they consider a negative to the outside appearance. Wish I knew exactly what they might like trimmed or removed, but I know if I asked they would simply tell me not to worry about it. When I tell them they can cut anything they want I hope they don’t see that as a lazy excuse not to keep up on things ourselves, but they did say they understood Tom works a lot. They also know I don’t like working with bees and spiders.

Virginia also said she’s “getting old and getting fatter.” Yeah, so am I. But if I were her age (85) I wouldn’t worry about my weight, not that I told her that, LOL. Seriously, though, when I hit my 70s, what would be the point of trying to keep my weight down and myself in shape with a husband who is nearly a decade older than me? I only want to keep from gaining additional weight now so that it doesn’t hinder my mobility.

I asked Jon if he and Carolyn ever hear woodpeckers, and sure enough, all they hear are squirrels running across the roof. We do too, but I don’t mind that. It’s the fucking woodpeckers that I sometimes hear at sunup and sundown that drive me crazy because it literally sounds like someone’s hammering. Most of it comes from the patio roof by the master bedroom. Amazing how we’re the only ones, though, huh? We are just so fucking noise cursed! At least traffic didn’t wake me up last night.

There was a truck with a huge trailer at the abandoned house across from the Twenties. They appeared to have stripped the place. I saw appliances, boxes, and tons of other shit in the trailer.

I hope I don’t jinx myself by saying this but I haven’t heard the young guy in that loud car in about a week. It’s ironic too, that it should disappear right after I make an anonymous complaint. If I had to guess, though, it isn’t because of me. They were here for almost a year and I can’t believe others didn’t complain long before I did. Even if they did, the most likely scenario is that Tom was right about it selling to someone who made an offer outside of the sites the house was listed on when it was on the market. Sometime I’ll walk back there and see what I can see. Or maybe the influencer struck again and the guy ended up totaling the fucking thing. Could be in jail, too. There’s no way to know at this time. I’m still putting my money on Tom’s theory about a private sale.

As much as I wish I could bring myself to stop for good, curiosity still gets the better of me and I sometimes look in on Aly’s tweets. IDK, I guess I also do it just because I can and because I have the time. In one tweet she said: I’m primarily self-employed but w/out birth control, my MDS and anemia issues would be horrendous. It’s not cheap but is so necessary for now

So Aly really wasn’t kidding about the cancerous cells in her blood and about talk of a bone marrow transplant, along with chemotherapy and the blood replacement thing to take out the iron in it or something to that effect. Deep down I didn’t think she was even though she tends to be a drama queen of sorts.

She’s also notorious for riddles and cryptic tweets. In a recent one, she mentions getting some news that will make the weekend stressful and kind of sad. I wonder if that could be health-related.

I did more research and if I read things correctly, she may not even live to be my age. She may not even make it to her 40s, but because she’s younger and that’s only a few years away, I think she will. It says that most people who get MDS are older and that only 6% of the younger population gets it. It’s also rarely cured, and depending on age and seriousness, your survival rate is usually 9 months to 12 years.

So is she actually “dying?” I don’t know, but the prognosis for life expectancy doesn’t look that good unless I’m missing something. Leukocytosis was another word she mentioned, but I’m not sure what the odds are on that. I would still think that most cancers are manageable enough, even if they can’t be cured completely, and that she’s got many years ahead of her. I know I shouldn’t care because she was a horrible friend who did horrible things to me, even if I was less than perfect myself. I’m just curious by nature, I guess.

Last night I dreamed that Tom and I were walking down a dark street at night. Houses flanked the road, which seemed almost in a semi-rural area. There were many trees at the sides of the road that were very tall. While I didn’t feel any wind down by the street, I could hear the sound of wind rustling the treetops way up above. When I commented on it, Tom said something about it being virtually cloudless, as if that explained the wind.

“Let’s move down here,” Tom said, and we picked up our pace.

I said something and then he said something about not wanting people to see the blue light. He wore a hat with some type of strange blue LED light on it.

I began running toward a steep hill and exclaimed, “Fun time! But not as fun as on the bike.”

Then in a split second, it was daytime and the hilly road turned into a waterslide. We slid down on sheets of plastic, and then in another second, the slide became a few steep steps. A woman with auburn hair stood on a step in front of us and Tom pointed to her hair and started talking about hair dye and the way it was cut and stuff like that.

Next, I was in a store or restaurant that seemed to be mine and going through some stuffed animals I had scattered about the place for someone’s daughter.

