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jodilin65 · 30 years ago

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FRIDAY, MARCH 31, 1995 I just tried to call Tammy but she’s still busy. I want to ask her what temperature and for how many minutes she recommends cooking two big potatoes. For all the shit Tom’s gone through today I want to make him a spaghetti dinner with baked potatoes. I told him I was afraid of this happening, but anyway, they’re fucking him around with his severance checks from AMEX. First, they “conveniently” lost it, then they have it waiting for him way the hell out by the Crystal Creek apartments and he’s gotta spend so much money on gas. I remember how I always had to go through the same old shit with food stamps, SS and SSI. Also, one person tells him one thing, while another person tells him something else. Is that familiar to me, or what? Well, I’m honestly glad that I’m not the breadwinner and driver of this household. Poor guy.

I got a really cool letter from Alex today. He’s now using AOL and says he bought his own computer. He says AOL has more deaf users. Tom suggested we try to get me in touch with deaf people that way. Anyway, where does Alex get the money to buy himself a computer?

The envelope and stationery he used were really cool. I’m gonna stick them both in my binder. The most impressive thing was the hands spelling out “Hi Jodi.” I want that and I must ask Tom where we can get the alphabet. I’m sure it can’t be that hard to find. If we’ve got smiley faces, Christmas stuff, and all kinds of other symbols like animals, flowers, etc., I’m sure we can find it. Maybe it’s something Alex can send just like we sent Tammy’s disks of games.

Later…

That was the best spaghetti I ever made! Yup, it definitely helps to get the water boiling first.

I called Tammy back, but she just got in and hasn’t seen the girls cuz she was with Bill.

She gave me a tip on making those baked potatoes. She said to not bother wrapping it in tin foil, but that it’d probably be an hour. She said to poke holes in them, rub oil on my hands, then on the potatoes.

Next time we talk, I’ll not only find out what’s up with Bill but also tell her about the fingerspelling on Alex’s letter.

Later…

Andy just called and I had to go take my second dump of the day.

Yesterday Tom finally got my door sanded. Not well enough, though, so he’ll have to do it some more. Most importantly, he put a vent in the lower part of the door for when the EC is on. This will make it so much more convenient. Now I don’t have to open that door.

Remember that old fashion, ugly New England-looking wall paneling that was in the kitchen? Well, this is what he’s been using to build the cigarette machine.

An idea came to mind for a magazine rack in the bathroom. Right now there’s a black satin bag nailed up that was a slip from an old “Stevie” dress Andy gave me. I asked him to cut me two pieces of wood that are 12 x 16 then a thicker piece that’s 2½ x 16, sand them smooth, and drill two holes up top of one of the 12 x 16 in the two top corners. Then I’ll nail it together and put contact paper on it.

Larry oughta get his edit tape today.

Later…

I sure got a lot done today! I surprised Tom with that magazine rack. However, this idiot forgot to put sides on it as well as to make the front lower so it’d be easier to put up. I tied yarn around it and made a tassel/bow in front. Instead of taping the yarn for extra security, I taped it with contact paper, rather than regular tape. That looks cool. Tom helped me get it up. It does look a lot nicer than that black bag I made.

I’m gonna try to get ahold of Larry on Sunday. That’ll give him the weekend to check out the edits.

Tom got me two new puzzle books today, as I’ll be done soon with the one I’ve got and still have to wait a month or so for the ones in the mail.

We also got soap refills of bubble gum and watermelon.

He picked out Dad’s birthday card which we’ll mail out tomorrow. I’ll be calling him on the 5th.

I finished typing 88, the second storybook. Tom has a total of 50 pages to read tomorrow.

Earlier we revised our list of stuff to do, make, and get.

Tom said he can find and download the sign fonts on AOL easily. He’ll also put Alex in my AOL “address book.”

THURSDAY, MARCH 30, 1995 Boy, am I both shocked and proud of myself! Yesterday I slept longer than life itself. Over 12 hours when I usually sleep 6-9. I was afraid I’d fuck my schedule up as much as I’m dying to get these bandages off and I will one way or another. I fell asleep last night from 3 AM - 6 AM and have been up since. I do intend to easily conk out, though, within the next few hours.

Got a Bob letter today.

I may have forgotten to say that I mentioned to Kim about my not hearing from Alex. When they recently ran into each other she thought he might have said something about going away for a while. Out of state for some kind of soccer competition.

If I had a million bucks I could bet it on the fact that Jenny C will also be hearing those edits. She’ll certainly have mixed emotions about them. It’ll bring back unwanted memories of me harassing her with some of them. She’ll probably also find them funny.

Due to my being married now, there are an awful lot of people between his family and mine. In his family, they don’t give presents for birthdays, anniversaries and stuff like that. Only for Christmas and only the parents give their kids presents. Therefore, I asked Tammy if we could do only cards for each other’s birthdays and anniversaries, but send whatever for Chanukah. She said that’d be fine. I mentioned this to my parents and I’m sure there’ll be no problem.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 29, 1995 Been busy with typing and stuff like that lately. I typed up 87 and I hope to get 88 done the day after tomorrow. Believe it or not, I’m gonna let Tom read what I’ve got typed up of my story so far. I’ve come quite a way since last April 13th when I began typing up all these journals.

Kim called earlier. Things are still great with this guy Doug who she’s been with for about a month now, I guess. He’s got our same sense of humor, naturally, otherwise she wouldn’t be with him.

He’s got a PO Box in CT where he’s from down in Vernon. He doesn’t know I live here, so as a joke I’m gonna mail him a wacky letter. Kim says she’ll certainly hear all about it.

Amazingly, Minnie’s been in touch with her. She’s thinking of taking her to see Bob, as they both want to. Especially Minnie who hasn’t seen him since he went into Walpole. That was before Concord and where he is now in Gardner.

We did some yard work around here today and we got the backyard looking a hell of a lot better.

I never paid attention before to notice, but Tom showed me that on the canister vacuum, you can also make it a blower if you move the hose to another hole. It’s not the most powerful thing, but it’s good enough. I blew off the cement around the pool as well as the patio.

A couple of nights ago at 9:30 ET, I called Larry. He was out, but Jenny answered. I spoke to her and Sandy. I let her know I was sending Larry something very wacky that wouldn’t make any sense. He’ll probably figure it out, though. I’m sending a tape of some edits. I’m sure he’ll be cracking up like crazy. He too has a weird sense of humor. Sandy will probably get a kick out of it, too. He should have it Friday. Also, Sandy told me Larry loves to get letters from me and that the last one was great. That’s cool to know.

What am I forgetting to mention now? I don’t know, but I’ll be back if I think of anything else.

Later…

I typed up Doug’s crazy letter for Kim which will go out tomorrow. He’ll probably get it Monday.

I forgot to mention that the kids next door have been a million times quieter. I am truly shocked. I just don’t believe it! I don’t know how long it’ll last, but it’s been great. I love it and I wish I sent that letter to them a long time ago. With them quieter, with not hearing their dog hardly ever, and with the music across the street long gone, it’s been wonderful. The most peaceful place I’ve ever lived. Also, this fan is a true gift from God that I could never and would never sleep without. Again it makes me wonder if I really want to fuck it all up with a baby. After it took so long to gain all this peace, little by little. Well, I still don’t think having a kid is in the cards with or without him cumming, so that’s the least of my worries.

Anyway, I believe I’ll go do some word puzzles for now. Did I mention that I sent Bob about 100 puzzles in a manila envelope? Yup, I did. He’ll be very pleased.

Wow, I just realized something. This journal should stretch to at least April 1st. That’ll make it the longest-running journal in quite a while. Lastly, I only have 2½ and a half more tapes to edit. That’s definitely it for now, but I’m sure that as soon as I put this book down, I’ll remember something else.

Later…

Yup, I did. It’s about Tammy. She told me something I wasn’t at all surprised to hear. Lisa and Jenny had made plans to get together, but Jenny’s been stalling, I guess. Tammy finally said that she told Lisa, “Hey, you called there twice. If they really want to, they’ll call you back.”

This is exactly what I thought would happen, though. Tammy says she hasn’t heard from Larry since he was there. I could see that he came here cuz he wanted to, but he went there only to make Mom and Dad happy. Especially dad. I really don’t think Tammy or Larry should even bother with one another, either over the phone or in person. It’s just not in Larry’s heart and Tammy only gets upset.

Anyway, I really wish to hell I could be there to see his reaction when he goes to play that edit tape. I wonder how much of it Sandy and the kids will hear? I can’t wait till we talk and to hear what he says about it. Also, about his trip to Tammy’s. I can just imagine what he’ll say about that, even though the only ones that I’ll tell are Tom and Andy.

MONDAY, MARCH 27, 1995 I’m going to be hibernating in my bedroom for a few more hours. This is because we’ve had a cool spell the last 3 days and we’ve already killed the pilots on the wall heaters. I now have the portable one on now in the bedroom. The good news, though, is that it’s supposed to hit 80º today and I don’t think it’ll get this cool again until next winter. The days have been fairly warm. Between 80º - 90º. It’s just that the last few days were only 70º - 75º and it got chilly at night. With Arizona being so dry, the 50s here feel much cooler than the 50s in MA.

Goldie called yesterday. I spoke to both her and Al and Tom talked to Goldie. They’re doing fine and are very happy about my surgery going a hell of a lot better than last time and that it’s pretty much over. All I have to deal with now are a few follow-ups and I can’t fucking wait to get this bandage off. It’s not that it’s painful or even that uncomfortable, it’s just itchy here and there. My arm’s itchy, too. If my scalp itches, I can’t scratch it for the most part as 80% of my scalp is covered.

Did I yet mention that Tom got his hair cut about a week ago? Although I like his hair longer better, it really doesn’t look bad at all. I was thinking he may end up looking rather geeky.

He tried to “shock” his system the other day. I had told him how I was almost starving myself for 3 days or so back in Sept. of ‘85 to lose weight. I told him how after trying so many hopeless and useless things, I had discovered the key to weight loss was in your metabolism. I stopped counting calories and believing it was what I ate as well as how much. I told him it takes several tries. I sure as hell had to try a million times before I could muster up enough will to eat only a few bites, drink liquids, and take vitamins. Especially when I did this at the time I was working at the Harley Hotel in Enfield, CT with all that free delicious food for lunch.

Anyway, I’m bigger than I have been in a while and am sick of the bulk of my favorite clothes being too tight, so I’m gonna “shock” my system for a couple of days or so. The thing of it is, though, believe it or not, it’s sometimes easier to lose and keep off a lot of weight than it is to do so with 5-10 pounds. What the scale says, though, is irrelevant; it’s what the measurements say. Mine could afford to drop 2-3 inches. Tom, who tells me I look fine, says I’m already too light to lose more weight. I can only tone and try to change my shape and the answer to that is exercise. Perhaps he’s right. However, we can’t change our shapes. We can only control it and alter it a bit, but I cannot exercise now anyway. My upper body is still firm, but my lower could definitely use some tightening up.

I suppose most people would tell themselves not to bother if they’re gonna try getting pregnant in the next few months, but you know I can’t believe, think, or live that way. I work with and make do with what’s happening today and I don’t count on nothing. Especially something as incredible as my getting pregnant. Incredible seeming, that is.

I was going to try to coax back my sixth sense, but it just has never been the same since being out here. Who knows if it’ll ever be like it used to be in the future? Especially when I never asked for it in the first place. Perhaps I’ll always have a little more of it than the average person, though. In my opinion, it was my compensation for getting here and getting what I’ve gotten here. If I’m right, then that’s a fine trade-off as far as I’m concerned. Something far more important could’ve been taken away from me instead. The sense of me getting pregnant in April and in the next journal is dwindling. It’s slowly fading, but June is, well, I’m not so sure yet. Regardless of whether or not I’m sterile, I still say that if Tom doesn’t cum by mid-late June or so, he never will. He still continues to talk more sure of and positive about a baby and has always, and still is dropping hints about getting pregnant in June. Well, since I’ve known him he’s been 98% right about lots of things, so we’ll have to wait and see.

There’s still a small part of me that cringes with fear and doubt over the thought of a kid. I wish I could know for sure just how it’d be for both of us. Well, I do believe strongly enough that whatever’s up there has no plans for me to die in the next 10-15 years, so if it truly is a death sentence for me, then it will make sure I’m sterile or that he never ever cums. If I have one and it kills me, then so much for that 10-15 year feeling of life. If I still have one and am miserable or it ruins our marriage, then maybe it wants me cursed and miserable again. I’ll have no idea until and if anything happens. At least all-out suffering and misery are what I feel is the least likely. Otherwise, I’d never have gotten to Arizona. Or if I did, my life here would’ve been made as shitty as in S. Deerfield or even Norwich.

SUNDAY, MARCH 26, 1995 I’m in quite a good mood today. The only negative things I’m feeling are my ear and arm itching. Also, I have to take Ibuprofen every day till I get these bandages off and can let my hair down. With the weight of my hair having to be up all the time, that does cause headaches. It’s not that long anymore; it’s cuz of its thickness. Having these bandages on for two weeks may make it grow a bit faster.

Tom helped me (cuz I’m such a lousy counter) to mark the week before my period so I remember to take water pills before it’s too late and I get so uncomfortable. I did April and May and when I began to do June he was like, oh, no, no, don’t jump ahead. Another hint about his liking the idea of me getting pregnant in June. Whatever month, I’ll still have to see it to believe it, cuz that’s just how I am over some things.

We screwed earlier which was fun. I came, but not surprisingly, he didn’t.

I did some housecleaning today. I dusted and vacuumed. Tom got this really good and powerful all-purpose cleaner. I cleaned the grease stains off the kitchen walls. Tomorrow I’ll do the bathroom and kitchen cabinets. Also, the laundry.

I finished typing 69 and currently only have 5 more regular journals to type up. However, I’m gonna take a break from typing journals to type up my story.

Sadly, the fluorescent bulb we got to use in the back room by the computer is defective. We tossed out its receipt and warranty, so we’ll have to get another one. They’re about 15 bucks, but they last for 6-7 years or so.

FRIDAY, MARCH 24, 1995 Damn, I haven’t done a #2 since the day before the surgery. Is it gonna be like the last time? I hope to hell I’m not constipated for a week like before, then have the runs and massive stomach pains.

I made another bracelet out of macramé. I’m starving and am now making a TV dinner.

I’m surprised Andy hasn’t called yet. Bob really gets on my nerves here and there, but I’ll discuss it after I eat.

Later…

I told Bob not to write little messages or poems on his envelopes. They’re really quite embarrassing and it’s no one else’s business what he’s got to tell me. He said he wouldn’t, but the stupid ass goes and does it twice. He just doesn’t get it and he’s just getting to be more and more boring, corny, with the same old shit to say. I’m thinking of dumping him more and more these days.

I’ve sent him a few word-find puzzles I don’t really like and he likes them a lot. In a manila envelope, I’m gonna send a few I keep with a certain type of print I don’t really care for, and a letter giving him a piece of my mind for the last time.

It’s hard to keep my mouth shut about my desires and fears of having a child. At the same time, though, I don’t want Tom to feel pressured. Why do I still want something I probably can’t have? Especially something that could very well kill me and our marriage. Something I couldn’t handle physically and mentally. Me and others thought I could never handle a relationship, but what if Tammy’s right and my worst fears of having a kid do come true? It seems like it should be much easier for me to never have a child and I’m sure that’s true, but it sure doesn’t always feel easier. I really hope that if I am sterile and if Tom never cums that the definite and potential negatives to having a kid will be enough to drive that desire away.

For about the 8th time I prayed to God to allow me to become pregnant as soon as can be and let us be the best parents we can possibly be and still have a wonderful marriage. If it’s not in my cards, please allow me to deal with and accept it better and help me through that.

I told Tom yesterday that my feeling of conceiving in April was fading, but June was a little stronger as far as a feeling about that. His reaction didn’t surprise me due to comments he’s made in the past. He said June was a good month to get pregnant cuz it’s cooler by the time you’re big. And something about being married at least a year before getting pregnant and it being born in 1996.

Anyway, there are 3 things I have a hard time believing him about. In all other areas, he’s always been 100% honest as far as I’m concerned and could always see and sense. Again those 3 things are:

How he claims Kim and all of us woke him up.

He’s always gonna be cumming “real soon” or “any time now” (I believe him when he says he always gets close by how hard he gets). Then he slows down and pulls himself out as if to keep from cumming. I’m not a guy, but I don’t know for sure, as weird as this sounds. He says he cums by going really slow so he can feel every movement thoroughly and really take in the feeling.

He says I’ll be pregnant soon and soon in his book he says means anywhere from now to 6 months with 2 or 3 being more likely. I don’t know about this cuz first he said I’d probably have one in November, then that became December.

After a cigarette, I’ll discuss my two worst fears, although they are thankfully doubtful.

Later…

I’ve finally been blessed with being able to take a normal shit. A small one, though, so I know I need to catch up.

Anyway, about these fears that are doubtful. I mentioned before my fear of Tom not really wanting a kid, but just saying he does to make me happy. When we first met he did say he could live with or without a kid and would agree to have one if his wife (not knowing I’d be his wife at the time) wanted one.

