#I didn’t fucking ask to be sick or tomorrow be able to sleep in this house

[flintstill]

God I loved that in my neighborhood back where my lease is that the grass gets mowed at like 5pm or a bit later

Fuck ye outside my window I’m trying to go back to sleep

[corpsebasil]

Bonnie and Clyde Part 3 / Triple Threat Combination

In which a group of psychos attempts to corrupt the eldest Carpenter sister. (Go read triple threat for better context!! This is my take on Scream 7 pretty much)

It had been three months since the murders in New York. Three months of plotting, of recovering, and of teaming up with the secret children of Stu Macher, the twisted psychopath that had inspired your own ideas.

Three months since Ethan had stumbled through the front door, bleeding heavily, and you'd done your best to fix him, though you spent more time crying than anything and felt utterly useless. Three months since Matteo, the middle son of Stu's three batshit kids, had stitched up anything he could, insisting he'd had medical training. Ansel, the eldest, had watched the entire process with such a hungry, menacing look that you’d threatened to skin him alive if he looked at Ethan like that again. The youngest daughter, Lola, had watched you with the silent stare of a predator, an amused look on her pretty face.

Just last night you’d gotten into a screaming match with Ansel, one where he’d threatened to cut you up into tiny little pieces and you said you’d feed him to subway rats. Only Matteo had been able to calm the two of you down, the middle brother seemingly the only one with his head not in the clouds.

“You two—” he said, pointing a rather lethal looking sword at you. A sword. You’d felt ridiculously out of your depth when the three children of Stu had shown up with their advanced weaponry, their connection to Ethan something he’d never told you. “need to calm the fuck down. I’m tired of hearing you bitch at each other all the time.”

“Then put your psychotic brother on a fucking leash.” You snapped, glaring at the stupidly handsome guy. You hated to admit it, but all of Stu’s kids were attractive. Even Ansel had a strangely alluring aspect, even if he made you extremely uncomfortable. “I feel like he’s going to stick a knife in me when I’m sleeping.”

“I’d love to stick something in you, Y/N.” Ansel purred, and the sick glint of amusement in his eyes told you exactly what he was thinking of.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” You said, glaring as you finally calmed down enough to set your kitchen knife down on the counter.

“Where’s your pretty boyfriend?” Lola asked, legs crossed as she sat on the couch. You two weren’t particularly chummy with one another, not like you and Quinn had been, but there was a comforting quality in knowing another girl was in on this chaos. “Matteo should check his injuries. See if he’s ready for tomorrow.”

“I think he’s still asleep.” You mumbled, making a wide berth away from Ansel as you headed to your bedroom. He just grinned at you, that feline expression of his giving you goosebumps.

Ethan had been depressed lately, though he was still on board for round two of a Ghostface attack. He was hell bent on avenging Wayne and Quinn, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t also feel an urge to take out Tara and Sam. But Stu’s kids insisted on recruiting Sam, saying they’d kill you and Ethan both if you tried to make any moves on their ‘honorary sister’, Ansel’s words, not yours.

“Baby?” You whispered, entering the room and shutting the door behind you. You could still hear the siblings muttering amongst themselves as you moved to the bed, but ignored them. “Baby are you awake?”

Ethan blinked up at you slowly, his body curled up into a ball in the bed. He licked his lips, eyes staring into nothing before he spoke.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. He sat up slowly and your eyes moved to his bare chest, cringing at the multitude of scars from where he’d been stabbed. “I cant sleep. You guys are loud as fuck.”

“Sorry.” You said, smiling softly as you sat beside him, taking his hand.

He’d had a hard time after his family’s death. The only solace was that you were alive, and that Stu’s kids were there to help. He wasn’t as wary around Ansel as you were, and he’d quickly began to treat Matteo and Lola like they were his own siblings. Perhaps he was trying to fill a void.

“Is Ansel threatening to cut you up again?” He asked, a teasing glint in his eyes as he pulled your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.

The two of you had always been in love, sure, but after he’d almost died he’d been treating you with a brand new tenderness that almost alarmed you. It was like all the hate and rage had left him and the only bits remaining were the soft ones. It was a bit confusing, and more than worrisome. Would he actually be able to go through with killing again?

“He always is.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at his grin. “Honestly, if he threatens me one more time.”

“Give him a chance.”

“I have. He’s insane.”

“We are too, sweetheart.” He smiled wider, and a flash of that familiar dark glint reached his eyes. “Just maybe not…asylum insane.”

You chuckled at that, then jumped when you heard a crashing sound. You stood up and opened the door, walking down the hall to peer in the living-room. Lola was straddling Ansel, shoving a pillow down over his face as he struggled. For a smaller girl she was very strong, and you gaped at the sight before you.

“Matteo, help!” Ansel gasped, struggling for air.

“Don’t help him. Get the pliers. Which is your least favorite fingernail, big bro?” Lola asked, tone wry as Matteo smiled.

“What the hell did he do now?” You asked, amused despite yourself, and he shrugged.

“Asked if the carpets matched the drapes.”

“I’m tired of your shit.” Lola was saying, still in the process of suffocating her own sibling. “Say it again and see what happens.”

“You’re just as—mean as her!” Ansel was gasping, flinging a hand out towards you. Lola gave you a wicked grin, finally letting up.

“Your call, Y/N. Do we execute him?”

“I vote guillotine.” You mused, tapping your chin with a fingernail as you fought back a laugh. “Maybe blunt force trauma?”

“There’s too much insanity in this house.” Matteo sighed, standing up and moving to the front door. “I’m getting Dunkin. Get ready for an all night planning session.” He turned and pointed a finger at the three of you. “I’m serious. If I come back and anyone is injured, I’m going back to Woodsboro by myself.”

You all groaned and complained as Matteo left, but then Lola’s eyes slid to your own as the front door shut. Her smile turned feline as she looked at you, her voice soft and angelic.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” she began, blinking flirtatiously. “Do you think Matteo would be too mad if we turned Ansel into a scarecrow?”

“Hmmm.” You murmured, trying not to laugh as Ansel’s eyes widened. “Probably not. He wouldn’t even recognize him. We could say he panicked and fled town.”

“Hear that, Ansie?” Lola giggled, peering down at her brother as he thrashed. “Y/N wants you dead, too.”

“I’m sick of you both.” Ansel spat, still trying to escape. “You’re both hellions. Absolute heathens.”

“You love us.” Lola grinned, and finally let him go, moving off to step towards you. “Come on.” She said, grabbing your hand. “I’m desperate for a sister. Let’s go do girl shit.”

You laughed as she tugged you towards your room, trying to ignore the pain in your heart that occurred when you thought of Quinn. You smiled at Lola, allowing her to flop down on your bed and open up Netflix, her dark eyes scanning the options.

“Wanna invite your boyfriend?” She asked, eyes darting to yours, and you nodded.

But just as you left the room to get Ethan you jumped; Ansel flew by you, complaining about ‘girls night’ and ‘why am I never invited’ as he dived face first onto the bed. You could still hear Lola screaming with laughter as you finally made it to Ethan’s room, a smile on your face.

I’ve decided this is going to be a serious series LMAO

make sure to comment please guys!!! I love feedback and want your opinions on what should happen later in the series?

Who should die? Chad? Mindy? Tara??? TELL ME

[forget-me-maybe]

Rolan HC

So, I was sick last week and thought about how Rolan would react on my Tav being sick.

I think he'd be very caring, as he always is, but he's also so unproportionally scared of getting sick he'd be acting somewhat irrationally. Anyways, here's a short SFW drabble:

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Throughout the history of Toril there’s one disease no cleric, druid or alchemist has been able to cure. 

The common cold. 

Faye had been snivelling all day, blaming it mostly on the cold weather the Gate experienced this winter. 

But then she sneezed. 

And she had never seen Rolan get out of the couch faster, stumbling and sweeping down a carafe from the table with his tail. 

“You’re sick” he said while he looked at her like she had just turned into a mindflayer. 

“I’m fine” Faye tried to reassure the wizard. “It’s probably just a cold” 

“Just a cold?” he snapped at her. “Just the most contagious disease known to this plane that bears no cure!” 

Faye was shocked and slightly amused by the exaggerated reaction. Rolan had never shown signs of being a germaphobe. He liked to keep things clean but never to an extreme extent. 

But this. This was new. 

Just as Faye was about to say something reassuring, the portal did the swooshy thing and Cal and Lia entered the tower. 

“I don’t feel well” Lia said, her voice hoarse and tired. 

“Me neither, I’ll see you tomorrow” Cal said in an equally tired voice. 

Rolan looked like he was about to combust. 

“I’m setting up quarantine” he said through gritted teeth. 

“You’re what?” Faye said, staring at him blankly. 

And that’s how she and the younger siblings ended up confined in their rooms. 

Rolan wasn’t an awful warden, in fact he would probably go down in history as one of the best. He made chicken soup that he teleported into the prisoners’ rooms, made sure they always had hot tea and made tonics for their sore throats. 

He wrote cute little notes that accompanied the daily rations. 

Eat. X 

Drink. X

Sleep. X 

Faye suspected Cal and Lia got similar notes except the Xs. 

But Faye was bored. Sure, she was unwell. Her body ached and her nose was clogged up but she’d much rather be getting at least something done than just laying in bed all day. 

She had been in solitary confinement for one and a half days when there was a knock on the door. Excited by the fact that anything at all happened she jumped from her spot in the bed to open. She opened the door just an inch to find Cal and Lia. 

“Quickly, let us in” Lia whispered and didn’t wait for an answer before she had pushed herself inside with Cal right behind. 

Faye carefully closed the door to not make a sound as it shut and gave the siblings a questioning look. 

“So, this is your first time getting a cold while living with Rolan” Lia said as she walked over to the bed. 

“Is he like this every time?” Faye asked. 

“More or less, he’s better now though” Cal said. “One time mum had to tell him off for trying to lock us up in the attic” 

“So, me and Cal always pretend it’s a fun sleepover situation instead” Lia chimes in. “If you’re up for it?” 

“Fuck yeah I am” Faye blurted out, unable to contain her excitement for just being able to talk to someone. 

So, the three pyjama-clad captives settled in bed, Lia in the middle and Cal and Faye on each side. 

They played cards, they chatted. Cal got a bit worse (men just can’t handle a simple cold) and fell asleep. Faye and Lia continued talking into the small hours of the night before they too were claimed by sleep. 

Faye woke up a bit worse for wear, but not as bad as the tall tiefling staring at the three of them from the door. She shot him a crooked and apologetic smile as she pondered on what new quarantine rules he’d set up now that they’ve been caught. 

But then Rolan snivelled. 

“I’ve succumbed to your illness” he muttered, approaching the bed with a face that can only be described as completely miserable. “Scoot” 

There was not much room to scoot, sure their bed was big, but not four-people-big. Lia got an accidental elbow to the ribs and Cal almost fell off the bed on the other side as Rolan squeezed himself into the small space that was available to him. 

The younger siblings quickly excused themselves and left the room, for all of their sakes. 

Faye wrapped her arms around Rolan, he was warmer than normally and still shivered. She wondered how long he waited until he admitted to himself that he too was unwell. 

“If I die –” 

“You’re not dying from a cold” Faye cut him off. 

“If I die, and since we’re not married yet, you have no claim to the tower” he said, ignoring her remark. 

“Not married yet?” 

“That’s not the point of what I’m trying to say” he dismissed her, completely ignoring the grin spread on her face. “Cal and Lia could in theory kick you out, don’t let them” 

“I really don’t think they would” she said firmly. Actually she was quite sure the only way she’d be kicked out of the tower was if she were to hurt Rolan and she’d most likely be taking a shortcut from the balcony if that were to happen. 

“I should put it down in writing” he blurted out, sitting up so quickly he almost fell out of the bed. “Get my business in order before…” 

“You’re not dying from a cold, you silly man!” 

She pulled him back into a lying position, smothering him with enough blankets to keep a bugbear down. She wiped some sweat beads from his forehead and the wizard’s face finally relaxed. Faye figured she could sleep a bit more now that she was next to him.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Do we have any tiny bitty epilogue for Stellar Behavior 🥹 I just want to know more about their life after be mom&dad

Whoaaaaa, hi!! 💜

I didn't think I'd be able to answer you this month, but here we are! 💪

I hope you enjoy it 😚

Stellar Behavior 💜 Epilogue

Yoongi was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for the light to turn green. He was stressed. He couldn’t help it; every kilometer he drove away from you just tightened his heart.

The sun was rising in the sky, Seoul was fairly calm, there were barely any cars on the road, and yet he was more uneasy than during a police car chase or a media frenzy about a difficult trial. All because he was leaving you alone for the first time, and it just didn’t feel right.

You had tried to handle things by yourself initially, leaving him stupefied. You had just been kidnapped and gone through labor, and yet you bounced back like nothing he had ever seen. Your willpower alone was impressive, but your resilience was humbling. Yoongi didn’t know how you did it, but it only made him admire you even more.

Still, when you told him to return to work and pretend he didn’t have you and a newborn at home, he unequivocally said, “No.”

There wasn’t any way he wouldn’t be there for his family. He didn’t care if people knew he had a kid without even knowing he had a partner. He wasn’t worried that anyone would connect the dots. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, either; you and your baby had become the center of his world. Those who needed to know surely did by now; whoever found out would likely be careful. Yoongi wouldn’t hesitate to keep his family safe. That much he had made abundantly clear the very night his son was born.

But now, he was uneasy. He had to get back to work, and even though you were surrounded by trusted people, he just couldn’t relax. What if you were thirsty? What if your son had cramps again? What if you needed to nap? He knew you didn’t trust anyone to look after him while you slept.

He gripped the steering wheel and drove lethargically, dreading every millimeter—at least until you called; as soon as your name popped on the screen, he instantly picked it up: “Yes?”

“Are you busy?”

“Driving.”

“Can you call in sick?”

His lips twitched in a smile at your tone — just wondering aloud when he knew exactly what you were asking.

“Turning back right now.”

“Good.”

He returned utterly relaxed, happily taking every green light on his way home. He called his secretary absentmindedly, already wondering why you had called. You were typically like this. He already knew you well — it was difficult for you to say precisely what you needed from him unless you were face to face. Only when you were in his arms could you be vulnerable and reveal your deepest thoughts and wishes. Of course, you didn’t need a profound reason to want him back home, and for all he cared, you just had to wish for it, and he’d make it come true.

He went straight to the nursery and was surprised to find it empty. His next destination was your shared bedroom, but you weren’t there either, so he turned to a third choice.

Your office was the same as he had last seen it, except this time, you were pacing gently back and forth while you lulled your boy in your arms. The window in front of you let the daylight shine on your features, so he instantly noticed you were upset.

You heard steps behind you and turned, “Finally.”

“I was gone fifteen minutes,” he simply said, reaching to brush his sleeping son’s head before kissing your forehead.

Your body language could be rigid, but your expression instantly soothed, “Then it was fifteen too long.”

“Thought you wanted me back to work,” he teased quietly, snaking his arms around you, still holding your son to your chest.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

You melted into his arms, but he knew those eyes, “What’s wrong?”

You heaved a sigh, “There are a few… people… who tried to step on my toes,” you bit, looking down at your delicious son, drooling in his sleep. “Just the fucking audacity…”

You looked the strongest when it was about protecting your son, or him, and Yoongi loved it every single time.

So he let go of you and gently took your son out of your arms so he wouldn’t wake up. “Sounds like you need to get back to business sooner than I do.”

You caressed your baby’s cheek before sighing and looking up at Yoongi, “It does, doesn’t it?”

He smirked, “Knock’em dead.”

[paeries]

Sick Of You III — h.s.

[when a boyfriend of two years breaks it off and offers a new arrangement, of course you’ll take it up. this is your prime chance to prove him wrong. and Harry can’t bear to watch it]

[part one is here, part two is here, and i just wanted to say thank you thank you thank you for all the love you’ve shown. this one took a loonnngggg time to hash out because I wanted to give it a good realistic feel to the argument, bc y/n fucked up badddd. so, that being said, i'm hoping i was able to deliver and i really hope you enjoy it xxx]

wc; 13.3k

pairing; harry x reader

cw; friends to lovers au, brief smut, annggsssttttt, harry tears, lots of arguing, drinking, smoking, swearing ALOT of it, we’re not exactly y/n’s biggest fans

pov; y/n, but third person

[pssst…. you can find my masterlist here]

“There y’go, sweet girl.” Harry panted out, his hands cupped under her ass as she rocked back and forth on his cock, the tip practically smushed against her g-spot. “Tha’ feel good?” He hummed, as she buried her face in his neck, her hands gripping tight at his shoulders for leverage. She nodded quickly, gasping out a weak ‘Yes!’ before whimpering against the crook of his neck. “So full, Harry.” She hiccuped and Harry’s head fell back, Y/N taking the opportunity to litter kisses anywhere she could at the newly uncovered area. His hands came up to smooth along her back, one hand finding the soft ends of her hair, his fingers twirling the strands around each digit. He’d learned long ago about how she’d coo and preen into his touch. He had moved his head back to watch her do just that, and watch the goosebumps skirt up her arms. “All mine, dove.” He had hummed against her skin. “Tell me.” He begged, sliding an arm around her waist to lift her up a bit, his hips rocking up into her. He heard her gasp, whine, whimper, everything but what he really wanted to hear. “Tell me, Y/N. Please, tell me you’re mine.” He asked again, peppering kisses across her chest. Just as he found her nipple beginning to suck gently, as he knew would get her to say what he wanted to hear, a lower voice from the corner began to laugh.

“Go on, tell him.”

Harry’s head snapped up, ignoring Y/N’s cries as she came, her hips still rocking against him with her head thrown back.

Mark was standing by the door.

•••

Harry’s eyes flew open, sitting up immediately before scanning the room for his clock that he must’ve kicked to the floor in his sleep. 4:16am. He groaned, his hands reaching up to rub his face before laying back down. Maybe I can stare at the ceiling some more and fall asleep?

“Tell him.” Harry audibly scowled, pulling the pillow over his head. He couldn’t even find peace in his sleep, his own brain won’t let him get the girl while he’s unconscious. Ridiculous, really. At this point, he’d rather just scrap the whole day and try again tomorrow. He didn’t feel like moving. Didn’t feel like sitting up and he didn’t feel like stretching his aching limbs. He certainly didn't feel like pulling his curtains back to let the daylight in, definitely didn’t feel like getting in the shower, didn’t feel like tidying up his living room from the night before, he didn’t feel like doing anything but lay down.

So he did. With the T.V. on whatever was already channelled in, he laid in his bed and let his thoughts drift. If he looked out to the aforementioned curtain covered window, he wondered if it was going to rain, since the sun should’ve begun coming up by now. It had to have been covered in clouds, a perfect start to a shitty morning evidently. He dared look back at the clock. What had felt like it had at least been ten minutes, in fact was a little of an hour had gone by. So, with his throat scratchy, his eyes raw, his head pounding, and feeling like shit, he pushed himself up to trudge into the bathroom despite his lack of motivation. Start with a shower, he thought to himself, as he brought a heavy hand to the knobs before stepping under the water.

Usually, he would let his mind wander. Sometimes long enough for his hands to find his cock, tugging till he found his relief under the water. Now? He shuts his eyes, focusing instead on the feel of the hot water pelting at his skin. If only he could put it all off until tomorrow and stop existing only for the day. He was well aware that the minute he’d let the reins go, his thoughts would return to her.

Yet, Harry suddenly can't seem to catch his breath in the shower, the inevitable tears slipping past his cheeks as hard choking sobs wracked through his body, his forehead resting against the ceramic tiles. Nothing could stop whatever noise clawed its way from his gut and out of his mouth when he thought about the night before. He wasn’t even sure why this time was so much worse than all the others.

Was it because he felt like the end was near? That his efforts paid off, or that it was looking like he’d come out on top after all? That all signs were pointing to yes? Not, watch out for the rug that's about to be ripped away from under your feet? Or was it how stupid he never thought she’d have been to throw away what was obviously the right kind of love? That she'd be so blinded to deny it?

You shouldn’t think like that, it’s not like you don’t love her anymore.

Finally stepping out of the shower, he grabbed whatever clothes his hands found from his drawers and began down the hallway to the kitchen. As Harry brewed himself a cup of coffee, he scrolled through his phone for unanswered texts or calls, even updating himself on the news. Again, anything that allowed his mind to venture away from her. Sure there were things that always reminded him of her but he did his best to steer clear as best he could.

While he waited for the machine to finish, he glanced over his living spaces. Nothing too terrible. There were some empty pizza boxes on the kitchen island (he later learned that someone was kind enough to put the last unopened box of pizza in his fridge along with the drinks), and the chairs were a bit haphazard and the couch was covered in crumbs and pillows. This really shouldn’t take too long to tidy up.

About an hour passed, and Harry had gotten through his second cup of coffee, feeling somewhat better and more alert. At least enough to get the day done and over with. So Harry, after looking at the state of his neglected garden from the window, decided to dip into the closet for his broom to start there. The area hadn’t been used since the summer, and with the snowier months on the way, he thought he’d better tidy it now so it wasn’t so atrocious come next springtime.

By the time he finished and stepped back inside the heated walls, a knock came from his front door. Dread ran through his blood, as he stared at it before hurriedly opening the door, immediate relief rippling through his body when Daphne was revealed to have been standing at the other side.

“Hey, Daph.” He sighed, his head tilted in confusion afterwards. “S’quite early, isn’t it? Why’re you up?” He asked but Daphne shook her head, and he noticed she looked quite frazzled. “Nevermind that, y’busy?” She asked hurriedly. “Not exactly, but,” Harry started before Daphne was pushing past him into his house. “Come on in, I guess.” He muttered, shutting the door to follow her. “Are you cleaning?” She asked immediately and Harry’s eyes widened. He wasn’t exactly awake just enough to have prepared himself for company. “Not deeply, just tidying.” He replied, eyeing her carefully. He couldn’t tell what was wrong with her. She wasn’t as put together as usual. Honestly, she looked quite dishevelled. “Good. I’ll help you.” She answered, going to grab a trash bag to collect the empty beer cans and bottles. Harry waited a second, feeling his confusion grow deeper before grabbing a bag as well.

They cleaned in silence for a while before Daphne, who was now holding paper towels and some sort of spray to wipe the counters. “Y’sleep okay?” She finally asked and Harry straightened up. “Slept fine.” He answered quickly, hoping that was the last question. (Somehow, he wasn’t convinced.)

Silence again, apart from the occasional spraying sound from her surface cleaner. “Because, y’never came back out after you got sick.” Daphne pried again, and Harry let out a loud exhale. “I’m fine, Daphne.” He reiterated, looking at her sternly. He reaaallllyyy did not want to talk about it, especially with Daphne. She had barely paused, still wiping down the tables or setting glasses in the sink. “It’s just that, I-I’m having a hard time believing you, Harry. I know how you get.” She began again and Harry groaned, his head tipping back. “Daphne. I’m fine. S’alright.” He said again, staring at the ceiling as silence filled the room again.

Thank Go—

“What’d y’mean, s’alright, Harry?” Daphne shouted suddenly, her eyebrows furrowed at him in some form of disbelief. Surely, he’s joking, she thought. “It’s not alright, you get that, yeah?” She huffed, shaking her head at him. “That, that, what she’s doing, is, is- She’s stringing you along! I-It’s nasty, it’s cruel!” Her voice climbing higher and higher, until she was shouting.

“Enough, already! Alright? I know what it is, Daphne! But, you popping up out of nowhere at six a.m. and throwing it in my face at volume 10 isn’t helping things either!” Harry snapped, pausing from picking up the pizza boxes and glasses strewn about the coffee table. “I don’t need you to tell me any of this shit, I can handle m’self, thanks.” As much as he tried not to, he took one look at her and guilt rushed over him. “M’sorry, for yelling. I’m just,” He sighed, setting the garbage bag down to free his hands. “I’m trying to get my mind off it, so, it’s just not something that I really want to talk about. I appreciate your concern, I do. But, I think I just want to be alone.” Daphne chewed at the inside of her lip as she listened to him, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t come here to pry. I just wanted to check in.” She finally uttered out, going to finish tidying in the kitchen. “I’m at least going to help you finish first.” She said adamantly. And Harry let out a sigh of relief. That, he could manage. “Thank you, Daph, really.” He reiterated, grateful for the help and now silent company.

By the time Y/N left Jodie’s and arrived at Harry’s, she found that his car was running in the driveway, and his front door seemed to be cracked open by a smidge.

Where was he headed off to? Should I go?

Before another thought could form in her brain, Harry came out in what looked like a hurry, stopping briefly at the sight of her before bounding right past her to the boot of his car.

She stayed still while chewing at the inside of her lip, watching as Harry wrapped up six or seven bags in his arms. Without much acknowledgement, he slid past her again to get in the door. “Would you take the keys out of the ignition for me, this is the last of it.” He grumbled as he passed her. “Sure-,” She sighed, opening his driver door to pull the keys out, the engine shutting down immediately.

After making what felt like a walk of shame to the front door, she froze upon entering. Harry was busying himself with getting the groceries put away, walking back and forth between the bags on the kitchen floor to the fridge or cupboards. Harry was determined not to show her how upset he really was. He wanted to give her the same treatment he had been experiencing from her. Besides the fact, that he was terrified he’d start crying the minute he got a good look at her.

“How have y’been?” He asked, barely taking a glance at her as she shut the door behind her. Just focus on the groceries and the house, he thought to himself. Chairs were still every which way, and Harry had relieved Daphne of her duties about an hour earlier once she finished mopping, so he could manage to pop out to the store and grab some groceries for the week. Organising his apartment, unfortunately, took a brief back corner.

Y/N had stepped in, cautious to watch him as he moved over his apartment. “Have t’say that I’ve felt better.” She mumbled, choosing to stay in the entryway and out of his way. “That so?” Harry replied, his jaw clenching. It was clear that she wasn’t going to let it blow past another day. He decided to prepare himself for the second argument of the day.

“Yeah, um, Harry?” She said hurriedly, wringing her hands together to try and work up the nerve. Harry sighed, ducking his head in the fridge to keep himself busy. “Yeah,” He said dejectedly. There’s no running from it now.

“I wanted to apologise for leaving everyone in the dark last night.” There it was. Harry felt his teeth begin to grind against one another, and he turned to collect some of the emptied reusable bags amongst the others to put them away for his next trip. He hated the plastic bags.

Maybe we could distract ourselves with our thoughts long enough to tune her out?

“It was a rough night, and,” she paused for a moment, “Clearly, I had had a major lapse in judgement.” He feels like his blood's boiling a degree or so higher with every word coming out of her mouth.

He clears his throat, “It’s fine, Y/N.” Can’t you take a hint?

“But it’s not fine, and,” She goes on, but Harry isn’t listening. He knows she's still talking and he’s fully tuned out, but he can’t stomach this much longer. He knew what she was saying without even listening. It was always some excuse, or half-assed ‘Sorry’. So, trying everything he could to cut her off, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” he griped, hoping that was enough to let her know to back off. What was everyone’s deal? Wanting to talk about it? When did everybody start caring about it?

“Harry, I’m sorry,” She began again, “you’re clearly angry, so just let me,” Harry’s loud groan interrupted her again as he lifted a hand to stop her, “Just stop, yeah?! Sorry?” He spat, “Sorry’s not good enough! You can’t just say- M’tired,” He seethed, “Of hearing how sorry you are. This time, sorry won’t fix it. S’just too soon.” His long legs carried him to the living room to bring a chair back to the kitchen table along with a few wine glasses to sit in the sink, desperate to find something to busy himself with. Anything to avoid this exact argument.

“Wow, y’sound like Daphne.” She muttered, and what meant to sound like a lighthearted joke to lighten the mood, now sounded bitter and demeaning as she now understood, shutting her eyes tight when she saw his head snap back to her. “What?” He asked carefully, taking a few steps in her direction. “What did you just say?” She’d never seen him so angry, taking a few steps backwards as well. “I-I- I didn’t mean,” She stuttered, chewing at her lip when her back met the front door. “Cos’ t’me? Sounded like you had somethin’ snippy to say, and I’d say that you’re in no place to make petty remarks. Especially, when asking me to forgive you all while you stand there, mottled with bruises and hickeys from him.” He spat, shaking his head at her. “How stupid do you think I am?” His head tilted at her, finally backing up to continue unpacking the bags from the store in the kitchen, even laughing as he did. “Hilarious.” He laughed out, glancing back at her before laughing again as he dug through the groceries.

“I-I don’t- think you’re stupid, that’s,” she sighed, starting again with a concentrated breath, “I know you’re angry. And, I know that I deserve to hear it.”

It made his head spin. The same way it always did when he would put his argument aside and give in. Harry could feel his blood bubbling with anger, with hurt, sadness, all of it coming to a head. Before he could do anything to stop it; he turned around again.

“No, what you deserve is each other.” He spat, immediately regretting the words the minute they came out. He knew it sounded morose and beneath him. But he wouldn’t take it back. He was angry, he is angry. Her eyes went wide, opening her mouth before closing it shortly after taking a few steps towards him again. “I-I,” She began again and he watched as her eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursed as her eyes danced around the floor before continuing, “You used me! I can’t continue to be the backup, Y/N! That’s all I am! When he doesn't want you, I’m suddenly good enough. Do I matter that little to you?” He felt like he was gasping for air, suffocating slowly and desperate for relief.

She stopped in her tracks, “Of course not, Harry. You know how I feel about you.” She couldn’t think of a time when Harry didn’t matter to her. So her confusion, trying to understand where everything went so wrong, left her at a loss. How she couldn’t see when it went wrong. If she had just talked to Jodie months ago, would they be standing at arms with one another? She’s never seen Harry like this before, ever. The normally cool, calm, collected and goofy Harry, was now hard-eyed, rigid, and cold. Hurt.

Harry scoffed, narrowing his eyes at her. “When?! When have I ever known how you feel about me? When was I something other than your plan b?!” He spat after turning back around, angrily putting cans in the cupboard and throwing frozen vegetables in the freezer. “Worst part is that I fucking knew what was going to happen at breakfast that morning! I knew it!” She thought she was hearing things, but she swore she could hear a choked whimper in his voice. Y/N pursed her lips, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t believe this, Harry. Everytime he cancelled on me, I called you. Anytime he said or did something wrong, I wanted your company. It wasn’t about the sex.”

Harry felt like throwing a full-blown tantrum as he turned around, his eyes widening. “Jesus, so what? Y’telling me I ought to be grateful then?” He quipped, staring at her.

“Of course not! I’m trying to say that I always wanted you around. And that, maybe sometimes, I was happy Mark would cancel.” She explained but Harry wasn’t buying it. “You’re something fucking else, y’know that? ‘Maybe sometimes?’ Fuckin’..” He huffed, deciding to leave it there as he went back to rinsing the wine glasses in the sink. “It’s my fault, I should've got out sooner. My bad.” He spat, leering at her over his shoulder.

“Why did you stay then?!” She yelled, her eyes boring into his back, her frustration reaching its peak. “If there were a million reasons to stop like you make it out to be, why did you stay?!” Harry rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on now. Don’t be daft.” He huffed, shutting the water off to turn to her again, drying his hands on the hand towel over his shoulder. “No, seriously! Why?!”

His eyes met hers, searching hers to try to figure out if she was being serious or not. If she was making some cruel point. “Do you really want to know?!” “Yes!” She breathed, throwing her arms in the air exasperatedly. “Do you?! You’re sure?!” “Jesus, Yes, Harry. I want to know!”

“I,” He paused for a moment to collect himself, “M’- I am in love with you.” He managed in one exhale, his body taut and tense as he looked at her.

Silence for a moment, In love? “Harr-”

“There is no ‘I think’ or ‘maybe’ or ‘could I be’, I am in love with you.” He was breathing heavily now, and deeply thankful she was keeping her distance because he was sure he’d have bursted into tears by now. “If I were Mark, I’d have married you by Month 3.” He practically growled, pained by the comparison. Harry knew full well Mark would never be a quarter of the man he was. “Unfortunately, I haven’t got the money, as we all know, but, I like to think I do well enough on my own.” He was breathing heavily, staring at her fiercely. That was a low one to hurl but he couldn’t stop himself. A full year of his misery, and now she had to make him tell her like this?

“The money?!” She was glaring now, her hands finally settling on the island counter opposite him. “I don’t give a fuck about the money, Harry. I never have, and y’know that. My mother introduced us because she knows his family. Just so happened, I fucking fell in love with him!” Harry rolled his eyes and it only fueled her on. “Right, shocking. As if you’d know what love was if it had landed in your lap.” He spat sarcastically, turning again to flip the tap back on to go back to the last few dishes left.

“Harry, I came here to tell you that I love you.” She admitted, causing Harry to flinch. Something he’d once die to hear, now he couldn’t take seriously. ”No, you don’t.” He groaned, pained to even have to reject it, his lips pulling tight to stop himself from saying anything else. “Yes, I do.” She repeated, her voice catching an irritated tone. Harry couldn’t take it, she just kept pressing, and pressing. “I want to believe you, I do,” He said, his hands shaking while scrubbing the pots and pans. “but, I can’t, not anymore.”

“You can’t- What do you mean you can’t believe me?” She breathed out, bringing her hands up to brush the hair messed around the frame away from her face, the weight of this argument growing heavy. They’d hardly argued before, and never before to this degree. “I can’t believe you when you say you love me. I believe you care for me, or about me, or whatever.” He paused, swallowing thickly so as not to break down. “I don’t believe you’d ever give me an honest chance.” He admitted, his head hanging as he leaned against the kitchen sink, refusing to look at her.

She laughed almost incredulously, “Why not?” And Harry splits, “Because of Mark!” He barked at her, spinning around to finally face her. “It’s always Mark! You've never even considered me as an option!”

“Not once did you ever even contemplate it!” He was seething now, unsure as to how he could possibly get her to grasp a fraction of an idea as to how bad she's hurt him. “What do you want me to do, Harry! I can’t go back in time! I’m apologising now!”

“Oh, Christ, Y/N- They’re just fucking words! If that’s all you have for me, you’d better just go.” He admitted, a mixture of sadness and disappointment etched across his features.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to collect herself. “What do you want, Harry?” As she finally spoke, her voice was timid and defeated, and as Harry’s voice boomed over, she jumped.

“I wanted to be first!” He shouted, veins popping out on his neck from the force. “I wanted you!” His chest was heaving, fully unloading his anger. “Every time I think about you, Y/N, my chest hurts. Like, like someone is stepping on it. Especially when I think about you with him! It’s killing me, and I thought, I-I thought that I could,” He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed, deciding he had shared enough. He said what he felt he had to say.

She didn’t really know what to say, taken aback by his outburst. “I’m-,” She managed before Harry decided he had enough. “I think you should leave.” He muttered, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Harry,” She tried, even going as far as to take a step closer to him. “Get out.” Whatever sorrow she thought he could be feeling was so clearly gone. Now, he stood in front of her, tense and angry.

“Leave! I’m tired of this!” I can’t trust you anymore.

“H-Harry, I can’t lea- m’not leaving.” She tried again, begging herself not to let the tears fall. “Now you’re crying?!” Harry barked, reaching up to move his hair from his eyes, tugging as his fingers reached the ends. Rage surged through his body, grabbing her keyring off the counter to take his home key.

He snatched his own keys off the hook to take her house key off, linking it back onto her keyring. “I’m dead serious, Y/N, leave.” He said, cursing himself at the way his voice shook. He knew how scary he could look when he got angry like this, catching a glimpse of his reflection one time in an argument at work.

After pushing her keys back into her hands, he opened the front door and waited, his teary and red-rimmed eyes trained to the ground in front of him. “I-I’ll, I’ll earn it back, Harry. I promise, I-I’ll get the key back.” She murmured, as she walked past him out the door reluctantly. “I swear I’ll prove it.”

Harry managed a small half smile that bordered on sarcastic through his blank stare, hoping she would but still doubtful. “I guess we’ll see.” He gritted, shutting the door immediately afterwards before the unshed tears creating a gloss over his eyes finally fell. Only standing there another few seconds before going back to the distraction of cleaning his apartment again.

“Jod?” She called, stumbling through her best friend's house while fumbling to put the keys in her pocket. “Jooooodddddd!” She giggled out, her vision fuzzed enough as it is without it being pitch black.

