#anyways wonderful spending of my time since I’m feeling sick today

[voltrixz]

Going from rewatching the book of life (I HAVENT SEEN THAT MOVIE IN YEARS. It was pretty awesome ) to watching black Christmas

[enwoso]

CHANGED — arsenal wfc x lionesses!reader

now i swear someone requested this but i literally can’t find the request in my inbox at all and i’m actually starting to think ive gone crazy and that i dreamt this request but anyways part two for hyper cause if i dreamt the request or not i loved it for what i can remember of it🙃

read hyper here

masterlist

it had been a few weeks since your chat with leah, and slowly your behaviour had started to change and not for the worse. but for the better!

it took a few more scoldings from leah and kim for doing  silly things like, putting food colouring in pelovas shampoo or folding over all the pages in emily's book she was reading or when kept interrupting steph when she was filming a thirty second clip for the media team it ending up taking the australian thirty minutes to film the video instead of a minute.

but after one to many sit downs with leah and kim something clicked in your head and your mischievous acts slowly stopped.

so much so that in the first few days when you hadn't pulled a joke on anyone, the arsenal girls were wondering if you were sick or if something drastic had happened.

the girls feeling on edge about not having to check over their stuff or checking over door handles incase you had gotten to them before they had.

“y/n are you sure your not sick, there’s no way you’ve just turned down kyra’s attempt to cause havoc again!”

“i’m a changed women stephy! that’s the old me!”

and while you were technically a changed women it was all because of that big goal you had looming over your head. that you wanted to reach.

getting to the euro 2025.

yeah you still pulled a small harmless joke like scaring alessia whenever she came around a corner but that was just banter plus her face every time you did it was priceless.

plus leah said you were allowed to have some fun!

"you've had a good session today y/n" kim complimented you as she sat down next to you in the changing room you busy taking off your boots, kim felt a lot more relaxed the past few weeks not having to look over her shoulder every time she took a step in the training ground.

"thanks kim" you smiled at the captain, "let's hope you have another masterclass this weekend ey?" she nudged you as a small laugh came from you as kim was bringing up your two goals you got last weekend in the league.

"i hope so" you shrugged, your mind wasn't really on the weekend as much as it should you were more concerned about if you were going to get the phone call tomorrow or not, which would determine where your family were having their summer holiday.

"you thinking about the getting the call up?" kim asked quietly knowing your head was clearly somewhere else due to your lack of chattiness, normally your teammates would have a hard time getting you to stop talking.

you hummed as you nodded, kim bumping her shoulder into yours. "you'll get the call up, there's been a massive improvement in you over the last few weeks y/n"

you looked up to kim, seeing a genuine look on her face, "i mean it, and not only on the pitch but off the pitch too!"

"gosh your full of compliments today kimmy! did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed" you joked as you watched kim roll her eyes a small scoff coming from her.

"anddd she back! there's the y/n i know!"

it was the next day and it was safe to say you hardly slept spending too long up thinking about what you would do if you didn't get the call up, all those extra sessions, all those days spent trying to change your behaviour would have been for nothing.

but also thinking about what you would do if you did get the call up, how happy you would be and how proud your family would be of you.

walking into the colony you were tired, you were dragging your feet as your walked. your body feeling tired and you hadn't even done anything today yet.

grabbing your usual breakfast and slouching down on a chair on the closest table. "heard anything yet?" you looked up to see leah raising her eyebrows at you. shaking your head you began to eat praying it would wake you up a little.

"the list doesn't get posted until 12 so—" you hummed along with whatever leah was saying before you along with the other who were sat on your table fell into your usual small talk.

"y/n! your phones ringing!" alessia tapped you on the shoulder, your eyes snapping to the phone screen an unknown number on the screen.

"well answer it then!" leah said quickly as you scrambled to answer. standing up and walking over to the stand in the hallway where you'd be able to hear whoever was calling better.

leah, along with beth, kim, lia and alessia were all looking trying to decipher what you were saying and what the scenario was.

"do you think she's got the call up?" beth whispered as leah was trying so hard to lip read what you were saying but was really having no luck as she hadn't a clue what you were saying.

"surely, she'd be a great addition to the squad for the euros" alessia pointed out as beth hummed, along with lia and kim nodding along.

"oh she'll be gutted if she doesn't get it" lia sighed as kim give a knowing look. while she was silently praying for you hoping that you would as she dread to think about your reaction if you didn't get it.

"will you shut up i'm trying to listen!" leah huffed as she scowl at the group before going back to try her lip reading again it feeling as though you'd been standing in that hallway on the phone for the last hour when in reality it had been probably less than ten minutes.

"how is she able to hear when there's a wall there-" alessia whispered in beth's direction as beth shrugged waving off what leah had just said.

"right act normal she coming back-" leah spoke fast turning her body back around to the position she was sat in when you left trying to make out that she hadn't just been intensely staring at the conversation you were having on the phone.

"oh no she doesn't look very happy-" lia whispered, you walking in a small frown on your face. as your shoulders were hanging low as you sighed sitting down in your original seat.

"oh- y/n i'm so sor—"

"I'M GOING TO THE EUROS BABY!" you cheered, your face changing in a split second from a frown to a big cheesy grin as the canteen when quiet for a minute as they all processed what you'd said.

the girls all jumped up hugging you and congratulating you as they told you how proud they were of you.

“what did sarina say?” beth asked as the celebrations calmed down and everyone had sat back down.

“she just said she’d seen how well i’ve been playing and she thinks i could be good option for a game changer at the euros” you said with the same smile, it not leaving your face and probably wouldn’t be for a long time.

leah sat listening to you as you recalled the phone call over to them, as she sat like a proud mother. "yes kiddo! switzerland won't know what has hit them!"

[yandere-sins]

Stuck in the Nightmare

I really had to think about this prompt because what nightmare could be made worse by a small change? And then I remembered my Obey Me! Phase and how unsettling Barbatos always was to me. And I realized what I had to do.

Fandom: Obey Me! Pairings: Yandere!Barbatos x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Minor Sexual Content (Consensual Groping and Fondling, Mentioning of Sex) Forced Captivity, Abuse of power, Magical Stockholm Syndrom, Mention of breaking a darling, Depiction of feeling sick Prompt: @sintember Horrifying concept, thank you - A small change in the world could be a nightmare.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Good morning, Dear."

Your lips curled into a sleepy smile as you felt Barbatos' lips press against your forehead, a kiss so tender it made you long for more. "Morning," you sighed blissfully, prying an eye open to see your boyfriend in all the glory of the morning sunlight shining through the window.

Moving aside, you made room in the bed for him to climb in, and you wasted no time sinking into his open embrace like you did every morning. No words were needed to speak about the happiness and love you felt when you were wrapped in Barbatos's arms, his time so precious, yet he spent every free second of it with you. And you reciprocated his affection as best as you could, squeezing your demon boyfriend until he chuckled about your efforts while you slowly worked your kisses up his throat and to his mouth.

Life's been better since you got to know him. Since you fell in love. Even if you had to spend most of the day apart due to his work, you were never happier waiting for someone to return to you. Barbatos was worth every minute of boredom, every hour of loneliness. He gave back thrice as much as you lost, wondering when he'd be home that night. Thrice as much effort, thrice as much care, and thrice the amount of true, unashamed love and adoration he held for you that you could never expect from a mere human. Although strange, you were thankful for your boyfriend being a demon, never once worried about all the implications it bore.

"What day is it?" you yawned loudly before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Barbatos brushed his hand over your hair, ever so slightly pressing you against him harder, showing you once again that he wanted you close to him just as much as you, him.

"Sunday, Love. Although it pains me, I'll be busy again today."

His embrace tightened around you a bit further, and it pained you to know how awful he felt about the fact he was too important to get even a single day off. Sometimes you cursed his employer, but Barbatos, gracious as he was, told you how much he cared about the prince you had heard so much about—good and bad. That he was grateful to be the right-hand man of such a great demon. You didn't really get it, but if it made him happy, you wanted to support him, no matter what. Even when it was the last day before you'd have to go back to work, too, and you'd rather spend it with him fully than to miss him like you had all weekend long.

Squeezing him back encouragingly, you nodded into his chest before releasing a long, content breath. "It's fine," you told him, rubbing his back as you felt the tension build in his body from your reply.

"I'm really sorry—”

"It's fine, Barbs. I know this is important to you, and I'm not running away. I'll stay inside today anyway since we're not in the human world, and I have this really good book I want to finish! And we can have dinner together or go star-gazing when you get home!

Immediately upon hearing your reassurance, Barbatos let out a shuddering breath. "I can't hide anything from you. Thank you for being so understanding."

"Of course!" Letting your head fall back, you caught his gaze, so full of tenderness and love, and felt your heart swell with the same wave of emotions. The kiss you shared was worth more than any confession and any thanks—mutual understanding, trust, a silent vow.

His hands brushed down your body, over the curve of your butt, giving it a squeeze that made you giggle against his lips. You gently scolded him for getting frisky with you before he had to leave. Barbatos couldn't help the playfulness in his voice as he promised, "I'll make it up to you and get your favorite food for you before I get to have a taste of my favorite thing in the world."

"Oh, you," you retorted, but the fake annoyance was quickly diminished by another kiss, your bodies heating up wherever they touched, making it harder and harder to get away while stoking the desire inside of you.

"I really got to go," Barbatos huffed against your lips, and you hesitated before pushing on his chest to separate you both.

"Then off with you, stop seducing me in broad daylight!"

He realized you were just joking around with him, yet, with another yearning glance, he briefly pecked your lips before tearing away, leaving an uncomfortable cold where he laid.

"I'll hurry," he assured you, and you smiled, sitting up in the bed. Truthfully, you already missed him, but you knew it was important to him, and so it was important to you.

"I know, don't worry about me."

"Thank you, Love."

With one last kiss to your forehead, Barbatos grabbed his coat on the way out, waving at you with an almost boyish grin. It was a side only you got to see, a side no one would expect from mysterious Barbatos. The real, vulnerable him, he could only show you. It made you feel special. You were special.

"I love you!" you yelled after him, and before he closed the door, he stuck his head through once more, beaming.

"I love you, too."

With that, he was gone, and you were alone in his home. Falling back into the cushions, you pulled the blanket and pillows around you, still faintly smelling Barbatos on them as they enveloped you in warmth.

Who would have thought you could love someone so much, especially someone not human? Sure, it sucked being stuck alone in the Devildom, but it would all be worth it when you got him all to yourself for the whole night again. A tingle went through your body, right to your core, where you still remembered the pleasure he had given you the night before. You could still recall the gentle, loving words he had whispered into your ear while, at the same time, making you see stars by probing and teasing the most sensitive spots on your body.

He wasn't just your boyfriend you doubted you deserved; Barbatos was also a lover beyond any imagination. Thrashing in the sheets, you couldn't believe your luck that someone like Barbatos loved you. That someone so amazing, wonderful, caring, and loving was yours. Because that's what he liked to call himself.

Yours.

All yours, with body and mind, for all eternity, devoted and reverently.

Your eyes filled up as the happiness overwhelmed you, the worries and agony of the past almost forgotten in the warm sunlight of the Devildom. Barbatos told you to stay indoors unless he was with you, and you couldn't wait for the day he'd take you outside and show you his city in all its beauty. Surely, with him by your side, nothing bad would happen to you, and you two would have the most exquisite experiences.

But that was a thing for another weekend.

Today would be a wonderful day of reading and waiting. Waiting for your Barbatos to return.

Slipping out of bed, you reached for the book on your nightstand, only for your fingers to hit the wood instead of the soft cover. "Strange..." you mumbled, vividly remembering putting the book right there on the nightstand. Or did you? Why did you remember reading in it before going to bed when it wasn't there?

Did you read it?

Looking over to the coffee table, you found your book sitting there. You suddenly remembered how you were reading on the couch the night before, then Barbatos coming home and taking you to bed after you had your favorite food.

"And I was reading on the couch because... it was Sunday. Huh?"

Didn't Barbatos say today was Sunday? You usually read your book in bed throughout the week, one chapter before bed being your credo. Taking the book over to the couch was something you only did on Sundays when you had no commitments and could fully concentrate on reading.

But why did you remember putting the book on your nightstand and reading it all day yesterday at the same time? That wasn't possible. Your own memories were betraying you!

"Ow!" a sudden, sharp pain rattled in your brain as you tried to make sense of your thoughts. It made you clutch your head as you collapsed on the bed, pulling in your legs as the pain began to overwhelm you. Something was wrong! You had to call Barbatos; call for help!

But you couldn't move as images flashed before your eyes, images of you laughing with your boyfriend, reading, having your favorite food. Again and again and again. The image of you putting the book on your nightstand was the most off-putting but real one you saw. You had no idea what was going on, but it hurt terribly. You couldn't even open your eyes from the pain, so all you could do was pray.

Barbatos's name was the last thing falling from your lips as you were knocked out by your own thoughts—your own memories. Memories of many days having passed by, all of them the exact same. And they haunted you, even in your dreams, with no chance of waking up without the man who loved you to shake you awake. Telling you everything was okay and it was just a bad dream.

Stuck in your own nightmares, never knowing you had been for a long, long time.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"The how-many-Sunday is it today?"

"I'm sorry?" Barbatos looked up from the teacup he was pouring, only to find Diavolo watching him from beyond the rim of the report he was holding. The prince's eyes were sharp, almost unamused in how they scrutinized his butler.

"You heard me." Lowering the paper, Diavolo made space for the tea to be served, which Barbatos did without hesitation. "This new exchange student project is based on trust with the other races. How can I explain why I let my butler keep his personal human toy in a constant time loop, locked up forever in my castle, while I preach about harmony and equality? And besides, don't you think they need some time in the real sun for once? I heard it's bad for humans to be cooped up for so long. Longer than possible with their physic, at least."

"Young Master, you are mistaken. The human is my partner, we love each other. Nothing as sinister as you are hinting at is happening."

"Then why repeat the same day over and over? Do you really think I wouldn't know what the constant thrumming of magic in the room I have given you on your request to 'educate the staff' is? I'd wager to say we've known each other long enough to know about each other's dirty secrets, Barbatos."

Standing before him, Barbatos maintained his perfect posture and pristine look, paired with a smile on his face, as he watched his master sip from the tea he had prepared. "Very well, my lord. You are not entirely mistaken, although I must say..."

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, Barbatos pretended to think about something before the smile returned to his lips. A smile said more than a thousand words, and although he only wanted you to see his, Barbatos had to keep up the front.

"If we are talking about preferential treatment, shouldn't you be the first one to give up on their highness, the consort that none of your subjects know about? I feel unfairly judged, considering my amusement loves and adores me, while yours plays the part but fears you. Don't you think we'd be better off keeping these two our own responsibility?"

Diavolo's glare was deafening as the room fell into silence. He'd expected the blowback, although his concern for Barbatos's darling was justified after his own experiences. Lowering the teacup, he sighed, giving a short nod of defeat. A wise ruler knew when to back down, and although the circumstances hadn't been ideal, his beloved was the reason he wanted to unite the races in the first place

"Very well, I won't nag you," Diavolo announced. "Just make sure they don't realize the time loop, or else you know the mess it will cause. We've been through this. Sometimes, it's better not to pretend the world is fine. If they truly love you as you say, they'll love you regardless, even when they realize that the love of a demon can be overwhelming."

"61685."

"Hm?"

"That's how many days they've loved me. I loved them. This time, I won't fail my duties, Young Master. At least, not how I have to you."

Barbatos bowed, as Diavolo couldn't help the sad smile flitting over his face, remembering the wonderful days when his darling had still adored him, never knowing they were stuck in a repeat.

"Then, be careful, Barbatos. One small mistake, and they'll realize nothing was ever real. You better not fail... for their sake."

Taking the advice of the experienced prince, Barbatos returned to his righteous posture, smiling as if the conversation had been petty small talk. The life of a demon was long—it was longer when they were alone. But now that he had you, he'd never have to suffer the same loneliness that had driven so many of his kin mad.

"I will, Young Master. Thank you for the advice."

He didn't pity Diavolo, who had long lost his heart to the most pitiful of creatures—a human who realized the true monstrosity beneath the prince's forced gentleness. But Barbatos wouldn't let it come to this a second time. Wouldn't make the same mistake Diavolo had, misplacing one item which managed to break the spell. He had been too careful, too precise this time.

He wouldn't lose you to such a small mistake, and even if he did...

He'd keep you forever, even if that meant breaking your soul into a thousand pieces until only his love could keep you together.

[salty-croissants]

what if Y/N was sick and Rayman/Ramon or Bullfrog take care of him/her? How could it be?

Thank you for the request ! 

I’m always happy whenever I get the chance to write the boys taking care of the reader :,) ❤️

Plus it’s pretty neat to complete this scenario since I wrote one where the reader takes care of them when they’re sick , very cool stuff ! 

Anyway , hope this turned out okay ! 

Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 

established relationships ; 

no warnings needed 

Bullfrog 💚

No matter how unnecessary you may think it is , Bullfrog will make sure that you get some rest for the rest of the day , and there is no way to convince him to let you keep working on what you were currently doing .

< Please , just a few more minutes … I need to get this done … > 

< I’m sorry mon amour , but I can’t let you do that . 

You haven’t been looking too good today , it really would be best for you to take a break . 

You can get back to it after you’ve recovered a bit , alright ? > 

< Heh … alright , thank you ~ > 

He is then going to fetch you everything you may need to feel as warm and comfortable as possible , almost materializing next to you out of thin air with blankets and drinks while constantly checking if you’re okay …

Bullfrog really does take his duty to take care of his beloved very , very seriously .

< Are you sure you’re comfortable like this , my dear ? Maybe I should bring you some more blankets , or - > 

< *chuckle* you’re always so sweet ~ I’m fine Bullfrog , don’t worry too much about me … > 

If he has no missions that day , Bullfrog will be more than happy to lay down next to you and spend some time together .

And if you get worried about him being so close to you when you’re sick ? Well , he’ll quickly ease you out of it …

< Are you sure this is okay ? What if I get you sick too ? I don’t want to - > 

< Trust me mon cher , I’m going to be just fine … all I want you to think about is relaxing and taking care of yourself . That’s all I need . > 

When you eventually start to fall asleep , Bullfrog loves to snuggle closer to you and hold you in his arms , his fingers tracing your back with a gentle motion while smiling lovingly in front of your beautiful face …

Every moment this frog gets to spend with you is wonderful , even just staying quietly by your side while you recover from being sick .

He’d then lean closer to leave a kiss on your cheek , whispering one last thing in your ear  before allowing his eyes to close as well …

< Good night , mon beau y/n … 

Je t'aime ~ > 

Rayman 🧡

Since you’re usually the one taking care of his health ( this man does tend to overwork himself to the point of exhaustion ) , believe me when I say that Rayman is determined to do all he can to help you now that you’re the one being sick :

you’re the one person that’s given him nothing but love and support despite his appearance , after all … making sure that you’re okay is top priority for Eden’s voice .

Similarly to Bullfrog , Rayman is going to make sure that you have everything you need to help you feel comfortable while you recover , giving you full access to all the comforts of his lounge : 

as his partner , he wants you to receive only the best from him .

< Are you sure you got enough pillows ? > 

< Mhm , these are so soft … I love them ! Thanks Ray ! > 

< Heh , anything for you darling ~ > 

If you’re having trouble to fall asleep I can definitely see Rayman sitting beside you and comforting you with his pretty singing voice …

The sight of you relaxing in his arms while he does this never fails to make his heart skip a beat , and he honestly couldn’t see himself feel this happy with anyone other than you ://)

Eventually though he has to return to take care of business related things , since the Board of Directors barely leaves him chances to breathe , and whenever that happens Rayman can’t help but feel really guilty at the thought of leaving you alone while you’re still sick … 

Though he’ll leave a kiss on your forehead before going out , as well as a note for you to read when you wake up .

“Sorry , had to leave for work …

Please take it easy for the rest

of the day honey , and if you need

something just call me and I’ll do 

all I can to be back as soon as possible ! 

I’ll see you later , I love you ! <3” 

Ramon 🖤

The second he notices that you’re not feeling well , Ramon is very quick to act : 

he just picks you up , no matter what you might’ve been doing , carrying you to the bedroom bridal style without getting even slightly phased by your attempts to not worry about you .

< I’m okay , really , you don’t have t - > 

< Nah , I think I do have to . 

Now come on , you need to lay down . > 

He definitely remains by your side the whole time , not only to be there for you now that you’re sick , but also to make sure that you don’t try to sneak out of the room to keep taking care of other matters …

Trust me when I say that you simply won’t be able to move an inch without Ramon noticing . 

< y/n , I see you over there … get back to bed . Now . > 

< Aww … I thought I had it this time … but really , this is nothing ! You don’t have to worry so much about me … > 

< I want to , love … I want to take care of you the same way you’ve always taken care of me . You’re not bothering me , you … heh , you never do . > 

If you feel like cuddling before getting some sleep , Ramon will be more than happy to oblige : 

he loves having you snuggled close , your warmth and the sound of your heartbeat taking away all of his worries for the time being while he peppers your face with kisses , smiling at your giggles …

The prospective of him getting sick as well doesn’t phase him : you never worried about that when taking care of him after all , so now this man is just determined to stay by your side regardless of the consequences , and no amount of attempts to convince him otherwise is going to work . 

< But what if you get sick too ? That would be bad ! > 

< Well , that means more chances to be this close to you … that doesn’t really sound bad , right darling ? ~ > 

< Pfft … ~ 

Alright , alright … just be careful , okay ? > 

< I will be . > 

Even when you eventually fall asleep , Ramon is going to stay awake , watching over you the whole time to prevent any possible surprises from any of Eden’s buddies : 

it’s not just his lingering fear to get caught , he simply can’t afford to lose you …

You’re all he has left , his only hope in that messed up world he’s living in , so he will protect you no matter what it takes . 

< Sleep well , y/n … I won’t let anyone hurt you , I promise . > 

[seenoversundown]

Siren

Jake x Fem OC (AU)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (Minors DNI) Soft Dom (M) edging, teasing (flirting way not bullying) Hand kink, Oral (M receiving) , Penetrative sex, Cursing, Fingering (F receiving), Cute fluff and silly jokes at odd times.

Word Count: 4.2k

Author’s Note: I love these two so much 😭 Once I had the thought for them, I had to write it 🩷

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Siren (noun) 1. any of a group of female and partly human creatures in Greek mythology that lured mariners to destruction by their singing

Charlotte POV 

Opening the doors to the bar, I take a quick scan to see who else is working. Seeing that my favorite spot at the bar was open, I swiftly made my way over to claim it as mine once again. Where is he?  Nobody is behind the bar at the moment, but I can hear movement out back. 

“Helloooo, my dear!” Josh’s voice rings down the hall. 

“Oh, hi Josh, how are you?” 

“Great now that you’re here,” he starts, which seems charming to most. Still, I know what that means, “I should be off momentarily. Well, as soon as my wonderful brother finally shows up,” he says with a complacent smile plastered on his face. 

“What are you and Quinn doing for the evening?” I ask. 

“I let Quinn decide because I got my gift this morning,” he tells me, followed by a wink. 

Oh my god, Joshua, what the hell. 

I slowly blink at him before I respond, “That’s great, Josh. I’m so happy for you.” If I didn’t have my makeup done right now, I would be rubbing my eyes until I saw stars. I never needed that image in my head. 

The door chimes ring, causing us both to look over. Mmm, there he is. Jacob saunters over to me; his eyes always seem to find me when he enters a room. In his usual button-up, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, only the bottom half of the buttons were actually done. I love the way he’s so comfortable having his chest exposed, and maybe it’s selfish because I daydream about curling up with him every night. 

“Hi,” his tiny, raspy voice mumbles. His hand gently cups my jaw as he places a sweet kiss on my lips, followed by a few little pecks. 

“Hi,” I manage to squeeze out in between kisses, “I missed you,” I can feel his smile through the kiss. I’ll never get over that, before pulling back and running his hand down the back of my head. 

“I always miss you, honey,” he says, rounding the corner behind the bar. “Did you not order anything yet?” 

I simply shake my head ‘No.’ 

“I was waiting for you to make it.” Resting my chin into my hand, I watch his eyes light up. His hand gesturing for me to wait a minute, he quickly puts a drink together for me. 

“A Boulevardier for you, m’lady,” the English accent he loves coming through. 

“What’s the occasion?” I ask, my eyebrow-raising out of skepticism. 

He shrugs as he backs away to take care of other customers who just sat down.  Knowing him, he probably feels terrible that he has to work today. I can’t really say much, I have been working all week, and this is quite honestly the earliest I’ve been off.  

I will gladly sit here all night, though. I may have a little surprise of my own... Even though Valentine’s Day is overrated? Hush, I know it’s silly, but a girl can have fun sometimes, okay?  Ever since I met Jacob, he’s been an easy target. That sounds mean.. I just mean he’s  still a man. Sometimes, I take advantage of that, and honestly, it benefits us both. 

