#but when I tell them they should buy some furniture and decor they are very opposed

[datamodel-of-disaster]

One of the things that never fails to baffle me is how many people genuinely don’t care about the space they live in.

People who paint their own house landlord white all over in preparation for when they might want to sell -even if they have no such intention in the near-ish future.

People who move to a foreign country as an expat and then live in a quasi-empty flat until they leave again (years later!), because they imagine it would be a hassle to move if they own stuff.

People who go to IKEA when they get a place of their own, fill their apartment with all the typical utilitarian stopgap stuff, and somehow never acquire “nicer” or more personally curated items down the line no matter how financially comfortable they get.

…

Idk.

I just… don’t understand it.

It’s not about money. Like, I have seen literal homeless encampments, squat houses and cardboard box shelters, that looked like the person who used them cared about the space.

It’s not about minimalism. Minimalism is a stylistic choice. Owning only a desk, a desk chair and a bed and using the cardboard boxes those came in as a kitchen table is NOT a stylistic choice.

I don’t know, and it makes me weirdly uncomfortable? There’s plenty of forms of design and decor that do nothing for me (or that I think are hideous), and those are still different to this strange absence of care for one’s space.

[1d1195]

Honey II

Read Honey here | ~6.2k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, pining, maybe a daddy-kink if you don't blink. There's a shitty guy, some jealous Harry (from said shitty guy as well as NIALL 😍) and some mentions of self-care 😉

Summary: You cannot flirt with my nanny. He texted Niall while Cece ate.

Someone should, Harry. By all means YOU should. But I’ll handle it if you cannot.

Harry scowled and threw his phone aside. “Sorry m’gonna kill Uncle Niall, Cece,” he told her. “But he’s stupid.”

The routine became easy. Breakfast with Harry, tummy time with Cece, cleaning during naptime, laundry at lunch time. At eleven in the morning, she sent Harry three pictures of his baby regardless of what she was doing which he didn’t respond to other than reacting with a heart to each of the pictures.

Cece loved Miss Honey. Her smile was bright when she saw her and her giggle was coming easier and easier while she played with her.

Niall is stopping by to grab something I left. He was already out. You can let him in.

Okay, thank you for the heads up.

Other than delivery drivers, people didn’t really come by. She hadn’t had friends over not that she necessarily wanted to have them over... not after her first family. From then, it was always kind of weird to have people visit someone else’s home to hang out with her. She preferred dinners or going to their houses. If Harry were to throw a party or cookout at his extravagant pool, she would invite her friends—at least that’s what she did with her previous family—but Harry didn’t seem much like a party-thrower.

“Hello?” The Irish voice sang into the house. “Miss Cece, where are you?” He called.

She smiled and brought the baby toward the front door holding her in front of her stomach. Cece giggled at the sight of Uncle Niall. “Who’s that, Cece?” She asked pressing her lips on to the top of her soft hair. “Is that Uncle Niall? Did Uncle Niall come to see you?” She kicked her feet and Niall looked like he was melting as he took her from Miss Honey. “Is it this folder?” She asked. “I found it in the garage,” she said. “It must have slipped out of his bag. When I took Cece to the store, I was going to swing by myself."

Niall was in awe. The house was clean—to be fair, it almost always was, but it was different now. Plus it smelled like the citrusy fall candle she was burning on the counter; only adding to the fresh clean feeling of his friend’s place. Whatever was cooking in the oven smelled delicious. “Do you... cook for him?” Niall asked.

She blushed. “Well, it’s mainly for me, but obviously there aren’t a ton of recipes for one person, so I always have extra,” she rationalized. “I cooked for my old family.”

Niall bounced Cece as he looked around. There was a throw blanket on the sofa adorned with leaves and it’s fall y’all patterned across it. that wasn’t there before. Along with some fall pillows. It matched the little pumpkins on the side tables and the leaf and flower centerpiece on the coffee table. Harry had decorations? “Did Harry buy those throw pillows?”

“I... I have this tendency to fall asleep on the sofa watching movies and wanted something softer than the sofa arm,” she felt weird explaining all this to Niall. “I should probably get them out of here and back in my room. Did Harry say something? He doesn’t like it?”

Harry hadn’t mentioned it. Which was insane because when Cece’s mom wanted all new living room furniture in the middle of her pregnancy, Niall wasn’t sure Harry was going to let her live at his house after all. Harry was very particular and liked things to be his way. “No, no. He’s fine. It just looks...cozy,” he said. “It’s nice he’s got a woman’s touch that he likes,” Niall said encouragingly.

Her phone vibrated on the counter and she glanced at her watch reading the message. Can you tell Niall to let go of my daughter and get his ass back here before I fire him?

She smiled sending a thumbs up in response. “I believe you’re going to be fired.”

“What a drama queen,” Niall muttered. “I love you more than Dada does,” he cooed and kissed Cece sweetly on the cheek. “You should decorate the outside, too,” Niall said as he handed the baby back to her. “Harry would like it,” he smiled. “If you have a ton of leftovers, send them for lunch with Harry tomorrow. With the way it smells, I bet it would taste delicious reheated as well... Bye Cece!” He waved and blew a kiss at her.

“Say bye Uncle Niall,” she cooed shaking her head at Harry’s best friend.  She waved Cece’s hand for her. “Bye Uncle Niall.”

*

His office door slapped open against the wall, and he looked up from his desk even though he didn’t need to.

“Niall’s here,” his secretary called. He rolled his eyes.

“You love her,” Niall gushed.

“I do not,” Harry scowled defensively at his paperwork in front of him. “Love who?”

“Your nanny obviously.”

“I absolutely do not,” he shook his head. “I am not in love with someone I employ.”

“So we’re not in love either?” Niall frowned.

“Do you have something you need, Mr. Horan?” Harry deadpanned.

Niall rolled his eyes. “Harry, she’s sweet, funny, and intelligent,” he listed. “Not to mention your house has never looked cleaner nor cozier and she can cook.”

Harry used to order out each night since he was too tired to cook when he got home. Then with Cece, it made even more sense. But now, since he was very much glued to his schedule of coming home on time for dinner so he could see Cece before bed and relieve Miss Honey of her duties for the evening.

He hadn’t anticipated her making dinner for him. In fact, he hadn’t anticipated much of anything she did for him. He thought taking care of Cece was going to be it. The cleaning and cooking was beyond what he expected.

He ignored Niall.

“And hello? She’s good with Cece.”

She was great with Cece actually. But he wasn’t going to give into Niall’s teasing. He continued looking at his computer screen ignoring all the reasons Harry thought she was perfect as well but had to ignore because he would rather die than ruin what he had with her for the sake of his daughter. There was no one better to trust Cece with—even after a month or so of her working, it was obvious. He was so sure there wasn’t anyone better. “Also, she was going in the pool when I got there, so she was in this itty, bitty bikini—” Harry’s gaze snapped to Niall and his eye twitched as he scowled again. “I was joking, but I think I’ve proven my point.”

“I’m not in love,” he grumbled. Harry didn’t love anyone beyond his baby girl, his company, and his family.

“Say it all you want. But I’m not the one that got his underwear in a twist over the thought of seeing her in a bikini when it’s not summer anymore." Harry ignored him still. "You let her decorate," he reminded him.

"We have similar tastes," Harry mumbled not wanting to let on that he didn't give two shits if the house was decorated but when he came home from work watching her sip hot apple cider on his sofa and reading a book to Cece, he wanted to move to a place where it was fall all year round.

"Are you going to let her decorate the outside of your house for Halloween?”

He was not in love. “It’s a holiday,” he reminded Niall. “I want Cece t'have a—”

“Uh-huh. Sure. It’s definitely for Cece... by the way, make sure I get the leftovers from dinner tomorrow. I already asked Miss Honey,” he said. “Here’s your folder,” he laid it on his desk and left with a wave and mischievous smile. "She found it in the garage and was going to swing by herself. Because in case you haven't noticed, she's perfect."

If there were leftovers of whatever delicious thing she had decided to cook, Harry was going to throw them in the middle of the road on his way to work just to spite him.

*

The weekend was unfortunately eventful.

Cece fussed a ton. Harry sighed when the monitor alerted him to her waking. He got up and headed to her crib where he spent several minutes rubbing her little belly as he watched her. “Y’need t’sleep, Miss Cecelia,” he smiled at her tiredly. It was nearly one in the morning, and he had been fortunate enough to have Cece sleeping soundly overall for the last couple months. But for whatever reason, her little cries woke him up today.

He checked his phone and noted there was an alert from the front door camera. He saw two people standing under the entrance. His favorite nanny and a man that he didn’t recognize.

Given the situation, this was suddenly and very much her house as much as Harry's. As evident by the pumpkin décor on the steps visible in the video as well. So she could do what she wanted. Even if that meant going on a date.

Even if that meant Harry was painfully aware of how upset that made him.

Her arms were wrapped around her stomach and Harry felt something painful ache in his stomach. She looked completely uncomfortable. The guy leaned closer toward her, forcing her to step back until she was against the side of the entryway. Harry’s blood boiled. She pressed a hand against his chest, maintaining distance between them. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the screen and briefly noted he forgot about Cece’s waking. But Cece was asleep again. Therefore, Harry was able to worry about the other woman that lived in his house. He quickly sent her a text before he kept his eyes glued to the camera. If this was some kind of flirting thing, fine. He would confront the boiling jealousy in the comfort of his own bed. But Harry had a sister, female friends, female employees and now a daughter. He knew when someone was uncomfortable.

The camera signaled someone was outside, so I checked the feed... Are you okay?

He didn't want to listen in. There was a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross. Fortunately, she pulled her phone from her pocket and read the message--clearly looking for a distraction and further fueling his worry. Without answering, she tucked her phone back in her pocket and Harry thought that he was overreacting. She was fine. He just needed to go to bed.

But then, she shook her head repeatedly, slowly.

Harry dropped his phone on Cece’s floor where it landed on the rug with a quiet thud. He took off downstairs nearly missing the last step before he was at the front door, yanking it out of the way blindingly fast. She jumped at the sudden movement in the middle of the night—even though she only saw Harry’s message seconds before. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he lied. He was very grateful to interrupt. “Cece has been awake, and I’ve tried—”

“No problem,” she rushed out not even glancing at the man. She brushed passed Harry hurriedly.

The guy blinked in surprise at her quick departure. He tried to peek behind Harry’s frame that blocked most of his view. “I’ll call—”

Harry smacked the door shut and waited for him to leave—watched him walk to the end of the driveway where he waited for an Uber for three minutes. She sighed, putting her hands on the back of her head, breathing heavily. “Harry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She began pacing behind him, but Harry’s eyes didn’t move from the end of his driveway. “He was completely fine and then I needed to Uber and—”

“I told you not t’Uber,” he scowled at the window beside the door waiting for the man to disappear.

“Well, it was one in the morning, and I don’t know how your driver situation works—”

“Then you call me,” his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be. The thought of something happening to her hurt. Hurt a lot.

She ignored him, feeling guilty but trying to explain her side of things. “My friend had left with a guy she met, and she was my ride. I didn’t even know she left,” her voice cracked. “I Uber all the time, Harry. Alone at night, I don’t care...it’s... whatever... But he was insistent. He wanted to make sure I made it home safely. Which didn’t set off any alarm bells and I pride myself on having a good gauge of that kind of thing. So, I didn’t think anything of it. I thought he was just being a gentleman. When he got out of the car and the driver took off...” she shook her head. “I’m just so sorry. I didn’t know—” Her voice cracked again, harsher this time. Then she pressed her lips into a line as she looked down. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered trying to force the tears to stay behind her lids.

The man was gone from the edge of his driveway. Harry shook his head confused how she could be apologizing for literally nothing. She didn’t do anything wrong. “What are y’apologizing for?”

“For him coming back here! I don’t bring people back to the house I’m living in for free. I would never want to put someone like that within a three-mile radius of Cece. I was just trying to get him to leave and I—” her voice choked off again.

“Love,” he said gently. “S’okay,” he promised reassuringly. “Y’can invite friends over. I wouldn’t really want him, but it sounds like we’re on the same page.”

She sniffled, breaking Harry’s heart. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

“Did he hurt you?” Harry asked. She shook her head. “I need a verbal answer, love.”

“No, he didn’t hurt me,” she whispered. Barely loud enough for him to hear.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded. “I was just trying to think of a way to get inside without him following me,” she whimpered. “He just wouldn’t shut up about how nice it would be to...” her tears started to flow. She shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.

Harry didn’t think. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed up and down her back. “S’okay,” he promised. “You’re okay,” he repeated. “You could have banged on the door or something,” he assured her.

She sniffled. “I didn’t want to wake the baby.”

He smiled softly. Of course she didn’t. “Please call the driver next time. Day or night. I should’ve told y’that,” he murmured. “It would make me feel better. And he’ll only let y’have someone else in the car with you if y’say so,” he promised.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“You’re allowed t’have a life here, love,” he promised. “Friends, dates, whatever y’want.”

“Well, I’m not dating for a while,” that was fine by Harry. Gently, she pulled from Harry’s embrace, and he felt completely cold. It wasn’t from his lack of clothes either.

She wiped her eyes. “Do y’want me to...get y’anything?” He asked.

She shook her head of the thought. “No, I’m sorry to have interrupted your sleep—”

“Don’t be. But y’didn’t. Cece was up, I was checking on her when I saw m’phone’s notification,” he explained. “But even if she wasn’t up... I wouldn’t have minded,” he promised. “Really.”

Her eyes trailed over Harry’s body. It hadn’t occurred to her that he was wearing nothing but boxers. His shoulders were broad, his arms were taut with lean muscles that didn’t bulge massively but were still beautifully sculpted. His hair was in disarray, probably from his pillow. His stomach was flat, ridged with muscles, and covered with tattoos. “I didn’t realize you had so many tattoos.”

He smirked. “Yeah, um...guilty pleasure of mine.”

Harry really shouldn’t say pleasure around her. It made her think of things that would give her immense pleasure. Like the boxers that outlined a plump dick (which wasn’t even fully hard it seemed. Jesus Christ, she wondered if she was going to get pregnant just from looking at it) and showed off his muscular thighs. She shook her head trying to keep her eyes focused on anything other than Harry’s groin area. “I um... thank you,” she whispered. “For getting me.”

“Of course, love. Any time,” he promised. “I know y’work for me and I respect your commitment and seriousness t’your job. It’s something I value in m’employees at the office too. But Niall also works with me too and he’s m’best friend and he’s very comfortable asking me t’bail him out of dicey situations. So if y’need something, y’jus’ have t’ask.”

She nodded. “Okay... thank you,” she repeated. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Miss Honey.”

*

Harry was frustrated. It was a busy time of year, so he had been staying an hour, sometimes two later than he was supposed to. He ate reheated food that she had cooked (which was still delicious) but mostly he was upset because he wasn’t getting to see Cece before bed. The pictures she sent in the afternoon and just before bed helped but didn’t make up for the real thing. He missed his daughter.

And honestly? If he was real with himself, he missed eating dinner with the pretty woman that was kind enough to make dinner in the first place. He missed watching an episode of whatever show she liked before she went for a swim in the pool and then to read in her room. Up until Harry had started staying late, she had gone for a swim every night and Harry was in awe. The pool was heated sure, but the air was cold. But she was insistent—all to get her laps in so she could work out. Now, when he got home, she was already in her room. Only coming out to say hello, give the lowdown on bedtime and making sure he knew which food was for Niall the next morning.

It seemed she wasn’t dating, so at least Harry had that. Even though he told her she could, he was glad she wasn't. It wasn’t right or fair of him to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. The few times he saw her out in the pool in a bathing suit (that was not an itty-bitty bikini like Niall had described) he felt possessive. If she had an itty-bitty bikini, Harry thought he might lose his mind--the pretty one piece with a cutout created by a crisscrossing bow around her middle was tantalizing enough. He didn’t let his gaze linger for long (he didn’t want to be creepy) but he thought back to the guy that followed her home and terrified her. No one deserved her kindness. No one deserved to see her vulnerable and alone in anything less than what she wanted. She made Cece feel safe. She made Harry feel safe.

“Why don’t you go home?” Niall suggested. “You’ve been staying late all week, and I know you miss Cece. Take a half day, go spend some time with your daughter. Or even Miss Honey,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Harry shook his head. “I already took a ton of time off—”

“For a very good reason! Harry,” Niall sighed. “You have an adorable baby daughter. She’s only going to be little for so long. You need to enjoy it.”

With that thought, Harry couldn’t get out of his office fast enough. He entered the house using the keycode. It didn’t even faze her. If someone used the code, then she assumed it was someone who was allowed to be there. But also, the sound of the vacuum cleaner was humming and creating more noise than she could have heard with the door opening and closing. But she must have sensed it because she glanced over her shoulder and smiled finishing the spot she was working on. Harry could make out the wrap around her body while she vacuumed. Wearing Cece like a body ornament. It was adorable. “I could hire someone for that, y’know,” he called over the droning noise.

She turned the vacuum off and turned around showing off the little babe at the same time. She kicked her feet. Harry thought his heartstrings were going to snap with how much love flooded him. Someone that loved him so unconditionally. It felt like he didn’t deserve it.

“You’re home early,” she smiled and loosened the wrap around her and pulled the headphones off her little head to keep her ears safe from the vacuum sound. “Is Dada home to play, Cece?” She smiled excitedly. “Is Dada here to play?” She repeated, passing her to Harry. Cece immediately settled into his embrace, making his heart hurt. Niall was right, this was well worth it.

“I was just going to do laundry,” she said. “Do you want anything to eat?” She asked.

“I have people who could do your laundry,” he told her, his lips attached to the crown of Cece’s head. “And y’don’t need t’do my laundry either,” he frowned. “Or Cece’s.”

“Yes, but you are saving money by letting me do it. I’m all about coupons. I’m like a BOGO sale, you know? For a business owner, you don’t see a good deal when presented.”

He rolled his eyes. Niall listed a lot of great qualities about her. But he didn’t list how stubborn she was. Especially when it came to things like using the driver or doing his laundry. Harry wanted to shake her sometimes.

“Niall said you have a business trip next weekend?”

His eyes snapped to meet hers. “You talk to Niall?” Like regularly? Casually?

He was so going to fire him.

“Yes,” she smiled and then laughed to herself, a private joke Harry wasn't privy to.

“What?”

“It’s nothing. Niall’s just funny.”

Harry was going to kill him. Then fire him.

“Oh?”

“He just he tells me he’s going to marry me if I keep making such good food for him to eat.”

So fired.

“Speaking of,” she continued while Harry let that linger in silence. “Little miss needs to eat,” she said. “I can do it if you want—”

“Thank you,” he was sincerely appreciative. “But I have it covered,” he smiled. “You can take the rest of the afternoon to yourself if you’d like.”

She smiled. “That would be great. I just have a few more things to do but I’ve been dying to go to the bookstore. They’re having a sale on all paperbacks,” her eyes glowed.

Harry smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

“Just shout if you need something.”

Harry went to the kitchen, took the bottle that was warmed and ready on the counter (she must have just put it out while she was vacuuming nearby).

You cannot flirt with my nanny. He texted Niall while Cece drank from her bottle.

Someone should, Harry. By all means YOU should. But I’ll handle it if you cannot.

Harry scowled and threw his phone aside at the pretty fall throw pillows. “Sorry m’gonna kill Uncle Niall, Cece,” he told her. “But he’s stupid.”

*

Harry often found himself defaulting to her and all her knowledge. She had a background in psychology, as that was what she studied in college—a concentration in child development. All of which he knew from her application. Harry was well educated, but he would never feign to have more knowledge that he didn’t have.

Which is why when Cece continued to fuss and fuss more than she had since she’d been born, Harry didn’t know what to do.

“Love?” He knocked on the door. It was two in the morning, and she was obviously well off the clock. Harry battled for several minutes trying to decide if it was worth it. He didn't want to bother her, but frankly, he was exhausted. But she answered anyway, hurriedly.

She was wearing a pair of leggings and a blue tank top. One that was thin and made Harry’s stomach ache with desire. Something lower ached with desire too. But fortunately, he had enough foresight to put on a pair of sweats before waking her. She rubbed her eye looking like a toddler coming to their parents’ bedroom. Her hair tie had fallen from her braid letting the strands fall haphazardly out of the twist.

He thought about kissing her. God he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be alone in the middle of the night with her.

Gratefully, Cece called out. Reminding him of why he had woken her up in the first place.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can you check on her? She’s so fussy. I don’t know if m’doing something wrong?” It killed him that the baby was fussing. He hated to wake her almost as much. However, she didn’t even bat an eye to it and hurried to Cece’s room. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Don’t be,” she yawned. “I was... actually reading,” she smiled. “I shouldn’t be, but I can’t put the book down.”

How was that so hot sounding? It shouldn’t have been. He had watched her read on the couch a hundred times. But it was hot. So hot he was glad there was an extra layer to hide how it made him feel.

Harry was glad he was going away for the weekend. He needed to clear his head of the pretty girl that was invading his every thought when he had no right to think of her that way. “Oh yeah, Miss Cece just wants to party, huh, sweet girl?” She smiled and pulled her from the crib and hummed. “Daddy has to work early tomorrow, Cece. can have our own party tomorrow, okay? But Daddy’s got to sleep,” she whispered. “I know you’re a party girl,” she cooed. “But you can’t party when you’re sleepy,” she reminded her.

Harry was not thinking of it like that but the way she said Daddy (twice) made his chest ache with something he wasn’t used to feeling. It probably didn’t help that her tank top did little to hide two hardened, protruding bumps on her chest that made Harry want to lick his lips (and her). He was going to turn the heat up before bed because it must have been chilly.

Harry tried to keep his gaze PG, but she was so pretty, he was thanking himself for the moment of clarity he had that made him put on pants because he wouldn’t be able to hide the way he felt about seeing her sleepy and beautiful.

Fuck Niall and his stupid observations. He is so fired when I get back from my trip.

After a few more hums and coos, Cece fell back to sleep. She kissed her hair and gently laid her back in the crib. “She’s almost four months, of course—she might be hitting a little sleep regression. It’s perfectly normal. I’ll do some research and see what I can do to help alleviate—”

“Thank you,” he felt exhausted. Sleep deprived and sad about leaving—even if it was just for the weekend. “Seriously. Thank you.”

She smiled. “Of course, Harry. That’s what I’m here for. Probably a good time to stop my book too,” she reached out and squeezed his arm. “Get some sleep. I’ll have breakfast in the morning before you fly out,” she promised.