Jodie opened her bedroom door quickly, “Y/N? Is that you?” She mumbled, knuckling at her eyes to make sure it was in fact, her drunk best friend. “D’y’know it’s about four in the morning?” A giggle came from the kitchen, as well as some glasses clinking. “Is it?” Y/N hummed, finally finding the kitchen while blindly feeling around for the lightswitch. “Goooot iiiit.” She sang before flipping the light on.

Jodie grabbed a robe, tying it across her waist and shuffled down the hall. “Are you drunk?” A good question, as she was slurring her words while pouring up another drink from her cabinet. “Is Daphne ‘ere?” Y/N hummed, teetering to one side momentarily. “No. Why don’t y’sit down and we can talk about it?” Jodie tried again, reaching for her friend's arm to tug her into the living room.

As both the girls sat down, the room fell quiet. “Talked to erm- Harry.” Y/N muttered, lifting her glass to her lips for a sip. “And?” Jodie asked, leaning forward to lower the other girl's glass. “C’mon, s’just me, relax.” She pressed and frowned as she watched the girl shake her head, more to herself than to Jodie. Y/N scoffed, standing up again to look for her speaker. “It's just us here, right?” She asked again, and Jodie furrowed her brows. “Yes, Daph’s out for the night but I don’t see why that matt-” And suddenly she was cut off by music. “I knew I’d regret giving you the house key.” She muttered to herself, knowing the music was too loud for her friend to hear her.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Have t’say, I’ve seen this kind of behaviour before.” Jodie said after standing up to turn it down. “I talked to Harry.” She repeated, giggling as she did so. “He looked sad. Sooo, sooooo beautiful, but sad.” She sighed, pouting before sitting against the couch’s arm rest. “Everything they said, s’true.” She muttered, staring into her lap as she swirled the liquid around the glass. “Y/N…” Jodie began, “I don’t know where this is go-,” Jodie stopped, as she was interrupted again. “I’m a terri- ‘hiccup’ -terrible person.”

Jodie took a breath, and decided to try again. “Just because you made a bad decision, doesn’t make you a terrible person.” Jodie sighed, somewhat pleased she was able to finish her two cents as she leaned her head against her palm.

“Jodie?” Y/N murmured, hardly looking up from the glass in her lap. “Yeah?” Her friend answered, her head snapping up at the mere thought of her best friend opening up. (Or the exhaustion, it was nearly 4am after all.) “I think I missed my chance.” Y/N whimpered, “I mean, he hates me. I thought I was goin’ over there to tell him what we,'' a hiccup interrupting her, “we had talked about.” She hummed, taking a quick breath to continue. “Was not the case.” She breathed out, shaking her head sadly at the memory of the fight.

“Y/N, I don’t think he hates you.” Jodie repeated, sighing before leaning back against the couch cushions with a soft yawn. “Jod, I’ve never seen him so angry. Ever.” Y/N mumbled, playing with the rings on her fingers. “I’ve just been an awful, awful, person lately. And, I know s’late a-and I wouldn’t normally be here. Becos’ usually, I can go to ‘arry’s. But I fucked that up for m’self, didn’t I.”

“He’s hurt.” Jodie reminded again. “Y/N, you realise that you’ve become his own Mark?”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?” She gasped, and her friend forgave the dramatics, chalking it up to her level of intoxication. “Don’t ‘what’ me.” Jodie laughed, sighing after she caught her breath. “Seriously, you did damn near everything Mark did to you. Whether or not you meant to, is not the issue. You did it, and you need to make it right.” Y/N frowned, reaching for her glass again. Jodie sighed and lowered it again. “And, this? This is not how you make it right. Straighten yourself up. M’not letting you go down this road again, and definitely not when it's from your own doing.” She stood, taking the rocks glass and brought it to the kitchen. “Now, what kind of sandwich would you like?” She asked curtly, dumping the remnants of the glass in the sink before turning to open the fridge and fish out the necessary items. “I’d like you sober now.”

———

Now that Jodie had been certain she had somewhat sobered her friend up, she settled on the couch with a blanket strewn across her lap. Y/N was eating a carefully crafted turkey and brie toastie with a glass of water, laid across the other couch. The two girls were watching some of the ‘007 movie series to settle back down for the night. Jodie was undoubtedly closer to sleep than Y/N, but she didn’t mind staying up with her if it brought her friend some solace. Of all the times she could remember, (other than recent unfortunate events) Y/N had never let her down. Always there, even when her mother died, Jodie actually had to send her on random ‘quests’ to find some alone time in those first few months. “Jodie, I couldn’t imagine going through what you’re going through and keep the same…. Jodie-ness about you.” She’d said all those years ago. They were young, just freshly in the middle of their college careers. In all honesty, Jodie had stayed ‘Jodie’ because she had Y/N. As silly as her statement was at the time, it truly summarised her most valued friendship.

“What are you thinking about?” Y/N suddenly asked, and Jodie lifted her head, “Are you asking me?” She giggled, “You never ask!” She admitted when she received a ‘duh’ and Y/N shrugged, pursing her lips. “Well, you’ve been practically counselling me for the past week and a half and I haven’t asked. S’been eating at me for a while.” Y/N explained, watching as Jodie frowned. “I just, I know you’ve been dealing with a lot too. About the house and,” To her relief, Jodie cut her off. “That’s okay. Your little dilemma offers a much appreciated distraction if we’re being honest. I’ll be okay, I’ve got time.” She explained through another yawn. “You, however, are fucking up left and right hourly.” Jodie teased and somehow successfully dodged a throw pillow tossed her way.

“I wish you would just cry and that could be it. Y’have to get confusing and block everybody out.” Jodie huffed, cracking a smile at her friend who feigned shock. “Honestly!” She laughed, Y/N joining along. “I’m not doing it to push people away, I just hate to complain about something so trivial. I mean, Daphne’s moving for her new job, stressful. You have this house to worry about securing, I-I mean, I can’t leave a man alone if it killed me. All the while, mucking up a great relationship with a guy that actually cared about me enough to at least try and wait it out. That’s done with.” Y/N huffed, her face burying into her hands. “It’s just embarrassing, that this is my life issue.”

“Your life issue?” Jodie laughed, “I somehow doubt that this is it for you, Drama Queen.” She giggled again at the thought, shaking her head. “I’m gonna try to fall asleep, you nutcase. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Love you, Jodie.” Y/N hummed, standing to collect the plates and glasses to set down in the kitchen. The very least she could do was fix her kitchen back up after she barged in and woke her friend from a dead sleep.

—

When Daphne walked in the door the next morning and saw Y/N on the couch, she immediately stormed down the hall to Jodie’s room, who had gotten up just an hour prior to go to her bed. “Jodie!” She whispered, opening her door a crack to poke her head in. “Get up! Right now, get up!”

Jodie groaned, whining as she flipped over, pulling her pillow over her head. Daphne walked over to her bed and pulled the pillow away. “Y/N is on our couch!” She huffed, Jodie grumbling out, “Yes.”

“So! What is she doing here?!” Daphne huffed, setting her hands on her hips. “Christ, Daph, does it look like I’m alert and ready for the day?” She complained and Daphne pulled the blankets back. “I’m serious!”

“She got drunk and came over in the middle of the night, we talked and fell asleep. What is the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I’m pissed off at her! So I’d like to know if and when she’s here.” She explained, irritance written across her face. “And I still live here too!”

“Stop it, Daph! She wasn’t here for you, she was just here to talk. You weren’t even here last night.” Jodie grumbled, blindly reaching for her covers. “Well, I’m leaving. Text me when she leaves.” Daphne huffed, leaving Jodie’s room to duck into her own to collect the things she’d need for the day, showering and dressing before slipping back out the door. (She did, however pack a bag with her ‘daily essentials’, her hair and makeup products. She absolutely couldn’t risk taking any longer.)

“Thank you.” Jodie grumbled, before burying herself back against her bed.

—

“Hey you’re up! I was just getting my things to head out.” Y/N hummed at the sight of her tired looking friend.

“Yeah, might need another nap.” Jodie yawned, going to the fridge for a glass of water. “Daphne’s mad at you.” She added, turning to look at her friend. “I figured, she hasn’t been answering my texts.” Y/N sighed, taking her keys and wallet. “She ever tell you why?” She pried, chewing at her lip. “I mean, I know why, but,” She sighed again, shrugging.

“Well, s’the same shit. I’m assuming she’ll have to talk to me about it at some point. Dunno why shes so pro-Harry all of a sudden.” Jodie answered, “Thinkin’ she thinks this is her chance?”

“Not my business.” Her friend replied curtly, pressing her lips together before taking a step to the door. “Well, I convinced Cade to come pick me up to take me home and he’s here so, I’m just going to try and pretend everything's okay for a little while longer. I’ll see you later Jodie. Thank you, again, and m’sorry again for keeping you up.” Y/N apologised, before she stepped out to meet Cade at the end of her drive.

Jodie sighed, shutting the door and headed to the kitchen to start a kettle for some tea. It always put her in the mood for a nap. With her tea ready, she shuffled to the couch to collapse against it after carefully sitting the cup on the table in front of her. “Peace,” She hummed, “and quiet.” before settling for another rest.

Somehow she had spoken too soon, the front door was opened again and Jodie grumbled something incoherent about having been so close to sweet sleep. “Is she gone?” Daphne’s voice rang through the entryway. “Jesus Chr- Yes, Daph, she left about ten minutes ago! You practically passed her, how long are you gonna keep this up?”

“As long as I feel is necessary.” Daphne countered, heading to the kitchen to set her bags down. “What’s all this?” Jodie asked when she sat up, shuffling to the kitchen to look at what her housemate brought home from the store.

“Went out to the store, grabbed some stuff. Are you hungry? It’ll be some sort of an orzo pasta salad.” Daphne shrugged, pulling the ingredients out of the bags, as well as pulling out the necessary pots and utensils.

“I suppose,” Jodie yawned again. “Let me get cleaned up and dressed, I’ll help you.” She muttered, taking her tea to the room to shower and change. “No, no, get your rest, shouldn’t take too long. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” Daphne called as the other headed down the hall.

—

“And that’s it, it says, Chill overnight or serve as is.” Daphne read off her phone, “I’m hungry now, so as is it is.” She snickered to herself, setting her phone to the side to give a few final stirs before turning the burner off. “Jod! S’about ready, now or never! M’starving.” She called out, loud enough that she was sure her friend could hear her clearly. “Coming!” Daphne heard back, muffled as it was, as she began to run cold water over the orzo before mixing the vegetables, cheese cubes and dressing.

Before long, Jodie came down the hall with a swiftness. “Been smelling it for ages wondering when you’d call me down.” She hummed, “Looks amazing, Daph.” Jodie praised, taking the time to give her friend a good once over. “Hey,” Jodie began cautiously, “You okay?” Daphne huffed, cleaning up the counters' surface. “Yeah, Jod. I’m perfectly fine.” She sighed, disappointedly. “You could have at least let me accept your compliment before you dug into me.” She mused, rolling her eyes, worrying now that their lunch was ruined. Jodie stared at her for a moment, blinking every now and then. “You realise everything you’re currently doing is in fact not fine?”

“Okay, I’m not. It’s not like it matters. Nobody listens to me anyways.” Daphne grumbled, taking her seat after passing a bowl to Jodie. “What’s your problem then? You’ve been as irritable as ever for the past three days.” Jodie asked, her brows furrowed with confusion.

“Because! You baby her! Let her get off the easy way and she’s in the wrong. I don’t care if she cries or begs, she fucked up and she deserves to hear about it.” Daphne sighed, shaking her head gently in thought.

“Yeah, Daphne, but some people learn differently. How can you expect someone to learn from their mistakes if you throw them to the wind and never give them the chance to fix it?” Jodie asked, still leaned against the counter as she watched Daphne clear the kitchen and turn the light off to sit at the breakfast counter. “And, I don’t baby her.”

"Oh, come on. Why’d y’think she stuck with Mark? She likes playing games, and she doesn't care about the victims of those games; even when they're her own best friends." Daphne griped, finally taking a bite from her bowl. “I’m not sure why you act like she’s been like this for your entire friendship.” Jodie counters, both unimpressed and growing irritated with how her friend is speaking about their supposed shared friend.

“She practically has! She was always the nicest, the smartest, everybody loves her. Even while making the most colossal mistakes!” Daphne groaned, rolling her eyes. “I love her, I do, like I would my sister! But I make one measly misstep and I’m done for. It’s time she gets a little bit of reality.”

“There’s reality, and then there’s meanness.” Jodie shrugged, grabbing a spoon to sit down with her friend. “And Daph, you’ve made tons of measly mistakes, and the world never ended, nor did we ever throw you out.”

The group met at the Stumble close to a week and some days later, and the night was getting into its usual spring, with Cade drunk and slumped at the bar booth they sat at. Unfortunately, Cade lost another shot challenge to Jodie, as usual, and it had left him incapacitated for the evening.

With Daphne at the bar and Cade practically asleep, Y/N scooted closer to Jodie. “I fucked up.” She whispered and Jodie’s eyes widened, “Do not tell me you slept with Mar-,” Y/N shook her head quickly, watching for Daphne. “No! Nice vote of confidence, that, thanks. No, I went to Harry’s last night to drop off a pizza, he said he didn’t get to eat so I thought it’d be a peace offering.” Jodie nodded, leaning in closer to hear her better. “He had a girl over.” Y/N murmured, watching as Jodie’s eyes widened again. “Harry did?!” She practically shouted, “Yes, shh! Not too loud, Daphne’s coming back. Mums the word, Jod, I mean it.” Y/N winced at the memory, reliving the humiliation all over again before shooting a glare at her friend and straightened up as Daphne began walking back over.

“What are you doin’ ’ere, Y/N?” He hushed, his breath leaving him at the sight of her. She had a box of pizza in her arms and a hopeful smile. “Y’said you hadn’t ate today, thought I’d bring some pizza for you.” She explained, her eyes holding his for a minute before she began feeling her cheeks heat up. As she looked around to avoid his stare, she caught sight of a jacket on the coat rack and a thin silked scarf. Brown leather, that looked far too small to fit around his broad shoulders. Harry’s stomach dropped, and he felt his mouth go dry. “Thank you, but uh, s’not really a good time. Could I call you tomorrow?” His heart was hammering, thumping through his eardrums. Y/N could feel herself deflate, putting the pieces together. His hair wasn’t dishevelled from napping, he had a girl over and she was interrupting their date. Her eyes widened and she began nodding, “Yeah! No worries,” She assured him and handed him the pizza box. Harry felt like he could die right there, his arms taking the box from her out of shock. Why tonight? Of all nights?

“It’s for you, I uh, already ate.” Come on now, Y/N. Just get out of there already! “Er, right. Talk to you tomorrow.” She muttered again and awkwardly turned to get back down the driveway to her car, walking as fast as she could without obviously running.

Harry watched as she retreated back to the car and groaned, shutting the door. “Everything alright?” His brown haired guest asked, coming down his stairs in one of his shirts. They had hardly gotten very far, really. The doorbell chiming just as the woman, Claire?, had broken their makeout to remove her shirt. Harry sighed, looking to the box and grumbled. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He managed to make the trip to the kitchen and set the box down on the island. “You ordered a pizza?” She asked, coming up behind him to look from around his shoulder, before taking a sip of her wine. Harry tensed and rolled his shoulders back to get her off them. “Sorta,” He sighed, ”Listen, m’really sorry, but I’m not feeling too well. Could I order a ride share to come pick you up?” He asked, feeling as though his legs were cemented to the floor under him. Her eyebrows furrowed, and he could tell how awkward the air got. “Uh, sure? Are you alright, Harry?”

“Er, not really, m’so sorry but,” He sighed, shaking his head at himself. “I’ll help you grab your things.” He murmured, picking his phone up to order a ride for her. The woman, looking very confused, began to gather her things and slip her boots on. “Did I do something wrong?” She paused when she got to the doorway, looking at him for some better explanation. “No, no, really, believe me. It’s my fault. I’ll give you a call.” He added, chewing at his lip just desperate to get this girl out of his home.

“Anyone know if Harry’s coming by tonight?” Y/N asked, sipping cautiously at her drink as she watched her friends turn their attention to her. She really just wanted to apologise to him for intruding and that she hoped it didn’t ruin his night, as crushing as that reality felt. There was a lot she wanted to apologise for, the list just keeps growing by the day.

Daphne giggled as she returned, clearly having just caught her question. “Well, I imagine he has other friends, Y/N. He’s probably out with them.” She snipped, setting the drinks on the table and took her seat next to her date she decided to bring along impromptu. Y/N grimaced at her answer, of course he has other friends, lots of other friends.

The two girls haven't been on the best of terms, hardly speaking to one another if Daphne didn’t have something snarky to say. Jodie tried her best to dispute any minor arguments, for the sake of the two's friendship. They’ve butted heads before but they’d also gotten over worse situations. The fact that Daphne seemed to be going out of her way to bring it up, had Jodie on edge the past week. And Harry hadn’t texted Y/N nor had he really been seen in the same amount of time. The last time he came out with the group, he had to leave early after he began introducing the group to a random girl he met by the bar that looked a lot like Y/N, even going as far to introduce her as The Nice Y/N, the poor thing, after having a bit too much to drink. From then on, if he did come out, he never stayed long.

“Chill out, Daph.” Jodie spoke up, eyes practically searing at Daphne. “Y’sound jealous.” She giggled, playing it off as a joke effortlessly for her date whose eyes went wide at the accusation.

Most of the group rolled their eyes, preparing for another gruesome catfight between the two girls. Peace was found few and far between nowadays, Daphne just wouldn’t drop it.

The truth was, Harry was out with some of his other friends. A rehearsal party for a wedding in Italy to be exact. One he had planned to take Y/N to when he got the invitation a few months or so prior, but, well… that played out the way it did all on its own.

So, as he sat on his own at the full service open bar, making friends with the hired bartender. “Think I can get another one of those pomegranate things, mate?” Harry asked, having just finished his first drink. “What’s in it, by the way?” The bartender smiled, setting out the bottles he used for the drinks. “Bit of Prosecco, the pomegranate liqueur, and some white rum. Garnish and whatever else.” He shrugged. “Agli sposi è piaciuto molto.” Harry sighed and nodded, taking the drink besides not knowing what he had actually said. “Salute” He said before taking a big gulp. “Make that two of these.” He gritted, raising his glass.

———

“So, did you come here with someone?” Harry asked, staring into his glass. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been sitting on the ground with…Luca, and Luca, as he found out, didn’t speak great English, but he’d been doing well thus far. And surely, it could’ve gone smoother had alcohol not been involved.

Luca’s brows furrowed, shaking his head at him. Harry frowned, trying to remember some basic keywords he tried to learn while on the plane. “Erm…fidanzata?” Harry tried and Luca nodded, turning his head to look for his girlfriend. “Mia ragazza, Vita, è seduta lì. Over there.” Luca repeated in his best English after noticing Harry’s confused look. “Ahh, ‘Ve got a girl, whooo, by the way,” He mused as he sat on the floor by the bar, leaning against the wall for stability. His head falling heavy on his neck as he gave in to his memory, those pomegranate things…or whatever they were seemed to be working their way through him. “Would’ve looked gorgeous tonight. Could’ve outdone the bride-to-be.” He hummed, lifting his head to take another gulp of his drink and loosen the tie around his neck. “Probably best I didn’t bring ‘er after all, isn’t it?” He laughed out, letting his heavy head fall back again, his hand coming up to run a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Would’ve left early, back to the ‘otel,” He hummed, his eyes fluttering closed, “Jesus Christ, she’d give the sloppiest blowj-“ He was interrupted by a sudden weight at his knees. When Harry quickly opened his eyes and looked down, a dog had laid its head on his lap.

As he looked around, the guy he thought he was talking to from the groom’s side was nowhere to be found. “I thought we were bonding, Luca!” Harry laughed out to nobody, his hands scratching behind the dog's ears. “S’a good thing you stopped me, far too young to hear about all that yet. Where’d you even come from?” He laughed to himself.

To: Y/N

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N turned over in her bed, her phone buzzing on her bedside table had lifted her out of her pathetic half sleep. She grumbled to herself in annoyance, knuckling at her tired eyes before pushing herself up in the bed. Finding the lamp's knob to turn it on, she reached over to grab her phone.

*Message from Harry*

Her brows furrowed, rubbing at her eyes again to clear her hazy vision before unlocking her phone to view the message.

From: Harry

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N let out an involuntary giggle, trying to ignore the daunting question forming in her head as she wondered what exactly that dog got to hear.

She stared at the message for a while, glancing at the time before tapping on the character field to type out her reply.

To: Harry

am I supposed to laugh? because that’s funny

I hope he didn’t bill you for the therapy

Harry chortled embarrassingly as he read her text, staggering down the hall of his hotel until he got to his door. The shock that he normally would have felt, had he not drank as much as he had, was nowhere to be found. If he was sober, he’d surely not have sent any text whatsoever like he bad been doing. He just missed her, annoyingly. Nevermind the aches and pains from the memory, apparently, going more than a week without talking to her hurts more. He rolls his eyes at that, “Go figure.” He muttered to himself.

Once the door was unlocked and opened, he trudged inside, yanking at his tie to slide it off his neck while looking at her reply. “Y’could’ve been here wiv’me.” He mumbled to himself, sighing as he toed off his dress shoes, stepping out to the balcony for a few quick puffs of a cigarette to ease his nerves. Cefalù, Sicily seemed to have gone quiet for the night, apart from some clubs and bars, and a few stragglers still at the beach, surprisingly quieter than he had expected. Harry sighed, looking over the view as he took a drag, snubbing it out and tossing it in the trash before dipping back inside to finish getting undressed for bed.

His thumbs fiddled around his keyboard for a few minutes, and he decided to send whatever echoed in his head, pressing send before another moment could go by and began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

To: Y/N

I wish you could be here.

He had only sent the message just over a minute ago but the anticipation was eating away at him, nevermind the fact that he was pretty drunk from the four, or was it five? He lost track after the conga line. Needless to say, the pomegranate drinks did their job well.

His thumb immediately hit the call button, putting it to speakerphone as he attempted again to undo his buttoned dress shirt. One ring, two rings, three… four… Is this a bad idea?

“Harry?” He could hear her whisper, and he held his breath. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. She sounded like she was asleep and he brought his hands up to rub across his face. “Shit, m’sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’ about if you’d been asleep.” He started but Y/N was quick to cut him off. “No, m’not, I haven’t,” She sighed, starting her sentence again with an amused giggle. “I hadn’t been to sleep yet.”

Harry hummed, taking a seat on his temporary bed for the remainder of the week. “Havin’ trouble?” He asked hesitantly. She snickered, propping her pillows upright so she could lean against them. “Something like that.”

There was a few seconds of silence, the both of them somehow content with the knowledge that the other was there.

“Did you have something to say, Harry?” She asked timidly, unsure why he was calling her at 3am. She could hear him take in a deep breath on the other line, and she sunk further into her bed as she waited anxiously. “N-Not that I’m trying to get off the call, o-or anythin,” Harry laughed, effectively stopping her rambling. “I really don’t have anything else to say.” He admitted as laid himself down, and tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his stomach when she giggled.

“Why? Because you said it all to a dog already?” She giggled out, the line on the other end going quiet, deathly quiet.

—

“Did you mute me to laugh? Or were you just acting like I was funny this whole time?” She countered, her eyebrows furrowing.

A faint click was heard and Harry’s giggling voice rang through the phone again. “As if you know me.” He laughed out, sighing as he relaxed on the bed. She giggled, pursing her lips as she thought of anything else to keep the conversation going. “Oh! How was the wedding?”

Harry hummed, exhaling as he prepared to answer. “S’tommorow, so we’ll be expected to be fully sober and prepared. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner, or party, or whatever they called it. M’hopin they’ll have more of that pomegranate drink they had tonight.” Y/N snickered, thankful they were on the phone so he couldn’t see the stupid grin plastered across her lips. “I wanted you here with me.” She could hear him murmur and sighed at his admission, her eyes shutting closed as she laid on her bed. “I hope m’not keeping you up.” He spoke again, suddenly remembering there was a time zone difference. Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “No! No, you’re only an hour ahead, Harry. I’m technically keeping you up.”

“Have I mentioned how beautiful it is here? I know m’pretty trashed, but seriously. The pictures don’t do it justice.” She had seen the pictures, the sunsets, the meals, the giggly videos uploaded to a story she was somehow still allowed to see.

Y/N sighed, staring at her ceiling as she listened. “I can imagine, are you near the beach?” She hummed, tucking her legs up closer under the covers so she could turn slightly to look out her window; a true fashioned England thunderstorm was reaching its peak. “Well, I’ve got a slight view where our hotel is, but the wedding will be closer when we head that way tomorrow evening.” He hummed, finally laying in his own bed.

“It’s raining here, thundering, actually.” She sighed, her bottom lip tucking under her teeth as she looked to twirl her rings around her fingers. Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. There were a few nights that they spent together during a storm, some of the best time he’d argue they ever had. The house would inevitably get colder, and they’d have food prepared, movies downloaded and flashlights nearby. Harry would get a fire going in the fireplace, and they’d sit on the couch with all their snacks, waiting the storm out.

Here comes the ache. It felt like shutting down, the way his brain cut that train of thought, the memories. He shouldn’t have called. “I can imagine.” Harry repeated, a low rasp settling in his voice as exhaustion began to set in his body. “Harry?” He heard her soft voice through the receiver, her tone letting him know what was coming. “Y’ought to get some sleep, Y/N.” He sighed, reaching up to turn his light out.

“I’ve tried.” She murmured, clearing her throat after a moment of silence. “Well, try again.” He hummed, setting an arm behind his head. She snickered herself before laying back down in her bed. “Yeah. Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry frowned, brows knitted together before uttering out “Goodnight.” just before the call ended.

“I’m tellin’ you, all of a sudden everyone was gone, and it was just me and the dog!” Harry laughed out, leaning back against the backrest of the booth, listening to the confusion and laughter spread amongst the group.

He looks so good. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Italy did him well, a full tan across his skin. He was truly glowing. Thank God he was telling a story so no one else would notice her absolutely staring at him. And she wished she could pay attention to what he was saying, because everyone was hysterical around her. So much so, that now it was clear she hadn’t been paying attention. She faked a laugh, looking around at everyone else in order to gauge just how funny the conversation got.

“And you didn’t realise everyone was leaving?” Jodie laughed out, a little more than skeptical at his story. “Or the lights dimming?! Music stopping?” Harry laughed and shook his head, “Not at all! Hand over my heart, s’them drinks! Which, I’ll be recreating as best I can because they were phenomenal.” He sighed, going over (to the best of his ability, in hindsight he probably shouldve asked the bartender to just write the ingredients down) what was put in those drinks.

“Italy was beautiful, I mean, everything was gorgeous. The food, the villages, I mean, my God.” Harry sighed, his hand placed over his heart. “I’ll miss it.”

Y/N was busy with her drink when she felt a nudge under the table. Her head snapped up, finding Jodie who had locked eyes with her, a smirk placed on her lips before mouthing ‘worldly experience’. A small gesture to cheer her up, something she had always loved about Jodie. Nevertheless, Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. ‘Rub it in, why don’t you?’ She mouthed back.

“You’d all love it. We ought to rent out a place for a week and all us of go together.” Harry suggested, reaching for his glass to finish off. “Have t’say, wasn’t the same without you guys.”

“Let’s just crash our own wedding.” Cade offered, snickering as he was probably already drunk. “I don’t know anyone getting married, Cade, do you?” Daphne asked, shaking her head at him. “Doesn’t have to be someone we know, Daph,” Jodie piped up, “you’re supposed to check out venues, times and all that. If there's a wedding event, then you go. That’s a properly crashed wedding.”

“But they wouldn’t recognise us! They’d escort us away immediately.” Daphne argued with a huff. “Yeah, but anyone that asks, you just tell ‘em that you’re a friend of either side. Family doesn’t really care about the friends part of the invited.” Cade explained, holding his head up. “Tell ‘em Y/N. She’s done it before.” He grumbled, “If y’dont believe me.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head at Cade before sliding a glass of water over to him. “We have done it before,” She replied, gesturing between herself and Jodie. “Nobody bothered us.” She shrugged, before standing. “I think Mr. Man over here, needs a burger and chips.” She giggled, Jodie standing as well. “I’ll go with you. Anyone need a top off?” Jodie asked, looking around the group for the show of hands. “Not you, Cade.” She laughed out, before the two made the trip to the bar for the tables orders.

“So,” Jodie started, leaning against the bar while waiting for the bartender to finish their serve. “So?” Y/N laughed out, shrugging her shoulders as she scanned the menu items for a decent burger for Cade. “Sooooo, have you talked to Harry?” She asked again, wriggling her brows at her with a giggle. “Christ, Jod.” Y/N laughed and shook her head, “No, nothing since the phone call.” She sighed and pursed her lips, “Think he’d do that onion and bacon cheeseburger?” Y/N asked, trying to change the topic. “Cade would eat styrofoam if you handed it to him, now, are you planning on talking to Harry?” Jodie pried again, rolling her eyes as Y/N grinned at the bartender, relaying the orders to ignore the question again.

When the barman shot off, Jodie huffed and tapped on her friend's shoulder. “Er, Hello? M’talkin t’you here, sweets.” Y/N groaned, tipping her head back, “What do I say to him, Jodie? Hey, remember our phone call when you were slaughtered after living it up in Italy? Ooh, or, My God, Harry you look great! I wish I wasn’t such a nonce, and we could’ve gone together!?” Y/N rolled her eyes, “No thanks, really, m’fine.”

“Not really a bad start is it? And, you still haven’t talked to him about the pizza incident.” Jodie reminded, watching the bartender talk to the cook in the back. Y/N sighed, her eyes shutting. “Jodie, please..” She breathed and Jodie scoffed, “Don’t give me that, I think he should’ve at least mentioned leaving for a week, after whatever that was. He never explained himself to you.” She asked and Y/N shook her head, “And he doesn’t have to, I had no business being there, and if I had just kept to myself then I’d never have known anyone was with him that night. So, please. I’d like to drop it.”

Jodie sighed, collecting the drinks tray as Y/N reached for Cade’s food before they made their way back to the table, Jodie uttering a quiet, “If you say so...”

“Well, Harry told me earlier that the same night he had Carina over, Y/N had showed up with a pizza.” Daphne murmured to the table, consisting of Jodie, Cade, and Daphne’s date for the night. Jodie’s eyes widened and carefully slipped her phone out to send a message. The group had just arrived at the bar after a pregame party at Jodie and Daphne’s to celebrate Daphne’s birthday, and Harry had just stepped out to the bathroom, thankfully.

To: Y/N

Daphne knows about Pizza Night

“While Harry was with her?” Cade asked, his brows knitted together in confusion. “No, you idiot,” Daphne laughed, “He said she just showed up with a box of pizza while he had my friend Carina over.” She explained and snickered again when she finished. “Why is that funny?” Jodie asked, her tone quick and sharp as she dug in her bag for her lipstick.

“Guess it’s not funny, just, er, unideal.” She giggled again, shrugging her shoulders in response, to which Jodie rolled her eyes. She’d never known Daphne to be so petty in her life, and she couldn’t stand to see it. Just as she was going to correct her friend, Y/N had come bursting through the front doors.

“What took you so long? Ordering pizza?” Daphne snickered as she watched Y/N rush in haphazardly to get to her seat. “No,” Y/n snapped, setting her coat and bag down to the inside of the booth. “Had to take care of some things, my car’s been acting up so I had just now gotten to pick it up from the mechanic.” She breathed, sitting down finally with her forefinger and thumb pinching at a throbbing nerve at the bridge of her nose. “Had to call three rideshares, the first two just never showed up. It’s just been,” Y/N sighed, trailing off as another throb derailed her train of thought. “Well, lemme get you a drink, babes.” Jodie offered, ignoring the wave of Y/N’s dismissive hand as she got up anyway to fetch her friend a drink.

“Ought to get some sleep, all those headaches.” Daphne chirped, shrugging her shoulders as she sipped at her own drink. “Never known you to be late for my birthday.”

Y/N sighed, nodding, “I know, and m’sorry Daph, really. Happy Birthday.” She muttered before sliding over the gift she somehow managed to pick up before the shop closed. “V’been so stressed lately, wasn’t sure if you’d like it but there's a gift receipt if you want to exchange it.” She explained breathily. No matter how bad they had been fighting lately, a birthday is a birthday. A silly promise they made all those years ago but something Y/N took to heart.

“A birthday is a birthday.” Jodie raised her glass to the air, huffing as her friends stared at her before bursting out into laughter. “C’mon, it’s a toast, you idiots!” Jodie groaned as they began to laugh harder. “To what?!” Daphne gasped out in between giggles. “That no matter where we are, different time zones or with one another, mad or not; a birthday is a birthday. And y’can’t miss it.” Y/N wiped her eyes and clutched her stomach, an attempt to calm herself down.

“S’not bad, actually.” She hummed, raising her glass as well before looking at Daphne. “Come on!” Jodie coaxed, grinning as the third rolled her eyes playfully, lifting her arm in the air to gently tip against the others' glasses. “A birthday is a birthday!” Daphne grinned, the three girls knocking their shots back to begin their night.

Daphne’s eyes widened for a moment, reaching across to accept the bag. “I- Thank you.” She breathed out, pursing her lips as she set the gift to the side.

Harry had emerged from the bathroom, stilling slightly when he saw Y/N had in fact made it before continuing to the seat. “You look exhausted.” He said, a frown pulling at his lips at the sight of how tired she actually looked. “I know, I know, they’ve said so.” She sighed, straightening up as Jodie came back with her drink and a chip and wings platter for Cade. “Thank you, I’m poor at the moment.” Y/N laughed, reaching into the chips pile.

“Are you sleeping well?” Jodie asked, nudging her friend's shoulder when she shook her head no. “Keep waking up throughout the night. Might need a new pillow or something.” Y/N explained, sipping quickly at her drink and hoping the conversation would venture elsewhere.

“Maybe if you weren’t showing up at random times to peoples houses-,” Daphne started again, only opening her mouth once more before Y/N lifted her head to look at her. She couldn’t really be this mean? “Then perhaps you’d getting better sleep.” She finished, and Harry froze, swallowing thickly. He never meant for Daphne to use it as informational ammo. Harry cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he prepared to intervene but Y/N had beat him to it after finishing what was left in her glass.

“Are you done?” Y/N cut, glaring at her. “Shut up about it already, okay?”

“Touchy.” She quipped, giggling as she glanced at Harry. Y/N rolled her eyes, excusing herself from the group to get the next round of drinks.

“I like when Daphne drinks.” Cade laughed when he was sure Y/N was out of earshot earning a smack on the arm from Jodie. Daphne grinned, pretending to fan herself at the praise. “Happy Birthday, to me.” She hummed, reaching for a shot from the centre and downing it. “Wasn’t really that big of a deal, was it? Some advice and she takes off.”

“Y’have to love the theatrics, though.” Harry added, shrugging as he reached over to down a shot as well. Jodie huffed and leaned back in her seat, her legs crossed one over the other as she braced herself to tell the whole group off. “Hardly theatrics, isn’t it.” Said Jodie, as she couldn’t take much more of the banter. “Well, she stormed off over nothing.” Harry huffed and Jodie's eyes widened. “Nothing?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes again. “Don’t act stupid, Harry, you know what Daphne was getting at, and you!” She glared at Daphne, sneering at her even. “That’s far too low for you, you’ve got more class than that.” She added, leaving Daphne with her mouth hung agape.

“S’a fucking ploy, Jod. So, she’s a lil’ embarrassed, she’ll be fine.” Harry reluctantly replied, his eyes darting at the rest of the table as a silent plea for help.

“Oi, I hear her crying in the middle of the night, Harry. S’hardly a ploy. You, of all people, should know what I’m talking about.” Harry, of course, did know immediately what she was talking about, and it made him sick. The first time they got together, what started it all. So long ago, but somehow still as bittersweet as it was now, it was the happiest time of his life. Before he knew, before it was ruined. His jaw clenched, thinking back at it now and remembering it’s not his fault.

“I’ve cried too, Jod!” He argued, his chest beginning to feel the far too familiar ache. Jodie rolled her eyes, with a sarcastic laugh. “It’s your doing! Both of you! Harry, you could very easily get all this over and done with a simple yes or no. Just rip the bloody bandage off already. We all know what Y/N did, and I don’t know why Daph’s so set on making it ten times worse. I don’t feel bad for you, for anyone!” She argued, crossing her arms over her chest. “And Daphne, just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you get a free bitch pass, not from me anyway.” Jodie finished, leaving Daphne to grumble her response. “You all suck. I want new friends.” Jodie huffed at that, cracking a small smile to ease the tension. “I expect to hear apologies in the next coming days. Cade, you too!” Jodie sneered, grabbing from the chip pile to toss at him, “What did I do?!” He whined, groaning when Daphne grabbed some of the fallen ones to toss at him too. “Shut Up, Cade.”