Watching him work is practically a hobby of mine at this point, anyway. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of it, his hands, his hands, his hands. The way he has gotten so confident in making drinks and talking to customers, it’s been like night and day since I first came in. He can quickly pour drinks without having to measure, and seeing him shaking drinks is… I’m better than no woman, alright? He’s so fine, and watching his arm muscles flex. GOD.  This may be a more potent drink than usual. 

“I’m sorry, this is how we have to spend Valentine’s together,” he finally admits. And the truth comes out, about time, Jacob. 

“No, it’s okay, really.” 

“No, no, I’ll make it up to you,” he says softly, reaching over to grab one of my hands, “I promise,” finishing with a little wink as he runs his thumb over the back of my hand. He promises? 

“And how are you going to do that?” I can’t help but ask. I have been spending too much time around Josh, and now, I’m way too nosy for my own good. 

“I have some ideas,” he says quietly, “I think you’ll enjoy them.”

“I guess we’ll see,” I tell him, the smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. How is he real?  

“Did you make my drink stronger tonight, or is it just made with extra love?” I ask, knowing it’s a bit cheesy, but Jacob is a sucker for romantic things. 

“You think I’m just trying to get you drunk?” He cocks an eyebrow, “Because you may be onto my plan.” Slapping my hand over my mouth, I can’t stop the giggle from escaping. 

“Jacob!” 

He leans over the bar slightly, gesturing for me to come closer. I stand on the little footrest bar of the barstool, leaning over the bar to meet him in the middle. 

“Can’t wait to hear you yelling that later,” he whispers quickly before turning to press a kiss on my cheek. JACOB– Two can play this game. 

My jaw going slack; I don’t even know what to say to him. My lack of response to him elicits the most beautiful smile from him. Nothing makes my heart swell more than seeing that boy smile. I watch as he turns, hearing his name called from the other end of the bar.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The bar gets more crowded now that the night has gone on; every seat at the bar is filled. I’ve had the pleasure of not having to ask for refills but receiving them, along with a few saucy glances from the most delicious bartender I’ve met. 

I tap on my phone to scroll through any notifications when the idea hits me. I click on my messages, seeing his cute little face pinned to the top. 

Me: Maybe I am sad that we’re here on Valentine's Day.. 🥺

I hit send and then wait for him to look at his phone. Please, please, please. He slides it out of his back pocket  and unlocks it. Glancing over to me, giving me a little frown before quickly typing away. 

Jacob ❤️:  i’m sorry honey, just a little longer then I’m all yours. 

‘I’m all yours’ making my heart flutter. Jacob is the most wonderful person I’ve ever encountered, and somehow, he’s mine. 

I need to pee. I wave him down and point to the bathrooms, knowing he’ll ensure nobody takes my seat. I scroll through my emails as I walk down the hall into the bathroom, managing to catch one of them as someone is coming out. I glance at myself in the mirror as I walk in, and suddenly the lightbulb goes off. Mmmm yes. 

I look in the mirror, fix my hair, and check to make sure my lipstick isn’t all over the place. I open the camera on my phone, facing the mirror, and pull up one side of my sweater dress. Revealing the black lace garter snug against my thigh, knowing it would drive him crazy. Taking the picture, a slight pout on my face; he best think I’m hot. Tugging my dress back down into place and locking my phone, I head back to the bar. 

Sliding into my seat, he’s already clocked me being back. It’s cute how fast he’ll catch me. Noticing that my drink is full and fresh, I go to take a sip of it, but as I lift the glass, I see there’s writing on the napkin. 

‘You look beautiful, I can’t wait to get you home’ is scribbled across the top. I feel the heat rush into my cheeks about as quickly as my thighs tighten while I read it. 11:15 p.m. stares back at me, thank god the bar is closing early tonight I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I click on his messages again, choosing the picture I just took and hitting send. 

This is my favorite part. I sip on my drink for a few minutes before he finally reaches for his phone. Leaning against the back counter, I see him tap on his messages. Oops, is all that runs through my mind as I watch his entire face turn red. Looking up at the ceiling for a second and then back at his phone, zooming in and pulling his phone closer to his face to see my little present better. 

Jacob ❤️: holy shit 

Jacob ❤️: FOR ME?

Jacob ❤️: i need to thank everything and anything in the sky for letting you be mine. But really, youre so hot??? I’m so lucky? 

I love when he’s flustered. Who am I? I love him always. Flustered is just a cute bonus. 

Me: only 30 more minutes baby 🤭

The way he drops his head back when he’s struggling makes me giggle. The next thirty minutes need to fly by, or I think one of us may explode.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The moment the last customer walks out of the bar, Jake is right behind them to lock the doors. Shutting all the lights off in the front in one go before coming over to me. 

“You ready to go?” practically falls out of his mouth. I look around, you’re not clocked in right now, and look back at him.

“Don’t you need to clean?” 

“It can wait,” he says, pulling me closer to him, “You’re more important.” 

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press my body against his. 

“Baaaaby,” I coo into the crook of his neck. Feeling his hands run down my back and landing on my waist, he gently squeezes. He lets out a small ‘mmm’ that radiates through his chest.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. 

I grab my bag from the barstool, and Jacob already has my hand in his, pulling me down the hall. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Walking into the apartment, it’s dark, and no signs of life. 

“Josh?” Jake says, flipping on the lights in the kitchen, “Bub, are you home?” He walks over, gently cracking Josh’s bedroom door to see that it’s empty. Thank god. 

“He must be at Quinn’s,” I whisper, “He said something about  he let them choose tonight’s activities because he already got his gift.” 

I giggle as Jake shudders, “Hun, you don’t have to tell me everything he says to you.” 

“I had to hear it, so you also have to,” I giggle as he comes closer. “Plus, he’s YOUR brother, so.. it’s only fair.”

“I’ll let it slide this time,” he says, glancing down at my lips before making eye contact, “but only because I’m very interested in this surprise you have for me.”  

Grabbing his shirt and pulling him close, I take a second to admire him. I lean in, placing the tiniest kiss on the tip of his nose. Then, moving down to kiss the corners of his lips, oh, his lips. Seeing the little smirk creep up as I linger over his mouth, I love to tease him and see how long I can stay just a whisper above before he breaks. Tonight didn’t take long before he leaned into the kiss, feeling his soft lips press against my bottom one. Sliding my hands up, holding the nape of his neck as he gently nips at me.

His hands glide from my waist down to my thighs, grabbing behind my knees to pick me up. Instinctively, wrapping my legs around his waist. 

“Let’s go, Captain,” I whisper into his ear, eliciting the most delicious groan from him. He picked up his pace to the bedroom as I pressed a kiss just under his ear, letting lip prints trail down his neck. 

 Pushing the door open with his foot, he spins us around so he can sit on the edge of the bed with me on his lap. Sliding my dress up my thighs, revealing that black lace I’ve been taunting him with. 

“You really do love me huh?” He says, pulling back to look at me, his teeth on full display. I only reply with a quiet ‘mhm’ as I bring my hands back down to his chest, unable to keep eye contact when his mouth looks like that. 

Pushing his chest gently so he’ll lay back on his bed, I hover over him just for a second before he pulls me in for a kiss. This one was more desperate, practically whimpering into my mouth. Fuck me. His hands find the bottom hem of my dress, sliding it up and over my ass, the cool air drawing goosebumps to my skin. He grabs a handful while the other hand slides up to cradle my back. 

Swiftly flipping us over, he hovered over me with a devious grin on his face. He props himself up onto a knee, looking down to see the bottom of my lingerie on display. 

“Fuck me,” he mutters, sliding my dress higher as I arch my back to help him. 

“I’ve been trying,” I quip back, leaning up on my elbows. The look on his face is priceless, his jaw slacked and eyes hooded. I pull my dress over my head carefully and run my hands through my hair quickly. 

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

YES. I nod rapidly, reaching my hands out for the bottom of his shirt, lifting it just enough that I can barely see the small trail of fine hair. His hands find mine, gently pinning them above me.

“Mm mm,” he murmurs into my ear, sending a chill through my body, “You need to tell me what you want from me, hun.”

What.  “I uhh—“ I hesitate, distracted by how I can see down his shirt, watching his stomach muscles tense slightly. 

He’s staring at me with that one eyebrow cocked and a little smug smirk, holding both of my hands with one of his.

“Use your words, tell me,” his hand finds a place on the nape of my neck, as his thumb runs across my cheekbone, “I know you’re thinking it; just say it.” His voice switched to a whisper, causing goosebumps to creep in rapidly. 

Touch me, please. For the love of GOD, Jacob. 

“I need you,” I finally squeak out. 

He laughs softly to himself, “Do you want me to..” his voice trailing off as his hand slides down to my chest, gently resting on my sternum. Without having to do anything, I can feel my nipples start to harden; I swear his eyes light up at the sight. Quickly palming one of my breasts, he dances his index finger around me, and I’m already squirming. A small moan slips out, getting his attention. 

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Please, Jacob,” I softly whine, his hand wandering to my other breast. 

The smile on his face is taunting me. He knows exactly where I want him. If he weren’t sitting between my legs, oh god, my legs would be tightly together.

“Touch me,” laced with a moan, falls from my lips, “Please, Jake.” 

Letting go of my hands, he finds both of his sliding down my waist and holding onto my thighs, gently squeezing them. Fuck. Slowly moving them up, barely touching the lace fabric, my hips shift, trying to find relief. 

“Oh,” he says lowly, “This is what you want?” He ever so lightly drags a single finger down my lace-covered middle; I can’t stop the breathy moan coming from me. 

“More baby,” comes out whinier than expected, “please please please more.” 

“How could I ever say no to you?” His soft voice, wrapped in the most sultry tone, already has me in a chokehold when he dips his hand under the lace fabric. His fingers quickly find the perfect spot, making small circles on my touch-starved bud. The sounds pouring out of my mouth at this point are absurd. 

He slides his other hand up my thigh, his index finger gently dipping into me, not far but enough to elicit a small gasp from me. The way this man can have me drenched at the lightest touch is insane. 

I watch as he pulls his hand up, placing that same index finger into his mouth and slowly pulling it back out. FUCK he’s hot.

“My sweet girl,” he says, reaching up to caress my cheek for a moment before he taps my bottom lip, “let me—“ My mouth couldn’t open fast enough, he slides his middle and ring finger in and without hesitation I’m already swirling my tongue around them, hearing him moan quietly at the feeling. 

He pulls his hand slowly back but swiftly, finding my entrance and pushing them in. 

“Shit,” I mumble. 

Finding the right spot, he continues pressing into it, making that knot in my stomach tighter. 

“Come on, honey,” his voice makes everything even more overwhelming. “Need to hear how good you feel.” 

That pushes me over the edge, my back arching as I’m overcome with pleasure. A slew of ‘oh my god’s and ‘Jacob’ loudly escape my body. He slows down but still applies pressure as I come down. 

I reach my arms out to him, pulling him down on top of me, wrapping all my limbs around him. Turning my face into the crook of his neck, pressing little kisses all over him. 

“Feel good?” he mumbles into me. 

“Mhmm,” I hum against his warm skin, “It’s your turn,” Feeling his chest vibrate with a laugh, I hold him tighter against me. 

As he starts to sit up, I let go, missing his warmth already. We switch places; he’s sat up against the headboard. I immediately crawl up in between his legs, wasting no time as I unbutton the rest of his shirt, pushing it out of the way. Kissing my way down from his jaw to his collarbones, finding that slight dip in the middle of his chest. His hands make their way into my hair, brushing it away from my face as I press my lips into his soft skin just above his hips. 

Unbuttoning his pants alone makes him groan; his dick pressed tightly under the waistband, poor thing. Pushing them down with his boxers, my mouth is watering at the sight alone. Lightly tracing my finger up his length before fully wrapping my hand around him, carefully stroking him before wrapping my lips around him, and letting my tongue dance around him. Slowly taking more of him into my mouth, I glance up through my lashes to see his head tilted back against the headboard. Peering down at me, his mouth is barely open, but enough that his moans ring through my ears. I move up slowly and back down, going further so he’ll keep making those beautiful noises. As my nose just touches his stomach, I moan a little, causing his hands to tighten their grip on my hair. 

I come up, still working him with my hand as I line myself up with him. He slides the lace over as I lower myself onto him, his hands finding their place on my hips as I adjust to the feeling. 

“You feel so good,” he mumbles out, clearly focusing hard as his eyes shut softly. I roll my hips forward as he hits that spot again; oh god. Lifting my hips and dropping back down carefully, everything feels good. 

“Oh,” I let out, as he starts thrusting his hips up into me, slowly at first but building up speed. 

“Oh my god, baby,” I can’t hold back the moans anymore as he’s hitting the right spots, “Holy shit.” 

“Stand up for me,” he says as he slows his hips down. 

My legs shake as I lift myself off of him, stepping off the bed as he quickly follows behind. His hands snake around me, pressing his chest against my back, peppering kisses down my neck onto my shoulder. 

“I’ve been thinking about bending you over all night,” he tells me softly, “can you do that for me, beautiful?” I don’t answer him, turning and pressing a kiss against his cheekbone and then leaning down and stretching my arms out. 

His hands graze my ass as he steps closer; I can’t help but wiggle myself against him, teasing him until his palm swats at me with a small clap. 

“Mmm, have I been bad, Captain?” I turn my head to see him from the corner of my eye, trying not to giggle at how ridiculous that sounds. 

His head falls backward as he lets out a belly laugh. He leans over me and presses a kiss in between my shoulder blades.

“Soooo bad,” he says with a wink. 

He lines himself up with me, gently pushing himself in, and god is it good. Feeling his hipbones pressed against me before he starts pumping himself into me. This angle is probably my favorite, feeling so full from him and it’s hitting all the right places. 

“Harder, baby,” comes out a bit louder than before, with a loud moan right behind it. His hand sneaks around me, going back to its rightful place in between my legs and adding some friction to my throbbing clit. The sensation of his hand mixed with the feeling of him behind me. I swear I’m in heaven. 

“Don’t hold back, honey,” he tells me. “Told you I wanted to hear you scream my name tonight, let it out.” 

‘Oh my god,’ slips out as the tension builds again. I’m so close.

“Need to feel you come for me.”

His voice, mixed with his hand and his hips digging into my ass, sent me over the edge. I can’t refrain from the loud ‘Jacob’ that comes out of me as my orgasm tingles through my body. His hips slow a bit as he rubs my sides, waiting for me to come back to earth.

“God, you’re so hot,” he whispers, making us both giggle for a second. “This isn't gonna last much longer, hun.”

I reach back and tap his leg so he’ll step back, pulling out slowly. I push myself up from the bed, turning to face him and sinking to my knees. Wrapping my hand around him and pumping a few times before I lick a stripe up the length of him. Letting him slide into my mouth, I tap on his hip twice, and he starts to thrust gently. He carefully gathers all my hair, wrapping his around his hand and holding the back of my head. 

“I’m gonna-” he starts, and before he can finish, I bob my head so he goes deeper. The delicious moan he lets out fills my ears before I feel his release. His head falls back as he rides out his high. I swallow as he pulls back, letting my hands glide up his stomach, enjoying the bliss on his face before he opens his eyes. 

His hands grab mine and pull me up to my feet. Quickly grabbing the sides of my face, giving my lips a quick glance before smiling into me. His soft lips pressed into mine, taking turns trying not to smile, giggling at each other as he peppered my face with tiny pecks. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

My legs are tired as I walk into the living room and find Jacob sitting on the couch watching whatever Hallmark movie is on the TV. I shouldn’t be drooling over him already, but when he’s just there with no shirt and in his sweatpants, I can’t help myself. I can’t believe he’s MINE.

“Hi there,” he says, reaching out for me. “Feel better?” As I’m crawling into his lap.

“Much better. The shower was needed after all of that.”

Wrapping his arms around me as I curl up like a kitten on top of him, this is my favorite place to be. I tuck my face into his neck, enjoying the warmth of his skin. Quietly toying with his necklace, fixing the chain so the clasp is in the right spot. We sit in the quiet, the background noise of the cheesy romance on the TV keeping it from being silent. 

“Are you hungry?” he whispers.

“I’m starving, actually,” I giggle back.

“Thank god,” the relief evident in his tone, “I’ll make us something quickly.”

“Jacob,” I glance at the clock, “It’s almost 2 a.m.” 

“Already back to my full name?” he asks, raising his eyebrow. My mouth falls open; I tend to full-name him, but honestly, I just love it. 

“You know what,” I start, holding eye contact with him, “Carry on. Thank you, baby.” There’s that smile. 

“I could just call you Captain,” I tease, giggling as he turns around.

Pointing at me with a wooden spoon, “Don’t start something you’re not gonna finish, hun.” 

Standing up from the couch, I make my way over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning my face against his back as he cooks. Fiddling with the waistband of his sweatpants until he grabs my hand.

“Alright now,” he mumbles, “what did I just tell you?” his laugh vibrates through his body. 

“And who said I can’t finish it?” 

He turns around promptly, that devilish smirk creeping back onto his face, “care to try your luck?”

“Whenever you want, Captain.”

Masterlist | Taglist | Caravel Tavern Series Masterpost

Taglist Besties: I may have had a little Jakedown and this happened 🤭 Hope you enjoy xoxo

@gvfsstardust , @myleftsock , @mindastreamofcolours , @dont-go-home-without-me , @literal-dead-leaf , @lizzys-sunflower , @mackalah , @klarxtr , @edgingthedarkness , @writingcold , @i-love-gvf , @takenbythemadness , @ladywhimsymoon , @earthgrlsreasy , @peaceloveunitygvf , @violet-hayes , @musicspeaks , @anythingforjtk

[satansapostle6]

Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content. Violence.

“The Baby Sister”

“The Family Legacy”

Rodrick couldn’t stop thinking about Sara in the past week since they first started to become friends. It was a sickness.

Today alone, he thought about her first thing in the morning, as he opened his eyes and woke up, as he was brushing his teeth(he hoped his breath didn’t smell bad), as he put on his deodorant(he hoped he didn’t smell bad), as he got dressed, while he drove to school, and all throughout his classes.

He knew he had to do something about his feelings for Sara, because they were really starting to become apparent to most of the other people in his life. This, of course, included his band mates, although Chris and Ben also had eyes for Sara Walter, just like any of the other boys who saw her. Rodrick figured the only reason Sara wasn’t as popular as Heather Hills was because she just didn’t want to be.

Sara spent most of her time in and out of school alone, so naturally Rodrick felt pretty important when she decided to spend her time in his company. She typically came with Bill to band practices in Rodrick Heffley’s garage, where she served as quite the distraction to her brother’s younger band mates.

But that day, the members of the charmingly spelled Löded Diper were busy trying to put together a decent set list, for a small backyard party. Rodrick had been standing around with his arms crossed, rolling his eyes as he and Bill watched Ben and Chris argue over songs. Sara, who sat on the couch, decided she’d tune out all the arguing and work on her flash of potential tattoo designs.

“Will you two just shut the fuck up so we can figure this out?!” Rodrick groaned.

“Just give ‘em a few minutes, little bro,” Bill offered his wisdom as he patted him on the shoulder. “Oh. Dude. I almost forgot.”

“What?” Rodrick asked him in fear, thinking it was some sort of band emergency.

“You should totally ask Sara Bear to come to the party with you!” Bill whispered urgently, eyeing his sister to make sure she wasn’t listening in.

“But… can’t Sara drive herself?” Rodrick questioned.

“No, dude, like on a date!” Bill urged him.

“…What?” Rodrick asked skeptically.

He didn’t know anything about having a sister, but he was certain there was no way any guy would willingly encourage his friend to ask his younger sister out.

“Yeah, man, she’s crazy about you!” Bill insisted. “It’s so obvious!” he scoffed.

“She ashed her cigarette on me the other day,” Rodrick frowned, not trusting him at all.

“That’s how she flirts!” Bill exclaimed. “If she did that to you, you’re in! I mean…Not in. That’s still my baby sister. But, anyway, dude, she likes you.”

“…Really?” Rodrick asked, deciding if anyone knew Sara, it had to be her brother.

“Yeah! You should ask her out. Right now,” he encouraged.

“Okay!” Rodrick exclaimed, walking over to the couch. “Thanks!”

“Yeah, anything for you, brother!”

He then realized that, just like the first time he ever had a real conversation with Sara, he had gone over there with no plan. But, it was already too late, so he decided to just go with it.

“Hey, Sara Bear!” he blurted out, visibly cringing and once he realized what he’d said.

“Hey… Roddy,” she frowned humorously, “What’s up?”

“Uh… I was thinking,” he began.

“I’m impressed,” Sara nodded approvingly.

“No…” Rodrick massaged his temples in frustration as he tried to come up with something good, naturally failing. “I was wondering if you were gonna go to our gig this weekend? At the house party?”

“Yeah,” she replied supportively, “I’ll be there.”

“Alright! Totally! Cool…” he trailed off, trying to regain his composure. “Uh… I was thinking, that, maybe… I don’t know…” he struggled to the point of completely abandoning his train of thought.

“Huh?” she asked in confusion.

“Uh, I don’t know, I just wanted to see if maybe you’d, uh, wanna…”

“Go out with you?” Sara offered, coming to the conclusion before he did.

“Yes! …Yeah,” he nodded, trying to still seem somewhat cool, even if that wasn’t really an option.

Rodrick stood there awkwardly, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his grey jeans.

“Yeah,” Sara nodded with a smile. “For sure.”

“Really?” he laughed, catching himself just as she did. “I mean. Really?” he flirted.

“I know Bill put you up to this,” she smirked, eyes glancing at her older brother for a split second, “He’s been talking you up to me for the past week. He’s a real wing man, by the way.”

“Oh. Cool,” Rodrick remarked, slowly turning to look back at Bill, whose widened eyes suggested he was desperate for an update.

Completely clueless, Bill gave Rodrick a questioning thumbs up as Sara watched. Rodrick slowly made an awkward thumbs up, to which Bill nearly reacted by jumping up and down and shouting. After that, Rodrick returned to the band, feeling rejuvenated.

Just before 6 o’clock, Mrs. Heffley poked her head into the garage, watching as Chris and Ben both took off. Bill and Sara still remained, as Rodrick discussed various details of a song with the thirty-five year old.

“Rodrick? Dinner’s ready,” Susan said.

“I’ll be in in a minute, Mom,” he called, “I’m still talking to Bill and Sara,” he said patiently, pointing out his friends standing in front of him.

“Well, I told you that dinner was ready ten minutes ago, and we’re not eating until everyone’s seated at the table,” she stated calmly. “If you still have things to discuss with your friends, you can do that at the table. We have plenty of food,” she offered.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Rodrick assured her, “Bill and Sara were just—”

“Oh, Mrs. H, we’re starving!” Bill spoke for his sister before she could protest, “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled warmly, “Come on in. I made spaghetti.”

“I love spaghetti!” Bill exclaimed childishly as Rodrick and Sara exchanged looks.

The pair of siblings followed Rodrick into the Heffley house. Bill was much more excited, while Sara seemed a lot more tentative.

“Guys, Rodrick’s friends will be joining us for dinner tonight,” Susan Heffley smiled.

Rodrick took his usual seat beside Greg, who seemed to see Sara’s presence as an opportunity. Rodrick glared at him angrily, as Sara sat down directly across from him, next to Bill.

“I’m so sorry,” he mouthed to her silently, only to receive a tiny ‘it’s okay’ back.

“So, we know Bill,” Susan began, turning to Sara, “I’m sorry, sweetie, what was your name?”

“Sara,” she smiled timidly. “I’m in the same grade as Rodrick.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Frank said pleasantly as he filled his plate. “You go to Crossland?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, hesitantly putting food on her plate as Bill piled a mess of salad and spaghetti onto his.

“Oh, wow. And Bill’s your older brother?” Susan asked.

“Yeah,” Sara nodded, as Frank Heffley completely froze.

Rodrick’s father’s face froze as Rodrick tried to stop him from making a scene, only to be completely ignored.

“I’m sorry, your Bill’s sister?” the man asked shakily.

“Dad…” Rodrick said nervously.

“Yeah,” Sara responded, not seeming as awkward.

“Rodrick’s taking my baby sister out this Saturday,” Bill announced proudly with a mouthful of meatballs. “He’s been crushing on her all week,” he teased.

Greg turned to Rodrick, eyes widened in fear as both of their parents slowly took in the girl’s appearance, from her balayage, to her thin eyebrows, to her loose-fitting grey sweater that she wore off the shoulder. Luckily, she seemed somewhat more conservative without makeup.

“…Oh,” Frank gasped, still in shock. “So that was your cigarette out there last week?” he concluded, seeming horrified.”

Rodrick was horrified.

“What?” Susan questioned, having no idea what he was talking about.

