#I’m trying to quit nicotine anyway

[rachiller]

My housemate will be like oh I feel bad for asking you to give me this thing all the time and I don’t know how to tell her that in my bones I am a giver and get a sick pleasure from offering up everything all the time. And that at least this is something that I don’t suffer for giving away

[suguann]

✎. he’s nice. well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, simon is an excon, non-linear narrative for future chapters [18+ only]

part one | part two

He’s always been a little obsessed with pretty things, even as a child.

It only makes sense that the habit would follow him into adulthood.

He sees you once while he’s walking by the bus stop. A timid thing wrapped up in an oversized sweater and parka coat, not looking up from the little book in your lap until the bus stops before you and takes you away.

The next time he sees you, he makes sure to come a few minutes earlier, lighting a cigarette and keeping his distance while he watches you read the same book from the day before. Simon knows it’s you, the girl from the letters, even if it’s a big city. It has to be—his pretty, lonely, silly girl.

He thinks about walking up to you just to make sure, but he doesn’t really need to. The address on the envelope brought him here, and you’re the only one he’s seen wearing a university sweater in this neighborhood.

But when he hesitates too long, a boy starts talking to you, and he watches you smile at somebody else.

Simon runs his thumb over his bottom lip and takes a deep breath to fill his chest with the soothing feeling of menthol and the burning taste of nicotine, trying to relax his white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel. 

You’ll learn, he thinks, when the bus drives off, and the boy doesn’t follow you on. He’s a patient man—it’s possibly one of his finer qualities.

He lets his car idle as he climbs out before crushing his cigarette bud underneath his shoe, straightening his black tie, and crossing the street. The boy sees him and freezes, but Simon can only laugh, wiping blood off his cheek several seconds later.

You’ll learn.

He’s nice.

Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you. But nice, you've learned, can mean any number of things: a nice laugh, a nice house, a nice job, et cetera.

But how he holds himself—tall, broad, and dangerous—hardly screams nice.

It’s funny because you don’t remember seeing him around the office before—the company, including IT, occupies only four floors in the building. 

Someone tells you he’s a friend of a friend. This initially sounds odd until Rose, the office gossip, says he’s someone rich who helps fund the company's social events. Hence, the crisp suit and the wide berth of space you’d give someone who wields their smile like a weapon. 

You quickly look away twice when you find that smile aimed at you, heat traveling up to your hairline at an alarming rate.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not your type. 

“Enjoying the party?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice so close to your ear. Careful not to spill your drink, you turn your head to find him smiling down at you with a sharp curl of his mouth.

Then he’s in front of you, eyes dark and crinkling in the corners.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not bad, though,” you squeak nervously when you realize you haven’t answered him. “It’s different from what I’m used to.”

He raises an amused brow. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He’s intimidating up close, and you take a small sip of your drink to ease your nerves. “Well, no kegs or trashy music playing, and boys with egos bigger than the room.”

The man lets out a low chuckle as he considers your honest reply, and you swear you see something ripple across his features, but when you blink, it’s gone. “I suppose that differs from top-shelf liquor and live bands, huh? Which is better?”

You shrug. “Well, it depends on who you ask.” 

“I’m asking you.”

“Honest answer?” 

He nods. 

“Neither. I don’t really care for parties.”

“Then it’s quite unfortunate that you found yourself at one tonight.” He seems privately amused, in on a joke you have no part of. Then he says, “You want to get out of here?”

“I probably shouldn’t follow a stranger home,” you tell him bashfully.

“That’s very responsible of you. Then how about I get you a drink? There’s a hotel across the street, and the bar’s not shit.”

You bite your lip, and his big, warm hand is on the small of your back before you say anything. It must’ve been written all over your face like he knew you would say yes.

He’s ever the gentleman, unlike most boys your age. Though, perhaps that’s the difference. He isn’t a boy—nothing about him can hardly be described as such. This fact becomes a bit overwhelming and more evident once he has you on your back, thighs nearly up to your ears, and held in place by a firm, intricately tattooed forearm.

His smile—almost too sharp to be nice—makes your chest do this silly thing when he says, “Let’s play a game.” 

You whisper into the night air. “What kind of game?”

“It’s simple. You tell me yes or no.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of the rules of the game. “But—”

The slap against your cunt isn’t harsh, but it’s the suddenness of it, how no one has ever thought to touch you like that, is what makes you squeak and tremble underneath him—the rings on his fingers sharpening the sting—trying to scurry up the bed, but hindered by his iron grip.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yes.”

“There’s a girl,” and then his fingertips drop down to where you're slippery-wet and sensitive, moving in hard, tight circles until you're clenching down on a curse between your teeth. "Messy little cunt."

It's too much, you think when he plugs two fingers (feeling like three of your own) into your pussy. The muscles in his shoulders roll as he shoves his fingers in and out, batting your hands away when you try to get him to slow down. Too much, too—

“It’s not. I want you to cum like this,” he says, teasing, nudging your clit with his thumb and swirling it in tight spit-slick circles; you have no choice but to chase that bright light feeling until you cum, sticky and sweaty. 

Just like he promised you would, your orgasm is a shivery thing, molten heat, incandescent, settling in your veins until it pours out of you like liquid wax against the scratchy hotel sheets, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his fingers curl up and press into where you’re soft and tender.

He smiles. “This is fun, isn’t it, love?”

“I can’t,” you whimper, not exactly answering him. “No more, please.”

His eyes, already pupil-fat, go dark at hearing you beg, nostrils flaring. Please, the key for the small amount of mercy he grants you as he replaces his fingers with his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit and lightly sucking it into his mouth. His lips are just there, and then they’re gone.

“Say it again.”

Your response is a wet little hiccup at the back of your throat. “W-what?”

“Beg me.”

“Please.”

“Again,” he says one more time.

“Please, please, please…”

It’s all you can think to say, strung between that dreamy space and reality, that you don’t even notice him flipping you onto your tummy with ease, not until the light in the room is blotted out as he leans over you. He wraps a hand into the scruff of your neck and presses your face into the bed, the other tucked under your hips to keep them at the right angle—held down with nowhere to go.

He leaves biting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck—Simon—he manages to tell you his name from one little bruise to the next. Somewhere between the buzz in your ears, you hear him telling you that he wants you to moan it for him, nice and loud.

The haze clears a little, however, at the metal clink of a belt and the sound of a zipper coming undone before you feel his cock prodding you open—raw, without a condom.

“There you go. Lay there, and just—just give me what I fucking want,” Simon rasps as if you could actually move with his hands pinning you in place. 

There are many things you should feel: scared of his words, trapped by the rings digging into tender flesh, by his thighs forcefully pushing yours apart. The red flags look more like flashing lights at this point.

Instead, you feel wanted—your walls tighten around his cock, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, letting him turn you inside out. A small smile buried into the pillow.

[onlycrumbss]

I wanna post some health and appearance tips because I seen someone else on my tumblr do it.

These are actually mind blowing tips that I’ve tried and tested, actually have science behind them, and make the overall process much easier, i may not have alot of followed and it’s pretty long but please read because these are actually some revolutionary tips like the type of tips that people gatekeep. But that’s not me

Some of these products might be expensive/out if the way I’m sorry, I’m 19 and live alone have been working full time since I was young. I don’t have tips for hiding anything though since I live alone and when I was at home my family never really cared anyways these are mainly tips on how to upkeep your looks while restricting so that way you can look healthy while getting skinny, but I do have some prouducts that will raise less suspicion for anyone who lives at home still.

✨ Tried and tested ✨

Hair~

Hair breaks when you’ve been restricting for a long time but these products have really helped and now I don’t have split ends. Their fine hair friendly as well, just remember shampoo your roots and only condition and oil your ends

Olaplex conditioner and the Olaplex hair oil

shea moisture Manuka honey and manfura oil intensive conditioner

Amika soulfood deep conditioner

Any shampoo with rosemary (makes your hair thicker and has been proven to be as effective as rogaine)

Tessa peays (you can find her on tiktok and YouTube) hair oil recipe and hair oil routine

Body care~

Skin gets really dry sooo

Olay body washes (literally any kind will work their so hydrating, they have a niacinimide one which works to brighten up your skin)

Any lotion with Vaseline in it (Vaseline will lock all moisture in and is the most effective humectant on the market. I don’t recommend using straight Vaseline Vaseline though because that will get all stick, just use a Vaseline brand lotion)

Body scrub once a week

Skincare~

Moisturizer. When your restricting you need to invest in a moisturizer, keep your skin hydrated

Sheet masks 1x a week. I like to use ones that are specifically food themed cuz in my head it’s giving my skin the nutrients I don’t wanna give to myself

My favorite kinds are: the tony Molly “I am-“ ones. Mediheal placenta sheet mask (my skin litterally glows after the placenta one) innisfree honey sleeping mask

I don’t recommend doing diy skincare but the only thing I will ever recommend along the lines of diy skincare is a honey and avacado face mask, makes my skin so hydrated and plump

Foods~

(Some of these might be a fear food for alot and can be a little calorie dense but they help with your appearance)

Berries: especially blueberries and strawberries (have highest antioxidants, which help your apperance)

Cherry and pomegranate juice (antioxidant thing I mentioned above)

Avacados and chia seeds (kinda high in calories I know! But they have lots of omegas and healthy fats and chia seeds are full of omegas and proteins, these will keep your skin dewy and keep your hair nice, chia seeds will also keep you feeling fuller for longer and are a natural laxative)

Eggs: protien+good for your hair

Health in general+ weight~

Quit nicotine. I know that nicotine is like a staple in our community and I myself and on my journey of trying to quitting smoking but after years it catches up to you, and it causes acne. If your not eating your body isn’t going to put that nutrients to upkeeping your face, I already have faint smokers lines around my lips. plus it makes working out easier

(If ur a girl/have female parts) you need to get a probiotic in and get regularly tested for bv and ye⭐️ast infections. You will be prone to bv and yeast “imbalances” while starving and they can cause a lot of problems from stomach bloating to lack of desire and pain and a lot of times are asymptomatic. This happened to me and caused alot of mental anguish because the pain made me question my gender identity and the bloating made the mental aspect of my e d worse and I didn’t even have any symptoms

Don’t use miralax, it’s really bad for you. Drink senna tea, it’s less suspicious and actually works faster and better than laxatives. Plus it doesn’t destroy your organs like miralax