“I didn't mean t'interrupt your book,” he said softly. “Y'don’t have t'get up earlier, she can lay in bed for a bit,” he offered.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’ll just nap when she naps,” she shrugged. "Cece will want to see you before you leave," she smiled so effortlessly. Like Cece would really know if he was gone. But the way she said it made him believe it. She squeezed Harry's forearm. “Goodnight, Harry,” she said sweetly.

*

Harry was staring at Cece like she was going to disappear while he fed her. She gently pushed the cup of tea she made him (with three sugars) in front of him. “I haven’t left her once for this long,” Harry reminded her.

“I know,” she frowned. “She’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“I know.”

“Really, Harry. I won’t let anything happen to her. I love her beyond belief,” she promised.

But Harry felt something creep into his stomach. Something that felt like an overwhelming urge to kiss her. A way that had him aching to make Cece a sibling and he thought that maybe he could shift the real estate in his heart that was reserved for his company and open it for someone else. He shook his head as if a bug had flown in his eye. Ridding himself of the unrealistic thought that was wriggling it's way into ever inch of his mind.

No, he didn’t love her.

That would be ridiculous.

It took her two weeks to figure out what Harry liked to eat for breakfast most. As stubborn as Harry was, she was more so. Every day she made something new: omelets, waffles, French toast, everything he could think of, she tried. But when she told him she was going to make crepes, he stopped her and told her: just scrambled eggs and toast.

So, she made him scrambled eggs, toast, and sliced up some avocado on the side. “Thank you, love. Y'really didn’t need to.”

“I have it on good authority you rarely eat until like two in the afternoon if I don’t feed you,” she smiled. “Happy to help,” she promised. Because that’s what she did. Helped and helped and helped.

“Why don’t y’tell your friend m’going t’fire him if y’don’t stop talking t’him.”

She laughed and Harry enjoyed the sound more than he thought possible. “Niall?! Shouldn’t you fire me?”

He shook his head. “No way, love. You’re the best there is for Cece, you’re stuck here,” he smirked. Her heart fluttered and she realized she hadn’t spoken as Harry glanced at her. He cleared his throat. “I mean... as long as you like it here,” he attempted to recover (poorly).

“I love it here,” she nodded excitedly. That beautiful smile that Harry had honed in on during her interview spread across her beautiful face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you,” he smiled. Genuinely.

It took every ounce of Harry’s shaky control to keep himself from saying he would miss her too, while he was gone. Maybe as much as he would miss Cece.

*

It was only a two-night stay. But the first night was hardest. He called as soon as his last meeting finished. He watched her play with Cece through the video call. When her phone died, it took five minutes for her to get rebooted. She grabbed her laptop to continue the call and set it up on the floor for Harry to see Cece during her tummy time.

Cece didn’t seem to notice much that Harry was on the computer screen. In fact, she didn’t pay much attention to either of them while they chatted at all. Even when Cece fell asleep, he found himself asking her all kinds of questions about school and work. How she decided to become a nanny and the like. He asked about her family and if she missed them. Her family was still hours and hours away from her, so he was confused as to why she wouldn’t move with the previous family she nannied for.

“Truthfully?” She sighed. “I love this coast so much,” she smiled fondly. “I grew up here and I went to school here. I loved my nanny family, but there’s just something about it here,” she explained. “My family kind of... they don't..." she sighed. "They don't visit much and I think they would come up to visit even less if I lived across the country. I adore my family. They mean so much to me. It would have been hard to be even further away from them.”

Harry wanted to hold her and never let go. This woman loved hard. Harder than anyone he knew.

Eventually, when it was so much later than it should have been to be chatting on the phone with someone he was employing to take care of his daughter, without talking about said daughter, Harry said goodnight and got ready for bed. As he brushed his teeth, he opened his text messages.

Niall...

Yes, Harry? It’s eleven and I’m in bed.

... she’s perfect.

Who Cece?

...

No shit, Harry. You’re an idiot.

When Harry closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but think of her.

*

When Harry returned home, he rushed through the door, dropping his bags and hurrying to the living room. Harry was on the floor beside the coffee table where he showered Cece in kisses all over her little face. The only pause he had was looking at the lovely girl giggling on the couch at their reunion. “Ugh, Cece, you’re making me jealous! I wish someone would be that happy to see me when they get home,” she giggled.

But Harry couldn’t let her think that for a moment longer. He crossed the room, pulled the book from her hands and straddled her, locking her in place. He cupped her face before she could question anything and kissed her. Kissed her long and hard. Eventually he nestled his hips between her thighs. “I like you so much. I’m so happy t’see you when I get home,” he groaned peppering her face and skin with more kisses. “I trust you with everything. You have my whole world most of the day. And... when I get home m’so happy t'see Cece. But love, m’thrilled t'see you as well”

“Harry,” she whispered. “She’s right there."

“She's not looking,” his voice was husky as he pulled on the neck of the blue tank top that stared in all his dreams. He tugged it down her chest a bit hoping to see those pretty, hardened—

The phone call waking him up for the day put him nearly in a cold sweat. “Ugh,” he moaned reaching blindly for the nightstand for the phone. He pulled the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He grumbled.

“Hello, Mr. Styles this is your wake-up cal—”

He smacked the phone back into the receiver and begged for the dream to come back before it went away. What was underneath that tank top? He glanced at the clock. If he fucked his hand, he wouldn’t have time to shave. That wasn’t very business owner of him. Or maybe it was. He was CEO, the meetings wouldn’t start without him.

“Fuck it,” he muttered and wrapped his hand around his hard dick. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but he pretended he knew what was hiding beneath the thin tank top of the woman who lived in his house.

*

The weather fucked him royally. He was supposed to be home that evening. Supposed to be eating dinner with his little baby and the pretty nanny. It felt completely unfair that the weather had made it so he would be stuck in a stupid airport, and he would have to go directly to work in the morning.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she promised. “Maybe you can take the day off later in the week,” she suggested. “Actually... I was going to ask you if it was possible for you to do that anyway, so maybe this works out. Or maybe your mom—” He knew she was trying to distract him. Which he was grateful for but he was still so frustrated.

"What do y'need?" He asked, his voice stiff. He didn't mean for it to be. He was just upset.

She cleared her throat. “I just have some appointments I’ve been rescheduling over and over trying to find a day that's best for them. I don’t want to make you take the day off, but I know you’ve been nervous about your trip. I’ve been waiting—”

“Of course,” he said hurriedly. “Which day?”

“Wednesday, if possible. If not I can reschedule again.”

“Sure,” he’d take the whole week off if she asked. Cece time and helping the perfect angel? She didn’t need to say anything else.

“Thank you, Harry," the gratitude in her voice made him ache.

“You’ve worked nonstop for almost two months, love. Y’do more than I ever expected. S’least I could do. Plus, staying home with m’daughter isn’t a bad thing.”

She smiled. “She misses you,” she promised. Harry was pretty sure Cece wouldn’t know if he was away or not; work or overnight stay irrelevant. But it was nice she was saying it for his benefit. “She does, I swear,” she continued, somehow understanding his silence. “Especially at bedtime and when she wakes up. Little Miss doesn’t sleep well without you here,” she cooed. Harry imagined her holding the baby on his couch looking utterly comfortable and natural.

“Well tell her I miss her, love her, and kiss her for me too.”

She pressed a bunch of kisses to her skin loud enough for Harry to hear and that soft little giggle as well. Harry smiled, feeling marginally better about his cancelled flight. “See you tomorrow, love.”

“Can you say, bye bye Daddy,” she whispered. “Come on you can do it,” she encouraged. It was much too early and of course she knew that, but Harry loved that she tried anyway.

He wanted to tell Cece to give her a kiss from him as well.

--

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[pumpkinsy0]

ik u answered this like a month ago i think but do u have any more hcs on papercut moving in together and the gang coming to their apartment or whatever else they move in to

its ok i love them, i do have hcs of em i play w them like theyre my barbies

•as soon as curly realized bc its his house now, he cluld leave the doors open and not get w pony behind closed doors, he PURPOSELY left the doors open, pony however keeps closing it out of habit, its like “baby, wyd??? leave that door open😏😏” “🙎🏻‍♂️”

•for a good while, they were buying used things, like of course they cleaned it, but yknow. sometimes it was online, other times just stuff they found outside w a sign that said “take me”

•it took them a solid month or 3 to FULLY get things together, partially bc they were busy or something along the lines, but also bc they argued on where to put furniture

•ideally speaking, if they were able to, i think it would b obvious that theyre both maximalist, but in different ways, u can tell who added what, VERY quickly, maybe it takes a while for them to rlly decorate the place how they want to, but tbh, wouldnt call it decorate??? more so they just add shit they like and find a place for it, its not like they have a design in mind here

•they dont rlly have any rules for their house, at MOST maybe its to take ur shoes off at the door, but they dont rlly enforce that, they dont care THAT much, just dont make an absolute MESS of the place and ur free to do whatever

•they would get plastic plates and silverware at first, just bc they didnt rlly have ACTUAL appliances, but even when they did get it, they didnt stop using the plastics bc they didnt feel like washing dishes, but at some point they had to stop cause they were wasting money😭

•darry and soda r the guys that goes “maybe u should put up a picture here”, they give sone decorating tips, they let pony take some things from their home to put into his and sometimes they still come over w things pony can have!!! curly aint have much from his house to give tho

•the gang could not LEAVE after they came over, cause like pony man,,,hes left the nest, they rlly growin up💔💔💔, they said theyd leave but then stayed for another hour

•darry and soda would cook for pony and curly, pony CAN cook, but its just that hes not used to cooking DAILY, him, darry, and soda would switch who would do it daily, so pony and curly would b ordering take out or eating junk food for a good chunk of the week

•pony and curly would get very home sick, family means everything to them, and now they dont rlly see them all that often, so they always call home, just ti hear their voice at least and know whats happening back at home, this also means that pony and curly cling to each other more, they remind each other of home!!!

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters in IKEA

The title says it all, really.

1. Adolin & Shallan

Adolin: This place is such a maze!

Shallan: Yeah, it kinda reminds me of my time in the chasms with Kaladin.

Shallan: There could be a chasmfiend made entirely of hex keys around any corner.

Adolin: You’ve already mapped this place in your head, haven’t you?

Shallan: Well, duh. 

2. Kaladin & Teft

Kaladin: Ha, look at the size of this bed! What kind of spoiled lighteyes needs a bed this big??

Teft: Kaladin, lad, that’s a bed for two people...

Kaladin: ...

Kaladin: I knew that. 

3. Sebarial & Palona

Sebarial: Genius, really, setting up all of these fake rooms to make people imagine their homes looking like this.

Sebarial: Makes you want to buy way more than you came in for.

Sebarial: And it all seems cheap, but it sure adds up!

Palona: Mmm...and the pathing really forces you to see everything, no matter what you’re looking for.

Palona: Urithiru is mazelike already--think Dalinar would give you a floor to set up something like this?

Sebarial: Are you SURE you don’t want to marry me?

4. Dalinar & Stormfather

Dalinar: I think it’s good for people to build their own furniture.

Dalinar: I never felt as clear-headed as I did when I dug that latrine that one time.

Stormfather: Bah, this flimsy wood could never stand up to a storm.

Dalinar: Most people keep their furniture inside.

Stormfather: I’m listening and learning here.  

Dalinar: What?

Stormfather: What?

5. Lopen & Rock

Lopen: Now, see, people say the REAL fun is the food!

Rock: Ha! These meatballs are not as good as chouta with fried cremling claws, but they’re still pretty good!

Lopen: Of course! Nothing beats chouta!

6. Wyndle & Lift

Wyndle: Oh, this is SO exciting!

Wyndle: Look at all of these WONDERFUL chairs!

Wyndle: I can’t wait to add some of these to my chair garden!

Lift (dragging her feet): Is this the LAST time I let you pick our activity. 

7. Denth & Tonk Fah

Denth: You know what I hate about being a mercenary?

Denth: People think you have no sense of style.

Denth: And sure, interior decorating isn’t a big part of our life.

Denth: But just look at this pillow I chose and tell me it wouldn’t look great on any modern couch.

Tonk Fah: Hey, that old lady you stabbed to get that pillow seems to be coming around.

Denth: And people NEVER appreciate the lengths we got to to get a good deal!

8. Szeth & Nightblood

Szeth: I like this place.

Szeth: There is no profane stone anywhere, and the seemingly endless maze of empty rooms devoid of all life reminds me of the inside of my own head, only they took out the screams.

Szeth: And some of the plastic fruit is nice.

Nightblood: That’s great but can we get back to my thing now?

Szeth: That sofa wasn’t evil, sword-nimi.

Nightblood: Then why was its name looking at me with those beady eyes?!

Szeth: I think the umlaut is just part of the spelling, sword-nimi.

Nightblood: I think we should destroy it, just in case.

9. Siri & Syl

Siri: Look at this!! A tiny frying pan!

Syl: No, look at this!! It’s a blue stuffed shark!

Siri: Look at how colorful this rug is!

Syl: I don’t even smoke, but this ash tray is shaped like a COW!

Siri: I can’t believe Vivenna and Kal said we “couldn’t be trusted in the marketplace”

Syl: I know! We make such good decisions!

10. Jasnah & Navani & Elhokar 

Jasnah: It is nice of them to include pictogram instructions, so that even men can assemble this furniture. 

Navani: Engineering for men. Very progressive of them. 

Elhokar: How am I supposed to screw in all these screws with just this hex key?! Also, these dowels definitely do NOT fit in this hole! And I am definitely missing some pieces!!

Elhokar (muttering): I bet Kaladin could build this bookcase.

Jasnah: Should we help him?

Navani: Give it five more minutes. 

[queenlua]

30's meme: 1, 11, 45, 52?

1. What was the first piece of furniture you bought?

my *very* first piece of furniture was a futon whose cost i split with three other roommates, freshman year of college. i napped/lounged/homeworked on that futon probably more than anyone else all four years of undergrad, lmao. we got it from a habitat from humanity sale and it was CLUTCH

my first non-cheapo/non-ikea furniture would be the wooden dinner table i split with my husband when we moved in together. it's SO pretty and nice and i love it so much... and he DEFINITELY had to talk me into it because i have no sense of ~*~interior decoration aesthetics~*~ and was like "do we really need this idk it seems too fancy...." (he was 100% correct and, come to think of it, is responsible for pretty much all our furniture. it's ok, i contribute all the stuffed animals, i'm helping)

11. What’s something you saved up for and then regretted buying?

for years all my skibrah buddies were like "bro you gotta get an Epic Pass it's the only way to ski bro" & one year i FINALLY caved and got an epic pass and... then due to illness/injury i wasn't even able to USE the thing to the fullest, and also, most of the bit of skiing i wound up doing was at a NON-EPIC MOUNTAIN, so. all i got was the warm n fuzzy feeling of "paying lots of money to the evil conglomerate that's slowly jacking up the price of skiing all across the entire world." UGH

45. What’s something you wish you had more time for?

if i had an extra three hours a day i could do job + all my hobbies + get adequate sleep. however i do not have those three hours so more-often-then-not i sleep less than i'd like (and uhhh sometimes i job less than i should, but, don't tell my boss that)

52. Did your relationship with your parents get better when you stopped living with them?

Oh yeah, absolutely. Though I guess there was a little back-n-forth, like...

High school: Relationship with mom was so-so but overall fine

College: Relationship with mom gets much worse. In hindsight, she was definitely working through some Empty Nester Feelings TM and i kinda got the brunt of that, but also, I probably wasn't as nice about it as I could've been haha

First job out of college: Mom's SO much more chill. So chill that, when I end up doing a residency in another city & plot to land a job on the west coast, I'm like "why don't I just move back home for a bit in-between gigs"

Living at home again: BAD idea lmfao. Things are really tense and bad

West coast job: Both mom & I are still a little wounded for a year or two, but stuff's much better from there on out, and nowadays I definitely count mom among my best friends.

(my dad was present through all this but that relationship's always been stable, by the virtue of me being Basically The Same Person As My Dad, lol)

[jikookuntold]

Where is your red line when you would admit that jikook is not dating ? Now when you see that Jimin is free, Jungkook is alone too, inviting whoever will come to his home to not be lonely and Jimin is nowhere to be seen. How do you feel now?

Nowhere.

Never.

And I feel great, Thank you. Lol

But don't go anywhere, I'm not done yet. I have questions too. My question is why you are so bothered by me believing in Jikook dating? I know many people out there believing in the most crazy stupid things, and I can't give a shit about it. Why can't you be the same? Or is it because you wake up every morning and monitor all the activities of Jimin and JK to see if you can find an evidence that is slightly not aligned with the idea of them dating? And then you come to your fake tmblr accout with 2 following and spam the blogs who turned off anonymous asks? This is a very obsessive and pathetic behavior if you ask me. Anyways I'm going to ignore you for the rest of this post because this is not about you, and your ask was just an excuse for me to write my thoughts.

Based on VHopeKook live last night, JK decided to invite members to "his place" to talk and have dinner together, and only Jhope and Taehyung accepted his invitation. So, Jimin not being there means that Jikook is not a thing? Okay, let's imagine if Jimin was one of members who responded JK's invitation. Wouldn't they repeat the same thing, saying that this proves they don't live together? The same people said that Jikook haven't seen each other in months, and it was only a matter of time to be proven wrong.

The story these people are trying to make is some type of a mutual pining. We see Jikook talking about each other, watching each others' videos and lives, JK invites jimin for food, Jimin invites JK for dance practice, JK invites Jimin to do boxing, Jimin wants JK to make him noodles and JK wants to watch his performance at music shows. They should take Yoongi's advice for that ARMY and just date. Lol

It's funny how people were getting hit tweets by making fun of JK building a mansion in Itaewon saying he doesn't need a mansion when his house has no decoration and he uses secondhand furniture. These people completely ignore the possibility of Brunnen actually not being his (only) place to live, since we already know JK is a very neat and perfectionist person. Apparently making fun of JK is more acceptable than that.

Wherever JK lives, he simply can not play loud music there, he can't do karaoke at 4am and not having neighbours on his door complaining. There is only one place that has no other residents and it is Brunnen building because it's all rented by Hybe entertainment, and as we can see JK uses that place for doing his special lives (which always include midnight loud music and karaoke) and other activities. Yes, he has clothes, kitchenware, a pethouse and other personal things in that place, and we can tell he has spent many nights there. But don't forget that JK is a millionaire, he can afford many things. He can afford things in double, he can buy more than one pethouse, and he can have more than one place to stay. It's not that hard to understand.

So let me give you a scenario; JK is leaving for LA (in a few hours the time I'm writing this post), he needed to pack some stuff, and since some of his clothes were in Brunnen, he stopped by to do the laundry and finish his packing. Since he was alone he invited the member in their group chat. Jhope came by because he loves to spend more time with members right before his enlistment, and Tae also came because he was alone. Jimin didn't come because he was tired or unavailable. VHopeKook had a great time together and shared some minutes of it with us, then VHope left, and JK kept getting ready for his business travel. And again, none of this had nothing to do with Jikook being a couple and living together.

[katyspersonal]

It is always so hard to recover the default settings of my brain after someone had already fiddled with them.

I live completely settled and accepting that nothing in my life will ever get better. That Russia will just keep getting digged deeper and deeper into its grave and I'll never be able to leave it (I am poor, nor I have qualifications important enough). That I'll just die here, and alone, and unloved, and very soon after my mom passes away because I can't fully care for myself. That everything will just keep getting worse, that I'll never reach the civilized world, that I'll always struggle with money for as much as food, that nobody will want to be my family.

But I accepted it, there is no need to worry too much if nothing can be changed. So it hurts even stronger when some asshole crawls back, telling me that he can't have a future without me, how much he wants to take me out of this mess and give me better life, how he has money to buy everything he ever wanted but it all means nothing if he can't buy me gifts and see places with me and meet holidays with me. How he just wanted to have a family at last in his life and only saw me as such - not because I was the only one who would accept, but because he only liked me. Because in the end I dropped my guard and felt hope. My brain completely rebuilt my concept of life and future from "dying alone, cold, unloved and pretty soon" to imagining doing everything there is to do in life together with someone I love.

But apparently he got too scared and uncomfortable with how fixated I became on meeting irl already, since I kept asking him about it? Of course I was impatient! I could not wait to take walks in the places he showed me together, and let him teach me how to cook, and watch all the shows he wanted me to show together, and do house stuff like picking furniture, cosplaying, decorating for holidays, taking care of pets, having long talks before falling asleep etc.. Yet he thought that was cringe and it made me sound "obsessive and entitled" and he went all "woah chill, you should be more HUMBLE and grateful for the OFFER, actually I was not in my right mind when I offered you, I am not really that desperate for you so why can't you just visit me once in a while for holidays or something :)"

And I just can't rebuild myself back to how I used to be right away. The vision of a better future became so apparent, so integral for my thoughts and feelings every day, that I kind of lost the idea. Like walking out of a house only for the door to lock itself behind me, so I can't even walk back in and am stuck outside.

I feel like my life just tries to teach me that I can't be loved or wanted. Why else I keep facing betrayals? Because it should be apparent that if something sounds too good to be true - then it IS.

[jodilin65]

MONDAY, MARCH 31, 2014 Yesterday went from fun, adventurous and productive to very sad. My beloved Sugar Ratty apparently had a stroke. Whatever it is for sure caused him to lose control of his motor skills and is affecting him neurologically. He sure acts like he had a stroke, and this is common in older rats. I just never would’ve thought I’d end up losing him first since Romeo’s a few months older. I haven’t lost him yet, but I’ve had enough rats and experience with rodents, in general, to know he’s not going to recover and will probably be gone by next weekend. I know a vet would tell me the same thing. It’s tough, though, cuz I want to make him as comfortable as I can for whatever time he’s got left, but I also don’t want to prolong the inevitable. He doesn’t appear to be suffering now, and hopefully he will pass quickly in his sleep (wipes tear). He probably knows the end has come, along with Romeo, who’s been by his side all the time.

He was out playing yesterday morning and all was fine. Then we went to Home Depot. We seemed to be there forever, but we needed to be because we needed to not only do research, but I wanted to be very selective about what we were buying. Everything ended up costing $400 but should be well worth it.

We checked out carpet and floor samples. For carpet, I’m probably going to end up with some kind of crème or off-white color, but I may also end up with Lilac or Periwinkle. I think it’ll be Angora if we go with the particular brand that has that color. It’s a very pleasant shade for a neutral color. The only potential problem with it is spills. You don’t want to spill red wine or anything like that on Angora carpet!