“You’re the girl Greg told us about that was smoking?” Frank continued.

“Dad!” Rodrick exclaimed, mortified.

“Uh, no, Mr. Heffley,” Sara said quickly, “I don’t smoke… That must’ve been my cousin Cindy that was with me, we hang out a lot, so she’s always with me.”

“Yeah,” Bill agreed, realizing this was his fault,“Cousin Cindy’s a huge smoker. Coughs up a lung every morning.”

“Yeah, Dad, I wasn’t talking about Sara,” Greg promised, feeling uncomfortable.

“Oh,” Frank murmured, allowing himself a moment to adjust, “Sorry. That was rude,” he smiled, trying to be disarming.

“Yes, it was,” Susan agreed with her husband. “So, Rodrick, you’re finally introducing us to your girlfriend?”

Greg nearly choked on his food from laughter as Rodrick’s mouth stood agape in horror.

“Mom!” he gasped, mortified.

Sara just looked across the table at Greg, seeming to just be appreciating the humor in the situation, if anything. Rodrick said nothing to her, and just have her an apologetic grimace.

“We’re not dating!” he cried.

Sara tried her best to hide her involuntary grin at the absurd situation.

“But, aren’t you going out on a date?” Susan asked.

“Honey, just let them be,” Frank said calmly, “They’re just kids…”

“Well, I just wanted to know!” the woman argued.

Rodrick watched powerlessly as Sara uncomfortably looked down at her plate, feeling horrible. He didn’t know what to do to help the situation, but he felt even if he could think of something, it probably wouldn’t work anyway. There wasn’t much he could do for either of them at this point.

Sara sat in her seat quietly throughout the meal, only speaking when spoken to, and constantly looking to her brother to signal that they should leave. But, unfortunately for her, her brother was Bill. Bill didn’t seem to be getting the hint. It was probably another 45 minutes or so before he announced that they’d be leaving.

“Alright, Mr. and Mrs. H, it’s been real, but me and Sara Bear gotta go,” Bill said as he stood, “We’ll catch you guys later!”

“Alright, take care,” Susan Heffley smiled, a strange discomfort behind her eyes.

“See you,” Frank smiled.

“I’ll, uh, walk you guys out,” Rodrick volunteered, standing with them.

He awkwardly walked behind Sara, hand anxiously hovering over the small of her back as he ushered her out of the house.

“I am so sorry,” he sighed, looking at Sara to see if there was a chance he’d ever see her again.

“Aw, don’t be!” Bill said cluelessly, “I had a great time!”

Sara just shook her head as they all walked out the front door.

“Bill, can you start the car?” she asked politely, intending on having a talk with him later.

“Oh, I get it,” he smirked, looking up at Rodrick, “You two want some alone time.”

“Yes, we do,” she agreed impatiently, waiting for him to walk away before directing her attention back to Rodrick. “So…” she grimaced.

“So…” he genuinely had no idea what to say at this point.

“Sorry, I tried to get Bill to leave, but… you know how he is,” Sara sighed.

“No, it’s fine. My parents don’t hate you guys or anything. They just think I’m gonna turn out like Bill,” Rodrick frowned, not hearing himself.

“Yeah. So do mine,” she assured him. “That’s kind of the problem with them.”

“Well… I actually think you’re really cool the way you are,” Rodrick thought aloud, not sure if he sounded stupid.

“Thank you, Rodrick,” Sara nodded, looking up at him in a way that made his knees buckle.

“You’re welcome,” he stared back, still terrified of her.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as she left, worried that if she showed how excited she was everything would immediately start to go wrong.

“See you tomorrow,” he echoed, watching her as she left.

The car ride home wasn’t too bad for Sara. It was easy explaining to him where he went wrong with Mr. and Mrs. Heffley, but it was more difficult for Sara to get him to see the problems with their own family.

“Bill, we saved up enough money,” Sara sighed as they arrived at home. “We could get an apartment, easily. You can be my guardian until I’m 18. We both make enough money—”

“Sar, I told you, we can’t,” Bill sounded heartbroken listening to his sister. “We can’t just leave Connor!”

“Bill, forget about Connor!” she argued, “We need to think about us, just this once!”

“That’s Mom’s job,” he reminded her, “That’s all she’s ever done, is think about us. We can’t just leave her.”

“Bill, she’s an adult, and so are we,” Sara scoffed, looking at the house that wasn’t their childhood home from the sidewalk. “I can’t stay in that house anymore, Bill. Not after that night.”

The incident of three weeks ago was still a very sensitive topic in their household.

“Look, I get it, I really do,” her older brother promised, “But it’s just a couple more years. Less than a year. And then you can do whatever!”

“And what about you, huh?” she demanded. “You’re just gonna stay here, forever, in the basement? Just because of Connor?”

“He needs us!”

“He’ll be okay!” Sara insisted. “It’s not like we’re leaving the country, we just need a little space! We both did our time in that house, and now we need to get out for our own good!”

“I can’t do that,” Bill said with finality.

“Can’t, or won’t?” she questioned, looking him in the eyes.

“I can’t. I can’t leave Connor.”

“You can’t leave Connor, or you can’t leave Mom?”

“I’m not leaving, Sara,” he said softly. “You can. But I have to stay. Okay?”

From the pained look on his face to the glassy reflection in his eyes, Sara knew she couldn’t press it any further. She was angry, and she needed to leave, but she knew her brother had been hurt enough.

“Okay,” she nodded, dropping the subject entirely.

“Okay,” Bill nodded vigorously, sniffling as he tried to regain his youthful energy.

The more Sara looked into the darkness of his eyes that night, the more she realized that it was his childhood that had aged him so.

“Please, for the love of God, Sar,” he sighed, before they walked up to their house. “Just don’t start with him.”

“I won’t start with him if he doesn’t start with me first,” she muttered as Bill opened the door for her.

The two quietly entered their home, hoping they wouldn’t be noticed and could just slip by. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case.

“You guys sure are home late,” said a voice that made them both shake.

Randy Sharpe, their stepfather, was seated in the living room, reading a book written by a man who could supposedly make anyone a millionaire.

“We had dinner at the Heffleys’,” Bill said through gritted teeth as Sara stopped behind him.

“It’s not even 7 yet,” she said quietly.

“What’d they feed you?” the man asked, being the only one that found humor in his musings. “Caviar on toast?”

“Spaghetti,” Sara interjected. “They’re nice people.”

“And I’m not?” he looked up from his book.

“Yeah, you’re a real peach, Randy,” Bill muttered, creeping off toward the basement as their mother entered the room.

“Hey, Bill. Hey, Sar Bear. How was practice?” Destiny Sharpe asked, intentionally moving the conversation along.

“Good, thanks, Ma,” Bill walked off.

“You know,” Randy chuckled, watching him as he took off his reading glasses, “It makes sense, letting that one come and go as he pleases, I mean… he’s half gone already, but Sara’s still a kid,” he pointed out, pointing his glasses at her.

“Randy, Sara’s sixteen, she’s old enough to not have to come home before 7,” Destiny chuckled, still finding the situation humorous, “Besides. When she works, sometimes she’s not home ‘til 11.”

“What does she need a job for?” he questioned. “She’s a kid!”

“So are you, Randy,” Sara used his name like an insult.

“Hey,” her mother frowned.

“What, he gets to sit there and criticize us all day, but the second someone responds, he’s only human?” she gestured to him in disbelief.

“Hey. Show your mother some respect,” Randy said sternly.

“You first,” Sara cocked her head at him. “Has Mom even seen her paycheck this month? Huh? Could she even tell me how much it’s for, or do I have to go through your ‘accountant’?”

“That is enough,” Destiny interrupted, “Sara, have you been smoking? Weed, that is, because I can smell the box 100’s from over here.”

“I wish,” she responded honestly, glancing over at her stepfather. “I don’t know how else anyone deals with him.”

“What was that, a shot?” Randy butted in. “Taking shots at your mother now?”

“Don’t get any ideas, I’ve seen that shitty Glock you own.”

“Sara!” her mother exclaimed. “You shut your mouth right now—”

“Mom?!”

Everyone looked up at the top of the stairs in a panic as a small twelve year-old looked down the stairs.

“Have you seen my PE shirt?” Connor asked.

Destiny squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm herself for a moment. “Uh… Yeah, baby! It’s in your drawer!”

They all watched him run back up into his room, silently looking around at each other.

“You two need to learn to get along if you’re going to live under this roof,” Sara’s mother pointed at the two of them warningly.

“Or, you could just throw him out on his ass like you should’ve years ago,” Sara crossed her arms.

“Sara,” Destiny glared, finger pointed accusingly, “You best believe that the first of the two of you to be thrown out of this house wouldn’t be Randy.”

Sara tried to contain the hatred growing within her as Randy mockingly pumped his fist in silence as his wife walked away.

“You know, Sara Bear,” Randy said with a smile, “I don’t know why you’re so determined to hate me. I’ve never laid a finger on you, or your mother. You kids wouldn’t have survived a day with my father.”

“You might not have ever hit my mom,” Sara admitted, “But I wish you would. Just so she’d realize what kind of person you are.”

Before she could lose control, Sara ran off into her room, luckily without doing anything she would regret. Not having any other options left, she angrily sank her fist through her door, putting another hole in it just like the one her middle brother had left in it after Bill shoved his head through it.

Ever since he left, Sara had times where she’d almost forget their brother Paul. They never spoke about Paul, and Paul never spoke about them. Sara envied Paul.

-

“The Date”

[gravesung]

Two neatly wrapped boxes & a small card is left at the door. Both gifts are customized blind boxes — one of chiaki & the other of genki ( all of them go together to form one cute couple pose ).

The card :

Chiaki,

Happy holidays ( insert very poor doodle of their heads chibi style )! Sorry I’m not there for Christmas. I’ll be back New Years Eve, though. Feel free to open everything before then, but call me at least so I can pretend like I’m there.

One more thing. You might’ve noticed the key by now and there’s a question I’ve been dying to ask … Will you move in with me?

It’s okay if not, I understand, but that key leads to my actual home — no move in required. Just wanted to offer the option to hang out or lay low whenever you need it. Stick it in any door lock ( it won’t break, promise ) and you’ll be taken there. Oh, and heads up — there’ll probably be a lot of strays around 👍🏻

Can’t wait to spend the new year with you,

Genki

IT'S HER FIRST CHRISTMAS WITHOUT her parents. after spending the twenty-third sobbing in their empty apartment, chiaki packed up her things and took the train to see her grandmother, dull-eyed as she passed the most beautiful landscapes she'd ever seen.

the first time.

she and her grandma made food together, and talked, and laughed, and she did a lot of crying there, too — there was no end to the crying, perhaps her soul's retribution for the dry-eyed numbness of her parents' funeral, or perhaps more like a rubber band breaking, she still isn't sure. and for the first time since she was ten years old, chiaki sat down at the loom and helped her grandmother spin silk.

it did nothing to lift the lead-weight in her heart, but given genki being pulled away for last-minute work, it was nice not to spend the week alone. if there is one thing chiaki has learned from this ordeal, it's that your heart can be broken in the most brutal, wrenching way, but no matter how bad the pain is, you're still alive. still breathing, stepping forward, stepping forward.

the gifts from genki are a very welcome surprise upon her return. she looks through the silly little miniatures, feels the material in her hands, snaps a few pictures of them assembled to send to genki later. she turns the key over in her hands. she reads the letter aloud.

will you move in with me? at first, chiaki wonders if the offer is a joke that she doesn't get. a reference to some silly inside bit between the two of them. but everything genki does is so thoughtful, carefully-considered (unless she's throwing herself into trouble and worrying chiaki sick) — slowly, and then all at once, it hits her. of course it's a serious offer. genki is serious about them. serious about her.

god, what is it with the crying today? she's already scrubbing away a fresh round of tears by the time genki answers the phone, and the first thing chiaki has to do is assure her not to worry about the sound of her voice. that she's okay, and that yes, yes, of course she'll move in with her. why stay in this ratty old place, anyway? it's full of ghosts. she'd like to spend her days and nights among the living, thank you.

on new year's eve, genki is greeted immediately with an eager kiss. as it turns out, it's a lot easier to move your essentials when you only need to pass through a single door. the rest can come later. they have all the time in the world.

[lemmetreatya]

oil rig worker reiner

SEE! because you GET IT! the obscure occupation!character prompts are the way forward!! but honestly though, knowing how oil rigging is like a sorta manly job, it once again fits right in tune with reiner. oil riggers are his kind you see. they’re his PEOPLE. but also forgive me for taking this as a chance to make ererei propaganda 🧎🏾‍♀️

Being away at sea most of the time either did two things to you; Subject you to be in awe of it’s reverencing vastness, or succumb you with an unbearable fear of just how vast it was and therefore instilled fear within the deep bosom of your chest.

For Reiner, it was both, and in someway, he thinks that’s ideal.

Because he genuinely did love the sea for what it was. Being up on the rigging most of the time meant he was too high up to dread it like a sailor would and so in result, he had plenty a moments to wonder at it in reverence. However, it also meant he was always witnessing the never-ending stretch of water which ultimately humbled him.

“Braun; You gonna spend all day dreaming or eventually get back to work?”

Reiner knows that voice from anywhere. How could he not, it’s one of the most poignant voices he knows and one he never wants to forget.

Turning round to be met with his favourite shade of verdigris eyes, Reiner addresses Eren with a smile.

“Think I’m gonna spend it daydreaming. Hopefully of you and the sea.” He muses.

Jaeger blows an airy snort through his nose as he jolts Reiner with his elbow. He comes to join him by the side railing that looked starboard.

“You’re so fucking cheesy.”

His voice grumbles in protest but the insult lands void concerning his eyes gleam with nothing but adoration for the blonde.

“But you still love me though.” Reiner coos as he leans his head in front of Eren’s, quickly snagging a sea salted kiss from his chapped lips.

Eren indulges in the affectione, enough for it to not be counted as a make out, but once Reiner cups the side of his face in order to poke his tongue pass his lips, Eren’s pulling back.

“Don’t.” He half-heartedly mutters. “Someone could be watching.”

Reiner steals one more peck from him before pulling back and shrugging.

“Then let ‘em watch. Bet they enjoy the voyeur stuff anyways, the sick fucks.”

Suddenly, Eren gets fidgety as he starts to chew at his index finger nail between his teeth. Blackened with the toil of a day’s work but still Reiner’s favourite hand to hold.

Lolling his head to the side, Eren nudged Reiner’s thigh with his knee.

“Come by my cabin tonight.”

The blonde looks down at the brunette with a benign face of confusion. He endearingly brushes a cowlick hair that droops over the side of Eren’s ace.

“Isn’t that what we do most nights? Although, since you hosted me last time, I think it’s my turn to—”

“Kojo and Akande have functions in the Warm Space today. Most of the boys have family visiting for dinner so my room will be free for a bit.”

There was a stout pause between the two.

Reiner’s hand is momentarily stuck by Eren’s ear as he reels in his words. He knew exactly what a free cabin meant and the opportunity it granted them both, but he wasn’t sure if he was prepared for that tonight.

“I-I don’t have any condoms on me, Bert forgot to send them for my monthly package so…I don’t…”

Eren shook his head. His teeth were still biting down on his nails but the way he looked up at Reiner with those bucky eyes of his made all the difference.

“Don’t worry about all that. Just, show up. I’ll sort out the rest.”

Reiner lowers his hand from Eren’s vicinity. His throat was suddenly dry but not in a bad way. More in the aspect that he suddenly had something other than tonight’s dinner to look forward to.

Pensively looking back towards the sea, Reiner rang the safety railings between his hands. He slightly leaned back as he used the metal rod to support his weight.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll just show up.” He said in a calm tone, although inside he was feeling anything but.

With a nod of his head, Eren patted Reiner’s back.

“Good. See you tonight.”

The brunette reached up on his tiptoes to quickly press a kiss to Reiner’s bearded cheek before making his way back inside.

[stannyramirez]

𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞

 ❝Not a side or a main, I’m the only bitch he entertains. ❞

 ❝All my battles have been won but the war has just begun. ❞

 ❝The city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me? ❞

 ❝As in heaven as on earth, we’ve been dead since our birth. ❞

 ❝Thank God I ain’t have to smack a bitch today. ❞

 ❝If I see you in the street, bitch, your ass is done. ❞

 ❝I don’t need your opinion, I do what I fuckin’ want. ❞

 ❝If he don’t eat it, he a d-bag. ❞

 ❝I’m killing myself when bitches would kill to be me. ❞

 ❝He keep calling, I ignore it. he says I’m crazy. Don’t I know it? ❞

 ❝I’d rather just do it then I’ll think about it later. ❞

 ❝I never learn my lesson, so I always do it twice. ❞

 ❝Say something once, why say it again? ❞

 ❝Cut deep and I’m still alive, I’ll talk my shit ‘til the day I die. ❞

 ❝They won’t fix it, they ain’t with ya. They won’t muzzle the mouth that just bit ya. ❞

 ❝Might show up to the party with a blunt — might get stoned, might get drunk. ❞

 ❝Walking passed the mirror like, ooh, damn, I’m fine. ❞

 ❝Haunted house, I make him scream. ❞

 ❝Bonafide hustler making my name. ❞

 ❝No one on the corner has swagger like us. ❞

 ❝We pack and deliver like UPS trucks. ❞

 ❝I got a basket full of lemons and they all taste the same. ❞

 ❝You can spend your whole life working for something just to have it taken away.❞

 ❝I don’t know why I say the things that I say, but I say them anyway. ❞

 ❝Keep on building prisons, gonna fill them all. Keep on building bombs, gonna drop them all. ❞

 ❝Chaos and commotion wherever I go. ❞

 ❝Tonight, I’m gonna let the Devil in. ❞

 ❝It’s my party, and I’ll fuck who I want. ❞

 ❝Who are you to change this world, silly boy? ❞

 ❝I’m a gangster, but I’m such a fuckin’ lady. ❞

 ❝First to watch my story but don’t like me? Weird. ❞

 ❝Never mind what I had to do to get these diamonds. ❞

 ❝These bitches wanna judge me but I don’t care. ❞

 ❝Only want a love where the card never declines. ❞

 ❝My baby is my employer. ❞

 ❝No, I don’t want your number. No, I don’t want to give you mine. ❞

 ❝Sun goes down, another dreamless night… you’re right by my side. ❞

 ❝You say go fast, I say hold on tight. ❞

 ❝Got you so obsessed, it’s sickening. ❞

 ❝You know I might break your heart, just let it slide. ❞

 ❝Could hurt you really bad, take everything. ❞

 ❝I let you try it, now you want to buy it, but you know my price is going up. ❞

 ❝So what if I’m toxic? ❞

 ❝Yes, sir, I’m’a do it again. I’m fucking him, her, probably they and them. ❞

 ❝I know you’re wondering what I’m gonna say, I do, too. ❞

 ❝My mind always wonders what will I say? I wish I knew… ❞

 ❝I love myself, I wanna see it. ❞

 ❝I’ma do just what I like on the regular. ❞

 ❝It’s really not my fault if you’re scared of a sweet little unforgettable thing. ❞

 ❝No, I’m not sorry. I’m just loving my body. ❞

 ❝You know I don’t give a motherfuck about your last name. ❞

 ❝Has someone like me ever existed? ❞

 ❝I can’t help it, I just woke up like this. ❞

 ❝Nightmare dream girl, I am what your type is. ❞

 ❝When I go into that ground, I won’t go quietly. ❞

 ❝I got troubles, they won’t let me be. ❞

 ❝I’ve been on the run since I was a boy. ❞

 ❝I’ve got troubles of more than one kind. ❞

 ❝If I had a dick, you’d probably lick it like a lollipop. ❞

 ❝Bitches say they fuckin’ with me, chances are they’re probably not. ❞

 ❝If he had a twin, I would let them run a train. ❞

 ❝I swear I feel like a toilet bowl shitting on everything I’ve said or I’ve done. ❞

 ❝Thanks for the talk, are we done? ❞

 ❝I’m over wasting time in life trying to be something I’m not. ❞

 ❝Do you ever feel like you’re underwater, drowning inside? ❞

 ❝I’m not gonna hang my head and be another accident. ❞

 ❝I’ve given up our romance. I have nothing left for love. ❞

 ❝I’m not sick, but I’m not well. ❞

 ❝Fingertips like memories, I can’t forget the curves of your body. ❞

 ❝Been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding. ❞

 ❝I don’t even have a TV. ❞

 ❝Put me in the hospital for nerves and then they had to commit me. ❞

 ❝It’s a sin to live so well. ❞

 ❝I’d like to turn off time and kill my mind. ❞

 ❝Hear the voices in my head, I swear to god it sounds like they’re snoring. ❞

 ❝If you’re bored then you’re boring. ❞

 ❝The agony and irony, they’re killing me. ❞

 ❝She says she loves me at dusk, but at dawn I pack up my things and I’m gone. ❞

 ❝Never been a perfect soul but I will not apologize. ❞

 ❝I did a lot wrong that I can’t make right. ❞

 ❝That face, baby, it ain’t fair. ❞

 ❝I eat boys like you for breakfast. ❞

 ❝I never said it’s right, but I’m gonna keep doing it. ❞

 ❝I’m sick and, honestly? I’m getting high off it. ❞

 ❝We don’t deal with outsiders very well. ❞

 ❝They can smell the intention on you. ❞

 ❝They call me an American horror show. ❞

 ❝What I gotta do to find a sub or a dom to choke me? ❞

 ❝I could be your little monster. ❞

 ❝I like when you piss me off, it usually means the sex is rough. ❞

 ❝I am the big idea. ❞

 ❝If you got a problem, better speak up. ❞

 ❝My generation’s had enough, and you should be afraid. ❞

 ❝I like my coffee black just like my metal. ❞

 ❝I can’t wait for you to shut me up. ❞

 ❝I’m friends with all my demons. ❞

 ❝I’m the definition of the worst kind of mean. ❞

 ❝I will not die in the night but in the light of the sun with the ashes of this world in my lungs. ❞

[feilien]

@draconisa said: “[ FEVER ]: having noticed the sender beginning to spike a fever, receiver presses a cool cloth to their forehead to try and bring it down. 👀” {♚ x Meme I am too lazy to find right now || Accepting x}

 Matt wasn’t entirely sure when things had changed. The past couple of years had been spent mostly alone since arriving in NYC; partly because he was just too busy with studies to be out and about, and partly because his persisting paranoia made him hesitant to spend any extended periods of time outside of his apartment unless absolutely necessary.

 That paranoia, however, didn’t seem to extend to Daenerys and Rhaego, and he somehow found himself in their apartment more frequently as time passed. Today was no exception. After taking Bao for a walk, they’d gotten settled in Dany’s living room and had put on a movie Rhaego had probably seen about fifty times at this point, but still demanded they watched again anyway. Matt didn’t mind—his eyes had the habit of drifting over to Daenerys anyway.

 Which was how he picked up on her flushed cheeks, dewy-looking face, and consistent nodding off. After reaching out to feel her forehead, it became quite clear why: she was burning up. Still, she insisted she was fine and it took what felt like forever and every bit of persuasion Matt had to get her to agree to at least lay down on the couch. So stubborn.

 Once she was settled in and Rhaego preoccupied with both the movie and Bao, Matt got a couple of things together and sat back down on the couch with a cloth in his hand. Running his fingers through her hair to move it out of her face, he then dabbed the cloth gently along her forehead, before laying it across. “I have no plans for the rest of the night. I can watch Rhaego, so you can get some rest.” Reaching for the cup he’d set down on the table, he held it out for her to take, if she wanted to. “Here. Some Chinese herbal tea. No idea what’s in it, if I’m honest, but my mother used to give it to me whenever I was sick. Works wonders somehow. Probably has some Unicorn hair in it or something.”

[onlyhope93]

He’s not as bad as he seemed to be - Chapter 1 - oops

There is nothing like Discussion Conference, in Cloud Recesses nonetheless, thought Wei Wuxian, trying to escape all the judgemental and incriminating looks the ‘orthodox’ cultivators were sending him. What wouldn’t I give for a jar of Emperor's Smile... What did he think, dragging me all the way here? He knows Lans hate everything unconventional in cultivation, but no... ‘You're my head disciple, if I have to suffer through this instead of focusing on rebuilding Lotus Pier, I damn well will not suffer through it alone. You’re coming with me, end of discussion. A-Jie will handle everything here. Besides, a little break from your constant drinking in the winehouses will do you and the owners good. At least they’ll be able to replenish their wine reserves’.  

He and Jiang Cheng, along with several of their most trusted disciples were in Gusu Lan Cloud Recesses for three days already and all that was discussed so far was how generous the Lanling Jin was in aiding various smaller and bigger sects in rebuilding and establishing connections with new sects, which sprouted after the Sunshot Campaign like mushrooms after rain. Three days, and nothing but bootlicking. Wei Wuxian felt like he’s going to be sick if he sat there even a minute longer, so after lunch he snuck out, only sending Jiang Cheng a wink. It’s a good thing his brother knows him so well that he only rolled his eyes and let him go. Trying to keep Wei Wuxian in that discussion room any longer would surely end in some political disaster.