Don’t use trendy diet pills. If your going to take anything get “Garcinia Cambodia” supplement and take it with an apple cider vinegar supplement. Get the acv pills instead of drinking actual acv becsuse it’s better on your teeth (have to be taken together, a study was done on this combination plus it’s been really helping me)

Fast instead of ⭐️ve: I’m not going to get too deep into the science of it all because I’m bad with my words and explaining but basically when your restricting I t’s actually more harmful to your metabolism, makes you crave more food and makes your hungrier making everything harder because that’s what actually puts your body into starvation mode is a constant input of extremely few calories. When your fasting your body goes into “modes” that are actually benifical to your body,metabolism, cravings and feelings of hunger. When you focus more on not eating anything for a long period of time (fasting) vs “I can only have x calories today so I’m gonna eat x and x and x” -(restricting), you’ll find it makes you not only loose weight faster but also make it feel easier

Which is why I see a lot of ppl on here say things like “I can fast so easily but restricting is so hard” well that’s because there’s literally a science to it. And a little secret, after you do general fasting a few days (not for days straight but more so one meal a day like 24 hour fasts and 16+odd hour fasts) it gets easy. It is litterallt so much easier than plain restricting

Take collegen supplements if it’s something your not afraid of because their very good for supple skin and also for hair as well recent studies and random experiments I’ve seen on YouTube have shown

Take biotin~ for your hair

Drink “sparkling ice” drinks. They 5 Cals and have vitamin B’s which are good for your metabolism

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will be adding anytning I might’ve forgotten becayse I kinda rushed this because I rlly wanted to share all of these with everyone in the community after I got inspiration from the post I saw earlier. Feel free to comment or dm me any questions about the products and the sciences

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷ now playing

Icarus: You mind?

Frances: Nope. I’m pretty sure my whole friend group has a nicotine addiction.

Icarus: I’m trying to quit.

Frances: Ah, see, that’s what they all say.

Icarus: [ snorts ]

-

Icarus: Hey, are you doing alright? You’ve been a bit quiet all night. Frances? Woah- [ whispers ] We really shouldn’t.

Frances: No, yeah. Totally. We should go now. [ clears throat ] I have some things I need to take care of in the morning anyways.

[dragonslayer-5fanfiction]

Shiratorizawa x Manager who smokes

Here is the Headcannon/blurb about Shiratorizawa x manager reader who smokes and is trying to stop

CW: smoking, cigarettes, nicotine,

they would all be very supportive of you

Tendou would carry any type of gum you like to chew to help with the taste/smell

i think that at first Ushijima tells you that it is unhealthy and sends you articles about it

you thank him and tell him that you this already but appreciate the thought

i don’t think that they push you into quitting but when/if you decide to quit they are there for you

i definitely hc Semi a someone who uses nicotine patches/gum

When you so smoke you go outside the gym and Goshiki, the kind soul he is doesn’t want you to be alone so he comes outside with you

he doesn't stand on the other side of the door but he he chatters your ear off off, and honestly it's so cute

he's like your little bestie

now let's say you decide to quit 

i’m gonna be honest with you it’s going to be rough while you're doing this

you wanted to do this yourself you wanted to prove to yourself that could do this

Now you're like day three and this is tough

you’re late to practise and my goodness everything was aggravating you

you’re upset, anxious, your heart is beating fast, you’re restless, i mean honestly you’re just a mess

you’re multitasking, writing stuff down, listening to coach when Goshiki comes up to ask you a question

‘i don't know ‘tomu, figure it out for yourself or ask someone else'

cue his eyes watering and tears threatening to spill over

he asks why you yelled at him

now you feel like a butthead, but the truth comes out

you tell him (and the rest of the team that is listening) that you're trying to quit smoking

It's like a quiet uproar, they are shocked, pleased, surprised

Ushijima is quite pleased and immediately offers a workout regimen and other things to distract you 

Tendou basically opens his trench coat to a variety of gum types including nicotine and black black gum

this is where semi gets his stash of gum, and why they’re besties

anyways they all voice their support for you as you’re going through this

they are definitely understanding and as you get over the withdraw hump, they are kind of walking on eggshells around you

Which you notice and you hate it, but you just don't know how else to get around this other than just going cold turkey and suffering through the withdrawal

once you get over that hump, you are in a better mindset, and definitely happier and less restless

then things go back to normal and ya’ll are besties again

however when they know that things are stressful for you like finals, or big tournaments, then they are prepared

honestly Tendou is uber prepared he has everything you need, and is like a pro at redirection and distraction

Ushijima is like the firm hand you need that is just like -_- no

Reon, Yamagata, are there to banter with you and gossip like the aunties

Shirabu is just there in the background, but before you quit he would definitely try to hide the cigs from you, he seems like a shithead

and Goshiki is just there he follows you around like a puppy and honestly he misses the time he would spend outside with you, so he is always trying to be around you to get that time

you have to explain to him that you quitting is a good thing, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to talk to him

anyways back to the program, they would be all ready to help you through the stressful times like Tendou and semi give them all a pep talk and give them their different assignments

once you are successfully off of the cigarettes they throw you a little party with a cake that has the no smoking sign on it

overall they are a super supportive team and just want the best for you, even if it’s on your terms

[1-helluva-hazbin]

Always Something Underneath

Chapter 2 - A Taste of Peppermint

Lucifer x Fem!reader (prostitute character w/ accent)

Content warning: slow burn, talk of smoking, writing an accent, no proofread

Chapter Summary: You and Lucifer end up having a drink together when he shows up to the hotel and Charlie is out.

Word Count: 2748

Chapter 1 𖤐 Chapter 2 (You are Here) 𖤐 Chapter 3 𖤐 Chapter 4 𖤐 Chapter 5 (WIP)

The hotel bar was quiet tonight. As you entered the usually bustling hotel after having finished the couple of scheduled clients at the brothel, only to be met with a calm serenity, it was unsettling. It made you question if you were in the wrong place. You made your way over to the bar taking a seat. It was just you perched on a barstool at one end of the bar, Husk behind it closer to you, and another already severely intoxicated resident, who had their head down on the bar, at the other end.

“Hey Husk, where the heck is everybawdy ta’night?” you ask motioning with a sweep of an arm towards the empty expanse of the lobby. “It’s kinda weird.”

Husk looked towards you, from what appeared to be him taking inventory behind the bar, and shrugged. “Don’t know. I heard Charlie say something about bonding. Everyone needs to stop asking me that fucking question though. I’m not here to monitor who comes and goes.”

You hum in response, amused at Husk’s dislike for being the one everyone goes too yet disappointed at hearing everyone was out. One of the downsides of working while residing here was that you did occasionally miss out on the evening activities that Charlie organized. Not that you were personally willing to quit to attend them. It still left you feeling a little dejected. A trade off to ensuring your own financial stability. “You want something to drink?” Husk asked, noting you hadn’t headed off.

“A dirty shirley would be swell. When ya gawtta second that is.” You hear him mumble something along the lines of ‘you got it’ though he said it so low you weren’t totally sure. You sigh, as you twist in your seat so you’re facing the lobby. The idleness inciting the itch of a nicotine craving. You were trying to cut back and you had one on the walk home. Plus you didn’t want to go outside. Charlie had made it clear there should be no smoking in the hotel after you had already pushed your luck in your room.

Your hands wrung the edge of your skirt for a moment, before you put one hand up on the bar with your fingers to immediately begging to drum. Husk’s ear twitched and he glanced over as he whipped up your drink. “Quit it with the fingers. That’s annoying as shit.” he growled out, “Why the fuck you doing that anyway? You’re not usually one of the annoying ones.”

You ‘tsked’ the reprimand, your hand retreating to your lap once more. “Sorry Husk. I’m tryin’ ta quit smokin’ an’ I’m feel’in kinda antsy.”

“No shit.” he drawled, eyes locked onto you. “You actually believe this whole redemption bullshit don’t you?”

You shrug and lean back against the bar. “Believe it? Naw. I dun think it can hurt to try though. Bein’ slightly less shitty ain’t the worst thing ta be down here an if it werks I’d get’ta golden ticket. Not’ta bad trade off if ya ask me. If it werks that is.”

He scoffed, shaking his head just audibly muttering, “Nothing worse than being gullible down here…” He walked over sliding the drink next to your elbow. “I’ve heard in passing that eating sunflower seeds or pumpkin seeds can help. Not the cravings but, it keeps your hands busy or something.”

“Oooh yeah that could werk. That’s a good idea!” you spun around in your seat, acquiescing to his comment about gullibility. You hadn’t ever considered yourself gullible for trying this redemption thing out but, you could admit some might see it that way.

He grinned and went to make a further comment before the front doors burst open. The both of you turned to see Lucifer sauntering in loudly humming to himself, radiating excitement. “Ah! Husk! Where is Charlie!” he immediately called out from across the room ambling towards the bar.

He sighed as you pursed your lips holding back a giggle. “Out.” he growled, ears flat.

“They had’a group thing planned ta’night.” you add, hoping to ease some of Husk’s irritation while satisfying Lucifer. You leaned over towards the seat next to you and patted the cushion. “Join me for’a drink Luci babe! I’m sure we gotta ‘nuff time for one!”

“Oh! How, thoughtful!” he said, the genuine happiness sliding into a facade to mask his nervousness.

“I got’ta question for ya I’ve been meanin’ ta ask!”

He gritted his teeth and closed the distance between himself in the bar. “Do you now?”

“What do you want?” Husk asked, diverting the topic away from your question.

Lucifer blinked and let out a breathy laugh, “I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Here!” you push your drink towards Lucifer, “A dirty shirley don’t taste much like alcohol, especially the way Husk here makes ‘em but, just’ta be sure try mine. I haven’t drank out’ta it yet.”

“Oh well I wouldn’t want it going to waste if I don’t like it!” he exclaimed, pushing it back towards you.

“I’ll just drink it. No worries.” you shrug nonchalantly. His face twisted in disgust as you both stared at one another for a moment. “What?”

“You’d drink out of a glass someone else drank from?” he gasped out incredulously. 

You laugh out lightly, thinking him joking, his expression unwavering. “Oh, shit you’re serious. Lucifa, sweety, did you forget ‘bout my profession? The things I haf’ta do with this mouth?” Husk barked out a laugh, “You’d probably be one’a the cleanest beings I’ve ever swapped bloodily fluids with. Do I need ta paint a more vivid pic’ta for ya?”