We saw these really cool color-changing LED tape lights, and checked out panels for our kitchen’s drop ceiling. We’ll eventually replace them, which will cost around $100.

Anyway, we ended up getting white mini blinds for the second bedroom and all 6 windows in the front living room wall, which is technically the side. I just call it the front cuz it faces the street. We’ll probably get shades some other time for the window by the front door and the dining room window.

We both love the blinds much better. It really modernizes the room and makes it look even bigger if you can believe that’s even possible as huge as it already is. It will look even more modern once that wall is whited out. They never painted that particular wall because the old curtains, which were unbelievably filthy as hell, took up almost that entire wall.

Then we got 8 gallons of Glidden semi-gloss paint with primer included. The living room will be the only room with white walls, but there isn’t much open wall space in there anyway cuz of all the windows. We got two gallons of White on White for that room, a gallon of Fresh Pineapple for the kitchen, a gallon of Sexy Pink for the hallway, a gallon of True Turquoise for the laundry room, and two gallons of Minty Green for the bedroom.

So as we’re excitedly talking about colors, furniture, decorations and stuff like that while we’re both pulling down old curtains and rods and installing blinds, I look over at Tom who’s looking at the rats in a strange way. I asked what was wrong and he said he was trying to figure out why Sugar was spazzing out. When I walked over the cage he appeared to be twitching and making jerky motions like he was stunned or something and was turning in circles as if he couldn’t see or make up his mind where he wanted to go. Clearly, he could still hear cuz when I called his name he jerkily staggered up to the door.

Today, not only did I awake with the earache from hell, but he’s not coming to me when I call his name, he’s not eating or drinking, and well, it’s a very sad thought to know he’ll never again chase me around the house, “tackle” me or cuddle up with me ever again (begins sobbing).

Later…

Sugar is now spending most of his time sleeping. He did stagger out of the burrow like he wanted attention for a few minutes. He seems to hear just fine, but I’m not sure he can see. What sucks is that I can’t get him to eat or drink. I’ve held water to his face, cheese, bread, crackers – but he won’t take a thing. It’s truly heartbreaking.

Truly frustrating is that I still have earaches and doubt any expert can help me figure out what it is and what to do about it if there’s anything that even can be done about it. I’m sure the guy would at least love to try and run all kinds of tests on me… at OUR expense. I guess I will just have to suffer on and off, knowing that I wouldn’t be doing so in the first place if it wasn’t meant to be for whatever sick, twisted reason the bastard above has for picking on me in so many ways for so many years. And now He wants to take my beloved rat a good 8 or 9 months before he should be taken. flips finger skyward

I’d say a long, long walk is in order this morning, not just to walk off some of the shit I ate over the weekend and keep my muscle tone up, but to help clear my head. Camp Nano doesn’t start till tomorrow and I have no other major obligations today. So why not walk and walk and walk…

SUNDAY, MARCH 30, 2014 Grabbed a few more animals at Walmart and now I have 28 pieces total. This is definitely going to be it for now.

Gray and white cat

White-tailed fawn

Adult deer

German Shepard

Golden retriever

Siberian husky

Dalmatian

Gray squirrel

White mouse

Black and white rabbit

Girl with white rabbit

Giraffe

Red fox

Coyote

Bengal tiger

White tiger

Rattlesnake

Hermit crab

Kudu antelope

Black and white horse

Brown and white longhorn cow

Black and white Holstein cow

Blue parakeet

Polar bear

Kangaroo

Prairie dog family

Zebra

Raccoon

While at Walmart, besides groceries, I also got a cute little personal electric razor. It’s great cuz it’s the size of a long tube of lipstick or a skinny tube of mascara and can fit in a purse easily. Mine’s got a rose design on it and is great for trimming those extra personal areas.

I also got some hot pink nail polish. Great color, shit quality. I will never buy from Sinful Colors again.

I love to try new things so I got some Triscuit crackers in Garden Herb flavor. I likey. A little salty, but good. Of course the rats just love ‘em, LOL.

I have been trying to get in the habit of buying fresh foods instead of prepared foods, not because it will get any weight off with this bum thyroid, but to save money. I don’t want to be all or nothing either, so this week I took a break from the fresh foods I have to cook and season from scratch and got some of the pre-cooked stuff I love. Not just frozen dinners, but a chicken broccoli cheddar bake in the refrigerated section that is so delish and so homemade tasting! No Angus burgers this week, which taste the most fast food-like out of any frozen burger I’ve ever tasted. But they’re super high in grease and calories so I don’t have them very often. I do what I’m good at. I’m not good at losing weight, but I’m good at not gaining any more and one way I do that is to keep the calories down. Not as low as I’d like, but low enough.

I wish I was a great cook and great with sewing, but again, I’m trying to focus on what I AM good at. Just like it’s best to focus on what we DO have rather than dwell on what we don’t have, I try to take what I’m good at and go with that rather than struggle for what doesn’t come as easily to me. It isn’t that I don’t like to take on challenging tasks at times, it’s just that I want to find a better balance between doing what comes naturally as opposed to what’s more challenging for me that’s only going to make me end up feeling frustrated. There are different types of challenges too, I suppose you could say. Learning languages and writing stories is always challenging, but I still have a knack for it.

Copied some surveys for bloggers from Tumblr and will do those while my electronic proofreader is running. It’s so boring just sitting there doing nothing while it reads, so this way I’ll answer some questions while listening to the reader.

Going to Home Depot this morning for the mini blinds and to pick out the final wall colors. Can’t wait!

SATURDAY, MARCH 29, 2014 Just a quick entry before I get on with the grocery list and fleshing out the characters for my next book. That in itself can be quite a job. I’ve tossed around a few plot ideas in my mind over the last week, and now I’m pretty sure of where I want to take the story. So next it’s off to assign names, ages, roles, etc., to the lead characters.

I never used to like reality TV because I believed that TV wasn’t supposed to be about reality, but more like an escape from reality. Lately, though, I really like some of the crime-related series. There’s one that features real 911 calls. One was a case of a woman alone in the country who shot and killed an intruder. What I don’t get is why she felt so bad about it afterward. I mean of course it was an unfortunate thing that no one wants to have happen to them. No one wants to be forced to kill someone who’s trying to kill them. But still… how do you feel bad about doing the right thing and defending yourself? It seems only natural. That’s why I don’t get why some women won’t fight back against an abusive guy. It only seems like a natural reflex to want to strike back just like it’s a natural reflex for us to blink if a bug or something starts to fly into our eyes. If it were me, it’d be a shitty experience to have to go through, but I wouldn’t feel any worse than I would for shooting a grizzly bear that was about to eat me alive.

Another thing I don’t get is the foolishness of some of those with a gun being aimed at them. Like the guy that broke into the woman’s house. As the woman herself said, “All he had to do was stop coming toward me and he would’ve lived.” Why are so many people so dumb? The last thing one should do is challenge or dare someone holding a gun. That is so macho male-ish, too. Always gotta be a hero. Or try to be. To say, “You’re not really going to shoot me,” is ridiculous for if they weren’t seriously considering it they probably wouldn’t be holding the gun on you in the first place. If you’re dumb enough to dare them or to charge them then yes, you really will almost certainly end up getting shot. I know that if someone said, “Go ahead, bitch, shoot me,” I personally would obey that command. :) Especially if it were them or me.

FRIDAY, MARCH 28, 2014 On the rare occasion that I check the news, I never fail to come away from it feeling saddened or angry. Reading about Texas banning abortions was no exception. Most people were all like, yay! And, this is great! And so on and so forth.

If being on top of the news is “educational,” I’d rather be left in the dark unless it directly affects me.

What is the matter with my fellow human beings, though? Just what is the matter with people? Don’t they realize how truly wrong this is? First off, a fetus has no more awareness than a doorknob as its brain hasn’t developed yet. Any doctor or scientist can confirm this. So to call abortion “murder” is as absurd as calling a punch in the face “love.” Violence is not love as abortion is not murder.

It saddens me to know that now some women’s lives will not only be at risk, but all these unwanted kids will also be born to parents who aren’t ready, can’t afford them, don’t want them, or who might’ve been raped. To hell with what the woman wants; it’s all about this cluster of cells that as of yet is no more aware than a blade of grass.

I have always had a low opinion of Texas much like I do Arizona. Texas may not favor blacks like Arizona does, but not only have I met quite a few bigots and assholes from that state, it’s also gone and added one more barbaric law to its already long list of crazy laws. Again, Texas may not favor minorities and not everyone there may be a shitster, but it’s always been as quick as Arizona to hand out sentences fit for a rapist for the pettiest of bullshit. Now women are thrown back in time with fewer rights and now more unwanted children can be born into an already overpopulated world.

Congratulations, Texas. Keep the insanity rolling.

Later…

Tom and I were discussing Texas banning abortions and he agrees it’s wrong. I feel sad both for women and for the unwanted children being forced into this sorry world. So much for thinking the Constitution would protect a woman’s rights. It’s bad enough to know they’ll force women to have kids they don’t want, but even sicker is that they’ll let it kill her if her life is at risk.

What. The. Fuck?

They’ll remove a tumor that might kill you, but not a cluster of cells that has no awareness? Again, our brains aren’t even developed till well after we’re born, which is why we can’t remember being born, so where people come up with this idea that a fetus has all this grand sense of feeling and awareness is beyond me. And of course the idiots are thanking God for this crazy law. But why? God didn’t do anything but sit back and allow people to trample upon the rights of women. That’s all the bastard did.

We don’t force women to live in states they don’t want to live in, we don’t force them to choose careers they don’t want to have, so why are we forcing kids on them??? Sadly, I see a new trend that I feared many years ago would slowly become the norm, and it wouldn’t surprise me if abortion were one day illegal nationwide. For now, I expect Texas will have a lot more women dying on their hands as they attempt to do what the state won’t rightfully do for them. Especially the poor ones who can’t just run to another state.

Hopefully, when one woman is killed by health complications after she was denied an abortion, her BF or husband will go after the people who allowed such appalling laws. Really, I hope every single one of them gets run over by a car or something!

THURSDAY, MARCH 27, 2014 My sparkling fruity water is gone, so now it’s back to plain old boring water.

I’m excited about the possibility of seeing Andy in late November! There’s a concert he wants to see that will be in Sacramento at the time, so he may spend the night then. As much as I’m anxious to see him I’m glad that it’s only to be for a night because I not only have no idea what my schedule will be or what will be going on with me at that time, but he would also be bored out of his mind for more than a night. I’m in a non-touristy location with not much more to do than eat and shop. It’s too chilly to swim in November, so there really wouldn’t be much else for him to do. This isn’t Hawaii or Florida, that’s for sure.

I just can’t wait to see him! To be able to hug him and show him the things I’ve only been able to describe and show in pictures thus far will be nice. Not sure the rats will still be alive at that time, not that he’s dying to meet them, LOL.

Used to hate reality TV. Not anymore. Love the "I Survived" series and similar series as well. I’m a Prime Amazon member so I watch them there. Some of the stories are encouraging and amazing while others are heart-wrenching and totally terrifying.

Really pissed, though not surprised, that my ear pain is back. I should know by now that the past always returns to haunt me. No matter how much I swear something bad will never be again, it seems I can’t escape it forever. So much for thinking a dehumidifier would help. It at least softens my skin a bit. Pretty sure now that the earaches are caused by inner ear tube blockage. (sighs) So I can forget about a pain-free life in that department and just be thankful for Ibuprofen.

The only dream of many I know I had that I actually remember was at this airport that seemingly had no security whatsoever. I was pissed at someone that was taking off on a very long flight, perhaps to Asia. The passengers had boarded and were waiting for takeoff when I ran onto the plane and screamed at them. Then I exited the plane and started to walk away. But then I decided I wasn’t done yelling at them and had more to say. So back on the plane, I went to scream at them some more. Suddenly I realized the seats were laid out slightly differently. People were now kicked back on these recliners that left little space to walk around. Then the plane started moving and I realized, terrified, that I was stuck on the plane and was going wherever it was heading. I shouted for them to stop but of course it didn’t do me any good.

Most of our Amazon order came today. The fox is bigger than I thought and the girl holding the rabbit is smaller, though amazingly detailed. Disappointed with BOTH perfumes. I thought Brown Sugar would smell just like that, brown sugar. Instead, it smells lemony. I can still use it, though. Pink Sugar smells exactly as it should smell, but the roller is broken. The ball is stuck up inside the cap. I can still shake it onto me. Love the moon fairy and the animals I got.

Tom’s cold is getting better but he still has a nasty cough.

As long as no more hair falls out, I love having thinner hair. It dries faster and is much easier to manage. It even seems a bit straighter. I just hope I don’t lose any more.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 26, 2014 The fattest runner on earth managed to get her ass out for a run today, lol. I’m shocked to see how fast I’m getting. I chose to just run around the circle tonight. It used to take 5 minutes to make a round. I figured 4 rounds would make a 20-minute run. Wrong! I was surprised to find I’d only been out there 10 minutes when I came inside. I’d have to make 12 rounds to get in a half-hour run! That’d be boring running around the same block over and over, so next time it’s back in the other direction.

The other curtain rod and the bug zapper, which looks like a tennis racket, came today. Now I’m looking for things to kill, LOL, but our Riddex plug-in device usually does a good job of keeping bugs away. I’ll go outside and hunt for prey some other time.

Got a ton of things coming tomorrow.

I thought Nane was already in Hamburg, but that’s not until next weekend. She’s been busy working and planning. I guess she’s hunting for a vacation apartment in Greece but is having trouble finding things within a decent price range.

Less than a week till Camp NaNoWriMo. Gotta start mapping out my story plot.

TUESDAY, MARCH 25, 2014 OMG, this is too fucking funny. I decided to write Kim M, who was in under the alias of Kim W, my first celly who was as likable as she was not. She was smart and helpful, but a two-faced beggar with warped priorities.

I put the return from Kim W. LOL, that’ll really throw her. Then I wrote out a bogus Sacramento address, took a wet Q-tip, and smeared part of the address. I didn’t want to leave the return blank and I certainly didn’t want to put my own. This way there’s an address even though there isn’t. Not sure if they’ll really believe something spilled on it and smudged it, but I figured it was better than nothing. This way they have to give it to her. At least I hope they do. I can never know these days. First God wanted to punish me for speaking my mind, now He seems to not want me to speak it at all.

I didn’t say anything bad. I mean I wasn’t breaking any laws or anything like that. I just told her I thought of her over the years and wondered what she’d been up to, but that it was sad that she chose crime over her kids. I told her I wanted to let her guess and wonder who I was till she figured it out. If not, she could look me up on Facebook when she gets out. So I wasn’t trying to be totally deceptive and hide my identity altogether. I just didn’t want to make it that easy for her either. I laugh at the idea of her being like, WTF? when she first reads the letter.

I also enclosed some excerpts from our time together. I’m sure she’ll love that trip down Memory Lane, LMAO, and of course I threw in some weird stuff just to mess with her and throw her off. A line in German and some senseless mumbo-jumbo, along with a couple of funny events that never happened. I even threw in a steamy sex clip from one of my books, using hers and Jessica’s name. Jess was our celly some of the time.

Later…

Having one of those days where I don’t feel sluggish so much as I feel lazy. I don’t want to do anything but write, read and maybe watch a movie. I don’t even feel like listening to music. I do have some housework to do and I’m going to make sure I don’t laze out of that. I made a few bucks doing surveys, which I try to do every day so long as it only takes 10-20 minutes. A few bucks may not seem like much till you add it up by the month and realize it’s adding an extra $100 to your income.

Soon I will clean, do one of my French lessons, then proofread old stuff.

Running’s out of the question for tonight cuz it started raining. Sometimes it’s so, so hard to motivate myself to run. When you know your weight can never be lost due to thyroid issues it’s really hard to push yourself to get out there. I know I could jump on the treadmill, but it’s not doing me any good other than to keep me fit and strong and from gaining any more weight. I know I should be thankful for at least that much. I may be big but I’m in shape. Running is healthy and it has decreased my joint pain while increasing my flexibility.

Thank goodness I’m not the self-conscious type or else I’d be embarrassed to be seen running this big, knowing that by now some people must be wondering why I keep running but never lose the weight. My only slim parts are my calves and forearms, LOL. 1000 calories a day to lose it that way? Fuck no! That’s like starving.

The exciting thing is all the packages we have coming. We did a HUGE $600 Amazon order wanting to stock up on things that are cheaper there and plan not to shop there again for 6 months to a year because we got sooo much shit. The list includes:

Vitamins for both of us.

K-cups for me.

An electric bug zapper that looks like a small tennis racket.

Another curtain rod and curtains with a beach scene for the front window.

A tablet for Tom.

Pink Sugar and Brown Sugar perfume for me.

A fairy figurine and 2 doll cases for my expensive bride doll Summer Dream and for the last doll I got to help keep the whites of their gowns bright and dust-free.

A new wallet and tons of electronic and computer gadgets for Tom, including an electric screwdriver which will help install the new blinds we plan to get for the living room windows and the second bedroom.

6 more Schleich animals, which will complete my animal figure collection as that’s pretty much all I want. The newcomers will be a deer, a fox, a kudu antelope, a zebra, a kangaroo, and a girl holding a rabbit.

MONDAY, MARCH 24, 2014 According to Walter, he estimates there’ll be a little over 10k to divvy up and I should receive around 4k. So wrong. So great but so wrong. I should be receiving 6k and my 4 nieces should be receiving 1k and not 1.5k. My check may be more than theirs, but I should’ve received 60% of the total and not 40%. Maybe I’m selfish and maybe I should be a bit more grateful, but for some reason that is a real slap in the face. I was her daughter. Not her granddaughter.

Walter says it will be a few weeks before my money is sent because he needs to meet with the CPA. I figured it’d take some time. These things always do. We’re not going to do the floors and carpet till we receive it cuz we want to save our money for other things.

Lady Di returned to Ask and now my follower count is at 5. I know that one is her and one is Andy, so who the hell could the other 3 be that are following this secret account? I’m guessing they’re either old accounts of Lady Di’s, or random followers from before I started hiding from the homepage. If they were stalkers they’d have reached out to me by now, even if it were under a bogus account.

Again they turned the water off. I could tell when I got up by the way the pipes were spitting air. I’m glad I wasn’t up earlier. I’d have been pissed. Daily landscaping sounds, car door slamming, loud traffic, water outages… in some ways, it was quieter at Jesse’s not that I miss being there with him and his mutts. Had to laugh knowing how hot I’d have woken up today if we were there what with how warm it got today. Going to bed at 6am on a day that was set to get up to 80° would mean having to decide – do I want to open the window before bed and go to bed cold? Or do I want to let the heat wake me up, get up, open the window, then go back to bed? Then if that wasn’t enough I’d have to take my tired ass and climb on the step stool to reach the cooler’s control if the computer wasn’t operating it. It was total bum living.

I’m tired of these rats stinking like shit half the time cuz this cage is so hard to clean. I’m going to put them back in the ferret cage even if it means having to scream at Romeo for making the mess he would make in that cage. He’s the second rat we ever had that loves to push bedding out. He’s not able to do that in this cage cuz of the “screen” that keeps him from reaching it.

Went to Behr's site and wasn't as impressed with their paint colors as I am with Glidden, which is what we used to do the second bedroom in with their Palest Lavender. I'm sure they're pretty much the same shades so maybe it was just the site layout I didn't care for as much.

The tentative color choices are:

Kitchen - Fresh Pineapple

Master bed - Minty Green

Hallway - Sexy Pink

Laundry room - Robin's Egg

Living room - Dove White

SUNDAY, MARCH 23, 2014 Tom has a cold right now. He had a sore throat for a few days with no other symptoms, and no matter how many times I tell him to scald his throat to kill it before it can fully set in the moment it’s sore, he won’t do it. Now he has a cough as well.

I just love our new dishwasher! It does the best job of any dishwasher I’ve ever used. I fried some pork chops in a skillet, rinsed it out, then the dishwasher got it spotless from there. In the past, I’d have to at least wipe the thing down with a sponge first. So I guess now I don’t even have to do pots and pans. At least not for the most part.

It’s 75° out there now. I like to run after my scheduled eating times, so that will be at either 8pm or 11pm. I’ll probably go at 11pm. No traffic at that time.

Last night I had a dream I had 3 kids and this guy I supposedly knew took off with them in a car saying I was a shitty mother. I then donned my running shoes and ran after the car (amazing if I could run that fast for real), and eventually caught up to it. The car stopped and I flung the driver’s door open in a rage. Cussing, I grabbed the guy by his jacket, but since he was well over 200 pounds I couldn’t drag him out of the vehicle. I could kick and punch, though, and that’s what I did. I had him out cold in seconds and got my kids back. Only thing is it turned out that my “kids” were baby ponies, LOL. They were happily jumping up and down and licking my face like playful puppies.

I'm exploring the map of the park to expand my running route as I get faster and in better shape. There's no way I'm exploring new turf at night, though. I'll wait till I can go out early morning since it's a bit warm at sunset. We're in for a cool wet spell, though.

SATURDAY, MARCH 22, 2014 When a stranger comes to the door my first thought is to be suspicious and wonder if a certain corrupt ex-piggy and his sick associates who lived with us for too many years may be up to no good. A chick in her 20s came to ask about some political candidate she was campaigning for. Never heard of the person nor do I care. I politely told her I wasn’t interested, though I probably should’ve told her that soliciting isn’t allowed here. She probably was who she said she was, though, or else a uniformed cop would’ve likely shown up fishing for names and whatnot. It’s when they come and ask you if your name is someone you’ve never heard of that they’re probably messing with you.

Went running for a half-hour, though I ended up walking some of it. Took off too fast and burned out quicker and all with the help of the sun, too. I still like to do a “sun run” every 2-3 days to keep my color going. It’s not much, though. Just a little on my face, neck and arms.

Stopped and chatted with a couple of ladies whose dog just loved the hell out of me and had to run up to me as if I were an old buddy it hadn’t seen in ages. Then I detoured by heading down by the lake. The ducks were all resting in the shade of the trees.

Virginia was driving by as I was returning to the house. “It’s too hot to work so hard!” she called out to me. Well, it won’t be on Tuesday and Wednesday if they’re right about the rain we’re to get.

Tom and I gouged out the expanding foam we put in the pot of the tree that fell over, then refilled it partway with Plaster of Paris. Once it dries I’ll add my decorative gems to it.