Jodie sighed, feeling the weight loft from her shoulders now that she’d spoken her mind. “She’s not even there anymore, I don’t see her.” Jodie grumbled as she turned to scan the bar area. “Lemme…” She trailed off, pushing her chair from the table to get up and find her.

When she got to the bar and tried explaining what Y/N was wearing to the barman, she caught a glimpse of her dress in the outside area. “That’s okay, think that’s her outside, thank you anyway.” She said over the music, grabbing for the made drinks and hurried out the door.

“Y/N?” She started, quietly and sighed as her friend's head tipped backwards at the acknowledgement of her presence. “It’s fine, Jodie.” She breathed out. “No it is not. You were supposed to be at the bar, know better than to just disappear.” She scolded, setting the tray of drinks on one of the iron wrought tables sitting on the stone patio, sprawled each way for any patrons needing a smoke break or fresh air.

“Didn’t disappear, paid for the order and thought I’d earned a smoke break. I’ve been running around all day, stressing. Thought tonight would be a nice peaceful distraction, but nooo, not as long as Miss Perfect is around.”

“Miss Perfect,” Jodie laughed at that, “Really, you both act like you’ve never been friends in your life! Over what? Mark of all things?” she added exasperatedly.

“Yeah, well, I tried being nice. Tried a birthday is a birthday, she doesn’t care. Harry doesn’t care, m’over it. I fucked up, and it’s done with. M’tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying to mend my mistake. Feels like beatin’ a dead horse. So, so, so fuck it.” She rasped, bringing her arms around herself as she took another drag. “Fuck it.” Jodie repeated and sighed, “Alright, well, I’ll leave you to yourself then.” And Y/N spitefully laughed out, “Yes, Thank you!” before turning her head to the door to find Jodie had already left.

—

“Did you find her?” Cade asked, lifting his head as Jodie returned with the forgotten tray of drinks. “Yes.” She griped, setting the tray down and returning to her seat. Daphne and Cade carefully reached over for their drinks, watching as Jodie glared at Harry who kept his head down.

Cade nudged Harry, “What?” Harry barked, annoyed he was shaken out of his thoughts. Cade glanced to Jodie and then away again, acting like he heard his name from behind him. “O-Oh, h-hey…. Charlie, haven’t seen you in a while!” He said before scrambling away to the back of the pub.

“What?!” Harry asked again incredulously and Jodie rolled her eyes and pointed to the outside area. “Fix. It. Now.” Harry groaned, pursing his lips. “She doesn’t want to talk with me.” He tried and jumped when Jodie gave a swift kick to his shin under the table. “Alright, alright…” He winced, standing carefully with a slight limp as he hobbled to the side door.

As he opened the door, he brought his arms around himself at the feel of the bite from the wind. And upon a short glance around, he saw her toeing at the cobblestone in the back corner, half burnt cigarette in hand that desperately needed ashed off. He sighed, a little too loudly as she had jumped, spinning around with a hand to her chest. “Jesus, you scared me.” She admitted, and Harry could see she’d had herself a little cry.

“Hey.” He mumbled, his hands shoved into his pockets to keep from pulling her into his arms. He really hated to see her so upset, “You okay?”

“Oh, m’fine, Harry. Thanks.” She huffed, taking another drag of her cigarette after she turned back away from him. “Really, for everything. S’nothing for you to worry about.” She snipped, gritting her teeth together. “I’ll guess, Jodie sent you.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Y/N, about the other night,” He began, taking a step closer. “I, it wasn’t, well-,” He struggled, pursing his lips tight. “S’fine, Harry. Daphne’s right, I shouldn’t have just shown up. Wasn’t my place to do so.” Y/N interrupted, shaking her head. She just didn’t want to know, she felt stupid to have tried a stunt like that to begin with. But Harry continued anyway, “A-and, I didn’t think she’d use it like that when I told her, and! We weren’t like, making fun of you. I was just venting, I felt awful. The timing of it, it was just, it was awful.” He finished, watching her carefully as his hands dug into the material of the pocket of his trousers.

“And, I wanted to erm,” he added, looking at his shoes and began to fuss with a loose cobblestone. “I wanted to apologise, for how I acted the other day. Well, really, days ago now. Er, I know, I wasn’t exactly fair.”

“Please don’t apologise, Harry, I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course a simple sorry wouldn’t have fixed it. I just, I talked with Jodie about it and it- it all hit me that I had it all wrong. And,” She sighed, shrugging it off. “I fucked up, a-and, it’s done for, so, if we could swiftly just er- try and forget?” Her voice began to shake, her lips quivering as she struggled to get the words out. Harry frowned, taking another step closer. “Y/N, I don’t want to forget.” His voice was strong and sure, and she groaned in frustration, “Cor, Harry, I’m so confused.”

Harry grumbled a bit to himself, “Look, just, come back inside. We’ve got all of our friends inside. S’Daphne’s birthday, possibly her last with us, yeah?” He tried to reason, to get her mind of it. He loved her, yes, but he wasn’t quite ready to forgive and forget either. He wanted the opportunity for the pair to get their frustrations out, the dramatic side of him needed to get to the bottom of this. Whether it meant he had to yell, and hear her yell too. He felt it was the most raw way to get to the solution of an argument. Or maybe that he needed to hear that she cared about losing him as badly as he did. That she’d been as miserable as he was.

Y/N stayed quiet, chewing at the inside of her lip. “Know it’s her birthday an’all but, fuck Daphne right now.” Harry laughed a little, reaching a hand out to her. “Come back in, s’bloomin’ cold out here.” She sighed and tipped her head back. “I don’t know, Harry. Think I should just go home.” She admitted, reaching through her bag for her phone. “Noo, really. Stay, please.” He shifted closer and grabbed her bag. “So Jodie won’t chop me up into a million pieces? Because she’s really scaring me.” He added and glanced back through the door to see Jodie staring at them through the glass. Y/N laughed and shook her head fondly at her friend, “She’s come a long way to get that intimidating,” and with a heavy sigh, “yeah, c’mon. it is cold.” Before she could take a step towards the door, Harry stopped her. “We will, talk later, y’know,” He assured, swallowing thickly as he ran a hand through his hair; a poor attempt to retain his newly set boundaries, he thinks. “Later?” She repeated, her brows knitted together. “Yeah, later, s’alot to say, wouldn’t you agree?” He grumbled, something of a curse was all she could make out, yet seemingly annoyed with himself. “I-I do…” She mumbled, even more uneasy than before somehow. “Plus, we’d better head in before the Birthday Girl gets drunk before we do.” He added and Y/N laughed, still uneasy but shrugged it off all the same. “Later works with me, yeah.”

[part i.] [part ii.]

(a/n: WOW its here, and dont even let me BEGIN on tumblr’s mobile editing format bc it SUCKS!! anyway! sorry again for the long wait, and i hope your patience is rewarded with the third part!!! xxx as always, feedback and comments are always appreciated!)

[findmeintheferns]

sweet dreams

fuck me like you missed me then

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: y/n can’t sleep, how could she? she had gotten so used to ellie fcking her every night before bed. since ellie and cat were back together they can’t anymore. uno because that would be wrong, right? right???

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: angst, smut (oral sex, fingering), apologies if there is typos i got sick of rereading this lol

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1.5k

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: ellie williams (TLOU) x reader

————

You had tried everything, you mediated, downed 2 cups of chamomile tea, took a warm shower, read. Hell, you even counted sheep for a solid 15 minutes to no avail. You just could not sleep. Usually you wouldn’t really care that much, you enjoyed your quiet time and would spent the night finishing a book or watching whatever movie you could scavenge from crumbling houses. Nighttime was really the only time you could be alone. However tomorrow you had patrol at 5am and you didn’t really love the idea of no sleep before that. You stared at the clock as the hand crept closer and closer to the early hours of the morning.

“That’s it. Fuck it.” you groaned in frustration, pushing yourself off your couch and marching towards the door. You knew deep down this wasn’t a great idea, but you were desperate. It was freezing outside, you didn’t even bother to put on a jacket before making your way to Ellie’s. You see, the past few months between you and her had been kinda awkward. You were best friends since Ellie and Joel had returned from Salt Lake City. You met her during a rough time, and you bonded over that. She was the first person you ever did a patrol with, you know, without a group. You always knew there was something more there, you just didn’t act on it. However when Ellie and Cat went on their first ‘break’ you slipped up. The two of you had been drinking alone in her room, she couldn’t stop complaining about her ex and you were getting fed up of hearing about it. You didn’t like Cat in the first place, and the idea of making her jealous lit a fire in you, one didn’t know was there before. Ellie was mid sentence, saying something along the lines of, “And you know what fucking gets me? She says that I should cut YOU out of my life because you secretly want me blah blah blah yet she’s always with stupid Bailey, the one person I know for a fact wants to fuc-“ you cut her off, pressing your lips against hers and making her shut up. She pulled away, looking kinda shocked. That shock however didn’t last long because about 2 seconds later she was pulling you into her lap by your tank top and roughly kissing you back. After that incident you continued to fuck for a few weeks, spending almost every night in her bed or her in yours. The problem was you didn’t talk about it, probably because you knew it was wrong. You’d simply wait for one another the second it got dark out to show up at the door and then spend a solid chunk of the night having the best sex of your life. This was up until a week ago, which is when you noticed Cat desperately trying to fix things with Ellie.

“Wait- y/n, don’t go. I don’t understand?” Ellie quickly followed after you as you made your way to the door.

“Cat wants you back Ellie, come on we can’t keep doing this.” You grab the door handle but Ellie’s hand grabs yours, stopping you from being able to twist it. You make eye contact with her and sigh.

“Why does it matter if she wants me back?” she asks, confused.

You push her hand off yours, aggressively opening the door.

“You clearly want her too, you shouldn’t ruin your chances by continuing something that’s purely just sex.”

You don’t give her a chance to reply, you don’t even look at her face, scared that her expression will convince you she’s feeling something she’s not. You didn’t have the balls to tell her how you actually felt, like how you wish you were hers instead of Cat, or how you were scared to take it any further because you couldn’t risk losing her as a friend. From then on you had barely been talking, she seemed kinda pissed off at you actually. Plus her and Cat were back together, so yeah, you knew it was the wrong thing to do, but you no longer gave a fuck. You reach her door and gently knock three times, wondering if she’ll even be awake to hear it. Suddenly a sleepy, groggy Ellie opens the door, looking puzzled.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” she mumbled staring at you with confusion. You don’t waste anytime making your way into her room and slamming the door shut.

“Y/n I don’t understa-“ You cut her off again, grabbing her face and pressing her lips to yours. You expect her to get angry at you but instead she returns the kiss even more rough then you were. Before you know it she has pushed you onto the bed, her lean but muscular body on top of yours. You moan at the sight of her, she’s wearing a singlet with with no bra, so you can see how hard her nipples are already. Her hair is a little messy, probably from sleep, but still looks good somehow. She practically tears your shirt off you and moves her kisses from your lips down your neck and to your breasts. You gasp at the feeling of her lips on your chest as she intently sucks your nipples, making your whole body tingle. You pull on her hair and she lets out a moan, moving back to your lips. You’ve made out for too long, you need more, you grind against her leg and she retaliates, pressing her thigh into your clit. You grab her singlet and pull it off without hesitating. You begin unbuttoning her pants however you’re interrupted by her raspy voice.

“Wait, wait, wait, Y/n. Are we really doing this?” she says, clearly out of breath.

“I mean, only if you want to” you shrug

“I want to. I really want to. But i’m confused, you told me to get back with Cat? You made it clear that what we had was just sex, are you just really horny because if that’s the cas-“

You press you finger to her lips.

“Ellie, come on did you really think this was just sex to me? I hate Cat, I envy her. I’ve wanted you since we were 15 but I couldn’t risk losing you. I just can’t pretend anymore.”

You watch Ellie’s face carefully, scared that what she’ll say next will cause you two to never speak again. Instead she softly rubs her fingers on against your cheek.

“I really wish you told me earlier, we wasted so much time. I missed you this last week, a lot.” she sighs.

You are so relieved you could actually cry, but now is not the time for that.

“Fuck me like you missed me then.” you don’t have time to say anything else, because the second you finished your sentence Ellie has lifted you up and roughly placed you on top of her hips so that you are straddling her as she lays down. Your lips reconnect and you grind down hard.

“I need you” you moan, drunk on the how good this feels.

“I’ve got you baby” she replies, flipping you over and pulling your pants down quicker than you thought was humanly possible. She unbuttons her pants so you are both naked, your pussy pulsing from the sight.

“So wet for me huh baby?” she hums, causing you to groan.

Wasting no time she presses her mouth against your clit, moaning at your reaction to her tongue. It isn’t long before you feel your stomach begin to grow warm, you’re not going to last long. You grab her hand that is tightly gripped against your thigh. She always does this so she can hold you in place while she licks and sucks in the perfect rhythm. You push her hand further down and she knows exactly what you want. She presses her fingers inside you and you throw your head against the pillow, making the headboard loudly hit the wall. She continues to finger you while using her magic mouth on your clit as you feel yourself begin to come undone. It makes you so fucking wet how much she loves eating your pussy.

“F-fuck, FUCK, Ellie i’m so close. I’m so so fucking close ughh” you moan worryingly loud but oh well, you couldn’t care less in this moment. Ellie moans into your pussy and you’re thrown over the edge, cumming arguably harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. Ellie rolls over, laying next to you, as you both try and catch your breath.

“Fuck.” You groan, thinking about how good she makes you feel. You roll over and look at her, sweaty and breathless.

“You okay?” you ask “You seem kinda out of breath.” She turns to look at you, her cheeks bright pink.

“I-I um, sorta”

“Spit it out Ellie” you say impatiently, worried something is wrong.

“Shut up” she retaliates “I came. When I was eating you out idk how but I finished”

You giggle, moving so that you are now on top of her.

“Naw don’t be embarrassed Els, wanna cum again?” you whisper in her ear causing her to groan,

“You know I fucking do”.

[ada7201]

Hii! It's the anon that requested for the Layla reader. How are you doing? Hope you feel good! Can I ask for a part 2 of the Layla reader? You pictured her spot on! I want it to be with the other players like shidou or rin and maybe Kaiser and ness (only if you want ofc!) Not forcing any of this so do it at your own pace but it would really make my day if you would! :)

hi! i’d love to do this for you, im sorry i didn’t add all the characters you wanted before and i’m glad i was able to write the character good. im doing good, and thank you!

also, i had no idea how to include kaiser and ness into this but still wanted to write for them, i’ve decided to split this into 2 parts. so i’ll write part 3 a little later (≧∀≦)

༄ part 1 ༄ part 2 ༄ part 3 on the way

bllk boys x sleepy reader, like layla!

Shidou and Rin edition

𖣘 part 1 𖣘 part 2 𖣘 part 3 on the way!

note: end is a bit rushed. i wanted to finish this quickly, and had like no ideas. characters might be ooc. next part might come out in a day depending on how many ideas I get. also, im going somewhere tomorrow so i might not have that much time to write. ( ´△｀) but, i promise im working hard on finishing everyone’s requests!

i love seeing you guys ask for stuff, so don’t be afraid to request things, please（╹◡╹）♡

“where’s y/n?!”

“sleeping.”

“again?”

Rin sighed, yes, you were sleeping again. he shot a glare to the player, before looking back at the screen. he had to watch this match.

you were fast asleep in the cafeteria, after a long night of drawing on a notebook that was supposed to be for becoming a better striker.

it’s not your fault that you got bored, right?

“who’s that girl?” Shidou would hum to himself, taking long strides over to where your body was folded onto the table.

that looked pretty uncomfortable.

so, being the kind man he is, Shidou decided to pick you up roughly and throw you over his shoulder!

your eyes had prominent eye bags, and you seemed sick. it would be the right thing to do!

you gasped at being woken up, and quite literally manhandled onto someone’s shoulder.

“what do you think you’re doing?!” you’d screen to the unknown man, thrashing around.

well, you’re quite lively now, aren’t you?

“you’re sick.” he grins, patting your leg “soothingly” as if he wasn’t basically abducting you.

when he finally let you go, you were quick to get back your team’s room.

“hello y/n.” Rin would say, sharp eyes still glued to the screen like some sort of phone addict.

he had gotten used to you appearing in the room at sudden times.

today was one of the typical break days you had at blue lock, where you all are granted a sweet day of freedom.

not many stayed at blue lock, with the majority of the players choosing to get outside and breathe some fresh air, experiencing the outside world.

although, you don’t usually get picked up by some random tall man in the middle of your nap.

moving on, you sat beside Rin to peer down at his screen, looking for something to distract you.

the day went by pretty fast, unfortunately - and night soon fell.

Rin had decided to go to bed, saying he needed to rest because there was a match coming up.

he was a bit skeptical with letting you stay awake, but he decided on simply allowing you to.

he wasn’t in the middle to argue with you, anyways.

for the rest of the night, you played around with the screen, somehow managing to change the channel and catch up on your favorite show.

that was, until Ego hacked back in and glared at you.

you couldn’t tell what his motive was, as he simply eyes you either his slim fingers laced together.

you stared back, raising a questioning eyebrow at his creepy gaze.

“what are you doing.” he asked, voice low.

“nothing.” you respond, hoping he’d buy your lie.

“go to fucking sleep, y/n.” was all he said, before the screen shut off.

aw, you were just getting to the good part of your show, what a shame.

however, you did as he said, deciding sleeping would be a better option than loosing your soccer career.

you cuddled yourself back into the sheets, eyes shutting soon after.

the morning came soon after, with you being awoken by the sound of … someone yelling, and a monotone voice?

“come on, let me see her!” Shidou would plead, eyes begging as he stood in the doorway.

Rin simply shook his head, folding his arms as he stood in the way on the blonde male.

“what’s up?” you’d mumble, voice hoarse and scratchy from your sudden wake.

“aw, helloooo!” Shidou would coo, a toothy grin on his face as he pushed past Rin to hug you.

“you still look as sick as ever!” he giggled.

“excuse me?!”

Rin sighed. “what time did you sleep, y/n?”

“um… 3, maybe?” you hum curiously, ignoring the way Shidou squished and pet your body as if you were a stuffed toy.

a sick stuffed toy?

“3?” Rin asks, eyes narrowing menacingly.

you gulp.

“blonde hair, run!” you squeal, and Shidou quickly obeys.

he rushed out of the door, hugging you right as Rin chased after the two of you.

[twisted-sickfics]

Hell is Forever (But Thankfully Colds Aren’t)

thank you sm to anon who requested sick sneezy adam, i absolutely loved humbling this little asshole <3 love this guy and i hope you guys enjoy me torturing him

~

“Ugh, kill me now,” Adam groans for the umpteenth time that day. “I thought this was supposed to be heaven. Why are there still fucking colds in heaven?! hhuh… hh’TSHOO!”

“It’s by design,” Lute says, completely unfazed by the fact that Adam seems to refuse to cover a single sneeze. “If Angels were immune to illness or injury, that would take away our sense of purpose and self-preservation. Plus, it teaches us humility, something you desperately need.”

“Great,” Adam says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I bet it was that stupid princess and her spooky gremlin girlfriend that did this to me. *snff*”

“Through the hologram?” Lute asks, unimpressed.

“Through the fucking hologram!” he bemoans. “Hell and their crazy, weird-ass germs. I’m gonna exterminate the fuck outta those sinners when I get down thehh… hhH’HASSHOO!“

“Bless you,” Lute says. “What is that, the tenth time today?” It’s a joke intended to ruffle his feathers a bit, and it seems to accomplish just that.

“Oh, shut up,” Adam says, grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose loudly. He attempts to throw it like a basketball into the nearest trash can and misses. “I’m gonna kill whoever gave me this fucking cold. I feel like shit. How do I know if it’s the flu or just a cold again? Or is it something worse and I’m finally gonna kick the bucket?”

“You’re not dying,” Lute says, thoroughly exasperated. “You just have a cold and it’ll get better in a few days. The best thing to do is rest so you don’t make it worse. If you keep talking so much, you’ll hurt your throat.”

“Oh yeah? Says who?” Adam asks boisterously, though he immediately falls into a harsh coughing fit right after. “Lute—” he says between coughs, "I’m dying—”

Lute looks at her commander and briefly wonders about how difficult it would be to ascend to power. No, she decides, not today. She moves over to Adam’s side and pats his back in the least awkward way possible (for her). “Just breathe,” she says as gently as her voice allows. “It’ll pass.”

And it does. Adam catches his breath soon after and tries to brush it off as though nothing just happened and he didn’t just see the gates of heaven, well, outside of his day job.

“You’ve only been given a couple of days to rest,” Lute reminds him, not wanting to fall behind on important business. Heaven is very demanding, even for its higher-ups. “Think you’ll be fine by then?”

“No,” Adam says, and it’s starting to sound like he’s being genuine. Maybe. “Can’t imagine I can shake this in two days. I’m really getting my ass kicked here.” He blows his nose again, an unsettling gurgling sound.

Lute can’t believe this is her life. Yes, she is Adam’s lieutenant, but surely this is above her pay grade? Still, something inside her stirs and she can’t just leave him alone when he’s this miserable, can she?

Adam started feeling a little off the day prior, but he chalked it up to getting less sleep than usual. It was only when he woke up today that he realized just how fucked he was. He called Lute immediately, saying that he needed her for something very important. Apparently the “very important” thing is waiting on Adam hand and foot while he complains and throws tissues outside of the trash can.

“I might be able to get you a third day off if you really need it,” Lute says and she doesn’t miss the way Adam’s eyes light up in a way they haven’t all day. It would almost be cute if it wasn’t so pathetic. “But only if you’re not feeling better by tomorrow. I can’t having you shrugging off work when we have another extermination coming up.”

“Sounds goohh…good *snf* Hang on, I’m gonna…gonna snee— hH’ESCHIEW! hhH’ETCHHIU!“

“Bless you—”

“HH’ATSHHiew!”

“Bless you—”

“hH’ESCHHIU!”

It’s getting annoying at this point. Adam sneezes again and rubs his nose with his sleeve, which Lute winces at because of how much his nose was dripping just moments ago. She’ll have to clean that later, won’t she?

So far, Adam has asked for cough drops, a new box of tissues, a heating pad, the temperature to be turned down, more blankets, less blankets, more pillows, and a cup of tea. None of these things he attempted to get himself nor did he ask for any of them at the same time. It’s been a tough day for both of them.

“What, you’re not going to bless me?” Adam asks, pushing her buttons. He sniffles and Lute doesn’t know how much longer she can go hearing his sneezing, coughing, and sniffling. Not to mention his incessant talking that seems to stem from a place of boredom.

Being one of the only people Adam trusts enough to let into his circle (genuinely, and not just to use them for one of his whims) has its perks and its downsides. This is definitely one of the downsides.

But honestly…it’s not that bad. Lute has taken care of whinier people at some point in all of her years of existence, and this doesn’t even come close to that. It’s annoying, but it’s just Adam. Adam may be annoying, but he’s safe.

And if she were in his position, she would want to be taken care of and doted on too. She can’t really blame him, especially when he’s feeling as awful as she knows he is. His throat sounds better than it did earlier that morning, but he’s much more congested and lethargic. What he really needs is some rest, so what Adam doesn’t know is that there may or may not be a light sleep aid in his tea. She thought it would have kicked in by now.

Lute glares at him in response, and Adam laughs which just leads to more coughing. “Watch this be allergies,” he half-says, half-wheezes before he catches his breath.

“I don’t think it is, sweetheart,” Lute says coldly. She knows Adam isn’t allergic to anything other than fragrances and last time she checked, she’s not wearing any. There’s no way it’s anything but a nasty cold. He didn’t have a fever the last time she checked, and he doesn’t feel excessively warm when she leaves her hand on his back for a second longer to check his temperature.

There’s now a slight heaviness to his eyelids that he didn’t quite notice before. It’s making him feel out of it. “You really think those demon fuckers got one of our own?” he asks, suddenly quite serious. “That means any of one us…”

The suddenness of the question catches Lute off-guard. “Cease that line of thinking,” she demands. “All of us will be fine. It’s unfortunate that one of our own fell, but that will be the last angel they ever harm. Once we get down there on Extermination Day, we’ll—”

“hhH’ESSHHIU!”

“Never mind,” Lute sighs. “Just focus on recovering and then we can talk strategy later. Need anything from me right now? I can go get you some more tea if you need it.” It’s an offer she expects him to take her up on in a matter of seconds, but he’s oddly silent for a moment after she asks.

“Nah,” he eventually decides, “‘m fine like this. Just…hang around for a little while longer, yeah?” It’s the biggest show of vulnerability Adam is willing to display. Actually asking for help? For someone to stick by him in his rare moment of weakness? It’s almost unheard of.

But not impossible, evidently.

And who is Lute to ignore a direct request from her commander? It’s definitely not because she wants to stick around and make sure he’s alright. And it’s certainly not because she’s genuinely rly worried about him. Definitely not.

“Sure,” she agrees. “I suppose I have some free time.” Her entire schedule has been cleared just to look after Adam, but whether or not he knows that is debatable. “Sneeze on me and I’ll kill you,” she warns.

“You really think I’d do thahht… HH’ETTSHIEW!”

Thankfully, Lute has the foresight to quickly grab a tissue and cover his sneeze. “Bless you,” she says. “And stop spreading your germs everywhere. You don’t want to get anyone else sick, do you?”

“Ub, I do’t really care,” Adam says, taking the tissue from Lute’s hand and blowing his nose for what is starting to feel like the millionth time that day. “I just want this fucking cold to be finished with me and move on to the next guy.”

‘The next guy’ will probably be Lute at this rate, with the way he’s sneezed on practically every surface of this room by now. A small part of her doesn’t want to blame him because he genuinely seems to have no clue what he’s doing when it comes to just…being sick. But that’s only a small part of her.

“Why am I so tired?” Adam asks, yawning loudly. His eyes start to droop shut, but he manages to keep himself awake for now. He rolls over in bed and sniffles.

“Who knows?” Lute knows. “It’s probably just the cold making you tired. It’s good to get some rest, anyway. Have you actually slept at all?” Knowing Adam, the answer is probably “no.” The lack of a sense of self-preservation is astonishing.

As expected, he shakes his head. “I just can’t sleep when my nose is all clogged, y’know? It’s a little better today though, so I might actually be able to sleep tonight.”

Good boy, she thinks. Go to sleep and stop being my problem. Instead, what she says is, “I think it’ll do you some good to try and rest. You sound terrible.”

“I sound perfectly fine,” Adam insists, though the congested sniffle he gives immediately afterwards doesn’t exactly lend itself to his point. “Just tryin’ to…sleep…”

He’s slowly starting to doze off. Lute keeps herself still, trying not to startle him so he’ll actually fall asleep. It seems to work because she can hear his congested snores in a matter of minutes.

Great, her shift is over. For now. But…why does she feel kind of bad? It’s not like Adam’s never been sick before, but getting sick right after announcing an extermination in sixth months is unfortunate timing. Plus, he does seem really sick. No healthy person would sneeze that much.

“Sleep well,” she says softly, making sure Adam is really asleep before turning off the lights and leaving the room.

He’ll be fine, but a part of her is worried about what’s to come.

[fairyniceyeah]

🌹🤍 Don't forget when you were a child

Title from Childhood (The Rose)

Summary: Woosung returns home to his eomma to relax during his time off. His stomach has other ideas.

CW: emeto

Sickie: Woosung/Sammy Caretaker: Woolfy + his eomma

Woosung loved being home with his eomma in Los Angeles. He would never admit it out loud but he missed her a lot when he was on tour or in Korea with his members. He might be a self-sufficient guy who liked his privacy but he loved his eomma more.

So - in his book - the reunions at the airport were the best thing ever. 

“Sammy-ah”, his eomma called and the next second he was pulled into a tight embrace. 

“Eomma”, he whispered, blinking back tears and burying his face in her hair, inhaling the comforting scent of home. He held on tightly for a moment until she pushed away to muster him.

Woosung knew how he looked and her disapproving tongue-click supported that. The singer was tired, after having not slept on the eleven hour transpacific flight. Shortly after they had taken off, bad turbulence had started and any hopes of sleep had vanished while his airsickness had quickly reared its ugly head. Woosung knew his eyebags were designer and he hadn’t really gained the color in his face back, as far as he had been able to tell in the airport bathroom that was so disgusting he had fled rather quickly.

“Flight was not calm?”, she asked, rubbing his arm and leading him towards the exit. He fell in step with her, pulling his suitcase behind himself and looking down. He hoped no fans would be able to recognize him and he was glad that his eomma had switched to Korean for a touch of privacy.

“No”, he mumbled and sighed, “the fucking opposite really.”

She hummed empathetically and then stopped him. “Let me take your suitcase. You look dead on your feet.”

“You don’t have to, eomma”, Woosung protested but she snatched the handle from his grip easily. 

“Let me baby you for today, Sammy-ah. I’ve missed you”, she said and continued walking. For a second he was stunned but quickly hurried after her.

“Thank you”, he whispered, running his palm over his face. Truth be told, he was not feeling good. His stomach hadn’t really stopped churning even after he was on solid ground and there was an exhaustion in his limbs that made it hard to put one foot in front of the other. Maybe a good sleep would cure it all.

Once in the car he closed his eyes and rested his head against the window. He still didn’t feel up to much, especially since the car had heated up significantly in the short time she had parked it. The aircon was on full blast and he shivered, still it was too hot.

“AJ and your step-dad are looking at universities for him. They will be back tomorrow”, his eomma explained, “but Woolfy is pathetically yearning for you.”

Woosung laughed at the thought. “He’s the best boy.”

“He is. I’ll miss not being his favorite for the next few weeks”, she joked, “whenever we mention your name he looks around expecting you to pop up somewhere. We will have the happiest dog alive soon.”

“I can’t wait to take him to the park”, Woosung replied, fiddling with the aircon so it blasted directly in his face. That felt much better.

“You'll have the opportunity soon.” His eomma shot him a worried look from the side. “You’ve been sick on the flight?”

He nodded, embarrassed. While the stewardess had been very kind to the poor young man in her section who was so terribly airsick, it had not been a great experience. Normally at least he had his members by his side but this time alone had been physically and emotionally taxing. 

“Have at least some plain rice before you go, and drink something sweet. You need some strength and a higher blood sugar”, she advised, though from experience he knew that it was more of a command. Nevertheless, the thought of putting anything in his stomach made him feel a bit queasy again. Maybe he really was just running low on fuel.

“I will.” Then belatedly realizing, he added: “I should probably let the guys know I arrived.”

He pulled out his phone that was bombarded with messages. With the light stabbing his retinas, he decided that whatever the contents of the chat were, they couldn’t be too important. So he just wrote a quick text telling them he had landed and put his phone away.

🌹

Woosung woke up to … his face being licked? 

“Woolfy, no, stop”, a voice scolded but interrupted itself with giggles, “I told you to wake him not give him a doggy make-over.”

Woosung lifted his hands to his face and peeked out from behind his fingers, trying to protect his eyes from another dog tongue attack. He came face to face with Woolfy who looked more than delighted. 

“Hey, baby”, Woosung yawned and wrapped his arms around the dog. Woolfy seemed to take it as a cue to jump into Woosung’s lap and excitedly squirming about, sniffing him everywhere. 

Still a bit groggy from sleep, Woosung looked around. He was in the passenger seat of his eomma’s car, where he apparently must have fallen asleep during the drive. His eomma stood to the side of the car, apparently having opened the passenger door for Woolfy, laughing and taking pictures. 

“Sorry about him”, she said, giggling, “you were so deeply asleep I decided to bring your stuff inside and fetch you after but Woolfy escaped and I was scared he would start scratching at the car door if he didn’t get to greet you soon.”

“It’s alright, it’s a nice wake up. Don’t tell him”, Woosung mumbled, running his fingers through the gray fur. 

🌹

After forcing down a small bowl of rice and a sports drink, Woosung got ready to go on a walk with Woolfy. While he was still not feeling great and all he wanted to do was sleep, he knew he would be sore from flying and he wanted to get accustomed to the LA timezone quickly. So a walk was a perfect opportunity to shake off some energy and get his muscles straightened out, all the while not at risk of falling asleep.

His eomma had promised to cook him his favorite childhood dish while he was out with Woolfy and practically shooed him out the door. With his bed already made by her earlier and his travel experience good enough to place all the stuff he would need for sleep tonight being packed on top, he would be able to come back, eat and sleep. It was perfect really.

Soon he held his lovely dog on his leash, walking down the familiar street towards the big park close by. Despite the evening hour it was still hot, the asphalt having saved the heat. They made their way slowly, Woosung setting a pace that he felt comfortable with. Woolfy seemed a bit impatient but today Woosung couldn’t do faster. As he walked he started to feel how sore he really was. 

The park was fairly empty - to his surprise and relief - so he let Woolfy off his leash. Still the dog didn’t seem to want to stray far from his owner, in his excitement constantly walking into Woosung’s path causing him to nearly trip.

“Woolfy”, Woosung scolded, nearly not able to catch his balance. He was so hot, sweat pouring down his back. There was a strange feeling in his body that he couldn’t place. There was a light fuzziness left over from his nap earlier, so it was probably that. The sun was burning on his head, causing his eyes to fall shut against his will. Woolfy nudged him along and Woosung really did want to spend time with him. Maybe in the shade.

He walked towards a shadowy part of the meadow and took out the water bottle his eomma had given him. He was glad for it now, taking a few quick gulps in hopes to cool himself down. He had not missed the LA sun. 

As the cool water hit his stomach, the muscles suddenly contracted and he curled over as the upset organ continued to cramp. Gosh, it hurt. The water didn’t seem to want to settle at all, churning and moving upwards. That’s when Woosung realized that the strange feeling he had been feeling for awhile now was … nausea.

As soon as he realized he was confused why he hadn’t realized earlier. He really felt terrible, especially with the heat. The shade barely helped with the hotness he felt. Woolfy nudged his knees and they nearly buckled under his weight.

“Yeah, let’s go on”, Woosung mumbled, swallowing harshly. The sooner Woolfy got his energy out, the better. Woosung didn’t want to go again later or have his eomma do it for him. Every step jostled his stomach and his throat felt tight. He subconsciously placed a hand against his upset stomach and tried to just breathe.

It didn’t help.

At all.

🌹

It was only a few more meters when he couldn’t bear it anymore. He stumbled off the path and collapsed to the ground behind the line of trees that would hopefully hide him from any stray glances.

God, he felt awful. He curled his arms around his abdomen and hid his face in his knees, swallowing against the tightness in his throat.

Woolfy followed him and gently nudged his snout against Woosung’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Woolfy, I’m suddenly not feeling so good. We can go on in a bit”, Woosung whispered, carding a hand through his fur. It helped a bit to calm his racing heart down. He did not want to be sick. Not in public. Not on his first day home. Not away from home. Not alone.

But he couldn’t deny the feeling in his stomach. He let his head thunk back against the tree bark and tried to simultaneously think of a reason for his misery and ignore it completely. By now he doubted that it was unfortunate leftover nausea from the airplane, rather he wondered if he hadn’t been sick then too and just had not realized. It could also have been a mix of both back then.

But now? He had no idea what made him so queasy.

Maybe it was just exhaustion coupled with the jetlag. Maybe it was the food from the plane. Maybe he wasn’t used to the LA heat anymore. Maybe something had not been lactose free after all. Maybe he had caught something in that disgusting bathroom at the airport. 

Thinking back to the flooded floor and the oppressive heat in there made him gag. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, swallowing convulsively. Woolfy, who had laid down next to his owner, watching him, now jumped up in worry, nosing Woosung again. Woosung felt terribly guilty about it but pushed him away gently. He couldn’t stand the heat of the dog’s fur for now.

“I’m sorry, Woolfy, I’m …”, he started to apologize but he was cut off by an unexpected belch. He barely managed to turn his head to the side before he was being sick. For a moment he was so startled, he could only stare at the undigested bits of rice and blue gatorade on the grass beside him. It was a gross sight and his stomach somersaulted before another mouthful of his stomach contents sprayed on the ground.