Lastly, I was trying to coax a large dog off a bed while laughing at a cute rat on some bookshelf.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2017 Kathleen called and my first thought was that she was going to want to reschedule my appointment. Instead, she said my retainer was ready and that I could come in and try it on. I’ll give her a call later and explain that I wasn’t going to pick it up until my appointment next Tuesday unless I can go in this Saturday. Might as well wait till Tuesday, though. I’m sure they’ll be okay with that.

I almost didn’t confirm my appointment in the email I got to see if it would prompt her to call. Realizing how silly that was now that I’m totally sure I’ll never hear from her outside the office after having time to reflect on it and remember that she does work for me and that old patterns don’t usually change this late in life, I went and confirmed. But then there she goes and calls me at 4 o’clock, a few hours after I crashed.

From the sound of it, she may have already undergone that inevitable change. She sounded more serious and less cheery. In some ways, she almost sounded hushed and rushed. Not much of a difference yet, though, compared to how drastically Stacey changed.

Even though I no longer think she may like me and I don’t believe we’ll have a simple friendship, I still sometimes wish some unbiased person had witnessed our interactions to give me their opinion. In some ways, It’s hard to believe I was wrong about her being attracted to me. I was right about Stacey, after all, and I’m still a pretty intuitive person who picks up on these things and just things in general. But if I had five unbiased witnesses it sure would be interesting, being the curious person I am by nature, to see how many would say they thought she was or wasn’t just being friendly.

At this point, despite the feelings I got from her words, actions and the way she’d look at me, I don’t see how she could be attracted to me. She would have contacted me, unethical or not. While it would have been nice to have her as a friend I still think it’s easier not to bother and to just keep to myself. So, history repeating itself in a sense is a good thing.

Even though women can usually be friends with those they’re attracted to as opposed to men, who prefer all or nothing, the pattern is clear. The number of women who have blown me off or left the area if I didn’t leave first shows there’s a very good chance that something up there definitely doesn’t want me interacting any more than I did with them to begin with.

Last night’s dreams:

Worried that Dr. A might see my dream notes and become thoroughly confused if not worried for my sanity.

Flying low over a foreign country and reading all the foreign writing on the stores in buildings.

Being sent to a jail that didn’t seem anything like a typical jail for something I did to some company.

Tom works with a 30-year-old Indian lady whose native language is Punjabi. She was recently started on levothyroxine and I told him to warn her of what can happen on the stuff. While many people have had the problems I had, and have doctors that don’t warn them up front, most people take it without issue so he didn’t see the point in scaring her.

Anyway, she’s going to see my dentist the day after I see her. She said that when she scheduled the appointment (we’re surprised they’re getting her in so soon), they asked how she found them. I’m guessing she spoke to Kathleen. She said her coworker’s wife referred her and gave her my name. I wonder if I’ll get some kind of discount for the referral. A couple of years or so ago the dentist sent letters out saying anyone who referred anyone to her would get a $100 discount. Either way, she’ll be in good hands.

Tom wondered if the office was a little too “white” for her but if that’s the case maybe she should go back home. Seriously, though, I’m sure the staff will have no problem whatsoever with her. Not only do the vast majority of people not have a problem with those of different colors and cultures despite the media making it seem otherwise since it’s the haters we hear more about, but I’m also pretty intuitive in that kind of way. I highly doubt any of them would give a shit about color, nationality, or sexual orientation.

She does, however, know the people next to them who do henna tats which many Indian and Middle Eastern women get.

It was funny because she told Tom they asked him what they should call her. Her name is Pawandeep and I guess her family calls her Pawan while others simply call her Deep. LOL, Well, Deep is in deep shit if she accumulates a little too much thyroid medication in her system or has pocket flares within the gland. I don’t think she has Hashimoto’s, though. I think she had an entirely different situation. Some kind of growth on the gland. She also couldn’t stop gaining weight. I can’t lose weight without starving, but I was never at the point where I was gaining out-of-control, and there are no growths or enlargement of any kind in my case. Hopefully, she won’t have any issues with the meds, especially once she hits perimenopause.

I’ve been feeling well but I’m now full-blown watery. I hate this going back and forth with the water, but as I read, it’s part of crossing over into menopause. Really hope I lose the water eventually for good. The only thing that sucks about feeling calm is knowing that sooner or later the anxiety is going to get me again right along with another period. I’ve never gone longer than 3.5 months since I went into peri, and I only did that once. That was last fall. I would be really surprised to make it to the 20th of this month without a period. You know I never get any breaks and I never get off easy in any way. I’m going to have periods later than most women.

For the longest time, I criticized those who would come to this country and be too lazy to learn English. Yes, I still do think a lot of them are just plain lazy, but I’ve also come to realize that not everyone has the knack I have for languages. Tom, who is a genius in many ways and way smarter than your average person, could never become fluent in any language other than English even if he lived in the country that spoke it. So yeah, they’re not all “lazy.” Being around a bunch of mathematicians wouldn’t make me good with numbers any more than being around a bunch of cooks would make me a good cook.