Got about a week now to decide if I want to join Camp Nano in April and I think I will. I’m mapping story ideas out in my head.

Emailed Alison to let her know about Molly, who landed right smack on my LiveJournal blog today (even though she only saw my bio), but I’ll have to wait a week or so before I hear back from her. I get sick of having to wait days to hear from my online besties, but they gotta do what they gotta do. Strange how Molly never tried to access my Blogger blog… unless she did so too fast for GA to pick it up.

It just hit me… Molly comes around 4 days after I stop updating on my-diary, which isn’t trackable. Could she possibly have known about my account there and followed me there to escape detection?

Nah, I think she likes showing up on my tracker. Good way to rub her unwanted presence in my face.

Every now and then I check Tom’s account to see if there are any notifications about whatever. From there I decided to block Mrs. M’s account just in case she ever tried to look it up. Even though I opted out of searches, I know how unreliable Facebook can be. I swear I had his friend list hidden, even if there’s only me and an ex-coworker on it, but sure enough, it was public.

Couldn’t find Molly, but I found an account of Kim’s in her real name and with her real fat ugly face. I blocked that, too. Sure enough, when I tried to access that account from my own page, she had blocked it as if I were the perpetrator and not her. I don’t know if she’s just kidding herself, delusional, paranoid or what, but she once tweeted something to the effect of blocking old friends before they find her. snorts with disgust Why would I want to “find” her other than to block her sorry ass?

FRIDAY, MARCH 21, 2014 Managed to get a full charge on my iPod after all. Maybe I just didn’t let it charge long enough, though it is getting old. My giraffe figurine came and now I’m waiting on the curtain rod for the dining room window.

Like clockwork, my body is now holding its weight after losing 4-5 pounds after my period and refusing to budge another pound. By my next period, I will have gained the weight back in both water and fat brought on by PMS hunger. The first few weeks after periods I eat to live, then after that, I live to eat.

Last night I dreamed we were having 3 or 4 people do something for us at the house, though I don’t know what. Tom went to pay them and was short a dollar fifty. I worried this meant we were now broke. I found the money in my handbag and paid the workers.

Then I watched as someone else came in and began spraying for bugs, hoping that we weren’t broke after all if we could afford to pay someone to spray for us. In real life, we’d do it ourselves.

I had a quick dream of Andy visiting, too. It was late at night. Tom was already in bed. Andy came in from someplace (a concert?) and was eating something. I told him I was going to turn in and asked him to make sure the doors were locked before he went to bed. He nodded through a mouthful of food.

The last dream I remember is staring with a few people at a picture of me sitting next to Nane by a pool somewhere. The people were laughing at how puny I looked compared to her.

Later…

Damn it! Just realized the trolls could now know what park I live in. I rated the park, not realizing it was set to public, and it was viewable on my wall to outsiders. It was probably only visible for a day or two, but that’s all it takes for the wrong people to see it. Including the shit Mexican down in Arizona. I suspect, however, that she and her friends never received the message at all, even to their ‘other’ box. Nor did one of her friends that I friended see the friend invite, which has since been canceled. There’s no way to get my two cents to this sick bitch unless I can find a way to track her down on a reliable site that can deliver people’s messages, and I’ve been unable to do so so far.

As for the trolls, if I keep out of easy reach I should be able to avoid tempting them to abuse my location in any way. Only problem with delusional people is that if someone’s fucking with them, they may automatically think it’s me. Hell, Kathy’s not crazy yet she suspected I might’ve messed with her from a bogus account. rolls eyes Like I’d care to waste my time doing so?

A few days ago Alison told me Mommy Dearest sent her a message on Facebook that she barely glanced at. Something about Molly not doing too well. So she too, just like her crazy daughter, thinks she can simply waltz on back into people’s lives after treating them like shit?

Earlier tonight I saw that Molly peeked in on me. What was weird was that she landed on my LiveJournal profile page but never attempted to view that blog or any other. All entries on LiveJournal are private except for my bio. Did she just want to remind me of her presence?

Later…

Tammy called saying she got sick after leaving her pulmonologist and just wanted to vent. Nothing wrong with that, but I wonder what made her sick?

Got the rod with the pink crystal balls on the ends and found it to be quite rigid. Tom feared it might be flimsy, but not at all. Gonna get a matching one for the decorative curtains I planned to put in the window by the door.

I realized that had I known I was going to do just the side windows I’d have gotten a garden and a beach scene instead of two garden scenes. So I decided to get a rod with purple crystals to hang the second garden scene in the second bedroom with. I will then get the beach scene for the window by the front door.

We were given 2k of credit from a company with no interest due till December. We’re pretty sure we can pay that off by then, so we’ll get these things with that credit. I’m not going to take pictures till it’s all done.

We don’t want to do anything with the carpet and walls until we have the money from Walter and know exactly what we have to work with. Unfortunately, I didn’t hear from him all week. If there are no calls or emails when I get up Monday afternoon, I’ll contact him to see if I can find out what’s up. Really hope we’re not waiting on Jennifer or somebody he can’t get ahold of.

Made my final decision on the wall colors. There will be 5 pastels and white. The only walls that will remain white are in the living room. That way any color won’t clash with my decorative curtains. The other colors will be lavender, mint green, sunny yellow, pale pink and sky blue.

Tom added memory to my computer and it’s now a little faster.

My Phoenix book is now complete. I’m working on the Maricopa book now and will make it public once it’s complete.

THURSDAY, MARCH 20, 2014 It’s been amazingly quiet since I got up at around 10am, but the day is still young and I’m sure I’ll hear some sawing and buzzing at some point. Maybe even lose the water for a while. Yeah, they decided to turn it off for a while yesterday. We’re both disappointed in this park in some ways. He doesn’t care about the noise because he’s out a lot more than I am and isn’t as easily distracted by it as I am, but he’s disappointed in the water outages, even if it’s been a while since the last one.

As for me, I think the park is very pleasing to the eye, and I love knowing I can run without dogs chasing me or anything like that, but it’s not nearly as quiet as I would have thought it would be for an adult community. Haven’t heard that dog since its last 3-hour barking spree, but I don’t think it’s because someone said something to them. I’m now thinking they were doing something inside the home that required getting the dog out of the way. I would’ve heard it a long time ago if that wasn’t the case, cuz no one wants to bring their dogs indoors here if given a choice.

It’s around 70° now which is a bit warm for running in the direct sunlight, especially if you don’t want to burn. I’m going to wait until the last of the direct sunlight fades before I go out on my run.

Down 4.5 pounds since my last period, but I’m not stupid. I know my body. Another week it will go into defensive mode, fight to hang onto its weight, and refuse to give up another pound. Then the intense PMS hunger will kick in and I’ll eat on half of what I lost since the other half will be water, but you know what? I’m ok with that cuz I definitely don’t have to worry about gaining indefinitely on what I’m doing. I’m eating a low-cal, high-protein diet with a half-hour of running and walking each day. If the best I can do is bounce up and down within the same 5-pound range having hypothyroidism, that’s better than hopelessly gaining a pound a day for life.

What I don’t get is why some obese people say they’re proud to be that way. I’m not obese myself, but 20-30 extra pounds really show at my height. To me, though, obesity is not an accomplishment to be proud of. It’s unsightly and it’s unhealthy. So while I can certainly see some people being ok with it, which is perfectly fine, how can you be “proud” of it??? Obesity is caused by either overeating and lack of exercise or a serious medical condition. What’s to be proud of in that case even if you don’t mind being big?

Tammy's looking forward to heading down to Florida at the end of next month. In response to my complaining about how my sunburn is making my scars more evident and I might as well wear a neon sign saying I WAS SUICIDAL, she reminded me how many scars she’s got from her numerous surgeries. The poor girl is like a human cutting board!

I have more to write about, but will do it in another entry.

Later…

Tom’s working late and I’m doing laundry while impatiently waiting for the sun to start setting so I can go out running.

I spoke to Andy last night who told me about his nightmare. Had to laugh when he said it’d take him two days to type it up, too. Anyway, in real life, his doctor, who was also his mother’s doctor, is moving out of state. He’s waiting for his new doctor. Meanwhile, he had a dream that his old doctor told him, with his mother in the room, that he would die of a cancerous tumor found near his shoulder blade. This, in combination with the dream I had of him calling to tell me he had cancer, scared the shit out of him. It would scare me too, if we both had a knack for life imitating some of our worst dreams.

But as I reminded him, not all my bad dreams come true. Yes, too many of them for comfort have a way of coming to life, but not ALL. A violent or deadly dream of someone usually means that the person I dreamed about is in for a rough spell and not necessarily the end.

His worst fears have always been burning alive in a fire or not being able to breathe, and he seriously worries he’ll one day not be able to breathe, just like I worry about Tom and I growing old and unable to fend for ourselves.

The only dreams I remember last night was painting part of our place, which didn’t look like our place, as usual. Only I was painting a low or the lower part of a wall. I decided to paint it lavender and then paint the “ends” pale pink on one end and light blue on the other.

Then I was with these two other women. Don’t know if I lived with them or was just staying someplace with them or what. One was white and poor, the other rich and black. The black one’s daughter was murdered and I apparently wrote a book about it to help bring awareness to the case or something like that. When I held the book up to her from behind a wall with a window in it, her smile fell and she stormed off, clearly upset. After briefly considering taking off in case she turned violent on me, I decided I wasn’t going to run scared and would fight back if she attacked me, even if I was risking her crying racism, hate crime or whatever.

Later…

Went on my 2-mile run and I’m not even tired anymore afterward. Sweaty but not tired. Went out once the direct sunlight disappeared and loved all the cooking and flower smells. I love all the decorative mailboxes some people have, too. Worked my arms and abs before it was time to go out, and now I’m going to relax the rest of my day away.

Yesterday we got our decorative drapes but we can’t transfer them to the drawstring track. They look ridiculous. So we ordered a rod with pink translucent balls on the ends. In the end, we’re going to do away with all the old curtains and liners and put up mini blinds in all the living and dining room windows. We can still put the decorative drapes over the side windows as planned.

I also threw in a giraffe for my growing zoo, which will be Animal Figure #18.

My figure skater trio came today. They’re made of very sturdy metal, but there was no wall mount or hooks or any way to hang them, so I placed two in the laundry room window and they look really cool there cuz you can see them from both inside and outside. The other one will be placed above that window once that room is painted.

The tentative floor and wall plans are to return to the original idea of re-carpeting everything that’s carpeted right now. Crème colored carpet will probably be what will replace this old ugly dark brown carpet. I’ll probably leave the master bath’s floor alone since it’s in good condition. I will probably pick some light-colored linoleum tiling for the other bath, laundry room and kitchen.

I’m not sure what all the wall colors will be, but one idea is this: The second bedroom is lavender. The master bedroom will be minty green. The kitchen will be a deep turquoise or sunny yellow. The laundry room will be powder blue. The living, dining and hallway will be pale pink.

I want to eventually get my bride doll, plus the one I recently got, sturdy cases to display them in to protect the whites of their gowns. It’s just that decent display cases are expensive! $50 - $100 just for a lousy case. Well worth it, though.

Tom was given two nice computers from work. I’m not at liberty to discuss how and why he got them. There’s a lot of security and confidentially where he works and with his job. They're actually a bit nicer and faster than our Macs and will make great backups if our Macs go out since they're getting pretty old.

I briefly considered taking one and returning to Windows, but I don’t like their square-ish aspect ratio and while Windows may be safer and less crash-happy than it used to be, I haven’t had a single virus since I went Mac many years ago and have only crashed 2 or 3 times. So why change what works even if Mac is a little trickier to navigate and I miss a couple of my old Windows programs?

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 19, 2014 Was out running at around 10am. It’s getting too hot for running. It's fine in the shade, but when I run out from under those Cali Oaks I can feel myself frying. It's nice keeping my Maui color going, but tomorrow I might run in the evening.

I swear if I lose one more strand of hair I’m stopping the thyroid medication. I’d rather be fat than bald. Some research shows that others have complained about it too, so there is a connection. I knew one of the symptoms of a bum thyroid was hair loss, but it looks like the medication can add to it. Tom said we can get me some Rogaine if need be, but I’d rather stop having health problems and costing us money.

I’m obviously not as big as I was in Hawaii because my gorgeous tank tops I got in a size large are now loose on me. I can still wear them, though, and they’re great for running. Still, if I had known, I’d have gotten mediums.

Upon inspection, Tom thinks the bees were getting in through an old unused vent opposite from where the oven is. We have no idea what the hell it was once used for, as there doesn’t seem to be any way an oven was ever in that area. He clamped some screen over the end of it and sprayed it real good with bug spray.

Again I hear sawing, but this sounds like a circular saw and not a chainsaw. Still, what is it with these people?

Andy wants me to call him so he can tell me about a terrifying dream he had that he doesn’t want to leave in a voice message. That must be some dream if he doesn’t want to leave a message! I’m definitely curious. I guess we might talk later unless he changes his mind or something comes up.

TUESDAY, MARCH 18, 2014 What kind of barking, hammering and landscaping will I be in for today? Well, I didn’t hear any landscaping or home improvements going on yesterday, but I can’t fucking believe they let their dog bark on and off for 3 hours, even though I can. All good things really come to an end for us, and this mutt will probably be hanging out there during the daytime till it gets really hot.

Without giving my name, I left a message at the office while they were out to lunch, and gave them the house number. I doubt they’ll do anything about it, though, and will probably just consider it regular daytime noise. I’m not going to complain again, though. I’ll just do what I do when the landscapers start up (though I’d rather that than barking any day), and hit the sound machine on. Maybe others will complain, but I doubt it. Maybe if it barked 8 hours a day they would, but I can’t see it getting that bad. Gosh, I hope not!

Oh shit. It looks like they came to work on the house they were last working on. I gotta get back on nights. I really do.

Later…

I was too excited to break the good news last night, but let me just kick on the sound machine so I don’t have to hear whatever home improvement projects, barking and landscaping that may occur today, then I’ll get on with it.

If only, I would think to myself. If only I could just win enough money to cover the cost of new floors and carpets, the most expensive of the upgrades we want to do. That way we still may have to take out a loan to get another car, but the rest of the projects would be relatively cheap compared to carpet and flooring so long as we didn’t try to do it all at once. A little here and a little there. That’s why we didn’t get curtains for the entire living and dining area. We got curtains for the side windows. Depending on how those look, we’ll eventually do the front. But just enough to do the floors would be heavenly!

And then I saw I had a message from Tammy. In it, she didn’t explain why, but she said I needed to call Walter, the attorney who handled my parents’ estate after they died. Her tone sounded almost annoyed, so we figured it was just to sign some form I needed to sign and that’s all.

“If they screwed up and overpaid me, I’m not paying back a penny of that abusive bitch’s money,” I told Tom determinedly.

Since it’s been nearly a year, Tom said he doubted it’d take them this long to realize they overpaid me and are usually pretty good about that sort of thing anyway.

I agreed, though I also knew he wasn’t calling to tell me more money was on its way even though the legal documents stated something to the effect of a small amount possibly to be added in addition, though it was unlikely.

Wrong! I’ve got thousands on the way thanks to a tax filing error. I emailed him my new address and SS# which he asked for, though I’m not exactly sure how much the check will be. He said 10k, but is that the total? Or is that what I’m to get? I think it’s the total. For it to be my share would mean the total was something like 25k and that seems a bit extreme. Still, 4k would easily take care of these floors! Still not sure what we’re going to install where, but we have between now and when we get the money to decide.

Still don’t like that my 4 nieces are getting 15%. 5 or 10 would’ve been more reasonable. But it is still an unexpected surprise that I also see as a wonderful bonus. Had the will been done up like most wills, their grandkids would get nothing and their kids would have to split it equally which means I’d get a third of the money and not 40%. Worse would be knowing that Larry’s child-woman would be about to make even more money that should rightfully be mine.

“I’m happy for you. It still hurts that I lost 15k to trips to Florida before Mom died. At least you are getting what you deserve,” Tammy told me on Facebook.

Hmm… really? Well, first of all, one can’t put a price on abuse, and second of all, is she trying to make me feel guilty or drop hints about sharing some with her? She told me last year not to feel guilty and that she specifically told Walter she and Mark were doing ok and that she wanted me to have her share, but now??? Has anything changed? I know she and Mark aren’t doing as good as they used to because of their physical ailments, and I also know people don’t always quite mean what they say. “Don’t feel bad,” can really mean, “You should feel bad.” “I’m not trying to offend you,” can really mean “I hope you’re offended or at least a bit annoyed.”

I’m not saying she’s deliberately lying or denying how she truly feels or what her true intentions are, but I think that sometimes some people aren’t as over the past as they may think they are and can subconsciously do little things here and there to insult others that they may not realize are smart enough and perceptive enough to pick up on. So she may say she doesn’t want me to feel guilty about the money and she may think she means that, but maybe deep down she doesn’t. Or maybe things have changed since she first told me this. Either way, the money’s mine and I have a hard time feeling guilty about it cuz I still think she and Mark have a lot more money than we do, and again, what she and Bill did 15 years ago by paving the way for the blacks to get to us cost us way more than my parents’ (or anyone’s) money could ever repay.

I hope this exciting event spawns more good things. You know how good things seem to happen in groups same as bad things? Well, hopefully, more good things are to come, like Tom getting the huge salary he deserves instead of the petty change he’ll probably receive for a raise next month. I had dreams of winning money twice, though I’m not sure what the amount was that I won. It was the same amount both times. $400? $800?

I also dreamed I saw my nieces, but one went from a tall brunette to a short blond, LOL.

Had a nice run earlier. The sun was warm but the wind was cool. Someone had a Hawaii plate with the Kauai Island on it on their golf cart, so I saw, and next door’s got beautiful reddish-pink flowers in back.

Most of the people here are well off, so the Hawaii plate doesn’t surprise me. That’s where most people here vacation.

I’m not one to get jealous or envious of others very easily. My attitude is that if someone’s got something I want that bad, why not go out and get it myself? Granted I can’t just get anything and everything I want, but I can usually achieve most of my goals, which makes the few I can’t accomplish easy enough to live with. It balances out for the most part. No, my weight can’t be lost due to hypothyroidism, but I can maintain my weight. My German grammar will probably never be very good, but I can still get my point across.

Despite being able to accept my shortcomings while managing to nab most of what I want, when I read about this woman who moved to Hawaii and how much she loves it and what she’s able to do every day, I certainly felt a twinge of envy! It’s a good thing Florida is not only way cheaper than Hawaii but similar enough in climate because that’s where we may end up 15 years or so from now.

I shared an article about yet another corrupt pig gone bad on Facebook, and sure enough, a pig appeared as one of Andy’s latest profile pics. And his pics are never meant to annoy or evoke jealousy in me, right? Sometimes I wonder if he has his own deep desire to annoy people he otherwise cares for.

Later…

This is the second day in less than a week that I’ve heard a chainsaw off in the distance. What am I, back in Auburn again?

Anyway, hypothyroidism is a shitty disease. You have little control over your weight and your hair thins out. This is beyond normal thinning we all experience with age. I could afford to lose what I’ve lost because I had thick hair. But if I lose much more I’m going to start having bald spots. Being fat is one thing. I’ve been fat for years, you really do get used to it, and it’s no big deal so long as you’re not seriously obese. But bald? I really don’t want to lose any more hair and start looking like a cancer patient!

I doubt I will, though I do have my doubts about this medication. Like most things, it seemed to help a bit at first, but now I’m not so sure. Like Tom said, though, there are other thyroid medications, so if this doesn’t help they can maybe switch it or adjust the dosage.

I just thank goodness it isn’t cancer or some horrible disease like that. I don’t think I could handle that.

Both my new drapes and my metal skating silhouettes are to arrive tomorrow – yes!

MONDAY, MARCH 17, 2014 My connection hiccups once a day or so and I really wish it would stop. It’s only for a few minutes and I suppose it happens to just about everyone at some point, but it’s annoying enough, even if it’s nothing like in Auburn.

Went running at around 10am and by then it was getting warm and sunny, so I went sleeveless. It’s easier to run when the sun’s higher up in the sky as opposed to just rising or setting cuz then it’s not in my eyes as much. It’s also a great way to keep my Maui tan going, but I don’t think I can stand the heat when it gets over 70° since 70° in the direct sunlight isn’t really 70°, especially when you’re running. When it’s too hot I’ll do the treadmill or run late at night or early in the morning.

Another “panel bee” was present last night. Yellow jackets are getting in through the oven’s vent somehow and caught in the drop ceiling. Tom’s going to have to screen off the vent up on the roof. I wonder if the bee catcher we got is defective. We caught tons of them with this thing at the other place. Here they didn’t seem to even know it was there.

Remember how I said no place I move to stays quiet forever and that after 6 months or so something or someone disturbs the peace? Well, there’s this house a few houses down that’s been leaving their dog chained outdoors on their patio that does absolutely nothing at all to stop its barking. How fucking rude, huh? I totally feel for the people right next door. That’s gotta be annoying as hell, maybe even maddening. It’s got a loud bark. Have they forgotten that dogs must be brought in as pets only here and not yard ornaments? Bringing your dog outside for fresh air is fine. But you’re supposed to take responsibility for keeping it quiet… or aren’t you? Maybe Tom was right when he said I was wrong in thinking that the idea of an adult community was for a quieter place and that it’s really to be around people your own age. It’s still quieter here than in other places we’ve lived in the city, but it’s not literally “quiet” unless it’s at night. Meanwhile… thank goodness for sound machines because I’m probably going to need them to drown this mutt out till it starts going from warm to hot.

Last night's dream was quick and senseless. I was in some small building that started off being surrounded by grassy fields. I got the impression I might've worked in whatever this building was.

Outside I heard a guy say to a woman how he'd already fixed that toilet, and she insisted he didn't.

Next thing I knew I was pulling a long extension cord out the doorway, but as I went to do so, I realized the grass had turned into an ocean. People were out paddling in canoes, and I could see a group of people on land toward the right, gathered to either go somewhere or partake in some kind of activity. The group was headed by an older woman in her 60s or so. She spotted me standing in the doorway holding the extension cord, unsure of what to do with it. She sort of looked at me and shrugged as if to say, "What can I tell you?"

SUNDAY, MARCH 16, 2014 Love my new toe ring! It's too small for the big toe and a bit big on the toe next to it, the toe it was meant to be worn on. At first I thought maybe I should've gotten a children's toe ring, but I finally managed to adjust it so it's snug enough.