Lucifer’s disgust settled deeper into his features as your spiel continued. By the end, he was beyond disturbed with any remanence of the arriving excitement vanquished. “No. Please don’t.”

“Perfect!” you push the drink towards him once more, “So you’ll try it an if ya don’ like it I’ll drink it. Husk can make ya somin’ else, like a mudslide.”

“I’m a bartender not a fucking mixologist. I’m not making a mudslide. We don’t have heavy cream anyways.” Husk huffed out.

You ‘tsk’ the cat again and counter, “A mudslide is hawdly a complex cawlktail, Husk.”

“I’m not fucking making it.” he bit back resolutely.

As the squabbling occurred, Lucifer tentatively took the dirty shirley, gingerly sipping it. He blinked at the flavors playing on his tongue, mostly sweet with only a slight hint of alcoholic bite. He took a slightly bigger sip and hummed an approval. “This isn’t half bad!”

You side eyed Husk, shelving the mudslide conversation momentarily, before turning back to Lucifer with a smile. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Drinkin’ can be enjoyable, ‘specially when it don’ tas’ like shit. Jus’ gotta find out what’cha like.”

“How does a mudslide compare to this?” Lucifer asked, his interest genuinely peaked.

“Don’t you fucking start.” Husk growled

Lucifer raised a brow at Husk as a shit eating grin spread across your face, “It depends on what’cha like or ya mood. A dirty shirley is more of a..light an bubbly refreshin’ drink. A mudslide tho’ is a heavia drink since it’s made with cream. Kinda like a thin’a chawcalate milk but with more of a cawffe flava. If ya get it made with a little chawcalate ‘round the rim or in tha cup tho,” you paused and let out a soft hum, “that’s the best.”

Husk was shooting daggers as you talked. Giving him your most saccharine smile you asked in cloying tone, “Can I get anotha shirley?” 

Husk rolled his eyes, grabbing another glass. “Stop. Bringing. Up. Mudslides.”

“I can’t promise that. I can promise I won’t bring it up or mention it ‘round Angel though. If I was a gambal’a I’d bet my next paycheck he’d lov’a good mudslide. ‘Specially, knowing how fawned of makin’ em you are.” Your eyebrows raised as you cocked your head, silently challenging him to strike up a better counteroffer; his continued bartending services in exchange for your silence.

Husk groaned, fatigued at the idea of Angel hounding him to make the drink if only to infuriate him. While they certainly were on good terms, Angel would never let a golden goose like this go; to torment someone in such a mundane yet grating way. Always the sort to love getting a reaction out of people. Husk relented, “You’re killing me.”

You let out a single victorious giggle glancing at Lucifer offhandedly, instantly shocked. He had nearly downed his first shirley as you two dickered. “You might nawt be the only one I kill. Holy hell Lucifa. Slow down. We gawt the whole damn night.”

Husk looked at the glass in the king’s hand and shook his head. He placed your replacement dirty shirley on the bar. Lucifer shrugged, nonchalantly dismissing your concern. “I can handle a single drink.”

The bartender and you glance at one another, both nodding in silent solidarity given Lucifer had admitted to not being a drinker. Husk returned to his inventory, not asking Lucifer if he wanted another, and you proceeded to distract the king from requesting a second. “How ‘bout my question now that I gotta drink?”

He nervously chuckled and placed his hand and cup down on the bar. “What’s the question?”

“I waz curious how your powas werked. Like, what all can ya do? You helped build the hotel obviously. You gawt that nifty portal trick. Somebawdy said somethin ‘bout you turnin’ inta animals?” you asked, scooting to the edge of your seat towards Lucifer.

“Oh!” he laughed out, most of the nerves dissipating. “That’s it? I was worried you were going to ask me something…more uh…” He saw you smirk, raising a brow before he quickly decided to omit the concerned topic continuing on, “...never mind. My powers! Curious about my powers. Well it is very mutli-facitied. Powers of creation and all. I can create just about anything I can imagine of course. I can turn into any animal ever created so that was true. Shape shifting in general is a cinch.”

Instantly, you were sitting next to an anteater, followed by a chameleon, a house cat, and lastly his signature animal a snake. The last shift was back into his normal self. “Then of course I have the ability of duplication. It’s sort of a branch of the creation.” he said suddenly in the seat behind you as well as in front. At that point, the two of them took turns naming off of the things they could do.

 “The portals like you said; to places real and imagined.”

“Hellfire, which isn’t something I use often.”

“Angelic blasts on the flip side of that.”

“There are also the powers of healing.” he said, the Lucifer behind you poofing out of existence. “I can’t revive those who are dead, though that doesn’t matter much down here since people just regenerate as part of the whole hell existence. If they’re still breathing though I could just patch ‘em right up!”

“Can you help an addict who’s trying to quit? Take their cravings away?” Husk piped up out of the blue, looking at Lucifer over his clipboard.

Lucifer blinked, pondering it but a moment. “If it’s a physical reaction I could help. It wouldn’t stop them from picking it back up out of habit though. Is Angel Dust trying to quit finally?”

“Fucking doubt it. Charlie and Vaggie have found basically all his spots but it only seems to slow him down. He still gets it at work. This one here though…” Husk said, motioning the clipboard towards you. 

Lucifer turned to look at you with a tilted head with a surprised look on his face. You laughed softly, the feeling of being caught in the limelight for something kinda good a little unsettling. “Aw shucks Husk, ya didn’t need ta bring it up. I just stawted so I’m only down a couple cigarellos. It’s nothin’ ta raise cain about.”

“Are you serious about it?” Lucifer asked. “Stopping?”

“Part of the program ain’t it?” you smile finally sipping from your drink. “Gotta find betta copin’ mechanisms an awll that when I’m stressed out. Plus it ain’t great for ya. Husk mentioned eatin’ pumpkin seeds or sunflower seeds to help which I’m gonna’ try.”

“Well that’s…commendable.” he said, nodding slowly, his eyes locked onto you. “I can do it but, only if you’re serious about it. I don’t want to do this and then turn around to find out you’ve picked up the habit again. It’d be…”

“Disappointing?” you asked before he had the chance. His brows knitted, his expression suddenly saturnine as he gave a curt nod. Your smile shrinks and you sigh, “I gawt it. Not everybawdy can be Chawlie; willin’ ta help in every an’ any way with unlimited hope for awll these hell bound souls.”

He didn’t want to verbally agree but the silence was more than enough to confirm it. “If ya want ta and are willin’, I’d owe ya one. I am serious though, ‘bout quittin’. I wouldn’t be mad if ya don’t of course. I wasn’ tryin’ to fanangle when I asked ‘bout ya powas. You’re just fascinatin’ and I’ma neb.” The typical smile you adorned grew back as you continued speaking.

Lucifer watched you for a moment before he sighed and held out his hands to you, palms up. “Charlie wouldn want to try anything we can…put your hands on mine.”

You released your drink and wiped the condensation from the cup on your skirt. Gently you placed your palms against his. His hands were surprisingly about the same size as yours despite the hight difference and they were warmer than anyone else you had ever touched. Not to mention wonderfully soft. You suppressed a small hum and looked to him just as he closed his eyes. As the seconds passed, the nicotine craving started to subside. It was subtle at first but as it lessened into nothing it became very apparent. Almost alarmingly so.

“Better?” He asked, opening his eyes.

“It’s…” you hesitate, “kinda weird. I mean it’s gawn! Definitely betta in that sense. I don’t feel the cravin’ no more but… I guess… I gawt so use ta it bein’ there it’s weird nawt feelin’ it. ‘Specially awll of a sudden.”

“You’ll get used to it hopefully.” Lucifer said, not understanding the feeling but, trying to at least respect it.

You wrapped your hands around his and lightly squeezed, “Thank you. I own ya one.” You released his hands, not wanting to hold on too long despite the urge to.

“Don’t pick up the habit again and we’re even.” he replied, picking up what remained of his watered down drink to hold out the cup to you. You barked out a laugh and picked up your own cup, clinking the two together.

“Still owe ya, but if that makes ya feel betta that’s fine.” you sip from your drink and Lucifer finished off his just as Charlie and everyone who had gone out burst through the doors. 

“CHARLIE!” Lucifer exclaimed, rocketing off the seat. You laughed out at his antics, shaking your head at the king of hell. You watched for a moment Lucifer greet his daughter and part of the following scene of Alastor manifesting to antagonize the king.

You had no intention of wavering on your decision to quit smoking before but, the idea of letting him down after him helping you gripped our heart with a tight squeeze; the look on his face as he had hesitated to help you initially in fear of being let down. You couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at you like that. Like there was genuinely some hope. It certainly had to have been before you died. Down here, people didn’t expect anything from you to get disappointed by. 

You turned in your seat to find, next to your drink, two bags; one of pumpkin seeds and one of sunflowers. “What the…?” you jerked your head up to look at Husk who immediately pointed over towards Lucifer and Charlie as they walked off to talk about whatever had brought Lucifer bounding into the hotel in the first place with Alastor lurking behind.

“Sneaky devil…” you muttered, turning back to the gift. You emitted a giggle, grabbing one of the bags to look it over. That was…thoughtful. It made your heart swell and where your hands had touched his tingle. “Well…I really can’t let him down now.”

[ghcstao3]

I like rain. To me rain is cold and it’s wet but it’s filled with poetry and warm tea (and a significant other). Rain means the sky is crying. It means it’s real. When you stand outside and feel the cold drops on your skin. It’s real. When you smell the fresh and crispy air. It’s real. You hear the pitter patter. It’s real. The rainbow that sometimes smiles at you. It’s real. Anyway I’m getting off track.

I feel like Ghost would be the kind of person to appreciate the rain. He would enjoy the peace of sitting alone and watching the rain fall (or maybe sitting with Soap). He’d close his eyes and let the rest of his senses wander. Feeling the chilly air. Listening to the rhythmic music. Smelling the sharp scent. He could relax and take the time to enjoy himself.

Price would also enjoy rain. He could be smoking and watching the rain or sitting in his office, reading and listening to the sounds of the sky weeping.

Price would catch Ghost on rainy days relaxing by an open window. His pretty eyes shut. Enjoying the moment. Price would smile and soften. Sometimes joining him on the peacefulness.