He was walking leisurely through stone gardens and beautifully styled pathways, the serene atmosphere giving him a feeling of nostalgia. Memories of his study days flying before his eyes. How much easier it was back then... No worries, no wars, no pain, no death... We worried only for how to kill boredom, the only wars we experienced was on night hunts fighting resentful creatures, the only pain came from scrapes and cuts on training sessions or when playing around, and nobody even thought about the possibility of death, we were immortal cultivators after all. Now? All that’s left from those times are memories clouded by the shock of reality and adulthood that came too fast. Gods I’m pathetic, I’m not even 20 yet! And I feel like I’m fucking 40... ugh, get a grip Wei Wuxian! He shook off the morbid thoughts and decided to go find that waterfall he liked to spend his free time at during the lectures here. He was just about to turn the corner when he suddenly bumped into somebody. A tall somebody in white and light blue elegant clothing, stern features and a goatee. He was soooo screwed now...

“Lan xiansheng, good afternoon. Wonderful day we have today, don’t we?”, yep he was screwed. “Forgive me for my inattention. I’ll be out of your way now”, said Wei Wuxian, stepping out of the way and waiting for Lan Qiren to pass him by with haughty expression and sneer on his lips. How wrong he was.

“Wei Wuxian. Since the fate decided to cross our paths again, come” said Lan Qiren turning around and walking away, clearly expected to be followed.  

“Forgive me xiansheng, but my student years are long passed and I don’t need any more lectures.” answered Wei Wuxian, not moving.

Lan Qiren stopped, saying “I said come. You are in Cloud Recesses. ‘Do not disrespect the elder’, ‘Honour your teacher and respect his teachings’. I thought you once, therefore I am forever your teacher. Now come.”  

And with this he strode away. What was Wei Wuxian to do, but obey? I'll just have to endure it. I do it every day from Jiang Cheng anyway.

Lan Qiren led him to his office. It was a medium sized room, elegant and airy, with small stove for brewing tea close to small table for discussions and admitting guests, spacious desk for writing, and shelf that took a vast majority of the back wall for all documents and space for research materials.

Wei Wuxian stayed by the door, unsure of what to expect. Lan Qiren sat at the table and waited. He rose one of his eyebrows looking at his guest. Wei Wuxian sighed and slowly came to sit down. And since Lan Qiren clearly stated he is here as his student and due to the generational difference, it was Wei Wuxian’s responsibility to prepare and serve tea. Once the formalities were seen to and first sips of tea taken, it was time for the lecture.  

“I assume you know, or at least are able to guess, what I want to talk with you about. I was informed you strayed from the orthodox cultivation and are dealing with demonic arts. You are also well aware what my opinion of it is since the lectures you were part of. However, I was informed that you disappeared for three months after the attack on Lotus Pier and were presumably thrown into the Burial Mounds by Wen Chao. Do not look at me liked that, I was Acting Sect Leader for years before my nephew took over the sect after his father’s passing, I have my way of gaining information outside of gossip. You have not used your sword since then, nor are you carrying it with you as our tradition and propriety dictates. Answer me this. What is wrong with your golden core?”

Wei Wuxian was speechless. How did he know? There is no way he learned it from any spy, nobody except from me, Wen Qing and Wen Ning knows. There’s no way... Hackles raised, Wei Wuxian tried to play the fool.

“I don’t know what you are talking about xiansheng, my golden core is just fine. And what Burial Mounds? Your informant must be quite the storyteller.”

“Do not try lying to me and do not take me for a fool. My informant has seen a group of Wens, including Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu heading towards the Burial Mounds on their swords with someone in their grasp. The person was in bad shape, in nondescript clothing, but visibly young. Unfortunately, by the time the information got to me, you already managed to join the Sunshot Campaign. And also unfortunately, I managed to associate the youth they carried with you once the Campaign was well underway and I was informed about your new style of cultivation. Resentful energy damages the body and the spirit. It is vile, dangerous and unpredictable. I will ask again, what is wrong with your golden core?”

This cannot be happening. Out of all the people in the world it had to be Lan Qiren, hasn’t it? He has to think of something fast. There are too many people here, too many sects, too many witnesses. He has to do something otherwise the Jiang sect is going to be in danger. They just started rebuilding, they cannot afford to be attacked now, when there is so little chance they will survive it. Not when everyone will find out he is coreless and decide that his Yin Tiger Amulet is out for grabs. It is too dangerous to be in anyone else's hands.

And now here he is. All his plans to wait until the Yunmeng Jiang is fully re-established to destroy that damn thing and end this miserable existence of his with it. To wait until everyone is safe again after war. It’s all for nought.

In his panic, Wei Wuxian stood up feigning anger, looking around discreetly as if someone would be able to hear. He started to move towards the door, saying “I told you already xiansheng, my golden core is just fine. As is my body and my spirit. I know myself best.”

In a blink, Lan Qiren was in front of him, grasping his wrist. Wei Wuxian tried to escape, but what he didn’t take into account is the legendary Lan arm strength. Despite being a scholar and a teacher, Lan Qiren was still a Lan. Diligent in his training and honing his skills for years, he could easily overpower Wei Wuxian.

And then he stated probing his meridians, which were found empty but undamaged, with void in place of the core.

“Impossible,” said Lan Qiren, looking at Wei Wuxian in shock. “Who did this to you?”

His grip on the wrist slackened, and Wei Wuxian was finally able to wrest his hand back to himself. He was in sooooo much trouble now.  

“Nobody did anything to me, I am completely fine. I didn’t expect the great Grandmaster of the Lan Sect, Lan Qiren, to be so discourteous as to grab people without their permission”, seethed Wei Wuxian through gritted teeth and with anger in his eyes, their colour flickering between grey and red.  

“Forgive me my discourtesy, but it was the only way to check on your health without you avoiding examination”, said Lan Qiren, trying to placate the fuming Wei Wuxian. “The technique used to extract your golden core is very old and only 2 or 3 copies of it exist, one of which is in possession of the Lan Sect. I know it was not the Core Melting Hand, his core crushing technique destroyed also the meridians. I felt the meridians of a person attacked by Wen Zhuliu and they were in state of total devastation. Your meridians are whole and healthy, although energy in them is stagnant and tinted by resentment, and they are singed only where they meant to be connected to the core. Someone clearly performed a surgery on you. The only question is what experiments were they performing on you and what they used your core for?”

That's it, isn’t it? He's done for. After all his attempts to keep it a secret, after hurting so many people with his lies, it had to be his old teacher. He always thought the Old Man Lan hated his guts. He was ready for another lecture full of scoldings and hateful comments, but he had no idea how it turned out as it did.

And then the door opened.  

[jodilin65]

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 2001 Paula left a message saying she changed her number cuz some girl’s been driving her nuts. Too bad she wasn’t out here. She could get her hung for it. It’s a Puerto Rican, though, so maybe not. Anyway, I left her a message.

In good news, we got water last night at 6:30! Yeah, with one last-minute tease from God, too. I guess we went hog wild and pumped too much water at once because the water stopped towards the end of my shower. He had to go and vent the well cuz of something related to the pressure and the warm air escaping from the well. We’ll pick up a vent with a screen on it sometime soon. We used a lot of water at once, though I don’t expect we’ll do this regularly. We used water for 2 showers, 2 loads of dishes, and 3 loads of laundry.

It was nice to be able to clean the mice’s air filter today, too.

We got water just in time too, cuz the water was evaporating from the traps and it was starting to stink in here. I had to pour some of the last of the water down the drains.

Walter arrived with his nephew just after noon, saying he got stalled by a bunch of sheep, and I was like, by a bunch of sheep? Where? There’s no sheep around here that’d get in the way of cars. It made me wonder if the gods didn’t materialize them out of thin air as a last-minute insult. Once Walter got here, he said he was afraid to leave until it was done. I wouldn’t have wanted him to leave, that’s for sure.

He’s going to return today or tomorrow to pick up his rig. The rig with the wench has been sitting here ever since.

What pissed me the fuck off were the nosy workers from in back that invited themselves over to stick their noses where they didn’t belong. They just breezed right by the no-trespassing sign as if it didn’t exist. I’m sick of people driving onto our land to butt into our business. I can’t wait till we have fences. They could still get in, but not as easily.

We called Mary at work to let her know they made it out here, then again later on in the early evening. She was really happy for us. So was I!

In case I didn’t mention it yet, Tom fixed the bird clock that stopped chirping a couple of years ago. It’s nice to once again hear the birds chirp at the hour. We never could figure out why they stopped. Something about his taking the thing apart is what fixed it.

I’m getting ready to start ripping CDs into MP3s so that I don’t have to spend so much time doing that when I get the MP3 player. Ripping to MP3s takes longer than waves.

My birthday came early this year. Tom and I went to the grocery store in Casa Grande, and I got two new dolls! And one of them is a redhead! Finally, huh? It’s just like Teddy Bear’s, only a few shades darker. Darker than what I last saw her with, anyway. She was $20 and I named her Misha (that is a really cute and unique name) and she’s a 22” with gray eyes and a not-so-nice dress. It’s old-fashioned with gray wool, but I liked the face and hair color enough to feel her dress was worth it. I can maybe change it someday. It has pink rosebuds, velvet and lace trim, and a brown satin hem. I polished her nails brownish-gold. Her brown beaded necklace was glued on at the nape of the neck. I’ve never seen necklaces glued on before. Fortunately, her hat wasn’t glued on. It was sewn to her wig, so I could cut it off since I’m not big on hats. She doesn’t wear shoes. They’re white heels that are a part of her mold like Summer Dream’s.

I also painted Colette’s nails black and an old, cheap doll’s nails, alternating between pink and purple.

All the other 22” dolls wore wedding dresses. They were nice, though. One held a pink floral bouquet and another had gold accents on its dress so it wasn’t so boring being nothing but white, white, white. I wonder if this is what Paula meant when she was talking about dolls wearing white.

The second doll I got is another one of those 10” sitting musical dolls. This one’s dress is gorgeous. It’s an orchid dress with pink and blue trim with a touch of silver glitter. She has a melon-colored rosebud on her chest and on her white shoes. She has gold, curly hair and blue eyes. I named her Tiffany.

Tom got his computer working again, so that’s good.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 2001 We didn’t get water yesterday, and as soon as I awoke at 7:30, I knew we weren’t getting it today, either.

No words can express the red-hot liquid hate I feel for God and how strongly I wish I could yank him down from the sky and beat the shit out of him. Even Mom said to Tom last night on the phone, “Maybe God does hate her.”

Well, that’s been rather obvious for a long time now, hasn’t it? I’ve given up on asking why. I don’t know why, and I don’t care why. I just wish he’d leave us the fuck alone. Not even God can ignore those he hates. He has to torture them year after year.

I’m too pissed off to write anymore at the moment. All I know is that it’s going to be days before we get water if we don’t get it today, and we’re looking at a lot of trips into Phoenix in the meantime. But I know Phoenix would love to have us, so there’s nothing to worry about there.

Later…

I’m not sure if we’re going to get water today or not. I won’t believe it till I see it, but here’s an update so I don’t get too backed up.

The day and time I predicted we’d get water yesterday would’ve been right had God not inflicted punishment upon Walter for trying to help us and done things to stall us from getting water. Instead, at 1:30 that afternoon, I suddenly knew we weren’t getting water that day. Then by 3:00, I knew he wasn’t even coming. As it would turn out, the axle on his trailer broke, and that would’ve happened around the time my vibes changed. Everything was bought, though, so it was just a matter of having the pipe delivered to his house this morning, but what should God have happen to the poor person delivering the pipe? They got stuck. Then, after they got unstuck, a tire blew on this other old trailer of Walter’s, so he had to take it in to be fixed.

He’ll supposedly be here in about an hour, but I don’t know. This all makes me wonder if he’ll get killed en route to our place. Anything to keep us from getting water sooner. I’m nearly as worried for the guy as I am for us.

Then last night, as if God hadn’t shit on us enough already, he went and broke poor Tom’s computer. Talk about adding insult to injury! Two-year-old pumps and 6-month-old computers just don’t break. They just don’t. Nobody’s shit breaks like ours. Nobody’s.

What’s left for him to go after in this house and what will be next? The dryer? The lights? The roof?

I’ve really nailed this thing vibe-wise with uncanny accuracy. My psychicness really develops with age. In my early 20s, all I could do was get these little feelings here and there, but no details. Now I’m getting more accurate and more detailed with the things I see/sense.

Anyway, there’s a scattering of dead bushes alongside the washes. I broke up an ugly dead one yesterday while I was waiting hopelessly.

Although soft, and not audible in the house, I could hear Dan’s place thumping with music again. Hey, not hearing music on a 10-acre ranch in the middle of a weekday is simply out of the question, so what can I say?

If God will let us, we’re going to put up hedges, with or without a fence, in back. George’s dumpy little city is such an eyesore, let alone an invasion of privacy. They’ve got this ugly red writing now on one of the water tanks.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 2001 It looks like my Wednesday water vibe’s going to be right on. Come 3:00 yesterday with Walter still not showing up, I knew he wasn’t going to and that he’d call around 4:00. He called at 3:50 saying that the bank wouldn’t cash the check being a third-party check, so we had to go all the way back to Phoenix, the city that just won’t let us go, to get a check written from a different account and bank. Right now, Tom’s meeting Walter at the B of A bank in Casa Grande to give Walter the money in either a cashier’s check or cash. However he wants it. Then by noon, Walter should be here with all the parts needed to get us water by the late afternoon.

Fortunately, Tom had personal days stored up, so between this week and next, it’ll be a combination of personal days and vacation days he’ll take off. Next week he’s going to take off Monday through Wednesday. We decided not to go to Game Works because of all the holiday commotion, but we will do miniature golf.

My vibes have been amazingly accurate throughout this process. I was right about the footage, about the pump being bad, about him not showing up yesterday, about when he’d call, so now let’s just hope I’m right about getting water today!

Actually, he did show up yesterday to return the other check to us. We weren’t about to give him more money without getting that check back first.

When I went outside where he was talking to Walter, I thought Walter was playing music from his truck, but then I stepped back and realized it was Dan’s people. It was soft enough to hear plenty well outdoors, but not in the house. If this house were the Phoenix one, we’d hear it in here loud and clear. I’m sure it was coming from a car and not the house through an open window. It’s been cold, and I’d like to think no one could be that desperate for attention.

No one was in back yesterday to listen to either, and I hope they take today off too, though they never did end up being noisy. I only heard them for a few minutes. Maybe that’s because George spent most of the day back there, too.

We’re wondering if the reason APS hasn’t powered up the place yet is due to their having trouble passing inspection, but the longer that house is empty, the longer I get to live in peace if they truly are going to be noisy.

Tom says that by the subdivisions they’re building in the center of town, we have to get rich someday off this land. It’s a guaranteed thing. If this is true, then our struggling now is compensation of money later on, and not an everlasting curse, just like my shitty luck with women was compensated with Tom and Teddy Bear. I hope with Teddy Bear, anyway, if only for a year or two. The closer we get to May, the more I’ll be able to sense whether or not I’m going to see her.

Anyway, we weren’t at Mary’s long. She gave us $20 and let us load up 20 gallons of water for toilet flushing. Then we hit Circle K where he got gas and soda and I got hot coffee to warm me. As is 99% of our things, the heater’s broken in the car.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 2001 I don’t think I can concentrate on working on my bio right now, so here’s the latest well scoop. The cost will be $5,653. Mary and Dave met Tom at Harrah’s casino and gave him the check. Because it’s so much money, we agreed we’d give them a thousand dollars in January, though we didn’t tell them that. After making the comment to Tom about how I wish I could get a job to give half the money to charity since God wants us to give our money away, he said that maybe if I got a home job, I could give to Mom instead. Well, I have mixed emotions about that. First of all, I’ll never have a job. That’s just not meant to be, convicted felon or not. Second of all, in my eyes, Mom owes us. By now, she’s paid back all the money she took us for when she so selfishly took advantage of Tom around the time Dad died, but she can never pay us enough money for the time she stole from us. We were a new couple and going through a time when I needed him most, but she kept him away from me. She’d sometimes send home my favorite coffee with him, admitting he was at her house more than ours, and that’s nice, but that just doesn’t cut it as far as compensation goes. I’m all for milking the woman dry, as much as I love her otherwise because enough could never be enough or too much money from her, as far as I’m concerned.

Anyway, this shit with Dan just gets better and better. As it turns out, the cock gave us a used pump and then lied to us, telling us it was a 3-horsepower pump, when it’s really a 2 that can only pump 2 gallons a minute. This new one we’re getting is a 5-horsepower and it can pump 15 gallons a minute, so no more will we have to worry about not running dishes while doing laundry.

All my vibes were right, though. I said that unfortunately, the only thing Dan did tell the truth about was the footage, and yes, it is 785’. I also vibed the pump was fucked up, and true to what Walter said after testing it, it is fucked up. There was a hole in it cuz the fucker didn’t wrap that area like he was supposed to, and the pump was too small for that depth, so it overshot itself.

As far as what to do with Dan - my first impulse is to run over to his business and beat the shit out of him, but his wounds would eventually heal. Where we want to get him is where it’ll really hurt and for a long time too, which is his business. Tom wants to wait another year what with the way things are being so closely monitored cuz of all this terrorist shit. As soon as those fucking Arabs will leave us alone long enough, Tom will take care of him, along with Hall, the Public defender, Pig Bias, and the black bitch, if he can find them. I’d bet she’s got her number listed and is in the same place she moved to when she moved out of the house. Yeah, because she was never really scared of me. She’d welcome any calls or mail from me, believe me. Anything to use as ammunition against me so she could use and abuse the law against me again.

I checked online for Steven, but sure enough, he’s moved on to new areas and to gather new victims.

Tom knows enough about accounts to do things to Dan’s business, like transfer money out of his account, make checks bounce, etc. The less I know, the better it’ll be, he told me, and he can’t do the same thing for everybody. We can’t have an obvious common denominator there - a husband who works at a bank with a wife who has every reason to hate these people. It’s too bad I can’t be the one to decide what each one shall get. How fun that would be! After all, they got to decide my fate for a while. It’d only be fair if I could decide theirs, but life ain’t fair. It’s going to be something that’ll devastate them for years, though. It can’t be something they could recover from in just a few weeks or even a few months. We’re going on two years of picking up after Dan’s shit, and six for the freeloaders, so they definitely need to suffer more than just a handful of weeks/months.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 2001 It’s not even 9:00 and the gold truck’s already in back with its music thumping away. Just how many hours am I going to have to listen to this shit? How many more days? Well, I’m not going to listen to it. If I have to listen to music, it’ll be my own. In fact, I’ve got a CD playing now. Tom said it’s doing skirting.

It’s no joke how they say that when it rains, it pours. Last night, God just had to let a hose blow on the car, and poor Tom had to fix that, too. Like he didn’t have enough shit to deal with already!

Today is Dan and Steven’s unlucky day. Tom had taken them off his shit list to concentrate on those responsible for getting me thrown in jail, but guess what? They earned their way right back on it. It looks like, from what I vibed and what the guy he talked to this morning said, that this latest problem is also Dan-inflicted because the stupid shitfuck used too much plastic piping where he should’ve used metal. It could also be that the pump overworked itself since the fucking cock installed a pump for a 500’ well in a nearly 800’ well. Either way, ma will pay the costs, but that’s still one more thing we have to deal with. Meanwhile, laundry’s going to get backed up, dishes are going to get backed up, and trash is going to get backed up since we’d never want to burn without a working hose right there to wet any sparks.

I’m just sick of us having to be the ones to pick up after other people’s messes!!! God’s favorite pastime for us - suffering for years at the expense of others’ fuck-ups or vengefulness.

Anyway, some guy’s going to be here any minute, and I wonder - how incompetent is this one? How much money will we lose? How many years will we have to spend recovering from this cock?

Damn the Gods for making us pay for others’ shit! What? Do we not fuck up enough ourselves to be allowed to just pay for our own fuck-ups? Meanwhile, I’ll bet you don’t have anyone fucking over your precious freeloaders now, do you, God? No, they’re invincible, aren’t they? Nobody can rip them off or inflict untold amounts of stress, depression and anger on them, can they? Well, mark my words, God. Not even you can protect your beloved freeloaders from us in the end!

I wasn’t going to diet till after New Year’s, but I have to start now, or else I’ll be well into the 130s by the time New Year’s rolls around. I’m not like Tom or Mary who can eat all they want and stay the same, though they’re more like 30-50 pounds overweight. I’m 123 pounds now and would be a lot more than that come New Year’s, so I’ll have to start watching what I eat now, or else I won’t be able to fit into my clothes. We can’t afford new clothes now.

It makes me wonder, though - how much would I gain if I kept eating whatever whenever? I can only begin to guess! I’d say I’d probably get up to the 140s - 150s, but I’ll find out someday. I’m not going to try to control my weight for the rest of my life.

If we reactivate the well, and there are some things that could cause us to have to abandon it altogether, I hope we can get storage tanks in here soon enough. That way, when we suffer yet again on account of Dan’s greed and stupidity, we can have water till it’s fixed. Meanwhile, we got about 20 gallons of water at Mary’s yesterday, after we took showers there, for toilet-flushing.

Pepper was all over me, as usual, being playful and lovey-dovey. I’m thinking more and more that we will get Pepper eventually. Mary and Dave don’t hate him, but they don’t want such an attention-needy dog around. With me being home all the time, I wouldn’t mind him following me around. Mary mentioned how he’d love running up and down the house here. I could just tell by the way they were talking that they’d go for it once we got fences. The only problem is we can’t get fences if we’re constantly having to play well and car.

Ma gave me some puzzles, and Mary and Dave got me some more memory for my computer which was really nice of them when they went out to get some for their own computer. It doesn’t make things within my word processor run faster, but it helps with other things. Especially when I have a lot of stuff open.

We also got pizza and Mary sent us home with the leftovers.

It looks like George is back there now. I hope to hell he hasn’t heard about this black/Mexican shit I’ve been through, though I don’t think he ever knew our last names. It’s just that he’s in favor of freeloaders, and if he knew about this shit, there’s no saying how that’d influence his picking out tenants for that house. Although, it doesn’t really matter. If God wants me harassed all over again by the same old shit, I will be. In fact, I’m sure he’s going to make sure the noisiest people move in there, no matter what George does or doesn’t know. With this rental being the closest one to us, why would he let us have quiet white neighbors?

Later…

I totally, totally regret moving here! God, I never thought I’d be so sorry! I knew God was going to punish me for moving from the city and lifestyle he wanted me to have, but I had no idea it’d be this extreme. He wanted me to live with lots of people and noise for a reason. The well’s going to cost nearly $6,000 to fix! This guy, Walter, who I got good vibes from instantly, said he’s heard of Dan and his scams. He says we’re not the only ones that got fucked over by him, which I figured. It’s a common practice for drillers to come in, fuck people over in a certain area, then move on and do the same old shit elsewhere. I’m sure Steven, who was connected to Dan, is now long gone. Remember, he worked out of his house.

I was always nervous when it came to God’s punishing us for moving, but now I’m scared. Literally scared. This is beyond punishment. This is a curse. The question is, how much more cursed will we be the longer we stay here? How much more money will we lose? We should’ve just stayed in the city, kept a just-grin-and-bear-it attitude regarding the freeloaders, and then I wouldn’t have had to go to jail for 6 months, spend $40 a month for the freeloaders, thousands in hotels for contractors, and then thousands more a couple of years later. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about what other curses lie ahead for us after fixing the contractor’s fuck-ups, and ridding our lives of the freeloaders if we ever can.

Unless our struggling is because we’re going to be compensated later on in life with lots of money, which I doubt, something really wants us to struggle. It just doesn’t want us to get ahead. Every time we start to crawl out of a new hole someone’s dug for us, we get kicked down another one. Why bother trying to get ahead if we’re just going to be thrown back?

How do we get rid of the curse? How do we hang onto our money? How do we stop others from victimizing us and getting away with it? This isn’t a few hundred bucks and a few hours of freedom that was lost. Between the freeloaders and the contractors, you’re talking many, many thousands of dollars and half a year of freedom. What? Would it make God happy if I chained myself up in the closet every so often? Should we give half our money to charity? He works hard for our money and we should be able to keep it and spend it in normal, legit ways. Not be forced to give it to our perpetrators or greedy incompetent assholes. When is the payback for leaving the city and getting such a big, beautiful house ever going to be enough? When one of us is dead? It’s like - fuck living on a boat! Like God would let us? Besides, if we’ve gone through all this shit just to change houses, I’d hate to think of all we’d suffer on account of dumping civilization and getting off of land altogether. He would kill us for that! It’s like God put us here to serve others at our own expense. It makes me furious with God to know that these well drillers can get away with fucking over numerous innocent people out of thousands, while I go to jail for speaking my mind to people that provoked me. People that gave me a reason to react towards them. And nobody can try to convince me that things wouldn’t have been different had I been black, Mexican or male.