Leaning twisted to the side like this hurt and exhausting but he couldn’t stop. The last remnants of the small amount of food he had managed to choke down earlier splattered onto the grass beside him and the smell, worsened by the heat, made Woosung gag even more.

“Oh God”, he groaned, wrapping his arm around his stomach, trying not to cry. He hadn’t felt this bad, hot and nauseous, in a long time. The plane ride was nothing against this. His throat felt dry and raw but he didn’t dare try to drink anything. No matter, his water bottle had fallen someplace away when he had dropped it earlier.

He couldn’t tell how long it had been until he was able to scoot a few meters away from his puddle of stomach contents but he nearly started to cry at the prospect of having to drag himself home like this. It was overwhelming him, waves of desperation and fear crashing over him. He just wanted to be home, cooled down and most of all, not nauseous anymore. His stomach ached from emptiness and strain of having been sick so often. Tears rolled down his cheeks, more fluids he couldn’t afford to lose.

Woolfy, who had stood by protectively, walked closer to Woosung and without further ado laid down on Woosung’s legs. He was a comfortable weight and Woosung leaned down, wrapping his arm around him, burying his face in his softness. He was well-aware that he was crying, drenching his dog in tears but he couldn’t care. Woolfy accepted it all with patience and kindness. It took a few minutes for Woosung to calm down enough that he could lift his face up. He wiped his eyes and muttered: “Thank you.”

In answer Woolfy just licked his face then recoiled when he got a whiff of the smell of Woosung’s mouth. Yeah, Woosung couldn’t even fault him for that. His mouth tasted disgusting and he didn’t doubt he had a terrible breath.

For a moment he contemplated calling his eomma to come and get him with the car but he would have to walk back across the park, which was nearly half the way, anyways. He didn’t want to worry her and he was an adult. He could get back home on his own. So, Woosung, still shaky and dizzy, pushed to his feet, holding onto the tree for a second to stay upright. Woolfy just waited then nudged his owner, guiding him back to the path. 

Not protected by the trees anymore and therefore in the path of the breeze, Woosung started to shiver, his shirt sweated through. He was disgusting but he also couldn’t care less. At least he wasn’t so hot anymore, which was really good. He’d rather be cold than warm.

Even slower than the walk to the park, they made their way back. Woolfy loyally stayed at his side, not running into his path anymore and not being any trouble. He could probably sense just how exhausted Woosung was. Everything was spinning a bit and his head felt even worse, barely even awake.

By the time they reached the entrance to the park Woosung had to double over again, bringing up a few mouthfuls of bile. Woolfy stayed by his side, the feeling of his loyal companion by his side the only reason Woosung didn’t collapse next to the disgusting puddle. At least, luckily, nobody was there to see. That would have been the cherry on top of the cake of that awful day.

🌹

They made it back home without further incident and Woosung pushed open the door. He’d never been so relieved to be anywhere before. Already the coolness of the house helped him feel a bit better, though the nausea was still testing him. 

“Eomma, we’re home”, he called, wincing at the sound of his voice. His throat was dry and scratchy, raw from vomiting.

As he spoke, he noticed that his stomach was feeling really unsettled again. He just wanted to lay down and sleep until this was over. His eomma hurried into the hall, her face scrunching up as she saw him. “You’re back early, Sammy-ah, is everything …”, she started, coming closer.

It happened so fast he at first didn’t even quite understand what was happening. Bile rushed up his throat without warning and Woosung couldn’t hold it in. He doubled over, vomiting at her feet. Retch after retch tore up his throat, causing bile and the last of the meals he had eaten the previous twenty-four hours to splatter onto the floor. 

Fuck, that he had not anticipated. His eomma even less so evident by the horrified expression on her face that Woosung only got a tiny glimpse of before she stepped into action. She really deserved a big bouquet of flowers or something once he was well, he decided. Without any hesitation she came to stand beside him, ushering Woolfy away at the same time, and rested one of her hands on his back, the other holding back his fringe. Even as his back rippled from extortion she didn't let go, but rather shushed the pained whimpers he couldn’t hold back anymore. His stomach really hurt.

Just as he thought he would collapse into a pitiful puddle on the floor did his stomach grant him mercy. With tears in his eyes that he just wanted to let roll down his face did he blink up at her, one hand on his knee, the other wiping his mouth. 

“Oh dear”, his eomma mumbled, shock still evident in her voice, “oh dear, well, that explains it. Come on, let's get you laying down. Or should we get you to the bathroom?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry”, Woosung whispered, not able to hold back. He hadn’t wanted to make a mess. He was an adult. He could deal with being sick. It didn’t matter - all he wanted was his eomma’s hug.

“Language, baby. While you may be making a career out of using that word in every possible situation, you know you’re not using it in your mother’s house”, she scolded lightly. The reminder was so familiar it even brought a tiny smile on his face. “Sorry”, he rasped.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re sick. Sofa okay?”, his eomma then asked. Woosung just nodded and let her guide him inside by his elbow, ignoring the mess he left behind.

“I just wished you’d said you felt this sick earlier”, she commented as he stumbled, most of his weight on her already, “I would never have let you out with Woolfy if I had known.” The dog perked up at the mention of his name, cuddling close to Woosung’s legs again.

She helped him lay down on his side on the couch and he could have cried at the relief of not having to hold himself up anymore. Actually, there were tears running down his face, tickling him. She gently wiped them away and placed the back of her hand against his forehead.

“You’re feeling a bit hot. So this definitely isn't airsickness anymore. Hey, baby, don’t go to sleep yet”, she admonished gently, brushing back his hair. “I know you don’t want to but try to drink a bit. You might be dehydrated. I’ll get you something.”

He blinked and she returned nearly immediately. Had he fallen asleep after all? He didn’t know. He watched, detached, as she placed a bucket by his side. The sight of it reminded him of a childhood filled with illness until they figured his lactose intolerance out, but also of the body of a young child that was more fragile than his adult one. The only thing that had been a constant was his eomma’s kindness and gentle care.

She helped him sit upright, leaning him against the backrest and handed him a glass of water. He took a few small sips until he felt his stomach turn. He put the glass on the table and leaned back. His head was still spinning and the way his stomach felt he knew he had a long night ahead of him. How he would get through that without bursting into tears was a problem for later. He already didn’t know how to deal.

“I’m so sorry”, he apologized again, gesturing into the direction of the hall. He didn’t want her to have to clean it up but he also didn’t have the strength to do it himself. And somehow he doubted even if he could, she would let him.

“The floor can easily be cleaned, don’t worry about it. I mean, it would have been lovely if you had made it to the bathroom but some things can’t be helped. At least you made it home”, she tried to assure. But at that tears sprung into his eyes again.

“I didn’t. Threw up at the park. Twice. Nobody saw but …”, he broke off, trying not to sound whiney - despite having a good reason for it. “At least I had the furball with me.”

“Yeah, your baby is great”, his eomma agreed, “I’ll quickly clean the hall, okay? And then I will stay with you all you want, okay?”

Biting his lip, Woosung nodded.

She disappeared and he stared down at Woolfy who had followed them into the living room. The dog seemed satisfied they were home but still worried. Maybe Woosung was imagining things. He wasn’t sure if he wasn’t reading too much into his dog’s behavior. But then Woolfy traipsed over and laid down by Woosung’s side on the floor, careful to not push the bucket away, and in the perfect position for Woosung to stroke him. He let his hand dangle and the repeated motion of running his fingers through silky fur nearly lulled him to sleep.

🌹

The silence was broken by his phone ringing and Woosung blinked open his eyes tiredly, accepting the call without looking at the caller ID. 

“Yes?”, he mumbled.

“Saaaammyyyy”, Dojoon called loudly, “don’t leave us hanging in the group chat.” If that wouldn’t have made his dizziness worse, Woosung would have rolled his eyes. Trust Dojoon to call to complain about a group chat.

“Leo?”, Woosung greeted tiredly, “hi.”

“We assume the last message you sent meant you were home but it was so full of spelling mistakes … did you fall asleep while writing it? You could have at least sent a picture of Woolfy before”, his dongsaeng continued complaining, probably pouting on the other side of the world.

“Sorry, I was preoccupied”, Woosung mumbled, eyes falling shut against his will again. “Yeah, I’m home. I’ll send you a pic later.”

“What can be more important than pictures of your fur baby?”, Dojoon asked, sounding fake heart-broken. Woosung imagined him clutching his heart for dramatic effect.

“Dude, I had the worst flight ever, and puked in a public park - twice - and in the hallway of my eomma’s home. I feel awful. Cut me some slack”, Woosung grumbled, a bit of annoyance flaring at his dongsaeng.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Now there was gentle concern in the younger’s voice, mixed with guilt. Woosung had not wanted to cause these feelings but he also was not up to joking.

“Did you just listen to a word I said?”

“Grumpy”, Dojoon commented but then more gently, “are you just airsick still or do you think you’re sick? With all the traveling and stress I wouldn't even be surprised.”

“I don’t know. Eomma said I got a fever. Maybe I picked up something somewhere”, Woosung said, defeatedly. Frustration prickled at his whole being and he felt really close to snapping again.

“I’m sorry you're feeling unwell”, Dojoon offered, “anything I can do?”

“You’re in Korea, how would you imagine that?”, Woosung spat, then immediately apologized. “I’m sorry, Leo, I just feel awful. It’s not you.”

“Yeah, I gathered. Feel better soon, okay? Call if you want to.”

“Thanks, Leo. Greet the kids from me.”

Somehow he had the feeling he would be bothered by a lot of messages and calls soon. He found he didn’t mind at all. 

🌹

As he hung up, his eomma came back into the living room.

“Dojoon?”, she guessed, lifting her hand to hear ear to mimic a phone.

Woosung nodded. “Yeah, just checking in. He wants pictures of Woolfy.”

“I’ll send him some later”, she said with a wink. “Do you feel like trying some light soup?”

Alone the thought of that turned his stomach and he shook his head. He didn’t want to eat. He wanted sleep and, more importantly, comfort.

“Eomma?”, he asked quietly, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I know, I’m an adult but …” He broke off, frustrated he couldn’t bring himself to speak more.

“Yeah?”, she asked tenderly. Her tone of voice calmed him down and she came to sit on the armrest by his head, stroking his hair.

“Can I just have a hug?”

“Of course, Sammy-ah. You’re always going to be my baby, you don’t have to even ask.”

Already half asleep he cuddled into her, letting her brush his hair back like she did when he was sick as a child and with a content sigh, he fell asleep.

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - The Rose  

[spooky-pomegranate]

Pablo's Ghost (Part 2)

Colonel Carrillo x F Reader Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: In the middle of the night Javier Peña drunkenly knocks on your door. (Part 1)

—————————————————————

Several hours passed until a loud bang jolted you and Carrillo awake.

“Hey! You in there? Come onnn let me innn.” The stench of tequila, cigarettes, and cheap beer stung your nostrils before you could even open the door. At this hour there was only one person who would show up unannounced. You opened the door and found Javier Peña wobbling back and forth. He stared at you blankly with hazy and bloodshot eyes.

“Can I come innn?” He slurred.

“Yeah, of course.”

You stepped aside and watched as he nearly tripped crossing the threshold. You offered him an arm but he gently pushed it away.

“Want some water, Peña?”

“Got anything a lil’ strongerrr?” As Javier spoke his words lazily sloshed into one another. You’d seen Peña drunk dozens of times, but never like this.

“I really don’t think you need anything stronger Javier. Come sit down before you break something.” You kept your voice low, hoping that Carrillo would be able to go back to sleep. Javier plopped himself onto your couch with a huff before kicking off his shoes.

“How come you didn’t come out with Steve and me?” He asked, this time trying harder not to sound so inebriated.

“Just didn’t want to end up with the nasty hangover you’ll definitely have tomorrow.” You said playfully while joining him on the couch.

Peña turned his head and stared at you blankly. He knew that was an utter bullshit excuse. It wasn’t like you to turn down a trip to the bar. If you were sick or drowning in paperwork he could understand. But fearing a hangover? That didn’t add up. He had come here to check up on you and this only made him more concerned.

“Your eyes are different.” He said leaning in and studying your face.

“What?”

“Have you been crying?” He shifted further close. You could taste his heady cologne from this distance.

“Peña I-” A shallow groan came from your bedroom and interrupted you. Peña’s eyes widened as he jumped up from the couch.

“Is someone here with you?” Javier asked, realizing maybe he had been wrong. Maybe you didn’t come out tonight because you had someone to comfort you. Someone you kept secret who could hold you and take care of you on horrible awful nights like tonight. He felt stupid, embarrassed, and slightly ashamed.

But then your face shifted.

“No, no one’s here,” you said.

In his drunken state, Javier couldn’t see through your little lie so he panicked and assumed the worst. He took off running toward your bedroom. He drew his gun as he staggered against the wall in the hallway and a picture frame shattered collided with the tile floor.

“Peña wait!” You chased after him as quickly as you could while trying to avoid the broken glass but by the time you reached him, Javier had already thrown your bedroom door wide open.

“Holy shit!” Peña rushed over to the side of your bed and tossed his gun on your side table, knocking several pill bottles to the ground.

“Holy… holy fuckinggg shit!”

“Shh, not so goddamn loud Javier.”

“He’s aaalive?!”

Peña paced back and forth, running his hands through his dark hair. Your heart ached for him. You never wanted him to find out like this.

“Javier please be quieter.” You said softly as you watched emotion after emotion crash ruthlessly into him. First Javier was hit with doubt, then shock, followed quickly by relief. Each surge of emotion was temporary and fleeting until ultimately Peña settled on bitter and seething anger. The unabridged fury took hold of his body, darkening his eyes and tensing his muscles. He turned to you.

“He’s fucking alive and you’re… you’re hiding him here?! Are you kidding me?! What the hellsss wrong with you?! Why wouldn’t you tell me?!” The anger soaked through his voice and he spit out each word like they were venomous.

But you couldn’t fault him for being upset with you. You knew Peña had blamed himself for the ambush and for two days while he drank himself into a stupor you had hidden the truth.

But it was also more than that. Over the past several years he had come to trust you with his life but this… this was an incomprehensible betrayal. You were supposed to be his partner, his ally... his goddamn friend.

The liquor in his veins made his head spin and he stumbled in your direction. He thought about running back downstairs to his apartment and chugging another bottle of tequila until he heard Carrillo’s faint voice.

“Not her fault.” Carrillo groaned lowly, “Be mad at me. Told her…” He paused, taking a shallow pained breath, “Told her not to tell you.”

“So what you trust her but you don’t trust me anymore? I thought we understood each other.” Javier said, turning back towards the bed.

Carrillo remained silent. Only the sound of the machines humming and beeping filled the room. Every passing second ate away at Javier until he couldn’t stand the quiet anymore. Peña crouched down next to Carrillo and tears welled in his eyes.

“I…I didn’t know it was a setup. You have to believe me I didn’t know that. I would have never, I swear on my life Horacio, I would have never sent you out there if I had known.”

“I know,” Carrillo responded, looking up at his friend.

“Then what was the reason? Why didn’t you ask for me? I would have protected you too.”

“Doesn’t matter Javi. You know now.”

“I… I gotta get outta here.”

Peña stormed past you and ran down the hall, somehow narrowly avoiding the broken glass on his way to the couch. He couldn't stand to be in your apartment a moment longer. He sat down and tried to put on his shoes.

“Peña stop!” You chased after him and snatched his sneakers out of his hands. “I can’t let you leave.”

“You can't whattt?” Peña said as he stood and tried to grab his shoes. You gently pushed against his chest and he stumbled back onto the couch.

“You’re drunk. I can’t let you leave knowing what you do. But you can sleep it off on the couch and we’ll all talk in the morning okay.” You tossed his shoes across the room and reached out, gently grabbing one of his hands. “He’s just tired. I haven’t even seen him talk this much since… since everything happened.”

“Fine.” Peña eventually relented. "That's fine." He gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Javi, all of this it… it isn’t your fault. No one blames you for what happened.” You had meant the words to be comforting, but when you saw the way Javier’s jaw clenched you knew they had the opposite effect and you immediately regretted saying anything at all.

The venom returned to his voice and his eyes grew dark again.

“You can’t keep him here like this forever you know. He’s not going to just magically recover in your apartment because you want to play doctor. You have to know that. He doesn’t look good.”

“Fuck you. Of course, I know that Javier!” You bit back, dropping his hand and looking down the hall toward your bedroom.

“Do you?! Then what are you doing? What exactly is your fucking plan here?” The liquor had made him brutally honest and the truth he dolled out so unabashedly was hard to swallow.

“I don’t know!” You snapped as tears rolled down your cheek. “I don’t fucking know Javi!”

You stood frozen in place for what felt like ages. A clock on the wall ticked and ticked and ticked, growing louder and louder with each passing second. The walls and floor swirled in dizzying circles and you felt an immense pressure build in your chest.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Javier said eventually, snapping you out of your trance. He stood up from the couch and gently laid a hand on your shoulder. “I know you have feelings for him.”

“What?” Your eyes shot to his.

Peña’s gaze was softer. The rage and anger were gone, replaced by a sweeter and gentler kindness. He offered you a small smile before continuing.

“You’ve hidden it well, but I know you do. I’ve known for a while now. I can see it when you look at him. You get this… this fire in your eyes whenever he’s around. You don’t look at anyone else like that. But this,” Peña said gesturing toward your bedroom door, “it isn’t going to work. You won’t keep him this way.”

Peña's words struck you with a sense of déjà vu. There was one other time he had mentioned seeing a fire in your eyes, and it was a day you thought about often... because on that day Horacio Carrillo unknowingly broke your heart.

————————————————————— A little over a year ago, you, Peña, and Steve had tagged along with Search Bloc to raid a drug lab. Things had gone sideways quickly after a fire broke out and you were separated from everyone else. Pinned down and out of ammo you had almost made peace with your own end until you saw him. At first, you thought he was a mirage brought on by the fires suffocating fumes. It wasn't until he called out for you, yelling your name over a hailstorm of bullets and gunfire that you realized he was real. Somehow Colonel Carrillo had come through fire and fury to rescue you.

Your heart raced as you scrambled to him, hiding behind broken furniture and stepping over dead narcos as you went. When you finally made it to his side he tossed you a clip and together you started to push your way back out of the lab.

You had thought the nightmare was over but mere feet from the exit Carrillo was blindsided and tackled by a sicario. You watched as his gun fell from his hands and his head bounced off the concrete floor with a sickening crack that echoed around the lab. The sound was so loud you froze in fear, utterly terrified of the damage it might have caused.

Seizing your hesitation the sicario quickly scrambled off Carrillo and darted for the loose gun. But just as he picked up the weapon you snapped back to reality and fired your own. The bullet ripped through the narco, hitting him in the dead center of his chest and the man's bloody and limp body collapsed to the floor. It wasn't until you heard Carrillo muttered a string of Spanish curse words that the air, you had unknowingly been holding in, flooded back into your lungs. You should have known it would take more than a concrete floor to take down Colonel Carrillo. But fear is never often based on logic.

As you helped Carrillo to his feet you came to a haunting realization. The abject fear you felt at possibly losing him was more consuming than it should have been. Somehow over late-night drinks, long hours listening to wiretaps, and countless raids, Colonel Horacio Carrillo had become more than a partner and more than a friend.

He had become a series of fervent wants.

Physically you wanted him. You wanted to touch him, to hold him, to feel his muscular body tangle with yours under soft bedsheets. You wanted to know what his hands would feel like if they intertwined with yours and you wanted to know what his lips would taste like if you kissed them sweetly.

But your wants included more than just raw physicality. You also wanted to understand him, to know what thoughts swirled in his mind behind his stoic expression, and to know what dreams he held for the future.

And you also desperately wanted to help him win the war against Escobar. You wanted to fight with him side by side and reign together in the new Columbia that he was trying so fiercely to carve out.

But most ardently, you wanted to be his... and that was a terrifying notion. Because how could a man who so evidently gave his entire heart and soul to Columbia ever feel the same way about you? How could he even have anything left to give you? How could Horacio Carrillo ever be yours when the world already demanded so much of him?

You felt doomed to unrequited love.

“You alright? You’ve got this fire in your eyes like I’ve never seen,” Peña had said to you when the raid was finally over. You brushed the comment aside but felt the fire spread to your chest when you looked at Carrillo. Even if he could never feel the same, you knew that fire would never die. It burned too brightly.

—————————————————————

When you walked back into your room you were surprised to find that Carillo was still awake.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think he would come in here.” You said softly, walking across the room and kneeling beside your bed.

“No, I’m sorry cariño.” He whispered in return and that time you caught it. That sweet little word you never expected him to say to you. It made your breath catch in your lungs.

“What did you call me?”

Carrillo ignored your question. He had things he desperately needed to say to you and he didn’t care how badly his chest hurt. He would use as many words as he needed to tell you the truth.

“I’m sorry you have had to do this without much help. I’m sorry you had to go to my funeral today and mourn for me. I’m sorry I can’t tell you how this is going to end and I’m…” Carrillo’s voice faltered. This was the most you had heard him speak since the ambush and you could tell how painful it was for him. But he closed his eyes, furrowed his brow, and continued.

“And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you what you mean to me earlier.”

“Carrillo…”

“Mi querida,” he opened his eyes and looked at you more gently than you could have ever expected. “That night when I called out for you it wasn’t about who I trusted more and it wasn’t about who I thought could protect me. I said your name because you were all I could think about. You were the only thing on my mind when I thought I was at the end. You were the only thing that mattered and I couldn’t say that to Peña before I told you that I…” Another crippling wave of pain crashed into Carrillo and he groaned loudly and clenched his fists.

“Before you told me what, Horacio?” His name whispered so sweetly from your lips helped him push through the pain. He reached for your hand and you interwound your fingers with his.

“Before I told you…” he paused, taking a deep breath, “Before I told you that I am in love with you.”

“Horacio,” you sobbed his name and tears streamed freely down your face. A year ago you had resigned yourself to loving Carrillo from afar and you had made peace with that love being a one-sided affair. But it wasn’t true, because the man who always put Columbia first thought of you in the end.

You pushed forward and softly pressed your lips against his. You could taste the salt from your tears against his chapped lips and you gently thread your hand into his damp and messy hair. The kiss was gentle and fleeting but you hoped Carrillo could feel how much it meant to you. You hoped he could feel how much he meant to you.

“Lay with me,” he whispered against your lips.

“Are you sure? I… I don’t want to hurt you, Horacio.”

“You could never hurt me, mi cielito. Please.”

You carefully climbed into bed, mindful of his injuries and the wires and tubes that ran from his body. You laid your head down on a pillow next to his and rubbed your thumb gently back and forth over his jaw. You stared into his tired eyes.

“I should have told you sooner,” he whispered softly. You tenderly rested your forehead against his.

“It’s okay Horacio. Just tell me again tomorrow. You need to rest.”

“I will cariño,” he promised. “I will tell you every day for as long as you let me.”

But he lied. He wouldn't tell you the next day. Because the next day, Horacio Carrillo didn’t wake up.

—————————————————————

(Part 3)

[treenissanderssidesstuff]

Dumb Bitchitis

Chapter 2: I'm Not Sorry

Summary:

Virgil and Remy sleep together and it takes Virgil a long time to get over it. He starts dating this cute guy named Emile who couldn’t be further from his old flame, thinking that this guy would be safe to open up to after it all.

Notes:

I got somethin' to say Get the fuck out my way Don't know if I'll make it 'til tomorrow Without losing all my marbles - Royal & the Serpent

Ship: RemyxEmilexVirgil

Ao3 Link

Previous

Remy wasn’t expecting his first step into the kitchen that morning to be met with such a dower expression from his partner. There they were, one of the most wonderful people in the world—as far as he was concerned at least—leaned up against the counter with a frown tugging at their features while they scrolled through their phone. It seemed Emile didn’t even notice that the kettle they were filling at the sink had started to overflow. Rather, the tap water just continued to over pour into the sink and down the drain. 

Without a word, the first thing Remy did was switch off the faucet, smoothly slinging up the handle of the kettle to place it on the stove to heat. He gave Emile a little hip bump as he slid past. Emile looked up at him with a sheepish expression and apologetic grin as they finally looked up from the little screen. 

“Sorry, starlight,” Emile said, placing their phone flat on the counter as they reached up a hand to brush it over his shoulder. 

Their smile softened, and he stayed in place, reaching an arm around their waist to tug them just a little bit closer. He could feel the way they melted into his arms, leaning their soft cheek against his shoulder just the way he expected. Emile was already dressed for the day in a long pleated beige skirt, a soft satin blouse with a gray cardigan nestled over their shoulders, but Remy was still in a t-shirt and flannels. He hoped it made him a little bit cozier for them and Remy was half-tempted to try and coax Emile to call off ‘sick’ to work and come back to bed so he could keep them in his arms for a few more hours and away from whatever it was that was causing them early morning grief. 

Did it matter that he didn’t know what it was yet? Not really. He was sure they could figure out the who, what, when, where, why, and how once he’d helped them through a bit more relaxation. 

As much as he wanted to ask, he didn’t, knowing they’d never agree, not with the fact that they’d just taken a few days off the other week with a flu. No, he’d just have to get the touch and grounding in that he could that morning before they left for the day. 

“What’s on your mind, north?” Remy whispered into the quiet of the early hours. 

Really it was far too early for either of them to be up as far as he was concerned, with the approaching winter months, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. What godforsaken morning person decided that any human being should be up before even the birds?

“It’s V,” Emile admitted, lifting their head to look up into his eyes, as if searching for some kind of reassurance. They usually weren’t the type, but something was up. 

“Your other partner,” Remy confirmed, keeping a steady gaze as he tried to keep his expression from wavering. 

He couldn’t say there wasn’t jealousy there, of course there was a little bit. Emile and he had started their relationship with the mutual agreement that they wouldn’t be exclusive, that neither of them really believed in it, but…

…Well for Remy that had always meant non-emotional relationships. He’d never even considered the prospect of being able to fall in love with someone else. Emile had never once seemed jealous, only confident of their place in his life, and he did his best to reconfirm just how much they meant to him. 

It was just that when they came home one day and not only admitted that they had started taking an interest in someone, but that they had started to have strong emotional feelings for this other person, Remy didn’t know how to feel. There was a lot of anguish in the beginning. He’d done his best to try and keep that from Emile, not wanting to burden them with the emotional fallout of something that he technically should have always known was a possibility.

Facing the insecurity of the reality of it was a whole other situation. 

It took a lot of self-reflection on his part, a lot of facing his own limitations and insecurities. He couldn’t say that he was all the way there all the time, but… well, every time they talked about this new mysterious guy that had entered their life, the way they lit up with joy, he loved that for them. He wanted to keep seeing that smile, the way that they bubbled with excitement when their phone dinged with a message or the way they spent extra care in choosing their clothes before a date with him. 

No, he couldn’t take that joy away from them, rather, Remy just wanted to keep being a part of it, keep being another source of it, something else to keep that soft smile on their face. He was certain that his North Star was far too good for this world, and if someone else was seeing that, someone that made them happy…

He couldn’t see that as a bad thing, not really, not when he pushed past the initial reaction to realize any thoughts otherwise were just stemming from his own rooted insecurity. They had done nothing to cause any doubt in his mind that they loved him, not with the way they smiled at him, reached for him, nestled into his arms like he was thier safe space. 

If it wasn’t abundantly clear, Remy had done a lot of thinking, a lot of introspection recently, wanting to ensure he entered into this situation from the best perspective that he could muster. 

What he hadn’t considered was the sudden lack of control he was feeling. 

It had just occurred to him that Emile was hanging their heart on this whole other person and that they had the power to break it, if they wanted to, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Not really. That made a panic rise in his chest that he wasn’t really sure how to handle. All he could do was tighten his grip a little bit more. He couldn’t protect them from this, but he could support them at the very least. 

“What happened?” Remy asked in a hush, nuzzling in against the back of their crown as he pressed a kiss to the very edge of their hairline. He wanted to maintain the early morning peace just a little bit longer for them. 

“Nothing really,” Emile said, pulling their arms in and wrapping them over his. “It’s just that I messaged V about meeting you last night after our date, and he’s just felt a little distant since then,” they said, looking as if they were doubting their own words. They knew, logically, that there could be a lot of reasons that could cause someone to get quiet for a little while, but sometimes timing could be a scary thing when you were used to having a mind that was quick to analyze cause and effect. 

He could see where Emile was going with this.

“Maybe he overslept?” Remy asked, doubting it himself. With the way he’d seen the pair of them messaging back and forth recently, he was certain that Emile would have already known if that were the case. “Try not to overthink it until you get the facts, North?”

Despite him asking, despite Emile’s hesitant nod, he knew they would anyway, they couldn’t help it, overthinking was just in their nature. 

“It’s probably nothing…” Emile trailed off, even as doubt and worry lingered on their face as the very first rays of dawn started to break over the horizon. The way the sunrays slipped through the kitchen window and illuminated his North Star from behind made for such an ethereal sight that he was a bit taken aback by the way they could just simply glow. 

They looked at their phone again and Remy hoped this wouldn’t become a nervous habit as they scrolled over the screen again, looking for a message that just wasn’t there. There was a odd juxtaposition between how humanizing Emile’s worry was compared to the way they looked in that first break of dawn. He was sure they didn’t notice the effect they had. They never did, that their strange and giddy outlook on the world had swept him up in a whirlwind of adoration for as long as he could remember. 

“Do you want to see a picture from yesterday?” They asked, holding out the little screened device to him at an angle for him to take. He’d always appreciated how readily they offered access and answers to anything and everything without a thought, like it never really occurred to them to hide things from him. He knew the shorthand of the new partner’s name was in respect of their boundaries as he and Emile started to figure out a new relationship and where Remy fit into it all. “I really like this one,” they said, a soft smile overtaking their face and he could feel them relaxing beneath his arms just the tiniest bit.

Remy accepted the offering and held up the phone, getting a better look at the new angle as he held it for them both to see. And there Emile was, side-by-side with a ghost.

“Oh, fuck-”

-----------

Virgil wasn’t sure when he went from successfully avoiding Emile for a few modest hours, to his phone blowing up with a number of texts and calls that he was struggling to process, much less respond to. Someone wanted to talk to him, be it Emile or Remy, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t know what to do in the current situation. 

A little afraid that Emile might try knocking on his apartment door to seek him out, Virgil slunk away that morning, grabbing drive-thru coffee, rather than his usual at the bakery he’d frequented since coming back to town, and slipped into the building on the end of main street that his “boss” was renting out for the sake of collaboration, and equipment, more than it being a true work space. 

Virgil had only been in the place a handful of times in his weeks since returning, specifically for meetings and the like of where they wanted to go with the story. His first time here, Remus had him play through the previous game, start to finish, to get a sense of the vibes and a working knowledge of the storyline. Once he was able to get a summary of where they wanted to go next with the project, Virgil was able to come back with some concept sketches for environments, levels, characters, and other scenes.

But really, almost all his work could be done online, even the meetings technically. Remus was a very physical person though, especially when it came to creative ventures, so nothing beat the kind of feedback he got when the developer grabbed a pen and started jotting down notes directly on his concept work. 

Speaking of Remus…

There was a clattering in the hall as some equipment that Remus was carrying in suddenly slipped from his arms as soon as he caught sight of Virgil, chillin’ in the corner with his tablet with the lights off. There was a series of expletives cursed out, in what sounded to be at least three different languages, but it ended on a satisfying “Fucking, dammit!” as Remus dragged a hand down his face, before moving to grab all of the pieces. What looked like sound and recording equipment scattered to the floor and Virgil hoped that Remus got some sort of warranty on it all, because it seemed pretty fucking expensive to just be dropped the like that. Maybe the packaging would hold up and prevent any of it from being broken in ‘transport,’ but really, that wasn’t his business. He wasn’t getting involved in the VA of the game. 

“What the hell are you doing here at bum fuck in the morning?” Remus asked in a much calmer tone once the boxes were placed (hopefully) safely on a table to be sorted and dealt with. Virgil only gave him a cursory glance, knowing he was welcome. He might be less so in the coming weeks, when they were further along in the project and as Remus’ brother recruited more talent, but for now, with him being only one of three employees in total, not including the brothers who ran the project, they had the space to spare and he barely took up a corner anyway.

“Avoidance,” Virgil said with a shrug before looking at the time on his tablet. “What are you doing here? I don’t usually see you on the grind until at least noon.” That wasn’t completely true, usually Remus seemed to take care of things out of office, the boring stuff like networking, talking to people, corporate meetings, and other stupid stuff that Virgil wanted to avoid like the plague and knew for a fact that Remus hated nearly as much. Virgil knew that Remus had a brother that took care of most of the social side of things, but as a co-owner of their game development company, Remus couldn’t stay completely uninvolved. 

“Setting up for interviews,” Remus said, looking sour at the prospect. Ah yes, more talking to people to get things done. If Virgil was evidence of anything, he was a friend of a friend kinda a guy and didn’t seem too fond of the idea of working with strangers. “Avoiding what now?”

Virgil just shrugged and passed over the phone that he’d set on the table beside him, after putting it on silent. He could still feel the phantom sensations of the near-constant buzzing as a string of messages all came through at once. 

Remus accepted it with little fanfare. The device was still locked, but he could access the notification center on the lock screen. 

“A bunch of shit from Em…” Remus noted, eyes half-lidded as he glanced over the popups. He looked up at Virgil again for a moment, as if things were clicking into place behind his weirdly calculating eyes. For being a game developer with an avoidant personality, he sure could fucking read people. “Isn’t that your new beau?”

Virgil didn’t respond, didn’t have to, by the look on Remus’ face the other man already knew. Virgil just pulled his legs in, feet flat on the edge of the chair as he buried himself as much as he could into his hoodie like an amorphous blob that definitely wasn’t a person that was procrastinating on hard conversations. 

Who him?

Never. 

“You know what I’m going to tell you, right?” 

“Don’t let it affect your work?” Virgil asked in a deadpan, glancing up at Remus from beneath the hemline of his hood in a challenge. 

“First of all, fuck you, I didn’t choose this capitalist hellscape any more than you did,” Remus retorted immediately crossing his arms, Virgil may have hit a nerve there. “Second of all, get your ass out of here and go talk to them you dumbass.”

Virgil stared a moment longer, pulling his tablet in against his chest as he stared at Remus petulantly. Absolutely like fuck if he was just going to talk about things and try to resolve them because his boss told him to, it’s not like Remus had any real say on his personal life. 

“Out,” Remus said, pointing at the door as he shooed him towards it. “Go take care of your mental health things and come back once you have. Your work will be shit until you get this resolved anyway.”

Virgil made a disgruntled and offended noise, if they hadn’t been friends for years before the weirdness of their employee/employer situation set in, he might have held back from blowing raspberries at Remus but given their friendship and Virgil’s security in his place, he didn’t hold back, getting the same mirrored back in return as he stomped out the freshly painted front door and onto the cracked cobblestone street. 

This was certainly the weirdest company he’d ever worked for, but he didn’t think he’d ever leave if he could help it. 

[suckitsurveys]

Are any of your friendships on a fine line? No. One just kind of ended though. I feel a little shitty about it but this girl did NOT respect my boundaries and I tried talking to her about it several times and she refused to listen so I just kind of stopped talking to her and she finally got the hint and deleted me off of all social media.

If I search your room will I find birth control? No.

Do you expect any of your ex’s to call or text you? Nope.

Have you ever witnessed a birth? Yes, my older niece’s. It was wild.

Where’s your favorite place to be when you feel depressed? With Mark and our kitties.

Are you currently looking forward to tomorrow? Nothing really. It’ll just be one day closer to the girls trip we’ve been planning for a year.

When was the last time you held someone’s hand? Yesterday.

Have you ever faked sick? Oh yeah.

Do you wear hoodies to bed? Not hoodies, I’d feel like I was being choked. But I’ve worn crew necks to bed before.

Are you currently wearing jeans? Yes.

Do you buy eggnog around the holidays? Why is this the second survey in like 4 days that’s asked me about eggnog?? Anyway, we usually get some.

Have you gone to a coffee shop within the past week? [i.e. Starbucks] I don’t think I have.

Would you like to be able to read thoughts? If I could control it sure.

Are you often the last one to understand a joke? Nah.

Your first black eye: Did you give it or get it? I’m not sure.

Do you think baseball is a dying professional sport in America? Definitely not in my family.

Does playing the guitar make a guy more attractive? Eh. Depends on the guy.

Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes.