It’s a mutual understanding no one else seems to share.

The quiet. The peace. The lull between every other busy, occupied moment.

It’s a mutual understanding no one else seems to share, about the rain. About standing side by side under the eaves and just breathing, inhaling ozone and smoke and letting the day’s concerns be washed away by cool droplets with every exhale.

The first time Price had seen Simon finding solace in the rainfall, he’d backed off. Forgone his own peace to let Simon have a break—because God knew how much he needed it. Price could wait.

The next time, however, he ventures to stand next to Simon, silently offering out his cigar when he sees the mindless twitch in Simon’s fingers, that itch for nicotine he’s been trying to stave off but can never fully quit. And to Price’s worn-down surprise from years of knowing the man, Simon accepts.

It becomes routine, that understanding. That wordless exchange, that passing, fleeting peace that always promises to return someday, eventually.

Such a moment of rest is not something to take for granted—especially not if it can be shared with the same reverence.

[argentnoelle]

[fic] in memoriam ~ (It's a year after Gicheul's death. No one's dealing with it well.) [on ao3]

He and Euijeong still live in the same house, and since his promotion, Park Junmo works in Seoul just as his wife does. It is the same house, the same kitchen, the same green-patterned wallpaper like lilies or an open fan, and the pale wood floor which only shows the ghost of blood under luminol. He brings his own food and leaves it in the fridge, or takes some of the leftovers Euijeong has wrapped carefully in plastic; they don’t speak. She avoids the kitchen, padding every evening through the front door and the hall all the way back to their bedroom; he follows her once she can pretend to be asleep. It’s been a long time since he left his silver ring on the gravestone, a long time since she left her simple cross necklace, tied around the neck of a bouquet. She still wears the necklace Gicheul had given her later; the mocking flower-cut gems. And Junmo still wears the watch. 

He tries to be quiet as he walks with bare feet into the silent room, but Euijeong’s breathing is shallow and sleepless, and as the rustle of the covers over him break the silence, the mattress dipping under his weight, she says, “where… did you go today?”

Junmo looks toward the shadowed ceiling and not toward her. A spike of irritation rises in his gut. He could have gone further without hearing her voice. 

“You know where I went.”

He’d gotten there first this time; left a cigarette on the cold stone. He’d known she’d be arriving later with a grouping of flowers, delicate things that Gicheul would surely cherish just as he cherished her. 

“It’s been a year.”

“It’s been a year. So? You never wanted to fucking talk about it before, why now? You’ve been pretending he doesn’t exist for a year, and now you want to talk about him? Do you wish you’d died along with him? Eh?”

He sounds cruel. He is cruel. The words just pour out of him into the silence and he hears them echo. He had never wanted to be a husband who was cruel, but he’s long since lost the capacity for an innocent lie.

“Do you?” she says. Quiet. It must be easier for her. She��s not the one who pulled the trigger. She’s never asked him why he did it. Junmo has so many reasons. He was trying to save Gicheul from an eternity in hell. He hated his enemy for stealing away his wife. He couldn’t bear to let Gicheul have his way in anything, even this.

“Fuck. Euijeong, I can’t talk about this. Find someone else to bother with it—”

“Who else?”

Junmo lets out a ragged exhale. Who else indeed. 

He sits up. Rummages in the bedside drawer for his cigarettes and lighter. He can’t have this conversation without something else to focus on; the steadiness of nicotine into his lungs, the warm burn of smoke. He can feel her sitting up too, settling herself with her back against the headboard.

 “I think about him all the time,” Euijeong says. It’s a confession of only what he already expects. Junmo breathes out, curls his fingers around the wrapper in his hand. “Every time I come back here, it feels like he’s still waiting in the kitchen. Sometimes I think I’m going to turn my head, and I’ll see him—”

“He was dead the moment he came back here,” Junmo says. “He was going to run away with you. The bastard thought he could still fucking make it. His normal fucking life with a married cop—” he chokes on a laugh. “Did he want you to protect him? Was he going to wrap you up in that, too? Jung Gicheul. That motherfucking bastard.”

“I should have warned him not to come back for me,” Euijeong says.

Junmo takes another drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling into the still air in a heavy haze; he rests his elbows on his knees. “He would’ve come back anyway,” he says at last. “He never knew when to quit.”

Neither of them had. Junmo had seen the oncoming wreck but had still stone-eyed stared down the road with his foot on the accelerator. He’d win the race if it killed them both. He’d won. And it had killed Gicheul.

Now he has his high rank to keep him warm at night and the memories that won’t give him rest. He doesn’t care about the fucking kitchen. He can go there every evening and morning and eat at the table a foot from where Gicheul died and see nothing but pale wood and emptiness. But when he drives through the streets that the Gangnam Union used to patrol and turns his head, sometimes he thinks he catches a glimpse of a familiar gait, the fabric of a coat, a head turning in the crowd. He sees Gicheul’s ghost in the places where the man had lived, not where he’d died. 

He doesn’t know what it says if he sometimes sees his own doppelgänger too: Seungho, striding by his boss’s side, confident in the milling crowd, lighting up with a smile.

[on ao3]

[raibebe]

I'll be there for you

Genre: fluff, slightly angsty Words: 893 Prompt: 90s grunge boy Jeno and best friend Jaemin

Warnings: mentions of past trauma

A/N: Heheh, probably not what anyone was waiting for but I hope you like these two wholesome babies anyways!

Everlong masterlist | I'll be there for you pt. 1 | pt. 2

“I didn’t know you played the guitar.” “Haven’t touched her in a while,” Jeno admitted, softly plucking the strings of his acoustic guitar while Jaemin sat down next to him, wrapped up in one of his fluffy cardigans and fuzzy socks on his feet. He hadn’t noticed how much he had missed plucking the strings of his guitar that had been collecting dust in your shared bedroom. “Somehow this really suits you,” Jaemin grinned, softly nudging his friend with his shoulder. At that, Jeno could only snort as he tried to tune his instrument. “Quite melancholic isn’t it?” “Playing depressive songs on your guitar while your girlfriend is out partying?” Jaemin quipped playfully. “No need to say it out loud.” 

For a while, the two friends sat in silence, while Jeno gingerly plucked the strings of his worn guitar, going straight off of muscle memory while watching the insects of the night swarm around the neon lights of the Indian restaurant on the other side of the street. “Something is bothering you though,” Jaemin spoke slowly, pulling his cardigan tighter around his frame to shield himself from the cold of the night. He had gotten some of his weight back in the past weeks, his cheeks filling out again but his fluffy cardigans still seemed to swallow his lean frame. “I know I can trust her,” Jeno argued, his fingers stilling. “It’s Donghyuck you don’t trust,” the other concluded. “It’s stupid,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands, “She’s probably been friends with him for a long time and has been going to parties with him and all her other friends, I don’t know why I’m so insecure all of a sudden.” “He’s nice,” Jaemin shrugged it off, “I’ve talked to him on campus a couple of times. The popular type. Lots of friends.” “Bongsik hates him.” 

At that, Jaemin barked out a laugh and Jeno couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto his lips as well at the sound. “That’s a valid reason to distrust him of course,” Jaemin smiled, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “She loves all of her other friends,” Jeno sulked, “And she immediately liked you as well.” “Bongsik is a cat, Jeno. She probably didn’t like his perfume or something.” “I trust her judgment. She went out of her way to climb on top of the fridge. And she kept hissing at him.” “You know you sound like an insane cat lady, right? I think all the nicotine finally went to your head,” Jaemin laughed. He was doing it more often these days, laughing freely and making silly little jokes. Small steps of progress each day. It was like unwrapping a present, slowly getting to know the real Jaemin more and more. “He’s harmless, trust me on this one.” 

“Hmm,” Jeno just hummed, going back to strumming his guitar. “Didn’t she have male friends in high school?” “Oh, plenty,” he laughed, “The locker room talk was awful. A bunch of hormonal teenagers.” “But they didn’t bother you?” “They were. But I knew we two had something. Like. A connection. It sounds silly when you say it out loud but what were the odds of her coming back to our hometown and falling for me? It felt almost like…” “Like destiny,” Jaemin agreed, his voice sounding a little far away. “No matter how hard I tried to keep her away, she was so persistent,” Jeno smiled at the memory, his fingers playing a familiar tune he had played a lot for you back then. “She’d climb onto my roof every night until she climbed her way into my heart as well.” “Sounds lovely,” the smaller of the two friends sighed, sagging against his friend’s broader frame, “But why did you try to keep her away in the first place?” “I was a very angsty teenager,” Jeno just shrugged it off. 

“You’re no stranger to pain,” Jaemin concluded, his dark eyes finding Jeno’s. “It can’t be compared to yours, Nana,” he sighed, leaning his head against his friend’s, “I’m good.” “Is that why you wanted to help me? Because you knew my pain?” “I saw that you were hurting, Nana. And it only got worse and worse. Was I supposed to just look away?” “Everyone else did,” Jaemin shrugged weakly before he snorted. “Sad, isn’t it? I managed to chase all my friends away until it was only me and my girlf- my ex-girlfriend and a total stranger had to help me.” “Jaemie~,” Jeno sighed, carelessly putting his guitar down so he could wrap his arms around his friend again. 

“Do you have any idea how thankful I am for what you did for me?” Jaemin mumbled into the fabric of Jeno’s sweater. “I just did what I thought was right.” “You did much more than that, Jeno,” he argued, “And I’ll never know how to repay you.” “You don’t need to repay me for anything.” “But I want to, Jen. Please.” With that, Jaemin pulled away from the hug, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Then be my friend,” Jeno smiled, “I don’t need anything else from you. I just haven’t had a best friend in a while.” “I’ll be the best friend you’ll ever have,” Jaemin promised enthusiastically, a bright smile splitting his face. 

“You already are,” Jeno smiled softly, picking his guitar up again, “Any wishes?” 

[thecorpsecowboy]

This year been fucked, but I finally seem to be turning a corner. I’ve successfully avoided the psych ward, and I haven’t come close to a suicide attempt so I’ll chalk that up to a win. I quit drinking, I quit nicotine, I got off a medication I shouldn’t be on, and now I’m gonna quit smoking weed when I get back from vacation in July. I’ve been forcing myself to go out more, and even went solo fishing this week. I never used to do things by myself. Been trying to get more active in the scene as well; I’ve missed being surrounded by punx and skins. Anyway life’s been a mess, but I’m doing better and I love you all and want the best for you.