Later…

We’re waiting for Walter to return to take the pump out. Tom said he’s hoping they lied about how deep the well is because if it is a case of bad pipes, then we won’t need as much and it won’t cost as much.

We couldn’t get that lucky.

He also hopes the pump’s okay too, though we know the motor’s running.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 2001 Well, we made it to late November before we finally had to turn the heat on. Tom said the cold woke him up at 4:00 in the morning. It was down to 67°. We didn’t even have it on for an hour, though. Once it hit 70°, I turned it off.

The bad news is that the well’s fucked up. We’re not sure if it’s drying up and needs to be blown out, or if the screen’s clogged. There you go, God. Just have us spend our money on the well so we don’t have any to spend on his vacation. And we know no reliable company to call to ask questions to, thanks to society’s incompetent little fuck-ups.

I’m going to try to hold a day schedule till mid-December. The first week in December is his vacation, but then I have to hold out a little longer for the freeloaders.

Tom said there was a message on the phone this morning as he was about to log in to the web. I immediately thought it was Paula. It didn’t do me any good telling Andy that weekends were a bad time to get me, so why should it do me any good telling Paula that? Well, it turns out that it was his work. He told them, “You want to bug me after hours, give me a beeper and pay me extra,” but like most people, they don’t listen.

Al Loomer really did say it right back in ‘88. He said I was someone that just did not like people. When I told the therapist I had at the time, Trisha Morrissey, that he said that, she said she didn’t think I disliked people, she thought I just feared them. No, Al had it right - I detest people. And if there’s any fear it’s only because they’re so fucked up that you just never know how badly their fuck-ups are going to fuck you up.

Later…

To say today’s been a shitty day is quite an understatement. First the well, and now one of the rentals is getting on my nerves with its fucking music. It could be coming from the old gold pickup that’s at the new place right now, but Tom says it’s unlikely that someone would invest in a stereo that expensive in such a dump of a truck. It started as soon as we went out there and they saw us. Tom said there was music coming from the other direction this morning. If the music I’m hearing now is coming from this truck, I better hope to hell that this person doesn’t end up being the one to move in there. This doesn’t mean, though, that whoever does won’t end up being just as noisy.

There was even a dog getting on my nerves too, but only when I was outside. This was coming from the front.

Anyway, it appears I’m not going to be able to wash my hair till Monday and that this well shit is going to cost us hundreds of dollars that we don’t have. That’s right - my teeth are all paid off, so now it’s time to replace that problem with a new expense. Anything to keep us from getting ahead. What’s the point in even trying to get ahead? All we do is get set right back. It’s either the control board up top or the pump, but either way, this shouldn’t be happening after just two fucking years! Our washer won’t work on the small-load cycle, our jet dry dispenser in the dishwasher breaks, and now this shit! Nobody’s shit breaks like ours. Makes me wonder if I should even bother getting an MP3 player. In fact, no I won’t. I’ll just finish burning my waves onto CDs once we get more CDs. I’ll no doubt have to put any money I get for my birthday and Christmas towards this well that’ll cost us hundreds, if not thousands, cuz we can’t count on his selfish mother helping us for sure. No, she’s too wrapped up in her own self, like hanging onto all her money in case she has to go into a nursing home someday. Even if this does happen, that could be ten years from now. She should be living in the present and putting her kids first, not herself. But she’s the kind that’s selfish enough to see Tom get sent to jail just so she could see him, rather than have him move far away and not be able to visit.

Well, maybe, just maybe, next year I can have a birthday and a Christmas after missing out on that twice in a row. Maybe.

This living on a boat someday is just a dream, though. God would never let us get that far away from civilization, anyway. I think this area will build up, but not in a way that’ll get us rich enough to live on a boat. Just in a way that’ll have more people and more noise.

Later…

It is the gold truck, and of course it’s a freeloader, too. I just saw the cock go into the truck and turn the music back on (it was off for a while). Also, a piece of shit doesn’t mean it can’t have a stereo like that in it. That ranchero whose stereo harassed the shit out of us was an old beat-up piece of shit. It’s a matter of priorities. Some people are demented enough to spend hundreds of dollars on a stereo just for others to hear than on a vehicle itself. A lot of these stereos aren’t bought and paid for in honest ways, either. They’re either stolen or bought with hot goods. Besides, Tom always tries to talk me out of believing certain sounds are coming from certain cars/houses. I guess he doesn’t want me to complain to them, as if I would even think of doing that after all that’s happened.

Anyway, it, and someone with a silver or white truck, is working on the electrical wiring by the house. Hopefully, with the fading sunlight, they’ll be gone soon. Of course, they’ll be back tomorrow, and God only knows how many more times after that.

No one can tell me we haven’t been punished by something up there for leaving the city. With the shit we went through to get into the house and then me being dragged back to live in the city for 6 months, it’s so obvious. And I knew it, too. I knew there’d be hell to pay for leaving the city. I just didn’t know it’d be so extreme. So, since we have to listen to music and dogs out here, we might as well have just stayed in the city and just gotten a newer, bigger house there. Then we wouldn’t have had to deal with wells or hauling water.

Oh, good. I just jumped up and checked and both vehicles are gone. Like this freeloader couldn’t have waited till it was pulling out to start the music? It just had to start it a few minutes before it left so we, and others, could hear it and notice them, huh?

Tom’s going to call this company to come out and check the well on Monday. He’s going to take that day off. He’s owed a personal day anyway. He keeps saying everything will be alright, but you know I can never believe anything’s going to be alright till I see it. What if everyone’s booked up and it’s weeks before we can get someone out here? What if they fuck us over and rip us off like the other company? Will we have water before we run out of dishes? He can’t even burn tomorrow. We only have enough water to flush the toilets about 20 more times, then that’s it. Of course, there’s laundry to be done too, and we could be in big trouble if we end up having to go too many days without water.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 2001 I finally got through to Paula. She’s the same old, same old. She’s fighting with her upstairs neighbor now who she says is noisy as hell. She dreads being there on weekends. Yes, I remember dreading the weekends all too well! Meanwhile, she can’t get out of there till May cuz she has a lease. At least she’s in an apartment. It’s a lot easier to move from an apartment than a house.

She says some other girl’s been calling her, threatening to kill her and fuck up her car. I don’t know what this is all about. As usual, she made no sense. First she’d say it was cuz of one reason, then another. You know how she is - jumping from subject to subject, interrupting, contradicting, making no sense, not remembering anything. She didn’t even remember Teddy Bear. She asked if she were Puerto Rican and if I’d written to her, yet if she’d read my mail she’d have known she was a white redhead and that we agreed I’d wait a year before contacting her. I told her I may have sunk my chances, though, by stupidly trusting Mary.

She claims she’s going to send me a doll, though I doubt it. She asked if I could make her new tapes of rap songs and basically surprise her with whatever, so I did. I made her two tapes, using my best judgment as to the songs I chose.

I asked her, and she said she was in jail for 3 months, in a dorm, in Niantic, CT. She said most of the COs, as they’d call them, were jerks. Her charges were assault and battery on this girl and a pig. Naturally, my first instinct was to be totally sick over the fact that someone can beat up two people, one being an oh-so-precious pig, and get just 3 months, while I get 6 for words on paper. But then she told me she also got 2000 hours of community service and I was like - oh my God! In a sense, that’s way worse than what I got. If you’re gonna sit in jail for 3 months, you might as well make it 6 and come home to just 100 hours. She’s damn lucky she didn’t do that out here. If she’d done the same thing here, she’d be looking at years in prison and many, many years of probation. I’ll bet she’d do 3 to 5 in prison, then 5 to 10 years probation with more like 5000 hours of community service. I forgot to ask just how much probation time she had and what her community service work entailed. I know she did it out of the house.

Here’s a classic example of how much stricter Arizona is than Massachusetts. I sent threatening letters and a threatening tape to people in Massachusetts (Larry and Ronnie), yet I never heard a damn thing about it. They probably ignored the stuff and threw it out once they realized what it was since that’s the way people there tend to react, and if any of them did go to the police about it, they were no doubt told not to worry about it. It’s just a voice on a tape and words on paper. I hadn’t done anything.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 2001 Went to Circle K this morning for some goodies before I do that diet again. They finally changed their coffee flavors. They had vanilla and mocha for a long time, and now they have Butterfinger and cinnamon. We got delayed by an Am-track train forfuckingever on the way there. It’s hard to believe Maricopa has AM-track. They just built a train station, so I’d say Maricopa’s going to build up as I predicted. We didn’t see any new houses along the way, but it looks like they’re getting ready to pave more of the road about 6 miles from here.

When we got back, we picked some radishes. Tom was brave enough to try one, but as I figured, he hated it. They’re pretty hot, but I like them. After too many, though, my mouth is on fire and I have to eat something to take the bitter taste away.

Nothing going on in back yet, but I have seen a couple of vehicles there today and yesterday.

I decided to fly the rest of my flags one by one till they all wear out. I took down a tattered Tweety bird flag and replaced it with cute Dalmatians.

We also made wire shelves for the rats with the wire that we used to make the pig’s cage. We bought the stuff for the mice, yet it ended up with pigs and rats!

Last night I set up 4 ladies with males for breeding, but I don’t know if I had them together long enough or if they’ll allow themselves to breed. They didn’t seem the least bit interested. They fought the guys like hell.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 2001 I got some potentially good news in the mail yesterday that fits with my vibes. My letter to Ida was returned, saying she’s no longer in custody and was released on the 9th. That’s exactly when my bad vibe suddenly went away, which means I was right in assuming that together, she and Mary were bad news had my bear worked during this time. It may be too late and they might’ve trashed me to the bear already, but that’s not what my vibes say. Now that Ida’s gone, if it hasn’t already been done, Mary may feel awkward about trashing me alone. It’s not as fun when you have another person with the same venom towards you trash you along with them. So, unless it was done during the time I had the horrible vibes, which was for about 3 days, I still might see my bear next May. In fact, it appears I may get my cake and eat it too. Meaning, I’ll never again hear from Mary, which would be just fine with me, yet I still get to keep my bear.

Also, I had wondered why it took Ida so long to respond to me when I sent the note two weeks earlier and she’d been with Mary that long. Well, obviously it was so she could be sure to get the last word. At least she was all talk when she said I’d hear from her further. I figured as much, anyway. I mean, what’s she gonna do? Threaten to break my hand for writing the note?

Meanwhile, I’ll keep Mary’s letters and story file till I’m off probation, then I’ll destroy those.

How the fuck did Ida get out of there so fast? She was in on a violation, and violations are supposed to be 3 months. Maybe she bonded out, though I don’t know if violations are bondable.

I forgot to mention that two mornings ago, I saw smoke about 30 feet in front of the rental. I wonder what the hell they could’ve been burning.

I downloaded some e-books, though they’re books I’ve already read, and I’ll have to sit at the computer and read them.

Later…

It’s turned out to be a nice day and I’ve opened the windows. I don’t like smelling horses in here, though I’d rather smell horseshit at home, than farts in jail.

I tried to call Paula yesterday morning and today but she wasn’t in. With my luck, she’ll call over the weekend. I’d really prefer to talk to her without Tom being here. That way I can talk a bit more freely without getting him paranoid about something I might say.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2001 Yesterday, Tom was telling me that he was about 20 pages into my Estrella book and that he suggests I don’t share it with anyone other than him. He said I can’t stop you from doing what you want to do, but things like how you wrote about how Rule told you how to get into Ad-Seg may make people paranoid, etc. He said he doesn’t think I should give it to Teddy Bear or Paula. It’s too late with Paula, but obviously it was okay since nothing bad happened to me for it, but Teddy Bear? I always believed, judging by her personality, that she’d be okay with it and that she wouldn’t tell anyone about it. At least not the wrong people, anyway.

Tom feels journals should never be shared, but to me, anything written away from home is not a journal. It’s more of a story about your adventures away from home, be it being away in jail or in Vegas gambling.

After taking a day to digest this conversation, I said to myself, hey, you need to try to learn to be a bit more independent when it comes to decision-making, as hard and as foreign as that may be. You let him talk you out of writing Palma and a zillion other things, and it’s okay to do what the one you love feels you ought to do, but you need to follow your own head/heart at times, too. I know he means well, I know he isn’t forcing me to do anything, and I know he’s right a lot of the time when he gives me suggestions or advice, but sometimes, I need to do my own thing, even if its results aren’t always very good. Life’s about taking chances. There’s been a lot of times when I was glad I took his advice and there have also been times when I wished I’d taken my own. It’s like sometimes he’s even more paranoid and cautious than even I am. “Do what you want, but I think tearing out and destroying journal pages would be too paranoid,” he told me. And maybe it was, but it’s just as easy for me to say that I can see how could be a bad thing to send copies to Mary, even if there were no N-words or threats in it, but the bear? I don’t know about that one, though her copy would be severely edited.

I still don’t think I’m ever going to see the bear again, but the point is, I’m not going to say yes or no either way as to whether or not I share the story with her. Maybe I will and maybe I won’t. It’s going to be solely up to me with the only influence being herself. Meaning, something she might say/do to convince me either way.

My first thought was to keep it a secret if I did share it with her, but first of all, I never could keep a secret to save my life. My secrets were always discovered one way or another, and secondly, I shouldn’t have to. At nearly 36 years of age my actions, especially to Tom, shouldn’t have to be hidden, explained or made excuses for. I’m always going to do what he suggests I do 8 out of 10 times cuz I love him, know he means well, and trust his judgment, but sometimes I’m going to make my own decisions and do things my own way. Once again, though, I’m not saying either way how I’ll deal with Teddy Bear when it comes to this book. If I ever see her again, we’ll see.

Who knows? I may decide, come May, not to write to her. I wish I could make myself not want to write to her. After being burned time and time again by 9 out of 10 people I’ve had contact with, both on account of my stupidity and my not doing a damn thing to deserve it, you never know what shit she may drag into my life, despite how unlikely that seems. She’s just someone that gives off positive vibes from the get-go. There doesn’t seem to be one ounce of meanness or paranoia in her. I doubt she’d go running to a pig friend, if she’s got any, to type up a threatening letter to her to add to the story, if she got pissed at me. I think that unlike most people, if she was pissed or unhappy with me for any reason, she’d simply ignore me. And that would be the proper thing to do in most cases. She’s never seen the type to get upset easily, though it probably wouldn’t take as much as it’d take Tom. She’s a DO, after all, and you need a little bit of bite to you for that kind of job or else some of those inmates will chew you up and spit you out. Still, unless Tom’s eager to disagree with me for whatever reason, I think he’ll see what I mean if she ever does visit. I wouldn’t count on a visit, though. Especially if I don’t hear anything nice from Mary this week.

If I ever did share the story with the bear, I think that the absolute worst thing that could come of it would be that she wasn’t happy that I wrote about her, even if it was all good, and that she may no longer want to be friends with me.

Early this morning two vehicles showed up in back, but I can’t say how long they were there, what they did, or if anyone else showed up. I was asleep by noon.

Yesterday I scanned my journal covers. Why keep them when I can scan them? I thought. I’m only keeping a few. One specialty journal and two prism-like ones. That’s because those two don’t scan well. They only sparkle with movement.

I wonder - will Scot invite himself over this week?

Later…

I worked on and off throughout the night on my bio. Once I get back on days, I’ll stay that way for a while. I’m tired of rolling, and besides, there’ll be more going on in December (hopefully all good).

I’m up to 1982 in the bio. What am I gonna do when it’s done? I’ll be so damn bored! I already am bored a lot as it is, so what will I do when it’s done? Read and clean?

Better not complain too much. I wouldn’t want God to think I need another adventurous trip to jail to liven things up.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2001 Now the flat trailer and horse trailer are gone, too. Maybe the people connected to all these trailers were just workers living back there while they were doing the house since it’s so far out. Maybe they travel from site to site in the trailer.

I did something rather clever yesterday. I tore Velcro off of an old doll’s dress and replaced the belt tie on my robe by sewing on this Velcro. It stays closed better this way.

Time to go put the nature sounds station on and work on my bio. Not all of the rainy sounds sound good. Some of it sounds like static or like someone rustling papers.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 2001 Five and a half months from now I could’ve seen my Teddy Bear, but no. I had to be stupid and let someone go and ruin it for me. It’s gonna be so hard next May, knowing I could be seeing her if it weren’t for my stupidity and someone else’s cruelty.

You’d think Mary would’ve been a bit more empathetic. I mean, she of all people should know what it’s like to lose someone she cares about. Then again, maybe she didn’t care. Maybe she wasn’t at work. Maybe she was right there all along with him. And maybe I had her all wrong in that department. She fooled me in others, after all.

Anyway, it was yesterday that I noticed that the trailer was gone. There were a lot of workers over there, though. Remember, this is an old piece of shit so the setup will take more work. Now I’m not sure if those trailer freeloaders are going to live there or not. Maybe not and maybe that’s why my bad vibes subsided so quickly. But still, that place has “freeloaders” written all over it and there’s nothing to say that whoever does end up in the thing won’t be a problem. That’s okay, though. I can be a problem right back.

I still think that yes, having the same old thing every day does get boring, but I should’ve stuck out that last diet regimen I was on a little longer. It was working without leaving me starving my ass off. Sooner or later I’d have had to have started shitting. I couldn’t have stayed stuck forever. As soon as my body realized it wasn’t going to get 1500 or more calories a day, it would’ve adapted, and it’s not like I’d have had the same old stuff forever. Maybe I just didn’t give it enough time. The plan I had wasn’t all that terrible as far as variety goes. Having a cucumber and a can of peaches would be my fruits and veggies. I’d get my protein with a packet of corned beef, then I’d have the potatoes and pudding. All this would be slightly over 1000 calories a day, excluding gum. If I kept this up for a few months, with the exception of one day a week to indulge, I’d have to lose weight. My body couldn’t possibly hold its weight on that, even if I were stuck every other day.

I had major variety yesterday, including beans, yet I’m stuck again. Besides, due to my lack of willpower, having too much variety around tempts me to have a little of this, then a little of that. Next thing I know I’ve had too much.

I’m just not sure if I want to do this next week or wait till after the New Year, what with all the treats the holidays bring. Also, I strongly vibed, even before Mary stole my bear from me, that I wouldn’t be seeing the bear before Christmas.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 2001 I finally heard from Paula. I figured giving her the silent treatment would prompt a letter from her, but I have mixed emotions about writing back and calling her (she has a phone now). It’s easy to say it’s best not to bother spending money on stamps/calls to her. Especially with the way I’ve been burned time after time, but you know what? I’ve known Paula for 17 years and she hasn’t burned me yet. Plus, I want to question her more about her charges and experiences in jail just out of curiosity.

She asked for my number and enclosed a hideous picture of herself. She really got big! She’s 165 pounds. She was usually around 120 when we were neighbors. Her hair is between her shoulders and tits. Tom’s going to take a picture of me to send to her, as she requested.

She’s still dating this married black cop and this married Hispanic pig. She too, likes the uniform. Only difference is I lost my babe in uniform while she gets to keep hers. Hell, I didn’t even get to make it with my uniform in the first place!

She’s still in that apartment in Chicopee and says she yelled at her noisy neighbor. Yeah, that’s what you do in the east. Out here, you’re expected to sit back and take their shit, and God help you if you do complain!

She has a white Chevy Cavalier now and will move in April.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 2001 It’s only 73° in the house right now and 54° outside. It’ll definitely be in the 60s in here and the 40s out there come 6:00.

Tom visited with Mom, Mary and Dave. Mom gave me $20 to get a treat. I guess that was for the lemon drops I gave her. I think I’ll spend it at Walgreens over his next vacation. I could use more perfume and more sparkly lip gloss. I got raspberry last time, so I think I’ll go for watermelon or vanilla next time. I wouldn’t mind a new puzzle to two, either.

I really look forward to December and January, God forbid some freeloaders, or anyone else, fuck it up for me. I’m looking forward to going out and doing fun things, getting Christmas gifts (hey I’m just as spoiled when it comes to that as I was as a kid getting Hanukah gifts!) and fencing the property. Also, I look forward to getting an MP3-CD changer. I’ll re-rip my CDs as MP3s instead of waves, then I’ll make CDs of them in MP3 format. That’ll fill about 3 CDs (the one I looked at holds 5). Then, as I gather new songs, I’ll put them on rewritables in regular audio CD format till I fill those 2 CDs. Once full, I’ll burn them as MP3s. That way I won’t have to wait till I get around 250 songs, which is what a CD with songs in MP3 format will hold.

I’m also hoping to get a palm tree or something to fill the empty dining corner. Perhaps in January, there’ll be some good sales. I don’t have much hope of getting a doll or a new rat cage, though.

Later…

I was just browsing online when I came across this book. It’s about a former inmate that like me, kept a day-to-day account of her 6 months in jail. Only she was in the tents. She describes the horseshoe to a T (the intake area where I waited 16 hours to go to Estrella). Like me, she didn’t “fit in.” She wasn’t your typical criminal, in other words. She talks about how Arpaio’s crazy, out to boost his career, and how he wanted to cut a meal to “save the taxpayers money.” Meanwhile, this is supposed to be donated food. I’ll bet her story doesn’t end like mine did where a DO she likes definitely likes her back! Ha, ha. Anyway, it’s interesting, though it’s just the prologue and first chapter I could read. For $17 you can get all 21 chapters.

Later…

Tom installed a new online radio for me. It not only displays the artist and song titles, but it has a wider variety of music. I’ve never even heard of some of this stuff! It also makes its own toolbar, so I can always see the artist/title, even while I’m typing this. With the other one, I’d have to switch windows. It also allows me to see what’s playing on other radio stations before I even tune into them. There’s even a nature sound station. On one track I could hear the ocean, birds chirping, and wind chimes. Then there were storms, whales, rain, etc.

I forgot to mention that when Tom was at Ma’s, they ended up discussing Pepper. Tom told them I want him, and that we plan to put up fences and a doggie door. That way, if we don’t get their dog (which would only be because there’d be some other dog they wanted more), we can get some other dog.

Little Buddy gets more and more playful. He loves to come out and run around. Loves to chase me up and down the house and climb on me to see if he can get treats. He’s not just playful, he’s so loving and a real people rat!

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 2001 Yes, it got a little chilly in here last night. Down to 72°, and it’s gonna get chillier tonight. It only made it up to 77° in here today. I’m trying to wear warmer clothing before I turn on the heat (though I will turn it on if it drops below 70°) for the sake of saving money.

Tom should be home anytime now. It’ll be interesting to see if he brings any jail mail for me, though I doubt it. It’s been nearly a month now since I heard from Mary. I still say my first guess is that I won’t hear from her, the second’s that she’ll send me a “fuck you” letter, and lastly, she’ll tell me everything’s fine. Maybe she even got into it with Ida. It seems less likely, though, that she’d get into it with her as easily as I did since she’s more tolerant. Mary can sleep through anything, so she wouldn’t mind if Ida was up bopping around the room at 7 AM. I doubt they’d fight over how much of the vent was blocked, either.

Looking at it from Teddy Bear’s perspective, she’s certainly going to be pissed to find out I told someone in that jail that we liked each other. I myself personally, would not be, but most people would be. Knowing how overly cautious and professional the bear is, she’d definitely drop me like a hot potato if anything was said to her.

Worries, stresses, worries, stresses! And all for the wrong people! I mean, here I am, worrying my ass off about what these fucking low-life, scum-sucking inmates may say. Fuck that shit! I need to move on, with or without my bear.

As far as not hearing from Mary goes… ordinarily, I’d say no news was good news. Yes, I’d be happy not to hear from her, but that’d only convince me all the more that she bashed me to the bear. Should I really bother to write the bear next May? Should I bother sending a letter I know won’t get answered?

Later…

True to vibed, there was no word from jail. Don’t let my logic/vibes jump the gun, Tom urged me, telling me that if I don’t hear from the bear again, it could be for a million reasons and not necessarily cuz of Mary or Ida. She could get a better job opportunity, the county could lay her off, she could have to leave the state on a family emergency, they could have a policy in February stating that all personal mail will be returned, etc.

This is true, but what are the chances of any of those things happening as opposed to Mary and Ida ruining things for me?

Tom seems to be more empathetic about this than I thought he’d be. He even promised to help me see if I could find her online when it gets closer.

Although I hope not, maybe Tom’s right when he suggested that just like with Rosa, our time was meant to be brief, and not an introduction to a whole ‘nother chapter in life. Maybe she was just destined to help me get through that place, and she sure did! Just like my heart would pound with happy, excited anticipation when I’d be called for visits, it would when I’d see she was on, too. She totally made my night when she was on. When she was on, I knew everything would be ok. She made the time fly. An hour’s visit with Tom felt like 10 minutes, and 8 hours with Teddy Bear felt like just a couple of hours. Palma never made my nights like she did.