What does your hair look like at the moment? I HATE the color SO much but I didn’t want to dye it and have it fade right away in the sun/chlorine.

Are you mad right now? No, just tired.

Who did you spend your summer with last year? Mostly my family and friends.

Did you eat a cookie today? No.

Have you heard of wreck this journal? Yes, I have one somewhere.

Do you know any one who lives in California? Yes.

Have you ever been told you were a good writer? Yes.

What do you put on your baked potatoes? Butter and sour cream for sure. Sometimes chives and cheese.

Have you ever been on a farm? Yes.

Who are the last three texts/dms you received from? Margo, Lolly, Mark.

What are you listening to? Nothing.

Are you one to take naps? Nope. They make me feel gross.

Did you ever have braces? Nope.

Have you kissed anyone in the last five days? Yes.

Are you afraid of flying? No. It makes me a little uneasy, sure, but overall I don’t mind it.

Do you have freckles? On my arms.

Do you have plans for today? Work and then I have to finish cleaning my dad’s to prepare for my friends staying there this week with me until we leave for the Dells on Friday.

Would you rather date someone five years older or five years younger than you? My husband is 5 years older than me.

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? He’s sleeping or just getting up.

If you had to live off one type of fruit, which would you pick? Probably avocado.

What were you doing at 7:45AM this morning? It hasn’t hit that quite yet lol.

What was the last thing you drank? Iced Coffee.

Where did you get the shirt your wearing? Torrid.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? Nope, I have work at 6 am.

How often do you drink Monster? Never, I don’t like how energy drinks taste.

Are you easy to get along with? Yeah.

Are you short? 5'2".

Can you ever get enough of mac ‘n’ cheese? Nope, I love mac n cheese.

Are you allergic to nuts or dairy products? Nope.

Do you have trust issues? Yes, in that certain people have let me down time after time when I’ve asked them to take care of something or help me with something.

Is there someone you want to let go of? My fucking brother in law but unfortunately I’m stuck with him.

Do you have any regrets? Eh.

Has anyone ever called the cops on you? Yes.

How old are you? 34.

Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? I did actually. Margo and I were chatting on twitter until we fell sleep.

Do you go to church every Sunday? Nope, I never go.

Can you recall the last time you liked someone? Right now.

Do you like your height? I’m fine with it. It’s never negatively impacted my life.

Is the last person of the opposite sex you texted single? He is not. He’s married to me.

Could you go a week without brushing your teeth? I have before, depression is fun y’all.

What day is it? Monday.

Are you usually awake at midnight? Not usually. I tend to pass out between 10pm-11pm on work nights. On weekends I’ll usually be up until at least midnight.

Does it get really cold where you live? Yes.

When you get home from school / work do you change into your pjs right away? My pants and bra usually come right off lol.

Have you ever been peer pressured to smoke pot? I wasn’t pressured into it, no.

Have you ever played the game Sims 3? Nope.

What is the temperature currently in the town you live in? 64F.

Do you ever actually drink milk alone? Rarely. This was actually in another survey I did recently too. Who is making these? Lol. Anyway, I will drink it with a PB&J or Oreos or something every once in a while.

If you don’t have one already, would you consider getting an iPhone? Nope.

What year were you born in? 1989.

[unsleepingtales]

The penultimate episode of burrow’s end! Here we go!!

Hi little guys!!

Oh noooo

Shoutout to the dome art fr

OH that’s so real Rashawn. Sometimes the character voice is not there when you think it is and you need to say your activation phrases.

The little fist bump :)

Erika’s outfit is sick

MeatWolf! Merch! When!

Ooo

THEY LEVELED UP TO TEN?????

So Thorn is now level 5 cleric and level 5 ranger. Fascinating

Just stress demolished a sleeve of jaffa cakes in under ten minutes. This is fine.

Yeah there’s a lot of humans in the world I’m sorry

Hazmat suit lore lmao

😏 humans ey

JESUS Brennan

I love the intent and thought that goes into all of these descriptions.

Okay Tula has ALSO taken cleric levels. Level 3 life domain cleric.

Everyone starts bleeding out of their ears.

This is such bad things 😭 no it’s good ✋😭 I hate this

We’re all good at the same amount!

What coin babe

Thorn’s lightning bolt is looking way more hazard/electricity/warning than natural thunderstorm this time

“It all has to be done exactly right” has never gone badly for anyone ever.

Bennet!

That’s not a great way to make your dreams come true I think

🔵 leash 🔵

🔵 fascist 🔵

Ooooh Viola level 3 fighter!

Oh damn okay

It’s EMBROIDERED

It has her NAME ON IT

I’m fine this is fine

Love the law enforcement disdain <3

WHAT

Okay I’m glad Brennan’s on board with that lol

Ava cleric levels??? Ava Grave Domain cleric????

Ahahahaha okay so Lila is back to being an arcane trickster rogue but she is ALSO a wizard

Ava actually seeking information!

Oooh the actual strawberry candies!! Those are so good I haven’t had one in ages

Didn’t Tula heal him??

He’s allergic to pet dander 🥲

This really supports the headcanon I saw that Meredith and Lukas were Bennett’s family before Ava asked if he was single and the Tula/Bennett thread started

Some incredible insight from Ava there

PANTS

(i panicked)

Pants yeah! Let’s roll!

I am really craving those strawberry candies now lmao

That’s actually very coherent

WHAT ARE YOUR SKILLS

Okay actually going to sleep right when you lay down is a skill. I would love to be able to do that.

Jasper/Thorn constantly being horrified by the children is delightful

Ooh okay that’s a brilliant use of a d100 actually. I might steal that.

Damn

What a reference Brennan

Nest-iest/NAstiest

They booby trapped the door

BARDIC?

Oh lovely just some exposed live wires now

Transcripts?

Personal logs????

Wenabocker is hot I’ve said it before I’ll say it again

Creeeeepyyyyy

21,730 stoats total is a lot. 400 dying in one week is also a lot.

Okay so resource allocation is Way more dangerous than advertised.

Who is Phoebe??

Love long lasting effects of combat!!

Hester is such a good name

Aaaa the illustration for them creeps me out so much

Hester and Phoebe were siblings ok

I’m definitely gonna need to rewatch this lore drop tomorrow

I am so curious about the naming convention

IS WENABOCKER’S BODY IN THE CLOSET RN

This is horrifying!

Fascinated by the implication that prolonged exposure to radiation causes gender shit lmaooo

Ok so there’s not a human corpse in the closet. That’s good.

Is anyone gonna read stoat pope’s journal?

Ok thank you

That’s creepy! This is fucking creepy!

Ha ha ha ha ha how fine and normal and regular

Okay so it’s not gender it’s religion and politics?

She has fireball now? Sick

Motherfucking hell indeed Izzy

They respect the badge without any context or knowledge of the person wearing it hmmmmmm

God the only phrase in my mind is she’s spreading the gospel. Is that fucked up.

Let us celebrate nuance!

Oh noooo

I need to go back and check because I thought the human stuff on the dm screen might be new I didn’t remember it being there before but also maybe I just didn’t notice it? Or maybe the screen actually changed.

Ok my wifi has just cut out for the second time in an hour so I think that’s my sign to go to sleep and finish this tomorrow :)

Ok I’m back I’m awake Henry Kissinger is dead it’s gonna be a good day

Oooh the urge to metagame

AHAHAHAAA

Awww her best friend

Ooh what’s he planning

Snacks!

All of last bast as favored terrain!! That’s so cool!

Oh rangers are cool. They always have been but rangers are cool.

OH OK

(Players lamenting another low Siobhan roll)

Everyone is celebrating Lukas’ nat20 and Brennan just looks so done 😭

The sound effect of the falling stoats aaaa

The sitcom moment

Y’all remember the eeeeeeeeeeee that Murph kept making during neverafter? That’s the noise I keep making

Another hallway?

Oh no I just remembered that the alarms go off at some point in this episode

Oh ok it’s a different exit

The crunch is time

You’re gonna cast magic on it before you’ve talked to it??

Just full astral projection out of the body

The framing I’m gone I’m dead

Oh god

Oh boy

WHAT

BABE WHAT

‘Going’ would imply that there’s a road back 😭

Yeah ofc she’s terrified oh my god

I love her

Oh she’s got asthma she’s just like me fr

Keep asking about wenabocker!

When did she say she didn’t have kids??

HES ALIVE???

Pre-read hear!

Ooh she got a you can certainly try

Ayo??

Oh my god

Oh good god

Oddly enough this is the chillest I've felt about an episode ending in a while lmao

So the alarms going off was a trailer edit and not part of the episode. ok.

I hope this goes ok.

[milkeyrainbow]

Why can’t I just ask for help, a talk about how fucked my thoughts are…

Why my face brightens up and that fucking smile won’t come off each time I’m asked if I’m alright I automatically say “ Always and it’s wonderful “ while tightening my fists inside my pockets distracting my head from my scars that won’t stop itching and reminding me how much my skin carves more and it might be wonderful if I feed it my blood…

WHY IT TAKES HOURS TO GET MYSELF TOGETHER AFTER MENTAL BREAKDOWN AND DAYS OF GUILT, DISAPPOINTMENT, SELF DISGUST THEN ANGER TILL I RAGE HARMING AND START A CIRCLE OF ALIENATION.

And when it hits at work or in public, I might just… disappear for a moment and be back within blink of an eye👁️ no pain, no thoughts, no regrets, just more LIES AND THAT FAKE HAPPINESS AND PLAY PRETENDING THAT I CARE ABOUT EVERYONE AROUND… So I can burn down mentally, drain myself from every little positivity hidden inside me, come back home hoping that it’s the last trip of my life…

Realise what I’ve done to myself; just a little scratch to ground my thoughts and irritating itching, will be gone by tomorrow…- It won’t be gone, because it wasn’t just a “scratch” never was, never will be, just dirty, deep, trench dug deep under my skin that should be cleaned and stitched up or at least sealed tightly…

And the circle is closing… How could I let it happen? Why didn’t I just tell someone I’m not fine? I’m sure it was just a mark but.. I don’t even know anymore…

Now I’m sitting on the bathroom floor gazing into nothing, I hear the whispers, random conversation between people I care about, I know… I’m alone, nobody knows about my pretty little shiny mask I just wore crashing and falling into pieces… “ I forgot my prescription pills again… Well it ain’t helping shit” thinking that maybe the voices ain’t real but they’re right, I know- I am a fucking monster, I’m a lier, I’m useless, waste of air, a piece of flesh with no soul, IM NEVER ENOUGH, that’s why my father died, my grandparents, my friends, my dog- the only sunshine I’ve had left my childhood loyal friend, baby, reason I’m alive… GONE… I should join them… NO I SHOULD BREATHE AND GET THESE FUCKING PILLS all of them at once JUST ONE PLEASE ye one for each voice that’s getting louder and one for each death you caused I CANT BREATH I CANT THINK ITS TOO LOUD!

It’s cold I’m shivering on a bathroom floor, I’m naked and there’s blood all over me, my head hurts, I need something for that headache, I need to take pills and iron tablets… I don’t want to look, I don’t want to know, just lukewarm bubble bath… it burns, I don’t care anymore, I failed myself again, the weight and sick fear against myself crushes me down, I won’t be able to wash it off, NHS… well… pills might calm down vocal hallucinations but won’t calm down my thoughts and physical sickness I’ll carry with me for the next couple of weeks…antipsychotics and sleeping tablets are addictive so I’ve been told to go for a evening walk before going to bed *Qualified staff* NHS and my doctors didn’t stand even close to “qualified people” but I’ll take an advice…

And here I am, on the edge of a trespass bridge above M25, smoking cigarette and fantasising about death, the “ easy way out” I feel it, I’m waiting for that slight impulse that will take me to nothingness. TODAY IS THE DAY FUCK THAT SHIT!

“RAINBOW!” I hear my coworker in a distance, it has to be a pisstake mate! “ Are you alright? What are you doing here?” Annoying voice continues like a painful static in your brain. “Always, wonderful! Living the dream, ain’t mine but still, having evening walk advised, fresh air fresh mind, getting ready for tomorrow, it’s Monday innit” I feel my insides collapse, turning my stomach upside down each time I hear those words my mouth spits out without any consent… I’m scared, I don’t want to go through that again… If there’s God please have mercy…. My eyes are filling up with a single teardrop it managed to produce in the past two months as I walk off the trespass next to my colleague- She talks about some sort of inspection and a visit from higher management. I hear my voice, I can’t distinguish the words… I’m laughing and jumping from excitement… it feel like a movie but instead of being cosy and munching popcorn I’m hyperventilating and whining silently while shattered, sharp pieces of the mask that broke in the bathroom last night comes back piece by piece piercing violently my pale face, like little lightweight, mist-like raindrops when falling on your face in November evening as you gaze into the universe admiring its creations before the dark clouds will take it all away from you and the darkness will embrace you promising the sunlight in the morning…

My raindrops are made from glass and pins and razor blades, and it’s not like a mist, more like heavy rainstorm hitting your face as you speed 200m/ph with nothing protecting you from cruelty and reality of human trauma, mental illnesses, loneliness, worst fears, helplessness and lack of empathy and understanding… fear of rejection… No reason that keeps you alive, reason I’ve been looking for every single day, one point proving I me there is something… Everything loses its meaning, once your skin and flesh had turn into nothing and all the pieces that caused you so much pain drill into your skull… it turns into a new face, your one doesn’t matter anymore, nobody seen the real face why would they care, all THEY know is that shining smile, bright face that cares only about others, always happy and ready to cheer everyone around up! THIS IS THE FACE YOU DREAMT ABOUT! CONGRATULATIONS NOW EVERYONE KNOW YOU AS SOMEBODY THAT YOU WILL NEVER BE! IT WILL AFFECT YOUR ACTIONS TOO!

MAKE FRIENDS YOU WONT LIKE, GOING CLUBS YOU HATE, DRINKING TEQUILA! HAVING FUN, TAKE FUCK TONNES OF DRUGS AND SIGN UP FOR SHIT YOU WILL NEVER GO!

Sounds nice… it used to be helpful, most of the time it was fun, then it just went downhill, putting the mask on and taking it off hurts more and more, so you decide to leave it on, so it takes control over your body, it melts into one - The Monster that will slowly kill you, destroy your body, relationships, strong bonds you’ve been creating with family and childhood friends, it will push away people you love most and become nobody, It turns you into a cutting board, knife holder and tear keeper for anyone you meet. It will make fun of your own trauma and insecurities until it will wear off and eventually the mask will fall off your face and break into a bilion pieces and turn into a shotgun shell that will blow your face off twice as much as in the beginning, but until it will you’re left alone, bleeding out ashamed, scared and filled with frustration real YOU leaving you on your own with you people you don’t know in the body you don’t recognise anymore… it will wait for the annihilation of your own being… It will wait until you won’t be able to live your own live and proceed with eternal sleep hopefully or you will try to retrieve what once was yours, family, friends, old habits, just so it can come back again, causing more damage, so you will give up…

Time is verifying your choice slowly… DONT LET IT USE YOU AS OLD TAPE IN A LOOP, JUST LIKE UT DID TO ME AND AGAIN AND AGAIN… but each time I’m back to this monsters live I care less, I have no purpose in my life I want to die, but I won’t let my monster be, I will suffer as long as THAT suffers, I guess we both waiting for the moment where the body can’t handle no more and stops its function and will get buried with or without the mask on…

THIS IS THE WAR WITH MYSELF…

I don’t even know if all that make any sense I couldn’t stop writing, the whispers created a white noise and ye, this is how I feel and struggle with, English is not my first language but since I’m living in the uk it just comes and goes and… why the fuck am I writing it ? Nobody fucking cares, I’m laying in my bed isolated, no fucking intention to crawl out of it… is too loud, I need to hide my arms till it will heal up… and I don’t want that fucking thing back, I just want to be me, fucking rotting in bed no sleep no food just me myself and I and books and that fucking phone finally made something useful I don’t answer the text or calls, I’m talking with …. Nevermind nobody will ever fucking read it xd

Jebać stare baby prądem i czcić Boga Hideo KOJIMA amen 🙏🏻

Zagrałabym w death stranding brakuje 4 prepersow na full pizde i będę miała max, wszystko wbite, każdy zadowolony.

W tedy zacznę ja od początku na super hard.

Pozdrawiam… a chuj w sumie nie mam kogo NARTY SANKI DPIERDALAM.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, AUGUST 31, 1996 I’m really tired now. I had been up for nearly 18 hours when I fell asleep and I only slept around 6 hours. I think it was Tom’s snoring that woke me up. I just hope I get caught up on my sleep, cuz I’m looking forward to Tom’s idea for early tomorrow morning. He’s gonna go get his dad’s car and we may go to the Grand Canyon or something.

I went ahead and forged Andy’s signature as a witness on that form. I told Andy I signed it Mark A. M. and that they wouldn’t check. Tom said all they could do was ask him if he signed it and all he has to do is say he did sign it.

Yesterday, Tom reminded me we can’t know what’s going on with me and I shouldn’t think I do, and that I haven’t been having a miscarriage. He told me a miscarriage wouldn’t have caused nearly two weeks of spotting, that it would’ve been a sudden thing, and then I’d have had a regular period. He says we can’t know for sure, but that I’ve had a lot of symptoms of pregnancy. He says I’ve had some tingling in my nipples, which is one of the early signs. It’s so subtle, though, that I’m not totally sure if that was what it was. He says I was peeing frequently, which is another thing you’re supposed to do in the beginning as the kidneys filter the blood and he also says I’ve been moody. But he always tells me I’m moody overall. He says he still thinks something’s changing in me and that we might call the doctor after Labor Day, but if anything was growing in me, it’s gone now. Today, which makes day 13, I’ve had a little more in the way of cramps and also, the spots were bigger and more frequent. When I got up I wiped off 4 bigger spots.

I can see God just laughing his ass off at me saying, “And you thought for a second there that I might just change my mind?!”

Yeah, well, I refuse to cry. I’m sick of giving in to his teasing, torturing, and games. I’m not gonna be the emotional basket case he expects me to be, but I learned something from all this. I really would’ve been a good mother, cuz God doesn’t give good mothers kids anymore. I’ve had to really lecture myself, too, so as not to fall out of reality. I told myself, he’s not gonna change his mind. What makes you think that after so long, he’s gonna let you have a kid? Did you really think he may change his mind? How stupid of you to even have a sliver of hope. You knew this would be the next step. You knew he was gonna begin this whole new phase of teasing you as far as a kid goes. God only wants to hurt you. He doesn’t love everybody and he certainly doesn’t love you.

Like I’ve always said, if I were smart, I’d get on birth control or have my tubes tied or have a hysterectomy cuz that’d really piss God off. But then he’d just go and do something else to hurt me.

Since I know God can and does make mistakes and since there are about 6 billion people in this world that God may not always be able to keep constant tabs on, I wonder if he “slipped” and made the mistake of letting me come out here and have Tom. Since God loves to fuck with the things I love, want, or mean a lot to me, I wonder if he’d ever do something to hurt Tom just to hurt me. It’s a scary thought.

I’d love to believe that my not sleeping too much lately and all that’s been going on with me is a sign of a kid to come and that God’s getting me in the practice of having my sleep cut short. And that the stereo breaking is compensation for something good to come, but I know better. I’m using my old box now, so I’m not totally without a stereo. I will catch up on my sleep soon enough and I know what’s physically going on with me. My body attempted to conceive, but thanks to God and the DES, it didn’t and that’s why I’ve had 13 days of spotting.

Later…

I just spoke to Andy a little while ago and let him know what was going on. He said he was sorry and didn’t know what to say. Well, you can’t change fate or fight God, I reminded him.

He says he’s tired of being tested so much by God. I can totally relate to that, of course. I don’t know why he’s doing this to me or what he wants from me. I wish that if he can’t have a positive impact on my life he’d just leave me alone and write off my existence. What does he expect me to do? Break down and lose my mind? Well, I won’t. Go to a doctor for help? I won’t. Try to adopt? I won’t. What does he think he’s gaining by all this? Just a good laugh? Is he not only that sick, but is he that bored, too? Doesn’t he have anything better to do than keep picking at me with one thing after another?

How can Tom think that there’s nothing wrong with me and that something’s changing? How can he not believe, also, that it attempted to make a baby, but didn’t or that something’s wrong? The more I think about it, I don’t know if God would make sure something went wrong that’d cause me to have a hysterectomy. Or something that a doctor would tell me has made me sterile for sure. That would spoil his game. He wouldn’t be able to dangle the subject in my face and tease me with it and hurt me as much. He wants this to be a slow and agonizing process, whereas if I should suddenly be sterile, that’d put an abrupt stop to his games. I think that this isn’t the last time I’m gonna go through 12 days of spotting and 1 of a little more than spotting. I wouldn’t be surprised if this happens every few months. I also wouldn’t be surprised if I had a full flow tomorrow. Usually, when my period starts, the first day I have spots or a light flow and the next day I have a fuller flow.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 30, 1996 Now I know what happened, even though Tom says to give it 3 more weeks. He says I can’t know, but I do know. I also know God and the physical symptoms I have make what happened obvious. After putting together everything we read and found out, along with the fact that this is day 12 of the spotting (the longest time I ever bled/spotted), it’s obvious I had a miscarriage. We learned that 30%-50% of women have miscarriages when the egg and sperm meet, cuz it’s common for the genetic codes to be off. So my body attempted to get pregnant, but since that particular egg and sperm didn’t get along, the fetus automatically aborted itself.

See? I knew it. First God wanted to torture and tease me with his not cumming and now he’s on to tease me with miscarriages. He’s never gonna stop. He’s never gonna let me have a child.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 29, 1996 Tom did some research and left a message saying what he checked out was pretty much inconclusive, he couldn’t find too much on spotting, but that one of the first signs of pregnancy is an abnormal flow. He said he also read that ovulation doesn’t occur when I think it does. He said he read something about 2 days on the 8th day of the cycle is when you ovulate, then something about another 2 days after that. That’s odd.

I can’t believe, though, how much I’m just learning at 30 years old. I had no idea the fetus’s heart starts beating at only 3 weeks. I thought that’d be 2-3 months.

This makes day 11 of the spotting. Will it ever stop? See, I just can’t see for the life of me how a fetus could hang in there with all these spots. On the other hand, something may be going on, cuz how confused can a body get and for how long? After 11 days or more days, it ought to figure out what the hell it’s doing.

I have no idea why, but my CDs won’t play. Only tapes. Maybe this is a favor in itself as I’ve come to not like this stereo too much. It just doesn’t have enough power. Certain recordings that are older and softer have barely any volume to them with the damn thing up full blast.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 28, 1996 Well, I’m sorry my worries, curiosities, and questions about what’s been going on with me have worried Tom out of screwing me. I told him, though, to try not to worry and that I’m sorry if I shot our sex lives. He said we could start over and forget our worries and that we don’t need to take a month or so from sex to ease his worries. I just hope he isn’t using this as an excuse to not have sex for a while, to make me wait for it, or to stall my getting pregnant. So, I told him his “morning lecture” is to try not to worry and that while no doctor’s told us not to have sex, there’s no reason why we can’t cuz it’s fun and maybe, just maybe, we will get a kid out of it.

Tom said he’s gonna do some investigating on the computer when he gets home from work. Then he says he’ll print out what he finds out. He says what Kim said makes perfect sense, cuz the uterus always has blood in it. Oh, I didn’t know that. I thought it was just open space until the period set in. I also read that the egg busting out of the ovary walls can cause bleeding. I didn’t know that either.

He says not to worry still and that what I consider a heavy flow, might not be heavy to most women. And that what I consider spots may not even be noticeable to other women. Oh, they’d notice the spots I’ve been having, all right. There’s no missing them.

He still says nothing can get “flushed out” of the uterus either and that having spots here and there after conception may be more common than people think and the reason why it may not be mentioned is so that people don’t worry. It still seems weird that I wouldn’t have heard that as common knowledge, just like it’s common knowledge that women get periods.

Tom explained to me that something can be considered common, even if it’s 1 out of 100. For example, Tom said that to him one-eared people are common. I guess I get his point.

What do I still think? The same thing. I think the sperm threw off my cycle and that while it was just one day late, it was screwy, but I still say there’s not a chance in hell that I could’ve conceived.

Kim did say something about the number 2 popping into her head. Well, like I said, this is the second time he came when it was prime time for baby catching, but that’s still too soon. Also, I have to see Dr. Rauche on the 27th, and there’s a 2 in that date, but only for med refills.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 27, 1996 Well, so far I’m doing pretty well at cutting down on the smokes.

I spoke with Andy who read me a funny 6-page letter he’s sending to his friend Michelle. The one he lived with who’s gone to Michigan to be with her terminally ill father.

The spotting is tapering off once again, but who the hell knows what’s gonna happen? I guess I still think I’ll have a bit more of a period next month. By then my body should be back to normal. Especially with this limp dick around. Even if God changes his mind and allows me a child, am I gonna be able to get laid enough to do so?

My parents haven’t called and you know what I’m gonna say about them and that. Same thing I said about Jenny C. Why should either of us bother? We’re better off without associating with each other.

Later…

In a half-hour, I’ll be waking Tom up.

This having my cycle thrown off has kind of played on my emotions. It hasn’t been too, too bad, though, and I guess you could say that on a scale of 1-10, I’m affected by about a 4. This is the best I’ve felt physically, though, since the cycle went wacko. I feel less watery and my tits are a little less sore. My weight’s still up to 102, so that’s not cool. This shows I’m still “period constipated.” Usually, after a regular period, I’m 99.

Later…

Tom just went down on me and now he’s in the shower. He’ll be off to work in a half-hour.

He said I still had sort of an acid taste down there like I do when I have my period, but isn’t sure if it’s due to spotting or sweat, cuz I was walking on the walker to keep my mind off smoking. I said it had to be sweat due to not spotting for nearly 24 hours. Then he said it was time for my morning lecture and he reminded me that since I want a baby, I must remember that some things will be different. He said to expect changes and for some things to sometimes seem weird and unexplainable and don’t panic.

Is he saying he thinks I could be pregnant now? Well, I know I don’t know it all and that anything’s possible, but I think it’s OK and fair to say I’m 99.9% sure I’m not. Hopefully soon enough! I’m so afraid, though, to get my hopes up and am trying not to hope, due to past experiences we all know about.

MONDAY, AUGUST 26, 1996 Tom said not to worry, but it’s not that easy. I still fear new shit’s gonna be replacing old shit. If my body felt so out of whack due to an attempted pregnancy, imagine how it’d react if I could’ve gotten pregnant.

I just wish so many things weren’t so slow and confusing. I wish they could just be whatever they were gonna be without such long, drawn-out, weird, and complex build-ups. I mean it’s like, can’t we just get the show on the road? Meaning, if I can get pregnant, can’t I just get pregnant? If I can’t, then must there be all these weird and different body and emotional reactions, and can’t I just feel and function normally down there and overall and get on with my life? All the more I feel like God or just life itself was playing mind games with me. Does everything have to be such a mystery? Can’t anything in life just happen or not happen without any build-ups? Not worrying isn’t that easy for me as I’m not blessed with Tom’s ability to not worry and to not want to understand or analyze things. I wish I had a plan and simple answer to what’s going on and to what will happen, but I know that’s just wishful thinking God wants things I care about or want to be such a big deal with all the build-ups, confusion, and dramatics attached.

Later…

Tom asked me to do an art job for him to use in a game he wants to create on the computer that’s sort of like virtual reality. He wants me to pick a room and draw all 4 walls from close up and from further away. I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve got one wall done at a close-up range, so when he gets up I’ll see if I’m going about it right and giving him what he’s looking for. I know him, though. He’ll be too busy to ever use these drawings if I can do them correctly.

I haven’t heard from Andy tonight, so maybe he got all talked out.

Kim called early in the morning and we finally got our current Bob game down pat. She’s sending him a letter saying I called screaming on her machine about there being some trouble, but she hung up. She’ll also say she’s been trying to get a hold of me to find out what was wrong, but Tom and everyone haven’t heard from me. I’ll hold off all mail to him till after Labor Day, then both Kim and I will write to him as if nothing ever happened. If he asks us about it, we’ll deny knowing anything about it. He should get the letter today or tomorrow.

Yesterday I did up 5 envelopes for Larry with flowers and animals mainly and I’m gonna get working on my own stuff for my sketchbook.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 25, 1996 I was on the phone with Andy for just over two hours. He filled me in on the rest of the trip, but I’ll get into it later. I’m busy doing artwork now.

Later…

Yup, something’s definitely wrong with me. I’m spotting again. This definitely wasn’t a case of my plumbing getting confused. It’s a case of God making the final destruction of my female parts. I knew it, though. I just knew it. It’s time for me to deal with my next long-term punishment. This is perfect timing, too, since Tom began cumming a couple of months ago. Besides, when Jodi really wants something bad, Jodi can’t have it.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 24, 1996 So, Andy says he wasn’t in Springfield for too long and that he no longer gives a shit about his 3 brothers who are just fucked up, whacked out, and are coke heads who don’t give a shit about Andy. He said he had to see them and see how different they are and how screwed up they are and how much they couldn’t care less about him to realize that he’ll never need to cry over them again.

He spent the first night or two at the house he grew up in. He said he didn’t go walking in the woods as he had planned, but that he really enjoyed talking with Garry’s new girlfriend. Garry sleeps in the day and she’s up all night like Andy is, so they hit it off instantly and he said he learned all kinds of sad and embarrassing things about Garry. He says the only thing Garry’s got going for him is that he’s 42, but looks 10 years younger and is handsome and in shape.

The girlfriend, Jenny, is Puerto Rican. Garry only dates blacks and Puerto Ricans, from what I hear. He says Jenny’s very open sexually and was married for 18 years with 2 teenage boys. She and Garry love each other, but she says she’ll never marry Garry. She says they’re just having fun living with each other and having sex and doing coke.

Andy still has no desire to move back there but says he’d probably be great pals with Jenny if he lived there.

He said that the day he arrived, it was beautiful and everything was so green. He knew, though, not to let all that green fool him, for in a matter of months, it’d all be gone and he’d be cold and miserable if he were there.

During his 7 days at the beach, 5 of them were cloudy.

He says he saw all kinds of people we both knew, as well as people he just knew from Springfield. Yes, he saw Charlotte and Jim and Char said she was thrilled to get my letter and loved my artwork and is happy I’m happy.

A funny thing happened with Char. Andy said that as soon as he knocked on her door she jumped out and she gave him a big hug and kiss.

So? She does that all the time to me. Andy said that was her and me, not her and him (true) and said she hasn’t done that since he was little.

What’s the point? I asked. He said not only could he smell booze on her breath, but he knew it was Bacardi Rum, being the bartender that he is at the restaurant where he works. I guess Charlotte was really feeling good and who knows how much she is into drinking? I don’t remember her being an alcoholic, but those things were easily hidden from me as a kid, I wasn’t observant or perceptive, so who knows if she’s an alcoholic?

He says Family Pizza wasn’t the same as he always remembered it to be.

He says he saw Bea and her daughter Michelle who sort of lived behind us and he saw Natalie and Al M. He also named off seeing other people that I believe I remember. I have at least a vague memory of them, anyway. He says most of the people we knew are really aging.

He says he saw two of the Therus kids. One of them, the only son out of the 5, still looks like scummy white trash. I then remembered that I used to stick my tongue out at him constantly and that he one day threatened to rip my tongue out of my mouth and I just stood there laughing.

Here goes my fucking wisdom tooth bothering me again.

Anyway, he had a hard time sleeping there once David, Kelly, and their two kids got there. They’d get up and be louder than hell early in the mornings. That’s families for you and people with kids always think they own the world.

He said he was walking on the beach alone one night and he was dead center on the beach by the shore when that mortal, terrifying vibe came over him. A voice said to him to get home now. Now! So he did and then the voice said to turn off the lights in the cottage and make it look like he was asleep. He never did see anything or anyone, but he says the vibe told him that a serial killer was lurking around and would’ve killed him. He says he knew he’d have killed anyone just for the thrill of it.

One night he met this girl Lisa who was in her late 20s, was there alone and was renting a 3-bedroom cottage for a week at just over $500. That’s a lot of fucking money for a week! She’s a receptionist at a law firm and they hit it off really well. One night he and Lisa and a couple of other teenagers were climbing onto the flat rocks when a female Puerto Rican security guard on that beach asked them to leave. The teenagers left, then Andy showed her his license. Then he explained that he only gets to be there once every two years and that that was Lisa’s first time there and he asked if they could stay a little while. She said sure and she and the dog she had in her truck joined them. They all talked for 2½ hours. Her name was Olivia and he says she was my type. Tall, dark, and feminine.

Andy found out that people in a nearby cottage own those flat rocks and how they bitch about teens having sex on the flat rocks and leaving rubbers and beer cans in that area and their lawn. If someone got hurt on those rocks at night, they’re also liable for that.

Some soap star also lives nearby that Andy said he couldn’t care less about.

So Andy thought it was nice of Olivia and was grateful to her that she kicked off everyone else, but let him and Lisa stay. They talked about all kinds of things. Olivia and her cop husband were from Texas, but they got transferred to the Niantic area.

As Lisa and Andy were walking back to their cottages for the night, Andy told her that he believed there was a purpose for their meeting each other. It turns out that Lisa, like us, always wanted to move far from home, but is very close to her family. Andy told her that if she’s that close to her family, don’t move.

Later…

I got a little dizzy at one point during the night, but feel better now.

Andy never called back, so I guess he fell asleep.

Andy said that while Bea would be standing up on the beach, she’d do what Andy calls a Hollywood pose to show off. I can picture this, too, and I’m anxious to see Andy impersonate her.

He also said Charlotte was really trying hard to cover up and hide her buzz.

According to him, Natalie must be losing her mind cuz she asked Andy 3 different times how life in California was. I wouldn’t know, and Andy would have to remind her that he lives in Arizona.

How fucking nice! Char says my folks played them our wedding video where my hair looked fried, my face looked shitty and I looked 125 pounds. Char says she loved it and I guess Mom and Dad were pointing out the parts they liked. What was Char supposed to do, though? Tell Andy I looked like shit?

Tom’s getting up now, so I guess I’ll call it quits with writing for now.

Later…

Tom told me the secret and yes, it’s a stupid piddly-assed thing. I mean, it’s a nice thing, but it’s something I knew would happen someday and I don’t see why this ever had to be a secret. The grand secret is that in a month our bills will be paid. I knew this when he said his father wanted us to have that money. I swear, his wait on this or that obsession is getting awfully old. The same with his repositioning stuff I deliberately move out of order, while I swear I’ll put stuff back where it goes.

Later…

I feel really bad about something I did to Tom earlier. When I got up I was a bit tight and wheezy and he was on the phone giving computer advice to who I thought was Wendy and I thought, here we go again. She’s gonna use him for free advice and interrupt our time together.

Then I went into the kitchen and when I sat down to eat there were shitloads of pie crust crumbs on my chair and all over the floor, so I started bitching. He then got off the phone and I started chewing him out and asking why he didn’t offer to whack my back or make me coffee if he heard me wheezing and hacking up a storm. He said he had gestured to me in case I needed anything, but I didn’t see him. Also, he’d been talking to Carla. Someone he used to work with at AMEX and he was bummed out for a few reasons. He had said he didn’t think it was a bad time to take the call since I was asleep and he didn’t know when I was getting up.

He also felt like he’d lost a dream cuz he wants to work with computers and you have to build up a clientele somehow. He says, though, he knows I didn’t do it on purpose, that he wasn’t trying to judge me, and that it’s done and over with. Well, on purpose or not, I still feel really guilty and I shouldn’t have jumped the gun, but I’ll get mine. If God doesn’t punish me, he will. He swears he won’t, but we’ve been through similar situations before. Consciously or subconsciously, he’ll move shit in the house out of order, pick a fight with me or make sure we don’t have sex too often.

I offered to put off the kid he swears is possible for another month or two to punish me, but he says that’d be punishing him also, cuz that’s his dream, too. Yeah, well, I still wouldn’t be surprised if there was no “opportunity” to have sex during my next mid-cycle. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was back to his old ways sexually. Yes, I feel that worry again, cuz this morning we had sex in his favorite position and he never came. He still says don’t worry. I’ll be pregnant in a month. He’s sure of it and that’s the truth, he says. He also says his cumming isn’t always gonna be predictable or something he can control. I had a slight flicker of a light vibe that told me I’d have no period or spots next month, but that seems physically, technically, logically, and scientifically impossible. Tom disagrees with me, but I had an idea of at least one thing that could’ve held him off at cumming all that time. I’ve thought of this several times, but here’s why it seems more of a certainty to me. When we were first married, we were fine financially, but almost right afterward we were broke till recently. Well, we agreed to wait on a kid when we first married, but I find it more than a coincidence that he starts cumming when we’re the best off financially since being married. I understand this, though. It makes sense. I also think God has almost all couples broke their first two years or so of marriage to test their relationships.