[koukouture]

My commandant OCs (noteworthy) relationship dynamics with PGR characters bc I’m bored

I’m actually just procrastinating, I’m not bored. Also his name is Qiu Jia but I think you know that if you follow me. I talk abt him too much.

Lucia - Sister Qiu is just chill with her like that. Like they can just be around each other and even thought it’s silent it’s not awkward. They just make each other feel at ease. Not much to say, but it’s like they can read each other’s minds. Well I guess they kinda can with the mind link? Yeah, overall they’re just comforting prescience’s to each other.

Liv - Little sister who can do no wrong Qiu is a bit protective of Liv, just because he knows how kind and timid people like her are sometimes mistreated. Especially after Survival Luceum, they’re glued at the hip. Liv also trusts him a lot, she’s his impulse control, while Qiu helps her to assert herself more. Liv is also very particular about his health, and she’s trying to help him with his nicotine addiction.

Lee - Annoying younger brother Yes they fight about who is older because “technically Lee has been alive longer but is stuck at eighteen” but Qiu will not hear any of it and he thinks of himself as the older brother. They absolutely will not stop insulting each other (while covering Liv’s ears ofc) and constantly take jabs at each other but issok it’s all in the name of love. Qiu takes the brunt of Lee’s insults because he finds it funny and usually just laughs them off. Lee regularly calls him a slut/whore though and it irks Qiu depending on his mood that day but he makes no point to stop it bc it is funny sometimes.

Nikola - Oh boy it’s complicated Nikola is Qiu’s dad but not really. Yes he never intended to hurt Qiu the way he did but Qiu still ended up as… Qiu so it is what it is. Would never admit it, but Qiu so desperately wants to call Nikola his father, he’s just hesitant due to everything Nikola has done. Likewise, Nikola would like to be able to call Qiu his son, and he’s always wanted the best for him but unfortunately he never asked Qiu what he wanted. Qiu stopped talking to him after he joined Kurono and they only made up around the time of Survival Luceum, but even then their relationship is still complicated.

Hassen - Cool uncle I have literally never seen Hassen and Nikola apart in the main story?? Are they Iike partners or smth they seem to know each other pretty well. Anyways that being said Qiu was around Hassen quite a bit growing up, and of course Hassen is super chill and good with kids so he doesn’t mind seeing his partner’s kids every once in a while. Watches Nikola and Qiu’s relationship fall apart from the outside and is quite concerned about it. But overall, Hassen calls Qiu “kid” and is very casual with him when he’s not on missions.

Roland - it’s complicated romance edition Yes Qiu and Roland have tried to kill each other numerous times but neither of them really care??? Qiu still thinks Roland is pretty hot and they have some cute enemies to lovers tension. Roland is kind of flirty with him, because that riles Qiu up when they fight. They’re both super fucked up and are aware of it but it is what it is and they violently want to fuck. They’re actually kin of obnoxious together I’m not gonna lie, if they were an actual couple they would be so annoying, constantly touching and flirting with each other. They give Lee the ick. I would go deeper into their complicated relationship and feelings towards each other but that deserves it’s own post they are both so *squeezes them*

Wanshi - Nap buddies Qiu is also perpetually sleepy and often sleeps to avoid his problems (just like me) so it stands that they’re buddies. Thing is, Qiu’s sleep schedule is so fucked up that he gets like three hours of sleep and random naps throughout the day. Wanshi who is you know, also a doctor finds this mildly concerning but helps him take it one step at a time by at least helping him nap properly. They’re both pretty chill with like touching and lying on each other so it’s not uncommon to find them both sleeping in a literal pile on Strike Hawk’s couch or something.

Camu - “You’re not my commandant” Camu gets Qiu’s bad vibes in spades they fucking hate each other. Camu resents Qiu for “replacing” Ash (former commandant of GR) who helped Camu a lot. Likewise, Qiu doesn’t like him because he’s not exactly subtle about it. Also, given Qiu’s back ground in Kurono Camu hates him even more. Camu just brings back up Qiu’s inferiority complex and feelings of being an inadequate replacement and it makes them avoid each other a lot. Honestly, they’re both kinda volatile so they get under each other’s skin.

Anyways that’s that I’m melting in this heat and I will be thinking of my silly little train wreck of a SKK OC *evaporates*

[moonythejedi394]

I hope you’re doing okay. I’m sorry for everything you went through. That’s sort of the reason why I just read fics and I’m too scared to post my works. Then you’re out there and people know who you are 😭 I’m just glad to hear from you again.

i'm doing so much better

first there was the manhunt in 2021 that fucked with my head, but i actually recovered a traumatic memory in january of 2023 and it kinda ruined 2023? also last summer i had a ptsd episode that resulted in me being detained at a psychiatric facility for a while (i would not recommend it staff were awful and we rarely got to experience sunlight which i think is weird?? sunlight is great. anyway.

after that i went to a really great residential mental health thingy called Clearview in Venice CA (i think it's venice) and that was really good for me. (it also made me hit my out of pocket maximum in like july so i had a lot of free doctors appointments last year).

atm i'm trying to find a job bc the one that hired me ghosted after giving me my first paycheck, i'm doing weekly therapy with the goa of returning to uni in the fall and i'm trying to quit nicotine but cigarettes are so nice feeling ugh.

[jochiew]

Turning 27

This year is the year I turn 27. 

27 seems small in the greater scheme of things, but the idea of mortality hits everyone at different ages, right? 

26 was the year that things finally settled - that things in my life seemed to work out. I have a wonderful partner who I am engaged to, (!) who makes me feel safe. I have a decent job, that I don’t hate, that pays alright, with kind bosses. I have an amiable relationship with my family. I have a great group of friends, an undeniably strong support system. Now, what more is there to ask for? 

Which is why I feel stuck - because the only thing I can look to upgrade or advance is me. What more can I do with my life?

In 2020, when I was 24, I worked on building myself - my interests and hobbies - music, reading, writing and exercising. I think I have been slacking on these hobbies, so it must come back in 2023. 

Ideally, the goal is to:

- finish 1 book a month - listen to 4 albums a month - work out 5 times a week - write when I have too many feelings.

Like now.

Recently, it has been getting harder to breathe - and nothing points to anything more than my nicotine habit. Or should I say addiction?

I’ve never been scared of death, and I still am not. But empathy and guilt always been the pain point for me. Thinking about others’ grief always crushes me with the heaviest weight, and this debilitates me. It debilitates me to the point that I do not see the point of the now, which is ironic, considering that the now is the only thing that I can change. 

Everyday I wake up and repeat the nightmare of “I should quit nicotine”, but struggle with the idea of “We all die anyway, so what’s the point?” 

Isn’t that how life works? We all know that we are going to die anyway, and we try to live each day as if it is our last. But to do that would be fallacious too. Because if we live each day as if it is our last, then what would the point of working be? What would be the point of thinking about our future? What would be the point of thinking about tomorrow at all? 

This is probably man’s greatest struggle - something that I never really had the space to think of, and never really found the answer to. 

The only answer that probably pops up in my mind is: To do my best.

But is my best enough? Will my best (reducing my addiction) still be killing me everyday? What is good enough? 

Baby says not to struggle with 5 things at once, and to struggle with only 1. My biggest struggle right now, then, is figuring out what I believe in. Is my anxiety the root cause of all the pain I am feeling? Is it manifesting in ways I am acutely unaware of? 

Nowadays, I’m not sure if I’m happy or if I’m pretending to be happy and hoping that I believe in it. I’m not sure if I’m pretending that I’m happy so that anxiety and grief does not rise up like a wave and crush me. 

I don’t want people to look at me and think: In the end, it was her own mind that killed her. In the end, it was her own inability to contend with reality that made her forget who she is. 

The biggest question I try to ask myself everyday is: what do I want from this life? Even if I quit nicotine, then what? Even if I manage to break free, then what? And I have no answer. Things go on like how the ocean flows, regardless of the passage of time, and the countless souls that come and go.

So what am I on this earth for? 

To be happy everyday seems like a good answer to me because it’s got me through all the pain I’ve ever suffered till today. But now that I’m not suffering anymore, how long will that answer last? 

[the-duckless-pond]

I heard people fighting last night. Or at least I think I did. I don’t know. It’s all very confusing. I suppose this is part of why my mood dropped. I didn’t sleep very well because of what I heard.

I woke up around midnight to 2am to loud talking coming through the vents above my bed. The conversation sounded distant but I could hear it. It was coming through the vents right above me. It was in Spanish and I have several Spanish as a first language neighbors and it sounded like an argument. I remember being worried it wouldn’t stop or that it would wake up Miss Boo who had come to bed with me for the first time in a few days.

But then I remembered, as I was waking up, that the vents in my room are actually kind of far away from the bed. And that I didn’t take my antipsychotic that evening because it makes me too tired and I needed to wake up early. So then I started to get upset because I didn’t know if it was real or not, but it seemed very real and like my neighbors were having a fight. I remember wanting to call the non emergency line to report a domestic dispute because it was so loud that it was coming through the vents and that was worrisome and the man was screaming at the woman. But I didn’t because I couldn’t tell if it was real and didn’t want to have that conversation with the police if it wasn’t.

So eventually I was able to fall back asleep because Boo started snoring really loudly and I could focus on that instead of the argument. But then I kept waking up a bunch so I didn’t sleep very well. But the fighting was done the next time I woke up and I didn’t hear it again the rest of the night.

Now, I’ve been thinking about it all day. And I’m pretty sure it was real. Because it was fairly obviously Spanish and I don’t speak Spanish enough (or at all) to create a hallucinated composite of it to hear. Probably. I don’t know. I am trying not to think about it.

Anyway and then I got up and I had worn a tank top to bed and I noticed that the skin on my upper arms where I’ve been putting my nicotine patches is coming off??? Like when you have a sunburn. All over my upper arms. And that made me want to take it off and go back to smoking because everything has been so hard anyway and no one actually cares if I quit or not or at least it feels that way because everyone is pressuring me about it and talking to me about it when I have specifically asked them not to because spoiler alert it just makes me want to smoke! Ugh. So that was on my mind first thing.