I don’t know what to think at this point. My vibes say everything’s cool as far as the bear goes, but logic says it isn’t. I know firsthand how spiteful people can be and over the dumbest things, too.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 2001 I’m up 2 pounds, and if I don’t shit soon, this last week of dieting’s gonna be a total waste.

Since Dave, like most guys, is dumb and useless around the house, Tom’s hoping he can comp a deal with Mary. Mary mentioned wanting to put up a couple of ceiling fans in her house. Well, if Tom mentions that we do too, perhaps she’ll buy us the fans for his installing them for her.

Later…

Well, that’s good that I finally took a dump, but now I have to relose those 2 pounds, so that set me back a day or two. Then again, what’s the hurry? Teddy Bear will never see me again, Tom loves/accepts me no matter what, so I may as well go at a leisurely pace and not push it. Or maybe I’ll dump dieting altogether. We’ll see.

There have been no changes in back. APS still hasn’t powered up the place. I’m like - just get the power going, get in the damn house, have your “housewarming” party that we all have to hear about and get it over with.

It’s going to be cold in here tonight. It never even hit 80° inside the house or 75° outside.

Anyway, if I’m right about losing the bear, come next week with still no word from Mary, I’ll know it. I doubt she’d have the nerve to write to me to tell me all about it. I still don’t think I’ll ever hear from her again, and that if I do, it won’t be to say anything nice. My bad vibes are still down, but there’s still no reason to assume I’ll see the bear next May. Besides, it isn’t just Mary. I have another enemy in that place and one of them, if not both, had to have said something to her. I don’t think they both could’ve kept their big mouths shut.

I’m getting over my never seeing the bear again little by little, day by day.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 2001 The Brown Man died last night. Tom’s out cremating him now so he doesn’t attract maggots. We don’t bother to bury mice anyway. I just dread finding out just how many of these females are pregnant. And right after I finally segregated them without fucking up. It would’ve been too early to start breeding had I seen Teddy Bear next spring, but now I have no reason to breed at all. I have enough mice for myself.

It’s vet’s day today, so if Mary hasn’t gotten my last letter yet, she will tomorrow.

Bad vibes pertaining to behind us and at the jail have subsided greatly, but I don’t know why. Maybe Mary was planning to trash me, but then chilled out and decided this shit wasn’t worth fighting over. Or maybe I just don’t give a shit, since I resolved to not let anyone from jail get to me, and since I already resigned myself to the fact that I lost the bear. As are all things, it’s in God’s hands. If he wants the bear to visit next May, she will. If he doesn’t, she won’t.

Another thing is that if I end up getting yanked out of this house again and dragged into the city, then that’s where I’ll stay. If I’m meant to live in the city, I will. I’m not gonna have it be where sometimes I live here, sometimes I don’t.

I also won’t do a damn thing as far as working out and dieting goes. I’m starting to see a real difference again as far as muscle goes, and if I’m gonna be forced to lose all I’ve worked for again, I’m not starting over for the third time. I’m either all or nothing in this department, too. People should either always work out or just not bother. Working out on and off makes no sense. It’s just a waste.

I’m still 117 pounds, though, cuz I’m still stuck. If I’m having this much trouble at 117, there’s no way I’ll get even close to 105. In fact, I don’t think I’m going to lose anymore. I’ll still stick to the 1000-calorie diet, though, now that I found an easy way to do it. This way I’ll be sure never to go over 120 again. It’s just awfully sad that I can’t lose more than 7 pounds on such a low-calorie diet. If I were in my 20s, I’d already be 105, and if I continued on at the rate I’m going, I’d be emaciated in no time.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 2001 I finally forced myself to work out after having a good cry after Tom went to bed. I’m up to about 880 calories so far. I doubt I’ll crack 1000 today. I’d only be at 580 if it weren’t for the weekly sampler pack I get of 4 wonderful, sugary, flavored coffees. Carmel, vanilla, mocha, and something called Straight-up Latte.

Later…

I’m still 117 pounds. I’ve been on the diet for a week and losing 7 pounds in one week is still good. Now’s when it’s going to get tough and slow down. I’m already stuck.

Last night I began to feel better. Don’t get me wrong, I’d still undo my stupidity of trusting Mary and take my bear back in a heartbeat, but I can’t. What’s done is done and I put my foot down and decided not to be miserable over this shit day after day. I’ll be damned if I’ll let any inmates put the same stress on me in my own home that they put on me when I was stuck there with them. Mary G and Ida F are not going to bring me down. They stole any chances I might have had of having some kind of friendship, relationship or both with Teddy Bear, but they’re not going to take any more from me. Enough is enough. There, I couldn’t just ignore those who bothered me, but here I can. There are no vents to connect us, there’s no nothing to connect us.

I’ll still respond to any non-nasty letters I may be surprised with from Mary, but Ida will not hear from me no matter what she says.

My first guess is that I’ll never hear from Mary again. My second guess is that she’ll send me a letter bitching all about how I “used” her as if asking her to do something I told her she didn’t have to do is using her in the first place. If she hasn’t already, tomorrow’s the likely day she’ll trash me to the bear. Especially if she’s on her usual Monday M Dorm routine lately, and if Mary hasn’t gotten my “let’s be friends” letter, which still may not necessarily help things. People hold grudges. And for the dumbest things, too. And this is right after she contradicted me too, saying she wouldn’t give the address out to anyone, and how we got screwed by the government and the rest are criminals.

Anyway, the bear was never really mine to lose and I’m not gonna dwell on it. Yes, I’ll still write to her. Yes, I’ll miss her. Yes, I’ll always wonder about her, but she will live forever in my heart and memory. I will always cherish the memories of the brief time we had together. I will always appreciate and be grateful to her for going out of her way for me. She went beyond the call of duty and she really was my jailhouse guardian angel. I loved her with all my heart, though I’ll never really get the chance to know her, and I always will.

My bad vibes have backed off a little more, but I still have every reason to believe I’ll never see the bear again until and unless proven differently.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 2001 This is the most I’ve cried since I’ve been home. Each day it gets easier, but it’s going to take a while. I can’t believe I even bothered to respond to Mary’s first letter in the first place and that these people are still causing problems/stress for me on the outs! I don’t have to live with these people anymore (thank God) yet they’re still pissing me off and making me miserable. Fuck that shit! And fuck you Mary G and Ida F for fucking me out of my bear!!!

I keep trying to tell myself over and over again like a broken record how I’d be better off not seeing the bear anyway, that she’d have only ended up burning me, that there’s a lot of good to not seeing her again, but you know what? I’m not very good at lying to myself. Yes, there is some good to this, I’m sure, and perhaps it really is all for the better, but it still hurts. And there’s no way to fix this mess, either. I lost the bear cuz I asked Mary to do something she didn’t want to do, and now all I can do is move on and hope they don’t make any more trouble for me. Costing me my bear is one thing, but costing me my freedom is another. I still don’t see that happening, but you just never know. Anything could cause anyone to end up in jail in this state. Last night I was plagued with dreams of being a jail, being told by some nameless, faceless DO that the press was eating me alive, but I don’t know that this is necessarily a warning of trouble to come. I’ve had these kinds of dreams on and off ever since I’ve been home.

I realize more and more that Mary’s not getting out of there anytime soon. I think she’ll be there 6 more months to a year. Maybe even longer.

I haven’t had the energy to work out or much of an appetite. In fact, I stayed at 117 pounds because I only ate a few bites of macaroni on top of that burger and blizzard yesterday. Having backstabbers snatch from you someone you love and are attracted to does that to you.

Words can’t express just how glad I am we don’t have a kid. Not just because life would suck all the more with having to deal with the expense and demands of a kid on top of everything else, but I would’ve hated to have to level with the kid about life and all that. I’d have had to tell her or him, don’t believe anything anyone says. Don’t put your trust in anyone. God help you if you make an enemy, for they won’t just walk away. They’ll bring you down on their way out of your life.

How depressing as well as true, huh?

I’ll tell you one thing for sure and that’s that although I doubt Teddy Bear will call in a mad frenzy about this shit if she does, I’m going to let her know up front that if she harms me anyway simply because she’s pissed off at me, I will take legal action against her.

Another thing I’ve lost is the time she might’ve filled. Visiting with Teddy Bear would’ve given me more to do and filled more of my time since there’s only so much I can do sitting at home. I’d still rather be bored here than sitting in jail, but even so, I’ve lost so much. As long as she didn’t meet anyone in the meantime, I’ve lost so damn much. And all for asking a simple little favor of someone I’d done so much for. I can’t believe the selfishness in this world! You do for me but don’t dare ask me to do for you. That’s how so many people are.

I said I had had a bad vibe for the 3rd - well - those freeloaders arriving and my losing the bear is awfully close to the 3rd.

I ask myself - would Ida tell her PO to tell mine that I wrote her when she wrote me, too? Yes, she would. She would, even though it’d mean sinking her own ass as well. People will bring their own selves down to bring others down. The freeloader gave up a free house for me. They thought I was that worth it. So why not do more jail time for me, too? Mary, on the other hand, has nothing to lose, since she’s going to be in jail for years. Even if a year or two more was added to her sentence, it wouldn’t matter. She’s got enough years to do as it is that one or two more won’t really make a difference.

Worries, worries, worries! God, please don’t let Mary and Ida trash me to the bear!

Oh, like he really cares? He had me send the letter to Bill when I did for a reason - to get me into jail. So he’s going to have Mary trash me for a reason, too. I only hope it isn’t to go back to jail! Just cuz I’m bored a lot lately doesn’t mean I want to fill my time with adventures that aren’t very fun. I’ve had enough negative excitement in my life. I really thought Tammy would laugh at Bill for getting a letter like he did from me. I didn’t realize she was still so in love with him, but she is one of those who falls in love with abusive men. So, even though he was abusive to her and the kids, she’s still gonna jump to defend him.

I thought Teddy Bear and I met for a reason - to be with each other even if it was only on occasion. But now I see that it was only God teasing me into thinking I could have her. Just like he’s teased me before with a million other things. How could I have been dumb enough to believe that after 35 years I’d have a woman like her in my life, part-time or not? If it wasn’t meant to be in the past, why would it be meant to be now? And yes, I believe God used my stupidity and Mary’s vindictiveness to take the bear away from me. Things happen for a reason.

Oh, Teddy Bear, I’m so so sorry for trusting that bitch!

If this shit hadn’t happened, I’d be so thrilled if she called me now, but now, if she called me, I’d be like - oh, no! All she’d do is tell me how pissed off she was and not to write to her. Then I’d tell her I was sorry for my poor judgment call and that in the meantime, if you don’t like me, don’t have anything to do with me. Don’t shit on me either. Just go away.

Then she’d be nothing more than just a memory to me.

Later…

I worked some more on my bio since I’ll never have any more typing to do for Mary, nor any proofreading to do for Teddy Bear. Yes, I’m down to having just one project, other than the usual household chores I do, along with my hobbies, and just two appointments a month. Wow, huh? Lucky me. Now if I could just be surprised with a letter from Mary saying all’s cool, or a response to my letter from the bear in May, life would be even better. But neither of these things are going to happen, so I best just deal with it, get on with life and get over it. It’s just that I can’t control the pace at which I do this. I wish I could speed things up, but I can’t. Slowly my wounds will heal, but slowly. Meanwhile, 10 years from now I wouldn’t be surprised if I found myself wondering whatever became of my tall, redheaded jailhouse guardian angel that I came to love and never got to know. I’ll never even know if that R really does stand for Rebecca or Rachel.

Lo siento y ich liebe dich, my sweet Teddy Bear.

At least I can ask Tom for favors like spraying the outsides of the doors to keep the spiders out, without him turning on me.

I haven’t even had 700 calories today and I’m not the least bit hungry. I wish it could be like this every day, minus the anxiety and depression.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 2001 I’m doing wonderful. My stomach’s in a knot, my lungs are tight, my heart’s pounding with anxiety, and I’m madder than hell (at least I’m down to 117 pounds). Damn you, Ida, for starting this shit! That woman has caused me more stress and misery than even Melinda and Nancy. And damn Mary for turning against me all for asking her to do me a simple little favor she could’ve said no to. If she gave my address and God knows what else to Ida, she’ll certainly trash me to Teddy Bear. That’s the problem with people who decide they don’t like you anymore. They don’t just drop you. They fuck you over.

Anyway, I decided that if a little ass-kissing may save me my bear, I’d do it. So, after thinking about it for a while, I decided that even though my gut instincts about Mary are probably right, perhaps I was jumping the gun and assuming too much. So, I wrote her saying I was very sorry if I upset her, her friendship means a lot to me, I’d still like to help her with her book…

That way, if she was planning on telling/showing letters to the bear, it may change her mind, unless she’s already done it. If she’s done it already, it’s too late, I lost the bear, there’s nothing I can do about it, etc. If I can butter her back up, though, it may prevent her from doing anything stupid that’d cost me my bear. I’d like to believe she wouldn’t trash me after all I’ve done for her like typing up her story, making her birthday cards, sending inspirational letters and all that, but people are that mean. They truly are. And Ida’s no doubt egging her on, influencing her to shit on me if she hasn’t already done it herself.

Unless I’m surprised with a letter from Mary letting me know she’s still cool with me, I’m going to put a hold on proofreading any more of the bear’s copy. I’ll still send a letter to her on the first of May, but I’ll know not to expect a response. If Mary shows her the stuff I’ve written about her, even though it’s all good, there’s no way she’s going to trust me enough to want to associate with me in any way. Damn me for trusting Mary! If I get thrown back in that place on account of her or Ida, they’re dead. If I can get my hands on them, they’re so so very dead.

Also, if I should be miraculously blessed with a letter saying things are okay from Mary, I’ll play nice at least till I write the bear. Hopefully, she’ll get the fuck out of there soon enough! If Mary hasn’t already made up her mind to dump me, I still intend to dump her. I’ll just slowly fade away with time. For now, though, if I hear back from her in a good way, I’ll write less and I’ll write shorter letters, keeping all other people out of it save for Tom.

If Teddy Bear surprises me by calling me this month, it’ll be to chew me out. “How could you send anyone that shit?!” she’d say.

How could I have been so stupid?

Anyway, I gotta go see the cheeks (fortunately I don’t have jail vibes), then I’ll get my weekly treat at Dairy Queen. However, with the way my stomach’s so queasy with fear, anxiety, paranoia and depression, I may not be able to enjoy it all that much.

I bawled my eyes out last night knowing I’ll never see that face again. Never hear her voice. Never get to hug/kiss her or anything more. Now I’m not only left to wonder what would’ve happened my last night there with her if Misha hadn’t been around but I’m also left to forever wonder exactly what would’ve happened between us. I’ll still try to breed various mice, though I know her being a closed chapter in my life is for a reason. Things happen for a reason, so I’ll just have to accept that God must’ve had good reasons for using Mary and Ida to intercept our impending visit. I don’t know, maybe it would’ve gotten harder and harder to say goodbye each time I saw her. I’ll be sad for a while, but I’ll get over her. It just may take 2-3 years, but the lust part of it would’ve died anyway with time, regardless of how well we got along.

Later…

Tom just went to bed even though it’s early. That’s cuz he’s been going to work earlier these last few days.

We were in and out of Scot’s, then off to Dairy Queen, where I managed to scarf down a double cheeseburger and a blizzard. I still have some of the blizzard left, and as always, I gave some to Little Buddy.

Oh, Scot said he mailed the county a progress report on me like he’s supposed to do every 6 months. God, I feel like a kid all over again with these little report cards! My only worry with that is that they see I finished my community service, they see I finished with Helen, but what do they do when they see I’m not “working?” Well, once again, my life’s been altered enough over this shit and I’m not about to rearrange any more of it. I’d love a home job, so if they think they can find a convicted felon a home job, and if they want me to work, let them find me that job.

They’ve been booming again, although they must be further away this time because the booms are softer. Not enough to wake me up.

I’ve been hearing the weirdest sounds lately. Sounds that sound just like car doors, though I never see any cars moving, and I know I couldn’t possibly hear car doors from in back or next door. So, I don’t know what it is I’m hearing, but I swear they are car doors. I wonder if this should worry me, though everything has me paranoid, if not worried, these days.

Dan’s people have a better view of all 3 rentals cuz they can see the backs of the houses which sit side by side. Driving by Dan’s and looking past at the rentals, I was shocked to see just how far apart they are. They must be a couple of hundred feet apart, but seeing them from here all lined up makes you think they’re closer.

I’m a lot depressed and a little worried. I mean, I don’t see how what I wrote could get me thrown back in jail as long as Scot doesn’t get wind of it. I never used “racial slurs” or threats of any kind, but I did mention names and I wrote about those people, the stupid fool I am! And once my bear learns about it, she’ll be pissed and completely turned off. Just the fact that I wrote about her is all it’ll take. Why did I open up to this bitch and put my trust in her, someone who has years and years to do in jail with nothing to lose? Like Tom said, what am I gonna do? Threaten her? And with what? Telling her auntie Carolyn what a two-faced, phony, lying, back-stabbing asshole she is? Maybe she is guiltier than I thought as far as her kids go, too. Just the fact that she gave Ida the note and gave her the address tells me something right there; that she’s turned on me. And instead of telling herself, well, I really shouldn’t put Johnson on the spot and embarrass her in any way, she will. She’ll spite my bear to spite me if it’ll cost me my seeing her next May.

I ask myself, though, would someone really get pissed at my asking them to slip a note.

Yes. Yes, they would. Look how the freeloaders took my asking them to turn their fucking stereo down, and remember, that’s what started this whole chain of events in the first place; me asking them to lower their music. I don’t know why, but simple little reasonable requests really do set people off. Especially out west. And out west, when someone gets pissed off at you, they drag others into it just to fuck you over all the more. They don’t have the balls to face you directly and keep things between them and you. And how could she feel “used?” I mean, I don’t know for sure that she does. That could be just Ida talking, but if she feels used by my asking something like that, I should feel incredibly used for being asked to type up page after page of her life story! If she felt used, upset or pissed in any way about my request, couldn’t she have told me so herself? I told her she never had to do anything she didn’t want to do, so what’s the big deal? Is there more to this than I know of? I know a lot of it is Ida’s influence. Mary’s a very suggestive, gullible person. That’s why I hope my letter insisting I didn’t mean to offend anyone and that I want our friendship to work out will convince her to at least not trash me to Teddy Bear and drag her into this shit. She doesn’t need or deserve that.

If I don’t hear from her, or if I get a letter that’s not the least bit nice, I won’t bother writing to her ever again, but I’ll still take a shot at my bear next May, even though I know it’ll be useless. If I do get a letter from her saying everything’s cool, I’ll write to her to keep her from spiting me, but will write much fewer and much shorter letters. If I dump her without being dumped first before May, she could turn on me for that alone.

I keep trying to tell myself that everything will be okay and that I don’t know for sure that Mary’s turned on me and that I lost the bear, but I had to have. Her giving Ida what she gave her tells me that. Plus, I haven’t heard from her since they’ve been cellies. So, if Mary can give Ida the note and the address and tell Palma I had a crush on her, why not show the bear the stuff I was stupid enough to send?

How could I have been so trusting as to open up to this person?! Ugh!!! I swear I’ll never trust another human being again other than Tom. I’m not even going to write Palma, Pérez and Espi, regardless of whether or not I hear from the bear.

I’m just glad I don’t have to go this shit alone, although Tom doesn’t seem overly empathetic about the damn good possibility of me losing the bear. Maybe deep down he’s glad. Of course, I know that if I don’t get a response from her next May, it could be for some other reason. I highly doubt it, though. If I don’t hear from her, I’d say there’d be an 80% chance it was cuz of Mary and Ida. It really pisses me off but mostly bums me out to think I’ll never see my Teddy Bear again. Although my bad vibes have backed off a bit about the freeloaders in back, I’d rather they pummel these walls with base every day than lose my bear.

I’d also rather lose her than go back to jail, and I still do worry about that, as much as it seems unlikely. It’s just that that’s what I thought a year ago, too. I’d go to court, and be told I was to receive extra probation time only to find out 5 minutes prior to sentencing that I was to do months in jail. I was never kidding when I said that something up there had an obsession with me being stuck in all different places I didn’t want to be. It was like I was being teased and punished for living here and like the city didn’t want to let me go. Something up there also loves for me to worry my ass off over nothing, so let’s hope that’s all this is. But what am I gonna do? Worry my ass off about something every 6 months? That’s no way to live. This stress, anxiety, paranoia, and depression is no way to live.

All I can do is just try to look at the good as a way of helping me to get over her. I feel less pressured to lose weight since, after all, I did tell her I was going to lose weight. I don’t have to bother trying to breed certain mice, not that I’ve had much luck with that anyway. Perhaps it’s all for the better that we don’t see each other. I’d certainly rather have a full-time relationship with my husband than a part-time one with any woman. It makes no sense that God would connect us like he did and have us fall for each other, but it does. Meaning, I’ve never had a woman I was into this much, so why would I now? If one wasn’t meant to be up till now, why would it be meant to be now, part-time or not?

Anyway, now it’s just a matter of sitting back, trying to relax as best I can, and hope for the best. Hope that whether or not I hear from Mary, I don’t get in trouble and I hear from my bear come what May.

Later…

My bad freeloader vibes have backed off considerably and my bad bear vibes have backed off a little. But only a microscopic bit. I still have every reason to believe I lost her. And I lost her all for asking Mary to slip someone a note that she didn’t want to slip.

What burns me up is that like with the freeloaders and most everyone else that’s ever fucked me over in any way, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. There’s just no fighting back. I also don’t believe in dragging innocent people into feuds. Why involve her aunt in this? She didn’t do anything. I could’ve been meaner than hell and dragged Larry Jr. into my dispute with his sick father, but I didn’t. I know it really would’ve hurt like hell too, for him to hear things like - you murdered your son just like you yourself said - etc.

I can’t picture Teddy Bear being spiteful in the way that most people are, but would she go further than just not having anything to do with me? Would she contact Scot herself? Would she call and bitch me out, telling me to forget about writing to her next year? Or would she be pissed, then be chilled out by May, finding my letter too sweet to resist responding to?

Fat chance on that last one!

Just how closely do the mailroom people read letters? If they spotted DO’s names would they still give the letter to Mary? Or would they themselves find a way to bring it to the bear’s attention?

Anyway, unless Scot contacts me about this shit, it’s going to be 2-3 weeks before I know for sure what’s going on. I mean, there’s still a chance that Mary just may, after all, drop me without dragging Teddy Bear into this, but I highly doubt it.

Sooner or later, I’m going to get over Teddy Bear, but it hurts. It really hurts. To know I’ll never see her, never learn her name, never learn about her, never hug her, never give her any mice, never show her this house, never see her house, and yes, never have sex. I know it would’ve come to that as long as she wasn’t with anyone she met during the year. But like I said before, I never made it with someone I was this attracted to in the past, so why would I now? That always seemed to be totally forbidden to me. Just not in the cards at all.

Sooner or later Mary’s not going to be a witness anymore and the DOC has to come and get her, regardless of what state she’ll be in, but not soon enough. Nowhere near soon enough. Even her getting out of there in 3 weeks isn’t fast enough because the bear usually works there once every week or two (although Mary said she hadn’t worked there in weeks). Teddy Bear may not work M Dorm till 3 weeks from now, but I know Mary will be there then and whether or not she’s with Ida, she’ll trash me then. It’ll be worse, though, if she is with Ida. They’d feel much more comfortable trashing me together since they’re both pissed at me than they would if they were separated. Not that separation would change things. They’ll still fuck me over. Especially Mary. It’s just that she may do it a bit more gently if she doesn’t have Ida right there cheering her on.

What’s done is done, though, and what’s fated to be is going to be. If I’m not meant to have the bear in my future, I won’t. God’s not going to let me have what he doesn’t want me to have. Period. I just wish he didn’t let the bear and I mount to what we did if he doesn’t want us to be a part of each other’s lives! It’s like - why have me crying over not being able to have a kid from 1994-1997 if he knew he didn’t want me having one?

If only I could be wrong, though! I don’t see how there could be a chance of that, but oh how nice it’d be to get a letter from Mary saying she was never mad at me, yes we’re still friends, no I haven’t shown any of your stuff to anyone.

Here’s another question I have: could she two-face me by bullshitting me by saying everything’s cool, yet trash me to the bear behind my back? I think that, in a sense, would be even worse; having her be all lovey-dovey in her letters all the while she’s laughing her ass off, fucking me over behind my back!

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 2001 In between my final run-through of the bear’s copy, I began my autobiography.