He’s expressed more of a desire to as time’s gone on, but from oh, say, when we met till up to 4-5 months ago, he’s said comments suggesting it’s not what he wants. Comments like: Jodi, you’re not going to have a child. I like things the way they are. I don’t know if it’s what I want. I’m so busy, I don’t know if I want the responsibility. I never sensed you’d have kids. I don’t think it’s what you really want. Not everyone in the world can have kids, etc.

I believe he’s trying to get me to be more patient by putting off stuff, even though I tell him I consider it eager, ambitious and motivated, but how do I know for sure that some other woman or person didn’t really hurt him in ways he’s never said? Like promised him something they never gave him and he wants to “even the score?” I highly doubt this, but that’d be nearly as bad as being sterile for sure or him never cumming if he’s planning on always and knowingly doing all he can do to keep me from getting pregnant. I would be very resentful if I ever found out for sure or got highly suspicious of him trying to keep us forever childless. It’d be bad and unfortunate if he said he didn’t want one or if I am sterile, but that’s very different than having someone knowingly and intentionally playing around with a serious issue with you and your head. Well, I’m still 99.9% sure he’s not a Scott M so that’s good.

Can’t wait till I get these bandages removed on April 4th. They’re not nearly as uncomfortable as the ones in Boston, but it’s not heaven, either. I do have some itches here and there.

I took the small wimpy headphones that go to the Walkman to use in my box. With these, I can adjust it so the left side is in the back of my head away from that ear while the good side is right on my ear. I can’t do that with my big kick-ass ones. They sound lousy, but it’ll do for now. Tom doesn’t mind if I play the box while he sleeps cuz he is a heavy sleeper, but occasionally I do like headphones anyway. I only like to blast it in the daytime. You see, I couldn’t give a shit or care less if I woke them up next door at 3 AM. I just don’t want to disturb any other people around here that never have been rude and disrespectful to my peace and quiet. I suppose, though, I should forget about others and just live my own life as everyone else does. People go about their business, doing whatever it is they do at all hours of the morning, afternoon, evening, and very late at night.

I sure wrote way more than I expected to tonight, but I really enjoyed it. It’s great to write out new things as well as stuff I’ve mentioned a million times over and get it all out. Tom has never ever discouraged me from talking to him. It’s just that I don’t want him to feel pressured or burdened and he isn’t here and awake 24 hours a day.

THURSDAY, MARCH 23, 1995 I said to Tom that I thought this would be the last story I write. He disagreed, so we’ll see. He’s almost always right.

As far as him being right about my being pregnant soon? I just can’t see it. He still insists he’s not holding back, as far as his not cumming. Whether he really is or not, I just can’t see him magically cumming one day soon or ever, after not doing so with me for so long.

I’ve heard different stories as far as the odds of conceiving without the guy cumming. Some say it’s one in millions. Others say one’s bound to make it up there eventually, but will just take longer.

Since I’ve known Tom he’s been 100% honest with me except for two things as far as I’m concerned. About Kim, Phil, Alex and I waking him up, and also when he says he isn’t holding back. I once made the comment to him that he could cum whenever he wanted to. He said he agreed. There have also been other statements made that tells me he’s holding back, too. I really do believe his desire to have a kid, though, so my first guess is that he was holding out till now till about June.

The second theory is that deep down he really doesn’t want one and is just a damn good actor. A better actor than I could ever have imagined. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens by the end of June. If I’m not pregnant by July or so, then I’m really gonna put some very serious thought into a hysterectomy. Cuz at that point whether I wanted a kid or not, was sterile or not, what will be the point of dealing with periods till I’m in my 50s?

He’s been acting like things will change, saying all we want is right there ready to be taken and had, but we’ll see. He’s been saying he was gonna cum every month since we began having sex. The bottom line is that we’ll still love each other just as much with no kid. Probably more so, cuz we won’t have it to take our time away from each other and fight over it.

The only thing I’d be disappointed about is if he never admitted he was holding back or did have something wrong with him should many more months go by before I got pregnant or if I never did. More so if he blamed me for it after he says it’s not my fault. Believe me, I haven’t blamed myself in a very long time, cuz I know he can cum by me as easily as I can by him. I also think he may enjoy the feeling of a hard-on more so than of an orgasm. This is weird and would drive me crazy with the frustration of needing to be relieved but to each their own.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 22, 1995 Tom bought me 3 of my favorite pens today in black, blue and red, so I thought I’d start off with the black one.

As I said before, God doesn’t have great timing with everyone’s life events, otherwise teenagers wouldn’t get pregnant, but he sure does with me. My period held off till last night.

They weighed me as 102 in the hospital, but I’m sure I’m now 98-100. The first time I was operated on last December, I weighed 104.

I still haven’t had to take a pain pill. I’ve been up and about as usual. The only thing I can’t do is wear my headphones, so I just sit by the boom box as the last time.

Again it scares me and pisses me off to think - what if I never met Tom? Would Medicaid or Medicare have done a damn thing about my needing to take care of this?

No.

Mom and Dad called about an hour ago. Dad started off really loud saying, “Jodi Lin! Can you hear me?”

I told him how easy this one went and they thanked Tom for calling them yesterday at the hospital. He called Tammy, too. I tried to call her but got no answer. Things aren’t going well with Bill, Tammy told Tom.

Later…

Andy and I left messages for each other yesterday. He’s doing fine.

Tom also got me a couple of word find magazines and soon I’ll be getting them by mail. Every 3 weeks, 17 a year for $16.25.

I finally have all the journals that I’ve typed up on the computer on the main hard drive (C drive).

TUESDAY, MARCH 21, 1995 Back again after doing some editing.

I ate for the last time at 11:45. I did the dishes, polished my disgusting-looking nails, and made up a bag with extra clothes in case of an emergency.

Got a letter from Bob today. Nothing’s new with him.

Guess who else is having surgery today? Andy. Yup, he’s having a root canal done. At least I think that’s what it is. Anyway, he won’t be put out; just given Novocain like I was when I had my wisdom teeth pulled. He’s having all 4 of his wisdom teeth pulled.

Later…

I just got off the phone with Andy who’s quite nervous about his appointment tomorrow. We laughed about all kinds of things which helped to keep our minds off our surgery for a while. He called Karson, who only knows me as Mystery. She and Andy have never met in person, but Andy sure was right about one thing. This 22-year-old naïve girl is one fucked up puppy. She’s a total combination of Fran, Nervous, and Ellie. I read bits and pieces of an old journal and she totally believed everything I said. You can be so abusive to her and call her every name in the book. When I said she had a warrant out for her arrest she completely believed it and even called the police dept. to ask.

The 3 of us definitely have to talk more and I’m gonna record it. She’s great editing material. Andy says she’s home and up all the time and with her around, he never feels the need or urge to make prank calls.

Did I mention the letter I got two days ago from Larry? It shocked the shit out of me. I certainly never expected it. They just got a new computer, so that’s why. He said it’s because he hates writing. It was done on one piece of paper with an advertisement on it for Alpo cat food. He used 4 or 5 different fonts which we also have. He put in a funny joke which reminds me - sometime I’ll have to write down all the jokes I know. It’d be nice to have them all grouped together. He also wrote how when he was at Tammy’s he went to the bathroom, made coffee, and jogged around the block and she was still talking!

Ha, ha, get it?

So, I wrote back that I called her, put the phone down, gave Tom a long kiss, went for a swim, out cruising with Andy, came back and she was still talking! Tom thought it was pretty funny.

Alex must’ve broken up with Chrissy cuz I haven’t gotten any email from him lately.

Gotta go pee, then when I return I’ll mention a new type of journal I may get soon.

Later…

Oh, fuck! I’m really pissed cuz I am soooo damn hungry. I’ll just have to drink a real lot soon and hope that’ll help.

I did do some editing as I was gonna say earlier before Andy called, but I’d like to save the rest for when I’m once again hearing out of two ears.

When I was last out buying journals, I saw some that were about double the size of this one. I’ve seen them several times. Well, it may look funny on my shelves with all the others, but I’d like to get one. Its cover may be just like one of my marble covers, but oh well if it’s like one I already have cuz these sizes aren’t as common as this book I’m writing in. It’ll take quite a while to go through, but I want it for the sake of something different.

I have no regrets about recopying and ditching those 4 small ones I once had, though. Those go way too fast and are a real bitch to write in.

I hear Tom snoring a lot less, so I hope his new contour pillow really does help him.

Later…

Yay!!! It’s over!!! Boy, was this operation a piece of cake compared to the last one. I mean, the difference between this operation and the last one is the difference between night and day. The only thing that was a bitch was the waiting time. They drew blood there, cuz I didn’t have it drawn before. Waking up was easier than I thought it’d be, just as Tom said.

I do have bandages all over my head as I had in Boston, but the good news is that they don’t go under my neck. That was incredibly itchy. He had to do that, though, since there’s no frame to tape bandages to.

I can only imagine how hideous it must look, but I needed that frame taken out. Thank God it’s gone!

Tom got prescription painkillers and can you believe I haven’t had to take even one of them?! My ear and skin graft on my arm are virtually painless. It’s nice to be able to move my jaw to talk and eat since he didn’t have to take any muscle from it. Also, no strap so tight it feels like my skull’s gonna burst.

Before surgery, I told Dr. Nielsen to send my frame to Boston. He said, “Oh, I’d like to do that and tell them to bury it in their graveyard.”

I never saw Dr. Joganic.

Tom called Mom, Dad, and Tammy.

I’ve got more to say, but I’ll be writing on and off as things come to me.

MONDAY, MARCH 20, 1995 Well, it’s the eve of my surgery. I’m gonna be rather brief cuz I want to do some editing since I can’t for a while.

I slept from 7 AM - 11 AM and was very, very tired when Tom got me up. After my noon appointment with Dr. Nielsen, I came home and went right back to bed and slept from 2 PM - 6 PM. The appointment took forever cuz I was exhausted. If I had been awake, it would’ve gone real quick. The anesthesiologist called tonight wanting general information. It’s a male this time. This time around I was told that I can drink liquids after midnight, but I can’t eat.

Well, there’s more I could write about, but I think I’ll save it for later or after the surgery.

SUNDAY, MARCH 19, 1995 Today I slept from around 10 AM - 4 PM. Tomorrow’s my noon pre-op appointment. I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna have the strength to get there, but Tom confidently said there’d be no problem. He’s always right, thank God.

I finished one of the teddy bear puzzles yesterday. Then, I flipped it over, put duct tape on the back of it, and hung it on the wall. I want to do the same thing with the other teddy bear one which I’m halfway through with but don’t know how I’m gonna flip this one as easily cuz the pieces aren’t quite as tight.

FRIDAY, MARCH 17, 1995 Yesterday Tom showed me how to index disks in numerical order on the computer. It was really easy and I did 207 of them. About 20 of them crashed and I had to reset the computer cuz they were old, low-density disks.

Last night Andy and I went to the mountain for an hour and a half. On our way back we stopped at a drive-through and he treated me to an order of fries.

I brought him his taxes which Tom did yesterday. He asked what he should do for Tom. I know he can’t really afford to give him $20 as he suggested to him over the phone, so I suggested a thank you card. He can write some of our famous wacky lines, too. He also told me he has some friends who would really love the edits, so I gave him 10 tapes of one of the sets of backups. We played a few last night in his car. He says he’s gonna go through all of them just in case there’s anything he doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

As of yesterday, he’s been here for 4 years. I’m next on June 9th with my third anniversary.

All’s fine with Tom and me. There are only two things I wish Tom would improve on. I wish he wouldn’t be such a procrastinator. I wish he’d follow through with the projects he gets started on. Yesterday he said he was gonna strip the two chairs outside. He began one of them, but I know he’s gonna take forever to do them.

I also wish he’d pick up after himself a little more. One thing’s for sure and that is that I’m not straightening up the back room anymore, cuz he just turns right around and trashes it.

Later…

I talked with Tom who kindly straightened up the papers on the desk we both use.

Apparently, he flew out of here in a hurry cuz AMEX was jerking him around as far as his check goes. They were supposed to direct deposit it. Instead, they sent it to the Crystal Creek Apts.

Yesterday I got another library book that should be similar to the one I just finished.

We screwed around earlier. With no KY jelly, he was able to get in there quickly and easily with no pain or discomfort felt by me. I sure have “come” a long way. It felt like he was close to cumming. That’s what he said, but he always says that.

He seems to want a kid more and more, and more than once he said, “You’ll be pregnant soon.” I still have to see this to believe it, but right now my feeling is that if he doesn’t cum within a month after the surgery or so, then he definitely never will. What will I think then if that is the case? That he really wasn’t serious about a kid or he’s got a problem he just won’t own up to. I know how sensitive he can be at times.

Next door, amazingly, has been quieter. See? I knew there was no excuse for the way they could get at times and that those kids were controllable.

I made Tom a macramé bracelet in blue and white. I’m making some for me, using a few different color combinations. I have a double-stranded one. One side has black, maroon, purple, pink and white. The other has yellow, orange, red, green and blue.

I’m typing up 68 now and that’ll be done either tonight or tomorrow. Chow for now.

TUESDAY, MARCH 14, 1995 Boy, have we been busy these last few days. Things have been great, though.

It’s been very quiet next door. If it’s a coincidence or not, it remains to be seen.

Tammy left a message earlier saying that Bill’s responding well to his treatment so far.

I finished my library book two days ago. It was a good horror story.

Later…

I’ve done a lot so far with my remixing the edit tapes. I took my old tape recorder that allows me to fast forward/rewind with the play button down and I typed the edits on 3 different tapes. I did this cuz I had some of the same edits on a couple of tapes. It was really wild and cool to see my edits printed out so nicely. In fact, when I’m done remixing all of them, I may print them all out. It’ll be so cool to have every single edit printed out.

Also, when I was screening through tapes and I came upon some edits I thought I may have already typed up that were already on another tape, I could use the search thing on the computer. You type in the sentence or a few words of it and it’ll find it for you by highlighting it.

After I get done remixing and cutting down all my edits cuz they’re too long, I should have about 3 or 4 90-min. tapes. I no longer wish to use other people’s tapes. I’ll also have two sets of backups. I put a copy (10 tapes) in the living room table’s drawer and the other one (6 tapes) will stay with all my other tapes. I’ve already cut two tapes and I have 5 more to cut, but it doesn’t take as long as I thought it’d all take to do. Not that it really mattered anyway.

Later I’ll write in all my file names, excluding journals and drawings. I sure do have a lot of them at this time. Lots of them are stuff I’ve typed up for Tom, too. I have a few hundred files in my directory.

I put the glow-in-the-dark stickers I got from my TV dinner inside the front cover of this book. They don’t stick very well, though, so who knows how long they’ll last?

Andy left me a message the other day and told me to listen to his second message. It was from Donna. She’s also from Springfield, and Fran had her grandmother’s number which he’d constantly call while she was visiting there a couple of summers ago. Well, he’s been calling there again and Andy wanted my advice on the situation. All I could say was for her to either change her number or just hang up on him. He’s bound to try calling here and there, just as he’ll probably try here again someday. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s trying to look up and call all those with my maiden name in the Springfield area, but I don’t give a shit if he does.

I sure do have a lot of files on the computer. About a few hundred. There are lots of files I’ve typed up for Tom, too. I learned how to change the name of a file.

Now for what we got when we went out shopping today. Well, our tax return check came today for $330, so we decided to pick up a few things we wanted and needed. This is my first tax return since ‘86 and it was neat to see that it was sent from San Francisco, rather than from Boston.

Tom got one of those contour pillows, designed to support your neck and most importantly decrease snoring.

He looked around in computer stores, but couldn’t find anything too interesting or affordable.

He wants to get this thing that’s kind of like a chest tripod where you can rest and support a camcorder on your chest while filming. It’d be easier to carry it around too, around his neck, rather than to carry it even though it’s not too big.

We’re also gonna look for a new car windshield shade sometime, as well as more binders and computer paper that’s more stylish.

I didn’t find any word search puzzle books today, but I sure found where to get figurines. A store called Michael’s has lots of really nice ones. While I was there, though, I got some more silk flowers.

At the Old America art store, I got my second dog mug, an Irish Setter.

We went to a bookstore that we’d never been in before and they had a pretty decent journal selection. I got two of them and now I have a total of 91.

We went to a buffet for lunch and to Walmart where we got several things. An awesome fluorescent light for by the computer that doesn’t give off heat. The light is so much more natural too, and this bulb will last for years. We’re going to replace all our lights with bulbs like that.

I got two new pairs of French-cut silk-like panties. One’s purple and the other’s maroon. I ditched two more pairs that didn’t fit or that were old and worn out. I got a package of suede barrettes in different colors like blue, black, white, yellow, red, purple, pink, and sea green. I got 3 new headbands. I had plastic ones, but they could dig into me and get uncomfortable so I got cloth-covered ones in black, white, and purple. I got red nail polish, and lastly, two new 500-piece puzzles. They’re quite cute too. They’re teddy bears. One’s with two teddy bears at a picnic with bowls of strawberries. The other has lace and flowers surrounding them. Later I’ll write an idea I had for the puzzles as well as for flower arranging.

So much for Tom not snoring with this new pillow. I can hear him now.

SATURDAY, MARCH 11, 1995 I have only one more chapter in my library book.

We had a storm today, but it wasn’t much of a big deal. It’s still windy out and a bit chilly, but it’s not raining. Still, I doubt there’ll be any street parties today.