Since I just can’t get myself to drink only boring water and can’t bring myself to give up soda, I got a variety of sparkling fruity waters with no calories or caffeine. Carbonated drinks seem to quench my thirst more easily.

I’m just as helpless as I was before starting my thyroid medication with my weight so I have totally given up in that department. I don’t even care anymore if I gain 50 more pounds. I will eat right and exercise most days and leave it to fate.

I was so fucking pissed earlier because for the third or fourth time since returning to the job site, a glitch cheated me out of my pay and I ended up working for free. An honest glitch? Deception on the requester’s part? Whatever’s up there that loves to make sure I don’t make money? Probably the latter. If so, thanks, God, I really needed that. First I can’t work, then I can no longer win, and now I can’t get paid for my work online? What can I get paid for?

Maybe getting a free doll from Goodwill was my compensation. Yeah, the guy never charged us the $15 it cost, so I didn’t say anything. We just paid for my incense fix. I also got a set of scented shower gels and lotions.

The doll is a 19” Patricia Rose doll. She’s in an elegant white lace gown with peachy pink trim and has brown curly hair and blue eyes. Very detailed hands, too.

Before the Goodwill opened we went to a dollar store where I got scented air fresheners and incense. I’m as addicted to incense and anything else that smells good as I was once addicted to cigarettes.

On the way to us are two gorgeous sets of curtains with outdoor garden scenes on them for the dining room window and the living room window by the front door. I want to see how they’re going to look before I decide if I want to get more designs for the front windows, or just go with a solid color there.

Tom found the car of his dreams; a 13k compact electric car that seats just two. The electricity it would take to charge it wouldn’t be remotely close to the cost of gassing up the car he’s got now. It’s the first new car that’s ever appealed to him before. He never wanted anything new because he didn’t want to have to make monthly payments, knowing that he could get something just as comfortable and reliable outright. I miss having a car with a working AC! We don’t live like bums anymore but we sure drive like bums. One of these days soon enough we’ll replace or add to this 20-year-old car with something newer and nicer.

The only dreams I remember was one where I was sleeping with a bunch of girls. No, not in a sexual way or anything like that. I don’t know if it was a situation like VH where I had to be there, but since living with a bunch of people doesn’t seem like anything I’d ever want to do in real life, I probably had no choice. I had to share a huge bed with 3 other people and was amazed to find I’d slept so well when I expected to wake up whenever someone moved or snored.

In the morning I asked someone who looked like a young version of Justine Bateman about the rules and routines of the place.

In another dream, we bought a huge, huge house that was very modern and fancy and had all kinds of gadgets throughout it. It was a definite mansion and had split levels as well. I was walking through it at night at one point and the words No Input glowed in red on something on the floor as I walked by, which my dream self assumed was some kind of air vent that was blocked.

It’s in the low 80s today, dry, and totally gorgeous. We were laughing at how hot it must be in the trailer, but it’s staying pleasant in here. A little warm by the late afternoon but I like it that way. No slippers, no robes, no sleeves… that’s me.

I don’t miss having to go to bed with the window open because we’d need the cooler in the afternoon if I was crashing at that time, then wake up freezing and have to run to shut the window. Nor do I miss going to bed, waking up hot, then having to get up and open the window in the middle of my sleep. I will never live like that again. Ever.

Later…

Resurrected “Justin’s” account on Ask just cuz I was curious to see if Molly was around. I said a simple hello and sure enough, she responded. How is she managing to stay out of my blogs??? Either way, after I “tested” her, I deactivated that account.

Then I saw that she tweeted. In one tweet she said she had taken a break from being online, but then got tired of missing her former friends and is going shopping.

In other words, she misses spying on us. I saw she tweeted to Alison about the weather as if they’re still old buddies. Why doesn’t Alison block her or make her tweets private?

Oh, and she knows why she still dwells on her former friends and that’s because deep down she keeps thinking they liked her and cared about her. rolls eyes It’ll never change. Never ever change.

The Mexibitch never appeared to have read my message, and I can’t really be sure it truly didn’t go to her ‘other’ box. Therefore, while I hate to involve others who have nothing to do with what she did to me and my husband, I picked 3 of her seemingly most active friends and sent the same message to them, figuring that sooner or later one of these people would think to check their ‘other’ box and will piggyback the message for me. I have a right to speak my mind, and even if it won’t change what happened or do a damn bit of good other than to make me feel a bit better, I want to get this off my chest and for her to hear what I have to say.

She could’ve gotten the message, read it, then marked it as unread, but I doubt it. I also don’t expect any response from her or for her to block her account. I think she’ll leave it wide open like the black did in hopes of me incriminating myself. If I do hear from her or her friends, though, I will block them. In fact, if I see any evidence that one of them got the message I’ll block everybody for the sake of protecting my own friends.

SATURDAY, MARCH 15, 2014 Love our new dishwasher! It’s pretty high-tech. Similar to the one we had in Maricopa only better. It has a compartment for the rinse agent and a thing that tells you when it’s full. You don’t have to add it every time you run a load, which is nice.

We had our choice of white, black and stainless steel and we got blue. Seriously, LOL, it's the protective covering that's blue. I just thought it was such a pretty shade of blue that I left it on, even though I chose white. Stainless steel is too restaurant-ish, and dust and dirt show up too well on black.

It’s plastic and not metal like our old one, so it won’t rust. I thought the other one was leaking due to a bad seal, but once we pulled it out we could see a tiny hole in back of it where it rusted out. Hard to believe it would do that after just 10-15 years, so more than likely it was the original, which would make it 30 years old.

This one has two arms, unlike the other one, and more space between shelves, which will allow bulky items to fit in better. It also has a time delay.

You would think things would get faster and not take as long with time, but this thing runs a long time. I guess they feel it does a better job if it takes longer by going through more wash and rinse cycles. The heavy cycle puts out 9.1 gallons of water, takes up to 2½ hours, and goes through 4 wash and 4 rinse cycles. The light cycle goes an hour and a half and uses 4.7 gallons with 2 wash and 2 rinse cycles. Most of the time we’ll use the normal cycle which goes 1¾ with 3 wash and 2 rinse cycles. I don’t see why it’s got a 15-minute rinse cycle, though. If you just want to rinse things wouldn’t it be easier to do so in the sink?

Later…

The rats got a couple of toys from the dishwasher’s packaging. A strip of wood to chew on that I placed in their cage so they can run across it from level to level, plus a cloth covering they’re now using as a bed in their burrow.

The FedEx lady delivered my realistic La Newborn Baby Boy doll and he sure is realistic, alright! He’s not quite as big as my girl baby doll, but he’s just as realistic. Still can’t believe he was just $23, though he’s regularly $45. The doll is supposed to be scented, but all I smelled was plastic.

Got my incense too, and even though my musk incense smells powdery, it’s still nice. The others smell as they should smell. Today’s the day for my toe ring and “homeless” cow figurine. LOL, Andy thought “Holstein” cow was “homeless” at first glance.

For dreams, I had one where I appeared on a talk show of some kind. Several people spoke to me in different languages to which I responded to in that language.

In another dream, I was with a large group of people. Not sure if we were on some fun activity excursion or what, but as everyone was eagerly rushing to the pool in swimsuits, I suddenly realized I hadn’t gotten mine yet from the section where you were supposed to “borrow” them from.

So the lady says, “I’ve got small, medium, large, x-large and xx-large. Take your pick. I requested the large and she looked at me and said, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a medium?”

“I’m sure,” I told her. “I have two huge floor-to-ceiling mirrors in the bedroom, plus a big mirror in the bathroom. I see myself every day, so I know how big I am and what my size is.”

She finally gave me a simple red 1-piece suit and then I woke up trying to find a place to change into it in private, but there didn’t seem to be any such place.

FRIDAY, MARCH 14, 2014 Is something up there determined to replace the Jes pest and all his projects I would have to listen to nearly every day? Once one house gets done with some annoying home renovation I have to hear, another one starts up. I don’t know what the hell they’re doing, but a few houses down they’re hammering and running something loud inside. It’d be nice if they could at least close their damn door. Now someone’s sawing some wood laid out on a couple of wooden horses.

It is otherwise amazingly quiet. I don’t even hear landscapers or freeway traffic. Not even much car door slamming.

It’s here! Our new dishwasher has arrived! It was cool how the guy got it off the truck with the lift in back of it. Then he wheeled it into the living room on a dolly. Tom has his own dolly, which he used to get the old one out into the carport. Unfortunately, when he tried to go through the laundry room to the back door, he got stuck and scuffed the edge of that door, so he had to go out the front door.

Anyway, if I really, really wanted to, I could probably figure out how to fully unpack and install this dishwasher after watching Tom uninstall the old one, but I know it’s one of those things he’d prefer to do just like I would prefer to handle the decorations and stuff like that. I unpacked some of it but will let him do the rest. It’s in a huge box that sits on a wooden platform. The rats would have fun with that. there was even a long stick of wood on top that I’m sure they’d enjoy chewing on. It’s a good thing I don’t care about the old books the previous owners left because they’ve been chewing the edges of them. Every time I dust over there I kick off bits and pieces from the top of them.

Later…

I’m a bit worried the car may delay the flooring/carpet a few months or more. The radiator hose is leaking. Tom can probably fix that himself with some epoxy, but he doesn’t know what’s causing the knocking sound he’s been hearing. We definitely do need to get another car. Not something too new that we’d have to make payments on, but this car is 20 years old. Time to move on. Just preferably not before we take care of the floors in here.

Paula called last night and I answered when I saw her number, knowing it’s been a while since we chatted, even if I still hate phones, LOL. Now I know why I had a dream she was terminally ill. She was diagnosed with heart disease. They’re sending her to a cardiologist. I guess she’s been having severe palpitations that would wake her up, as well as pain and numbness in her left arm, a classic symptom of heart issues. Hopefully, she’s still young enough for them to get it under control. She never smoked or anything like that, so it’s probably hereditary.

Saw a documentary on the making of realistic baby dolls like the one FedEx will be delivering today, along with my incense and some computer-related stuff for Tom. What’s strange as hell is seeing some grown woman care for them as if they were live babies. That’s just weird as hell to me. “They’ll never get diseases, they’ll never be in car accidents, they’ll never get into drugs,” they said. Yeah, but they’re not REAL. Realistic looking or not, weighted like real babies or not, they’re still vinyl. How do these women “get into it?” How can they make the whole thing seem real and believable to them at the same time they know they’re just pretending, in a sense. Our ability to play pretend just isn’t like it is as kids. We can still pretend, but it just doesn’t seem as real as we can make a game of playing house or whatnot seem as kids.

shrugs Oh well. Whatever makes one happy. I’m never sad for the happy, but I am amused by them at times.

Had a dream we briefly moved back to the Jes pest trailer, though I don’t know why. Tom was in a hurry to get to work but was due to return in just 4 hours so we could move.

I called Tammy this morning. She’s looking forward to getting out of Connecticut along with the girls. The house will soon be up for sale. Thanks to the economy, though, the appraiser said she’d be getting 100k less than if the economy was doing well.

But the economy is better. A house a few streets away is up for 70k. I doubt we’d be able to get more than we paid for this place without serious upgrades, no matter what the economy is, cuz 30-year-old homes this size typically go for around 30k anyway.

She had her usual gripes – physical pains, shitty weather, and frustrations over seeing blacks ride to the welfare office in their sleek shiny cars and thick gold chains. Yeah, it’s a pity so many of them still choose a life of crime when they now have more opportunities open to them than most whites ever had, but they’ve been the way they are for a long time. Why should she expect them to change now?

She talked a little about how she and Larry talked about how the three of us were victims of Dureen, and how Lisa’s a druggie and a liar that’s been in and out of both jail and rehab.

Mark’s having problems at work, which he’s looking forward to escaping. I guess when they head for Florida he’s going to retire (he’s now 63) and then they’ll just have their home improvement business down there. I hope to hell the business is enough to make it on, cuz it’s not easy for an older person to get a job, good economy or not. Plus he’s white, so he’s not going to get first dibs on things, qualified or not. I think it will be, though, cuz things will be cheaper where they’re going.

He hasn’t been given a title or a salary despite all he’s done for the company he works for. I hope that doesn’t end up being the case with Tom. I was telling Tammy how Bank of America really fucked him over – unpaid OT, etc. – and she said she couldn’t stand them. She and Becky were almost arrested for going off on them. Yeah, I can picture that.

THURSDAY, MARCH 13, 2014 You have no idea how demanding a rat can be till you own one, LOL. Sugar really loves to pester me for attention even when I’m busy, but I make sure to take a minute out to hug and kiss him here and there. Romeo’s still more aloof but he sure is ready and available to play our little game we play every time he sees me dusting. He’s obsessed with chasing the duster.

Lost the pound I ate on the day before yesterday. I wasn’t as hungry so I was able to eat less. I don’t understand why some days dieting is doable and other days I’m so damn famished I feel like I haven’t eaten in years.

The doctor responded to my message, and sure enough, she wants to see me. Anything to make a buck, I guess. She said she did have things she could recommend but they weren’t without side effects. Probably that Alli crap I took a couple of years ago. She did recommend drinking a large glass of water a half hour before meals to help keep me fuller.

I swear, though, I could run into her on the streets and tell her I sneezed the other day and she’ll suggest I see her for that, too.

And if I fart?

Later…

The beautiful azaleas are now blooming on the bushes in front and trees in general are beginning to sprout their leaves. I can’t wait for the summer heat and going swimming.

The new dishwasher should be delivered today and installed Friday or Saturday. Perfect timing too, cuz this old one is really starting to leak badly.

It’s fun working for little treats, though we still have some of our tax refund left that’s in our Amazon account. I have an incense variety pack on its way that includes rose, musk, sandalwood, jasmine and lavender.

I also grabbed a black and white hornless Holstein cow for my animal figure collection.

Got a silver toe ring that’s adjustable. I thought it might be more comfortable than my elastic one.

The best thing I got is another lifelike baby doll like my baby Grace doll, only this one’s a boy. He’s also anatomically correct and the most amazing thing is that he’s only $23. He looks just as realistic and similar in size to Grace yet she was $150. Could be cheaper cuz he’s bald. Grace has hand-applied hair and nails. Nane cracked me up earlier, saying she looked “schrecklich” and dead, haha.

My metal figure skater silhouettes should be here today. I know right where I’m going to put them too, and they oughta look awesome.

Yesterday was quieter. Just a service truck doing something across the street for a half-hour or so, then some house started landscaping when I was turning in around 3pm. I swear we cannot go one day here without hearing landscaping sounds. It’s just a matter of how many times/minutes it will be per day. Tomorrow, the house diagonally gets serviced and I’m sure the park workers will out buzzing away in the streets and common areas. Still better than hours of barking, welfare bums and their wild kids, college animals partying, and loud car stereos with the base from hell.

Tom and I were talking earlier and I want to make more of an effort to avoid pre-packaged foods without getting too involved in cooking since I don’t like it and aren’t very good at it. Not because all pre-packaged food is unhealthy – some of it is actually good for you – but to make eating less convenient. Convenience means it’s easier to get carried away. So I’m working on that and scheduling. I find it easier if I space out my eating in something like 3-hour intervals, beginning 2 hours after I get up. This means eating 5 times.

They’re also not kidding about meat making you less hungry due to it being high in protein. So when I do the grocery list for Saturday I’ll try to focus on fresh chicken, pork, potatoes to bake up, and tilapia. The in-between things I’ll have will be things like yogurt.

Another thing I need to do is cook up a SINGLE serving’s worth. It’s always easier to cook in batches that can serve 3-8, but I need to stop that. It isn’t what I eat so much as how much of it.

As for weekends… I decided to compromise with myself. “I’m big,” Tom said, “not because I don’t know what to do about it but because I don’t want to. I like to make a day of eating whatever I want on my days off.”

But rather than make a day of 3 or 4 different goodies, I will try to pick just one that doesn’t take me 5 sittings to eat like a pint of ice cream does. ONE candy bar is enough.

Personally, I think I’ll always be big because it’s just in my nature, like most middle-aged adults, to be this way. But I do take solace in knowing I shouldn’t have to worry about gaining if I eat better and keep working out.

Ok, I gotta drop the subject now or else I will feel hungry as part of it is psychological, like it or not. The less I focus on food, the faster my next meal or snack will come, and the less hungry I’ll feel.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 12, 2014 The rats are out playing now as I write this. Yesterday was very annoying as far as landscapers go. Instead of just a few minutes here and a few there, it went on and on for hours. Not consistently, but close enough. I wonder if some of it was even coming from outside the park. Whatever it was they were doing was bigger and louder than usual. I could hear it over the music I was playing. I hope it’s quieter today.

I realized two things this morning. One is that I’m never going to lose weight as hungry as I am most days, and two, I could send my doctor a message and ask if she can recommend an effective appetite suppressant to help get my calories low enough to lose the weight. There are tons of them on Amazon, but do they actually work? One person will say it’s wonderful, then another will say it’s worthless. Without something snuffing out my constant hunger, I’m forever doomed. I’m not so big right now that it’s unhealthy, but I could get there soon enough if I don’t find something to help me. Otherwise, I’ll never lose weight. Never.

I actually wrote the above two paragraphs 4 hours ago. I wanted to go out for a run. I like it when there’s no sun glaring in my eyes or traffic. It’s not just about the running for me; it’s about the fresh air as well.

After my run, I cleaned the kitchen and did a few other things.

Another reason doing the entire place in laminate flooring is appealing is that if we drip any paint on it, it would be easier to wipe it off a floor than carpet.

Been having fun doing surveys both for money and for fun. I put little treats in my Amazon cart and let the survey earnings pay for them. :) Some are boring but most are interesting. You just never know what they’re going to ask. Some questions I couldn’t possibly answer, though, because I either don’t know anything about what they’re asking or I never experienced it firsthand.

TUESDAY, MARCH 11, 2014 My dreams seem to come in spurts lately. Where I didn’t have any for a few days, I had tons last night.

Andy was in one where I said something like, “Don’t ever hesitate to file for disability benefits if you find you can’t work because of this.” I don’t know what “this” was, but I also said, “You’re not like me. I have a doctor who diagnosed my sleep disorder, says I can’t work, yet I can’t get my benefits reinstated that were wrongfully terminated just because I got married, and because I didn’t work enough years to qualify when all that should qualify me as being disabled. But you’re single and you worked a zillion years.”

Then he got up from the wavy brown chair he had in Arizona that he eventually gave me, and asked if I wanted to watch his old soap operas with him. When I said no, he went ballistic on me, LOL.

Worse was that I had a dream Nane died. It doesn't mean she’s going to die, though, but that something bad is likely to happen within 72 hours. It could be anything from a nasty cold to something much bigger. I don't remember how she died. The dream was very quick.

In another dream, I was showing people this old doll I had, and someone said, “Too bad she’s not a little older and made of bisque because then she’d be worth 48 grand.”

Then I ran into my parents and started dancing. LOL, I know it sounds funny, but as I approached them I was snapping my fingers and swinging to an imaginary beat of music. Once I got close enough to my mother I saw she had what looked like a mini chest with pea-sized food in it she was munching on. “What are these?” I asked her.

“They’re Wilma nuts,” she said and told me they were caramel-covered nuts.

I asked if I could try one and found the caramel to be very sticky. “I shouldn’t have anymore,” I said. “This stuff could rip fillings out.”

Well, I didn’t awake to find any “Wilma” nuts in the house, but I awoke to find myself hungry as hell for the second day in a row. I’m still the same weight but what’s with all these late periods when I used to be like clockwork? If it isn’t menopause setting in, then I’m not sure what it is.

Later…

The nights are still peaceful while the days are still annoying. It’s mostly door slamming and landscaping that’s the most annoying. Although they’re usually quiet about it, where could a couple of retirees possibly need to go 3 times in just 5 hours? Beginning at 8:30 it’s in and out and in and out next door, but everyone else rarely goes anywhere.

We’re on for 70° today and 80° this weekend. Definitely going to be getting some fresh air in here.

My appointment with the endocrinologist has been made for next month and will last an hour. What could they possibly want to do to me that takes an hour???

The more we discuss it, the more we’re likely to do the entire house in light-colored laminate flooring and add a large area rug to the living room. I want something like birch because lighter colors brighten up a room and things like drapes won’t clash with it as much as some of the flooring would have a reddish or orange tint to it. If we do this we’ll be pulling up these old floors and carpet ourselves, and of course we’re going to do the installation ourselves as well. We could go with vinyl tiles and really save money, but those aren’t as durable.

Later…

I started proofreading again, even though I haven’t quite brought my Dream book up to date just yet. I’m at the end of our time in Phoenix when the Mexican bitch next door lied to the pigs by saying I called her a slur and went off on her company, both of which were total lies. I know it shouldn’t, but this still pisses me off. Hey, it’s a Mexican. That’s what blacks and Mexicans do. They play the race card. But in truth, while I would use racial slurs in my own journal I would never call anyone a name to their face any more than I would call someone dumb or fat, even if I thought it was true, because that'd just plain mean and unnecessary. I can see joking among friends, but this sicko was certainly never a friend.

Curious by nature, I looked her up on Facebook and found a Debbie V in Phoenix that is probably her. Can’t tell for sure. The body type is right and I guess the hair and eyes are what I remembered them to be, but was she really only about 25 years old back in 1999? She graduated in 1992. The posts are what I’d expect of someone like her, lacking in intelligence and with a hint of aggression.

Well, let’s see if she remembers my “white ass,” as she once put it, I thought, then I hesitated. Then I said to myself, no, I have just as much right as anyone else to speak my mind and I will not let anyone make a coward of me or violate my civil rights ever again. And so I asked her if she’d dare swear under a lie detector 15 years after the fact that I called her a racial slur. If she hasn’t been online, is ignoring me or didn’t get the message, I don’t know. I do know that the message went straight to her inbox and not her ‘other’ box, which I thought was a bit odd.

It gets even stranger. I browsed her friend list and who should I find on it but a Kim W, the name of my first celly once I was pulled in from the tents. What, was the whole damn jail in this together? I wondered. After all, I always thought it was strange that I could never find her on the Arizona Inmate Locator site. The profile picture was too blurry to say it was her, but the hair color seemed right.

Could she have been a cop and personal friend of the Mexicans even though she claimed she was an AB member? Why not? The black pig was the black bitch’s buddy.

Then it hit me that Kim W could be an alias. Sure enough, the last name is fake. LOL, she looks terrible and is in on a flat maximum sentence for the same offenses as when I knew her in 2000 - drugs and armed robbery. She got caught in 2011, sentenced in 2012 and could be inside till 2017. Gosh, what a waste. She’s probably been in and out of jail and even prison since I last saw her.