Now that I don’t have a zillion appointments and have completed most of my writing and household projects, I find myself getting bored here and there. I’d rather that, though, than be overwhelmed with being in jail or having a zillion freeloader-related appointments. Even non-freeloader-related appointments can get to be a bit much after a while.

I did a little rearranging of the walls earlier. After 2 years, even a rather pleasant arrangement can get old, so I swapped some pictures within a few of the rooms.

Still no music in back cuz they’re not in the house yet.

It’s already coming up on 1:00 and I haven’t had to kick the AC on yet. It’s gorgeous out. I’ve got windows open in all the rooms but his office, the den, and the retreat. Actually, I shut the kitchen window cuz the sun is on its way back there. Early this morning it was quite chilly in here. We’re getting closer to needing the heat.

I’m still accumulating a few scattered songs off the web that I had trouble finding for a while. The original plan was to get either a CD changer or an MP3 player with my birthday and Christmas money, but as I told Tom, it’d be nice to do everything via computer. The only bitch about that would be having to deal with turning the monitor on and off since I don’t like rocking out with lights on at night. Also, switching from song to song may be a bit of a bitch. That’d depend on how big my list was, I guess. I’d probably alphabetize them. I’d have it hooked up to the stereo because although MP3s are small, they do take up space when you have hundreds of them. When using the regular computer, like when I’m writing letters or something like that, I listen to online radio stations to listen for new songs I like. With an MP3 player, I certainly could change my playlists around a lot easier, whereas with CDs, it’s not like I could rearrange the tracks anytime I felt like it.

Tom’s going to hit some stores and check into the prices of MP3 players and CD changers, and find out what they entail. Like, do they have a way of indexing what songs are where? If they’re not going to be any more convenient than a computer, I won’t bother. I’ll spend the money on other things like maybe a palm tree for the empty corner in the dining area, a doll, new rat cage…

I’m 118 pounds today. I would’ve been really shocked if I hadn’t gone down some more. Tomorrow I’ll go up a couple of pounds because it’ll be my day to indulge in a burger and some ice cream and maybe even a single bag of popcorn. I miss reading with popcorn. I haven’t been reading at all. I think I’ll have Tom pick me up some celery stalks and some cucumbers to munch on while I read this Saturday when he does the grocery shopping. The freeloaders have altered our grocery shopping schedule a bit. The first two Fridays of the month aren’t convenient for him to go grocery shopping cuz those are the days I see The Cheeks. Therefore, he goes on Saturday.

Anyway, I’m so sick of potatoes! I’m going to drop to just one package of potatoes a day, and also have a small box of pudding, a banana and a package of corned beef. This way I’ll have a better variety, and better to munch on a 14-calorie celery stalk, as boring as it is, and a 21-calorie cucumber, than a 300-calorie bowl of popcorn while reading.

I decided to do one more schedule rollover. Then, although my senses don’t sense my Teddy Bear in the near future, I’ll be prepared and ready for her should she jump out and surprise me with a pre-Christmas call, using my making-up cards for her as an excuse. I’ll also be set for the vacation he plans to take throughout the week of my birthday. We’re going to go play miniature golf and hit Game Works, too. It’s not eating at Red Lobster and shopping at malls for dolls, books, and clothes, but it’ll be a fun break from the usual routine. I’m looking forward to it.

Later…

Got a surprise in the mail from Ida, of all people, and what she said makes me wonder if I can trust Mary and if I should bother associating with her. The letter was only a few sentences. She says: No, Mary didn’t slip me your “nasty” note. She handed it to me since we’ve been cellies for 2 weeks. I’ll be out there again shortly and you will hear further from me then. Why did you use Mary like that, you coward?

So, in my reply I wrote: I hope you know that my intentions weren’t to be “nasty.” I was just being a smart-ass by saying shame on you for being in there, etc., and as I’m sure Mary knows, I wasn’t using her. I just wanted to play a little joke on you. You know how I was with my little pranks. I’m glad to hear you and Mary are cellies. You can share this with her.

Truthfully, Ida, I don’t care what you’ve done in the past or in the present to get in there. I like you, you’re an interesting person, and you were a good celly (even if we clashed at times), I just don’t think we should get together on the outs. You’re welcome to write me all you want, though.

Anyway, it’s ok that Mary gave her the note (which was not nasty in the least) and that Ida wrote to me, but here’s what worries me about Mary. It bugs me to know that she went against my wishes and simply handed it to her. It also makes me question just how trustworthy she is to know she gave Ida our address, even if it’s just the PO Box. Yes, I gave Ida the address before I got out, but she wouldn’t have had it with her in jail, she certainly wouldn’t have remembered it, which means Mary, who swore she wouldn’t give it out, had to have given it to her.

Tom said not to jump the gun and assume too much, and perhaps I am being paranoid, but I don’t know. There’s just something about the whole thing that really bothers me and I think it’d be best to hope she never writes to me again and for me not to write to her again. I’m not supposed to be in contact with those with records, anyway.

My only worry is Mary or Ida saying anything to Teddy Bear. Or worse, showing her my mail! I haven’t said anything wrong/illegal and I’d hope that if they did try to turn Teddy Bear against me she’d know better, but that’d be up to her should they open their mouths. There’s nothing I can do from here but hope she’s not involved in this and that Ida doesn’t do something like tell her PO when she gets out to tell my PO that we’ve had contact. Then again, where’s the law that says I can’t write to others in jail? I think this do-not-associate-with-those-with-records thing pertains to those who are on the outs.

Tentatively, I’m just going to quietly go away. Then, if I do hear from either one of them, I’ll decide how to handle it then.

Later…

The more I think about this shit with Mary and Ida, the more worried I become. I hope to hell it’s just pure paranoia on my part, but Mary’s turned on me, obviously, and so’s Ida. But why? Why would asking Mary to slip Ida that note which wasn’t nasty or else it’d never have gotten through the mailroom, upset Mary in any way, not that I can say for sure that it did? How is that “using” her? I told her she didn’t have to do it if she didn’t want to. She had me type stuff up for her, but I didn’t feel used. And just what does Ida mean when she says I’ll hear from her further once she gets out? That has a rather menacing ring to it. Does she simply mean she’ll write? Is it just talk? Or does she have any evil plans in mind?

The worst-case scenario is that I’ll get thrown back in jail over this, and the second case, which is the more likely one, is that they cost me my Teddy Bear. I don’t know, I just have visions of Ida saying, “Hey, Johnson! Jodi sent me a nasty note!” then she and Mary telling her all kinds of BS. I’d hope that Teddy Bear wouldn’t let them influence her in any way, but they could be flagging my letters around the whole damn jail for all I know. I wouldn’t care if they were as long as my bear didn’t get wind of it. And after all I’ve done to help Mary - God, I am so stupid! When am I going to learn - if you don’t want to be burned by people, don’t associate with them?

Well, hopefully my letter of explanation will back Ida off, and hopefully she and Mary will keep their mouths shut and not cost me my bear or get me in trouble, but even if it turns out that I’ve got Mary all wrong and she sends me the kindest letter, I’m just going to ignore her. This bout of paranoia, be it justified or not, is enough to scare me off. I’m going to ignore them both and hope they’ll do the same.

I know I haven’t written Mary anything wrong or illegal, but somehow, despite the fact that the bear did nothing wrong either, I doubt she’d like hearing or reading anything I’ve had to say about her, as good as it all was. Yeah, I lost my bear. I just lost my bear, dammit! Damn Mary and Ida to hell! They’re vindictive enough to do it and I know they did. I know they dragged my bear into this, turned her off and scared her off forever! Damn them!!!

Later…

A million possibilities run through my mind. Perhaps I am being paranoid about Mary because come to think of it, she wrote me after I asked her to pass my message to Ida, and that’s not something you get bent out of shape over. If you don’t want to pass a message, you don’t. For all I know, Ida could’ve written that letter to me behind her back and what she said could’ve been bullshit. Ida’s already proven to be a liar.

But Mary can be funny, too. She and I agreed she’d be the one to move since she didn’t mind big cells, but what did she do? She got all pissed off over it when it happened. She could be more two-faced than I’d imagined.

I hope that just like I was paranoid about losing the house I’m just being paranoid about losing the bear, but right now I have every reason to believe I lost her and that Mary and Ida told her about my letters and maybe even showed them to her. That’s my biggest concern right now. Way more so than being thrown back there. What’s done is done, though, and if I’ve lost her, I’ve lost her. Of course it pisses me off and saddens the hell out of me, but there is good in us never getting together as well. That is that even if the chances were one in a million of her fucking me over, she’ll never get that chance. So, all bad things have their good to them, too. All I can do is ignore Mary and Ida, hope they let me ignore them, write to the bear in May, and just live with it when I get no response.

Today’s the first day so far that we didn’t run the AC all day.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 2001 Yesterday I woke up at 120 pounds and was surprised to be down barely a pound. I thought I’d be down to 118 today, but instead I was barely down to 119. I don’t know why. I didn’t exceed 1100 calories yesterday and am still shitting out what I eat. I didn’t expect things to slow down until I got down to 115. All I know is that if this low-calorie diet doesn’t work, nothing will. I may have too much muscle to get down as low as 100, but there’s no reason the fat shouldn’t dissolve if I don’t go over 1100 calories and I only splurge weekly.

Where it gets hard is having to have the same old things day after day. So, when I realized that the fat-free, sugar-free puddings were pretty equal to one of the potato packs I’ve been having, I decided that next week I’ll substitute one of the two potato packs for a pudding. So I’ll have two servings of meat, a huge serving of potatoes, and a small box of pudding. That’s under 1000 calories. I have to lose weight on that.

I’ve finished proofreading Teddy Bear’s copy and now I’m listening to it. I realize I could never be happy. Meaning, I could go through the story a million times and still find changes to make. Not necessarily mistakes, but things I feel should be changed around a bit.

I wrote Mary a letter. I know she’s got her own shit to deal with, but I wish she’d write more often. I want any Teddy Bear updates she may have for me, too!

It’s still unseasonably warm, yet cool at night. I open windows when I get up, even if it means making the house smell like horses, then shut them and turn the AC on around 1:00.

Still haven’t heard from them back there yet, but what an eyesore the whole place is. Yes, we need walls up back there. Fortunately, we can’t see the Mexicans next door cuz they have a big tree blocking their little dump. We can see Dan’s house, but not nearly as well as this one in back cuz it’s further away.

There’s this one chick in particular that bothers me. She looks awfully blackish, but she may be connected to the silver pickup and I don’t think the silver pickup lives there. A pack of Mexicans is bad enough, but to sprinkle the scene with a black or two on top of it all would really be the ultimate nightmare!

Anyway, I don’t know what’s taking APS so long to finish their job, but there have been workers working there like crazy. One’s this scruffy-looking white guy with a gold pickup. They haven’t even skirted the house yet, and if they’ve carpeted, I wouldn’t know. Boy, would it be noisy with all those people if they were just a few feet away! But stereos can travel for miles, and although my bad vibe is backed off a bit, I still say we’ll hear from them 1-3 times a week from their house stereo once they get settled in. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if they were evicted from wherever it is they came from.

I didn’t get a look at the driver, but the silver pickup just went by with what appeared to be propane tanks for the trailer. I also saw a dark-colored car leave the property, but at the angle it was at, it could’ve emerged from the middle house. The owner of the blue pickup might actually have a job somewhere cuz it’s been absent during normal business hours, save for Monday when they first showed up. Tom’s so sure they’re not Section 8, reminding me that while that sicko Debra was the one renting the house, her boyfriend was illegal and he was the one with the van, not her. So what’s to say we don’t have the same case back there? Either way, there’s gonna be trouble. We’re still looking at lots of noise and trash. And company too, since Mexicans have a zillion family members. They may not come and go every 45 minutes, and they may not have 5 or more carloads of people coming to see them on a daily basis, but there’ll still be too much commotion for comfort. A city-like atmosphere that’ll totally clash with Maricopa. I just don’t know why people like this would want to live way out here. I guess it’s just a matter of God’s desperation to continually sic these sickos on me.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 2001 I’m so fucking pissed right now. No, I’m beyond pissed. I’m furious!

Trouble’s finally moved in behind us, and I know without a doubt there will be trouble. Just one look told me that. As soon as they get settled, they’ll be notorious for all kinds of noise, particularly music.

We got a whole family of freeloaders back there. I saw at least 2 or 3 little kids and 2 adult females. If there’s a man in the picture, I don’t know.

It’s like - fuck! Here we go again. The same old shit all over again, though they’re not at arm’s length this time. They’re gonna drive me crazy with base thumping like hell, they’re gonna trash our land, and you know what? There won’t be a damn thing we can do about it. Whites don’t win going up against minorities whether they have connections or not. I’ll be damned if I’ll make one single little complaint once their shit hits the fan. Why would I? So they can cry racism and harass us more? Maybe get me thrown in jail while they’re at it? I don’t think so!

I’m just so fucking ripped shitting mad right now - ugh! It’s always me that has to get stuck with this shit. Why?! Why God? Why do you insist other’s business be mine? There’s just no escaping what we moved from, is there? I knew it was just a matter of time too, before the shit hit the fan again. I’m totally cursed when it comes to neighbors in this state. Totally cursed.

Anyway, these are the kinds of people that are home all day and that live outdoors. You might have one adult in the household working, but even worse so, I’d bet they’re Section 8. Section 8 with nothing better to do, but blast music and hang outside (in between drug sales). The adults are going to feel too cooped up with the kids inside the house, they’re gonna be like - so what if there are snakes, scorpions and black widows out there? - They’re gonna put the kids outside, and knowing they’re too young to be left unsupervised (at least, I think they’d know that), they’re not gonna just sit there bored. They’re gonna put a nice big fat stereo speaker or two in their windows and blast it outside. Mexicans, like we got to the north of us, are very few and far between; that work and that keep their shit to themselves.

It’s always the blacks and Mexicans that have to come and ruin an otherwise peaceful place. Always! Yeah, congratulations, blacks and Hispanics! You made a die-hard racist here, didn’t you? I’m just tired of God and his obvious obsession with throwing these kinds of sick fucks in my face and having them butt into my peace, my life, etc. It’s like he’s saying, “Oh, no you don’t! You cannot live in peace and block out others from your life. If you’re not going to see other people, in or out of your house, you’re going to at least hear them. You cannot ignore them.”

It’s like he wants to constantly remind me that these people exist. As if I could forget! And why must the past always follow me? Poverty always follows me. The blacks, the Hispanics, the subsidy, etc. Like something wants to remind me of where I came from. Again, like I could forget even if I wanted to. Yes, Maricopa’s just as riddled with Mexicans as the city is, but not many of these 10-acre lots have rentals/freeloaders on them. Right now, we and the people at Dan’s are the only whites out of all the houses you can see well enough from this house, which is now 5 houses. I can’t say what’s renting the middle house, but from the looks of it, the farthest house is definitely freeloader-infested. I can tell that by their dumpy cars and the way they trash their place. Although a lot of owners out here tend to be just as big of slobs. That much I will say. Still, you can almost always look at a house out here and tell if whites live there or not.

They’ve given me every reason to hate them and every reason to know there’ll be trouble from back there. There’s nothing to say there won’t be. What I don’t get is - why not just stay in the city if you like noise and commotion? Why would these people want to come all the way out here? To spoil it for others? And damn George for being such a freeloader-lover!

There’s still no power hooked up. They’re doing what we did. They’re all staying crammed in this little shit trailer till they can get into the house. They have a horse trailer too, but it doesn’t appear there are any horses in it. I hope not. They don’t have fences for that. It also appears they may have one beat-up car and one OK pickup.

I really loved sitting in here when I was up during the daytime, hearing nothing but peace and quiet, and now I’ll be forced to give that up. I’ll have to start sleeping with the fan on high and having music on all the time. Even when I don’t want to hear it. It’s just that if I’m going to be forced to listen to music, I’d just assume have it be my own. Guess there was a reason why I had Tom put nice speakers on the computer yesterday! I have one in here and one out in the living room, so I could listen to the online radio stations while working out. So, as soon as the place goes thump thump with the sound of their base, I can have music out there, too.

I used to get bummed when freeloading trouble like this would move in next to me (behind me in this case), and I’m bummed, alright, but not nearly as bummed as I am furious. I’m so pissed at God for doing this to me over and over again. What’s he gonna do? Send them out in a boat after us once we get on the boat and out in the middle of the ocean? I wouldn’t put it past him. Makes me wonder if he’d preferred I’d married a freeloader with a dozen kids. And it’s usually those with kids that tend to be worse. I’m just so pissed knowing we’ll be forced to be victimized for years till one of us moves (they tend to hate us as much as we hate them).

They’ll love using our fence as a clothesline, once it goes up, but I’d rather that than have their trash dumped over it, and once the plants we plant back there grow tall and bushy, we won’t be able to see the clothes draped over the fence much. It’s just a pity that it’s going to be 6 months to a year before we can’t see them and their shit. Couldn’t you have waited another year, George?! For now, they’re in both sight and sound. Hopefully, it won’t be too long before they’re out of sight, if never out of sound. I also hope it won’t be long before they’re in the house, so I can hear their house stereo which isn’t quite as fierce as car stereos. Them being in a trailer is gonna tempt them to blast that car stereo more often, till the harsh roads fuck the thing up, not that they won’t fix it as fast as it breaks.

Why? Why come here, though, when they can sit in the city and have a million more drug customers and the opportunity to cause trouble? Their car stereo will work better there and there are more people there to hear it, so why come here? See, this tells me all the more that it’s God sending me trouble. They no doubt hate whites and want to ruin a nice, peaceful place to live. Unless George said anything, they don’t know us and Dan’s people are white, though common sense should say so. Nice new, well-kept homes owned by Mexicans? I don’t think so. The question is, how many years will they be here? It doesn’t matter, though, because together George and God would just send me a new batch to pick on me. I’m just sooo glad I don’t have to hear their car doors, them screaming or their dogs barking in this house if they get one.

George’s pickup has been there a couple of times this morning. It looks like he even hauled them in some water. Oh, how sweet of you, George.

I’ll be damned if I’ll make the mistake of bitching to Tom about them and letting them come between us this time around. Tom tends to be pretty defensive when it comes to neighbors, and if I bitch about them, all he’s going to do is make excuses for them, play things down, and make it sound like he’s on their side. You know how neighbor-conscious he is. It’s like he worships them or something.

At least I’ll be getting thinner while I listen to their shit. I finally discovered the right combination of food to lose weight without feeling so hungry all the time. I think I already mentioned this meat and potato diet, but anyway, it’s a piece of cake so far. In fact, I couldn’t even finish all of yesterday’s allotted food, and only ended up having about 900 calories. I’m already down 2 pounds too, to 122. So when I get fat a third time, I’ll know how to kick it back off faster. My body’s still gonna try to fight it once I hit down around 115 by being constipated and all that. I’m still rebelling against nature, so to speak. The question is, will I be able to get down to 110 or lower? You’d think I should be able to if I can comfortably keep my calories down with only one day a week to splurge, but we’ll see. I’m still 35. Not 25.

Later…

I just saw what looked like 2 adult male Mexicans drive a silver jeep-like thing down Ralston, then Meadow Green, then to the house. That’s a nice-looking jeep and pickup for poor, trashy freeloaders. Amazingly, I didn’t hear one beat of music. Not yet, anyway. It’s like the Phoenix freeloaders with all the nice cars, most of them quiet music-wise. It was only a few vehicles that were a source of music. Most of it came from the house which will no doubt be the case with these freeloaders. I’m almost positive none of them work. For all these people to be out and about in the middle of a Monday kind of tells me that. If not all, then some of them will be home all the time. How are all these people going to fit in a 3-bedrroom? That’s what I wondered in Phoenix, too. I swear history’s come to repeat itself all over again! What a chilling, uncanny, eerie resemblance to what we had in Phoenix. It’ll be interesting to see if they come and go every 45 minutes like they did in the city, and if they’re out running around naked at 3:00 in the morning during the summer, although that’d be hard to see from here even without walls.

Troublemakers don’t usually act up right away, though. Once they get settled in is when they act up. Within a week or two we should hear from them. That much I do know. Now I’m not so sure I want porches and a pool. What’s the point of trying to enjoy these things and the peaceful outdoors if the peaceful outdoors isn’t going to be so peaceful? If God can’t bring me to the city, he brings it to me. Even if I complained to George about the noise and trash-dumping and got results, what’s to say they don’t have some vengeful, white-hating friend hiding behind a label that says “biased crimes” waiting to type up a threatening letter and manipulate me into getting my prints on it? I’d know better, though, not to talk to pigs or touch anything they had, but still, I wouldn’t risk it. We’ll just have to take whatever shit they dish out at us.

Later…

Just talked to Tom, who suggested that maybe they were working on the house, but not going to live there, and that the adults working on the house took their kids so they wouldn’t have to find anyone to watch them, but no way. They live there. Why would they bring one trailer, plus a horse trailer, plus another flatbed trailer with God knows what on it, and two vehicles?

Later…

Still haven’t heard any shit yet, but the whole thing just pisses me off. It just pisses me the fuck off so bad! First I had to live in Puerto Rico back east and in Mexico out here. When can I live in the United States?

I can’t believe all the work people put into my bullshit case. With all the copies made of the journals, it’s no wonder they want $40 a month. They gotta get someone to pay for all that ink and paper.

One of the things the public defender showed me right before sentencing (convenient, huh?) was a sheet of paper presumably written by the DA complaining that I referred to the cunt’s boyfriend as “cock,” “it,” etc.

Now since when has it ever been illegal to call someone an “it?” I just don’t get the relevance here, since racism in that form isn’t yet illegal here. Another 5-10 years and they’ll hang us for calling them names like that. Maybe if our lawmakers had to live with them for a while, they wouldn’t be so quick to defend them and shower them with more rights than one could ever imagine any group of people could get.

Lots of clouds and some thunder today, but no rain yet. We did get a little bit of rain last night.

I take that back. It’s raining right now. Big fat raindrops. And the freeloader’s trailers are still here. Because they live here.

Later…

The jeep-like thing just left and this time I got a better look at it. It’s just a pickup with a camper shell and it’s not nice at all. In fact, it’s a piece of shit. The blue pickup’s gone, but the trailers are still here. I take it one, if not both of the trucks will return later, or else those huddled in the trailer would be stranded there. I’m sure that one of the owners of the trucks, if not both, lives there, too. There’s got to be at least 8 of them, counting kids and adults. God knows how many friends, cousins, aunts and uncles will move in with them later on. It’s ok. George won’t mind. Anything for a Section 8. He even said he hated to give one up himself when he was telling us about some other Section 8 nightmare he was evicting. Are there any Section 8s that aren’t nightmares? Makes me wonder.

Later…

The blue pickup just returned.

Holidays are no longer going to be peaceful out here. Holidays like Vet’s Day may be fine, but New Year’s Eve will be rocking. Christmas might even be too, since freeloaders tend to stay home on holidays and have people come to them. Heat and bad weather won’t put a damper on their outdoor antics, either.

God, I feel like I’m in the city that hated to see me go all over again, logging all these freeloading activities, bracing myself in the calm before the storm, knowing I’m in for all kinds of trouble. It’s fated to be and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop or change it. Only this time, the outcome will differ from the last. I’m not going to jail!

Today’s one of those days where I have no energy whatsoever. I can’t even bring myself to work out. That’s partly cuz of the dreary weather as well as my depression/anger that God could do this to me yet again, and sic a pack of freeloaders on me. Yes, I think I want to move up north if we don’t go on a boat or to a retirement community where there’s a little more money and less trash like this. I’d rather the cold and the snow than this fucking bullshit year after year. I’m really fucking sick of this shit. I’m fed up and I don’t need to take this crap time and time again. A person should have the right to live in peace. Then again, even though there’s less of them up north, God would only see to it that I got stuck with them, so I don’t know. If I’ve got to live with them either way, I may as well do it where the climate’s nicer. I knew the northeast was riddled with Ricans, the southeast was riddled with Cubans, but I had no idea just how infested with scum Mexicans the southwest really was! It’s terrible. I still say there’s more of them than us, but if not, they’re doing a damn good job of catching up. They breed like mice, after all.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2001 Saw Apple Cheeks, who says I can do the rest of my probation standing on my head.

Oh, I just can’t wait! Like I look soooo forward to it, too!

Anyway, the cheek’s schedule will be changing after the New Year. Instead of reporting to him the first two Fridays of the month, it’ll be the first and third Fridays of the month. See, I knew he wouldn’t be telling me to report just once a month anytime soon. He never will, either. In this state, I’m no better than a murderer.