I haven’t heard much from next door, but last night at 10 PM as I was falling asleep, he started to get weird on me with that van over there. He came in at 10:00, shut the van off, got out, then came back and turned it on again. After 2-3 minutes of it running, I figured why bother to wait and see if he let it run for a half-hour or so, so I turned my fan up from medium to high.

Last night I thought I was coming down with a cold. I was sneezing and had a sore throat. Luckily it was only allergies, cuz when I got up I was perfectly fine.

Tom’s working on the cigarette machine now.

We screwed earlier. He wants to screw more and more and he really does want a kid from what he tells me. Oh, Tom. You’re gonna have to cum, though. You’re just gonna have to cum. If that’s what you really want, you’re gonna have to cum.

I began a major project today. It should not take too long to do, but I’m re-editing my 8 edit tapes. There are too many reps on each edit. It gets boring, as funny as they are when they’re each too long. Anyway, I’ve begun to go through and cut them shorter. So far, one whole side of a 90-minute tape has been cut to half a side of a 90-min.

FRIDAY, MARCH 10, 1995 I just finished typing/printing journal 67. I also typed the letter I got yesterday from Kim. Later on today, I may begin letters to Kim, Bob, and my parents.

Can you believe I did not wake up till 5 AM? Yesterday I was up for nearly 20 hours. I never even woke up to go to the bathroom. I weigh 98 pounds too, surprisingly.

When I was writing all about our trip to Vegas and our wedding, I noticed I forgot to mention something. A few days before we were to leave for Vegas, we got rings. His is a size 10 which they had available for him that day. The closest size they had that’d fit me at the time was a 6. They could not get my size before we left, so I had to get it when we came back. At first, I thought a 4¼ would fit just fine, but I had to end up getting a 4½.

Andy hopes to be able to pick up his VCR today. I’m gonna tape his soaps for him again today, for the third day.

I’m not sure if I mentioned this or not, but I rearranged the bedroom walls. You know those plastic-covered pieces of cardboard you stick pictures into photo albums? Well, I took about 9 of them, tore the plastic off and taped pictures onto them. Then, I taped that onto the walls. I did this to protect the pictures and make it easier for me to rearrange them. It’s easier to remove a sturdy piece of cardboard off the walls than the actual pictures themselves which rip a lot easier.

Later…

I thought I heard something from next door yesterday, but couldn’t be too sure cuz I had the fan on. I asked Tom if he heard any wild street parties and he said he only heard them out front for an instant. That was in the late afternoon. It’s a bit chilly till then, but as soon as that sun’s raced around to the front, they race out there. A month from now when it’s warm all day is when I usually hear them on and off all day and they move to the back. If I’m right in my theory about them not giving a shit, then it’s gonna be really fucking noisy out front from about 3:00 - 6:00. It’s to be 80º today.

Later…

Tom’s home now and he’s on the phone now talking with Eldon.

Today was his last day at AMEX. He found out today he’s eligible for unemployment.

Amazingly enough, when he came home, shortly after noon, he said he saw the woman next door leaving. He couldn’t tell if anyone else was with her or not. I can almost bet you that the reason she left, though, was to go to her GYN for her fucking 6th kid that’s on its way, no doubt.

Later…

They just came back next door, but I got a few hours till party time.

It’s hot out there now and I’ve got the EC on now bringing in the fresh air.

Tom and I were just talking about how things were going great now and how we’re in a great position to start the business and have a kid. He’s gonna be sleeping with me more often to make that easier and more possible.

THURSDAY, MARCH 9, 1995 Yesterday they should’ve gotten my letter. They didn’t call or come running over about it, which I’m not surprised about. It’s been peaceful for nearly a week, but I will be surprised if it stays that way. Anyway, they’re quiet a little more than half of the time. Hopefully, it’ll be almost all of the time from now on.

Yesterday I finished my third book on my current story (89). For now, I’ll keep on typing up and printing out story drafts like I normally do but will copy it in when I get a new journal for it which will be 90.

Later…

I am sitting outside now. Boy, is this journal bright in the sunlight! I came out here cuz I couldn’t fall asleep yet. I got up last night at 12:30, so in a few hours, I oughta be asleep.

It’s that time of year now when I have to keep checking the pool which I’m right by for bees. At least they’re not here every other second yet. Not till it gets really hot.

It’s a beautiful day today. Around 75º. The sun’s warm, but it’s breezy. It’s supposed to be in the mid-upper 70s through till Mon. We’re in for some showers and T-storms this weekend too, I hear.

Not a peep from next door, but at this time of year, it’s still a bit early for them. This weekend will be more of a true test. I just may not be awake to test most of the day. At this point, I don’t think they give a shit till and if I see differently. That time I told Dean that I was sorry for going off on his wife when they were moving in, he said he understood. Well, if he understood, then why was it such a circus over there for several more days after I gave a piece of my mind?

That black and white cat I call Oreo just crossed through the yard.

God, it’s getting hot now. I better go in.

TUESDAY, MARCH 7, 1995 I just talked to Andy a little while ago. He sent me an 8-page letter he got last September from his part-time boyfriend in Tucson. He also sent some Gloria pictures and two articles about thousands of prank calls made in Japan. Lastly, he sent 3 pictures. One of him here in Arizona, one of his old apartment building on Belmont Ave. back east, and one of my old apartment building on Woodside Terrace.

Later…

Wow! I actually fell asleep for 2½ hours or so after I last wrote. That’s unusual for me. Especially cuz I slept from about noon yesterday till 9 PM. Once again, maybe something is preparing me to be a day person for something other than the business. For the business, it won’t matter what time I work as long as I get done whatever work needs to be done.

Yesterday while I slept Tom went over to try to fix Andy’s VCR. It’s hopeless, so now I’m stuck taping his shows for a few days. It’s a pain, but I can’t turn a friend down.

Despite Andy’s soaps, there are 3 good movies on tonight. Why is it that there are always so many good things on at once? Well, there are only two VCRs here, not 3, so I’ll have to pick out the two I want to record.

The Gloria pictures he sent are not appealing at all, so I’ll put some in NPN envelopes and mail some to Bob. Bob will probably try to draw them. He sent a letter today with a Gloria drawing. It came out well.

After I show Tom the two prank phone call articles from Tokyo, I’ll probably mail them to Kim.

I saw the interview with Gloria who had 5 male impersonators doing a video for her at the time her baby was due. It was pretty interesting to see, but she looked terrible. Her hair was gross and she looked tired, older, and fatter.

Andy’s letter from Chris will be tossed in an NPN envelope.

When I saw the picture of the old Woodside place, I felt two emotions. First I cringed due to all the painful memories that go with that place. Then I laughed to myself, knowing never ever again will I ever have to live there again or live that kind of a life again! I would take a screaming crying baby to listen to 24 hours a day before I ever lived back east again, alone, or had any part of my old life back again.

Later…

Tom’s at work now and I’m just hanging out doing this and that today.

Tom said he no longer wants to put stuff off that needs to be done, which he said he’d do. That’s cool.

I called Tammy. Bill’s been in the hospital now for two months. She said that last night if she’d had a gun, she would’ve shot herself. Did I ever know that feeling oh so well for so many years?!

I redid my bedroom walls and printed out an updated journal chart.

Today I’m sending the letter next door. They should get it tomorrow. The last few days have been very quiet, but we’ll see how things go in time.

I also finished 66 and am now working on 67.

SUNDAY, MARCH 5, 1995 Yesterday Tom trimmed 3” from my hair. I hated to do it, but it was so dead, and really needed it. Every 6 weeks I’ll have him trim a quarter of an inch.

I’m gonna be mailing them a letter next door. It’s brief and friendly, but blunt. I know them. Their kids are gonna scream up a storm nearly every day till June. Then in the fall it’ll start back up again and die down from November to February. I ain’t putting up with it. It’s that plain and simple. I was here first, not that that should matter when it comes to other people forcing their noise on you. Fair is fair, so I enclosed this number in case my music got loud, but I’m pretty positive they can’t hear it anyway. I told them briefly about my ear, ear surgery, and why certain sounds register differently within me. While they do sound like nice people from what little contact we’ve had, I doubt they give a shit. It’s been obvious enough that they have no respect for those around them, but we’ll see. It’s that time of year where from about 8:30 AM - 7 PM I’ll hear them on and off mostly in the back. If I don’t notice any difference, then I’ll do everything I can think of to go out of my way to be heard over here. I don’t think it’ll make a bit of difference over 5 screaming kids, but I’ll think of something. I feel that if they respond to my request, God will do something else to me, but it’s a chance I’ll take. I just wish I knew what God’s message was in all this. There are only one or two other houses on this street with little kids, so why me? It doesn’t make me want my own any less, but I sure am sick of other people’s kids. My attitude’s still the same - if I’m not gonna hear my own someday, then I don’t want to hear nobody else’s.

Later…

I talked to Andy for quite a while. He said he was going through his stuff and cleaning when he came across a bag with tons of NPN cards I’d given him eons ago. Neither of us cares for or wants them; only envelopes. Then he said he came across 1 NPN envelope that he thought was his and opened it. Instead, it was an old draft of the journal subindex I had begun in ‘92. I did journals 1-22. He said he had hoped I wouldn’t be mad that he read it, I wrote nothing that made me look bad or that I should be embarrassed about, and was totally fascinated by it and how much I write.

I pulled out 16 and read him the note he gave me as he brought me to the airport to go to Florida. This was in late 1989 when I went for my 24th birthday. I also read him the letter I had him write and send to Jenny C. This was after our day in court when he was here and I was living in S. Deerfield.

I wish Tom wasn’t such a procrastinator. He said he was gonna call about stuff we ordered and never got. I can bet you that if I never remind him of it, he’ll never call. He may be busy and not feel well here and there, but there are just too many things he puts off. I really, really believe he’s trying to force patience into me. He denies that, but it does make me wonder. I don’t consider myself impatient, though. Just someone who likes to get stuff done. I also think he’s obsessed with me taking care of stuff he knowingly drops or rearranges. Other than that all is fine.

SATURDAY, MARCH 4, 1995 Yesterday we bombed this place. We left at 5 AM and drove around through PHX, Tempe, and Scottsdale for two hours till we returned at 7 AM. Naturally, we took Piggles with us.

FRIDAY, MARCH 3, 1995 Again, not much has happened. I did finish printing out 64 today. Also, after I worked out I accidentally smashed my can of marshmallow spread all over the kitchen floor.

THURSDAY, MARCH 2, 1995 Not much has happened in the last few days. Today’s appointment went well. The good news is that there should only be about 4 follow-up appointments after surgery, then I won’t have to see him for 6 months to a year.

After all the ear stuff is out of the way. I’ll hardly ever have doctor appointments. Especially since I’ll never have a kid. Knowing I’ll never have a kid is one thing. Accepting it is another. I’m sure I will in time. Once I see that Tom still doesn’t cum after he’s changed jobs, we’re in business, and my ear stuff’s over with, it’ll really sink in. The part about it that I’m grateful for is that if we did have a kid, I know I’ll be missing this life so badly. I don’t understand how I could want to put myself through such shit physically, mentally, and financially, and put our marriage in jeopardy. I’m sure I’ll come to my senses soon enough. There were other things I used to want for quite a while that I no longer want, so my feelings will change for the better if they don’t diminish completely.

Got other things to do, so I’ll write later.

0 notes

anakin-pilled · 2 years ago

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okay im gonna go straight into annotations because i have been waiting all day to get home and read this...it's like a little sweet treat <3 but i know you're not innocent andra you did something bad and im about to find out . PLS IM SO EXCITED AHUEHEHIR

"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."

STARTING OFF STRONG WITH A FLASHBACK OKAY !!!!!!

...it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.

bby i love you and your beautiful mind ): i am always in awe of you because you have such a lovely point of view and its infectious

"I want to know more than this. I will learn, and I will work hard, and I will fight, but Vi, one day, you and me, we'll be free of this. Free to do whatever we want, free to spend our days like the humans in the movies, just happy and ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"

OOOH AND NOW IM CRYING!!! To imagine that some people are in search of more in their life, whether it be status or money, and then there are people who just want the simple things in life ): that is little neteyam ): AND GUESS WHAT HE DESERVES IT. HE DESERVES IT ALL...but just picturing two little kiddos face to face saying the sweetest most earnest promises to each other i am so sad the visual i have in my head ): its the details like that that really set the scene and make the moment even more real

much colder, much wiser,

so much older and wiserrrrrrrr (i have definitely commented this on another chapter or fic of yours--i cant remember which but every time someone says anything remotely similar to a taylor lyric i have to write it down)

...you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove...

THAT WAS A REALLY GOOD LINE BBY

You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate...

O'I'EN IS TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD AND I DEMAND HE FINDS A MATE ANDRA!!!

This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.

Now, I get Vi's anger, I really do. But is it really fair to place all the blame on Neteyam? Like babygirl...YOU ARE NOT INNOCENT!!! but also, we seriously need to sit and strategize at the war table because why is the entire clan getting their ass beat? I know two of their best warriors are down, but we need to talk because I have questions. PLS I SOUND SO LITERAL FOR SOMETHING THAT IS PROBABLY ONLY WRITTEN IN A WAY FOR PLOT PURPOSES. put me in the room jake!!!

A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it...

And this is why we communicate, children. Except the miscommunication trope is so good. SHITS ABOUT TO GO DOWN OOGMGMMOR

“No, we’re not doing this shit anymore. My ikran is dead. People are dead, Neteyam. All because of us, because this stupid war, that you caused. That you started. I’m done with the games, and the mystery, and your stupid mouth staying shut. You don’t know? Figure it out. Now.”

PERIOD TELL HIM OFF BOO 🥰 I can feel the tension omg..and I know Neteyam isn't just going to stand there and take it.

BBY THIS IS SUCH GREAT IMAGERY AND SO CREATIVE. i absolutely love this hyperbole (i hope that's the right word) and i am picturing an actual yarn turning into steel and snapping with a strong recoil like neteyam and vi or like jakes ass

Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."

OOP----YOUR SISTER?!?!??!? Okay, i know you said that no one is to blame and they're both as accountable in this twisted game of theirs. I agree and I think you've made it obvious that they are in a gray area--they're beyond of who started what since they both continued to carry out their hatred and scheming and etc. But damnit i would love to see everyone's opinion and point the finger to one person!!! HAAHAH

You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...

"He wasn't wrong."

ANDRA WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKK JGOIJGOIHNAOERNGONEGJMOLBN I KNOW YOU'RE GOING TO ELABORATE IN THE PRECEDING PARAGRAPHS BUT AHHHHHH also i love the pacing and actual structure your stories. you know exactly when to cut a conversation, or jump back in time or to other scenes, change povs, and leave us hanging more. you literally are evil and chaotic for that and i love it.

...you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.

SHES SADISTIC LMFAOOOOO

“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"

But like....she's valid. Neteyam has a right to feel the way he wants, but honestly he really was a fucking idiot.

“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.”

ANDRA THIS IS LIKE THE FIRST STORY YOU HAVE WRITTEN (and possibly out of any neteyam fic I've read) WHERE I ACTUALLY DO NOT LIKE HIM????? AHHHHH I WANT TO SCREAM AT HIM...okay im dramatic i do like this neteyam but man i cannot wrap my head around his choices. STUPID MAN!!!

You fu-"

Before I could even scroll down, I already knew she was interrupted by a kiss. IS IT ABOUT TO GET SPICY IN HERE??!?!

And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips

These people have issues 💀 I am just so fascinated by their dynamic. It's obviously very passionate and they both love each other under all that hate, BUT HOW DO THEY JUST GO FROM HOW THEY FELT BEFORE TO FUCKING KISSING?!?! i think hate sex is one thing i havent gotten my mind wrapped around yet so i am appalled, but it's also so fucking hot that i dont even want to question to psychology of it?? just let them fuck it out? yeah

"Just...Stop talking."

MY PUSSY THROBBED

You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos.

ANOTHER AMAZING LINE!!!!! it's not a story written by andra if the female main character isn't constantly fighting a battle within herself

When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window...

Scratch what I said before. I would give it up to Neteyam 100% without a doubt even if i hated his guts. He can just wreck mine instead!

"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."

CONSENT IS SO SEXY

...as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.

I didnt know what this meant, so I searched it up, and AHHHHHHHHH

His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size...

HOMEGIRL WAS SO WET SHE DIDNT EVEN NEED FOREPLAY WELL GUESS WHAT??? ME TOO BITCH!!!!!! my pussy would literally be ready for him 24/7. to be fair, they don't have all the time in the world but still it is very hot and sexy

"It had to be someone who had no resemblance to you. It had to, Vi. Don't you understand? Because any time I looked at anyone, I saw you in them. Their eyes, or lips, their tanhì or stripes, even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."

INSTANT ORGASM HEARING THIS!!!!! how do they both crave each other so badly, yet repel at the thought of it to?

But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.

OOF YOU PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATED THEIR RELATIONSHIP WITH THIS!!! i love it so much bby you are so talented how do you even come up with this ): the high is always great, but the fall never it!!!! icarus flew too close to the sun!!!!