And then I tried to forget about it but it was hard. And then I was at the renn faire and people were smoking and it smelled so good. And I know that no one really cares anyway, you know? So it sounded really good. And then there was so much talking abd that got to be a lot. And I knew my skin was peeling and that is scary. So when I got dropped off at home I just… got in my car and went to the gas station. And bought two packs of smokes. And when I got back to the apartment I took off my patch and put it in the trash because my fucking skin is peeling and that is very scary. And I just don’t think I matter enough anyway so like why bother why can’t I have this one thing this one vice.

So yeah. I don’t know.

Whatever. I’m tired.

And now I’m upset. The end. Send post.

[beautifult999]

I just don’t smoke crack or do other drugs or alcohol because it’s bad for me and mostly bad for my mental health, I don’t think I can handle another high or trip. I’m finally on the right medications and dosages, just the right amount and just enough to keep me sane, and the only drugs I can really do or handle any more are my psychiatric medications and caffeine and nicotine. And they really do it for me anyway, now that I’m not numbed on so much medication any more. Also, I’m being healthy now, by working out and eating healthy and trying to lower my cholesterol and lose weight. I also do know that I’m not 20 years old any more, (I’m 28 now,) and aging skin is a real thing. I started doing skin care lately and I really do not want to smoke crack Cocaine again and make my skin look all dehydrated and dry and old and disgusting looking again. I’m trying to keep my body, mind, hair, and skin healthy now that I quit drugs. And I think at this age, my partying days should be over and if I’m going to keep on introducing toxins into my body, it will only be sugar free energy drinks and cigarettes and vapes for now, until I quit those too.

[jodilin65]

THURSDAY, JANUARY 31, 1991 God, I am so tired. I fell asleep at 9:00 and sure enough, I woke up at 1:00 after sleeping 4 hours. I woke up sneezing and blowing my nose. My lungs don’t feel bad and I’d rather wake up to sneeze and blow my nose rather than coughing and wheezing.

Andy came over saying he thinks he may be catching a cold and I hope that doesn’t worsen mine cuz you know how weak my immune system is.

I need to try to quit smoking again soon and also go see Dr. McGovern. I need more Theodur and I guess I’ll also discuss allergy shots. I wish I could do the natural cure by quitting smoking permanently!

Russ called tonight sounding sincere again saying he’d really like to resolve our dispute. I told him once again that if he’s willing to drop it, I’ll drop it and that I surely do not plan to live here forever. I also told him that for the last 3 days, it hasn’t been bad in here cuz it’s been a little warmer outside, but as soon as it gets bitter cold out, it gets cold in here. I reminded him again that I, and the other tenants, wouldn’t complain for no reason and hopefully it sank in this time and he’ll give up on his spite tricks. But as long as he’s gonna push the eviction, I’m gonna push small claims court. If anything, he owes me money that I’ve paid for the heat that was supposed to be included in my rent that I never got.

Boy, is it ever windy out now. It sounds like someone’s screaming.

I really do need to try and go back to sleep, so first I’ll make coffee, smoke a butt, listen to a little music, and then I should be more than ready.

Tomorrow I’ve got to go to Food Fart.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 30, 1991 Andy better hurry up. His show starts at 1:00. If he’s not here, I’ll record it. He’s supposedly coming over with

Later…

I was interrupted before cuz the phone rang and two seconds before Andy’s show came on he walked in. His show wasn’t on anyway cuz of the Gulf War update. He was pissed and I don’t blame him cuz that’s what the news hour is for. They shouldn’t keep interrupting the shows. News belongs on the news.

He’ll be here for 6 hours editing his tapes.

I got a call from Martha and I am going to see her later at 4:00.

Later…

I’m glad I went to therapy after all. I got a lot of shit off my chest. We basically discussed how I view myself and how others view me. I told her how and why I thought I was a quality person who may appear goofy and playful but is mature and good at knowing other people’s characters. We talked about how there are many types of people that I dislike, but I still understand why they’re the way they are.

I also discussed how I get the types that are loud, obnoxious and desperate or the geeky shy types that can’t speak for themselves and aren’t firm enough when they need to be. I told her I need someone more outspoken and loving and understanding, yet as rough and as tough as they need to be.

My sister called. I told her if worse came to worse she could check out apartments for me.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 29, 1991 Yesterday I woke up feeling like shit. I was really congested. I took my asthma pill and some Dimetapp and Brenda gave me some Anthramycin which is an antibiotic. As long as I eat a little before taking it, it doesn’t play with my stomach.

Yesterday I woke up at 7:30am. Today I woke up at 6am. Nice, huh? Now wait till I have to perform this Friday night. But my point is that even though I woke up with a coughing fit after I’d slept 4 hours like I usually do, I woke up later feeling great! The antibiotic really helped with my congestion. I haven’t sneezed yet and haven’t blown my nose 5,000 times.

I’ve had half a cigarette though and I’m gonna do the 2-3 a day thing rather than 5-6 to really lower my nicotine level and try quitting again. Kim offered me 5 bucks a day if I quit. That does make it more encouraging, besides the idea of being able to breathe and sing without clearing my throat or sneezing.

Speaking of my voice, God is it really developing! I’m really getting to be quite a good singer. It gets more and more brilliant and vibrant.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 27, 1991 Russ came over yesterday before noon. He asked me to write down every time it got cold and what the temperature was after putting a thermometer in each room.

He told me he was prepared for the judge to allow me to stay until October but that he hoped it wouldn’t come down to court. There’s nothing solid or valid he could do or say in court, and I told him I would move when I’m ready to move.

Tomorrow, I’m going to call legal aid.

Later…

I was over at Brenda and Bonny’s place and I played them the edits I made early this morning. They’re not bad. I gave Bonny this T-shirt she liked and she gave me a denim mini-skirt. She also gave me little bulletin boards in the shape of the letters L and R. L and R can stand for Linda Ronstadt.

Kim will be here any moment for a sign language lesson.

Lisa, the girl I met at the Pub said she’s home all the time. Well, she must have her ringer off if she did give me the right number cuz I tried 4 times and there’s no answer. She’ll have to call me.

I’m starting to get a little tired. I hope Bill’s not here too long. Also, Andy needs to bring over my videotape along with his so I can record his show.

Later…

I’ve had a great day today. Bonny and I have gotten to be pretty good friends. “It’s better than fighting,” like she said.

Andy and I had a nice visit although the woman he’s renting from is really treating him like shit. He’s moving back in with his parents by Valentine’s Day.

Bill, Andy and I had a nice talk, and I played them my new edition of the edits.

I’m beat cuz I’ve been up since 2am, so I should sleep quite well. I just hope that none of these fucking street animals wake me up.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 26, 1991 Andy and I performed tonight. Neither of us won, but it was fun just the same. The audience and the judges didn’t dislike us, but we both felt we were nothing special and could’ve been better.

It amazes me how many people I know. People came up to me before the show and talked to me that I didn’t even know that knew me from previous shows. This one guy remembered when I signed and said that was “fierce.” I saw tons of people I knew who complimented me after the show and I was also complimented by people I didn’t know. Raven was there along with Emie, Loopie, Candy, Jasmine, Miles, W.C., Scott, Rachel, Dedra and at least 20 or more other people I know.

I met this incredibly feminine girl named Lisa who gave me her number if it’s the right one. I wasn’t too impressed with her hair which was short on top and spiked with a long tail in the back. Her body and her face were beautiful, though. She’s not bi either, she’s just gay.

Last year, though, I would really be into her and meeting others. I used to be so eager. Now my heart’s just not in it like it used to be. There’s still a great part of me saying, “All I want now is to be alone and I’m not even quite ready yet for a one-night stand.”

I saw 3 other girls who were even more gorgeous, and yes, I would do a one-nighter with them right away (one at a time, of course). One was straight, as usual. The other 2 were a couple, also as usual. They were so feminine, though, and each one had such nice long dark hair.

Also, I chatted with the cops.

Later…

I broke down in tears thinking about this shit with Russ and finally said to myself that I was going to put an end to this either the easy way or the hard way. So I called Russ and asked to speak to him. He said sure and sounded very friendly and sincere. I figured he’d more or less have nothing to say to me.

Anyway, I said to him, “How can you be so cruel and vindictive when you never were before? You’ve done me favors such as not having me pay last month’s rent and got me movers. So why are you so eager to see me out on the streets when you know I have nothing, no money, no family and nowhere to go? I have never hurt anyone or anything and I don’t know what you can say in court or if this is a tax-related thing or what. You even said so yourself that it would get cold in here when it got bitter cold outside and you know there have been several other tenants complaining. If you’d stop putting temperature recorders in here that say it’s a temperature it’s not, then I’ll forget about taking legal action if you’re willing to drop this and turn up the heat.”

He sounded friendly, as I said, and said he’d like to stop up and see me sometime before noon. I’ve no idea what he’s planning, but I’ll write about it once I know.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 25, 1991 Shadow’s climbing all over me. I swear this cat is so affectionate and loving. He follows me everywhere. I should’ve named him Glue instead. Earlier I was running around the living room with him. We have several games we play.

I spoke to Andy a little while ago for the second time. I told him I’d record his show for him on one of my tapes.

The reason I’ve been sleeping during the day, which of course is never hard to do, is cuz as I mentioned before, Andy and I are performing at the Pub a noche.

Andy told me another bizarre thing. First, let me back up and mention Angie. I don’t think I did mention her. A while back, not even a month ago, we went to the Pub and I eyed this girl, she seemed prettier than usual and had Andy speak to her for me. When he came back to where I was sitting he said she was a rude bitch. He said she said, “Well, after I dump this asshole I’ll think about it.”

She was with another girl. Angie was totally smashed and the next part of the story will tell you so.

As Andy and I were leaving at closing time, we walked by Angie and her girlfriend and Andy goes, “Now, here’s the better-looking girl,” and she saw me and insisted I come back to the bar. She hadn’t seen what I looked like till then.

Now here’s the sad but typical part. Especially for a bar person and a fairly good-looking one. She screamed out so the whole bar could hear, “Will you lick my pussy?” Then she did the usual trick people do and gave me the wrong phone number.

What’s bizarre is that Andy was cutting through this Laundromat to his mother’s store that I’ve been to before, and it turns out Angie works there. That Laundromat is a dump. I used to go there when I lived on Oswego St.