I asked Tom if the reason why he didn’t tell me he thought my body would react this way and spot was so I wouldn’t have it playing on my mind. He said, yes. That’s cool. I’ll bet he wouldn’t tell me if he thought I was pregnant till a doctor confirmed that, but that’s cool too, and understandable.

Andy did fall asleep last night at midnight but will be calling later. He won’t be coming over tonight cuz Tom says he’s got to wait and see if he needs those forms notarized.

Tom still says everything will work out the way we want. I hope so. I haven’t been feeling bad, but not too great either. No spots or cramps, but physically and mentally I feel like I’ve got PMS and right on the brink of ragging.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 23, 1996 I’ve got the rest of the movie taping. It’s on Cinemax where there are no commercials, but this way I can zap out any boring parts.

Yes, all’s still fine with next door. So fine, that I fear they’re getting ready to move and soon enough I’ll have to go through the same old shit with new neighbors. I just hope to hell they don’t have some kind of plan. Maybe they said to each other, “Let’s be as quiet as we can for a while, then just when they think we’re gonna stay that way, we’ll raise holy hell.”

It’ll take time for me to not worry as much about them, but the bulk of the worry’s gone, thanks to Tom.

So, that’s it. That’s why the scale says I’m only 100 pounds when I’m so damn bloated. I’ll bet the battery is dying. I’m sure I’m really about 106 pounds.

Later…

Well, I guess Andy will be calling me any minute to tell me all about his trip. I just left him a message to call me when he can, but he or Laura was on the phone.

Tom set up my old speakers to the stereo, so now I’ve got 4 speakers once again. Now it’ll hopefully sound better and a bit more powerful. That was really sweet of him. I’m so glad to have such a brainy hubby.

The spotting has stopped. It kind of stopped last night. This is the first period where I needed no Ibuprofens or big pads in about 10 years.

I’m still really worried about taking on any full-time responsibilities and any changes, due to my schedule problem, but I’m still sure enough that I won’t ever have to worry about that. I used to worry really bad about my teeth, so sure that I’d be a singer, and I just didn’t want to embarrass myself by being a singer with crooked yellow teeth. So what I’m saying is, I learned not to worry over nothing, if I can help it, and also things that are still unlikely to happen or that I don’t know if they could even happen.

On September 15th, it’ll be 28 days since I began spotting, so we’ll see if next month’s spots are the same and on time or not.

I had a funny idea that had me giggling. No, I’m sure I won’t be doing this, cuz no one’s worth it. Certainly not Tammy and my folks, but what if I participated in the depths of their exaggerations, and twisting things around and even their lies? I think they still do tell bigger lies here and there. We all tell occasional white lies. Like I told them I’m dancing to get them off my ass, but I’m talking about constant bullshit or really twisting things around and hyping things up. Like I said, this is just something that I imagine, but what if I surprised Tammy and Mom and Dad with any more letters I may send them if I do? I could say something in Tammy’s letter like, oh, I didn’t know you got pissed off at Mom so bad one day that you ran out of the house stark naked when you were 18. And in my parent’s letter, I could say, I didn’t know you guys used to constantly talk about taking out a huge insurance policy on me, then whacking me off. Then, of course, they’ll go jump on the phone to each other and say, “How dare you say that! This is bullshit!”

Later…

Andy told me lots of stuff about his vacation and says he still has lots more to tell. He’s gonna call me back later and then he’ll tell me more stuff and I’ll tell him about the spotted period and how this ordeal made me go from 100% sure I can’t get pregnant to 90% sure I can’t get pregnant. He says no problem with coming over tomorrow night to sign the form for Tom.

Also, he still wants to read my journals. I can’t believe I said this, but I said I’d let him read the typed versions, but he’s not to tell Tom. I told him too, that once he read my journals, he’ll see that nothing he could say or do or write would be as embarrassing as my journals.

I’m gonna run out of room in this journal, so I’ll write in as much as I can, then jump to the next journal to finish off all about Andy’s trip. So, here are the highlights of Andy’s trip, since I know he’d love for me to document it.

Here’s something that’s pretty ironic, for starters. Back when I was younger and more concerned about what others thought of me and wished someone would put out good words for me, no one did. But now that I couldn’t care less, Andy’s running around the beach doing this big ‘Jodi Promotion’ thing. It’s nice to know that he cared enough to, though. I mean it was nice of him to tell people he wishes they could see me now, my life’s the exact opposite of when I was back east, I’m such a good artist, etc. I’m glad he and Tammy didn’t get to talk long since she was busy. That way she didn’t get a chance to cry all over his shoulder about anything going on with me or the family. That’s my job to do with Andy when I feel like it. Guess I’m not totally innocent of bitching to others, too, about problems I have with others. I think the difference is that I still go to the source first and I don’t say I got hung up on when I was the one that hung up on whoever.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 22, 1996 I’m almost done reading the Amy Fisher story I borrowed from Mom. This girl did very wrong, and deserves to be locked up with the key thrown away, but she sure was fucked over and taken advantage of. All the people involved are classic examples of how dishonest, complex, contradicting, lying, exaggerating, and desperate for attention people are. The world is so much into opposite doing. You tell the world right; the world goes left.

I had another weird, yet funny bird dream last night. We moved, and there was a big hole in the bedroom screen of the window. Maybe 6 inches wide. Tom said he didn’t feel like fixing it right away, so I went to bed with a can of Raid by the bed. Somehow, either we moved the birds over there with us, or they followed us and as I lay there on my way to sleep, I thought to myself how I was curious to see where the birds would choose their eating spot to be.

So as I was waking up when the sun was halfway up, the birds flew in through the window one by one. They flew from the bedroom to the kitchen and I said, “Oh, so this is where you guys want to be fed, huh?”

As I threw seeds for them all over the kitchen floor I said, “Shit! I shouldn’t have done that cuz I don’t want to always have to step around seeds, pull seeds from under appliances, and have the floor all dutied up and now it’s too late. I can never get them out of here now.”

Later…

I wonder if Andy’s back yet. I’m glad my friend’s back or is on his way back, but boy is he gonna be desperate to catch up on his long phone convos! Yuck! He still loves to live on the phone.

Tammy got the bird pictures today along with my letter. She didn’t get into my letter, gladly enough, cuz I’m sick of it and my days of heavy-duty and heated phone conversations or letters are over with as far as my family back east goes. We heard each other out and that’s it.

We got a real kick-ass dust storm at around 4 PM. One of my birds was trying to fly and it looked so funny cuz his wings were flapping, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Not till he turned around and rode with the wind onto the patio where I gave him some seeds. I know birds can sense when a storm is coming, but I guess they can’t sense those sudden dust storms. I hope they’re all OK.

I guess Tom got tired of figuring and speculating about what was going on with me. He says he doesn’t know and has no guesses or ideas about it. He doesn’t like it when I say anything with certainty, yet I do feel almost certain that my body simply got confused and couldn’t get pregnant and couldn’t kick in a regular period, either. I’m still a little watery and my boobs are a little sore, but the spotting has stopped. I’m still sure (I can say whatever I want in here and as often without annoying anyone) that my next period will either be the same or heavier.

Poor Tom overdid today. He trimmed the hell out of the Palo Verde tree out front which hasn’t been trimmed in ages. He conked out a short while ago.

Later…

Oh, yuck! I am so bloated right now, it’s pitiful. The weird thing about it is that I’m only 100 pounds yet I feel 120 pounds.

I realized something about these journals. Guess I don’t ever have to worry about anyone ever reading them, dead or alive, cuz most people hate repetition. Well, there’s certainly enough in here! That I will admit. I wonder what the next long-term, weird, unique issue I’m going to have to deal with for at least two or more years will be.

Robin tried to come by last night, so to speak. She was crying, it seemed, begging me to forgive her for being wrong about next door. She said she would never tell me anything in the future without consulting with God first, for a guarantee of what she says. She also says that she knows I’ve had my curiosities and questions lately, then she goes on to say she won’t give details, but that this time, there’s a very, very very, very excellent chance I’m pregnant. Uh-huh, right. Go away, I told her. Just go away. Whatever’s gonna happen or not happen is gonna be for me to see and find out on my own. Not what she or anyone else says.

Well, Tom’s got 24 days left to tell me what this big secret of his was. I’ve had my ideas, but am still stumped as to what it could be. My guess is a trip to California or some kind of trip, cuz it’s coming up on his vacation time. It better not be, “Guess what? We can go see your family now!”

No fucking way. That’s OK. I’ll pass. If they ever want to come out here, fine. But I ain’t going there and that includes everyone I know there back east from my parents to Tammy and Larry and Kim. If anyone wants to see me, they’re gonna have to find a way to get out here.

Piggy really, really loves his water bowl. He drinks out of it constantly and he loves his new salt spool, too.

Well, I think I’ll go finish up that Amy Fisher book now. Tomorrow I’ll do some more envelopes up for Larry and maybe some drawings of my own, too, in my sketchbook.

Later…

I didn’t finish the Amy book, but I came close. I’ll finish it later or tomorrow. In a little while, I’m gonna watch TV. That is if the reception’s any good. For now, it’s more computer games.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 21, 1996 Right after I wrote how the spotting stopped, I had more. On and off my body still feels like it does right before my period. Tom still says everything’s OK, don’t worry, it’s just the body trying to get used to the change and trying to get pregnant. I think it’s a little late for that this month, but Kim told me something rather interesting. She said it’s very rare, but she’s known and heard of women getting all their periods during pregnancy. She says, though, that it is fairly common for women to get 2-3 periods after conceiving as the body can’t always make the instant change, like mine, and the hormone levels don’t always settle in right away. She said if the uterus lining has given off blood in the uterus, it can’t contain itself, it has to flow out and no, it won’t flush out a fetus. Not unless it’s gushing or there’s some other problem with the fetus that’s causing the bleeding.

She also says I’m right, I’m probably not pregnant now, but on my way. You do never know, though, she says.

True, that this experience has sparked a ray of hope in me, but I gotta watch out. What if I’m being the same old sucker I was with Scott, the singing, and all kinds of other things? Am I just getting my hopes up for nothing as seems to be the case with almost everything I really want? I just don’t want to go back to being that hurt little sucker, who dreamt silly and impossible dreams for nothing. Is God up there with a teasing grin on his face, just waiting to snatch this dream away with such unthinkable finality? Is he just waiting for the joke to be on me, so he can laugh like hell with an I-told-you-so and a you-should’ve-known-better attitude?

I best forget it for now, till and if anything happens, and keep it as pushed out of my mind as possible till I find out for sure whether I really can or cannot get pregnant.

Later…

The people next door have still been quiet. Thank God. Thank God a million times over, as it really lifts the stress off me.

I’m spotting again. Tom said don’t worry. He says my period can be anything but normal this month, and then after that, too, till it exists no more. He said if it had been normal, then he’d worry. I have a feeling, though. If I can and do get pregnant, I can’t see myself getting pregnant, having no bleeding or spots during pregnancy, then having regular periods after the baby’s born. I see myself spotting throughout the pregnancy (maybe by the 3rd or 4th month it’d stop) then slowly regaining a normal period cycle after birth. I know that’s common as the body can’t just instantly adapt to major changes. After my period returned after the near 3 years I didn’t get them, they returned slowly. I had 4 lights ones a year, then in a couple of years, they were normal. I’d think they’d start up faster than that, though, as 3 years is a much longer time for the body to be out of the practice of getting periods than 9 months is. My periods will also probably be heavier like they were in my teens, due to the fact that I’ll be fat. I sure was fat as a teenager.

Well, enough of that for now, cuz for all I know, nothing’s ever gonna change or happen. It’s too soon to know anything for sure and you know I’m not gonna be anybody’s fool or sucker. Not God’s, not myself, not nobody’s.

Andy will be back tomorrow. I have no idea what time, though.

Tom got forms for the mortgage extension and I’ve gotta see if Andy will sign it for him as a witness to Tom’s signature.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 20, 1996 Yesterday I got a Little House on the Prairie video. I forgot all about that.

It looks like the spotting is over with. So all in all, I had about 10-15 spots no bigger than a nickel. Some were much smaller. Tom doesn’t know if I could be pregnant and I say I’m definitely not. It still seems logical to me that those spots had to wash anything out that could’ve started growing in there. I think that what happened with us trying to get me pregnant is that my body got confused, the hormones went wacko and it couldn’t take to the egg and sperm, nor could it kick in a period. My guess is that next month, either on time or later, I’ll either have the same old spots or more of a period. Last night I totally felt just like I do a day before my period. I felt some pre-cramps and I was so bloated and my tits were sore. Today I’ve felt the least watery, there have been no cramps and my tits are better. I’m not surprised, cuz my body thinks it’s supposed to be ending its period. About 3-4 days after my period begins, is when it tapers off dramatically. So maybe, just maybe, if God permits and he cums, it’ll take the kid and completely let go of any spots, let alone a period, but who knows? I wish I could know for sure what the hell’s going on and what will go on, but it’s something that we have to wait out.

In just a couple more days, Andy will be back. I expect he’ll want to be on the phone with me for quite a while. That’s OK, even though I’m not into long phone chats anymore, cuz I do want to hear all about his vacation and what he did and who he saw.

What did we have last night? Well, of course, we had a power failure. It didn’t last long, though, thank God. About 20 minutes. I’m sure there’ll be another in a couple of days.

Later…

I just called Larry at his work number and we chatted for a few minutes. Instead of getting me to laugh by telling me it was 40º, he said he was having trouble getting his trucks out of MA and CT due to the snow and ice.

I didn’t know Larry’s business was in CT. I thought it was near their house in MA.

Then Larry said, “Hang on. I’ve got someone here that wants to talk to you.”

Then I heard him say, “Take the phone in there, Jen.”

Oh no, I thought. Don’t put Jenny C on the phone, but it was his daughter, thankfully. So we chatted for a few minutes and she still says she’s working on drawings and a letter for me. I’ll be looking forward to it, I told her.

I’m still a bit ticked off when I think of Mom and Dad and Tammy, but especially Mom and Dad. I think they’ll always complain about me, no matter what I say or do. Nothing’s ever good enough for them. Especially mom, who has no tolerance for anyone who isn’t exactly like her. You have to be a carbon copy of her to get along with her. Or if you’re not a spitting image of her, you better kiss her ass if you want to get along with her.

I asked Tom what he thought about my folks discussing problems they have with me with others. He said maybe they just really needed to talk about it. Yeah, he has a point that I can relate to. I really needed to talk to Kim, Tammy, then Andy about when he wouldn’t cum and when I thought he was bullshitting me about wanting/having a kid.

Sometimes I think to myself, whatever’s been said and done in the past is over with. You know and understand yourself and what you should or shouldn’t say or do either now or in the past, so let it go and just deal with them as they are. Other times I just want to dump the whole family cuz I really don’t need their shit. I’ve been dealing with these people for too long. I wonder if it’s really wise to continue to do so simply cuz we’re related. It’s caused way more harm than good. All I need to deal with is Tom. Not these big-mouthed, lying, exaggerating, negative people who want to pit each other against me and bitch about me constantly.

No, I won’t share my music or art with them anymore, cuz if I can’t share it with those who appreciate it, I’d rather just share it with myself. I try to do stuff for them like a drawing here and there cuz it’s a personally made thing from me to them, but that’s just such a problem with them. Can’t they say to themselves, “Some drawings are nice, some aren’t, but it’s her thoughts and efforts that count.”

Obviously not, therefore I can’t be bothered to deal with people like that. Well, like I told them, they’ll no longer ever hear one word about it.

It burns me up, though, to know that if we did have a kid, I’d want to write to them all about it as it grows, but they wouldn’t want to hear it. What kind of parent does that to their kids by putting such conditions on them, and just what can I write about? What can I tell them about my life or my interests? I may as well go buy blank cards and write: Hi. How are you? Tom and I are fine. The weather’s nice and I hope you both are doing well. Take care and let me know how things are with you. Love, Jodi Lin.

Then send one out every month. It’s like they just want to know that I exist but not what’s going on in my life unless it’s stuff like the weather. It’s like to them, hearing about the same things that make me happy, is just as bad as if I were still getting into trouble.

I’m just tired of them and their ways. I hate people who won’t let others be themselves and I’m tired of them ganging up on me together, making me feel like I’m not good enough, they’ve always got a problem with me and I’m sick of explaining or defending myself to them. I don’t need it. A part of me is sorry I sent that letter telling them how I feel. They don’t want to hear it. All they want is for me to hear how they feel and for me to be what they want me to be. I’m not gonna deal with them at 30 years old and 3000 miles away.

Larry and I both know we’ve done stuff to each other in the past that wasn’t very nice, but as I told him, at least there’s another family member (besides Tom and his family) who’s funny, sane, easygoing, and who doesn’t have a big mouth and judge people by their old ways, mistakes and faults. He’s not intense like Tammy is and you don’t feel all this tension revolving around him and he doesn’t put up a front about a lot of things like Tammy and Mom and Dad do. With Larry and his family, I feel comfortable and I can be myself. He doesn’t get on my ass about the things that interest me, my clothes, etc. Well, when I think of Tammy and Mom and Dad, it’s best to look at their brighter sides. Like how they helped get me out here.

Later…

I just came in from a swim. The pool is still quite nice, and I think the yellow jackets have mellowed out. I haven’t seen one after another for a couple of weeks. I can swim without so much fear now. This is good cuz I thought they wouldn’t go away till mid-September.

I just hope to hell next door stays quiet and doesn’t say, what the fuck, and blast their way in and out. If having power failures every week had to be my compensation for them being quiet, fine.

Later…

Tom picked up a lovely treat for me on his way home from work today. Chinese food. I cooked him pork chops and potatoes.

I just wrote Tom a little love note as after dealing with my family, I can really then see how lucky I am to have someone like him who accepts me as I am.

I wrote: Thanks for loving me so much and letting me be me. For once I am loved and safe from abuse or isolation. It’s like a fairytale/fantasy come true. I always wanted someone like you (I just thought it’d be a woman) to sweep me off my feet and love me so. I also always wanted someone I could love as much as I love you. Yup, we’re one in millions and I believe our love will never die and the flame will never burn out. Maybe God really doesn’t hate me that much. Well, I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you and being a parent with you!

Later…

Kim called today and I had an interesting chat with her, but I’ll write up on it later. For now, I want to play computer games till a movie I want to see comes on.

MONDAY, AUGUST 19, 1996 Boy have I got all kinds of things to write about. I’m gonna try to get the little stuff out of the way first.

We didn’t get the sound blocks or back room done as I didn’t think we would, but that’s OK. We still had a very fun and productive weekend. There also hasn’t been a peep out of next door, which is wonderful. Tom got the patio done and it looks great. He also did lots of yard work and the backyard looks the best it ever has.

Yesterday we went over to Mom’s, but she was still at Mary’s. I did the dishes for her and Tom set up some new memory on her computer.

Later I spoke to Ma at Mary’s to see how she was feeling. She thanked me for helping her out, too.

Andy called collect yesterday from his uncle’s farm 10 minutes away from Tammy’s house. He wanted her number. He didn’t go over, but they chatted for a couple of minutes.

I also finished all 4 of the poster boards and have them hanging up in the music room. They’re all of different flowers.

We got pictures of the birds I took and they amazingly came out. I didn’t think they would. There was one great one of Tom and two shitty ones of me. My body looked OK in the pictures, but my face was terrible. Seeing the birds on my lap and me patting them was really cool and I sent some to my parents and Tammy with letters enclosed. We also got a computer disk of the pictures and they look a bit grainy but are still really cool looking to see the pictures on the computer. We can print some out too, once we get a new color ribbon.

Later…

OK, I just straightened up in here, so now I can get into other things and I think I’ve covered all the smaller things.

Tom told me that he always thought my body would react to us trying to get me pregnant by this period being late, the next one being later, and then no more, as the body gets used to the changes. He said he’d have been a bit discouraged if I’d gotten a typical period last Saturday right on time, as I thought would be the case.

Well, I’ve had a totally different experience, and this is really weird. My last period was super light and easy and this one’s been virtually non-existent. I’ve only had a few light spots that I wiped off. So, I haven’t needed any pads or tampons at all. I know that I can’t be pregnant and that all it takes is a few spots, such as I’ve had, to flush anything growing in there out, but I wonder if anything’s wrong with me. I hope not.

I wore liners yesterday and the day before figuring I’d bleed enough, but today I haven’t had anything on and still don’t need anything yet. Now, you know, that even if I’d had a regular enough period starting two days ago, I’d still have much more than a few small spots and I’d still need pads or tampons. I haven’t had shit for pre-symptoms, cramps and bloating. My tits are a bit sore, but I’ve been holding steady at 100 pounds.

Just as I figured, Mom and Dad did cry to Tammy all about me and all kinds of other things, but here’s the shocking part. Tammy said she never expected or thought for an instant that this day would come. She told me that Ma admitted to being a rotten mother, etc. She says she and Ma had a wonderful talk about all kinds of things from her parents to everything else that went on in the family’s lives. She says ma’s smoking again and that she was crying so hysterically that they couldn’t calm her down. Dad’s eyes were watering too, and that’s only the second time I’ve ever known his eyes to water. I don’t even know if the guy has ever cried at all.

So Tom was right. They really do feel bad about the hospitals and pushing me away and having me drugged up, though it doesn’t change anything. Shockingly, my parents and I agree that yes, I was a bit wild as a kid, but they should’ve been more positive and not pushed me away, yes, I shouldn’t have been drugged, but I don’t fully blame them. Like I told them, they trusted the word of an expert, as far as what to do with me, and it’s not their fault or mine that we were brainwashed. Also, the staff of Brattleboro and Valleyhead did the shit to me they did on their own. Mom and Dad didn’t tell them to. The important thing is that we all recognize where we went wrong and are trying to avoid making the same mistakes in the future.

I guess my parents got the wrong idea in my last letter to them. I wasn’t trying to be mean or hurt them with how I said I needed to be able to be myself, I was just trying to be honest. Also, I wasn’t saying that I was gonna necessarily permanently dump them. I just needed to back off for a while. I asked Tammy if she ever felt I or someone else got on her nerves and she just needed to back off for a while.

“No, I don’t do that, never did, never thought about it, never wanted to,” is what she said.

Oh. I didn’t know she loved me that much and we’re quite different as people. I thought I was someone she could basically take or leave.

Mom and Dad’s basic problem with me is that they don’t want to hear so much about kids, singing, hair, or weight. She says they said they want to know if there’s a problem, and that if I have a kid, that’s wonderful, they’re happy that singing and other things make me happy, but I guess this is the area that I disagree with my family on. How are words harming anyone, unless they’re abusive? I know most people aren’t like me and Tom who couldn’t care less what people say and how often they say it, but wouldn’t they rather hear the same happy things 100 times a day, rather than a bad thing once? This is the part I don’t get. If they’re happy that something makes me happy, then where’s the problem? They say they want to hear about what’s going on in my life. Well, if I can’t tell them that, what can I tell them? I try to ask them questions about their lives, but if I don’t get any answers, I can’t help that. I’ve never stopped them from talking to me as they seem to feel.

They say that they went to Tammy about our problems cuz they didn’t think they could talk to me. That’s no excuse to drag her into it. She has enough problems of her own and I always believed that if you have a problem with someone, you should go to the source, not someone else.

I know I have a problem with interrupting them a lot, but it’s only cuz I may want to respond to something they’ve said before I forget. I am a very perceptive person, but sometimes it’s hard for me to stay focused in a conversation and it’s easier for me to break up a conversation into chunks. You know how ADD works. I feel like they not only interrupt me, too, left and right but that I can’t even say my piece if they don’t want to hear it and I don’t think that’s very fair.

Tom gave me some advice that I think is very good. I asked him how he thought I could go about associating with them without feeling like I have to be self-conscious and not be able to be myself and talk about things that interest me as well, without hurting or annoying them. He said that while it wouldn’t hurt to not be so repetitious, he also feels that if I write something to them that is boring or whatever they have the perfect right to not read it. Well, I know I’ve always been repetitious and that’s my nature, but I’ll try not to be as repetitious with them from now on. I’ll try to keep my letters as brief and as impersonal as I can, but I need to be accepted as me, too.

I’ll probably be obsessed with my weight and hair forever to a degree. As for the singing obsession, well, that ended about 6 years ago when I realized that I didn’t want to deal with the lifestyle that goes with that, I’m not a people person and I don’t like liars and false promises. The kid obsession, I think I outgrew that about a month or two before he started cumming. I wish we never went through that weird sex life we had and that I could’ve always dealt with my beliefs concerning a kid, but we got through it together, Tom and I.

This is one of the many reasons I love Tom so much. OK, I know I get on his nerves here and there, I’m not perfect, but for the most part, I can be myself and say whatever I need to and as often as I need to. We know I’d rather talk a lot or a little about a problem and deal with it, rather than keep it bottled up and go do something stupid.

As I told my folks, I know no parents are perfect, I’m not perfect and we’ve all done things in the past that we regret. I’m glad my mother has realized her mistakes and that she didn’t have to be just like her mother was. I hope she’ll be more positive towards others and easier to talk to and will talk more. Maybe if I send pictures, for example, she won’t just say that she got them. I hope she’d say something, even if it was to tell me she hated them. Also, maybe she’ll expand on the yes or no answers she gives me when I ask about her and Dad’s life.

Meanwhile, I’ll try to cut down the reps and not tell any more stupid lies like we need money for an abortion. I should’ve just told her flat out we were broke and needed money. Not made up a stupid lie. Tammy did say that she said I apologized for that lie and that I do tell them how much I appreciate them getting me out here. Oh yeah, I know when they’ve helped me and I’m grateful for that.

Hopefully, we’ll find a way to get along while we can all feel that we can still be ourselves and be accepted for who and what we are. I think I’ve got a damn good handle on what my faults and flaws are and am trying to better myself and not repeat any old mistakes I’ve made with myself or with anyone else. For the most part, I’m still happy with who and what I am and my husband and I are what counts the most. I can only go so far to please others, but my husband and I are a different story. I just hope that my family will not judge other family members so much by their past ways and that they won’t exaggerate or twist things people say or do as much. I always felt, and still do, that my sister and parents have a little obsession of their own and that’s that they seem to really want to hang onto that image of me being immature, a liar, and just a nutty wacky bitch. I don’t think they realize that I’ve mellowed out quite a bit over the years and that I’m really not that bad to know and live with. I may be unique in several ways, but at the same time I’m really just your average person and I can’t help what they don’t know or understand about me. Or don’t want to know or understand about me and I told them this. I also told them, that in the end, it’s up to them to believe and feel whatever it is they wish to and that I don’t think I should defend, explain or express myself too much if I can help it. I don’t think that’s something I should put myself through, I don’t owe them that and they don’t owe me anything either. Just basic respect is all.

Tammy admits we do joke about my split ends and stuff like that and that’s OK. Yeah, I told her God saved her from that catfish to hear about my split ends, although on the serious side, I’m sorry she went through such a scary ordeal.

Tammy mentioned seeing Marty and Ruth and that she wanted to know if I had their address to send them a thank you card for clothes they got the kids while they were there. Now I knew better. I didn’t mention it cuz I didn’t feel like getting into it and it’s my business, but I know she really wanted to see if I’d bring up my letter to them and I know she knows about it. If they gave the kids clothes while she was there, she could’ve thanked them in person.

Tom straightened up the back room quite a bit.

Evelyn gave me some more paper that I’m using for drafts.

I guess that covers everything for now. I’ll write more later and add anything I may have forgotten.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 17, 1996 I don’t feel too cool today. Instead of the cramps I expected to wake up with, I’ve got or recently had nausea, rapid heartbeat, gas (but am not constipated) and am a bit sluggish. I dunked myself in the pool and ate, so I’ll be feeling better soon.

Tom’s at Evelyn’s now and should be home in a few hours.

Later…

I spoke to Bill a couple of hours ago and they had a wonderful time, but he says the last few days were shitty. It rained like hell for the last 3 days, Bill doesn’t feel well, Lisa got bit by ants and Tammy got very sick by eating catfish. She was at the doctor’s when I called.

I called back and a little while ago and she said there’s no date set yet for surgery for her thyroid, but she’s busy unpacking, does need to talk to me, so call back at 6:30 their time.

Let me guess, it’s gonna be all about Mom and Dad. Well, I’m just gonna tell her they shouldn’t have dumped any problems they have with me on her, she shouldn’t get involved in our problems, cuz she’s got enough of her own and I just want to hear about their trip in general.

I asked Bill if ma drove them crazy. Naturally, she did. Bill says overall she was good, he knows her way is her way, but she was quite a nag to them all. He says he certainly wasn’t crazy about staying there and told her that.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 16, 1996 I can’t believe Tammy never called from Mom and Dad’s. Too bad they never sent us postcards. I can only imagine just how much Mom and Dad cried on Tammy’s shoulder all about how horrible I am.

Tom installed a really neat package of software yesterday. It has several schemes for appearance. In the control panel’s settings is where you change all your fonts and colors for different functions. There’s this 60s theme with a tie-dye wallpaper and a really cool screensaver built into it that swirls around whatever’s on the screen. Its main colors are a soft lilac purple with bright green highlighting.

So, I reset my colors, fonts, and sounds, but I’ll need Tom’s help to reset my icons.

Tom says that next door has been there and that his regular car, which has been a Jeep lately, has been there. The weekend will really show if there’ll be any change at all in their music volume.

When I went out to clip my mail up, a girl I’ve seen before was by the side of the house. She may be babysitting. Anyway, I said, “Hi” and she said, “Hi, how are you?” I said, “Good,” then came back in.

Also, I was wrong when I said Tom said I’d know the secret in a month. He really meant within a month. He better make all this waiting worth it. It better not turn out to be something stupid or that there never was a secret.

Later…

Shortly after Tom came home, we went to his mom’s house. No one was there. She’s still staying with Mary after having her hand operated on. Ma’s been feeling OK, but she hates wearing a cast. Who doesn’t? I should remember. And I wasn’t free to move my arm from the shoulder as there was no way I could. My arm was strapped to my body.

Tom spoke to her over the phone and he said he could hear a note of disappointment in her voice that she missed seeing me. I always enjoy seeing her. We were over there for about 3 hours, so if next door came booming in, we’ll never know. He edged and mowed the backyard and I vacuumed.

He says that yes, she did receive a card from my folks.

On the way back home, we stopped at a drive-through for KFC. The drive-through at the place he likes was mobbed, so we came home, ate, and went for a swim.

We screwed after swimming. Neither of us came during the fucking part, but I did once he ate me out.

I was surprised at what he said afterward, cuz it’s something he always said not to worry about and not to tell him back when he never came. He said, “I’m disappointed you didn’t cum while we were screwing. I think if you had cum, I’d have cum.”

Well, I think he’ll cum during the weekend, but I think it was just too late in the day for him. He’d gotten up early and had a long hard day of work. He’ll be at Evelyn’s (of course, as he now works 6 days a week), from about 7:30 AM - 2:30 PM, but I’ll be asleep during more of that. Hopefully, he’ll still have some life left in him after she gets through with him, though.

He says he plans on getting the sound blocks, the back room and patio done during the weekend. All in almost half a weekend? This I gotta see.

I also got all caught up on my sleep and slept the best I have all week, just like Tom said I would. In fact, I slept on and off for 14 hours.

I reminded him that we should screw more often and that once or twice during ovulation times wasn’t gonna do it, if he’s right about my being fertile. I understand and know, though, that a lot’s been going on. If things ever settle down and stay that way for a while, we’ll just have to wait and see how motivated he is and how important it is to him.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 15, 1996 Boy have we been cursed! God still isn’t done having a field day with me, that’s for sure. As I was going to bed yesterday at around 4 or 5 PM, the box fan that I sleep with in the bedroom burned out. So, Tom rescued me by buying another. All seemed fine then, and then I conked out only to wake up almost two hours later to this incredible banging. Naturally, I thought it was next door and told myself, well, here’s where Tom’s right about it getting worse, so just get used to it, cuz there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it. I couldn’t sleep through it, though, so I got up and found out it wasn’t them at all. We had a killer monsoon storm and Tom thought it was a tornado at first. It tossed another piece of the roof rafter into the pool, threw the garbage can over, ripped one of my flags off, and tossed around some equipment that he had at the side of the house.

Of course, it had to knock the power out for 3½ hours, too. During the power failure, I thought for sure they’d come flying out to jump into their van to get some AC and use this occasion as an excuse to pummel the bass right through these walls, but luckily for them, they never did, cuz I swear I’d have taken a hammer to them and their damn van. In fact, we haven’t heard a peep out of them for nearly 4 days now. This is too good to be true. What’s the catch? Well, I don’t think it’s a case of our request finally sinking through his young, ripe, thick skull, I think it’s a case of them not being home. They had to have taken off somewhere, cuz these aren’t the kinds of people that take others into consideration.

From about 11 PM to just after 4 AM, I slept but then woke up cuz I was wheezing. After I settled that down really quick and with his help, I tried going back to bed for a couple more hours, but couldn’t, so I’m a bit tired today. Nothing too bad, though.

I’m sitting here with my cat mug which I really love so much. I can’t wait for Andy to see my new cat/doggie mugs, journals, and stereo.

Tom says that I’ll know the secret in a month. Mid-September, he says. He said it’s really not that big of a deal and that I might be let down, but still happy enough about it. He says he thinks I’d be even happier about it if I knew what it was right away, but that due to my making a big deal out of it, it won’t seem as nice. Me? Make a big deal out of it? I think it was he who did that since he had to keep it a secret. Besides, if it’s not that big a deal, then why has he been so secretive about it? He swears it’s not a trip, we’re not moving and it’s got nothing to do with anyone else but us. He says it won’t be as exciting as it’d be if I found out I was pregnant. I’m sure it’s some stupid piddly-ass thing. It’s just this waiting game he likes to play to try to instill patience in me.

Well, rather than sit around and worry about what’s gonna wake me up in the next day or two, and when the next power failure will be, I think I will go try to nap out for a while.

Later…

This new lotion by Jergen that Tom got me is a miracle and a half. Most lotions are worthless, but this stuff’s great. After going swimming for a good half-hour, my skin still feels so soft and like I just lotioned up. It’s a real necessity in this dry climate, even though it hasn’t been too dry out here lately.

I hope Charlotte and Jim are at the beach. Andy sounded like he wasn’t too sure if they were there or not. He said one of their sons came over. I wonder if Andy will hear about the letter I sent to Char and Jim?

I think I figured out a couple of things about my parents. Well, you know how they were so worried when I knew Ron that if I had a kid, it’d come out as fucked up as I was physically and mentally? My parents and Charlotte and Jim have been great friends for eons, so if Jim and his son really have mental problems, as I’ve heard, maybe my folks have been looking at that as an example. Maybe they think that their son is screwed up cuz of Jim and assume that that’d be the case with me if I had had a kid. Also, according to my mother, she was guilty about the DES and ear of mine till I hit my teens. Tom and I were able to find out that the DES has nothing to do with my ear. He thinks that my ear’s due to ma smoking while she was pregnant with me. I disagree, or else Tammy and Larry would be fucked up, too, and I still think that’s all hype and just another way to get people to stop doing something that’s unhealthy. Well, if we could find out that my ear wasn’t related to the DES, didn’t ma know? Maybe Ma was just guilty about the ear and not the DES. If she was guilty about the DES, cuz of its higher cancer-causing risks and sterility risks, then maybe the reason why she stopped being guilty about the sterility part when I was in my teens, wasn’t just cuz she realized it wasn’t her fault, but also cuz by my teens, was supposedly when they were starting to see what a loser they thought I’d be forever, and therefore should never have kids, anyway.

If Tom’s little secret isn’t just a nothing thing, then maybe it is a trip or something else he said it wasn’t just to throw me off. He said it had nothing to do with sex, but maybe he will come out and tell me he did hold off on cumming till now. Who knows?

I put the monkey bar up just outside the back-room windows, hanging from the rafter beams, but so far, those dumb birds have ignored it.