“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”

WHAT DO YOU WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!!!!!!!!!! ANDRA YOU ARE CRUEL. but i have to say, what did everyone expect? their relationship and the situation they're in would not be solved with a single confession and quickie ): as much as we would like it to, it's not realistic to ignore the years of pent up anger and hate that has dictated their lives for the past 7 years. Right now, they are toxic for each other an arranged marriage wouldn't solve that. i think they need time to think about themselves and each other AND then they can revisit mating.

YOU DEFINITELY DID SOMETHING BAD.

AHHH ANDRAAAA you never fail to write a good cliffhanger too. im actually on the edge of my seat because how will this end in one chapter? do i smell a sequel I AM ACTUALLY CONFUSED BECAUSE HOW WHAT DO YOU HAVE UP YOUR SLEEVE. pookie this chapter was so good, i loved the build-up throughout the entire series that has led to this moment, and the fall out that is yet to come. THE TRUTH IS OUT, , PEOPLE AND IKRN HAVE DIED, VI WANTS TO STOP THE ARRANGED MARRIAGE? what's the worst that could possibly happen?

i know as a writer you must feel the pressure and anxiety of writing out a new chapter while making sure it meets your expectations and everyone else's too, but you have never failed so far and i love that for you <3 ily pooks thank you for this beautiful chapter and your hard work

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀𝕀: 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: You and Neteyam finally confront each other, after a seven year war that left you broken and bruised.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), smut, strong language.

wc: 7k words

a/n: we're almost at the end, besties. i want to say a massive thank you for being patient with me, i have struggled with writer's block for a while now, and my life is incredibly hectic at the moment, but thank you for continuing to inspire me to write this story that has come to mean so much to me :(. i hope you enjoy this chapter, that i once again somehow feel weirdly insecure about hahaha, and i hope you'll find it was worth the wait. also this is only mildly proof read bc i am exhausted and i need to sleep ;((( i'll come back to it in the morning i promise x (also pls someone comment on the fact in the photo vi's looking up and he's looking down cause you know - rise and fall together and all)

pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tewng - loincloth, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, yawne - beloved

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

I carved my name into your ribcage We talked of lands away from this cage

"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."

Neteyam's head was positioned snugly in your lap as you both stared intently at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes of clouds, and the way they passed you by like birds in the night sky, never to be seen again, just a memento of the present and how every moment was unique and precious, and needed to be cherished. You both loved doing that, in between practice sessions, or before, or after, a way to ground you and remind you there's still beauty in this world outside of what you were being taught, of how everything was in preparation for a grisly reality you both struggled to come to terms with.

"Yes?"

"The little videos we've seen, of the movies and shows Norm and Max and the other humans like to watch... and the books they make us read during English lessons and the music... it doesn't seem that bad, you know? It seems they were happy, and... good. It seemed they lived for more than just fighting and greed, more than this."

You thought about it for a while. He was right. Humans were... beautiful, in their own ways. They had love and heart and soul in a way you never thought possible - it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.

"I want to be more than this, too."

Your eyes snapped from the sky to him, and his eyes met yours, boring into you with a vehemence that almost scared you. When he rose from his spot, he faced you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning over you, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the proximity and the way his smile always managed to take your breath away.

"Yes. I'd like that."

You said, don't fret love, someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free Oh, but darling, did you mean Darling, did you mean free from me?

“O’i’en…” your voice was hoarse and barely there, a croaking whisper you hardly recognised as your own, but still there. You were still here, and at least for that, you were grateful. Because there was more to your life. So much more you wanted to do and see, so much you felt you were made for and deserved, so much you still have to repent and atone for. Your mind was scrambled with visions of your past, so many of them you’ve lost count, the continuous onslaught barely ceasing as you woke, and you still felt like in a liminal state of being, not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. In those dreams, images of your old Neteyam were intertwined with his face now, much colder, much wiser, somehow even more beautiful, and confessions of “I love you” mingled with hushed whispers of “why is she not awake yet?” and commotion beyond your understanding. You needed answers. The battle, that now felt like a lifetime away to you, also somehow felt like it had just finished, and you rose from your spot with only one thought in mind: Oare was hurt. She was shot, and you needed to find her.

You wondered if it was fate, or Eywa's doing, that O'i'en was the first person you ran into, even as you were trying to avoid any semblance of another soul, the guilt and sadness mingling in you with flashes of worst-case scenarios, ones in which your distracted mind led to deaths that you will forever carry on your shoulders, that you will forever blame yourself for, that you were sure other people would, too, ones which you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove, so you settled for ignorance and denial, at least until you found your ikran.

"Oh, Eywa, you're alive!" you were taken aback by his surprise, and by his pure, unadulterated relief and happiness as his eyes found your form, limping and bruised, with bloodied and torn garments and yet still... alive. You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, melting into his all-too-familiar touch that’s always felt comforting and safe, and never bruising or cold.

You sighed as your mind, much as it always did, brought to its forefront another face, another body, another man that never ceased to pull you out of the moment and into whatever fantasy your mind concocted to replace reality with. As you tightened your arms around him, your palms flat against his back, you noticed your fingers being coated in warm liquid, and the feel of it, as well as the smell of metal that hit you immediately after, made you gasp and break the embrace, using whatever force you had to turn him around and inspect the wound you knew had to be bad enough, if so much blood was pouring out of it, but still couldn’t help be shocked when you were proven right.

“Fuck, your back…”

“I know… I haven’t had the chance to go see the healers yet.”

“You haven’t ha- are you serious right now? Come, let’s go now.” You almost forgot about the your plan to avoid people, too concerned for the ugly looking gash pulsating blood that trickled down his toned back, until it soaked in his soiled tewng. He didn’t let you move him, instead taking your wrists in his hand and holding you still.

“You look like you’re about to collapse, how are you still so bossy? Besides… there’s people who need it more than me.” The purple twinge in his cheeks let you know this wasn’t quite the truth. Not the whole truth. O’i’en was the most selfless person you’ve ever met, and yet, this wasn’t the whole truth. You looked tired and broken, scared and forlorn, and yet, with all your might, you tried to contort your face into something you hoped resembled the way Jake would raise the hairs above his eyes in a clearly disapproving expression, and while you lacked the most important aspect of that whole stare, it clearly worked, because he winced and broke the look you shared, choosing a spot on the ground instead.

“After… everything, I just didn’t know if I could…or should… go get help from the Tsa’hik. It feels like everywhere I look, you follow. I knew you were hurt as well, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you like that, or seeing you at all. But now that you’re here, I realise… I’m just happy you’re alive.”

You smiled, a small feat that felt like the hardest task you’ve ever been assigned, but still, you were glad to know there was still something salvageable about your relationship with the man you once thought you’d spent the rest of your life with.

“Come, sit. I’ll clean the wound myself.”

“You shouldn’t-“ He stopped when he noticed your look. You were too tired to be trifled with, and he was smart enough to know that.

You promised home, the kind I'd never known But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong

You worked in silence, as much as you could, the thoughts spiralling in your head, worse with each passing second, and although you didn’t want to ask, you knew you couldn’t avoid it any longer, not when he looked so sad and despondent, not when the gash in his back spoke to a battle fiercer than you wanted to picture, not when you couldn’t help wonder if it was all on you. With a sigh, you spoke, and watched as he went rigid with every word uttered.

“What happened, O’i’en?”

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing. I remember falling… i remember Oare getting shot.” You wince at the memory, at how it was your unsteady, tired, distracted mind that made her a vulnerable target.

“Nothing else.”

O'i'en's whole body stiffened, and your hand stilled midair, shivers pulsating in your body as dread enveloped it.

“What. Happened. O’i’en?”

"After you fell... the battle... took a turn for the worse. A lot of Na'vi died, a lot of our mounts died, too..."

"The Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem tried their best, we all did, but without you and Neteyam..."

The guilt that was big enough to almost crumble you into a mess of sobs and broken shards on the ground dulled just for a moment while his words rang in your ears, echoing until they clicked, until you made sense of their meaning.

"Neteyam...? Where was Neteyam, why wasn't he fighting?"

His body turns to face you again, his barely patched-up wound forgotten in the moment that felt ever-lasting, but not like how time stands still as you're enveloped in a kiss, but like a nightmare you can't escape from, where a moment lasts hours, where every scream is expelled in slow-motion and the monsters get closer and closer with each breath that gets lodged in your dry, hoarse throat.

"He tried to catch you, but couldn't. I think he took you back to the village. He didn't return after. They say..."

"They say he hasn't left your tent since. We've all been working, trying to get everyone back, ready for the funeral, but he... he never left the Tsa'hik's tent."

"You're wrong." What he was saying made no sense. Neteyam has done nothing but wish for your demise ever since you were both nothing more than mere children. His hatred never diminished through time, and neither did yours. You both despised each other more and more each day, with every year passed, with every instance in which neither of you relented or found it in you to be better and take the high road. This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.

“Where are you going? You need to take it easy.”

“I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s ok, she’s probably in pain and suffering and I should be the-“

You stop when you notice his grieving grimace, his eyes fixed on the ground, tears falling at his feet, that you followed from his eyes to their demise as they splattered on the ground, the droplets hitting your ankles in the process.

“No.”

Silence. Dead silence. Death silence. Silence that you couldn’t help fill with a crescendo of denial, louder and higher pitched with every new attempt.

“No, please. Tell me you’re wrong.”

“I saw her… in the lineup.”

“The lineup?”

“Of all the dead… dead animals and na’vi. So many of them, i lost count. She was there… I’m so sorry.”

Your tears mingled with his own as they collapsed on your feet and on the grass, and you forgot for a second of your rule - no crying in front of people. You forgot this as you forgot everything else, even your own name pushed from your memory as it was flooded instead with images of her, of your sister, that you loved so much, that you cherished deeply, that you thought you’d be able to for the rest of your life, that you were now told was gone, taken from you, in spite of you… because of you.

“No…Oare, no…”

“She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”

You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade, this love our shield, our blade" Oh, but darling do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain

"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"

"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"

"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."

Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face and settle at the soles of his feet, trickling through and into the ground, until he was so empty he felt faint, he felt like he would never be the same again. So many emotions tried him, from ecstatic relief that he couldn’t even explain to himself, at the fact that you were awake, and well enough to walk, to paralysing fear that overwhelmed him, at the fact you were out in your state, that you were gone Eywa knows where, at the fact he’s now going to have to face you and talk to you.

Too many things have changed in such a short amount of time, so many things he couldn’t make sense of or understand, too many revelations and the possibility of more, of the truth, that Neteyam dreaded. A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it - either he confronted you and you told him his father misunderstood, that it wasn’t true, that you too loved him the way he loved you, which meant the last seven years of both your lives, everything you have put each other through would have been for nothing, or his father was right, and having a confirmation of your lack of feelings, which is what he thought fuelled your actions all these years, which was a truth he avoided knowing for a fact for so long, and that might be too hard to bear after all.

“We have to find her, grandma said she shouldn’t be walking around.”

“I know where she is.”

He’s always known where you were when you wanted to be alone. He’s always known because it’s a place that used to be his, his secret spot, his uncharted paradise. A place that he showed to you when you were both children, and that became a safe heaven for the both of you in time, that you took from him after your unfortunate fallout. Just one more thing you ended up taking from him in time. He couldn’t have returned to this place anyway, not with all the memories of you that plagued it, that might as well have been enclosed in a room stuck in a past that he never wanted to revisit.

It took him no time at all to find you, his mind disassociating from the walk, until it was like he blinked and he was there, in the clearing that he dreaded coming to, where the last time he came, he took it too far, the memory of the words that you spat at each other, the way his anger physically manifested itself for the first time in his life, the way he lost control of his emotions and his temper, it was all so ugly and unsightly, it hurt him even thinking about it.

Your back was turned to him as you lay on the edge of the lake, one leg dangling mindlessly in the water, and Neteyam’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you - your hunched shoulders, so far removed from the awe-inspiring, empowered stance you normally displayed to people. Your tail was thrashing furiously from side to side, ears pushed flat against your head that rested on your bent knee, braided hair tousled and unkept as it fell over your face, shielding you from view. Neteyam didn’t even know whether he should speak - if there was still a voice in his throat that could push sounds out, and as he tried, he heard nothing, the only sound in his ears one of muffled, panted breaths and thunderous, erratic heartbeats, that somehow drowned everything else out.

"Leave."

Neteyam ignored your words, all of his senses focused on your voice, on the sniffles that accompanied it, and what they represented. Neteyam has seen you cry only a couple times in all the time he's known you, and not once since your fallout. He was sure you would have rather swallowed a poisoned knife's blade than show weakness in front of him. He gulped audibly when he realised that if you did, that means you knew... if you did, there was no escaping the wrath that was currently embedded in your soul, that he wasn't sure would ever leave you again.

“Why are you here? You should be resting.”

He heard you scoff, bitterness laced through your voice that normally was sweet as a yovo fruit on a summer day, that now felt spoilt, like it had been left rotting on the ground, with no one the wiser.

“Since when do you care about my wellbeing, huh? Last thing I knew I could be dead in a ditch and you’d probably throw a party and dance over my grave. Leave me be, I don't want to deal with you right now.”

"Txepvi... Just co-"

"Don't you dare call me that. You have long forsaken the right to call me that. Just fucking leave, Neteyam."

He felt anger pricking at him like a dagger he was all too familiar with, that was dull and middling, but whose sting still hurt if pushed into his skin at the correct angle, in the right spot, where he was weak.

"I'm not leaving until you get back to the tent. Tsa'hik's orders." That was a lie, but one he felt at liberty to make, since it was quite certain his grandmother would want you back resting, and not galavanting in the woods, with a wound that almost killed you, that made you easy prey for the apex predators lurking in the thick foliage.

I didn't obliterate these walls for you to come and raid my home And here you are right next to me Ironically, I've never felt more alone

“Why did you stay with me?”

Whatever anger he had immediately dissipated like droplets water of a hot day, replaced by the same fear that was plaguing him early, that not even the adrenaline coursing through his veins could overpower. What was he supposed to say? It's not like he had an answer to give you - he couldn't even conceptualise it for himself, much less put it into words that would make sense, that would ever satisfy your morbid curiosity.

“Answer me, Neteyam.”

“I don’t know.”

You rose from your spot on the edge of the lake, and when you turned to face him and your eyes locked, his breath lodged in his throat. You looked anguished, sadder than he's ever seen you, puffy eyes so red, it scared him, cheeks purple and stained, and swollen, wet lips opened to accommodate the heaved breaths and quiet sobs that you tried your hardest to push down, so that he wouldn't see.

It was too late, now. He could see. He could see it all, and it scared him, what you were doing to him, these feelings that were rushing down with enough force to make him buckle under their weight, just like a waterfall that crashed into the river below, warping it with its power.

I fell for you faster than I fell apart And I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard

"I don't fucking know, OK? I just needed to - fuck. I needed to make sure you'll live."

"Why?! Why the fuck would you care if I live or die? Why? You haven't cared for more than half our lives, and now, when you would have been more useful on the battlefield, when you could have prevented this mess that you caused to begin with, now you want to play the fucking hero?"

“That I started? Are you hearing yourself right now? I wasn’t the one that pushed, and pushed, and pushed until whatever thread it was that still bound us together turned from wool to steel and snapped, yawne. You made it your life purpose to ruin mine, at every turn, in every way imaginable, for years. I did nothing to you, damn it. I just stopped talking to you. I didn’t hurt you, or purposefully tried to make you ache or suffer, I tried to keep my mouth shut and go about my life, without infringing on yours. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, for fuck’s sa-“

“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam! You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that? Do you understand that you abandoned me? Me, Neteyam, the person who was always there for you, the person who always had your back. Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."

"It meant everything! And my father fucking ruined it, and you ruined it. You ruined it, and I'll never, ever forgive you." the intensity behind his eyes, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the rays of the sun hitting his golden irises, the ones that put stars to shame and brought you to your knees, scared you. You came here to cry, and let it out. You came here to mourn. You didn't expect this. Didn't want this. But, for the first time in years, Neteyam was talking to you. Neteyam was telling you truths buried deep within his soul, deep behind walls you've tried to climb and pierce through longer than you wanted to admit to, and given the little crack of light you saw shine through, you knew you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by.

"What do you mean?"

He looked tired, you realised faintly. It was true... he did stay with you. His face was sunken and caved in, dark purple bags under his eyes, and you traced the tears that brightened his tanhì momentarily, as they caressed his skin, before falling down his neck.

"Tell me it's not true, what you said to him all those years ago. Tell me he didn't hear you right. That he misunderstood."

"Who?"

"My dad. I heard him... telling my grandmother that you'd never want to mate with me. Or be Tsa'hik. He said you said that. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me I was wrong for believing him. Tell me I was an idiot for not coming to you sooner, for shutting you out of my life. For letting this break me. Please."

Shock stilled you in your spot, replacing blood with current that electrified every ounce of your being. What? After all this time, so much time that kids were born and grew up, time in which you watched Tuk go from barely a babe to a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, beautiful girl, time in which you gained and lost your ikran, in which you gained a family and lost the future you thought you were always made for, next to the person you thought you'd always have your back... so much time has passed, and to hear it, the reason, was so unbelievable it didn't feel like it was real. You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...

"He wasn't wrong."