He said he said her name to be sure and she said, “Yeah, I’m Angie. How’d you know?”

Then Andy told her, “You don’t want to know.” Andy said she had no makeup on and looked tired.

He also said that maybe God sent him to walk through there to find out where she works so I can take it from there.

I definitely don’t want a relationship nowadays with even the right person. I just wanna have fun here and there, but not with just anyone. Right now what’s most important to me and mainly on my mind is having what I’ve never had in my entire 25 years of life. Sex with someone I’m really sexually attracted to and turned on by if only for a night. I’d rather have a few one-nighters here and there even if it’s only 5 a year with someone I’m attracted to, rather than get serious with someone who doesn’t really matter.

Later…

I went through all my journals and I’ve kept journals for 3 years and 3 months now. I went through each one and wrote the entry dates on the covers. I guess that’s gonna be my new thing. I’ve written 360 days of the 3 years and 3 months’ time. On the cover of each book I wrote the month and then each day of that month that I wrote.

I think I’m gonna go lay down. It’s fucking freezing in here! That little fuck of a bastard landlord of mine. Boy, do I ever want to hound the shit out of him!

Later…

The housing people are coming on Monday and I called Mom who was being her usual bitchy self and asked if she’s heard from him, which I doubted, and she hasn’t. This shit Russ is pulling is definitely tax-related as well as to raise the rent when I’m gone. But I’m gonna be here for a while, and if Russ keeps this shit up, it’s gonna cost him more money than a profit.

A few years ago when Nellie and José pulled their crap on me by ripping me off, I brought up charges and was able to drop them over the phone after being paid back by Nellie. Well, I just tried that by calling the courthouse saying I was Jenny and it didn’t work but all is still well cuz I’m not going to court.

I will not give Jenny the satisfaction of showing up for a lousy slew of prank phone calls. Jenny got exactly what she deserved and I know lots of other people have done the same.

I haven’t heard from John R since he got fired from Mercy Hospital.

I tried calling the Laundromat where Angie works and no one’s there now but this retard janitor. Guess they don’t open till 10:00. I’ll try again soon.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 24, 1991 When I finally fell asleep I’d been up for 20 hours. I awoke at 8:30 this morning. I’m surprised I didn’t sleep longer since I couldn’t fall asleep till 4:00 this afternoon.

I called Community Care and left a message for Martha saying I wouldn’t be back. I figure how am I ever going to learn how to suppress my feelings and be independent if I continue therapy? Yes I know I’m already what most people would call mega-independent for a girl my age especially. All except for my source of income. I’m not gonna get into my income except to say yes, I’d much rather earn it by singing and someday I will but for now, I do not feel guilty. The state owes me. They fucked me over. And over. And over.

Although I’ve known all my life that being a famous singer was destined, I also knew it wouldn’t come young. I figured I’d be between the ages of 30-32. I knew it’d be fast once it all started. That may be why it’s not coming till 30-32 rather than now.

Also, I knew that the Gods had lots of learning experiences for me and survival tests lined up for me and boy have I now had 5 lifetimes of that! However, I am grateful to have learned some of the things I’ve learned. What you don’t know can hurt you or severely frustrate you or raise false hopes for you.

I am surprised Andy and Fran haven’t tried calling. Also, there was no message on the machine from Brenda.

Later…

I am going to try to stay up till 9:00 when the Western Mass legal aid office opens. I need to speak to a legal intern who’s got some advice for me. I don’t know if I wrote about it yet, but Russ is being a prick by trying to evict me. I know it’s cuz I’ve been demanding the heat that I pay for in my rent that I haven’t gotten along with several other tenants. This may also be for tax purposes or to get people out so he can raise the rent. My parents and Tammy are pissed at him and Dad referred me to Legal Aid. The little fuck, though, wouldn’t speak to me or Tammy and never called Dad back. He refuses to give me a reason while he told Andy it was cuz I didn’t like the neighborhood so I can move out. I was in the ER at the time so he handed the notice to Andy.

I went down to the housing court and the woman there said that cuz I pay on the 1st, he can’t evict me till February 9th. He gave me a 30-day notice on January 9th, but by law, the little fuck can’t do shit till March 1st. Hopefully, Russ will hurry up and take me to court so I can sue him there and try and get rent back payments for the months I froze my ass off. That’s probably what that Wendy at Legal Aid will tell me to do. I mean, what the fuck does this prick expect to say or do in court other than make a spectacle out of himself. Steve says the jackass will drop it. Bullshit. I know how people are. When they start trouble they start trouble but this little fuck obviously doesn’t realize he’s fucking with the wrong girl.

Same with Jenny C. Court on March 6th! HA! Jenny got exactly what she deserved, so she’s going to have to enjoy going to court herself cuz I sure as hell won’t be there.

Later…

Me and Andy are performing at the Pub this Friday night. He’s gonna do If I Were You by Stevie Nicks and I’m gonna do Words Get in the Way by Gloria.

Speaking of Gloria, she’s got a new album due to come out in 5 days. I hope there are some songs in Spanish on it. I wish I could’ve gotten that album with a lot of her songs in Spanish on it including Words Get in the Way (No Me Vuelvo a Enamorar). It would be better to do the Spanish version for the contest. I’ll need to order that album.

Brenda gave me 2 ciggies so now that’ll make 7. I’m really gonna pay for this. God, please don’t let me have a bad attack till I can once again get up the will to try and quit again.

Ok, time to move me, my coffee and my phone to the bedroom where I’m nice and comfortable.

Later…

I woke up feeling fairly good. I slept with my humidifier on.

Little fuck Fran’s up to his shit again. I woke up to a message from his neighbor Debbie accusing me of saying I’m gonna hurt her 2-year-old daughter and that Fran got a call from DES. I then had to explain to her how long I’ve known Fran and how little she knew him and that she had quite a bit to learn. This poor girl was terrified and I assured her no threats were made. Fran got her all worked up and it’s obviously a rejection issue or the fact that Fran had a horrendously lousy day. Debbie said I sounded sincere and I told her not to worry about Fran’s BS and not to let it get to her. I also told her to tell Fran that not only is he not welcome here anymore, but he’s not welcome to call me either. Between the shit Fran pulled with my mother along with other stuff and now this, that’s the final straw and I don’t need him.

Andy left a message about returning the videotape of his so I can record his soap. I called over where he lives and Gail says he’s not there. I also called over at Brenda’s, assuming he’d be there, but there was no answer.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 23, 1991 I have therapy today yet I don’t know how the hell I’m going to get there. I slept till almost 8:00 last night.

Andy came over last night and once again things are fairly good between us now that we’re not living together. See, when you have a fight with someone over the phone, you can just hang up on them. It’s not that simple when you’re living with someone.

Since Sunday I’ve been having 2-3 cigarettes a day and it’s catching up to me so I’ve got to be careful again. My back pain’s back and I’m waking up coughing again.

MONDAY, JANUARY 21, 1991 Yesterday my niece Lisa turned 8.

The day before yesterday I had about 4 cigarettes. I was terrified to go to bed thinking I’d wake up with a wicked bad attack, but I woke up fine. In fact, I feel better than I have in a long time. My nose and lungs are clearer and I’m not tight in the chest and there’s no back pain. Today I’ve had only one, but I could really go for one now.

Later…

Right after I last wrote, Jimmy gave me a cigarette which was my second. I fell asleep at 9:00 this morning figuring it’d be easy to get up at 1pm cuz I’d slept so many hours the day before. How wrong I was. I was dead tired. I didn’t get up until a few minutes before 4:00 when Bill rang the buzzer. I remained tired ever since but at least I got my grocery shopping done. I want to do more laundry tonight but I’m too beat. Last night I did two loads from around 12:30-2:30 AM. It was quite convenient as I’m a night person and knowing no one would be using the machines.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 19, 1991 Sure enough, I fucking woke up hacking my brains out about an hour ago. I had fallen asleep right after I last wrote. I definitely have a cold. No doubt about it as I can really feel it now.

Andy said that even when I feel I’ve kicked the smoking habit, I’ll still have urges. Of course, I know I will every so often and Andy’s been supportive but I think he’s starting to get jealous somewhat. God knows he’s very capable of that too, as I’ve seen him display jealousy before. It’s ok to feel a little jealous of someone now and then but it depends on how you handle that jealousy. Andy has quit before for 10 days two different times. Depending on the situation, I sometimes will look at a glass of water as being either half full or half empty. Andy will always see it as half empty.

Well, the street animals are out playing musical horns as usual.

Thank fucking God Andy will be here in less than 12 hours!

Later…

I wish to hell I could go back to sleep for a while. I have a lot of shit I need to do today and I want to sleep tomorrow night to be awake for Sunday’s voice lesson.

I started to get really pissed off with my urge to smoke. Even though they’re not intense, they’re still pretty frequent and I know it’ll be this way forever. The thought of always craving a cigarette pissed me off to the point where I held one and stared at it. I told myself if I smoked it, I’d have a severe attack which is true. I told myself I didn’t want to ever have to go to the ER again and be within inches of death 24 hours a day and in so much constant pain that I WISHED I were dead. I also thought of my singing. Yes, craving one is a better way of suffering, but it’s going to suck just the same. Since I do not drink or do drugs, it’s hard not having something of some kind to do, and watching others smoke.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 18, 1991 If I’m such a cruel nasty bitch who has so many bad points and not too much good, as people like to tell me, then why do people bother with me? Why not go find someone like themselves? I’m sorry but I just don’t feel guilty or selfish cuz I want to live alone. Or be myself.

I haven’t talked with Steve or Jessie for the longest time. I’m not good enough for them. That’s how I feel. I can’t help but always feel that with everyone even though I know I have good qualities. If I dump all my friends I won’t have to worry about communication and being misunderstood. Or feeling like I’m not good enough or a burden to them. People can be so contradicting, too. They play with my head. I’ll say something in which they’ll say they agree with 100%, then the next day they’ll use it against me and play me for a fool. Like, “How dare you say that Jodi!” But yesterday they agreed with and fully understood what I said. I’m no longer gonna be made to feel ashamed, foolish or guilty about the way I feel about things. The way I feel is the way I feel and who and what I am is who and what I am. Not what others want me to be, say, act or feel.

Later…

The little wimpett is going to start moving today and be out by tomorrow. I’m counting down the minutes.