She had the intelligence to be a cop, but I never thought she, or any of my other cellies, were cops. Sorry, but nobody can act that well or pull off such an elaborate cover, so I always figured she was for real, alias or not.

Anyway, the bitch is listed as having always been from Phoenix, so I guess that shoots the illegal theory. Why’d she run then? Too many warrants on her at the time? She was busted for forgery in 2003 and spent 3 years on probation, so maybe so. Still, I’m sure it was quite a picnic compared to what I went through.

Was surprised to learn there are two people in the US with the black bitch’s name. She’s been fighting it out in family court for child support, on and off throughout the years.

SUNDAY, MARCH 9, 2014 Andy has either got to be the least perceptive individual I’ve ever met if not the most insensitive and selfish. No matter how many hints I drop about the food talk, on and on it goes, telling me every single thing it eats. Not a very supportive thing for one trying to cut back on calories.

For those of us trying to diet, going online can be like a smoker without smokes watching a bunch of people puff away on cigarettes. So many people on so many sites talk about food, food, food almost to the point of obsession. The solution: less time online and more time on the treadmill.

I also want to adopt the “some is better than none” attitude. I have always disliked extremists who are so black and white and think in terms of all or nothing. Will I ever lose the 20-30 pounds I could stand to lose? No. But some is better than none. Will I ever earn $50 or more a day online? No, but $100-$200 a month is better than nothing.

It still bothers me at times to see people out walking or jogging who are thin while I’m doing the same thing, even if it’s as not as much as I’d like it to be, yet I’m heavy. But I also know that more than likely these people have better genetics and more willpower to say “no” to their food/hunger cravings since diet is more associated with weight loss than exercise. Well, I may not be able to change my genetics, but another attitude I can try to adopt is the one about accepting what we can’t control and making the best of what we can control. I’ve proven a long time ago that I can keep from gaining any more weight and I can keep in relatively good shape. So I will work with what’s in my control.

Lastly, I want to make better use of my time. It’s so easy to get lost on one of my writing sites. Then all of a sudden I’m like, OMG, where did all the time go? Time I could’ve spent doing other things. I don’t want to give up what I do now; I just want to find a better balance between both on and offline activities.

So these are my current goals for now. I don’t know how long I’ll do a better job of scheduling my activities and adding variety to my daily routine, but again, some are better than none.

Tom’s an AARP member and was doing a trivia game for extra points for discounts and things like that when he learned that taking Simvastatin for high cholesterol can help reduce the risk of glaucoma. That’s nice to know cuz I have a 20% of developing it later on in life.

SATURDAY, MARCH 8, 2014 My nieces didn’t insult me with pics they took in Florida of their sick dad, but one posted a “look how young we look” pic of them as little kids with the bastard.

Look how thin they looked, too. I hate to say it but by looking at them as kids you’d never think they’d end up so humungous.

I can’t help but wonder if it’s aimed at me or not, just like I wondered if I was right to take some of the pics Andy posted personally. Is it my gut that’s saying it was personal, or is my paranoia saying that? Sometimes I just don’t know if I’m right to be suspicious or if I’m just plain paranoid. Andy swears he was never trying to abuse me with pics, but it was quite a coincidence that he posts not only a person crying but a black person crying when he was picking on Tom’s lack of desire to socialize while calling it “sad.” Same with his hottie cousin who’s 52 after I said I didn’t think I was doing that bad for 48, and the chain-sporting black guy after I commented about how they couldn’t afford all those thick shiny chains on welfare. Again, I’m either not stupid and more perceptive than people (including myself) realize, or I’m as paranoid as people like Marie, Molly and Kim.

I told Alison about the latest comment on my-diary and asked who she thought it was. She said it seemed too intelligent for Kim, whose sister scared her off of harassing me, and that it could be Molly or Kathy.

My first guess was Molly’s mother if it’s anyone I know at all. “Silly rabbit” doesn’t seem to go with Molly, Kathy or even Maliheh. It goes with Andy, but not the thing about my parents knowing me the best. Sometimes I wonder if it’s someone I least suspect. Maybe it’s even Aly. She’d be smart enough to say things to throw me off.

I couldn’t resist inviting Maliheh to my Facebook group, even though I knew she’d refuse it and not even check it out. I also sent some coded journal excerpts. Just the fact that she’s picking them up and not marking them as spam or blocking me on Facebook tells me she’s hoping to get me somehow. If anyone knows she’s just as mean, vindictive and spiteful as the black bitch down south, it’s me. She loves to sic the law on people no matter how deserving they may be.

Could be that she’s still interested in hearing from me without having to actually interact with me, but I doubt it. She’s one of the coldest people I have ever met. She simply has zero conscience.

Later…

No one’s responded to my bogus entry on my-diary about chatting with Mommy Dearest on Facebook. I figure that if it was her that left me that comment, then she would surely react to this entry. She probably doesn’t follow me religiously, so if it was her she may not return for weeks or even months.

I activated my old Ask account, answered the question of the day, then put it back to sleep just to keep it alive. That way if I ever change my mind someday I at least have the option of using that account.

Taking the day off to eat what I want and all I want. I’m not even going to step on the treadmill.

My period is late which means I have to suffer from PMS a little longer and will probably have to cancel or reschedule my female exam next month, too.

It’s been warming up here and we’re having highs in the 70s. Before another month is up we’ll be needing the AC at least in the daytime. Even though it’s warmer down here than where the trailer was, it can be a little hotter out there before we need it since here we have a normal roof instead of a flimsy tin roof. These aren’t brand new windows, though, like the Jes pest had, so I’m a little hesitant to open them at night when spiders are active, not knowing how well-sealed up the screens are.

As soon as I’m on days I’ll open windows and put the central fan on to get some fresh air in here. That’s the one thing I miss from the trailer is having a swamp cooler. That and the seclusion. I miss how people couldn’t drive or walk by, though I’m also happy to say I’ve long since gotten used to it. Daytime sleeping is no problem so long as the sound machine’s going.

Last night’s semi-nightmare – I call it “semi” because there was no violence or immediate danger, though it was still unpleasant – was about the usual. Loss and money. In the dream, we were in some house and I guess we were under threat of bill collectors or someone like that coming to take all our stuff. I was even afraid of losing the old-fashioned paperback book I was reading before I could finish it. Although Tom didn’t want me to, I knew I’d attack them if they broke into the house, as I wasn’t about to let them get away with our stuff without at least some bruising and bleeding.

I asked Tom when I got up if he thought this dream could mean anything, but assurs me our finances are fine and that I’ve always been paranoid about people messing with my stuff. This is true, and I can thank my mother and Donna A. for that much.

FRIDAY, MARCH 7, 2014 “To most people, I can never do enough. To my dearest, I do way more than enough.”

I can relate to the quote above. To Tom, I can do no wrong even when I make mistakes, and to others, I just can’t get it right. Well, to some others anyway, LOL. Like they say, someone somewhere is always going to have a problem with anything we say or do. If I were a God-lover I’d be criticized by those who believe as I do; that God lets an awful lot of bad things happen to an awful lot of people to deserve to be praised. If I were the one supporting Tom I’d be called a sucker for it. If I were retired I’d be told that age is just a number and I’m still wrong for not working.

What if I had pet snakes? :)

Surprise, surprise, though… I do work. It’s just online, not at a set time, and not for much money. But it’s work and so is housework.

Where I do need to discipline myself is with working out. I’m in good shape but I want to get in even better shape even if I never lose the fat. At 1000 calories a day it’s doubtful that I ever will, so I’ll just aim for an average of 1500 calories a day plus 30-60 minutes of exercise. That’ll keep me where I’m at.

Tell me, though… why do only half my legs look like a runner's legs? My calves are slim and muscled, but my thighs are positively flabby as hell and wider than this house. I guess that again, I’m eating too much to clear the fat and expose the muscle in that area.

Our new dishwasher has been shipped. Tom said it should be easy enough to uninstall the old one and install the new one cuz it's not hardwired. It's just two hoses and a plug.

I worried my readers when I said I got a rabbit and a blue parakeet from Amazon. Yeah, I forgot to add that they're made of plastic. People were like, you can buy animals on Amazon? Since when? LOL

haha, I was trying to write Nane an email in German but my auto-corrector kept flipping the words to English.

Anyway, I think I’ll run through another chapter. It takes about 5 minutes to read a chapter, so I prop my Kindle on the treadmill and do 5-minute running sprees. That’ll put me up to 15 minutes for the day.

THURSDAY, MARCH 6, 2014 Unlike last month, I’m having the PMS from hell with water retention and backaches. I find it helps my back a bit if I keep my legs straight and bend over so my fingertips touch the floor. Then I allow a slight bend to my knees, allowing my body to fold a bit more and to place the palms of my hands on the floor.

Still 25 pounds overweight too, which looks like 50 at this height. At least in my mind, it does. As someone pointed out to me, I realize I, like most of us, am my own worst critic at times. I’m fat but not obese. I’m not pretty but I’m not ugly. Tracy K and Bonny B, those were ugly. My face won’t be found on a fashion magazine cover, but I realize I still have decent features and that things could be a lot worse in the face and the body.

My thyroid pills would no doubt allow me to get results from both dieting, but I still have the same problem as before – it takes about 1000 calories to do it. That’s not enough food month after month, so I am going to stay where I’m at. Contrary to popular belief, we aren’t what we eat so much as we are how MUCH we eat, so no matter how healthy I eat, 1500 calories of lean meats and fresh fruits and veggies are too much for a woman my age and height to lose on even with exercise. Sure don’t have to worry about gaining, though, so long as I don’t start stuffing myself or sitting on my ass.

Had a horrible, horrible nightmare last night. Or more like today, I should say. Either way, my sense of hopelessness and helplessness was exactly like it was in 2011 when the government gave up on some of its own, including us. Don’t know why Tom and I weren’t living together in the dream, but I seemed to be in my own 1-bedroom apartment or house or whatever the hell it was. Tom was over one night and we were talking about the latest financial crisis to hit us. Then he suddenly said, “Good night,” and was gone in the blink of an eye. I was on the verge of panicking and didn’t want to be left alone that night.

“Be brave and strong,” I told myself, “and maybe after the weekend is through I’ll find a solution to this problem and everything will be fine again.”

But I knew deep down it wouldn’t be. Everything I thought of to help myself had some kind of catch to it, making it an impossible solution. My anger at God surfaced and I thought, I am not going to be His bum again! I realized He’d never stop letting bad things happen to me – really bad things – and that the only way to stop His cycle of abuse was to die. I knew that if I didn’t kill myself, the situation would do so on its own since I couldn’t survive the streets, especially now that I needed medication. Preferring to go quicker and in bed just like in real life a few years ago, I started making preparations when I woke up to pee.

Once I fell back asleep, the damn nightmare continued, though it had kind of a happy ending. It was the next day and Tom was back with tons of food.

“Some cop decided everyone should have food subsidies,” he told me, and I was all relieved and happy as I dived into the spaghetti and meatball meal laid out before me. Don’t know why I was, though. Food subsidies will fill your stomach but they won’t pay the mortgage/rent.

I told Tom about it and he assured me everything was fine. They did, however, lay off a bunch of people on the second shift, which they’re doing away with. He could’ve been one of them had he gotten on that shift, so thank goodness he didn’t. Still don’t know if he’s getting a promotion or not, but as long as he stays where he is, that’s fine. He makes enough money to live on.

He also pointed out that there wasn’t any imminent danger in the dream as there was in the “riot” dream and the one where we fell 20 or more feet.

The endocrinologist called wanting to make an appointment, but as Tom said, they’ll just have to wait on us. My schedule isn’t such that I can play appointment right now, and anyone receiving money and not giving it is working for us as far as I’m concerned. So in another week or two, we’ll schedule that, plus the eye specialist, plus the sleep specialist, and then I have my April female exam. That may have to be canceled, thanks to my cycle becoming more erratic.

Tom suspects the good (sexy) doc wants me to see a specialist cuz of the way I asked if hypothyroidism can cause or affect my OH. Maybe she’s worried the medication could aggravate it or something like that.

I will also call Tammy and Paula once I’m back on days, the two people left on earth who prefer phones to email/Facebook.

I’m excited and happy for my friend Christine. She’s getting married and after she and her fiancé looked at my Hawaii albums, they’re thinking of going there for their honeymoon. It still shocks me that Andy said a friend of his went to Honolulu and found it similar to Phoenix, Arizona, only with an ocean attached to it. Well, we went to Maui and not Honolulu, but I still don’t see how the two could even be remotely comparable. Arizona’s brown. Hawaii’s greener than green. You will also find tons of trees, plants and flowers that Arizona doesn’t have. There are only so many things you can plant in Arizona because it is just so damn hot and so damn dry.

It sure wasn’t dry here last night. It rained super hard and we even had some thunder and lightning. I was glad I wasn’t asleep.

According to a study Tom read, rats have their own “dream people.” They put a chip in their brains to determine brain activity during sleep, eating and playtime. They appear to dream of what they were last doing when they first fall asleep. Then they have random dreams from there on out.

Later…

I saw a very scary documentary last night on stalking. This woman moved to another state (I forgot which one) with her husband and two kids. Jane settles in and her neighbor Mary comes over to introduce herself to her. They hit it off instantly and become good friends. Jane always dressed conservatively, but Mary dressed a little young for her age. Then Mary dyed her hair the same color as Jane’s and started dressing like her, too. Jane thought that was weird at first, but took it as a compliment of sorts.

Then Mary started showing up wherever Jane went. Jane was feeling smothered instead of flattered at this point, and then she became really concerned as it escalated.

We’re taught that if we ignore the bully, the bully gets bored with us and eventually moves on. Not Mary. Mary became angrier and more determined the more Jane tried to avoid her. Once Mary makes a bogus claim to her son’s school counselor saying that Jane’s been abusive and neglectful, Jane goes to the cops. The cops are useless, though, since she hasn’t technically broken any laws.

Jane doesn’t lose her son, which pisses Mary off even more and drives her determination up a notch. Mary becomes so obsessed with tormenting Jane that she uses her own daughter to spite her by filing a false claim of Jane trying to run them over. Jane’s then arrested and taken to trial. Jane’s then acquitted and no charges are filed against Mary despite Jane’s insistence that she was being called a stalker by the very person that was stalking HER, a very common accusation made by real stalkers. It’s always you bothering them when in fact it’s just the opposite.

Anyway, Jane’s damn lucky Mary wasn’t black with the way the courts are afraid to favor whites and get called racists by the blacks involved as well as the general public. Both women were the same color and both had kids. Still, she lost an awful lot of money, went through a world of stress, and had to move to escape Mary’s obsession, all the while Mary would stand there snapping pictures of Jane and her family, which is also perfectly legal.

It’s scary to think you can cause a whole boatload of trouble for someone simply by making an accusation, true or false, and I don’t understand why they don’t polygraph the accusers. Those are virtually impossible to fool, so why don’t they utilize it more than for just murder cases? If they’d have pollied my own legal perps they would’ve known who was the true victim from the get-go.

I sometimes said I wished those stalking me online would appear to me in person so I could forever put them out of business, but I don’t know about that anymore. Online a click of the mouse usually gets them out of the picture. I stick to sites that allow for user blocking and I ignore anything that can be anonymously sent to me (I also do so cuz of spam and scams). In person, though, I’d be fair game to whatever they had in mind for me unless I truly did kill them or at least scare them off somehow.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 5, 2014 I’m so happy and excited for my sister! But first, another strange thing within the costs summary for my healthcare was that it said it cost about $300 for her to do my toe. But it also costs that just to talk to the ear specialist, plus $500 to vacuum the canal. WTF?!?!

Then Tom clicks on the ‘pay now’ button and it says we only owe $25, so that’s all we paid. Still think they’ll probably bill us for the toe since that’s not considered preventative (at least we don’t think it is), but we’ll pay whatever we owe.

We spent $500 of our tax return on Amazon tonight and ordered a new Frigidaire dishwasher in white.

Tom has also wanted to try a trackpad, so he got one, plus a yellow jacket trap since those will be an issue soon, especially in such a flowery neighborhood.

I also got a couple more animals to add to my collection, a black and white rabbit and a blue parakeet.

Lastly, I got these really cool skater silhouettes made of metal. It’s a set of 3.

Lemme check on the rats… ok, one went back home and the other is napping on the bookshelf.

Anyway, Tammy's going to get situated in an apartment in Florida in April. Hopefully, it will be in an adult community, though I don’t see how she could get into one with such a big dog. Would a big dog even be able to handle an apartment in the first place? I guess it will have to. I just worry about the Bad Neighbor Curse striking her if she ventures into the mainstream. We had every degenerate and noisemaker imaginable – welfare bums, college kids, large families with tons of little kids – so I’d hate for her to have similar experiences. The girls are getting apartments down there, too.

After she’s settled in a much smaller place that she can deal with easier than the huge house she’s in now, Mark will return to CT to prep the house for sale.

They have friends in Florida, so it’s not like they’ll be moving where they don’t know a soul like we did when we went to Oregon and then when we came here. The point is that disabled or not, they feel they have no life in CT. They want to be where they have the option of going swimming every single day of the year if they want to. I envy their the climate, just not the apartment. I do love the dry heat of the summers here, though. The summers here can get pretty damn hot, often reaching 110°, but is otherwise gorgeous.

I totally agree with her as far as it being better to have a life in a small place than no life in a big place. Look at what I went through in S. Deerfield back in 1991. I had a big beautiful apartment but no life to go with it. Same for Tom and I in Maricopa. Gorgeous brand new 2100-square-foot house that was sucking every last dime out of us. The welfare bums using their corrupt pig pal to seek legal revenge on me for the city complaint lodged against them was no fun either, but of course that was part of the package, too.

She mentioned both of us or just me coming to visit and saying she’d help with the costs, which would be wonderful. I’d certainly rather see her there than in CT. It just may be a year or two cuz you’re still talking a lot of money, and it would only be for a few days. Of course I’d prefer to go with my nearest and dearest, but I wouldn’t mind going alone if Tom couldn’t get the time off. I think he will, though, cuz they give him a lot of time off at work. And if they give him what we hope they’ll be giving him next month, he’ll be salaried and we definitely won’t have to worry about going broke or him being laid off anytime soon.

TUESDAY, MARCH 4, 2014 Slept from 5am - 1pm. I was surprised to get up at the same time as yesterday, but even though I woke up 3-4 times along the way, I feel well-rested for once. It seems I might’ve dreamt about preparing to go on vacation again.

I’m down a pound, though I don’t know why. I ate when I was hungry yesterday, and treated myself to a big bowl of ice cream with caramel topping, and didn’t work out. But today I need to hit the treadmill and put more effort into it which means avoiding certain sites so I don’t have to hear all about every single fucking bite of food everyone ate today that will only remind me even more of how hungry I am. Hearing what people are eating every now and then is fine, but I don’t need to know about every single meal and snack you have any more than you need to know all the details of my daily workouts, measurements and weigh-ins.

Before I drop the subject of food, the chicken casserole I made came out incredibly bland. Fuck cooking. I suck at it and I have no interest in it anyway. I’ll stick to buying prepared foods. It’s more expensive but it’s definitely more convenient, and not all pre-made stuff is bad for you.

I nearly wanted to scream when I got an email alert saying I’m being referred to an endocrinologist, Dr. D. It’s great to be insured and to take preventative measures to ensure I make it to 60, but remember, I have to pay for this shit. Tom and Jodi don’t get things handed to them for free in life. We don’t pay for lab work, regular check-ups and things like that, but specialists and special procedures like removing my ingrown toenail are things we have to pay for. We pay 20% at the dentist which doesn’t include cleanings and x-rays, $25 copays, and $35 for specialists. I guess we’re going to borrow against our 401K when it comes time to do the carpet and floors so we don’t have to take from the savings, which is dwindling fast. We’re still paying for shit we did in Hawaii, but hey, how often does one get the chance to go down in a submarine?

Anyway, I was confused at first because the results of my ultrasound showed nothing to worry about at this time, yet I guess this person needs to adjust the medication levels. Why I can’t just go to the lab, beats me, though they may want me to go before the appointment. I’m sure they’ll have to adjust the Simvastatin, too.

Later…

Looks like whoever was harassing me at my first my-diary account has found my second one. They used a bogus email address, of course, from Everlistentoyourself@Soundslikeyourparentsknewyoubest.com and then wrote: Jodi gets free stuff always. Tom is the worker bee silly rabbit.

It’s sad what marriage is all about today. What’s hers is hers and what’s his is his. Why get married if that’s the attitude people have? Really why bother if you’re not going to be a team? Why is it that if you’re BOTH not physically and mentally able to contribute on an equal measure, it’s “unfair?” Now don’t get me wrong. There are a lot of lazy people out there. People who aren’t disabled in any way and who have at least an average intelligence level that are perfectly capable of contributing in more ways than just cooking and housework. But what about people like me and others who are disabled? What, we’re only worthy of being a spouse if we can “pay up?”

I can also understand that it’s only natural to feel guilty even though you know you shouldn’t and that it’s not your fault. I just expressed to Tom the other day how I felt bad my health issues were costing us so much, and he assured me and reminded me that it’s not my fault. Also, what’s the point of making money (whether it’s one of you or both of you) if you’re not going to use it for things you need?

I know what he’s saying. Money Tom makes is OUR money just like money I make working online is also OUR money. It’s just natural not to wish you could make even more at times, you know? But I also know I would do the same for Tom if he was the one who was disabled. That’s what true love is all about; being loved and accepted as you are, shortcomings and all. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, and anyone who feels we don’t measure up and aren’t good enough when we’re trying our absolute best can’t possibly love us. It isn’t about who can make the most money; it’s that you have what you need to live on. Period.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s a random person who followed my other account closely and then happened to find my new one (if they frequently checked the latest entries to come in on the main page) or if it’s someone I’m close to that I have regular contact with. Someone I’d least suspect that has a Jekyll and Hyde personality I’m not aware of and that’s been two-facing me like Kim did. It could be Molly’s mother. She’d defend my parents and use the “silly rabbit” thing. Kathy doesn’t seem the type to use the parents thing, and she’s preoccupied with a baby these days, so I’m going with Mrs. M or the stranger who likes to complain that I complain too much. Hell, maybe it’s Andy.