I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands in hopes that we'd put up a fight How paradoxical, since now all I can think about is when will we stop trying

You watched as the intensity on his face was decimated in an instant, his eyes blank and distant as all life seemed to drain from them as you spoke words that you spat without truly even thinking about it. Oare's death, still so fresh in your mind, hurt so much, made every fibre of your being scream in agony, and this new revelation, of the reason of her death being attributed to something you said as a little kid in passing, that he overheard and never bothered to fact-check, made what little sanity you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.

"This is why Oare's dead? This is why so many people are dead, because of one comment I made to your father seven years ago in passing? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Your teeth were bared as you spoke, and the emptiness behind his eyes was replaced with furious anger as he listened, as he realised you had no intention of putting his mind or heart at ease, as you realised he didn't deserve it. Not after everything that's happened, not after the way your soul crashed and imploded inside your body at the guilt that ate you alive, that churned and ground your bones into fine dust, guilt that will never, ever leave you.

“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"

“Well, you know what? I was also just twelve years old! And I loved you, Vi.” The break in his voice hurt you, like a shard of glass plunged in the soft of your skin, and you looked down to try to see if blood was coming out of the wound that wasn't there. There was nothing. Just emptiness, like the vast chasm that separated you, that always will, no matter the fact he was so close to you, you could feel his breath over your face, your scent in your nostrils, his glistening eyes big as planets, eyes you could get lost in easily, you could fall into as easily as falling asleep.

Seeing the unshed tears once more made tears gather in your own. The nickname, that you haven’t heard in all these years, that felt like a relic from a life long forgotten, long forsaken, knocked the air out of you, just as much as his vulnerability, that you weren’t used to seeing anymore did.

“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.”

“I had to watch you prove me right every day of my life. Watched as you fought every day to push me away from my own family, and my own dad, who obviously always found you better than me. Watched as you moved on, with no issue, and dated Na’vi after Na’vi, letting them touch you and kiss you, knowing I could see it, in practice, where I always was, I- “

“You fucking did the same thing! You pushed me away, you never talked to me. You abandoned me, without as much as a goodbye. Without any explanation. You fucked girls anywhere I could see, behind my tent, so I could hear you. You chose them all so they bore no resemblance to me, so I could know how much you hated me, every time I saw their faces. You ruined my relationship with the one person who loved me, who was good for me. You fu-"

All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave I must've thanked my lucky stars too much They left me sitting in too much dust

Your sentence was cut short by a pair of lips crashing into yours, soft and desperate, clinging on to you like his fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, like if letting go was unimaginable, like it was too painful to envision. In your dreams, Neteyam's lips were bruising and calloused and cold, and no matter how fiercely you wanted to protest, no matter how much you hated yourself for it, they were the only lips you ever dreamt about. And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips, holding you impossibly closer, while your own hands found the back of his neck and his hair, that you tugged on until he growled. When he broke the kiss and looked at you, hunger and ache clear in his bright eyes, that looked more black than yellow as his hand found your jaw, that he lifted to tilt your head back, pushing his thumb past your lips so you'd keep quiet, you let out a small whimper, and watched as his pupils dilated even more, almost overtaking his beautiful, molten irises.

"Just...Stop talking."

His lips found the place on your jaw where his fingers just were, and the feeling of him on you burned like molten lava, and you push your head back, giving him access to all of you. Your mind felt numb - a battle within itself as it was trying to come to terms with all the crushing emotions that were fighting for dominion over your thoughts and your soul, each one more devastating than the last - from the guilt that you knew would plague you for the rest of your life, that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome, to the grief of losing your spirit sister, to confusion over what you were doing, over wondering if this was a mistake, to the sadness at Neteyam’s confession and the knowledge he loved you, and you pushed him away without meaning to, to earth-shattering anger at the realisation that this whole ordeal started over nothing and could have been solved if he only ever talked to you and finally, to the hatred that still blossomed, even after all this time, and finally, the desire, pure, unadulterated desire to have him, to be owned, to know what it feels like to be wholly his. You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos.

He was rough as he pushed you until you tipped backwards, but his caress was gentle as he caught you and made sure you weren't hurt as your body hit the damp, soft grass. When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window, and you knew the relief you'd get to feel once he was done with you would be worth the regret in the morning - at least, it felt so right now. His fingers dug into your thighs as they massaged upwards, from your shins to your hips, and when both his thumbs caressed the sensitive spot at the edge of your loincloth, your breath hitched in your throat, silently begging him for more, hoping he wouldn't make you say words out loud you could never take back.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he spoke, his hands stilling on the knot of your tewng.

"Tell me you want this. I need to know you want this, or I stop."

You hissed at him, conflicted beyond words and reason, because no, of course you didn't. But yes, you did. Of course you did.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Neteyam."

At your words, his hands dropped from your hips and in an instant, he was on top of you, his gaze stopping the breath in your lungs as he looked at you, his hand gripping your throat once more, the aggressive gesture at odds with the softness in his eyes and the way he was caressing your jaw in barely-there touches with his thumb.

"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."

You stared daggers at him, and refused to talk, but as you wrapped your fingers around his cummerbund and pulled him in, until his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues, throbbing deep in you at the way he moaned in your mouth, you knew words were meaningless, and words couldn't convey the feelings that tormented you, anyway. You reached for his tewng and masterfully unwrapped it, feeling his cock spring free and slap against your abdomen, and the weight of it made you gasp, a smirk erupting from his face in response.

You needed him. You needed him to numb the pain the he created, that you created, you needed the emptiness that came from being filled to the brim, the fleeting peace that would come with the high that you knew he could provide, because it hurt. It all hurt, and you couldn't stand it. You reached your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, your slick leaving a wet patch in the fabric, that was increasing in size by the second, just at the thought of how he'd feel stretching you out. He let out a small groan at the way you were caressing him, running your thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was leaking, that you felt a sudden urge to taste.

"F-fuck!"

"Take off my tewng, Neteyam."

"For once in your life, you will not get to dictate how this goes."

Despite his words, he listened, and you winced at the weight of his body being lifted off you, instantly missing the contact and comfort it provided. But he wasn't gone long, as he removed your clothes, and you tried not too think of how good his gaze felt on you, how empowering the desire in his eyes as he took you in, how he had to lick his lips and swallow audibly, as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.

He took no time in attaching himself to you again, the thick head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and the velvety feel of him against your folds involuntarily makes you shut your eyes closed and your head push back, need heightening at the way he starts licking and sucking at your breast, leaving purple marks in the wake of his lips and tongue, that you want on every inch of you, that you wanted to cum on as he made your knees buckle and your vision spot.

His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size, and it feels so good, too good, his cock in you, his tail around your thigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, or gripping at your waist, his breath on your neck, his teeth sinking in you so he could stop himself from telling you all the confessions bubbling in his chest, all the ways it's all making sense to him now, that he's never hated you, he's just hated not having you, not being able to call you his. Still, as he bottoms out in you, he can't help some of them from spilling out, the dam of his heart slowly coming apart at the seams.

You did understand. You understood too well. That's why you chose O'i'en. Because he was nothing like the Neteyam you came to know in the years you became an adult. Because his touch was warm and made you feel nothing. Because his eyes bore no resemblance to his, the glimmer of amber nothing like the green flickers that felt like were Eywa's inspiration for the forest that surrounded you; O'i'en's tanhì were scattered like light through the leaves and branches of the trees, unlike Neteyam's, which were like the star dust that created all life in the Universe, that shone brighter than any light post, that shone so brightly, they led you home every night when you were young.

The tears gathered in your eyes as he started a steady pace of his hips, conflicting feelings tugging at the string of your already broken and torn apart heart, whose heart beats felt dragging and echoing, different to the two sounds you were used to, instead pulsating three syllables throughout your whole body, enveloping you and taking over your mind, forcing you to come to terms with issues you thought you buried so deeply, you'd never have to see again.

I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you, I hate you....

I love you.

"Neteyam..."

"I know. You're doing so well for me. So well. Fuck, you feel so, so good."

You moan at his words, the desire bubbling inside of you quickly reaching heights you wouldn't mind falling from, being pushed from, so you could feel the euphoria that came along with falling, without having to worry about the inevitable crash that would follow, at least not right now.

"I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me, yawne. I need to feel you come all over my cock."

For the first time since he's called you that, the term of endearment didn't feel ironic or facetious, and for once in your life, you had no problem obeying his orders - when you came, you came violently, legs shaking and back arched, whimpers and moans pushing past your lips unrestrained, and the sounds made his cock twitch inside of you, his own orgasm so close he could taste it. He lets you ride your high fully before pulling out of you, thick ropes of iridescent cum painting your abdomen and chest, that, in your fucked out mind, you almost wish painted your still-throbbing walls instead.

You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me

It was almost... domestic, the way he was asleep peacefully next to you, his breath so steady and deep, and so relaxed, it almost sounded like purring, his strong, muscular arms holding you close as you lay on your back, looking at the stars, bright, blurry orbs through the distorted lens of your tears, that couldn't stop falling, no matter how much you willed them away. The crash did come eventually, in the few hours since, and it felt like it broke all your bones in the process.

"You and me, we're meant to rise and fall together."

Those words, that became the overarching theme of your relationship, words that you never realised when you spoke them as a child that you would both take so literally, rang in your ears like a broken record your mind could no longer turn off. You were right, all those years ago. Even back then, you knew. You and Neteyam did rise together. From children to adults, from pupils to teachers, from toy soldiers to hardened warriors, rose you did, until you were so high up, the air was thin and suffocating. But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.

You and Neteyam rose and fell together, over and over again, your whole lives. A twisted carousel that wouldn't stop until one of you jumped off it, and with Oare's death, and the shame that followed it, you finally realised it had to be you.

In the early hours of the morning, after a quick wash in the cold lake, you found your way back to the village and straight to the Tsa'hik's tent. You were happy to see her, and nervous to talk, but you knew the quicker you got it out, the quicker it would be over. So with a deep breath, you spoke your piece, and hoped she'd listen.

“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”

Oh, my love Is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch@musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt @call-me-doll-face @puresirius-things @saturniac @call-me-doll-face @dreaming-of-the-reality @whorefortim

(sorry if i missed anyone this list is getting so longgg)

#kendra's reblogs ♡#mooties (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

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wrathandgreed · 4 years ago

Text

A crafty MC making goodbye gifts for the demon bros (unromanced and romanced).

Word count: 3.5k

Notes: I’m a huge crafter (knitter, crocheter, spinner, weaver, cross stitcher, etc) and I’m currently knitting my husband a winter hat, so I started trying to figure out what a crafty MC would make the brothers as goodbye gifts when they go back to the human world.

Also, this got REALLY REALLY long.

Lucifer

(Unromanced)

This guy is hard to make stuff for.

His aesthetic is VERY tight and leaves no room for mistakes

So a simple winter scarf, in business-black, is probably the way to go.

Somewhat lux yarn, cashmere/silk or alpaca/silk, so it has a sheen

He travels to the human world sometimes, and Diavolo has winter themed events in Devildom sometimes, so a scarf isn’t totally impractical.

He would appreciate the amount of time you spent making it, even if he didn’t get a chance to wear it that often.

(Romanced)

Let’s get more personal, now. You still have the same problem with his aesthetic, and the fact that if you want to give him something ~~personal~~ he won’t be able to wear it openly. His pride says no.

He’s stern in public, but affectionate in private.

You knit a medium-sized decorative pillow cover for his bed, in his signature wine-red.

It’s simple and elegant and can sit on his bed like it’s something he picked up in a Hellhome Goods store, and only *he* knows it’s a private gift.

After swearing him to secrecy, you get Solomon to help you charm the pillow, so it never pills up or wears out, and it maintains your scent forever. (Actually, it’s fair to say you do this for all of the romanced gifts).

“I thought, you know, if I can’t be there with you every night, something of me can?”

Awkward MC is awkward.

He not only appreciates how much time went into the gift (who knows how busy you are better than Lucifer?) but that you spent that much time thinking about him.

Mr. Acts of Service over here. Every stitch is something you did *for him*

You assume he’ll just leave it on the bed, and maybe, if you’re lucky, it’ll help you be the last thing he thinks of at night and the first thing he thinks of in the morning.

Maybe he’ll smile when he sees it, and some of his weariness will lift.

Oh, if only you knew.

Mr. “Stern In Public” wraps himself around the pillow every night. Well. Every time he manages to sleep. Which, let’s face it, isn’t every night.

But when he DOES sleep, it’s with that pillow. If he can’t sleep wrapped around you, this will have to suffice.

Finds he doesn’t sleep well when he travels, because he refuses to bring the pillow with him.

If asked, he says it’s because it’s not important.

But he just doesn’t want to lose it.

It’s too important to him.

Mammon

(Unromanced)

You’ve seen this boy’s room.

You’re not spending hours and hours and tons of money making him something.

You love the guy, but you’ve seen how he takes care of his possessions.

Most of what he owns is chucked aside when the next new-shiny comes along.

You know he loves you to bits and he’ll be careful with whatever you give him.

But “careful” has a different definition for Mammon than for some of the others.

So you knit him a hat. A trendy, slightly-too-small hat in black with a small yellow stripe on the brim.

You can use some lux yarn because, for a single-skein project, investing in cashmere or mohair or something isn’t too awful.

It looks really great on him - the fluff of his white hair, the small yellow stripe, then the wash of black as contrast. It makes his eyes pop and his skin look even warmer.

He wears it to a shoot one day and the photographer loves it

Now everyone wants one

But he has the only one because it’s handmade

Suck it, losers!

The Avatar of Greed finally has something everyone else wants that no one else can get!

(Romanced)

Yeah, you’ve seen his room. You’ve practically lived in his room. But you know he’ll be careful with anything you give him because he loves you.

It would break his heart to have to ask you to fix something you made for him.

You know he’s going to suffer when you leave

You want him to know that you’re always there, even if you’re not *there*

So you knit him a sweater

A big, oversized sweater out of super soft chunky wool with tons of texture.

You finish it early so you can wear it around your room for a few weeks. On the rare nights you sleep alone, you sleep in it.

Again, get Solomon to enchant it.

Now it smells like you.

You wouldn’t notice, but a demon’s sense of smell is far stronger.

“I know it’s not, like, fashionable or anything. But it’s comfy and it can be…..a portable hug?”

His face turns red and he winds up stammering. Obviously. So he puts it on to avoid having to look at you.

Chucks it on over his tshirt. He immediately pulls the neckband back up over his face to take a deep inhale from the fabric.

He looks really cute in it

(He looks really cute in anything, let’s face it)

Might start crying.

Hug him pls.

Any night he feels lonely (which is most nights) he wears this sweater. Falls asleep in it half the time.

It really is like a hug, and the boy needs all the hugs he can get.

Leviathan

(Unromanced)

Out of all the brothers, Levi is the one who will appreciate STUFF. No matter what you make for him, he’ll love it.

It’s limited edition! No one else has anything like this!

So this boy is getting crocheted plushies.

(They’re called amigurumi, and he’ll appreciate knowing that)

You make a mobile for his room

Hanging from it are little plushies of all his favorite sea creatures

Henry 2.0 is the biggest

But there’s a few jellyfish

A whale

You had to completely invent a pattern for a kraken, and it came out okay!

You had some extra yarn, so you made a few extra jellyfish

They get suction cups.

Now he has jellyfish in his tanks and outside his tanks

Spends the next hour rigging up the mobile over his tub so he can see them before he goes to sleep and remember how much his true friend cares about him.

(Romanced)

This took….time to make.

You had to basically invent two patterns from scratch

There was a LOT of frogging.

And swearing.

When Levi opens the box and pulls aside the tissue paper, there’s two crocheted figures

One of each of you

(The one of you may or may not be dressed as Ruri-Chan)

“You made these…..for me?”

Tell him you made ONE of them for him. You take the one of him and hug it, “This one comes with me. So I’ve still got you.”

(Don’t let him cry!)

(Too late)

Then you show him the best part - each figure has a magnet in one hand.

When they get close to each other, the magnets snap together and the figures hold hands :)

Even though the two amigurumi will be in two separate realms, those magnets will want to find their partner.

Levi is floored - this is just like something out of an anime! Like two halves of a locket or something!

He can’t even find words. Possibly not for the next hour or two.

But he makes the cutest little squeaks and the verbal equivalent of keysmashes.

Like Lucifer, he sleeps with your gift. But he also carries it around his room. It has pride of place on his desk, and he purchases a stand so you can sit with him while he games or does his online schooling.

He talks to it like he would talk to you, especially on busy days when you can’t actually talk to him on the D.D.D.

It eases the feeling that you left Devildom and forgot about him. Eases - just a little - the jealousy of every human in your world who gets to talk to you. Because none of THEM have a handmade you. Just him.

Satan

(Unromanced)

This guy is either the easiest one to make for, or the hardest.

Like, you could make him a stuffed kitty. Or knit him a tie. But he’s not a super sentimental guy (unless romanced) and, in the end, that’s just stuff. His room is FULL of stuff.

Soooooo, you take out your sewing skills and sew him a traditional Sherlock hat - the deerstalker one, the one that never was actually in the books, but is still associated with the character.

The most straightforward of the brothers, Satan is indeed touched that you spent so long making something for him and he tells you so.

Insists he’ll wear it when solving mysteries.

You laugh, but he actually does wear the hat when reading mysteries now.

It reminds him of the trip to London - how he got to solve an actual mystery, save his brother, and see the sites with his friend.