I guess these journals of mine have gotten quite boring lately. Well, if Tom’s so sure that they’ll be read someday, either by him or this kid we’re supposed to have, then maybe I should write some pretty strange and wacky stuff, just to give that person their entertainment’s worth. That’s OK. There are quite enough events of all different kinds documented throughout all my journals.

Later…

I’m still really nervous about next door. Their quietness is still not right. It just doesn’t go with them. That bass is bound to be back and banging for sure. I’d say yes, they’re definitely on a trip or something.

At least the new fan sounds just about the same as the old one which Tom said was about 11 years old.

I’ll tell you one thing for sure, and that’s that I’d take those screaming M kids back anytime over such vibrating bass. The kids can be ear-piercing and obnoxious and give you headaches, but only if you’re in the midst of it. In the house, with the fans going and the sound blocks up, it’s fine, and they certainly can’t wake me up over the fan. It isn’t just them next door that I worry about, it’s their friends. When are they gonna come banging that bass in here and how often? How many parties and ball games will there be when this weather gets more bearable?

I wish I could say that their waking me up and the two power failures were compensation for something good to come, but I still feel like they were a curse and a possible punishment for Marty’s letter and card. I also sure as hell hope that they weren’t warnings of something worse to come, either. That’s all I’d need. That’s all either of us would need. We’ve had enough.

I’m trying to remember if I just sent Kim a letter, or if it’s time to send her one. I guess I will, and I’ll go get working on more of Larry’s envelopes as well as the two poster boards that are left.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 14, 1996 I just decorated the front cover with some address label demos I cut out of a catalog.

Amazingly, neither Tom nor myself heard a peep out of next door yesterday.

Also amazingly, I have no water build-up, pre-cramps, or sore tits yet and I’m only 3 days away from my period.

I’ve been running around saying that I know we’re gonna have a kid, even though I know better. It’s just that the more positive I sound and the less I complain, the happier he is.

It still seems like he has an aw-let-‘em-do-what-they-want attitude about next door when I bitch about them.

Also, I hesitate still, to talk to him when I’m feeling sad or angry or frustrated, cuz then we usually end up feeling worse. Both of us do and I don’t want to send someone I love into a bad mood. Nor do I want a foul mood of mine to go from bad to worse.

I think I forgot to mention calling Andy at the beach on the 11th. He was there with Adam and says he was having a wonderful time. Surprisingly, he hadn’t heard about the power failure which I know had to be all over the news everywhere. AOL crashed about a week ago. Their whole network crashed worldwide. At that time, I had left Tammy 2 or 3 messages for when she returns from Florida, but who knows if she’ll ever get them? They’re back online, though, and all seems back in order.

Later…

Last night something on the AC broke, so he turned to the EC. This happened after I went to bed, so I was wondering why it was quite humid in here when I got up. Thank God for him, though, otherwise it’d be unbearable in here and it’d cost $150 or more to fix it if it weren’t his brains. His brains may steal our time, but at least they save us money.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 13, 1996 Well, I absolutely don’t believe it. I didn’t hear them at all yesterday, but I’m still not gonna get my hopes up that it’ll stay this way. Tom says it’s 50/50 now in his opinion as to if they’ll stay quiet.

I got the whole house cleaned yesterday and today I did Larry’s envelope which will really be Jenny’s, of course.

Evie’s pregnant again and Ma’s having her hand operated on. I think they’re gonna do one hand at a time to relieve the pain of carpal tunnel syndrome so she can use her hands more.

Later…

On Sunday we went to the memorial service held at a small church. It was a quick 20-minute thing and then we went to a building adjacent to the church for refreshments.

People were shocked to see that Cindy, who doesn’t talk to anyone, come up to me and start chatting away. She usually just says hi, then walks away and she usually talks in such an official kind of voice, but this time she asked questions and kept the conversation going and she sounded much less official.

Today I’m gonna have more of a relaxing kind of day. I’m gonna do some artwork, read, sing, watch TV and write and make his dinner for later. I just hope to hell that worrying about next door will be a thing of the past, although I know that’s just wishful thinking. So far, though, after the blast-off during the power failure, all’s been OK. We’ll have to see how the next week or two goes to get a better idea of how things will be. Right now, I’m still counting on hearing it at least twice a day - more on weekends - and not being woken up here and there would be a surprise and a half to me. In fact, I still can’t believe they’ve only woken me up once or twice in the 5 months that they’ve been there. Anyway, I feel better than I have in the last 3 days and I hope it lasts. I hope the weekend is peaceful too, as I’ll be on the rag during the weekend.

Well, I think I’ve remembered to cover all that’s been going on over the last few days.

Oh, one more thing. Tom thinks that the reason why the stereo went off was cuz I accidentally hit the timer when I was resetting the clock after the power failure.

MONDAY, AUGUST 12, 1996 You’re not gonna believe this, but Social Security sent me a bill for $32 in my maiden name. I can’t believe they’d try to sucker money from me that we all know I don’t owe after being off it for two years. Tom says he’s gonna call them and see what the hell kind of stunt they’re trying to pull, but let me guess - since I’m not on it for them to harass me once or twice a year, they’re gonna harass me for bullshit money every two years now that I’m off it?

Right now I am a bundle of nerves. My thoughts are racing and my heart is pounding. This weekend was another shitty and good weekend, but things are gonna get steadily worse around here which I’ll get into after.

Saturday morning we went to Walmart and PetSmart. I got a blue floral 1-piece bathing suit which I’m not too thrilled about, but I’ll get used to it. Tom says he loves it, though, and that I look like a sexy woman in it.

I also got an electric pencil sharpener and 5 really cute and colorful journals that were just over $3 each. They’re a little smaller than most of my journals, but some of my journals are of very different sizes, anyway.

I also got 2 cat mugs and I love them. They’re so cute and they have so many cute cat mugs, so for now, I’ll lay off the doggie mug collection and collect kitty mugs. One has 3 little kittens outdoors and sitting in a basket. I love the detail of it as it has a nice blue sky, trees, grass, etc. I also have a close-up shot of a cat sticking its tongue out.

So on Saturday, I was beat and ready for bed at around 2 PM. Did next door wake me up? No, but they will. Instead, it was a power failure that hit 15 states all the way from Texas to Oregon. It woke me up cuz the sounds weren’t normal. The fan was off and I was hearing cars and trucks. It got quite hot in here and the power was off for about 5 hours. I had been beat, thanks to next door, so God picked a hell of timing to curse the western US! It had gotten so hot in here that I was out in the pool when the power came back on and you could hear people cheering. Why couldn’t this have happened in the winter and when I wasn’t backed up in my sleep?

I should’ve listened to Tom. Things are gonna get worse next door cuz everyone’s so determined to do the opposite of what they’re asked, no matter how nicely you ask them. They just had to jump in their van to use the AC and blast their fucking music intermittently for a good 20 minutes. The bass was deafening and nerve-wracking. It literally was like people were pounding frantically on the doors, walls, ceilings, windows, etc.

That I know of, they haven’t been too bad since, but I know now and am 100% sure that they’ll be waking me up regularly unless I’m asleep between 10 PM and 8 AM and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. They’ve won. They’ve got me. There’s just not a damn thing I can do about it legally or not. Tom won’t let me beat the shit out of them and like he said, they’ll just fuck with the house or something and I’ll land in jail if I beat them. Hell, they might even shoot us. These people are cold, sick assholes.

Then it hit me. I did pray to God during the 2½ years of our wacky sex life to give me a new ongoing issue for a change to have to deal with. Well, he did and this is it. This isn’t new, though. I’ve been woken up by neighbors for years now. I wish he’d think of something else. Anything but me being woken up.

I went over to the pig’s house across the street as a last resort, but no one was home. Was no one home cuz God knew they’d simmer down or was no one home cuz God knew he could and would help me and he didn’t want me helped? What is God trying to tell me? What does he want from me and why does he hate me so much?

I can’t believe that I live in a house and sleep with a loud box fan on, but am still woken up by other people’s noise! What the fuck?! Why?! Why?! Why?! What the fuck did I do? Is it cuz of my letter and postcard to Marty? What is it?! I haven’t caused any trouble. I haven’t made any prank calls, I haven’t done a damn thing to these assholes next door, so what is it? If there is a message in this, can’t God make it more obvious as to what it is since I’m obviously too stupid to figure it out for myself? I think I know, though. I still think it’s part of his general rule for me that I hear other people’s noise. Since I’m not in apartments and he can’t bring people to my ceiling, walls or whatever, he uses the bass which is just like pounding feet above me or on walls. This is sick! Ridiculous! I’ve had it! I’ve had enough! Can’t God just leave me the fuck alone? I can’t sleep at night every night, cuz God won’t let me no matter how hard I try, so now I’m gonna have to sleep in the back room when I’m up at night, huh? Is that what God wants? Does he want to drive me crazy all over again and send me back in time? Back to the NHA? Well, he’s doing a good job of it. Sure, it could be worse, it could be more frequent, but this is bad enough and I want it stopped! I can’t pray to God to help me cuz he not only refuses to listen or help me, but he goes and makes things worse. I find it quite a coincidence that they woke me up after I’d been praying a lot for him to simmer next door’s music down. The more I pray, the more trouble comes my way. Well, he doesn’t have to worry cuz I’ll never pray to him again and I’ll never ask anyone to pray for something for me. We don’t have a God in our lives. We have a Satan that people call God. At least that’s what I believe is my case.

This can’t be compensation for anything good to come, so what is it? A lifelong compensation for being able to sing? For being able to draw? For how I look? What is it and why? Am I truly punished for my ancestor’s sins?

Tom said they came and went twice yesterday quietly and that I can’t assume I know what the future holds, but I do know and even Tom said he was 99% sure things would get a lot worse. I’m not stupid. What was stupid of me was my prayers to God and my sending Tom over there. It’s not gonna be better, it’s not gonna be the same, it’s gonna be worse.

Later…

I’m gonna need to crash in a couple of hours or so and I’m so scared to. I know I’ll have to get up when next door says so. As soon as they come home, they’re gonna pump up that bass, and awake I’ll be. I can’t believe I’m in this predicament. I’m in a house, but my neighbors won’t let me sleep. What am I gonna do? Those stupid no-good fucks! How I want to pray to God. To call out to Robin. I know it’s no use, though. Between 3:30 and 8:30 I’ll have to get up. Then I’ll have to pretend to Tom that it’s no big deal, but I’ll get into that later. I’m just too tired now and have other things I need to get done. Maybe I’ll write some more after I’ve had the 2-4 hours of sleep God and next door will allow me today.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 10, 1996 Minnie left me a message yesterday saying that she hadn’t had time to write, so she thought she’d call instead.

I also finally got a hold of Kim, but I woke the poor girl up. I said that God would get me back and he did, all right, in an overkill kind of way 4 hours after I’d knocked off. It was also when next door went over the line as God used them to wake me up.

A half-hour later, Tom came home and I begged him to go over there and told him that I’d had it and I wasn’t gonna go through this again with getting up when neighbors said so. So, a few minutes later, the music started up again and he went over and told him that the bass goes right through the walls and the guy said something about working on the car. Then Tom asked that he turn it down when he comes in and out and Tom said he said, “Sure. No problem.” We’ll see, though. I hope Tom’s never been more wrong when he says he thinks things will get worse now. Of course, I’m hoping for the best, which I’m stupid to do with God’s obvious you-will-listen-to-other-people’s-noise rule, but I think they’re gonna be like the people that moved in next to me on Bell Road in the back of the complex. I’d tell them over and over again to turn their stereo down and they said they would, but never did. They didn’t get worse, but they didn’t get better and more than likely, that’s gonna be the case with next door.

Tom says he’s just a kid who can’t be over 22, and the trouble is that due to the fact that they rent, they have nothing to lose. Meaning that if I go over there with a blown fuse, they could vandalize the house, for example, with nothing to lose or fear. This rude, spoiled, and selfish little child couldn’t care less. How does the kid take naps?

If they shut up, I’ll bet that shortly after, they’ll move. That’s what happened with the M's. It seems that once I get a neighbor to shut up, they move and I’ve got to go through the same old shit all over again with new neighbors. If they do shut up and across the street is my swap-off from God, fine. I was able to go back to sleep from about 5 PM - 10 PM and Tom said that there was a party at the old music people’s house. No music, but lots of little kids. Well, fine. That’s not gonna shake the house and vibrate me awake and when the sound blocks are up, they’ll be muffled out to barely a sound.

For the millionth time, why does God hate me so much? What did I do to deserve this? I’ve paid my dues for all the people I woke up during my prank phone call days, so what’s the scoop? What does this mean? What does he want from me? Am I being cursed? Am I in for a whole new round of punishment or is this compensation for something good to come?

I hope my horoscope is right in a good kind of way when it said that change was coming and that I must be prepared to add new responsibilities to old ones.

Tom said that he didn’t hear anything after he talked to the guy and after I went back to bed, but that’s only cuz he never went back out or in. Tomorrow, now today, will be the real test. Even if I can hear it a little bit, that’d be fine. It’s when it rocks the house down that I’ve got a bone to pick.

Does it make me want a child less? A little, but lately I haven’t been wanting that as bad, anyhow. It seems that from about the time Tom started cumming, I’ve been less desperate for that. I’d still take it if it came, but I don’t think I’ll want to see a doctor once it’s proven to Tom that I’m sterile. Also, I’m not gonna bother worrying about how the hell I’ll sleep with a kid around, learn to take care of it properly or have to not smoke during pregnancy when I don’t have to worry about pregnancy in the first place. That’d be a stupid and useless waste of time going and worrying over shit that won’t happen and that I’ll never have to face and deal with. Believe me, I know. I’ve been there before.

You better damn well believe, though, that my trust in Robin isn’t less, but is completely gone. She told me they’d never wake me up. Yeah, right! If she, or whoever the hell this thing is, tries visiting me, go away, is all they’re gonna hear from me.

If I didn’t wake Kim up or pray to God for them to simmer down, I’ll bet this wouldn’t have happened. Who knows, though, since God just loves to stick neighbors on me, like I said for the last 5 years or so.

We haven’t been able to find the bird I pulled out of the pool, so hopefully that means it survived and flew away and isn’t dead in the bushes or something.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 9, 1996 Got up today at 7:30 PM and went out back to check out how stormy it was. It was very cloudy and windy. Then, I heard a noise splashing in the Jacuzzi and saw a dark movement out of the corner of my eye. One of my birds was hurt and drowning so I got him out with the net. Who knows how badly he’s hurt? He may either die or dry up and be able to fly away as good as new, but we’ll see tomorrow. I threw some seeds down and Tom went and got a little margarine bucket to put water in. I figured maybe a cat attacked it, but Tom guesses that it got hit by a car, then went to get a drink in the pool and fell in.

I asked Tom to please pray to God that it’ll be OK since God won’t listen to me. He said he would and he also told me that he does pray for a child. Really? I thought he told me he thought it was best to pray for something you need, not something you want. So God’s been ignoring him, too, huh? Well, like me, Tom’s a pretty good person. It may not be humbling of me to say this, but I wish more people in this world were like me and I certainly wish more people in this world were like Tom. I told Tom that when his dad first became ill, I prayed to God to make him better, but that didn’t work. Tom said that that was meant to be and already set into motion. So are my DES and sterility.

I told Tom that at least I know the reasons why I’m sterile, but he disagreed and said that there’s so much more to life and its reasoning than anyone could ever realize. True. I’m sure there are other reasons for my sterility that only God knows.

I saw some show on TV this morning where they were discussing God and one guy asked a question I’ve asked a thousand times. In a case of two innocent people being murdered and the person that did it going free, how can God do that? The host of this show said that God allows Satan some power for now and that for now, we’re allowed to do good or evil. Then, eventually God’s gonna put his foot down and say, “OK, you’ve set the rules so far, now I’m gonna lay down what rules I think people should live by and make the world how I want it.” Now I doubt that very much, otherwise he’d have done so all along. The host said that if God killed all murderers, people would look at him in fear and think of him as bad and not for love. Not me. I’d love him even more if he’d set people straight and wipe out violent people.

Then the guy said that people kill and do bad things, not God. Yes, this is true, but I still think God has a helping hand in a lot of it and I disagree with when he said we choose everything that pertains to us. I didn’t choose to be sterile. I didn’t choose for my parents to treat me the way they did as a child. I think people give God way, way more credit than he deserves and I think that people fail to realize that God’s evil, as well as good. Perhaps that’s cuz they don’t want to believe God’s got evil in him. I wonder, though. If people can believe in a God in which there’s no concrete proof of his existence, then why are people so afraid to believe in ghosts? In a way, they’re the same things; spirits.

I told Tom that Andy wants to read my journals really bad and he said to do what I want, but that there are a lot of nasty and untrue things about him written in there. True, and I’ve taken back all the shit I’ve said about him that he proved to me was wrong. I asked him why it’d be OK for a kid of ours, if we had one, to read them then. He said cuz the kid’s family. He also doesn’t know that Andy knows about our sex lives in full now. I’d rather Tom not know, if I can help it, cuz he’d be quite embarrassed I’m sure. Only I can know that he doesn’t have to and shouldn’t feel embarrassed, just like I shouldn’t have for the two years I kept the secret from Andy. Also, I know Tom couldn’t help it if he felt embarrassed or whatever else he may feel. So the only way he could know that Andy knows is if he bugged the phones or read my computer version journals.

I think I’m gonna tell Andy that I told Tom how interested he is in reading them, but that Tom would be very embarrassed about it and so would I. That means with him, a kid, or anyone else I know and really care about who could read them. Some stranger or person I didn’t care that much about, would be a different story. There are only 3 people that I’d let read them and that’s Nervous (if he were alive) and Fran and Bob. Not cuz they’re strangers and not cuz I never cared about them at all, naturally, but cuz they’re different. Nervous, if I’m remembering correctly, did read the first 6-9 journals back in Springfield. Anyway, if I ever did let Andy read them, we’d not tell Tom about it cuz it’d be best that way. What Tom didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him and as Tom said, no one tells their lover/spouse every single thing every single minute of the day.

I guess that fuckface next door does have a degree of respect and consideration after all. I heard him leave at 8:15 this morning without a sound. Not one note of music. We haven’t heard them at all today, but I’m sure he came blasting in before I got up and before Tom got home which was around the same time.

I spoke to Andy right before he left. He’s been flying 45 minutes now and will be in CT at 6:30 AM here which will be 9:30 AM there.

Later…

Tom brought home some white poster boards today. There are 5 pieces that are about 14” x 11”. I did one up with a floral design that I’m quite pleased with. I’ll probably do large lilies, large carnations, Snoopy at the beach with a palm tree behind him, and then that floral frame design. I’m not gonna have so many frames, though. I’ll have about 9 instead of 14-16 and the vases of flowers will be bigger.

Well, I think I’m gonna go do the second out of the 5 poster boards which will be floral frames.

Later…

Well, I just got part of the frames done, but now I have to wait till it dries up so I don’t smudge anything. That may take a while, too, as this poster board has a slick surface that doesn’t soak the marker up as easily. Especially water-based markers. I hope the cooler doesn’t make it run once we have that on again.

Next time around, I’d like to get a poster board that’s even bigger than this. I’d love to do some for my family and for Kim (Bob couldn’t have this and he’s not worth the time and effort), but how the hell would I mail it there? To fold them up would put horrible-looking creases in them. I could do one for Andy since he lives here.

It’s just so much fun to do, though, and watch my different creations slowly come to life. I still have to do Larry’s envelopes up, too. I think it may be dry enough now that I can finish putting the rest of the frames on.

Later…

I’m working on my outlining of the different vases and flowers, but I’m pissed cuz some parts of the frame smudged. I may color in the backgrounds of the frames when I’m done, but that would be awfully hard to do having to fill around so much detail. I have a very steady hand, which is necessary to be an artist, but that steady? I don’t know. I’d be afraid of running into the designs.

Tammy got to Mom and Dad’s yesterday. I wonder what kind of time she’s been having. No postcards yet. I’m surprised she hasn’t called from there, but we’ll see. I still wouldn’t be shocked if she did. Then I’ll bet mom or dad will jump on the phone figuring I won’t bother to hang up on them cuz I’d want to talk to Tammy.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 8, 1996 I just talked to Andy again for the second time tonight. He really didn’t have anything new to tell me, but I’ll talk to him one last time tomorrow before he leaves. Then, I’ll call him once during the 11th and 14th at the beach.

I forgot to mention something else he told me last night. He said he had a very vague and fragmented memory of something at the beach. As most of us know, I was a little terror back then, terrorizing other girls and boys for no reason at all. Well, there was this family at the beach, the T's. They had 5 kids and the 2 youngest girls were twins. Andy said he has a fragmented memory of Mrs. T and my mother in conflict about me bothering the twins and that my mother defended me.

That part of it can’t be right. Yes, lots of people went to my mom due to problems they had with me, but my mother would never defend me on something I didn’t do, let alone something I really did do.

Shit! I started to smoke cigarettes without punching the pack first. I’ve got to get on Tom about punching them sooner and not leaving it to me since my hands are the weakest part of me.

Andy says he really wants to read my journals. I told him, though, that if I ever let him read them, he’d have to read the typed versions and most of the print is small, otherwise it’d take thousands of pages to print it all out. I’ve only got up to 100 printed out, though. Some of the print is light, too, as we couldn’t always just afford to go buy ribbons the second they died. On a scale of 1-10, a 10 is how bad he wants to read them. He said he’s tired of reading other people’s books and wants to read mine. He said it’s my decision, of course, but that I’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, but I am cuz I was so stupid and naïve and such a shitty writer.

He said that nothing I wrote could be as embarrassing as my seeing him beating off at the beginning of his videotape for a few seconds. He once rented a camcorder for several purposes. Along the way, he decided to tape himself jerking off to see what he looked like (Why? Who the hell knows?). And as a tape stretches out, you can’t record over the first few seconds. He gave me some tapes to record his soaps a couple of years ago when he either went away or when his VCR or TV fucked up. Well, it didn’t bother me. I mean, I saw it, I know sexuality is human nature and that’s it.

Anyway, Andy said if I thought my journals were that stupid, I’d have thrown them away, but no I wouldn’t. I never thought a single soul would ever read them. I’ll have to think about it, though. To be honest, I’ve got so many thousands and thousands of pages I’ve written in the last 9 years, that it’s hard for me to remember a lot of it. Not the little stuff, anyway.

I’m still really, really nervous about this weekend, though. I know I’ll be sleeping through a lot of it, but what are they gonna do? Just what kind of shit are they gonna pull? Fuck Robin, should she come tell me they’ll be fine. Then again, she’s told me that several times and been right and has only been wrong twice out of the several times she’s told me not to worry.

Later…

I typed Larry up a letter and have gone through the envelopes I drew up for Tom for his birthday and picked out ones I want to do for letters I send Larry. Jenny gets the envelopes, as I’ve said before. I hope Jenny’s serious about sending me a letter and some drawings.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 7, 1996 Tom reminded me that I’ve got $60 and not $50, cuz $10 of it was from vacuuming Ma’s place. I might not spend all of it and get him a little treat of some kind. Especially what with how much I appreciate his putting the sound blocks on, which cost $50 that next door should pay. It’s not really just next door, though, cuz who knows what other street noise will go on around here and if they move before we do, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they did, who knows what’s coming in there next.

I really love the faster computer. The capping system just breezes through and most things are just so much faster.

Anyway, Andy and I chatted about all kinds of things. He said there’s some repulsive coke whore in his neighborhood and that he’s hurt over Quinn and more hurt that Quinn couldn’t care less that Andy told him he didn’t want a thing to do with him for at least 6 months. I told Andy he doesn’t need this abusive loser, but due to Andy’s love for him, it hurts and I guess I can understand that. Tom and I still love each other, even when we say things to each other that aren’t too nice.

He also told me a couple of things that neither of us knew that go back to between 1972 and 1974. When Tammy was about 16, she used to flirt like hell around Marla’s first husband. That I can believe. Tammy was never a slut, but she always did go for older men.

Also, Charlotte has 3 kids, Shelly, Steve and Scott. Well, he’s heard that Steve, who’s always had mental problems, is now a bum on the streets of Connecticut. I didn’t know that or that he had problems, but back in those times I was not very perceptive or aware of shit going on around me. I had too many problems of my own with my folks to be too observant. Also, Andy’s older.

Andy also got quite a shock today. He accidentally met Karson with someone else he knows at a store. He said yes, she’s fat, ugly and nerdy looking and has a plain face, but isn’t as bad looking as he’d pictured her to be. He said she’s left him two messages in the last month or so that came in while he was on the phone that said she was there to haunt him, but he never called her back and has no intention of doing so either. Fortunately, she hasn’t called here.

Andy said he might break his rule and suck a married guy’s dick, but the guy says he won’t reciprocate. Then again, maybe not, cuz the guy got cold feet, I think.

Andy says he’s rather glad that he lost two days of his vacation, cuz now he doesn’t feel like he has to rush to do his packing, laundry, etc. He said it took away from his Springfield time, not his beach time. On the 11th, maybe a day or two before, he’ll leave for the beach, but he’ll probably only be at his parents' condo in Springfield for about 24 hours. Then he’ll be at the beach for the remainder of the time. From the 11th to the 14th is when he told me to pick a time to call, cuz that’s when he’ll be there alone with his pal Adam. He said to call when it’s nighttime there, cuz he intends to keep the same schedule during his stay there. He said he’ll probably sleep from 6 AM to 2 PM. After the 14th, his brother and his wife and their twins will be there.

He said he’ll say hi to Char for me. He says he’s gotten to be a lot like me where he doesn’t care what others think. He said he’s gonna not give a shit who thinks what if they see him going into Charlotte and Jim’s cottage.

I know Tammy won’t go to the beach cuz it’s bad for Bill and cuz she hates those stuck-up snobs, but I’m surprised she doesn’t see Charlotte somewhere. Doesn’t Charlotte ever go to her house?

You know, I think I may send Charlotte a letter to say hi. I haven’t done so in ages.

Later…

I did that floral frame design with different plants and flowers with lots of detail and color for Charlotte & Jim’s letter. I sure am getting faster at doing these things.

Tom’s up now and he fixed the printer, so I printed out Charlotte & Jim’s letter, Kim’s letter, and this draft which will be Bob’s when I’m done with it.

I saw Funny Toes again the other day and that yellow thing was in his chest, so who knows what the hell that’s all about? He wasn’t limping, though, so that’s good.

Tom and I decided not to send any of my songs for that contest, cuz we checked into it and that guy’s a definite scammer. He wants to steal lines for plaques, mugs and shit like that. I disagree, but Tom says he does think my songs are good enough to steal. He wants to put music with them someday, so that’s why it’s more important to him that they don’t get stolen.

Later…

Well, this is the latest scoop on the preliminary test of the sound blocks, which aren’t framed and sealed yet.

The bass is probably only gonna be muted slightly, due to the fact that bass penetrates walls. They blasted off twice today which is more typical than 10 times a day. Once, Tom heard it while I was still asleep and it didn’t wake me, so that’s all well and good. They also came and went about two other times silently.

Tom and I were in the living room when they played ball for a few minutes and that was way softer, so that part of it seems promising. Tom loves how it’s already made a tremendous difference as far as cooling goes.

When I asked why Tom thought they sometimes leave quietly and sometimes not, he says he thinks he’s probably got the radio on and when he hears a song he likes, he blares it.

Oh, I figured he’d be playing CDs. Well, I asked Tom, in a joking yet serious way, “Since God hates me, why don’t you pray to him and ask him to make sure that a song he hates is on when he’s coming or going?”

I still think they’re probably from Chicago or someplace with 4 seasons like I am and are dying to take their shit outdoors more often when the weather cools down.

He still says, though, that once the blocks are sealed in, I will have no problem tolerating their shit. Well, let’s hope so, otherwise somebody’s got to set them straight and put them in their place. This weekend we’ll be sealing them in, but if we have to shut them up ourselves, we will. It’s been totally useless praying to God to simmer them down. I’ve tried twice and God’s never answered my prayers as far as other neighbors’ noise, so why should he start now? This is definitely something he wants to be a big part of my life and has since the NHA. If I think about it, it kind of started in 1990 when I came off the Navane. Or was that ‘89? Well, the good in it is, is that it’s usually about two minutes of bass a day and not about 16 hours worth of constant shit from several different sources and several different sounds. It’s not constant kids, constant dogs, constant music or constant banging. I just don’t understand, though, why they can’t just be quiet like normal human beings. Normal people don’t make it a point to play their music for others and they don’t go bouncing basketballs in their driveways for hours at a time either.

Good news on the house. They’re calling it even so we are current on the payments. We were behind 3 payments and now we’ve got 13 years left on the house, plus 3 months, so that’s great. Tom said he certainly can’t promise anything, but he feels that it’d be possible for us to move after the New Year, whether I’m pregnant or not. No way. I really think it’ll be years before we move and God knows how many more families will be next door while we’re still here.

I’ll be giving Andy a call sometime tonight, who leaves for the airport at 10 PM tomorrow.

Tammy and the others will be at our parents' place tomorrow. Lucky her, huh?

Well, I’m gonna go jot down a quick grocery list, then play a computer game, then I’ll return.

Later…

I was just playing Jezzball on the computer. I’ve yet to get past level 11, but I got the closest I’ve ever come to doing so just now. That’s a game where it starts off with two balls and goes up from there. What you have to do is section them off. Something like that, anyway, where you have to clear 75% of the window they’re in without hitting them.

Now I’m wondering what the hell’s up with Kim. She mentioned something about female problems, and I’ve left her a message or two and haven’t heard from her. Although she could very well have tried to contact me while I was asleep. She doesn’t always leave messages.

Now I’m gonna go give Andy a buzz and see what’s up with him.

Later…

No answer. I left him a message, so if he wants to call, he will.

Tom’s still completely sure I’ll be pregnant in a month. How? A DES daughter at 30 years old, huh? Once again, does he know something I don’t? Do I think he really did hold back and planned all along not to cum till now? It’s possible, but if he hasn’t admitted this by now, he never will and that’s OK. Well, it is and it isn’t OK. I mean, he should’ve told me from the get-go if that was truly the case, but now that he’s cumming and that 2½ of one-sided sex is over, it’s OK. I can deal with it now. Some things are like that. When he told me after we were married for a while that he thought I’d be a lousy wife, but loved me as I was, it didn’t hurt me. I found it rather amusing, but if he’d told me that when we were getting married, I’d have wondered.

Wow. I actually got chilly and I’m in the back room where there are no sound blocks. So I turned the AC from high to medium and turned the ceiling fan off.

Larry called earlier and he was dog tired. He talked to Tom and gave him his condolences. He started to say it was 40º when we knew it wasn’t just so he could hear me laugh. Then, I told him a joke on a bumper sticker I saw that says: Wanna get laid? Then crawl up a chicken’s ass and wait.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 6, 1996 Dear Marty,

I am so so sorry for falsely accusing you of that message. I received a call today, from someone whose name I won’t mention that apologized for accusing me of calling them. They now know who was harassing them. We ended up having a decent conversation and as I listened to this person, I could tell it wasn’t you, but it sure does sound almost exactly like you! I informed this person that I’ve got too much of a record to keep doing stuff like that, am too busy, and have respect for my husband, as well as myself. Well, once again, I am so very sorry! Take care.

Jodi Lin

That which I just wrote, was my postcard to Marty, which I forgot to write in.

I’m pissed off cuz Tom said he’d have the printer working right again, after installing some new shit, but it doesn’t. Now I have to wait till morning, but I’ll live. I have a letter to Kim ready to print out and this draft will be part of Bob’s letter.

Got several things to update on. First of all, Tom got acoustic stuff for the living room and music room windows. It’s resting in the windows now, but there’s no frame yet and it’s not sealed up yet. Right now, we’re testing how well it works. So far, so good, but I don’t know if that’s cuz things have been quiet or cuz they really do work well. I didn’t get up till 4 PM today, so I think I was asleep when the dick wad next door left and returned from work (we think he’s a car dealer). Time will tell, though, how well they work, but I like its other functions. It’s dark and peaceful for listening to music in the daytime and I don’t have to deal with next door’s fucking security light blaring on constantly at night. It’ll also cut down our cooling/heating bills and retain cool air and the heat better.

If a problem with next door still persists or if they get worse and to the point where they’re intolerable, Tom will go over there and talk to them. Whether or not that will do any good, who knows?

At first I thought of telling them I’d babysit at least part-time for free if they’d cut the music or do something for them, but then Tom pointed out that I’m making a reasonable request and you don’t reward people for doing what’s right in the first place.

True. What the fuck do I owe them anyway? I don’t owe them shit and like I said before, I was here first. Anyway, I do intend for the problem to be over as of yesterday. I still don’t know if it’ll be over due to the sound blocks, Tom talking to them, me kicking the shit out them or what, but it’s over, cuz I’m setting the rules here and one of them is that their music is gonna be for their ears only whether they like it or not. What I say about that is how it’s gonna be.

Enough about these freeloaders and on to other stuff.

Andy and I talked earlier and he won’t be leaving till the 8th at 10 PM, cuz Marla sent the tickets out late.

He was telling me that Marla’s still pissed off at Charlotte and my mother for what happened with her mother, but mostly at Charlotte. Someone suggested to Charlotte that she go and try to resume her friendship with Judy. Judy overheard that from someone, then Charlotte overheard that Judy said she probably would resume the friendship if Charlotte apologizes to her for the shit that went down 20 years ago. Charlotte then said that she had nothing to apologize for and that’s what gets Marla. Andy tried to tell Marla to forget the past and let it go and not wish Charlotte to drop dead as she has been.

Andy’s got a point about letting the past rest, but at the same time, I know how hard that can be at times. In the case of Marty, is where I can relate to that. I tried to tell myself, “Forget about it. You know what you did wrong in the past and what he did wrong in the past. You know he couldn’t beat you now, let alone scare you, so drop it.” But that’s obviously been hard to do, otherwise I wouldn’t have sent the letter and the card just so I could let him know I could take him in a fight nowadays. Between Bonnie and Barbara from Woodside Terrace and Norwich, they were the final straw to making me how I am now. I refuse to take shit from anyone.

Years ago, if I had heard Joely next door say something threatening about me from our yards, for example, I’d have kept my mouth shut and if I saw her I’d act like I knew nothing about it. Not now, though. Uh-uh. I’d now say, “I heard that! Why don’t you meet at my front door and we’ll discuss it face to face!” And if she didn’t come to my door, I’d probably go to hers. No one’s gonna threaten, push, or slap me ever again and get away with it. I refuse to stand there like a scared wimp and take it. I shall stand my ground, no matter how much tougher the other person is.

That drunk, Hank, from Oswego Street was also lucky I wasn’t like I am today, although we did end up friendly. I know that they say that fighting one who fights you is lowering yourself to their level, but I see it as defending yourself and keeping them off your case. If I didn’t turn around and say, "Hey, wait a minute Bonnie. I ain’t running from you," she’d have kept picking at me for sure.

No, I do not like violence, but I promise to take care of anyone else who fucks with me, my husband or our stuff within normal reason. I’m gonna show them that surprises do come in small packages, even though it’s been a long time since there’s been a need to, and even though I hope I’ll never have to.

Andy was telling me how he’s been discussing with his family how he and his family have come to realize I’m not what all those rumors said I was. I told Andy that was nice of him, but not to worry. People are gonna believe what they want and they can do that if they wish to. Also, I really have too much of a label on me that can’t wash off of everyone. Besides, it doesn’t matter. The labels put on me by my mother can no longer harm me in any way. There’s nothing Judy or Aunt Ruth could do to me if they still thought I was crazy except to ignore me.

Andy and those he’s told are appalled that my mother could spread bad or personal stuff around about me and not let me talk about what interests me. Yes, I know it’s wrong, but I’m used to it and that’s how she’s always gonna be. My mother’s attitude may have changed a little about me since I came here, but she’s still mostly the same old Dureen. Tammy’s like that, too.

MONDAY, AUGUST 5, 1996 I didn’t get the chance to write about the weekend which was both wonderful and shitty. Let me get the shitty things out of the way and save the best for last. I already wrote about one of the shitty things which was how alone I felt on Saturday, but yes, I was compensated for that and I’ll get into that after.

The other shitty thing was next door and of course, my trust in Robin has been shot. I just can’t trust her at all when it comes to next door cuz what she says is either hit or miss. She was wrong for the second time about next door and of course, praying to God only made things worse.