The more Tom and I go over the bill at the online health site, the more confused we are. It suggests we owe $25 as well as $650 and even $900. Well, which is it? These people make no sense. And I still don’t get why the sudden endocrinologist referral. She told me she was sending me to an ear specialist. She told me she was sending me for an ultrasound. She told me she wants me to go to the sleep clinic. So then why didn’t she tell me about the endocrinologist???

MONDAY, MARCH 3, 2014 My ear appointment went well, but damn am I exhausted, and damn am I looking forward to letting my body get all the sleep it needs to get and do away with alarms for the first time in over a month! I am just so, so drained. Struggling to make this last round of appointments is a stark reminder of how I could never keep a schedule to save my life, no matter how many of you self-proclaimed “experts” may think otherwise. Speaking of experts - you know, the real ones? – I’m not in any hurry to make an appointment at the sleep clinic because I know there’s not much that can be done in my particular case, and they’re still going to cheat me out of my benefits anyway. I’ll get to it when I get to it.

I usually hear the alarm as soon as it goes off. Not today. Today I slept 6 minutes into it, that’s how tired I am. But even so, I made it in time and wasn’t made to wait forever in the waiting or exam room. The doctor was nice, but sadly, I doubt he’d have been able to help me any more than the last doctor in Oregon could with the aches and pains had I not discovered the cure on my own. He did, however, vacuum the canal out. It’s amazing what the right tools can do to clean an artificial ear canal.

I don’t know why, but in 6 months when I’m scheduled for the next cleaning, I am to have hearing tests. Just what is it I gotta hear, though? I hear fine enough. I wouldn’t bitch about car doors and landscapers if I had a problem hearing. My left ear may still be pretty close to deaf, but my right ear is pretty normal. They will still probably recommend a hearing aid.

We are looking at a serious tax break next year with all these doctor appointments I’ve been catching up on!

Meanwhile, I’m still dragging but unable to go back to sleep. I laid down for nearly an hour and now I think I’ll just have an exhausting night reading and watching movies till I crash and enjoy catching up on all my lost sleep. LOL, that will probably take 10-12 hours at the rate I’m going! My thyroid pills have not only lessened the head rushes, but I’m not waking up as often as I used to throughout my sleep, so maybe I can catch up in 8-9 hours now that the stress and pressure are off for a while.

Later…

Will Holly return to my blog tonight? I doubt it. Next weekend? I doubt that, too.

Loving my new toe ring that arrived today. It’s too big for the toe next to my big toe, so it’s on my big toe instead. It’s a bit snug there, but I’d rather that than too loose. The purple gemstones are shinier than they appeared online. It has an elastic band that looks almost invisible against the skin, making the gems appear embedded in my toe. Not sure if I can wear my running shoes with it, but I can wear slippers.

Still working on my Dreams book on Prosebox and am amazed by the number of two-story house dreams I had for them not to mean anything. Reoccurring dreams often have some kind of message in them, but not in a place where two-story houses are scarce. Signs of the West: Single-story homes, no basements, no dogs allowed indoors.

What’s amazing is how many dream premonitions I had that I forgot about. A lot of them were trivial things like the Facebook timeline eventually being forced on everyone and little things like that. But the sheer number of them is like, wow.

Love the “pink paws” dream I had a few years ago where we could decorate the walls in people’s houses and not just Facebook, and I left a trail of pink paw prints on Nane’s living room wall to let her know I’d stopped by. LOL, I told her about it too, and I’m sure she’ll get a kick out of it.

Andy had his own dream of her where she was at a fashion show he attended and recognized her. He went over to where she was sitting, said hello, then let her know he’d let me know he saw her there.

Andy’s latest car is also receiving scratches and his webcam is so worthless that he still doesn’t know who’s doing it. I wonder if it’s random or someone who has something against him personally? It’s sad that this kind of shit has to occur where he lives, though he said he’s not worried about it.

The doctor also said something about my good ear that I’ve heard before; it has a bony curve to it often found in adults who often swam in cold water as kids. Well, we sure did that every summer at the beach. He said sometimes it can cause problems later on by blocking canals and stuff like that, but doesn’t think I’ll ever have a problem with it.

My blood pressure was also back to normal.

I forgot to say that I was wrong about my eye pressure numbers. One eye was actually up to 29 last time around. The highest reading I’ve had was 30. I still doubt it will lead to glaucoma, though that and the sleep specialist are next up on the list. Plus I have a female exam awaiting me next month – ugh.

Finally remembered a couple of dreams I had last night for the first time in days. They were weird, too. I’ll be sure to copy them into my Dreams book, but will probably post a month of dreams at a time rather than an entry for every single dream I have. Fortunately, I can save drafts there, so I can add to the draft, then publish it when the month ends.

In the first dream I had, it was late at night. I was wide awake and I looked at Tom who was sound asleep and decided I’d go out for a walk in the woods that bordered a bunch of backyards. It wasn’t anyplace I’ve seen around here, but anyway, I “slid” down these hills into the woods and walked around for a while. Then after I climbed back up the hill I was exhausted and realized I lost my bearings and was several houses away from mine. I had to cut through people’s backyards to get to mine, all the while hoping no one saw me and thought I was scouting out homes to break into.

In another dream, I was at some function in which a karaoke contest was being held. All the while I was eyeing this hot-looking security guard, I was trying to debate whether or not I was in the mood to participate in the contest. Then I realized I didn’t have a clue as to what I should sing in the first place.

SUNDAY, MARCH 2, 2014 Yay, I’m able to run again! I’m doing multiple quick bursts of running sprints barefoot on the treadmill, rather than putting on socks and running shoes and going outdoors. It’s raining out there again anyway.

I’m now cooking this chicken recipe I found online in the slow cooker that can be cooked on low for 8 hours or on high for 4. I chose the faster method. I hate carrots and I’m not big on Dijon mustard so I left those ingredients out. I have skinless, boneless chicken breasts mixed in with chicken soup and garlic powder, which I’ll serve over egg noodles when it’s done. It’s enough to feed me 3-6 times depending on whether or not I have 1 or 2 servings at a time. Tom won’t touch it, of course, cuz he hates chicken.

Yesterday, Tom heard the guy working across the street talking on his cell phone. He said something about having about 5 hours of work left but was back again today. I wouldn’t mind if they’d just quit the banging. It’s when they go in and out of their truck slamming doors that gets annoying, but maybe it will stop soon. He left shortly after I got up and hopefully, he won’t return. We saw sheets of plywood being carried in, so maybe they had some rotted floors that needed replacing.

I still have my tan from Maui and I still want to go back. NOW! While Tom and I would visit New England if it were a matter of a simple snap of our fingers, and see my sister, nieces, Andy, Paula, Jessie and my Italian dad, neither of us has any desire whatsoever to go to New England. Besides, in less than a year my sister and nieces should be moved to Florida. Someday we’ll be back in Hawaii, though we may go to a different island. Miss Hates to Travel would go as often as her German cyber hottie goes to Turkey if she could. I guess Nane’s going to Morocco this time around, though, sometime this month.

Looks like Holly’s been checking my blog out again. It will be interesting to see if she returns during the week. She’ll have a lot to talk about tomorrow at work, though, LOL.

Had a Roseville visitor too, but they couldn’t be anyone I know because they went to either Prosebox or Kiwibox where it always says No Page Landing. They shouldn’t know about those accounts.

SATURDAY, MARCH 1, 2014 Decided to share Blogger links on Facebook instead of LJ and have made LJ private since my top troll's back. She didn't contact me but she took a quick peek at my LJ blog, and since LJ is a pain in the ass to block IP#'s on, I blocked her on Blogger instead, cuz I know that if she can't get into LJ, she'll try Blogger.

It also appears I have a local visitor in Loomis and I’m guessing it’s Holly. Second guess would be Shannon, then I guess it would be a tie between The doctor and the dentist. I doubt the good Doc’s assistant would check me out and I doubt Janet, the receptionist would think to do so, so I’m going with Holly cuz she seemed the most talkative, the most interested in her “famous” patient, and the blondest. LOL, you know I always get attention from those I wouldn’t exactly consider the most flattering or interesting, but she was a nice lady and it’s not like she’s ugly or crazy or anything like that.

I remember Shannon said she lives in Citrus Heights so that’s why I doubt it’s her. I’m in Citrus Heights and I’ve never appeared as being in Loomis before, so why would she? It appears to be a pretty nice house in a rural area, a little far out for a doctor or dentist, I would think, but that seems right for a dental hygienist.

A quick check on Zabasearch shows no listing for the Doc or dentist in Loomis, but I can’t check Holly or Shannon cuz I don’t know their last names.

Alison is busy dealing with her own health issues; some gross liquid-like leakage from below what’s left of her breasts, and from her belly button. Gross! I told her that she probably has open sores of some kind that she oughta get checked out right away.

As I told Aly, I deactivated my Twitter because I don’t use it enough and I also don’t want Kim and Molly observing our exchanges.

My poor little toe woke me up a few times during the night and I had to take ibuprofen to dull the pain. I’m still walking funny, which in turn makes my ankle sore, so I’m staying off my feet as much as I can today.

Forgot to say that my BP was through the roof and my pulse was up there too, yesterday at 170/92 and 111, but that was probably just nerves. I’m sure the numbers changed drastically once the good Doc quit stabbing and gouging my toe.

Read a funny article about a real-life Barbie who wants to train herself to eventually live on just air and light and no food or water. rolls eyes And I can’t wait to train myself to fly! I’m gonna do it! You’ll see! Then I’ll fly right over your house and poop on it just like a bird!

We noticed a funny smell in here. Why are we so haunted by bad smells? I asked Tom. The smell of death in Maricopa, rotting wood in Auburn, and now it’s sweaty socks. Turns out our humidifier needs to be treated with a conditioner to stop the smell. Tom tossed some vinegar in it and it smells fine now.

Anyway, the rain has stopped and the sun is out, but the wind is still blowing. The wind chimes are pretty antsy out there right now.

[the141ghost]

Simon didn’t even try stifling his laugh over the fact that Johnny immediately called him out on his shitty description.

He shrugged half-heartedly. “Yeah, well… Not like I’m there enough t’be able to give you a good an’ proper description of the place, am I?”

It was partially true.

He was barely there, there wasn’t exactly any use in leaving around nice furniture for a burglar to take if they ever broke in. But, another reason he didn’t want to put down too solid of roots was because he knew he was already running on borrowed time. Between his life before the military and his life during, it was amazing that he’d managed to avoid kicking the bucket so many times.

He was well overdue a bitter reality check, but for now, it would have to wait.

Now, he had Johnny to think about. He had Johnny to decorate his house for, to get proper, nice furniture for, though he would most likely have to intervene with Simon's shoddy attempts at decorating. Was it even an attempt if you didn’t do it at all, actually? He didn’t think he had a single decoration in the whole house. 

He had the necessities; a mattress, a fridge, a microwave and kettle, and a fully functioning bathroom. There wasn’t an oven in the house when he had moved in, and he’d never bought one to fill the gap between his counters. He wasn’t going to be there, let alone actually use the bloody thing, so why would he waste the money?

Johnny might ask him to buy one. He’d just tell him to pick his favourite, he could use it whenever he stayed over, as much as he’d like.

And Simon decided, very quickly, he’d like it if he stayed over a lot.

He was, unfortunately, very well aware of his… questionable cooking attempts.

Hence why he has a secret stash of Dairylea Lunchables in his office on base, he’d even bought a little fridge for the sole purpose of putting food away. He did typically need to devour at least five of them at a time to sate even the tiniest bit of his hunger, but after that, he would usually manage to find himself some real food.

Johnny… maybe didn’t need to know that yet, actually.

“Alright, you can cook,” he agreed, one corner of his lips curling up into a lazy smile. “So long as I get to watch you.”

The comment about Johnny telling his mum he didn’t want to go with Simon did amuse him, however. While he fought the urge to mock even the idea of Johnny ever saying something like that, he managed out a fairly coherent sentence, though it was still laced with humour.

“Well, whatever little Johnny wants, yeah?” He may have spoken teasingly, but it was the fucking truth. 

Whatever Johnny wanted, Simon would find a way of getting it to him, no matter what it was. Considering that Simon would wholeheartedly say he’d never felt like this about anyone before, Johnny was really shoving him headfirst into the deep end. Simon didn’t have the best survival instincts when it came to the Scot, though. He took it all in, finally allowing himself to stop his lungs from burning and aching, and to just… feel what he’d desperately wanted to for all these years. Like taking that first breath of water when you were drowning, it almost felt like a high. Everything stopped hurting, you weren’t scared anymore.

Simon quite liked the idea of drowning in John MacTavish, and now, he could. He wasn’t scared, not of Johnny.

Never of Johnny.

He didn’t know why, but hearing that Johnny had a ‘thing’ for him nearly elicited a reaction that would have put everything else to shame. Hearing that Johnny loved him? That, quite truthfully, might be what actually kills him.

But, hearing something so casual and yet so much of a turn-on…

Well, that nearly fried Simon’s brain altogether. A thing. What did that even mean? And why was Simon’s entire body flushing with heat at the insinuation of what it might mean?

God, he needed a cold shower…

His touch-starved side only reared its head further when Johnny continued, making him into even more of a blushing mess than he already was. He wondered if he should feel stressed that Johnny’s mother would find out. But, from their brief interaction, she seemed respectful and kind enough. And, she was kind to his Johnny, so as long as Johnny was happy with it, then Simon was, too.

Simon was sure that the first time Johnny referred to him as his boyfriend, he would genuinely die. The crushing warmth that he imagined Johnny saying it with would rival the fucking sun itself. He’d let it all burn to hear those words come from Johnny’s mouth.

It was going to be an absolute minefield to navigate, Simon was sure, especially while at work. He was still Johnny’s superior after all, he wouldn’t want anyone to accuse Johnny of trying to climb the ladder unfairly or him giving Johnny any special treatment—even though he already did.

They’d have to keep sneaking around on base, at least at first. They’d stick to formalities—or as formal as they usually were, changing anything now would just add suspicion—especially around their higher-ups.

Simon would make it work, though. So long as it was Johnny, he’d always make it work.

A small frown teased at his lips as his mind continued to wander. Would Johnny find it hard to take orders from him now? That wasn’t really something that should happen in a relationship, should it? It should be equal, everything, at least that was what Simon had heard. Once they were both better, he’d risk broaching the subject, make sure that Johnny wasn’t getting cold feet about the situation.

Honestly, Simon didn’t find he was too worried about the prospect of having to sneak around while at work. They’d pretty much been doing it anyway, though now they could actually find a private moment to themselves to do things that Simon had only dreamed of doing with Johnny. 

Price clearly approved. If he knew the man well enough, and he liked to think he did, he was probably already making mental plans of what paperwork he needed to edit or ‘lose’ in order to keep his boys safe and secure.

Worst case scenario, he’d have to edit it himself. If, for example, he and Johnny had gotten together when they were both Sergeants and only later had Ghost been promoted to lieutenant…

Well, that wasn’t breaking any rules, and it wasn’t something anyone could try and deny, either.

“You’re probably going to be in here longer than I am, mind you,” Simon began, stretching his legs out with a quiet groan. Everything fucking ached. “Or… at least some hospital. Could always get your surgery recovery done at one closer to my place, get you into PT up there, too. Unless, y’know, you fancied hanging around closer to base while you got fixed up enough to travel. Gaz and Price probably know more about, uh… that kind of thing. Feeling wise.”

Simon really had to fight the urge not to call it ‘our place’ when he was referring to his house. Johnny had shown interest, and that was more than enough for him to hand the fucking keys over then and there.

“A- Johnny, if at any point, you change your mind about all this… Just… Tell me, yeah? I’m a big boy, I can take it.”

It won’t break my heart. It was already broken a long time ago. You would have just given me a little more life, a little more hope. More warmth in a soul that was so frigid I didn’t ever think it would be able to thaw again.

“I’m happy you fancied coming back with me. And… As fucked up as it sounds, Johnny, I’m happy we almost died together. If we hadn’t… Fuck, this wouldn’t have happened, would it? Would’ve just continued dancing around each other until one of us took a round to the head.”

Johnny rolled his eyes at Simon’s ‘description’ of the house. “I asked wha’ it’s like, not what the bleedin’ listing fer it was,” he said with fond exasperation. He didn’t think he was going to get anything better than that out of him though, so he had to make do and imagine from that basic description.

He had always imagined Simon living in a flat in some city, probably either London or Manchester, so to find out he lived in a bungalow in a lovely neighbourhood was a bit of a shock, though not an unpleasant one. It sounded like an idyllic little place, something that was so completely opposite to Ghost that he found himself somehow even more excited to see this place, to explore this corner of Simon’s life that he had apparently predicted completely wrong. It sounded like someone else’s life entirely.

Also, he’d mentioned there was only one bed in the house…

The idea of doing something as normal and boring as going food shopping suddenly sounded like best day plans he’d ever made, if he was doing it with Simon. And going on an IKEA trip with him, too? It sounded perfect, like a couple moving into their first house together.

The thing that really stood out to him, though, was Simon’s mention of ‘every time’. Every time? Like he was already planning for this to be a regular thing, Johnny staying around at his, like it was something they might do every time they had leave. Or maybe even just take leave, unprompted, to spend some time away from work with each other… Now wasn’t a nice thought?

Simon seemed almost shy to be sharing this part of himself with Johnny, like he was nervous he might judge him for it. Which was a ridiculous idea, honestly, because… well, okay, depending on what he saw he might judge him, but it was never going to put him off. If it turned out this place was a shithole? Or that it was as undecorated as his room on base? Well, Johnny would just have to help him redo the place.

As best he could with half his bones broken, that was.

“Aye, that sounds perfect,” he agreed, realising he hadn’t spoken yet, too caught up in his dreaming, “And ye better be lettin’ me cook, I’ve seen some o’ yer attempts here. Disgraceful.”

Johnny was going to reply nicely, until Simon called him that.

“Well, I was gonna say she will be, but maybe just fer tha’ I’ll tell her I dinnae wanna go,” he scoffed, “Bastard.”

But, because he was nice, he still gave Simon a proper answer.

“She’ll be fine wi’ it, don’ worry. She, uh… ye probably already guessed she knows I, y’know, have a thing for ye, bu’ I reckon she’s probably worked out it’s mutual by now, too,” he thought specifically of them staring into each other’s eyes with Johnny’s hand pressed against his heart, “So… when I tell ‘er I’m staying wi’ you, she’ll probably work out we… talked about it.”

He really wasn’t sure what language to be using here. Made it official? Had they done that? Was Simon alright with Johnny calling him his boyfriend, provided it was not in a work context and would not get them into trouble?

God, he hadn’t even thought about that yet. Their relationship was definitely not allowed. How on earth were they going to dodge around that?

[fabulivonline]

Is a Study Table important? Why?

So, do you think that bookish knowledge is all-important to work in a very good company or to open a business? No, nowadays, bookish knowledge is not that important. Students used to work to develop their skills, used to make different contacts, and build their minds when they were in college. So, don’t ever think you are very talented and intelligent if you have 100% of bookish knowledge. This knowledge is not going to help you in any way than to bring grades. So, this is the article for those students who are still in school and studying to pass their exams. The piece of furniture that I am going to tell today is very important for them to study hard and pass their exams with the best grades. 

Usually having this particular piece of furniture is frequently regarded as the most suitable material, especially for similar furniture pieces. This furniture piece is just for children or kids who want to study and they are plain and simple tables that are also used for writing purposes. As education has now almost become online, this particular furniture piece is not used often by students. Among all the woods, solid wood and premium engineered wood are considered the most common types of wood used for these particular furniture pieces. It completely depends on the size of the room or the place where you wanted to place this furniture piece.

They are just simple and plain tables that are used for studying or writing purposes. Many students usually love to decorate their working tables by adding their favorite color schemes. If the person likes bright colors, then he may choose red, green, blue, or green storage containers for making their writing desk or working desk more unique and more creative. Yes, you must have thought that right, that this is nothing but the study table. This table usually helps in organizing books correctly so that it will be much easier for you or your kids to pick anyone and start reading. 

It will definitely depend on the size of the room or the place where it is to be kept and where the children or the students can comfortably study and prepare for their exams. Before buying a study table, you need to make sure about the height. On this writing table, there can be many essential study materials that can be kept comfortably. With this writing table, you should also have one very comfortable chair or a standing desk. The main use of the study table is that it usually helps in organizing the books correctly so that it will be very helpful for kids to pick and choose the book accordingly. An individual will need to spend a considerable amount of time researching on the writing desk to get the right support and comfort.

People should always have peace in their study room so that the children can easily study by giving utmost concentration and dedication. If there is a study table kept in the room, you should also have a chair or a standing desk for kids to sit upon. If you want to study for long hours and that too with dedication and concentration, you need to choose the selected colors for working or the writing table. Generally, a writing table is almost between 26 to 30 inches in height for a very comfortable seating position. There are many kids who cannot feel comfortable studying at the study table but those who feel comfortable studying at the table eventually provide the assurance of comfort to your child. Before buying a writing table, the best way to check the height is to get your child to test the seat and see if he is comfortable or not as he will be the only one to use that entire furniture piece.

If your child studies in the study room or by sitting at the study table, then this practice of studying will always sharpen the mind and also improves concentration. Some of the selected colors for working or the writing desk are green, light green, pastel blue, cream, and white. But it is said to agree that nowadays, luxury home décor has eventually replaced the writing table and most kids use to study sitting on their bed or sofa. If you start studying sitting in the study room, then you will realize that it is a space of dedication where you can sit and study and you will not get disturbed by other people at your home. There is a high chance that if you study sitting on the writing table you will not get distracted just because your sitting position is erect. The most important part to study in a good environment is just to choose the area with minimal interruptions. 

[rynne311]

Pizza and Beer

Summary: When friends move, you help out in exchange for pizza and beer. Those are the rules, even when you don't like beer and you like your friend way more than just a friend.

Word Count: 1353

The offer had been simple enough. Jason offered you pizza and beer if you helped him move. You weren't sure how much help you could actually be, but you weren't about to pass up the chance to spend the day with your friend. Deep down, though, you wished this was a moving in together kind of move instead, but for as well as Jason knew you, he was no mind reader, especially when it came to your feelings for him.

You were surprised when you got out of the moving truck he'd rented to find all of the big furniture had already been moved in. You assumed that meant he'd already moved his gear to avoid any wandering eyes as well. Together, you spent all morning moving all of the smaller boxes in tandem. The time flew by as you both joked around with each pass in the hallway and stairwell.