(Romanced)

YouTube made it look so easy.

It’s just paper, right? Paper and thread and a needle. You can sew clothes and stuffed animals. How hard can it be to sew together pages to make a book?

Oh, my sweet summer child.

You considered actually pulping and making your own paper, but after the seventh ruined batch of signatures you’re grateful you talked yourself out of that one.

You also considered an actual leather binding, but go for boards and a more simple Japanese sewing technique.

This project is the perfect thing to give to Satan - not just because it’s a book, but because making it is causing you SO MUCH RAGE.

Who needs firewood when you have the ruined attempts of your gift?

You may have thrown various attempts on the floor and stomped on them before chucking them in the fire.

It takes weeks but you finally get the book together. Now the REAL work can begin.

Every book the two of you read together. Every book you discussed. Every book you recommended to him. Every single one gets a page - a title, a date, and a discussion of your discussion of the book.

The book itself becomes a tour through your growing relationship.

While not as stern as Lucifer in public, Satan is also definitely fond in private - he’s completely unsurprised to receive a book as a present, but once he begins leafing through it, the semi-smug smile vanishes.

He looks shocked, and his hold on the book gentles.

His fingers run down the page, tracing your handwriting on a page particularly precious to him.

Speechless for a few minutes, he finally returns with only “I love it.”

Said so softly and sincerely that you can’t doubt his sincerity.

There are blank pages at the end and he begins to use them to document newer books he’s reading - ones he wants to discuss with you later.

Asmodeus

(Unromanced)

Good luck keeping your gift a secret!

Asmo loves craft and crafty things, so he’s always curious about what you’re making and fascinated with the process.

Probably helps with suggestions for the others, especially for a romanced brother (although WHAT you see in them is beyond him, after all, what can THEY have that Asmo doesn’t?)

Because he seems to pop up out of nowhere, he’s already seen his gift a few times. Thankfully, he thinks you’re making it for yourself.

Bonus, he’s whiny and jealous about it, and obviously wants it for himself. So, score. You know he’ll like it.

It seems simple; a pair of fingerless gloves in his signature hot pink. But the yarn is mohair lace (you’ve cursed at it many, many times for tangling on you) held double with merino/silk black yarn.

The gloves are lacy and airy, sensual and soft. They feel wonderful to wear, and look great with a majority of his outfits.

He absolutely squeals and hugs you when he opens up the gift - the gift he was so jealous of! Of COURSE you were making it for him this whole time!

Wears them constantly. His Devilgram pics start having a lot of “what am I holding?” themes. Cups of coffee or hot chocolate. Someone else’s hand. A ticket for an absolutely fabulous play. And a LOT of peace signs and finger-hearts :)

(Romanced)

This one requires the cooperation - willing or not - of everyone in the house.

You start with your DDD. That’s easy enough.

Since you’ll need Sol’s help anyway, it’s easy enough to plunder the pictures on his phone, too.

The rest of the brothers you get, one by one. Belphie’s you steal while he’s sleeping, although you found nothing useful on it. Beel just lets you borrow his phone. You ask to borrow Mammon’s while he’s gambling and he doesn’t notice that it takes you an hour to give it back. Satan - the real photographer - must be taken into your confidence - you might need his help later anyway. But he’s particularly close to Asmo, and knows how to keep his mouth shut.

You stalk Lucifer for a few weeks. You ask Satan for advice. You consider asking Diavolo to just order Lucifer to hand over his phone.

Finally you just ask him for it.

Getting a hold of Asmo’s phone is the hardest bit. You have to wait until he’s deep in a spa day, hanging around in his tub with both a sheet mask AND cucumber slices.

Then you make off with his phone. And go through the photos.

His wonderful Devilgram-worthy pictures you ignore. You start looking for the ones that he rejected, but kept. The one where both of you cracked up laughing right before the photo snapped. The one where he dropped his hot chocolate and then stole yours.

The two of you in clay face masks and toe spacers? Yep. The one you took of him with super-wide eyes as he put on mascara? Definitely. Selfies of you two surrounded by his brothers, by Sol, by Simeon, even a few with Luke.

The one Satan took of the two of you dancing at one of Diavolo’s balls, so lost in each other that the rest of the ball might as well not exist? Of course.

You combine them with the ones taken by everyone else in the house.

Culling them for the best takes weeks. Because you don’t just want the ~~prettiest~~ pictures or the ones designed for social media.

You pick the ones with emotional meaning, ones of important events, but mostly you choose pictures of genuine laughter and affection. Ones that show how much the two of you love each other, and how much true friendship exists in the house.

How much he’s not alone, and how much he is loved. How much the people around him appreciate him.

With Satan and Solomon, you gather and enchant a simple glass cube.

It displays these photos, gently lit up, like the digital picture frames in the human world.

“I want you to remember me,” you say quietly. “I want you to remember how much fun we’ve had, and how much I love you for you.”

Not gonna lie, Asmo cries.

The cube moves around his rooms depending on where he is - it’s by his tub if he’s taking a bath. It’s on his vanity when he’s putting on his makeup. He credits it with helping his relaxation and makeup game.

It’s always on a nightstand by his bed before he goes to sleep. Sometimes he just lays on his back, puts the cube on his stomach, and watches memories float through it.

What you wanted - for him to remember that he’s loved for more than his sexual prowess - comes true. The pictures remind him of the life he has outside of a bedroom.

He starts spending more time with his brothers. He starts taking more pictures.

His followers appreciate the diversification in his content :)

He appreciates how much you love getting texts of those photos - the not-social-media-ready ones, but the REAL ones.

Beelzebub

(Unromanced)

I mean, you could just bake the guy a dozen cakes.

But then he’d eat them and they’d be gone.

And you can’t make him anything that looks like food, because he’d eat it.

You’ve finished your gifts for half of the brothers before you even figure out what to make for him.

And then it comes to you…..socks.

He’ll use them.

He won’t eat them.

They’re not the most interesting gift, but you’re running out of time.

You actually manage to find a pattern covered with colorwork triangles that mimic his usual shirt.

You get Satan to charm them for you - the problem with handmade socks is that they wear out FAST. Not anymore!

Beel LOVES them.

(To be fair, he’d probably love anything you gave him)

Once he knows they won’t wear out, they become his Game Socks.

Like most athletes, he becomes superstitiously obsessed with the socks, wearing them for absolutely every game he plays.

Is convinced they help him win.

(Romanced)

You encounter basically the same problem as above - what on earth to make him?

You want something that reminds him how much you love him, and it absolutely can’t be anything he could even be tempted to eat, because he’d never forgive himself.

You try a number of times to build a small tapestry loom, but that skill seems to be beyond you.

Finally you have to beg Lucifer to pick one up for you in the human world.

Once you get it, you’re off and running.

Now, just because things can’t look like food doesn’t mean it can’t be inspired by it.

Red yarn, the exact juicy red of an apple - but here, just an abstract circle. Mixes of pale cream, yellow, and red in a triangle - an abstract pizza slice.

Those cookies Barbatos makes? There. The broccoli-cheddar soup you learned to make for her? Now just an orange blob with tiny green squiggles. And on, and on.

And buried, scattered throughout, little woven hearts.

The hearts are made of slightly different yarn, puffier and thicker, so they stand out just a little bit.

In the end, you have a decent-sized wall hanging, full of texture and shapes that are just reminiscent enough of food to bring a smile to Beel’s face, but not enough to actually be worth eating.

He passes the hanging every day, and every day he brushes his fingers over the yarn or through the fringe; a physical reminder of you.

Belphegor

(Unromanced)

This guy is probably the easiest one to make things for.

Is it soft? Is it cuddly? Can he use it as a pillow? Can he snuggle it like a stuffed animal?

Click “yes” on any of those questions, and you have a happy - well, a slightly less annoyed - Belphie.

Which is why you take this as a challenge. The easy answer - a pillow - is BORING. And the other easy answer - a blanket - would take WAY too much time.

So, like Levi, he gets a plushie.

But not just any plushie.

He gets a plushie of Lucifer.

Lucifer…..on a pastel unicorn.

Belphie starts cackling the moment he opens it, which is fair, because you laughed a fair bit designing and making it.

He starts leaving it where Lucifer can find it, then saying that the elder can’t do anything about it, because MC made it and there’s no way he’d want to harm anything made by MC.

Satan tries to steal it.

In the end, an “anonymous” Devilgram is created, dedicated to the “adventures” of this particular plushie.

It’s all fun and games until Diavolo wants one.

(Romanced)

Well, for your boyfriend, the time and effort involved in making a blanket is just fine.

You debate endlessly - comprehensive color scheme? Granny squares or stripes? How heavy?

You go with your gut instinct - this isn’t a boy who cares about color schemes or blanket styles.

(Just look at his clothes, seriously.)

He cares about one thing - comfort.

You find the softest, smushiest yarn you can, and a pattern you can tolerate working on for like 100 hours.

You go old-school; a granny square blanket like the ones that pretty much every person had thrown over the couch in the 70s and 80s. The perfect nap blanket.

Black… mostly black, with some bright accent colors. Kind of obnoxious accent colors, actually. You figure it’ll appeal to his (dubious) sense of humor. Also it’ll piss Lucifer off seeing it around the house, clashing with literally everything in the oh-so-perfectly-decorated Gothic interior.

This one requires….special enchantment.

A little bit of ritual, and that blanket will fold up into a tiny square; easy to carry from place to place.

Belphie is torn between wanting to carry it around everywhere, like his pillow, and to leave it in the attic room, always waiting for him.

Depending on his mood, he’ll do one or the other.

But no matter what, he also sleeps juuuust a little bit better under it, snuggled up under your love.

You make him the Lucifer plushie, too. It’s too funny not to :)

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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Her Matching Pair of Socks - George Weasley

Title: Her Matching Pair of Socks Pairing: George x Fem!Reader, Adrian Pucey x Fem!Reader (ish, not really) Summary: George will always protect Y/N, even if it means confronting his true feelings . A/N: for the anon who wanted George being overprotective of the reader who was being teased!! The house of the reader is unspecified b/c it truly doesn’t matter but I pictured her as a Hufflepuff as I wrote, please do with that what you will haha. Feedback is always welcome!!! Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27 @thefifthweasley

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“George? George?” Y/N asks, waving her hand in front of his face. She giggles as his eyes seem to refocus on the world and he smiles at her. “Were you listening to anything I just said?”

George nods as he searches his brain, trying to see if any part of it retained any of the things Y/N had been talking about just a second ago while he’d been daydreaming. Y/N is magnetic. She has warm eyes, a kind smile and the biggest heart George has ever seen. She draws people in with one look, and once she’s captured them they have no chance of getting away; not that they’d want to. Unfortunately for George this means he rarely gets a moment alone with her, which is something he so desperately craves. Y/N has been the star of George’s thoughts since the first moment they met when she had quite literally saved his ass.

He and Fred had just pulled a prank on a few Slytherins and were running away from Snape. They had split up at some point, and as George ran away he could hear Snape gaining on him. George was sure he was about to be caught when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him into an empty classroom. Y/N had simply placed her finger over her mouth and winked at him, and as soon as Snape ran by their hiding spot she’d burst out in a fit of giggles. George had never heard anything so beautiful, and he sat there with her for hours, sometimes talking, but mostly just watching her knit. Y/N is sunshine encapsulated, and George could have sat there for days, basking in her rays of light and warmth.

Fred had found him eventually and dragged him back to the Gryffindor common room, and George worried that he’d never see her again. But the next morning at breakfast the hat she had been knitting was sitting in his usual spot waiting for him, and when his eyes met hers across the Hall she winked. From that moment on George has been caught in Y/N’s magnetic field, constantly swirling around her but never quite connecting the way he wants.

“Were you? Then what did I say?” she questions with a grin, one of her eyebrows raising.

George’s heart melts and he leans in closer to her, resting his chin on his hand. “I’m sorry, love. I wasn’t giving you the attention you deserve. Tell me again.”

Y/N rolls her eyes playfully and puts her knitting needles down so she can ruffle George’s hair. “That’s okay, Georgie. It wasn’t that important anyway. What’s on your mind?”

“Just this Transfiguration assignment,” he lies. George isn’t quite sure why he hasn’t shared his true feelings with Y/N, and it’s not as if he hasn’t tried either. There have been quite a few times when his confession was resting on the tip of his tongue, but each time someone ended up being drawn to Y/N and stole her attention away. “McGonagall’s really giving it to us this term.”

“Maybe your assignments would be easier to handle if you didn’t wait until the last minute to do them?” Y/N suggests with a wink.

George’s heart flutters in his chest and he has to take a deep breath to calm himself down. “Ah yes, but if I didn’t leave my homework until the day before it was due then who would sit here with you and keep you company while everyone else is outside soaking up the last of the weekend?” George is sure that anyone Y/N asked for companionship would drop everything to sit with her, and he feels honored that she always chooses him.

“Now how can I argue with that?” she teases, picking her needles up once again.

Watching Y/N knit is one of George’s favorite pastimes. She’s tried to teach him a few times, but he always ends up just creating a big knot of yarn and using the needles as drumsticks. The way her fingers move mesmerizes George to no end and he loves watching whatever she’s making start to take form before his eyes. More often than not whatever she’s making somehow always ends up in George’s possession, not that he’s complaining. So far this school year he’s added two new jumpers, three hats, a scarf and half a dozen pairs of socks to his wardrobe. Every item radiates the same warmth Y/N does, and on days where he can’t have her to himself he puts something on and when he closes his eyes it’s as if she’s right there with him.

“Whatcha makin?” George asks, completely abandoning any attempt at finishing his homework. McGonagall will probably be shocked that he did any of it at all, and he doesn’t want to put her into an early grave by actually finishing it.

“A sweater,” she responds sweetly, not looking up from her work. “And before you ask, no it’s not for you,” she chuckles and gestures towards the skein of yarn she’s using. “Though you may recognize the yarn.”

The yarn Y/N is using is a soft lilac color with glitter interwoven throughout the soft strands and George recognizes it because he’s the one who bought it. He and Fred had ventured into Diagon Alley a few days before Christmas to check out the space they were thinking about opening their joke shop in, and the yarn had caught George’s attention from a window display. He spent quite a bit of money buying every skein the store had, but it was all worth it to him. Lilac is Y/N’s favorite color, and George would do just about anything to see her smile. He gave it to her on the first day back from break a few weeks ago, and he can practically still feel how tightly she had hugged him.

“Does look kinda familiar, I bet a world class bloke gave that to you,” he jokes. Y/N laughs, and it makes George’s stomach feel queasy.

“Best bloke I know anyway,” she compliments with a wink.

George can feel his cheeks heating up, and he’s thankful for the distraction when students start to pour into the Great Hall for dinner. He sighs heavily and starts to pack his homework up, disappointed that his time with Y/N is already coming to an end. “See you in class tomorrow?”

Y/N nods as she stands up, gathering her latest project into her arms. “Most definitely, Georgie.” She leans over and boops him on the nose, before turning away and heading towards her house table.

“Hello lover boy,” Fred greets suddenly.

George jumps, having been too focused on Y/N to notice his brother’s sudden presence. He glares at Fred as he plops into the seat next to George, and he smacks him on the chest. “Screw off.” Suddenly the tables in the Great Hall fill with everything needed for dinner, and George starts piling his plate with food. “You get everything we need?”

Fred nods as he does the same as his brother. “Oh yeah. We’ve got enough Chinese gun powder to level all of England. It’ll be delivered to the store next weekend. We can apperate to Diagon Alley from Hogsmeade to meet the delivery person.”

“Wicked,” George responds, a glint of mischief in his eye. Fred had used the secret passageway into Honeydukes basement to meet a guy who deals with explosives at the Hogshead Inn. They’re starting to put their plans together for their joke shop, and the first step has been to find decent suppliers so they can start producing some stock. “You take care of the other stuff I asked?”

Fred rolls his eyes and hands George a bag from Honeydukes. “Yes, you big softie. I got everything on the list, don’t you worry.”

“Thanks, prat.” George takes the bag from Fred and peers inside to make sure he actually did pick up everything George requested. Y/N’s sweet tooth is one of George’s favorite things about her and he’s always sure to have a stash of her favorites on hand at all times. “Where’s my change?”

Fred grins and pats his pocket. “Consider it my fee so you could spend the day staring at Y/N inside the warm castle, while I tread through a dark underground tunnel.”

“Whatever, drama queen,” George huffs with an eyeroll. He puts the bag down and starts to eat, turning his attention to Y/N. She’s sitting with her friends talking happily, and George can feel his heart rate increase as a smile spreads across his face. But just as quickly as it appears it vanishes, when Adrian Pucey comes up behind Y/N and taps her on the shoulder. He watches her nod as they talk, and when Adrian walks away he looks way too smug with himself.

“That didn’t look good,” Fred comments, nudging George with his elbow.

George shrugs, trying to seem like his stomach isn’t churning with dread. “You know how Y/N is. People like talking to her. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“What did Adrian want yesterday?” George asks Y/N the following evening, trying to sound casual. They’re sitting in the library working on a Potions assignment, and it seems like there has been a never ending stream of people approaching them to speak with Y/N. He’s been dying to ask her about Adrian, but he wanted to wait until they were alone.