We’re really excited about this thing that Google is about to release, being the tech junkies that we are. It’s an earbud with a microphone where I could talk to someone who spoke only Japanese, for example, and the voice would translate my English to Japanese for them and vice versa. That is just so damn cool! Maybe it would be fun to use when watching movies in foreign languages so we didn’t have to read the subtitles. Of the many languages I’ve studied, I don’t know any of the Asian languages so I could try it on that.

Our phones print out what people say in voice messages to us, so you don’t have to listen to the actual VM if you don’t want to. I’m amazed at how accurate it was given how fast Kathleen spoke the message she left me. She said over 63 words in 17 seconds.

I played it for Tom and he agrees her voice is a bit obnoxious because it’s high-pitched. It’s a very friendly-sounding voice but otherwise annoying. Stacey definitely had the better voice.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2017 Today I have been smoke-free for 20 years! I’ve been fat ever since but if returning to a size 3 meant not being able to breathe all over again, I would gladly stay a size 10-12!

On the 27th of this month, I will have been keeping a journal for 30 years! So a couple of definite impressive milestones this month to be proud of.

We went out walking late last night and it was utterly freezing in the high 40s. I usually like to walk before I run, but I was so cold that I broke into a run right away to try to warm up. I never did, though, and so I’m going to get myself a hot pink 3-hole ski mask as well as pink and black microfleece-lined gloves. The pale pink knit gloves I have don’t really keep my hands all that warm.

Carolyn is 63 today. About 5 years older than I would have guessed her to be.

Just a bunch of snippets of dreams last night…

Heading toward an exit after some kind of event as a young woman in a sparkly leotard and lots of makeup closed a door as someone told me that the exit was for the performers.

Entering an arcade and wanting to play a certain game even though I knew it may put my computer at risk of getting a virus.

Me with another guy and a couple of kids on a swing set in a rural area (makes me wonder about the parallel lives theory again since an afterlife doesn’t seem scientifically possible) waving to a guy passing on a moped and thinking of the slower, quieter times of day in which to rest or do certain things if I wanted to.

Handling a typical soap dispenser.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2017 While I’ve never personally owned a gun, I am all for the right to bear arms and even kill in the name of self-defense. But what happened in Las Vegas is terrible. Just terrible! The question is how to keep the right to bear arms and those arms out of the wrong hands at the same time. Until then, may the survivors heal as quickly and as efficiently as possible!

Last night I dreamed we were living in a regular neighborhood. There was a two-story house next to us and I knew that some people had just moved in and that I was probably going to have to ask them to curb their mutt’s barking as soon as I heard it, knowing they likely wouldn’t allow it indoors.

Sure enough, I was doing something in the kitchen when I heard a bark. I looked out the window and saw a smallish dog tethered not in their backyard but at the side of their house in the space that ran between our house and theirs. Knowing there was no way I was going to tolerate barking that was literally right outside our window, I headed over there.

Once outside, I spotted a woman who multiplied into half a dozen men and women in just seconds. They were in their 20s and 30s and after they introduced themselves they explained that they were renting the place. They seemed really nice, but nonetheless, I told them, “I love animals but I hate barking,” and asked that they move the dog away from our house. I don’t know how they reacted to this request because I woke up before they could answer.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 2, 2017 Love how Alexa can now make phone calls. I could relax in bed and tell her to call Tammy or whoever. It was funny because I tested it by having her call me and as I spoke into the phone my voice was also coming out of the Echo. I still prefer email and messenger to live chats, though.

The old lady in Tennessee that I thought was ghosting me left a comment on my latest entry. Nothing about my books, though.

Although she doesn’t do it as often as the girls do, Tammy shares posts about missing those in heaven every now and then, and I’ve noticed she’s been doing it more lately since Bill died. Sometimes I wonder just who she has in mind when she posts these things, but she did mention dad in the last one.

Love my new rat mug. It’s a large heavy mug and the rat silhouettes are very distinct.

Tom printed a new hook for the mailbox key and wrote the word “mail” in pink with the 3-D pen. It looks damn cool!

Last night I dreamed that Kathleen was kissing me on the head, and then I guess I was living with my family in the house that was next to my grandparents. In fact, I was on my way over to my grandparents’ when I spotted a black bear cub running through the woods, which extended further between the houses than it did in real life.

Then I was inside our house handing my annoyed-looking father what looked like a stack of old vinyl records and asked that he find a way to recycle them.

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