They usually come blasting in and out once or twice a day next door, but this time it was about 10 times. Even the two friends they had visiting blasted their way in and out. The friends were there for about an hour or two and I think it was cuz of the closing ceremonies of the Olympics. Of course, they spent that hour or two outside talking as loud as kids do, huddled right against the block wall on our side. Their kitchen is right there, so that’s why.

Since there are positives and negatives to everything, I will say this. Robin’s been mostly right about them next door, but when she says don’t worry about the winter and that this winter will be the quietest one ever and that I’ll only hear them occasionally and that they won’t blast their music more than they do and that yesterday’s 10- time blast-out was a rare thing, I don’t buy it. I know they’re just itching for the weather to cool down and dry up so they can have more parties, play ball, etc. Tom says that he thinks they rent that house which brings me to the good in them being there. If they leave like Robin says they might (she doesn’t know for sure) around the New Year, we may get it worse with whoever moves in there. Screaming kids that are home all the time, dogs and who knows how much company. At least so far, they don’t have too much company or ball games, they don’t have any dogs and the music, however obnoxious, if only for a minute or two at a time.

Maybe this house is owned by an agent of some kind, cuz this house turns over so much. This is the third family that’s been over there since 1993 and there’s been for sale signs, but never sold signs. If this is true, then that house will turn over at least 5 or more times before we move. That’s also something God would do to me; put me through the stress of wondering who we’re getting over there next several times. It’s hopeless as far as getting some older, quieter people with little company and no kids or dogs. God’s just gotta sic something on me. Besides, if this house became dead quiet, he’d just make sure some other house started up with some kind of shit. Yes, it’s quiet 97% of the time around here, but you have no idea just how much the NHA has really scarred me. I’m scarred for life, no matter how much I try to change, adapt or go back to my old ways. Now I have no tolerance left in me, whereas in the past, I could deal with this just fine. There was that train that used to go by my place in Deerfield and vibrate the whole place, even the waterbed, yet it didn’t bother me, I slept through it fine, and it was more than once or twice a day and for longer than a minute or two. I wish I could go back to my old ways as far as that goes, but I’ve never been able to since the NHA. When I hear noise around here, it just totally brings back the whole feeling and atmosphere of the tension and anger I felt at the NHA.

I wish I were 100% deaf or were like Tom. He agrees they’re rude, inconsiderate, and selfish, but it’s no big deal to him. He could tolerate it if it were noisy around here 97% of the time. I wish I were like Goldie and Al too, who hated Sun City cuz they’d never hear a sound outside or see people.

If there are two places I wish I could never have been to, it’d be Valleyhead and the NHA. Better yet, I wish I could go back to never remembering a damn thing in my life before I moved here and keep it that way. The brain is a powerful thing and I tried to manipulate it, but I just can’t change or control my thoughts or feelings. That’d be like making all straight people attracted to the same sex and vice versa. Or making myself hate foods and colors I like and vice versa. The mind just can’t be fooled or changed so easily.

A good 90% of the population is like them next door. They only give a damn about themselves and to turn a stereo down a minute before pulling in is just so damn hard to do and just too damn much to be asked of. The motherfuckers! I wanted to go over there last night so bad and set them straight and let them know that I refuse to have my house invaded and intruded upon with their music, but Tom talked me out of it and insists we can get sound blocks ASAP for the music room and living room windows. Thank God I have such a helpful, supportive, and understanding husband. I mean, can’t they ever come and go unannounced? There were a couple of times when I was in the music room and I did hear someone leave quietly, but why is it that half the time they come and go they do it loudly and other times it’s audible, but not obnoxious? If they have to let me know when they’re leaving or when they’re home, can’t they at least not always have it so loud?

I hate this world and I hate people and I have no regrets about not having so many friends. One best friend here and a couple of others I keep in touch with that are far off works great.

I know it’s wrong for me to say this, cuz I do know there’s good and bad in every kind, but I’m starting to look down on blacks again. I’m sick of their loud bassy music and they’re the rulers of drugs, gangs and crime in this country and last I heard, 25% of them are in jail. I have known wonderful black people, but this is the lowest kind of them there is and due to the fact that so many end up in jail, especially young ones, I hope to hell this guy does time or permanently breaks up with Joely. Most parents are so screwed up, though, that if he left or got carted off to jail, she’ll just be desperate to seek out a new rap-blasting, rude, selfish, obnoxious, loud-mouthed, inconsiderate, spoiled ass of a boyfriend.

Tom also suggested keeping a log of how often they blast off, and we’re doing so, but I don’t see what good that’d do. I told Tom that maybe he should go have a word with them since it did me no good and since as he said himself, he’s the kind of guy who gets along with everyone and his whole demeanor has a persuasive way that’s even more influential than mine. Tom disagrees and says that due to their age, they’ll just be defiant, defensive and rebellious and make things worse. I thought about asking the piggy across the street to have a word with them, but I’m not intimidated by authority figures, so why should they be? If I’m not, people like that most definitely wouldn’t be.

He said we’ll first try out the sound blocks and see whatever other shit they may pull on us, before taking any action of whatever kind. The sound blocks won’t completely muffle it out, but hopefully it’ll cut the bulk of it down. I know that there’s a huge difference between the two bedrooms and they’re in the same location. If it weren’t for the fan and the sound blocks in the bedroom, I’d never get any sleep around here. Not unless I slept at night all the time, but not even then, cuz of the damn two dogs next to them. If I were on the Navane I used to be on, that’d be different, but I’m not going through the shit I went through with getting physically and mentally addicted to drugs again. Well, hopefully the sound blocks will do a good job and God will compensate me with a kid, but I doubt that one. I wish I knew why he was doing this to me. I never did anything to these people.

They’re lucky I’m not Tammy as she’d have brought them to their knees months ago. Well, if I ever end up going over there it’ll be cuz my fuse has blown and cuz I’m so fed up, but I hope that’ll never have to happen. I’ll tell you one thing for sure, though, and that’s that any mail of theirs I get over here is going right in the garbage.

OK, now that I’m done bitching about what pisses me off, I’ll get to the good news. After Tom returned from Evelyn’s we went to Best Buy where I got a fanfuckingtastic stereo! Technically it’s a boom box and it’s small and lightweight, but it sure is powerful. Not quite as powerful as the other one, but I was using 4 speakers before, which I might be able to do again. With the headphones, it’s fine. It’s got 3 CD trays, dual cassette, radio, with 2 detachable speakers and more features than I could ever use. It’s got a remote, a clock, timer set, pre-set radio stations and more. What I don’t like about it is that the CD scanner is slow and the tapes don’t have auto-reverse or a way to scan through tapes. Also, the headphone jack is on top of it, which is a weird place for it. Other than that I love the new stereo and it was just under $200. As a bonus, you got $40 worth of free CDs just for buying any JVC product. So, I got a total of 5 Linda CDs. The most I’ve ever gotten in one shot and now I’ve got the bulk of her stuff on CD. I got her new one and at first I thought I’d hate it. She doesn’t sing her usual vibrant and loud self. She’s singing in a breathy falsetto voice throughout the whole thing and there are no upbeat songs. So far, just like with Gloria’s new CD, there are only two songs I like on it.

I also got a new CD rack that holds 120 CDs and I have 119 CDs. I gave Tom the old one I had in there which holds about 60, to use for his computer CDs.

I saw Gloria last night at the closing ceremonies and was surprised she lip-synced the song Reach. She sang bits and pieces of about 5 other hits of hers live. She looked unusually good for having a kid barely two years ago, but with the way she can afford good clothing, I’m sure she looks disgusting naked or in a bathing suit. The rich can also do cosmetic surgery. She had a hairpiece on which was a good 2 or 3 shades lighter than her own hair. Her face looked good and she sang well, but the sound system was a bit muffled. It’s hard to get good sound outdoors in such a huge place with so many thousands of people.

Got a letter from Bob and finally, he said something that made me crack up. “I love you like I gave birth to you, my beloved daughter.”

That’d be pretty neat, that a guy could give birth! Kim will get a kick out of it when I tell her.

Yesterday Tom got computer parts to make the two computers faster, so that’s nice to have

I have $50 bucks of my money left. I offered it for Tom to use for the sound blocks, but he said no, that was OK, and I told him that if I could type anything up for him or whatever, to let me know. With my $50, I’ll probably get a bathing suit and maybe a cat/kitty mug, which Tom says they have at PetSmart. I might get a journal and a few other small things.

This weekend we didn’t get around to doing the back room, which is kind of cluttered again (what else is new!). But in the next 2-3 weeks, the back room, patio, roof, rafters, and sound blocks should be up.

More good news for this weekend and that was that yesterday Tom got off. I could tell for sure, but more in the way of how he throbbed than in the way he juiced. Robin was right again, saying that’d happen, but like I said, I don’t buy her I’ll-be-pregnant thing as well as that she and God will do all they can to simmer next door’s music down. If I’m remembering right, she was wrong about things she told me twice and they were both about next door, so I don’t want to hear from her about them. Oh, she also says that if they move, the new neighbors would be no worse than them. Right! These are still basically good neighbors compared to two houses down and the M's when they first got here, so I doubt that cuz most neighbors are quite noisy.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 4, 1996 Boy, was I wrong about Tom! And boy was I wrong about the rest of the weekend, but I’ll write up on it in a sec.

Tom’s home now with groceries, actually, so I’ll return in a few.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 3, 1996 Yesterday I tried calling Larry to wish him a happy birthday, but Jen was home alone again. Jen says Larry’s gonna be calling soon and that she’ll wish Larry a happy birthday for me. He was out getting his permit. Also, Jen says she’s working on a letter for me and some horse drawings.

Tammy called about an hour ago to say goodbye. They’re leaving tomorrow at 4 AM. She’ll be at Mom and Dad’s on Thursday.

Tom’s gonna be just as envious of Tammy as I am. She got an inkjet printer for only $99. The first 35 people into Staples got that, but she had to wait in line for two hours. The cartridges for those things are expensive, but a friend of hers gives them to her for free. We can’t wait to have an inkjet printer and a Stylus printer.

As figured, Tom’s at Evelyn’s now and I’m sure he won’t be back till the evening. Especially since I’m mid-cycle and since old suspicions are returning. Ever since he came he’s been wanting sex less and less and when there has been an opportunity for it, he’s back to making excuses.

Why, Tom? I cannot get pregnant. You have nothing to fear.

The other day we were discussing taking stuff for labor pains and to numb the crotch area. Tom says why not take advantage of modern medicine and whatever they have to make things more comfortable? Yeah, well, I’ll leave that for women who can and will have kids to decide.

I’ve been so fucking bored today. Once again, I feel like our time together and sex is at the bottom of Tom’s list. Will God compensate me with us spending time together later and with mutual sex where we both get off?

In my dreams, he will!

I wish I had some poster board right now. I’d like to try some large-scale drawings.

Later…

My bored self is watching TV now.

I forgot to mention earlier that Robin popped in on me last night to tell me the same old bull on how I’ll be pregnant in either August, September, or October, won’t have a miscarriage, won’t need a C-section, and that we will survive and have no regrets. She also told me the doctor will make sure I understand all my options for when I have it and that I won’t regret whatever method I choose.

Lastly, she told me Tom will cum this weekend for sure and I’ll certainly know it.

No way! Just as I feared, Tom’s cumming was a rare occasion, but after another two years goes by again, maybe he’ll cum again and do that at least every other year. Yes, I know Tom’s surprised me before and proved me wrong, but 80% of my gut feelings are still accurate. It’d take a million miracles for him to get off this weekend or anytime soon. Then it’d take another million years for me to conceive.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 2, 1996 I haven’t had too much time to write, so by now I’m sure I’ve forgotten things.

Goldie & Al’s and Boo & Max’s envelopes went out today, so they should have them no later than Wednesday. Marty’s card went out today, too.

This is really super weird, but after Robin supposedly “helped out” the bird, I saw the yellow thing in him again. Robin said something about God undoing some things she does. You mean God would undo helping a hurt bird?! This just goes to show, once again, how warped God can be.

However, this morning it was gone again. And once more, I could see the hole the thing left and it was still limping. I know this had to be the same bird throughout all this, cuz this was Funny Toes. The only bird with a birth defect. Instead of having 3 front toes and 1 back toe on each foot, one’s got 4 front toes, and 2 of them are stuck together. Pretty weird, huh?

THURSDAY, AUGUST 1, 1996 Before I get going on Goldie & Al’s and Boo & Max’s envelopes, I’ll just quickly update stuff.

I guess I misunderstood Tom about a few things. I thought that about $200,000 or $300,000 was to be split 5 ways, but he was really talking about 1 of their 5 or 6 different accounts. Ma’s got about $100,000, plus she’ll be getting about $850 a month which will be more than she needs, and the house is all paid for. It was Dad’s checking account that got split between the 5 kids, so we got $5,000.

We sat down and discussed which bills were the most important to get paid and how much extra we wanted to spend on him, me and us. So, we paid the most important bills, set money aside for the roof and my teeth and then we’re taking a total of $750 for whatever we want or need, but mostly what we want.

I told Tom that that’s his money and to be sure it’s OK for me to spend any on fun stuff like a new CD player, CDs, a CD rack, etc.

I also misunderstood him when I thought he’d said that it was OK to hurt someone just to deal with something. What he really meant was…try not to hurt someone, of course, but to also understand that one of us may say something to the other that we truly feel that may hurt the other, but that it’s not intentional.

We also agree that we may both believe the same things and we may not. For example, we both agree we have bills to pay, so we sat down and decided what should be paid ASAP. On the other hand, he believes we’ll have a kid and I don’t, so if he’s right, we’ll go along with whatever plans he may have in mind to best support it and work things out. If I’m right, then we’ll probably move sooner and take a different course of plans in life or at least do them sooner.

We think we can move in a year or two, but if he’s right and we have a kid, which is our number one top priority, we may wait till it’s one or two years old, cuz we don’t want to give it to someone to babysit it while we move till it’s older.

We’ve decided not to get newer and more modern furniture till we move into a newer and more modern house.

I updated our list of stuff to buy and do and we hope to have time now, to do stuff around here. We still have to pretty up the patio and get rid of that old chair and those water tanks.

We’re doing stuff to save money too, so that we better our chances of not getting in a financial jam again and to better our chances of meeting the deadlines we’ve estimated as far as our goals go. So, I offered to wash silverware from now on and not have him buy plastic silverware. I’ve washed dishes for most of the 10 or 11 years I’ve been on my own, so it’s nothing new.

Tom still hopes for a better job doing something he likes and I still hope to sell some artwork.

I got a letter from Bob yesterday with nothing new. He did enclose a letter for Minnie which he asked me to mail, so I did so today.

Now here’s something we really disagree on and of course, it’s easy for me to say that Tom either lost his mind or is quite a joker. Well, he’s always told me that in his opinion, I’m about an 8 or 9 as far as looks go. He says, though, that having a kid will make me more attractive and put me to a 9 or 10. That’s impossible. First of all, I’ll never be this thin again. I’ll have all the more of a lousy shape and the stretch marks I’ll have will be beyond imagination.

Yesterday we went over to mom’s who was there alone. She looked tired and sad, but can you blame her?

We put the sewing stuff back together and now it’s the same old sewing room again that it used to be but with new carpet. I vacuumed the computer room and we put the door to the sewing room back up.

She also let me borrow a couple of books, but I’ve still got to finish that big book by Dean Koontz. One of the books I got is about the Amy Fisher story and the other’s about two sisters who are stalked.

She said she’d take care of me for vacuuming next time around, but I told her not to worry about it.

I’ll call Larry tomorrow and wish him a happy 16th birthday and right now, I’m gonna check my email, then call Tammy. She’s taking off on the 4th, so I want to wish them a happy and safe trip and tell them to send us postcards.

Andy’s to be leaving on the 7th for two weeks.

Later…

I just did talk to Tammy who’s taking care of last-minute things till they leave. She says that what I did to her mother-in-law in Springfield doesn’t bother her and that she hasn’t talked to her in months. She says that she left Lisa’s concert cuz the girls didn’t want to sit with her and then she called Tammy a bitch in front of the kids. I agree with Tammy when she said that not even mom would do that. Mom would take Tammy aside away from the kids if she really had to let Tammy have it.

Later…

I’m in the back room now and I can see 3 of my birds from where I am. One’s in the window, one’s on the water tank, and one’s up in the rafters.

Someone shot or did something to one of my birds unless it had some kind of accident. One of my long-time regulars has something stuck in its chest and limps. I’m surprised it can fly or that it’s even alive. It’s a small round bright yellow thing, that looks like it could be some kind of arrow, but I’m not sure. I’ll describe it to Tom and see what he thinks.

Somebody around here better not be fucking with my birds. I don’t see how it could’ve landed on something that stabbed it and got stuck in it by accident, so my guess is that it’s some demented kids fucking around.

I got the backs of Goldie, Al, Boo and Max’s envelopes done and I’ll be doing the fronts soon.

Got a message from that site that put out my search request for Robin. They asked if they could publish any comments or input I make and I said fine, go ahead. They also say that all songs for this contest I have to find out more about can have up to 50 lines. No problem. I don’t have songs that long and who cares if they get stolen since I’m not going to be a singer. I doubt anyone would want them that bad to steal them. I mean, for the most part, my songs are just good and not great. Later I’ll ask Tom to help me do what would be the best method of getting the songs to them and finding out more details about the contest.

I did 10 push-ups for the first time in my life the other day, so that was cool. Tom says that my arms seem more fit and defined than when we first met and that my lower body’s the same. Maybe my arms are fit, cuz Tom reminded me that I couldn’t do push-ups when we first met, which is true. I just wish my lower body was more fit, but that’s what I get for being too lazy to work on it. Besides, if Tom’s right, I don’t think it’d matter anymore cuz I’d be in such bad shape. It’ll be hopeless then.

After Tom gets off work today, he’s gonna take me to get a birthday card for Tammy, an anniversary card for my parents and that I’m-so-sorry card for Marty & Ruth. I’m glad Marty & Ruth didn’t make any contact with me, though, as I expected them not to.

In Larry’s letter, I told him I’m sorry Jenny C’s mom died even though her mother was no angel and could be a mean little drunk. I kept that last part to myself.

As I told Larry, I was glad she didn’t end up getting ahold of me. I still think past friendships should remain past friendships. Also, we’re 3000 miles away from each other and are very different. I told him I know we’ve grown out of our old ways and that I don’t hate her, but I learned my lesson as far as buddy sharing goes. I don’t share friends with other friends or family members. My husband, though, is a different story. He can be friends with my friends if he wants to or not and the same goes for me.

I’m frying up some lunch now, but after I eat, I’ll write about a bizarre and horrible dream I had a couple of nights ago.

Later…

Now that is just too weird! That yellow thing that was stuck in that bird is gone. He’s still limping a bit, but how can something that looked to be pretty stuck in there, fall out?

Now for that weird and terrible dream I had. Well, the horrible one started off weird, then turned to horror. I was walking with Tom in a fair or something like that when this woman asked me if I had $80 worth of children. I said I didn’t have any children as if the question she asked was perfectly normal.

She was deaf and I signed to her, “This is my husband,” and introduced Tom.

Then Tom and I began to walk away and I kept saying, “I know that girl from somewhere.”

Then it hit me and I raced back to the girl and said, “Remember?! I was Anna & Harry’s foster kid too. You were my foster sister.”

Then she remembered and we were in tears of joy to have met up with each other and the thought of being friends. In real life, though, I was Anna & Harry’s one and only foster kid and I had no foster sister there, although I called this 22-year-old girl named Bonnie my foster sister. She lived on my floor. So, I don’t really know this fictitious dream character.

Then Tom went his own way to leave us to get reacquainted. We signed to each other about our lives since we last saw each other and the next thing I know, we were on this little minibus. Suddenly there were cruisers everywhere and I saw that there was a riot going on.

I cried out, “Oh, no! Where’s Tom?”

Then I noticed 4 chairs with people sitting side by side. They all toppled over with the people still in them. At one end of the line of chairs, a woman and a baby toppled over and I thought to myself, I can’t believe people would carry on like this with a baby in the midst of it all!

Then I saw that Tom was at the other end of the 4 chairs and that the chair was tipped over with him still in it. He lay on his side with his arms at his side and his eyes shut tight and with no movement whatsoever.

Panic filled me and I grabbed the girl’s arm and signed, “I need you.” Meaning, that I’d need her to get me through whatever was to come of all this.

I looked at Tom’s completely motionless body and prayed, "Please move, open your eyes, start stirring, wake up!" I didn’t know if he was dead or alive, but I knew I had to find out and find out who did this to him.

Then I woke up. It was a horribly real, scary, and sad dream.

It was neat, though, to sign a whole dream, for the most part, then to remember it so I could see what I said.

[mochiswifey]

If Only You Were A Different Person

Kanji Mochizuki*Naoto Tachibana

CW: Angst*Slight Smut*Cheating*Human Trafficking

You stare down at the girls being auctioned from the safe distance of the private lounge. They were the same age as you but unlike you? They wore skimpy cheap clothes.

Being trafficked.

Perverted men stared at them hungrily and it made your stomach sick.

The girl in the center… Tears were uncontrollably flowing down her cheeks. She looks young… Maybe even younger than you are.

Scared for her future- there's no future for her. You knew it. And you hate that you couldn't do anything about it.

You didn't ask to be born in this world. And you didn't asked to be married to him. But like them you couldn't do anything.

You were fated to be in this life. And there's nothing you could do about it.

"Don't tell me you feel sorry for them." Kanji appeared to your side towering over you. He was holding his whiskey casually swirling it around.

He reeked of alcohol, drugs, and worst. Perfume of other women. But you knew better than to complain knowing it would end up in nowhere.

You glance over the table he came from and saw that various drugs were scattered.

You shake your head disappointed. He looked mature. More mature than the other executives but he wasn't better.

"Please leave me alone." You whisper and he chuckled before leaning down to your ear and blowing on them making you step back.

"You know, even though I ignore you. I like you."

You felt sicker because the truth is. Though, you don't agree with him being in Bonten and trafficking helpless girls? You love him.

It's the way of his arms being wrapped around you on nights when he sleeps in the same bed- he makes you feel secure even though he's also the reason you're scared.

You're fucking scared of what might become of him and you if you continue this life with him. You know that people who surrounds you are demons and so is your husband but...

He just feels different when his arms are around you.

“What do you think of me fucking you dumb tonight?” He moved behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulder resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Hmm? Sounds good?”

“I have an exam tomorrow.” You pry his arms off and left the room.

You didn’t look at him as you know a smirk is what would be on his face.

You didn't know why he called you to come. When you came in he was making out with two women and- you don't understand him. And... even as you kept on thinking you couldn't figure him out.

You shake your head as you walk down the hallway. Hating yourself for loving the wrong man and not being able to help the girls.

"W-what!" You were pulled into the corner. You tried to scream for help but the man hushed you with a gun on your temple.

"Name's detective Tachibana Naoto." He introduces himself and that's the beginning of your betrayal.

To your father, bonten , and to the man you swore to love until the end of your day.

——————

Kanji found your sudden change of heart about their business suspicious. But he thought that you could do no harm.

And you might hate him but you wouldn't betray your husband right?

He might be a cheating bastard and a horrible criminal but he meant what he said that day. He likes you. And maybe his heart would face heartbreak when you betrayed him.

It started with simple questions of how long does an auction takes, how much are the girls sold, to who’s mostly involved in auctions. His answers were vague and not helpful so….

You didn't dare to step foot into his office. Not once in the spam of five years you two had been married but- suddenly you show up.

"Out of the room." You tell the whore who is desperately grinding on your husband's lap. She hurriedly went out of the room scared of you.

You have the reputation of doing a one-two one-two combos on those who pisses you off. Or as Shion would put it.... Floyd Mayweathering bitchess.

And Kanji might've gotten whores who have sharp nasty tongues once or a few dozen times. Resulting them into becoming your personal punching bag.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean-" He started his usual bullshit apology but you didn't let him finish as you slam a lunchbox on his desk.

Freshly made.

"What's this?" He questions as he stares at them.

"Food, duh."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He looks up to you with a confused face and you only chuckled to him.

"Open it."

"Is this a bomb or something?" You're a good actress. But this specific question of his made you really laugh.

"What? Kanji. No. Just open the goddamn lunch boxes." He was hesitant but he did. Inside the lunchbox were cute characters.

"What the hell-"

"I thought you looked like a bear with mantis eyebrows so I made you a bear onigiri! With deformed eyebrows!” You were so cheerful that he couldn't help but laugh. He should be pissed but… you looked so happy to give him food.

"You're full of nonsense." He rolls his eyes.

"Shut up! Old bastard just eat what your wife made you." You joked and he blushed when you used the word wife.

Kanji took a bite and was instantly hooked on the taste of the food you cooked.

"My mother taught me how to make the best fresh salmon onigiri." You proudly twirl around before giving him a courtesy.

"You're so fucking weird." He says before taking another bite.

Starting from that day, not only did the lunches start but also you listened to him more. You thought it would be difficult but Kanji opened up to you faster than expected.

You were sitting on the bed one night ready to watch Rick and Morty when Kanji came home looking exhausted.

"Hey..." You stood up and went to him helping him take off his suit.

"Hey." He greets back before kissing you. Your eyes widen and he chuckled before loosening his tie.

You bit your lip before placing his suit on the racket. He's acting weird. Weirder than you are.

"How's your day?" You started.

"Same old shit." He replies and you hummed in respond.

"How about you?" He asks and you felt yourself tense up as you have spent your day with Naoto planning the downfall of everyone surrounding you.

There was guilt, and shame. But you knew what you're doing is the right thing.

For the girls, you, and for him.

"N-not much."

Kanji noticed your tense voice and it made him suspicious.

"Did you meet someone today?"

"No. I didn't. I went alone at the park-"

"You didn't bring your body guard?" Kanji might not been the best husband but he takes your safety very seriously. His only rule for you is to have body guards at all time.

"No one will harm me. You're my husband. Everyone fears you." You quickly averted the spotlight away from the fact that you went alone.

Lately, you noticed that whenever you use the word "husband" Kanji softens up and you used it to your advantage.

"I- just don't do it again. I don't want you dying on me. We haven't even drank the wine-" You chuckled remembering your silly idea of keeping wine and drinking it with him on your 10th anniversary.

"You intend of keeping me that long?" You questioned him as you look at the clock. You didn't expect Kanji to be home earlier than never and in exactly 5 minutes Naoto will call you.

"What do you mean? You're my wife."

"That's sweet Kanji. Really sweet. Now take a bath-"

"Are you taking me seriously?" You were startled at his sudden aggression.

"K-Kanji. I am."

He stride towards you and pulled you by your waist. You looked up to him with your glossy eyes and-

"I don't feel like you're taking me seriously." He says his breath hovering over your lips. Dangerously close.

You've never been this intimate with him. Hell. You don't even remember the nights you've had sex with him and-

Yes, you love him. But you didn't know your love for him could grow even further.

The love was starting to fade after you met Naoto- that's a lie. You started to feel something for Naoto as he was someone righteous.

But the love for Kanji never faded.

You started to feel that it's beginning to grow more as Kanji became passionate about the marriage you two were forced into.

"Kanji. I'm taking you seriously."

"Show me then. Actions speaks louder than words." He says.

You mentally rolled your eyes before kissing him. You first nibbled on his lower lips before licking them. Shoving your tongue inside his earning a moan from him.

His hand went from your waist to your ass lifting you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he deepens the kiss.

Your hands wrapped around his shoulder as he slowly grinned your clothes cunt to his torso making you grip on him.

"N-no. I have something to do tomorrow"

"I don't care."

That night Naoto feared that something happened to you as you never answered one of his calls under the name of Yukina.

You woke up still in a daze after Kanji fucked you into oblivion. You thought he would be gone like any other times but surprisingly he was standing in front of the glass wall naked, his perfect ass facing you.

You bit your lips as you turn to your stomach eyes glued into his ass.

"Who's this... Yukina? She called you continuously while I fucked your soul." Your smile faded.

You knew he would ask about the phone call.

"Friend. We hang out a lot. We always talk around the time you were drilling your cock inside me so... she might've been worried since I wasn't returning her calls." You lied flawlessly?

"I would know if you were fucking other men." He says out of nowhere making you sit up.

"I'm not."

"Good." He says before walking towards the bed and once again hovering over you.

"I'm sore."

"What do you think of becoming a mother?"

"What?"

"I want a child with you. A baby. Just so you don't need to talk to other people like this Yukina person-"

"I won't be a good mother and you would be an absent father." You strongly oppose his idea. Making a frown appeared on his face and you sighed.

"We're not ready for a child Kanji. You don't even like me enough-"

"I fucked your brains out last night didn't I?"

"So does that mean you like me as much as you like your whores?" Kanji's eye flinched and he stood up losing the mood.

"You're my wife. Not my whore."

Kanji sat on the edge of the bed his nails digging on the mattress. You felt horrible.

Horrible for betraying him even thought he betrayed you first.

Horrible for planning his downfall while making him happy.

And horrible for not hating the idea of starting a family with him.

Yes. It's true that you're not ready but... you've always wanted a child with him. You've always imagine of building a family with him and you thought it wouldn't hurt to let him fuck his seed into you. You're sure that nothing would come out of it.

You crawled towards him and kissed his back.

"Don't be mad. I'm just scared."

"I'm not." He says before he turned around and smashing his lips on yours. It was such a hungry kiss that you've forgotten the topic you two were arguing about the past minute or so.

-------

The next time you saw Naoto was a few weeks after that.

"I got this files. It's a yatch filled with underage girls. Kanji would be there and so does the other executives of Bonten. Four weeks from now.” You explained as you push the file you took from Kanji’s office.

"Are you sure about this?" Naoto says before taking a sip of his coffee. He grew fond of you after knowing you for a few months. And after knowing you he quickly learned that you truly love your husband.

So, it was a mystery on why you kept on helping him.

"I am. This is enough to put them behind bars-"

"You're putting your husband behind bars-"

"I know." You give him a sad smile.

"Do you love him?" He asked a forbidden question but for the short amount of time you have known him... He earned your trust.

"I do. I really do. He's a murderer. A cheat, a criminal but... he's my husband. And I feel safe around him even though I never felt love." You confessed as you stab your pie around with your fork.

“Then why help me? You could’ve turned me-“

“Because I love him.” Naoto placed his coffee down and clasped his hands together seemingly trying to understand you.

“He’s been in this business for an awfully long time. And I know that the longer you stay in here the darker you get. He’s not lost yet Naoto. I need to save him just like I need to save those girls.”

Naoto nodded and closed his eyes before opening them and looking at you with an expression you couldn’t read.

“How do you know he’s not far gone?”

A dreadful feeling overwhelmed your chest.

“Because I can feel that he’s slowly melting for me. And gosh I hope to god he’s not far gone.”

That night when you came home, you were surprised to see Kanji’s shoes. He was home before you were.

“Kanji?” You called out for him as you headed towards the kitchen.

“Surprise.”

“What the-“ Your jaw dropped as you see the kitchen well decorated with candles, flowers, and everything you’d imagine to a perfect date.

“Happy 5 years and 3 months of marriage.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled.

“You’re so full of nonsense”

“Whaaat? I think this fits you well!” He defends himself.

“You did this?”

“I paid someone to do this but! Technically I did this because I paid them.” You set your purse to the kitchen counter before waking towards him and pulling his collar. You gave him a peck on the lips before hugging him.

You’re a cheating bastard but I fucking love you.

You burried your face into his chest and the two of you started slow dancing to an imaginary music.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ve never been this nice to me.” A sighed escape his mouth as he sway the two of you side to the side.

“I know.”

“Why now?”

“I don’t know. I just figured you’re a good wife.” Your eyes started to fill with tears. You love him. You really do but…

“After we got married I thought you were extremely annoying. I hated that you have a strong sense of justice. I hated that you’re educated while I’m not. I hated that you still treated me with respect even thought you’ve seen me with countless of women.” Kanji was never good with words but this is his way of telling you he loves you.

“Do you love me?” He ask.

“Do you?” You threw the question back.

“I think I do.”

“I do too.”

————

The yacht was filled with the usual girls ready to be trafficked. Kokonoi and Takeomi was sure Bonten would take back triple the budget they've used. "We're getting bags tonight!" Ran bumped his shoulder excitedly at Kanji making him roll his eyes.

"Pick one and it's on me." He says. Kanji would've taken someone. But after he fell for you... He refused to fuck anyone other than you.

"That's so unlike you." The older Haitani mocked him but he didn't budge.

He realized that he wasted five years of his life to worthless whore and now he’s ready to build a family with you.

"I have a wife-" "Since when did you start to care about that-" He grabbed Ran by his collar and almost punched him in the face.

If only Mikey wasn't in the vicinity he would've went through it.

"Don't fuck with me by insulting my wife. You'll eat my fucking fist if you do." The older Haitani raised his hands in defeat making Kanji let go.

He mumbled curse words before finally going away.

Kanji was pissed. He wanted to be with you and not be surrounded by people he didn't care about.

He wanted to hold you and tell you how much he loves you and he was planning on doing that after he came home to you.

But that was crushed as the police started to flood their private yatch.

One after another, everyone involved in the human trafficking gets cupped and taken to custody including him.

But before he was fully put inside the car Naoto escorted him to you.

“What are you doing here?” He questions you and you bit your lips as tears started falling. The red and blue lights of the police's cars were the only source of lights.

“I’m the one who was working-“

“You betrayed me?”

“I had to save you from this world.”

He shake his head in disbelief and turned his back to you.

“You’re fucking dead to me.”

“Kanji-“

“You’re fucking dead to me.” He repeats.

"N-no. Kanji. I-" You try to touch him but he stepped back and looked at you with a disgusted expression breaking your heart.

"I love you." "Well, I don't. I never and will never love you. That's why I never came home. Because you disgust me. You fucking disgust me." He started yelling and breaking your heart even more.

"Y-you don't mean that."

"I fucking mean every single fucking word."

Naoto gave you a pitiful stare before escorting your husband back to the police car. You knew he would never forgive you. But you needed him out of this horrible world.

As a primary informant your life changed overnight. You were no longer allowed to go outside and you were kept in a private facility for valuable informants.

You knew you’d have to live with the consequences of your betrayal. Both to Bonten and to your husband.

Him, along with the other executive were sentence of minimum of 7 years in prison. But you’re sure it would be longer than that as seas of charges were gonna be soon stacked against them.

And you were right.

The supreme court pushed the accusations and they were sentence to death. Luckily, you were able to convince Naoto to pull some files away saving Kanji from it.

The other's weren't so lucky and one by one their execution date were given out.

You feared that Kanji would hate you forever as it was you that made him lose everything including the men he considered family.

You knew. You knew from the bottom of your heart that he would never forgive you. But you needed to try and tell him why you did what you did.

Kanji wanted to forget you but he couldn’t. He- he was miserable in maximum prison but even then. You his wife was… he loves you.

And after being sentence into 17 years in prison he wasn’t ready to move on from you and he wished that you would visit him.

But he doubt you would do that.

He was a very horrible husband. He constantly cheated and he told you that you’re dead to him. He said some hurtful words that he regrets-

But…

You came.

“Hey…” you greet him. His face was stoic but beneath it he was overjoyed.

“Hey.” He says back.

“You look better in prison uniform than suits” You joked and made him laugh.

“I know.”

After that there was a long paused.

“Are we getting a divorce-“

“No.” You strongly oppose his question even before he could finish it. A sad smile appeared on his face the same time a lone tear escape his eye.

“17 years will be a long time.”

“We’ve been married for 6? Time flies.” You say as you try your best to hold your tears back.

A broken laugh came out of his mouth as he placed his hand to the glass. You did the same and cursed as the thick glass separates the three of you.

“I’m waiting for you. We’re waiting for you.” You tell him as you rubbed your other hand to your stomach.

“Y-you’re you’re pregnant?” You nodded and a smile appeared on your tears stained face.

“We’re waiting for you.“

———

17 years was a long time. But your love for him didn’t change.

“Hey.” You greet him as he walks towards you freshly out of the prison.

He was dressed in simple attire and… he looked freer. More delighted to be breathing.

“Hey dad.” Your daughter appears from your back and greets him as well.

His eyes formed a thin line as he cries overjoyed at the fact the three of you are now reunited. He wasted no time and pulled the two of you into a hug.

The arms that made you feel secure 17 years ago are now once again wrapped around you and your daughter.

You were glad that you wished he was a different person.

Thank you for reading. Reblogs&Replies are greatly appreciated.

Plagiarism is a crime.