Y/N bites her lip as she looks up at George. “He asked me on a date, actually. To Hogsmeade next weekend.”

“Oh,” George says softly. His stomach has dropped into the floor and it feels like he was punched in the chest. “What did you say?”

“I told him that I would think about it.” Y/N gives George a look and there’s an unreadable expression on her face. “Do you think I should say yes?”

The tips of George’s ears feel like they’re on fire, and he has to put his quill down so he can wipe his sweaty palms off on his school trousers. What he wants to say is no, that she should go with him to Hogsmeade instead, and then lean forward and kiss her. But instead he shrugs and says, “If you want to, I guess.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N responds quietly, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. “Thanks, I guess.”

George refocuses his attention on his homework for once, hoping that the sound of his heart pounding in his chest isn’t audible.

The next day by lunch time word has gotten to George that Y/N agreed to go on a date with Adrian. It makes his chest feel hollow, and he avoids her gaze at all costs. He avoids her in the hallways and when she asks to study with him in the library George brushes her off, claiming that he already has plans with Fred. He can tell that she’s upset, and it breaks George’s heart as he walks away.

He’s never been jealous over Y/N before. Even though he craves her presence and would give anything to spend every moment of every day with her, George has never minded sharing her with others. He’s spent countless hours with Y/N where they never even speak because her attention is captured by other people. Whether it’s people catching her in a casual conversation, or someone who takes a seat with them for a deeper interaction. George has always been content to just sit there and watch her face light up as she talks about whatever topic is at hand. Even if he’s not around Y/N, he loves to watch her from across the room as she talks to people. He finds everything she does absolutely adorable, and Fred often teases him for how hard he swoons.

But the thought of Y/N being alone with Adrian fills his chest with so much jealousy it feels like he’s drowning in it. He knows he has no right to be jealous, he’s never shared his romantic feelings with Y/N, and she isn’t his girlfriend or even a girl he’s casually dated. She’d even asked his opinion on whether she should accept. And instead of doing the smart thing and just telling her how he feels, he’d basically brushed her off.

As much as George wants to avoid Y/N, he’s still stuck in her orbit, so on Wednesday afternoon during break he parts ways with Fred and heads over to Y/N. “Got room for one more?” he asks, grinning down at her. Y/N moves over but doesn’t say anything. George frowns as he sits down. “What’s got you down, clown?”

Y/N cracks the faintest smile before she lets it fall from her features. “Just wasn’t sure you were talking to me is all. You haven’t been around lately.”

“I’m around now,” George points out, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ve just been a bit busy with Fred is all. You’re still my number one girl.” George’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest as he raises up one of his pantlegs. “I wouldn’t be rockin’ these bad boys if you weren’t.”

Y/N giggles as she looks at George’s sock, shoving him playfully. It’s neon pink and is truly the most offensive piece of clothing she’s ever seen. The yarn had been left over from a Christmas present she made for a young cousin a few years ago, and Y/N needed to use it up somehow. She originally planned on leaving them in her sock drawer for a few months before donating them to a charity, but the second George saw them he nabbed them from her, and he’s worn them quite a few times sense.

“They look wonderful, Georgie. Though I think it’s best you keep them hidden, they clash terribly with your Gryffindor tie and your fiery hair.” Y/N reaches up and tugs on a strand of George’s hair and he can feel his blood pressure spike.

“Well in that case.” George leans down and rolls up the cuff of both his pant legs, so a few inches of the socks are visible. “How do I look?”

“Ravishing,” Y/N says with a laugh.

It’s the most beautiful sound George has ever heard, and it sends a shiver down his spine. “Bet you wished you kept these for yourself now, don’t ya?”

Before Y/N can respond, one of her other friends swoops in to talk to her about her upcoming date with Adrian, and George sneaks away to avoid the heart break.

“Are you excited for your date?” Y/N’s friend Emily asks as they head towards the entrance to the castle.

Y/N nods happily, letting her eyes scan the crowd of people heading out of the castle. She gets her hopes up when she spots a shock of ginger hair bobbing above the crowd, but they evaporate when the person turns around and it turns out to be Fred. Y/N hasn’t seen George in three days, and his absence has been driving her crazy. She’s friendly with everyone but only has a few true friends, and she considers George to be one of them. She would even consider George to be her best friend, and it feels weird to not have spoken to him in a few days.

“What are you guys going to do?” Emily asks, pulling Y/N’s attention back to the present.

“Just have some butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, hang out, talk. Nothing too super crazy. I don’t really know Adrian that well, so I think it’ll give us a nice chance to get to know each other.”

Y/N had agreed to meet Adrian there, so when her and Emily reach Hogsmeade a few minutes later, she parts from her with a wave and heads right into the pub. She grabs a drink at the bar before settling in at a table in the back corner. When Adrian is 5 minutes late Y/N brushes it off, figuring that he got caught up leaving the castle or lost track of time. When he’s 30 minutes late, Y/N has already ordered another drink, figuring that he’ll be there any minute. And when he doesn’t show up after an hour Y/N decides to throw the towel in and head back to the castle.

Y/N feels emotionally drained as she makes her way back up towards Hogwarts, and she blinks back a few tears. Even though she’s not particularly interested in Adrian romantically, it had felt nice to be asked out and she truly was looking forward to getting to know him more. She always gives anyone who wants it a piece of her day, and Adrian not showing up make her feel as if she’s been taken advantage of. Her plan is to try and forget this ever happened until dinner that evening.

Y/N turns around when she feels something hit her in the back of the head, and when she turns around she can see Adrian, Marcus Flint and Theodore Knott laughing amongst themselves. There’s a piece of balled up parchment on the ground, and Y/N tries to ignore their stares as she leans down to pick it up.

How was the butterbeer? Lonely?

Y/N’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and she quickly turns back into her seat, shoving the piece of parchment into her pocket. She forces her tears away as she tries to get back into the conversation going on around her, unable to stop herself from searching George out in the crowd.

For the next week it seems everywhere she goes Adrian, Marcus and Theo are following a few paces behind. They never directly talk to her, but they talk about her loud enough for her to hear.

“Can’t believe she actually thought I wanted to go out with her!”

“How pathetic. I can’t believe it took her over an hour to realize you weren’t going to show up! What a moron.”

“She’s such a weirdo, no wonder she has no actual friends.”

It doesn’t help that George seems to be avoiding her as well. He doesn’t pass her stupid little notes in class anymore and when their eyes lock across the Great Hall he immediately looks away instead of giving her a cheeky grin. Every time she tries to ask him to come sit with her in the library he turns the other way in the hall before she catches him, and when she catches a peak of him and Fred outside pelting snowballs at Ron, he’s wearing his Gryffindor beanie, instead of one of her knit caps.

She misses George like crazy. He’s one of the only people who doesn’t want something from her. Most people only spend time with Y/N when they need to vent or ask her a question. George is the only person who is content with just sitting there with her in silence while they do their homework, or she knits. She could sit in silence with George for hours and just exist, so having him gone while also being tormented by Adrian and his gang has left Y/N with a deep ache in her chest and a pit of loneliness in her stomach.

Avoiding Y/N has to be the hardest thing George has ever done, and he once spent a week with his Great Aunt Tessie when he was 8. He craves her presence, but the thought of hearing about Adrian endlessly makes his stomach churn. Watching Y/N’s face fall every time he dodged her absolutely broke George’s heart, but he can’t stand to see someone else make her happy.

“You think she’s going to cry?”

George grimaces when he’s brought from his thoughts of Y/N and notices that Adrian and his goons are a few feet in front of him. Most of the school is in the Great Hall having dinner, but George didn’t feel like eating. Y/N had spent most of Transfiguration trying to get George’s attention, and ignoring her has left his stomach queasy.

“Reckon she might with how soft she is. Bet she’s cried herself to sleep every night this week.”

He has no idea who they’re talking about and he figures they’re tormenting some first year who is walking ahead of them. George is a little too far behind them to see who it is, but he decides to follow them anyway, in case he needs to intervene.

“What a stupid girl.”

Adrian’s words cut George deep. How could Y/N be interested in someone like him? George clenches his fist and starts to walk faster to catch up with them. He’s been wanting to smack Adrian and his smug face since the day he asked Y/N out, and this seems like a perfect excuse.

“Will you leave me alone!” Y/N shouts, and George’s blood runs cold. Her voice is shaky, and George knows that if she’s not already crying she will be soon.

Adrian, Marcus and Theodore stop in their tracks and cackle, and the sound makes George even angrier.

“Aw, poor pathetic Y/N has finally managed to stand up for herself. How cute,” Adrian taunts.

Y/N sniffles, and George can feel anger swell up in his chest. “Standing me up wasn’t enough for you, was it? Now you have to torment me about it too? Is that why you asked me out? So you could be mean to me?”

“Why else would someone ask you out? You’re not worth anyone’s time.”

George reaches them then, and he grips is wand tightly in one hand while the other grips the collar of Adrian’s shirt. He pulls him back sharply, causing Marcus and Theodore to take a few steps back as well. George takes one look at Y/N’s tear stained face and lets the anger in his chest consume him completely. “Leave her the fuck alone,” he spits, turning to face Adrian.

“Shove off, Weasley. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something,” Adrian seethes, squaring up against George.

“Not anymore you prick.” George can hear Y/N crying, and he moves slightly to shield her behind his back. “Now get lost before I make you.” Adrian takes a step forward and George raises his wand, pressing the tip of it to Adrian’s throat. “Unless you want to end up in the Hospital Wing for the next three weeks I suggest you move along.” George’s jaw is clenched, and his voice is deep and dark. George doesn’t move until they disappear down the hall. Only then does he drop his wand and turn around to hug Y/N.

Y/N presses her face into George’s chest and lets out a few more tears. “Thank you, George,” she mumbles.

“Of course, love. I will always be there for you, you know that.” George squeezes her tighter and resists his urge to kiss the top of her head. Instead he rests his chin there, and his eyes flutter closed as he soaks in her warmth. “How long have they been bothering you?” George asks quietly when he starts to feel like himself again.

“Since last Saturday, after Adrian stood me up.” Y/N pulls away from George’s chest so she can look up at him. “How come you’ve been ignoring me, Georgie? I’ve missed you so much.”

George’s heart breaks, and he brings a hand up to wipe away the last few tears from her cheeks. “I’ve missed you too, Y/N. I was being an idiot, like usual.” He takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what he’s about to say. “I’ve liked you Y/N, for as long as I’ve known you. And after Adrian asked you out I got so unbelievably jealous that I couldn’t be around you, I couldn’t hear you talk about your date with him and how excited you were because just the thought of him being alone with you made me want to throw up.”

Y/N bites her lip as she considers what to say next. “You’d do anything for me George, right?”

“Of course, Y/N. Anything,” George confirms, cupping her cheek gently.

“Kiss me,” she breathes.

George hesitates for a second before he leans down and presses their mouths together softly. Their lips move together slowly, and George can feel his head spinning. His knees shake when they pull apart, and when George looks into Y/N’s eyes they shine brighter than the sun.

“Nice sweater,” George compliments as Y/N joins him in that Great Hall that Sunday. She giggles and does a little twirl for him and George feels like he’s soaring through the air.

“Thank you, my boyfriend gave me the yarn I used to make it.” Y/N leans over the table to press a kiss to George’s cheek before taking the seat across from him. She digs around in her bag for a moment before pulling out a pair of socks, knit from the same lilac material as her sweater.

“For me?” George asks, giving her a bright smile. He takes them from her excitedly and kicks off his shoes so he can pull them on.

Y/N laughs as George bring one of his feet up to show off the lilac sock, letting the glitter in the yarn shine. “Of course. What’s a sweater without a pair of matching socks?”

George leans over and kisses Y/N gently. “I’m always down to be your matching pair of socks.”

#George weasley #George Wesley imagine #gw #golden

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yuichi-ro · 3 years ago

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i do need to think of a name don’t i? damn little spitfire already growing on me. make them all suffer.

kisaki calling a special meeting with all the executives only for them to find out why. a very important mission- daughter’s partner cheated on her and now toman is after their ass. and when daughter finds out? she ain’t mad at all, she had already been plotting on her own and kisaki sheds a tear bc he couldn’t be prouder but also hates the circumstances that created it. definitely impressed by her planning for a teen.

desperately need more interactions between the kiddo and toman members bc it would be hilarious ughhh

maybe some fashion styling w uncle inui and koko pftt

i raise to you; kisaki who picks up knitting as a de-stressing hobby. every year, there are homemade ugly christmas sweaters as it should. family board game nights hanma and fam join so it will be more fun. cooking and going shopping together not ever having to look at any prize tag because the money is just there. and so many father daughter bonding activities.

god just dad kisaki;; its sooo cuteee man. so many adorable ideas;;;

also yeah. some men. just no. dude read the room. he was nice enough but there are too many that are nice about it mam

-🌌momo

Kisaki's suffering. All of Toman's suffering. All at the hands of a very cute pint size human with probably a ridiculously proper name *nods more and more* Yep yep ye this sounds about right, KiMo love child is canon now

Father and daughter going through their murder plan together though 😭 Kiddo finds out, Kisaki is trying to be like "This isn't how we handle things" Though Sanzu is already on the way to shatter their kneecaps never mind that. Until Kisaki is looking at his kid's very well thought out and plotted out notes on murder. Smitten with himself when he sees things he's done and ideas he's had. Now it's just dad Kisaki sitting on his daughter's bed shedding a tear over her murder notebook bc it looks like his notes at her age and he can't be prouder 😭😂

TOMAN BABYSITTING DAY BC KISAKI IS OUT OF THE OFFICE BUT HIS KID IS NOT- ASDFGHJKL JUST LIKE HOME ALONE LEVEL CRAP OF RIDICULOUS BUT IT'S A BUNCH OF MURDERS AND MONEY HUNGRY GANG MEN VS ONE CHILD 😭

Uncles Koko and Inui are just....a disaster tag team. Inui wants to be the kids favorite so bad but all Kisaki's daughter does is call him weird while idolizing Koko. Who thinks "kids" is catching and lord knows he's trying to peel this child off him that is utterly in love with him almost as much as Sanzu but Koko can't do anything he's the only one that makes this kid smile and now he's stuck as bait if they can't find Sanzu

Uncle Sanzu who spends 90% of the time hiding in the cupboards from this kid who's in love with him. He isn't even scared of Kisaki technically. This kid is 100% worse than where it spawned from as your daughter rips opens cupboards and closets to find Sanzu. And upon always finding him she screams something like "My prince!!" And Sanzu is trying to scramble away like a skittering dog until he runs into Mikey who forces him to sit on his ass and marry the little girl so she doesn't cry. Of course wedding officiated by uncle Muto or Hakkai or something.

Stopping to scream laugh at the knitting though bc i can so vividly see it?? Everyone in Toman is wearing an ugly sweater some part of December. They're too scared to say anything bc these are god level ugly. Hanma thinks they're the best fucking things on earth. God damn ugly sweaters abound and pool noodle of a man is wearing fucking dress pants and dress shoes with an ugly knitted "Kiss Santa" sweater Kisaki made three years ago when there was a yarn sale at Kisaki's favorite craft store and that year everyone got sweaters. Now it's mandatory to wear them to most of the meetings in the month of December. Which frankly it then comes up in the official meeting of Kisaki asking the members "What are you getting the love of my life this year for Christmas?" Everyone gets confused bc they think he means you, until Kisaki shakes his head and then goes into detail about a list of things his daughter has and what he's getting her and the other mandatory ideas that Toman much pick one of to get the princess for Christmas. Man and child are terrorist running a terror group i swear 😂😭

ASDFGHJKL IDK IF YOU WATCHED THE OWL HOUSE EPISODE TODAY YET BUT LEMME JUST SAY I'M FROTHING. I'M TUCKING HUNTER IN MY SHIRT. NEVER LETTING HIM OUT. MAKING HIM SOUP, PETTING HIS HAIR AND KISSING HIS NOSE. I'LL KILL BELSO OR ANYONE ELSE WHO TOUCHES HIM

#between the tokyorev leaks #and todays episode of the owl house #im gushing and sliding and frothing and salivating and dragging myself over everything #the way i jittered in bed over hanma #woke up and scrolled over to see him and #and and and and #INCOHERENT PTERADACLY SCREAMING #i literally only love hanma #will sell everyone else for his safety idc #rindou mitsuya hakkai wakasa shion #nothing but flings in comparison to my feelings for that stupid tall man #he's stupid i hate him i hate him so much #im not vibrating in my skin for that man i hate him i just-#oh god #i can't #he looks so good in the kanto outfit and anything he wears and why is he not everyones favorite Dx #if something happens to my stupid lazy husband i'll go on a murder spree #only in this stupid fandom for hanma istg #once hes out im out #🌌.♡#three.talks

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komekoro · 27 days ago

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Here is how I would break this down.

First, find how much and when all of your non-negotiable bills are. Rent, utilities, internet, car payments, credit card or student loan payments, insurance, etc. (I see how you are looking for public transportation, but want this to be apply to as many as possible). Put those on a calendar that just has 1st through 31st.

Next, find your other bills. Streaming services, Patreon, other subscriptions that you definitely want to keep and do the same thing. If you find anything here that you forgot you subscribe to or find that you really don’t use anymore, you could cancel them now.