Another reason I haven’t spoken to Steve is, that I’m tired of the “Andy said” bullshit. It puts me on the spot when I’m all of a sudden hit with something Andy said. Then I have to defend myself and explain something he made up or twisted around to make them dislike me or misunderstand me. He loves to turn people against me and he’s dropped plenty of hints that he’s had some pretty long and heavy-duty talks with his friend Adam concerning me. With many others, too. If you typed up all he’s ever said to people about me, he’d have a 3” thick book. Of course, in the long run, as far as Andy thinks, he’s 95% right and I’m 95% wrong.

Later…

Tomorrow Mr. Melodramatic is out of here. Thank fucking God! I can’t wait to have this place back to myself. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here but God only knows I’m counting down the minutes till Mr. Antic is out of here.

It shocks the shit out of me to say that as of 1am tonight, it’ll be 5 days, going on 6, since I last smoked. Amazing, huh? Not that I’m not getting urges here and there. I am. But the urges are very brief and 5 days is fantastic seeing that the longest I’ve ever made it before was just a tad over 2 days. My back pain is gone. And I am no longer so severely short of breath. I’m still a little tight in the chest, though, and a little wheezy and still coughing and sneezing some. Besides having bad withdrawal I also have a cold. The cold is subsiding much quicker than it would’ve if I smoked still. It’ll be really nice to only have a cold for 4 days out of a year rather than 300 days out of a year.

Later…

Jesus, I’ve been up for 22 hours! When am I gonna fall asleep? I think part of it is cuz I’m so psyched for Andy to get the fuck out tomorrow morning. Wait till the people he rents from finds out he doesn’t do chores and he breaks things. Or tries to when he isn’t getting his way. Wait till he himself finds out our friendship is over.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 17, 1991 Well, in an hour I’ll have gone 72 hours without smoking. The reality of it all still hasn’t quite hit me, but everything’s gone just as I predicted. Just like with the Navane and other things I’ve predicted how, why and when they’d happen. Some predictions, for example, with the Navane and smoking I predicted 3 or 4 years before it happened. Before I quit, I mean. I could see how it was gonna happen too, and why.

Later…

Am I ever psyched for Andy to get the hell out! He’s supposed to move this Saturday to rent a room on Dickinson. Yeah sure, but I’m like, get this wacko outa here! Andy never really was a true friend. Not in all ways, but in some ways. The reason I’m running around calling him a liar about this and that so much lately is cuz he’s done it so much to me. He can’t take his best friend’s word for anything so now he’s seeing how he likes it. Why would I, or any other 25-year-old need to lie? I’m not a child who has to fear punishment if the truth is told.

I cannot wait till he’s outa here and I will never ever let myself get into this situation again. I, of course, should’ve known better with a person like Andy. Or his type. Andy just freaks over anything and everything. I know plenty of other people who I have much less in common with but could live with them so much easier. However, I never will live with anyone again. That’s how I felt before Andy moved in so I sure as hell won’t change my mind about that now. He has lived here for almost a month.

Later…

The last sentence got cut off cuz Andy and I started talking. We also played the piano and sang. I still say, though, that yes he has a lot of good qualities, and yes we have a lot in common, but God he can be an asshole!

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 16, 1991 While I’m waiting for Martha I can tell you how well I woke up. It was 5am and fucking Andy asked me to wake him up at 7:00. I told him to set his alarm in case I fell asleep and I did. I then woke up briefly at 9am. The next thing I know, the little fuck is saying, “Hey! Hey! Don’t you have an appointment?”

It was 1:15 PM and my alarm had another 45 minutes to go. I wanted to kill him! Then the little fuck goes, “Thanks for waking me up.”

I told him it’s not my fucking responsibility to get him up. I also set his alarm and he said it didn’t work so he took his anger and frustration out on me by waking me up. Then the immature brat plays the answering machine messages back loudly, stomps his feet and sings at the top of his lungs. Is this guy ever going to grow up?

His favorite show had 20 more minutes to go when he left, and I had had it with his bullshit, so I stopped the VCR from recording.

He’s got two days to get the fuck out.

As for the good news and yes, believe it or not, there is good news. Very, very, very good news. I have not smoked since January 14th!!! No, I do not feel like I want one!!!!!

Later…

I let it all out in therapy today. About how despite the fact that there’s a lot of good in Andy, he’s also an immature, spiteful, selfish little boy who only will hear what he wants to hear. And how he’s got to either condemn or make someone miserable in some way when things in life aren’t going the way he wants.

He’s over crying on Brenda and Bonny’s shoulder now as he’s not man enough to face me. Like last night when he said how his mother said it was wrong for him to go to Brenda. I simply said, “Andy, you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do, believe what you want to believe, say what you want to say, and hear what you want to hear.”

He’s a wimp and even though he’s turned Brenda, Bonny and Steve against me, I know they’re really fed up with him crying on their shoulders and needing a babysitter. Of course, God help someone if they should be upset or sick and go cry on HIS shoulder.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 13, 1991 Well, I’m still feeling like shit, unfortunately. There’s no feeling worse than wanting to pick yourself up, be happy, be productive, but you just can’t. My asthma’s killing me and I’m still under mega-stress. Way more so than I’ve been in a long time. I mean, this has got to stop, but I feel helpless. Like I don’t know where to begin to help myself. It just isn’t always easy. I miss those days when I was productive non-stop and could physically bounce off the walls for endless hours. I was a dancer. Now I take two steps and my heart’s racing or I’m wheezing or both. I wanted to kill myself for getting so out of breath with only two bags of groceries to carry up. Two years ago I could’ve run up those stairs 20 times.

I still can’t stand having Andy here. Even if I lived with Brenda I’d go nuts, even though she’d be easier to live with cuz she’s more easygoing and calm compared to Andy.

Andy looked at a room on Mulberry St., but I’m afraid he’ll be here much longer than I can stand. Andy and I will remain friends, but I may move to CT since there’s nothing for me here and Andy and I will save money and then maybe move to PHX.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 9, 1991 It started to snow a few hours ago so I was off by one day but that’s still close.

Right now I’m listening to Andy, Fran, Tracy and Raven make prank phone calls. Raven was in the lip sync contest and never won. She was a pitiful drag queen and literally froze on stage, but seems to be a nice person. Fran’s taken him in for a month till he gets a job. Well, like Tracy said, Fran’s good for taking people off the streets.

Last night was a hell of a night. I had a severe migraine and was crying for hours in bed till I finally threw up twice. Of course, Andy didn’t give a fuck and I knew it so I held it in and suppressed the urge to scream out. I needed someone so badly last night. Well, I had to puke instead cuz Andy would’ve freaked if I woke him up. Plus, he’d rather make me feel worse than better. I get shit on whether I speak positive or negative about myself. The guy who’s supposed to be my best friend’s busy turning my friends against me and constantly talking shit to Brenda, Bonny, Steve, you name it. He said, both to me and others, more negative shit about me than positive.

I’ll write more later since all I have to talk to is this book unless I hold it in till I puke. But puking is better than trashing things, though I can’t believe I didn’t. Reaching out to people and communicating with them only gets me in trouble and misunderstood so I’d rather puke and lose weight.

MONDAY, JANUARY 7, 1991 Well, it didn’t snow today like I felt it would, but they say it may snow Wednesday.

I met this really nice nurse named Kim at Baystate ER. She’s super nice, open-minded, and the type you feel you’ve known for years the second you meet her.

She was on her way home when I was standing outside the ER entrance when I saw The Joy of Signing book in her hand and we took it from there. It turns out that we have a lot in common and I’m giving her sign language lessons. We’ve met 3 times so far and today she took me to Valley’s for baked stuffed shrimp in exchange for me to teach her sign language. However, she really is doing me a favor too, by giving me a chance to use my sign language and to keep on top of it.

Later…

From now on I must learn to be my own therapist. I shall try to discuss as much as I can about my feelings with myself or write them in this book. I always admired myself for being able to speak my mind but now I find it’s better to keep my mouth shut most of the time. Communication only starts fights and arguments. People often misunderstand the things I say and do and take me the wrong way so what’s the use? I’m gonna just start going along with as much as I can except for things like sex with an ugly woman or a man. I want to learn to talk less and be able to cheer my own self up when I’m depressed or sick as independently as I can.

I’m really proud of myself for last night. I had a massive asthma attack and I was terrified. I mean fucking terrified. I was crying tears like a leaky faucet, but I didn’t wimp out to anyone. I was about to dial 911 and say, “Look, it’s been hours that I’ve been trying to fight this off and I just can’t.” Yet even after being told at the ER what a risk it is to your heart and in other ways, I beat it on my own.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 5, 1991 I just took some decongestant medicine Brenda gave me and I'm so drowsy now.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 1, 1991 Age 25

New Year’s Eve sucked. First of all, Jimmy, downstairs, and I made a big mistake of picking up Fran and bringing him over. Fran embarrassed the shit out of Jimmy who had Mike and Lisa over. Mike and Lisa live next door in #11. Jimmy’s in #10 directly below me. He’s getting evicted which sucks. He turned out to be an ok neighbor. With my luck, some jackass will move in who’s the type that’ll freak if I have the stereo on the lowest volume.

Fran was drunk off his ass. He couldn’t stop playing with my hair, slapping me and Andy on our heads and he fucking raided the kitchen as if he hasn’t eaten in years. He’s not ever again coming over here.

Tracy was over tonight. She lost a lot of weight.

Andy and I had a huge fight and we shoved each other. Much later when we were calm we laughed about it, admitting we were glad we shoved each other to get our frustrations out.

I really do hate having a roommate and I explained to him that it’s gonna take some serious getting used to and adjusting. I’ve been alone so long and I do prefer it that way. 3 years or so ago I’d have jumped at the thought of having a roommate, but as I’ve gotten older, my desires have changed. Just like I really don’t care to be with a woman or to have a baby anymore. I do want to very occasionally have casual sex, but not with just anyone. I really wish someday I could have one night, just one night, with a woman I’m attracted to and I feel that spark with, rather than a woman who’s just ok. I know it won’t happen, though, and I accepted that a long time ago. Well, like I always said, better to fantasize about first best, rather than to settle for second best. Another reason that’s better about fantasy is that if the relationship is getting rocky, you can simply click it off and out of your mind. You certainly can’t do this in a real-life relationship.