At least he’s not bugging me here at home as much. Oh, how I wish those freeloaders would come and see me here! But they’re gutless wimps cowering behind the law. I don’t know, though, people like them, who think they’re invincible tend to get stupid. Stupidly brave. Maybe they will come and see me someday. I hope they do, but they damn well better be prepared to die for it! The question is, though, would they have the balls to face me directly, or would they just shoot at the house or try to burn it, then turn around and run? My only fear is that they’d probably be more likely to do shit to the house than to me. Maybe the black bitch is afraid of me like she was playing to be. She should be. I mean, technically, after all she’s put me and my husband through, she has every reason to fear me. Initially, she and her people weren’t afraid of me, but once they finally got a reaction, they probably did get a little scared after all. Maybe they’ll think the next time they pick on some other white neighbor.

At the same time, I fear they won’t “legally” go away. They know they can fuck me over through the law and get away with it. They’ve fucked me over and have gotten away with it for years, so I worry about that going to their heads. I really do. Some people just never stop. Enough is never enough, and I know obsession when I see it. Helen kept saying they don’t think of me, but I disagree. I think they think of me nearly every single day of their sorry lives. It used to be to think of how they could harass me noise-wise, but now it’s how they can use and abuse the law against me. I just hope I have an airtight alibi if and when they ever strike again because if they use the law and refuse to fight fair by directly facing me, there’s no way I stand a chance of beating them. I’m too white and too childless. I don’t have any pig friends, either. Vengeful, angry, bitter friends, hiding behind a label that says, “biased crimes.” All that black pig was out to do was “get even with whites.”

Again, I think of karma and all that, but again I truly believe that different people have different rules and standards set upon them by God. Just because I have to pay dearly for the smallest fuck-up, does not mean others have to as well. What have these freeloaders lost on account of me? A dog? Him living in that house with her? Wow! That’s an awful lot compared to what we lost now, isn’t it? Such poor, poor freeloaders. I know she didn’t lose the house on account of us. We would’ve heard about it if they did. The only thing that surprises me is why they moved out so quietly and civilizedly. If they were moving with nothing more to lose, why didn’t they blast us the fuck out? The stereo had to be broken. It had to be.

They say it’s therapeutic to write your thoughts and feelings down and all that, but I don’t know if I like this writing about the freeloaders almost as extensively as I used to when I lived with them, so I’m going to tune them out now. My freeloader ventilation spree is over for today.

When we came back, I noticed right away that the house smells much better now that there are no GPs here. If I ever get another one, I think it won’t be before the next 20 years.

Tom’s organizing his office now, so he tells me. Oh, I don’t want to hear it! So he organizes some of it, then gives up on it. Or he organizes it all, then trashes it a week later. Big deal.

I miss my Teddy Bear. I want my Teddy Bear. Oh, bear, how I came to love you so!

Little Buddy’s been really demanding attention lately. He sure does love to run around the house! He loves it when I share my treats with him, too. He licks my ice cream off of a knife.

The mice were cute earlier, sliding down tubes like little furry firemen.

Tom downloaded me this fingerspelling screen saver that spells words (musical instruments) but the thing that lets you create your own word list is disabled because we have the freeware version.

I wish I could get a sign language dictionary. That’d be so cool to have just like I have English and Spanish dictionaries.

Tom didn’t go to the PO Box during his vacation because it’s not worth spending the gas money to drive that far, so when he goes on Monday, I hope there’ll be something from Mary. And hopefully, she’ll have something to report to me about Teddy Bear. I wonder just how true it is about my theory about her going away along with me, so to speak. If I understood Mary, she hasn’t worked there as much since I left. Palma hasn’t worked there at all. I wish I could see her, if only for a second. Just steal a quick, secret peek at her to see what she looks like nowadays. I’d still love her, but I hope she hasn’t cut her hair off and decided to go short.

I feel like there’s something I’m forgetting to write about, but if I am, I haven’t remembered it yet. Therefore, I’ll just say that if I’m truly meant to lose this weight and keep it off for once, now’s the time I’ll do it. With the diet plan I’ll be on, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t lose 10-20 pounds unless I really do have a hell of a mental block about losing weight because of how I ended up gaining it back the last two times I lost weight. I’m starting it on Sunday. I’m starting with 1100 calories and I’m even cutting out gum. I’ll have two big 400-calorie servings of potatoes, a 180-calorie serving of roast beef, and a 120-calorie serving of corned beef. Next week I’ll drop down to 1040 calories because by then both meat servings will be corned beef only. And of course, I’ll be exercising, too.

I wrote much more than I meant to and am used to doing these days, and no, I haven’t started my autobiography yet. I will sooner or later, though. First I’m finishing up proofing Teddy Bear’s copy of the jail journal, then I’m going to hear it read back to me by the reader, then that’ll wrap up the Estrella saga.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 2001 I finally began what should’ve been done a year ago, and together, Tom and I picked up scattered bits and pieces of junk throughout the land. I didn’t realize just how much trash there was in the front wash way up near the freeloader’s property line. Makes me wonder if it’s their shit. They live like freeloaders, after all, with shit strewn everywhere. Most people out here live like pigs, though. It’s disgusting. But maybe it’s not theirs. Like Tom said, someone obviously gutted an old camper or trailer and that could’ve been anybody. The more I think about it, the more I think that with all the trash they already have on their land, they’d have gutted the thing right there on their own land.

Anyway, Tom’s going to rent or buy a small tractor one of these days to bury the shit and to use for other things.

It’s looking so much better out there now that we’ve picked up most of the junk that was out there and either put it in sheds, burned it or buried it. It’s looking more and more like a home, and whether we end up here 5 years or 20 years, we may as well take care of things and make them look nice. I know most people don’t care about appearances, especially outdoor ones, but I do. It looks so much nicer now when the weather’s nice enough to be out strolling around. The only thing that takes the fun out of strolling around is those damn ants. They’re everywhere!

I just wonder if Tom will keep his word this time around and not retrash the property. He either procrastinates, quits in the middle of projects, or goes and undoes what he did.

It kind of bothered me when he asked me to watch what I say since on a calm day like today, next door could hear us, and I was like - how many times do I have to tell you - I DON’T CARE! I’m sick of his being so neighbor-conscious. We don’t owe these people or anybody else in society shit and I’ll be damned if I’ll live my life worrying about how others might react to something I say. I don’t care. Period. I’ll wear what I want, say what I want, do what I want, and be myself. If others have a problem with it, then that’s their problem. I’m not saying I should have the right to walk out in public stark naked and call every black and Hispanic a name, then shoot them all dead, but I’m me and others are others. I don’t tell society how to be or how to act and nobody’s going to tell me either. Tom didn’t “tell me.” He asked. But still, I’m not going to live my life for neighbors and screen my speech for them. My life doesn’t revolve around them in any way shape or form unless they force their lives upon me like they did in Phoenix. They’re not a part of my business, and as long as they don’t make their business mine, I’m not going to consider them in my speech and plan around them. Hell, I was even forced to plan how I’d rearrange my furniture for neighbors in the city, for Christ’s sake, keeping furniture away from windows as much as I could! Well, no more!

I can’t believe Apple Cheeks still hasn’t shown up, though today’s a possibility. Either way, I’ve got the forced honor of seeing him tomorrow.

Teddy Bear died this morning before Tom got up. It’s too bad, but now it’ll be a bit less smelly and less expensive too, food and bedding-wise.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

THIS is what I mean about my tech not working right most of the time:

The farmer is supposed to text me before he sprays the fields. He is very good about doing it now, and lets me know at least a few hours in advance.

Yesterday I’d gone to the woods to call Mom, and lingered a bit. On my way back I could swear I heard the sound of a tractor and smell some of the spray (herbicides at this point) in the air.

As I crossed the field I checked my phone, wondering if I had missed a warning. There was nothing. So I assumed I was just imagining it. The tractor sound might just be something out of cacophony from the highway and Mini Mart. Maybe the breeze was just blowing smells from that way too that I was imaging was spray.

My throat started to close up and hurt. I was coughing. My breathing wasn’t great. But earlier I’d inhaled a bug in the woods. I’d coughed it up and seemed fine at the time, but maybe that was the cause anyway.

Today, at noon, a text message suddenly appeared on my phone. It was the farmer, saying he was going to spray the fields “this afternoon”.

Except it wasn’t. It was YESTERDAY afternoon. The text message had taken a full 24hrs to show up on my phone!!!!!

I constantly tell people not to take it personally if I don’t reply to messages quickly, but they always seem to think it is a cop out. But see, this was a text I wanted, and desperately needed to see, that I was even checking for. If I can’t get a text that my life **might depend on in a timely fashion, why do you still expect me to get your “Just hoping you had a nice Easter” message instantly???

** Don’t lecture me about what they spray on farms. I’ve lived here my whole life, and know full well I need to avoid the stuff. Trouble is, I have no real control over what the farmer (or the highway, railroad, or power companies along their extensive right of ways across the farm) sprays.

I have very bad, damaged lungs that would react even if this stuff were completely harmless. And believe me, I know it ain’t completely harmless!

Before I got this farmer trained I used to come out of the woods from a walk and find a farmer spraying/had sprayed. Trying to cross the field, breathing shallow and covering my face would only help a little. With some stuff they sprayed I’d end up feel sick for a couple days.

Obviously this doesn’t even touch on any long term effects of exposures. I simply try not to think about it since I can’t protect myself. Survival is hard enough without spending my time stressing about things I can’t control too.

I actually ended up unfollowing someone just because I was sick to death of hearing them saying how great herbicides are as part of their bashing organics. There are issues with organic farming, both to do with scale/affordability and with the absurd marketing, BUT the various things they spray on fields can be horrible for both health and the environment too. Both are true at once!

Don’t say to me the chemicals are simply great if they aren’t spraying them fifteen feet from your damn house! And don’t say “Just move” if you aren’t living in poverty. I’m VERY lucky to have this family land to live on. Easy to say things about living on a farm when you live in a city/suburbs and have plenty of money! “Let them eat cake!” and all that…

At least I made it clear to this farmer NO spraying from the air. When I was growing up Pop would make sure we were away from farm/home on air spraying days. Have you seen fields that were air sprayed, and watched over the next few days as trees bordering the fields, including in people’s yards, died where the stuff had drifted? I have. At least spraying from a tractor keeps it closer to the target with less chance to drift!

(Sorry for the rant. I just HATE feeling trapped here, with no control of how I’m being poisoned! And EVERYONE seems to like to spray some poisons, even people in their yards for “weeds” and their buildings for “bugs”. I feel like the world considers me no more important than a cockroach as I wheeze and puke from it all.)

(Sorry again. I can’t go to the woods to walk off my feelings, ‘cause of those fields in between, and it’s got me in an angry mood!)

[teenandbeyond]

Hello! I was wondering if you could an angsty one. A Gohan x Baby Reader where the reader is sick (with the flu or Kawasaki's disease). Gohan watches them while he does some research/work. But don't worry, Gohan's sweet pea gets better!

Gohan x Baby. Reader [Pt.4]

This is a cute idea, I hope I keep its cuteness!

Want more from me? MaStErLiSt 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

The Sick Sweet Pea (DBS or Dragonball Super)

Warning(s): Fluff?

Being sick sucks, especially when Papa wants to keep feeding you that nasty medicine.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“It’s just the flu, so nothing major to worry about.”

Mama and Papa sighed in relief.

“I guess we freaked out for nothing, then…It’s just the first time [Name]’s ever been sick,” Mama played with your hair aimlessly.

“Well, I’d still suggest taking precautions, [Name] is still young, it could be a little tough to get through compared to a more developed body,” the Doctor, the man was called, advised.

“Yeah, that’s true...I’m guessing medicine will be prescribed?” Papa assumed.

“Yes, I’ll get on that. And prepare to have to watch over them for the duration of this, which shouldn’t be long.”

Another sigh from Mama, “But I have a business trip tomorrow…I’ll have to cancel.”

“Videl that trip could make or break your promotion, canceling like that…”

“Well, what other option do we have? Piccolo is unavailable since he’ll be in deep meditation for the week. And Goku, no offense, wouldn’t be the best for [Name] while sick.”

“I could stay home.”

“Gohan, you have work, too!”

“I know, I know…But I should still be able to work from home for a few days. And I want to make sure my little Sweet Pea is taken care of.”

You wiped at your nose with an arm, sniffing away.

“Wait, [Name], don’t do that, sweetheart,” Mama gently grabbed your arm, wiping it with a tissue.

“How would you like to spend a few days with me, Sweet Pea?”

“Yay!” you cheered, only to whine when a sneeze interrupts you.

“So, then it’s settled. I’ll call work, and watch over [Name],” he finalized.

“Fine…if you say so.”

The next afternoon, Papa scribbled something onto paper, you could only make out a letter or two so you didn’t bother to see what it said from your crib.

You let out a tired sigh, curling into your sheet.

“How’re you feeling over there, [Name]?”

You met his eyes as best you could with your heavy lids, “Bleh.”

He chuckled, “That’s fair. Should be about time for your medicine—”

“No.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Your lips curled in displeasure, “Yes, is.”

“Well, you want to get better, don’t you?” He reached for the bottle next to his laptop.

“Eh.”

He pouted, “Come on, Sweet Pea, I want you to get better…you’re going to let cough syrup get in the way?”

You slowly nod, “Nasty.”

“Well, I’m sorry. You’re going to have to take it anyway, this is the only thing you can take being so little.”

To his surprise, you put up a fight.

You screamed, tugging on his hair, kicking at his face.

“Hey! Calm down!” though your attacks seemed useless, he hardly faltered and ate your hits.

“No! No berry!”

“But you like this kind of berry, that’s why they got it for you.”

There were a few fights like this, then you went from fighting to crying, which broke his heart since it was such a rarity.

“Papa!” you wailed, reaching for him.

“Oh, Sweet Pea…” he grabbed you up, setting you on his leg as he gently rocked you.

You leaned into him, watching as he worked.

“You’re really burning up, huh? Make sure to drink up that water, okay?”

Every few minutes you would sip from your cup, occasionally he would remind you if you zoned out.

You were very miserable the first few days, Pan would help when she could, and Mama would always call.

And then, finally, you woke up one morning feeling energized…well more than you had the past few days.

You called for Papa, who had fallen asleep at the desk. His eyes fluttered open adjusting to being awake.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Happy!”

He smiled, stretching out his arms, “You look better, that’s good!”

“Yes!”

“I’ll see how it plays out today, just to make sure…Hm…What do you think about some fresh air?”

[aethes-bookshelf]

a bouquet of wilting roses || cloud strife/reader

I’ve returned! A lot of you have been asking for a part 2 to ‘a bouquet just for you’, so I’ve come to deliver :) I hope you’ll enjoy!

part 1

Pairing: Cloud Strife/Reader

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, character death, hanahaki

Word count: 1.7k

ao3 link

In Cloud’s hand was a small, black journal. There was nothing on its cover; no stickers, no notes, no drawings. Nothing. A blank, black space.

He found it under his late friend's pillow. Or, well, Tifa did while going through their things after their funeral. Heavens above, the funeral. Cloud had never seen any of his friends cry so much; truth be told, he, too, left the grave puffy-eyed and red in the face. But how could he not? They’ve all been through so much together and now one of them was gone. Like they were never there in the first place. None of them would say it out loud, but each time they hung out these days, there was this deep, dark hole next to them, in a spot that was once occupied but now sat vacant.

If you don’t talk about it, it’ll be like it’s not there, right?

Cloud’s been building up to actually reading the journal for weeks now. Tifa didn’t even want to touch it; she said that if she read about their late friend’s thoughts and feelings it’d just open up the wound again. ‘Maybe in the future’, she said, ‘but now I wouldn’t be able to take it.’ Cloud understood, he really did. But some part of him must’ve thought that reading the journal would be the right thing to do. A way of honoring his friend’s memory one last time.

So he finally opened it.

1 Hey, journal! Is this a stupid thing to say? I don’t really know, to be honest.

I’m starting this journal to document my illness. Kind of like a dumping ground for my emotions. It’s not like I can share them anywhere else anyway.

I got my diagnosis yesterday. I mean, I knew what it was since the very beginning, but it’s always good to have a professional’s opinion, I suppose. I don’t really know how much time I have left, but I know I’m dying, so there’s that. I’ll have to burn that journal before I go, though. Don’t want anybody reading it.

That might’ve been the moment when Cloud should’ve stopped reading, put the journal away or burned it, just like they wanted to. He should’ve. But he didn’t.

* * *

2 I saw them together today. Tifa and Cloud, I mean. It’s a given, really, the entire gang was hanging out together, so of course they’d be there too. It gave me a really bad cough attack though. Had to spend a good ten minutes in the bathroom to cough up all the petals. I hope none of them swam back up the toilet. That’d be bad.

3 Why me, though? People fall in unrequited love all the time and most of them don’t get sick! So why me? Is it genetic? Or maybe just some bitch-ass god looked down upon all of creation and said, ‘Fuck you in particular’?

Honestly, this would be funny if I wasn’t actively dying. But oh well.

5 I saw the doctor today. He kept talking about the different surgeries the entire time I was in his office. I thought I’ve told him already that I don’t want the surgery. I don’t want to forget him. No matter what.

Must be the love in me talking. If I was in a sane state of mind, I’d probably take the offer in a heartbeat. Life for a bunch of memories? Sounds like a fair deal, sign me up! But I’m not in a sane state of mind, so it’s a no, I’m afraid.

8 I’m pretty sure I felt the flowers move inside my lungs today. It feels really fucking weird; and it hurts like hell! That’s to be expected though. My fault for not taking the chance on the surgery.

Did I mention that the longer you wait to get the treatment, the higher the chance of complications and death? I wonder if I’ve passed that mark already.

11 My chest really hurts today. And I haven’t even seen Cloud at all. Is it the roots or the thorns? I mean, the flowers are roses, so who knows, really.

I seem awfully calm about all this when I’m writing. I suppose I should be more emotional about this whole ordeal, but I’ve nearly died quite a few times already, so no wonder something has come to finally do me in. Flowers, though? I still think that’s a lame way to go. I’d prefer an explosion or a crazy duel with some jacked up dude with a big sword. But no, I get flowers. Ridiculous, really.

15 I couldn’t really get out of bed today. I’ve been hacking up petal after petal; I’m pretty sure that my entire bedroom is filled with them at this point.

It’s getting harder to breathe. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night ‘cause of the flowers. And I can’t really get comfortable at all, because no matter how or where I lay down, I’m either pressing down on a thorn or squeezing a rooted-up part of my chest. (I can tell them apart now — the thorns are more like getting stabbed with a thick needle and the roots are kind of like pinching.)

19 I can’t really move anymore. Aerith visited today and said I looked like death. Probably an accurate description. I wouldn’t know though; I make sure not to look in the mirror anymore. I’m scared of what I’ll see. If I really do look that bad, it’ll be hard to deny the truth anymore. That I really am dying.

21 I caught my reflection in a spoon today. Aerith brought me some soup (bless her, really).

The whole reflection thing was an accident, but it still scared me half to death. I’ve never seen my face so hollow. It’s a good thing my parents are gone now; I wouldn’t want them to see me like this.

25 I’ve been wondering lately — do the roots break through your lungs and grow into other parts of your body, too? ‘Cause I’ve been having a hard time stomaching food lately. No matter what I eat, I can’t keep it down. Even water is a challenge.

27 Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen Cloud in a while. Probably since one of the first entries, really. I wonder why he won’t come see me. Does he find me disgusting now that I’m this sick? Or is he scared to see me waste away? I’d prefer the latter, to be honest. The thought that he finds me repulsive hurts — maybe even literally.

Should I stop thinking about him altogether? Would that make me at least a little bit healthier? I’m not sure I want to stop. Not really, anyway.

I wish I could see him again before I go. Or meet up with the whole gang one last time. That’d be fun.

Ah, I’m crying. I should probably stop, I don't want to smear the ink.

31 I’ll probably burn this journal soon. Tomorrow, or the day after. I don’t think I have long.

I wonder what happens after death. Do we go somewhere or do we just disappear? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

32 I always wanted to get a pet. A puppy or a cute cat. I could take them on walks and cuddle them when I’m sad. It’s nice to dream, isn’t it?

* * *

Cloud closed the journal. He wished he could say he finished it all in one sitting, but some parts were harder to go through then others. Still, the sight of blank pages following the last entry made something inside him twist and squeeze in that particularly painful way.

So it was all his fault, huh? He should’ve realized, should’ve done something to help. If they told him, he’d have made them get the surgery done. Even if they forgot him, they could just start all over. Become friends again.

But they didn’t tell them, did they?

The entries made him realize that he really had been avoiding them — always making excuses. A job there, an errand here and before he knew it, he stopped seeing them at all. But the fact that they started to think he found them disgusting hurt. He wished he could tell them they were so very wrong. He’d always been the avoidant type, an expert at running away when things started to hurt. And seeing one of your best friends slowly waste away and die hurt more than anything. He’d already lost one friend a long time ago. Now, another left too soon.

It always was too soon, no matter when they went.

As he moved to put away the journal, a small piece of paper fell out from between the empty pages.

‘If any of you find this — which means I probably didn’t have enough time to burn it properly — don’t read it. And if you don’t listen, or don’t know better before you do read it — don’t blame yourselves. It was my decision and my consequences. I didn’t want to forget any of the wonderful memories we shared together.

But if you do find this, I have just one last request to make of you. Burn it. Don’t let anyone else read what I’ve written. I know it’s probably a lot to ask, because you’ll have to carry the secret on your own, but I trust you.

And to whoever finds this — thank you, my friend.’

Cloud stared at the piece of paper. One by one, tears started falling, dripping all over the writing, smearing the ink. He was glad Tifa was at the bar on this particular evening. She’d ask questions and he’d have to answer them all. He couldn’t lie to her, not really.

Besides — right now, he had a promise to fulfill.

He’d really honor his late friend for the last time.

He took the journal and a box of matches and got on his bike. He drove for quite some time, looking for the perfect spot. When he finally found it, he set the journal on the ground and covered it in dry branches.

The flames burned bright, taking the truth with them. But the truth that remained inside Cloud would burn him with the flames of guilt for a long, long time.

[literallyjusttoa]

Personal Entry #2

I met with Artemis today, and it was great. The first thing is she asked me to meet her! Usually I’m the one randomly dropping in on her hunts for some quality twin bonding time, so this was quite the change of pace. Plus, we met up in the Daintree Rainforest, and that place is absolutely gorgeous. So already, we’re off to a great start. 

Then, Artemis actually asked me to recite some poetry! I never thought I'd see the day. I haven’t written anything in a while (sue me, I’m detoxing after the trials) so I just stuck to my haikus from my time as a mortal. I don’t think she really appreciated the poems, but she sat through my retellings, which is more than I ever usually get from her, or anyone else in the family for that matter. 

And then, and then, she asks me how the music industry is doing. At this point, she’s becoming a bit suspicious. I don’t think Artemis has shown this much interest in my arts since we were very small children. But never let it be said that I am not always willing to gossip about the newest songwriter scandal. There’s a reason the Muses and I can spend hours speaking in the Olympian gardens. So I got going about the newest hit single that totally wasn’t about the singer’s last ex, and didn’t even realize I was falling into my sister’s sneaky trap. You’d think after 4,000 years of having a twin I would recognize the scheming, but I guess my time away as a mortal has dulled my perception. 

So about fifteen minutes into my tirade (I know, I know, I talk a lot, but I get carried away with music drama alright! The stories are so interesting!) Artemis interrupts and starts to steer the conversation somewhere else. Did all of this happen while you were mortal? She wonders. You would’ve been in Camp Jupiter around then, right? She mentions. Are you adjusting well back in Olympus? She straight up asks, apparently sick of me dodging and weaving around her attempts at subtlety. 

And listen, I know my sister. I know she doesn’t like to just ask people what’s wrong, and I know she knows I would never answer that question anyways. Artemis and I differ in many ways, but we both have a strong aversion to that kind of vulnerability. So I know when she asks “Are you adjusting well” she means I’m worried about you. And I appreciate that, I really do! But I can’t deal with someone worrying about me right now.

My sister’s worry feels like someone peeking over my shoulder while I'm trying to complete a brain surgery (I’ve done this before, BAD IDEA) . She means well, but it’s just extra pressure. It makes part of me want to flee like a startled deer. And that’s what I ended up doing. I blurted out some lame response about being perfectly fine in Olympus and OMG I actually forgot I have a meeting with the Muses I need to get to so sorry about that bye! It was honestly embarrassing, and I know Artemis knows that I was being a big fat liar. I can never fool Artemis, she’s known me for far too long. The people who talk about the mortifying ordeal of being known all definitely have twins. 

It was a mess. I’m a mess, and I hate the idea of my sister seeing that. She deserves better than my melodrama.

You know what, I’ll deal with it later. I need to talk to the Muses so that I’ll have at least a semi-believable alibi for Artemis. And maybe I can set up something to keep her away for a bit longer.

I know what you’re thinking, non-existent readers: Apollo how could you! She’s your twin! And I know, I know okay! But I just need some time to get myself together. Hopefully next time we speak, I can tell Artemis everything’s fine on Olympus and actually mean it.