Now budget in other bills that you have pay but aren’t bills per se. Things like groceries, gas for your vehicle, things like that.

See where you are at with your expenses per paycheck. If you are already saving, note where in the month and how much you save as well.

Now, take a look at the things that keep you sane that aren’t in these categories. Things like coffee, hanging out with friends for lunch at that little cafe down the street, whatever. Guesstimate how much those run for how often you do it.

Last, take a look at your bank statements and see where else you spend money. Things like coins for mobile games, amazon impulse purchases, etc. we want to see where all the money is going.

Now that you have an idea about how you spend money, look at your cash flow. Is one part of the month tight and the other part more financially flexible? Are both/all parts more equal? It may be better to save $100 all in one paycheck later in the month than equally take $50 out of each paycheck, for example, if too many non- negotiable expenses take place at the beginning of the month.

Now that you can kinda place everything in a month, this is where you start looking at your extra money, seeing how much you can put away, where you can spend less, and how much to budget for sanity spending. Craft stores, kindle books, and mobile games are my weakness, so I make sure I stay within my budget, but also that I have a budget for them. Because if I just cut that out completely, at some point I will get stressed and spend money that I shouldn’t. Give yourself some money to spend on fun stuff. I saved up to move almost 2,000 miles away. I needed a good amount of money. I cancelled subscriptions, looked at my grocery bill and bought less snacks, cut my new clothing budget down quite a bit(less to pack later). BUT I left room in my budget to eat out at least once a week, buy a new ebook weekly, and buy yarn at the craft store once a month for my knitting and crocheting hobbies. Because otherwise I would feel like I was cutting back too far, then would get stress and stress but feel good stuff at the mall right next to work on my way home, or got to the bougie yarn stores and spend $$$.

If you want to save serious money, see when your goal is, then break down that money by year, then by month. If you want 30k€ in 7 years, that’s roughly 360€ per month. Once you finish paying off your debts like you want, keep paying your savings that same amount as you are currently paying to those companies. So, it may be that you can only save , for example, 100€ per month right now, because you are paying 400€/month towards paying off debt. But in two years once those debts are paid, that’s 500€/month you are saving now, instead of the 100€.

And if you can, once you have saved up 300-500€, open a separate savings account for this money. That way you know exactly how much you have saved and where your goal is at. But most accounts, at least where I’m at, do have a minimum balance or they will start taking maintenance fees, so maybe look around, see who has less fees and better interest rates, and just plan on parking your money there once you have above the minimum. And bonus points if it’s at a different place than at your normal bank account so it’s harder to access funds and less prone to impulse spending.

@saaraahka if you have any questions about particulars, feel free to dm me.

Source: I’m a bookkeeper professionally and my parents were both in finance. I know what to do, even if my adhd makes personally following a budget hard.

Sooo if im ever going to be able to buy a house..

I need to be debt free, 1-2 years fingers crossed. And I'll need to have 15% of the price of the house in cash to get a mortgage. So minimum something like 30k€ in my area (and any area close to public transportand workplaces). Maybe doable in 3-5 years (so 7 in total) if I continue to have a job and don't treat myself with anything fun like travel, new phone, food other tham basic and stuff like that.

Soo how do I break this down in like realistic achievable short term goals while also not idk break down completely?

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theficpusher · 4 years ago

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curiosity, kitten by 1000_directions | T | 1328 “I don’t like cats,” Louis says, frowning at the five different cooking competition shows in their Netflix queue. Bucky definitely added that shit. He deletes all but one of them out of spite. “I didn’t like dogs,” Bucky reminds him, “but I got over that. You’ll like this guy, Lou. He’s so cute and little.” “Sounds stupid,” Louis says. “Get us something cool. Let’s get a snake.” “We can get a snake, but we are also getting this cat,” Bucky says. “I’m not leaving him here. He’s asleep in my lap right now, and his ears are wiggling for no reason, and I love him.”

sat with the echoes by BeforeEternity | T | 3219 A short fic about navigating the world as someone who has, for all intents and purposes, recovered from an eating disorder. There’s a cat too.

Are You Missing Underwear? by grapenight | G | 4093 Are You Missing Underwear? Just to keep things brief, my cat has stolen a large amount of socks and underwear from a neighbor. I am very sorry. I live on Cherry Street. If these are your clothes, please call 112-358-1321 I promise I will give them back, I wasn't the one who wanted them, it was my asshole cat. Or, Harry's cat frequently steals Louis' underwear.

sweater paws by hattalove | T | 6585 In retrospect, Louis should have grabbed the yarn and run. also known as the classic tale of Louis's struggle with a hippie boyfriend, a ginger cat, and a lot of wool.

Olivia by haloeverlasting | nr | 7915 There was no rhyme or reason to Louis’ disdain for cats. Harry hadn’t even heard him explicitly say he hated them, but his tone had said it all. He was completely dismissive of cats. This could only lead Harry to one reasonable conclusion. Louis can never meet Olivia. Harry has a cat. Louis thinks he has a secret husband. It's as ridiculous as it sounds.

show me how by wallstracktwo | M | 11000 When Louis is hired to take care of the prince's cats, it comes at the perfect time - his life is in ruins and he's been feeling down and out. He thinks it'll be fun and easy money. How much trouble could a couple of cats actually get into? But it's not only the cats bringing chaos and disruption into Louis' life - it's also the prince.

start me over by camiii | E | 44104 "Nick’s funny when he’s not being a knob, and has good taste in music and Louis really likes his hands. Not to mention that he’s tall, tall enough to have made Louis spend a minute or two imagining what it would be like to have Nick pin him to a flat surface and snog him senseless. The only thing keeping him from a full grown crush at this point is sheer will and the threat of humiliation. So, Nick’s a dickhead but unfortunately Louis is kind of into that."

i must admit i thought i'd like to make you mine by disgruntledkittenface | M | 50645 Louis fell apart when her ex broke up with her and moved across the country. Just as she’s starting to move on, Zayn comes back to town for their mutual friends’ wedding – with a new girlfriend as her plus one. Blindsided and scrambling to save face, Louis lets herself get talked into a fake relationship with her new friend Harry. Their arrangement makes Louis feel pathetic and embarrassed, but it’s only going to last a few weeks. She just has to get through the wedding – what could happen?

Emperor's New Clothes by sunsetmog | E | 92072 The fact that Louis’s most precious belonging was a cat with a face like thunder and an uncanny ability to cover every single inch of Louis’s clothing with cat hair was something that Louis chose not to think about too much. or: Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.

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peralta-guaranteed · 4 years ago

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Family day playing hooky hc

(this turned into another fic. Apparently I don't make the rules anymore)

Read on AO3

It's the beginning of a long summer. Both kids are home - well, not really, since Amy has signed them up for several activities all around the city. Today is arts & crafts time at the children's library wing, Jake notes as he checks their shared calendar before the morning meeting. But they are home, insofar as Mac's school is closed for the summer holidays, and so's Maya's kindergarten. They drop them off at their daily activity in the morning, and the rest of the time they're at his mom's, who's been happily overfeeding them and entertaining them as the proud grandma she is. Or they drop them off at Gramma Peralta’s first, and she drives them to whatever place they were signed up at. It's a pretty good routine, and he's proud of Amy having found so many things for them to do that seem right up their alley, judging from their excited stories during dinner and the ever growing collection of handmade gifts on their living room shelves.

But they're home for the summer, and Jake and Amy have to sit at the sweltering precinct, slogging through paperwork and a dull week of almost no new cases. It's really not fair, Jake thinks. He remembers his summer days with Gina, when Nana would hand them both a couple of dollars and tell them not to be home until sunset at least. They can’t do that, obviously - Mac and Maya are still too young, and Brooklyn has definitely not gotten any safer since his early teens, when it was already questionably sketchy for him and Gina to stalk around the neighbourhoods and buy cheap ice cream and soda at random bodegas. He also remembers those few rare days when his mom would get a day off that did not need to be spent on catching up on housework, or when his dad would finally show up for more than one day and they could plan a little trip (which would actually take place at least 50% of the time). He remembers the aquarium and the zoo and the natural history museum and Central Park and Coney Island.

And they could absolutely do that, he realises, so the decision is pretty much made before he’s even set his bag down at his desk. But he’s patient enough to wait through the morning meeting - blessedly short, because nothing new has come up anyway, and they’re all told to finish up the paperwork and start on re-organising the evidence room. Jake supposes it’s a generally good thing that crime seems to slow down in the summer heat a little, but that’s not really why he’s so happy right now hearing the captain tell them to ‘find something to do anywhere’. He certainly knows what he wants to do already.

Amy’s morning meeting must’ve been just as short, because she’s already at her desk when he jumps down the last steps of the stairwell to her floor. Her uniformed officers mostly give him a quick nod or smile as he passes - it’s not a rare thing to see Detective Peralta come by to visit his wife outside of break times.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” He smiles at her, and she rolls her eyes with fondness. The title is still pretty new, and he loves to remind her of it any chance he gets.

“Hey babe. We’re not due for lunch for another 4 hours, you know that, right?”

“Yeah there’s no way I’m waiting that long.” He’s still smiling wide, and when she looks up from whatever paper she’s been filling out, she instantly recognises that mischievous glint in his eye.

“What are you planning?”

“Let’s bail the kids out of the library and go somewhere fun. Coney Island? It’s all open since last saturday I think.”

“We have to work, Jake.” Amy levels him with one of those ‘please be a grown-up’ looks, but she knows they seldom get results.

“Do we, Ames? Do we really? Because Holt has us organising the evidence room. I have literally zero open cases on my desk. And how far ahead are you with all your paperwork and organisation?”

She looks sheepishly at the very small stack of papers on her desk.

“About two weeks, I’d say.”

“And you’re saying we can’t take one day off? Just one day of family time? Getting cotton candy and taking Mac on an actual roller coaster now that he’s tall enough and winning a new teddy for Maya because you’re an ace at the fake shooting range?” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, and Amy stifles a snicker. It’s too bad her husband knows exactly how to win her over for most of his childish endeavours.

“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to take some personal time right now. We’d still have to convince Holt-”

“On it.” Jake slaps her desk in excitement as he gets up, ready to race upstairs and sweet-talk Holt into giving them the day off (or rather, annoy him into it). Only Amy Santiago would request permission from her boss to play hooky, of course, but there’s no way he’s not going to indulge her.

It’s not even fifteen minutes later that he’s back downstairs, his bag already on his shoulder, almost pulling her out of her chair.

“Got the go-ahead, so let’s go!”

“Give me five minutes at least to brief Gary, and change out of my uniform before I leave.”

He sighs and thrums his fingers across his thigh, but obediently watches her talk to her ‘own Amy’, eagerly taking notes about the few things they actually have to remember to do. He refrains from pushing her forwards by the shoulders as she heads to the locker room, deciding to pack up her purse instead (he knows the layout perfectly by now - the calendar and pen goes next to the baby wipes, and the glasses case has to be by the little box of healthy, kid-friendly snacks). But the moment she returns in one of her signature flowery blouses, he grabs her hand and drags her out of the precinct so fast she can barely protest.

-+-

The drive to the library is equally as quick. Amy only manages to slow him down once they step into the actual building, reminding him of the library rules of being quiet and calm.

“Lieutenant Santiago!” The librarian behind the desk greets her - she’s well-known around these parts, obviously. “Back so early? Isn’t your mother-in-law picking up the kids later?”

He should probably call her to tell her about the change of plans, Jake thinks as Amy explains and asks if it’s possible to get Mac and Maya packed up and ready to leave already.

It’s absolutely possible, of course, and Maya proudly shows them the pipe cleaner and yarn figurine she’d just finished making as the kids librarian leads them out to the main floor. Mac, a few feet behind her, seems wary as he hugs them hello.

“Did something happen?” He asks into the hug, quietly, and Jake remembers with a twinge in his heart that the last time someone picked him up unexpectedly early from football practice, it was aunt Rosa, taking him and Maya to the precinct until Amy brought Jake back from hospital after getting knifed by a perp.

“No, buddy, this is a good surprise.” He hugs him back extra tight, ruffling his hair for good measure, and silently cursing his line of work being so shit sometimes.

Mac smiles back at him, luckily, but there is still a bit of hesitation in his eyes, and Jake’s excitement about his own idea of playing hooky falters for the first time. Maybe they should’ve just let the kids enjoy their crafts and grandma-time, and planned a proper day out for the weekend-

“Grandpa Holt gave us today off.” Amy explains as she steps up to the two of them with Maya by her side, and that title still sounds a little weird even years later. “So we thought we could all go out for a fun day at Coney Island!”

The squeal Maya lets out certainly changes Mac’s smile for the better, even as it is quickly shushed down (they’re still in the library after all!), and they’re soon dragged outside to the car by their kids the same way Jake had dragged Amy out of the precinct.

“C’n we get hotdogs?” Maya asks as she clicks her seatbelt closed and Amy smiles at her through the rearview mirror.

“We sure can!”

“Can we go on all the rides?” Mac joins in, and Jake is glad to see there’s absolutely no hesitation on his face anymore.

“All the ones you’re old enough for, sure.”

The questions and cheers and excited chatter keep up during the whole drive, even as Amy calls Karen and barely gets a word in, between the happy interruptions shouted from the backseat, and it takes a lot more to actually keep them together as they step on the boardwalk, Maya already running left to some game parlour while Mac races on ahead to the first ride he sees.

-+-

The rest of the day does not slow down in their whirlwind. Mac decides after three roller coasters that maybe he’s had enough (and Jake is glad they didn’t go through the food stalls before it), but he spins Maya around in the teacups ride like only an older brother could. The ice cream after is well deserved, seeing how sweaty and exhausted they are already, and gives them more than enough energy to hit literally every game they can see. Jake can watch Amy calculating the vast amount of money they’re spending in tokens, but she’s also the first one in line once they reach the toy-shooting range, winning Maya a unicorn plushie and Mac a knock-off superb-man figurine (his wife is a goddamn sharpshooter and he’d be lying if that wasn’t a turn-on). The third shot earns him a wacky pair of sunglasses that make both Amy and Maya giggle in that way he loves the most, and he refuses to take them off for any of the silly pictures they take in front of cutouts, wall art and weird statues.

He’s pushed them up into his hair by the time they get hotdogs (3 for him, 2 for Mac, one each for Amy and Maya), because the sun is already starting to set and he can barely see. Maya begins to shiver as they stroll down the quieter parts of the boardwalk, so he buys her one of those kitschy animal-hoodies all the stalls are touting (they know their clientele too well), and of course Mac immediately needs one too, so now there’s a tiny tiger and a slightly larger dragon running in front of them with cotton candy sticking all over their hands and faces.

Amy slides her arm around his waist as they slow their steps a little to let the kids go ahead, and he lays his across her shoulder as she leans into him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had more fun playing hooky.” She mumbles, and Jake laughs for a second.

“Amy Santiago, are you telling me you’ve played hooky before? I am shocked. Here I thought I’d married an upstanding girl.”

He gets a soft punch to his side for that before she leans back and whispers.

“Actually, you’ve made me play hooky before, remember? But we didn’t exactly go to an ‘amusement park’…”

“And yet you’re saying this has been more fun. I see where I stand.” He pouts before grinning again, and leans down for a soft kiss. (He definitely remembers the last time they played hooky now.)

“Sorry, babe.” Amy smiles as she looks at Mac and Maya again, currently busy chasing each other and dueling with the sticks left over from their cotton candy. “But this has been such a great day.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna make for one hell of a memory, I hope.” He follows her eyes forward, thinking about that short moment with Mac at the library earlier today. Amy hadn’t heard it, he’s sure, but the look on her face as she pulls him to look at her with a hand on his cheek tells him she knows his thoughts well enough.

“Hey. No sad thinking allowed on such a fun day, okay? We had a great time today and we’re gonna have so many more great days in the future.” She’s still smiling, swiping her thumb across his bottom lip, where he’s sure some cotton candy is still left clinging. “We could take them to the zoo next week.”

“Santiago!” He gasps again. “Are you insinuating-”

“On the weekend.” She leans up to kiss away the last bit of sugar on his mouth. “Like the upstanding girl you married would do, obviously.”

He laughs into the kiss even as he pulls her closer, and it’s only Mac and Maya, running back to them with news of another stand they’ve discovered selling funnel cakes, that makes them break apart again.

-+-

Later, after Jake’s carried a sleepy Maya up to their apartment, and she and Mac have barely had enough energy left in them to brush their teeth and wash their faces free from all the grime and sugar that’s covering it, he falls down on the couch as Amy checks on them one more time to see both fast asleep before the lights are even out.

“Do you feel as tired as the kids?” She says in her deep, sing-song voice that sends goosebumps up his spine, just as much as her hand raking through his hair does as she stands behind the couch.

“Well, it’s been a pretty long day. But I do have more sugar in my system to keep me running, I guess.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but then she leans down to nip on his ear and ‘nonchalance’ is the last thing he’s thinking of.

“Then how about we save time between now and bed by showering together?” She whispers, and he lets his head drop back to actually look at her.

“We have never saved time in the shower together, babe.”

She only smiles at him while humming an M-hm before heading for the bathroom, and he definitely doesn’t waste any time following her.

#b99 #brooklyn 99 #peraltiago #amy santiago #jake peralta #mac peralta #maya peralta #fic #my writing

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