Before you knew it, every last box was upstairs and you were busying yourself unpacking them while Jason took care of grabbing the pizza he'd promised you. This may not be your home, but you tried to add your personal touch to the apartment.

"Helping reward's here," he announced as he set the pizza box and a couple of beers on the empty coffee table. You made a mental note to grab some large decorative books for him to put there. With a smile, you got up from your spot in front of the bookcase and joined him on the couch for a well deserved break.

The two of you had finished most of the pizza, and were quite satisfied you'd found the best pizza spot in the neighborhood, before Jason noticed he was the only one with an empty bottle. When he looked a little closer he realized you hadn't even touched the beer he'd grabbed for you.

"You good over there?" he asked. You almost thought he might still be joking around and about to make some crack about some pizza spilled on your shirt. When you looked down and confirmed nothing had fallen onto your shirt, you couldn't hide the confusion that painted your face and furrowed your brows together.

"Yeah," you confirmed cautiously. "Why?"

"I mean you've busted your ass all day and now you won't touch your beer," he explained. "You usually go drink for drink with me and now you're not so it seems like something's wrong."

"I'm fine, I promise. I just don't like beer," you explained. His puzzled look begged you to continue. "When we're at the bar I always get mixed drinks or wine. Now if you'd made a pitcher of margaritas, you never would have had a chance to even try them. But a blender really isn't the top of the list to unpack."

You may have answered his question, but you left him with so many more. He brought his own drink to his mouth in an attempt to hide his visible confusion. It almost worked, but you caught the way his brows furrowed from above the bottle.

"It's probably safer this way anyway," you remarked, trying to inject a bit of humor. "You know me and tequila are a dangerous combination. Just like the song, sometimes it just means clothes start falling off."

Jason hummed in absent agreement, but you could tell you'd already lost him. He'd jumped down the rabbit hole of questions, and he wasn't going to be really listening, or at least processing what was said, until he reemerged.

"So why'd you come today?" he asked. "When I asked you, I told you I'd get pizza and beer, so you knew I didn't have anything else to offer, but you still accepted."

It felt like a now or never kind of moment. One of the ones where you could be bold or you could be practical. You mulled over your options for what felt like an eternity, and while you wanted to be bold, you didn't want to lose what you had. Instead of answering, you grabbed another piece of pizza to buy a little time. The eye roll you got in return told you Jason knew exactly what you were doing.

"I thought I could be helpful," you finally answered as you finished your slice.

"That doesn't feel like the whole answer," Jason scoffed.

"Maybe," you confirmed. "But it also begs the question why you asked me to come help today if you already had everything moved in up here but some boxes in a half empty moving truck, or why I'm the only person you asked to come help you?"

Taking a page out of your book, Jason snagged your untouched beer to avoid having to answer.

"You want a full answer? I'll give you as full an answer as you'll get for right now," you began. Now it seemed you may have finally found the courage to be bold. "I wanted to spend time with you. You're always off wrangling supervillains and drug lords, which don't get me wrong is great and all. It has dropped the number of break-ins in my building to almost none. But that doesn't mean I don't miss you, because I do. I always do. A lot."

He started to choke on his drink, telling you you'd given a little more of an answer than you'd wanted to give. You couldn't say you were a fan of this emotional vulnerability, but your chest did feel ever so slightly lighter. You tried to read his face for a moment for some sort of reciprocation, but feeling the heat rise in your own face forced you to turn back to your empty plate. Your eyes only darted back over to him once you heard the bottle connect with the table.

"Maybe I wanted to spend time with you too. Maybe I didn't want all of the noise with my brothers and Roy around, especially when they manage to break something." With each 'maybe,' his voice grew a little more pointed and defensive, and you thought you could see a vulnerability that mirrored your own in his eyes. "Maybe I wanted this place to have your touch and feel like you. Maybe -"

You cut him off, leaning across the couch and kissing him. It was too rare in life that you got a second chance on a now or never moment, and you didn't want to squander it. You could only describe the feeling as a wave of excitement followed by a rush of relief when he raised his hand to your face and pulled you closer, returning the kiss.

"Maybe," his voice was softer now, almost cracking, "Maybe I've wanted that to happen for a very long time."

You felt breathless, but that didn't stop the smile from growing across your face. This time when you looked in his eyes, they seemed to share your mixture of excitement and relief. You couldn't help yourself as a small chuckle broke through.

"You like me, you really, really like me," you teased in a sing-song voice, only pausing to make kissy noises in the air. "You like -"

Having had his own feelings confirmed, Jason cut off your teasing as he pulled you into another kiss. When you both finally let go, he kept his forehead pressed to yours, watching as your eyes shifted back into focus. He wore a self-assured grin as he said, "There's no maybe about that."

"No, I don't think there is," you agreed. You sat back a little, trying to sear this moment into your memory forever. "Who would've thought a stupid beer could make this happen?"

"I should have brought you some beer to not drink ages ago," he joked, pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You settled into your contentment in his arms, knowing now you may never have to leave this feeling again. "Next time I'll have tequila, it sounded like those consequences are fun."

You rolled your eyes in response as you wiggled a little closer into his side. Yeah, some post-margarita consequences now sounded a lot more appealing.

Tags:

Everything: @societiesholyskittle @pickyblue12 @icycoldbeanieweanies @thoughtfullychaoticdreamer @bloatedandlonly @sakurafille @jason-todd-squad @childofposeidonforlife @webcraft4eveh @bookish-and-shy @dnarez @thirstiestpotato

Jason: @jason-todd-rh @princessowly1234 @manymanyenvelopes @drarrylov3r @axa-vega

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[beyondspaceandstars]

Halloween Decorations

Relationship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff! Summary: After you and Natasha buy your first house, you go a little crazy decorating it for Halloween but your girlfriend is a bit hesitant about it. A/N: early Halloween one shot?! I’m sorry I can’t help myself! I love autumn and this is just a short and sweet thing :) and i love domestic WLW fics im sorry djfalkdjfs

Masterlist

You nearly couldn’t believe it when you and Natasha had finally closed on a house. It was something so monumental that had felt light-years away. You two had been through so much with her Avengers work and your job as a nurse, something as peaceful and quaint as a home seemed ridiculous.

But apparently it wasn’t. The home was your reality. Life in the suburbs was your reality. And you were absolutely obsessed.

You and Natasha hadn’t had many items when it came to actually moving in. Natasha was naturally a minimalist having been on the move constantly in her life while you were coming from a studio apartment. You had practically been forced to downsize upon leaving your parents’ home but that all could change.

You could shop and decorate to your heart’s content — and Natasha’s as well, even though she didn’t seem very interested. It had taken you days to convince her to go couch shopping with you and when that task alone proved to be annoying you didn’t inquire much from her about the rest of the furniture. She just accepted it all, never complaining or batting much of an eye. It had annoyed you a bit that your girlfriend didn’t appear to be interested in the making of the home but you slowly realized this was just out of her wheelhouse. She wasn’t uninterested as so much as she didn’t know how to respond. A milestone like this was probably something she never thought about and you accepted that, taking it step-by-step.

So, for that obvious reason, you took on the rest of the decorating. From plants to bins to throw pillows, the shell of a house was slowly becoming a home. A real place for you and Nat to start a life.

One of the things you had been most looking forward to upon having a home was the holidays. Not only were you excited to host Thanksgiving or Christmas, but you were also excited to decorate for it all. Your decoration needs hadn’t been fulfilled with just some hand towels and motivational quotes. You wanted to dive into the holidays, really get the whole house in the mood.

When you had brought this up with Natasha, as expected, she didn’t match your enthusiasm.

"Halloween? You’re making a list for Halloween decorations?"

You had nodded, jotting down a reminder to get some fake skeletons and spider rings.

"We have to decorate for Halloween," you had explained. "If we don’t we won’t get any trick-or-treaters."

Natasha had sighed, sitting across from you at the kitchen table. "It’s just… Haven’t you already spent the past few months decorating this place? Don’t you want a break? We could skip one Halloween."

You had gasped, waving your hand in dismissal. "That’s insane. Of course, we have to decorate. It’s one of the coolest holidays to decorate for!"

Despite your attempt at persuasion, Natasha hadn’t been convinced, just shaking her head as she sipped her coffee, eyeing you over the mug. You had gotten quite used to your girlfriend’s pessimism towards little things here and there. She was a guarded person, one night to enjoy something and who knew what could happen? But you felt she’d come around at some point. She couldn’t sit in a house full of hanging fake ghosts and tiny pumpkins and not be a little pleased.

You spent nearly your entire Saturday shopping for decorations. You lugged in the bags carefully, surprising Natasha who was sitting at the kitchen counter doing some paperwork.

She eyed the items are you placed them on the counter beside her laptop. "Did you buy up the entire store?"

You chuckled. "Just about! And this is only the indoor stuff. I have outdoor decorations in the garage already."

Natasha’s eyes grew wide at that. "Really, honey? Don’t you think maybe it’s a bit…much?"

You waved a hand in dismissal. "Absolutely not. It’s going to make our home all festive and cozy."

"Okay," your girlfriend shrugged as she turned back to her work. You took that chance to get started on the decorating. You began pulling out some window clings you had found. You had quite the variety: blood splatters, ghosts, witches, everything to slap up on your windows for anyone passing by to see.

Once the windows were done, you moved onto the lights. You had found some cute little skeleton hanging lights to decorate with around the windows. Then there were the orange and purple ones you began stringing up around the living room. You could feel Natasha eyeing you curiously as you went but you ignored her, happily humming away decorating the space.

After the lights came the nick-knacks and wall decor. You had found the cutest little arrangement of ghosts to put around on random shelves in the home. They would peek out from behind little photos and vases. You thought one would look really nice on the big bookshelf you had bought for the place but as you began putting it up there you realized you were slightly too short. You frowned and went to go hunt for a chair when you saw Natasha standing in the doorway, holding out a stool for you.

You shuffled over to her, looking at the little stool she brought.

"Need some help?" She asked, a bit shyly. You grinned.

"Are you asking if you can put up Halloween decorations?"

Natasha scoffed as if that wasn't exactly what she was asking. "N-No," she insisted. "I was just seeing if you need some help with that one. And-And maybe you'll need a stool for hanging those signs you brought." She tried to casually motion over to the bag of decorative wall signs you had bought. The one staring at you two said: "Broom Parking" which you just thought was the funniest. You couldn't help the smile forming on your face now.

"It's okay if you'd like to help decorate for Halloween, Natasha," you said, taking the stool from her and made your back to the bookshelf. Your girlfriend let out a sigh and followed you. She became your little spotter as you climbed up to put the last of the ceramic ghosts up.

"I was just watching you put everything up and... and you shouldn't have to do it alone," Natasha said. She held out her hand to help you down. You accepted. "This is our home and it should be decorated. Especially for Halloween."

Your heart swelled with such pride hearing her say that. You just about started crying which you knew was going to make Natasha scoff at so you hid it by throwing your arms around her. She jumped a bit at the action but eventually, her arms made their way around your waist.

"Thank you," you mumbled into her neck.

Natasha chuckled. "I didn't do anything."

You pulled away and brought one hand up to her face. Your girlfriend looked quite confused but you ignored it and said, "You're trying. You're trying to get comfortable here and let down your guard. It's okay, you know. You can do it. We can have this home, we deserve it."

Natasha gave a small smile. "Okay, babe." That was all she said but it was enough. You hadn't expected more and you knew she probably was not feeling this sappy moment so you pressed a light kiss to her cheek then headed back towards the Halloween decorations. You pulled out the faux-wood sign declaring a spot for witches to park their brooms.

"Now," you turned towards your girlfriend, "do we hang this in the living room?"

She shook her head. "We should hang it by the shoe rack."

You let out a loud laugh. "I knew you had a knack for decorating."

Your girlfriend blushed as she began pulling out some of the temporary hooks you had bought to hang the signs. "Just don't tell anyone."

"I make no promises," you smirked. "I'm gonna tell the team you want to redecorate the compound."

Natasha opened her mouth to protest but then abruptly stopped. She seemed to be considering it for a second. "Actually, do it. I think I have a few ideas." She wore a devious smirk that made you not even want to ask what was going through that big brain of hers.

You shook your head. "You're such trouble."

"Hmm," Natasha hummed as she stuck the little plastic hook to the wall. "But you love me."

The sign was placed perfectly on the wall, right above where you threw your shoes next to the door. You turned to your girlfriend and threw an arm around her. She leaned into you, letting out a content sigh.

"That I do," you mumbled. "I really do."

[agirlwhoisaphantom]

To Build a Home - Bucky Barnes x Pregnant!Reader

To Build a Home - Bucky Barnes x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Going baby shopping should be a great idea? Right? But things take a turn. You share a cute moment with Bucky as you read the pregnancy book he claims he bought for you. This ends with a moment with you and Bucky in the baby room.

Word Count: 3400

Warnings: Fluff, also a hint of insecurities and thinking about the past. Pregnant!Reader

a/n: This is Part 2 to my one shot. Read part one “Turning Page- Bucky Barnes x Reader” Anyhow, Part two will be taking place when you are 6 months pregnant. You and Bucky get a little bit of help from some friends. Also, I would like to apologize for the first section of this, it might hurt a bit.

Five months later

Blue, Pink, Red, Purple, you could see every color of the rainbow on all four store walls.

Steve thought it was a great idea for you, Wanda, and Bucky to go to a baby store. You and Wanda were so excited to go and look at baby items. Meanwhile, Bucky's face was blank as a ghost. Even though it has been five months since him finding out you were pregnant, it still catches him by surprise that he'll be a dad in a couple of weeks.

In the store, Bucky and Steve were together looking at furniture since they were the 'strong one' out of the group. Meanwhile, you and Wanda were looking at baby clothes, plushies, blankets, and decorations. Without hesitation, you gravitated more towards the boy section than the girl section. Even though you and Bucky wanted to wait until they were born to find out their gender, deep down, you knew they are a baby boy. The first thing you get is a pair of suspender top and bottom set that came with a bowtie. The shorts were the color khaki and the shirt was light blue. You turn to Wanda to show her what you found. "Look what I found for him." your heart filled with joy and happiness. You had a soft smile on your face.

Wanda grabs the piece that you were holding and places it against your stomach "he is going to look handsome" she smiled and scrunched her nose. She was truly happy for you and glad that you picked her to help you throughout this journey.

Across the store, where the furniture was located, Bucky and Steve were looking at furniture. Bucky was tense; he wasn't sure if he wanted to be there looking at baby items. He stared at the same baby crib for the past 3 minutes when Steve notices that he wasn't doing anything "hey, is everything alright?" he pauses to place his hand on Bucky's shoulder. "I know this is new to you and something you least expected to happen. But you deserve this."

Bucky started to shake his head, and slowly tears form in his eyes "are you sure about this, Steve?" his voice gets small and shaky. "Just a decade ago, I was murdering people without my own will. Do I deserve this happiness? What if they don't like me because of my past?" His lips were trembling as if he were to let out a sob- but he never did. His nose twitched as his mouth suddenly became agape, and he drew in a breath of air sharply, turning his neck towards the entrance. He started to pull on the sleeve of his left arm, trying to cover his metal hand. "I can't do this. I need to get out of here" He rushes out of the furniture section towards the store's entrance.

Wanda notices that Steve and Bucky were walking fast out of the store. Steve gives her a look and holds up a finger. She tried reading his mind to see what was going on, but all she caught was "give me a moment to calm him down, he had a panic attack" she had a concerned look on her face, but she knew Steve would be able to handle it.

You notice that Wanda had a concerned look on her face as she wasn't paying attention to what you were saying. "Wanda, are you okay?" a frown formed on your face as you were looking around the store looking for Bucky. He was gone. "Where is he?" you raise your voices a bit. "Wanda, where is he?" you were demanding her to give you an answer. She points towards the entrance. You gave her the clothes that you were holding. You sped walk towards the door.

Outside of the store, Bucky was sitting on the floor, knees by his chest, heavy breathing, hiding his face from the outside world. You could hear Steve trying to calm him down, telling him things that would usually calm him, but this time it was different. Steve notices that you were there and gets near you to hug you. He leans forward "are you sure about this? I tried everything I could. He hasn't been able to calm down," he whispers into your ear. Letting go of his hug, you have a brief smile and a nod. He walks back to the store to find Wanda and let her know what is happening.

You kneel, placing your hands on his knees. You were now able to hear how heavy he was breathing. “Bucky?” you slowly move your thumb against his knee, trying to calm him down “what’s wrong, my love? What’s going on?” he lifts his head and looks at you, his face red and his eyes puffy from the crying he had been doing for the past couple of minutes. Moving your hand from his knee, you place it on his cheek, wiping the tears from his face using your thumb. “hey, hey, Bucky, it’s okay” Your eyebrows knit together. You hated seeing him like this.

“I don’t deserve this happiness, not after everything I’ve done” his lips were quivering, his voice became small “they aren’t going to like me. I’m just a monster.” tears falling down his cheeks. He pulls you in, holding you, wrapping his arms around you. He was sobbing on your shoulder. Now the material of your shirt was soaking wet. “I’m sorry. I’m so-“

You interrupt him. “James, what you did. That wasn’t you, that was never you. One thing I’ll tell you is that you deserve every little inch of happiness; you deserve to be happy.” You take a pause holding him tighter and trying to stop your voice from being shaky. “I know this is scary. I’m scared as well. But one thing I know for sure is that even though we will try to be the perfect parents in the world, we aren’t going to be, and that’s okay. They are going to love us and our imperfections” you gently pull away, still holding him in your arms, you softly press your lips against his forehead to calm him down.

You held him for a couple of minutes. You wanted to make sure that he was okay. There was silence between the two of you, but you didn't mind. Within minutes, his heartbeat slowed, and he started to breathe normally. He turns his head, giving you a brief kiss on your cheek. “I appreciate you so much, doll” he takes a big gulp before continuing talking. “Should we ditch them and go somewhere else?” a soft giggle escapes his mouth. “I’m kidding. Let’s go and pick things for our little one.”

With your sleeve, you wipe the tears from his face. He grabs your wrist and stops you from continuing. He brings the palm of your hand and softly kisses it, then he lets go of it, so you can continue.

As he was getting up, he helped you get up as well. He was grabbing your hand and pulling you upward. Every little move that he has done with you, he has tried his best not to hurt you.

You both stood outside holding one other for a couple of minutes until you were able to notice that Bucky’s face didn’t look like he had been crying for the past couple of minutes.

Once you walked into the store, it was fast to locate Steve and Wanda, as Steve had a pile of clothes over his shoulder, a mixer of girl and boy clothes. And Wanda with a cart full of baby items. “Are you sure we are having a baby and not them?” you and Bucky were in synch “jinx, no, you jinx.” you both said that once again. This caused you and him to laugh out loud. Wanda turns around and rushes with the cart in your direction. She seemed like a little kid showing their parents the toy she had just found. Steve was getting the clothes that were on his shoulder, placing them all in his arms.

Once Wanda was near you, her face lit up as bright as a firework. “I and Steve both agreed that for this trip, we are buying all of this plus whatever you guys want.” Wanda was breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath “consider this as an early baby shower gift” she starts pulling out items from the cart and showing you her favorite items. Once Steve got to where you all were, he dumps the pile of clothes in the cart. “Steve! I was still showing her thing” she rolled her eyes, and this made Bucky and Steve laugh.

Steve looks at Bucky. “I’m guessing you are feeling better, aren’t you” Bucky gives him a brief smile and nods.

You grab Bucky’s hand and start to walk towards the furniture section. You pointed at a white three-in-one convertible crib “Honey, We should get this one” your voice was small yet soft with sparkles in your eyes. A smile formed on his face, and he nodded in agreement. Anything that you liked, he would usually like it as well.

-----------------------------------------------

What a long day today was, you thought to yourself. You were now home resting. Wanda, Steve, and Bucky made sure to put everything away in the baby room. 

Every little chance that Bucky gets, he can't keep his hands off of your stomach. He wanted to be there for everything, the first kick, the first movement they ever make. He didn't want to miss anything.

You were sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, reading a pregnancy book that Bucky decided to buy for you. He bought it for himself since he wanted to be prepared for everything that might happen. But he is too stubborn to admit it, so he bought the book for you. 

Bucky was sitting right next to you, laying his head on your right shoulder, trying to read along to what you might be on. His right hand placed on your stomach, moving in a circular motion.  

Page 34

Around 18 weeks of pregnancy, your little one hears their very first sounds. By 24 weeks, those little ears are rapidly developing. Your baby's sensitivity to sound will improve even more as the weeks pass. 

"Did you know that he can hear you already?" you asked. You were looking down at him, and his ocean blue eyes were looking back at you. You pointed to the location where it stated that they were able to hear at certain weeks. 

With a small smile on his face and his left eyebrow risen "he? I think they are a girl" he giggles a little "but if my baby girl says we are having a boy, then I believe it's time for me and him to have a one-on-one talk" he leans in forward to kiss you on your cheek. 

He slow removes the blanket that was covering your stomach and kisses your stomach, placing his right hand on your lower stomach. “hey, I don’t think mommy can hear us,” he was whispering while looking up to you. You had a smile on your face while you shacked your head. “I can’t wait to have you in my arms, little Leo” he pauses for a moment and has the biggest smile on his face, “When you grow up, I’m going to tell you so many stories about my adventures with your uncle Steve and uncle Sam. I can’t forget about those stories with your beautiful, strong, amazing mommy” He looks up at you with a smirk on his face. You started running your fingers through his hair, feeling how soft it was. “Leo, could you believe it that right now, the world is a crazy place to be at? But at this moment, you are safe in there. Mommy and daddy will always keep you safe. No matter what happens, we will always protect you.”

He moves back to where he was resting his head on your shoulder, not moving his right arm from where it was located. “How was your talk with baby-“you pause for a moment, trying to process what just happened. “Leo?”

Bucky looks at you, slightly shaking his with left eyebrow rose. It looked like he had a soft disappointed face. “Doll, you weren’t supposed to listen to me and him having a boy talk” he stops shaking his head, and gradually a smile on his face started to form. “Yeah, Leo. I’ve always liked the name Leo” he paused, and a small frown started to show. “You don’t like it. If you don’t, we can-“

Pressing your lips against his forehead, you interrupt him. You knew what he was going to say “No, I love the name, Leo.” It seemed like he had read your mind. That was the name that you had a plan on naming your future baby boy. Removing your lips against his skin and a soft giggle escapes your lips “so are you planning on telling him about your little rolling over with Sam that one time?”

Bucky looks up to you, and he had an offended look on his face. “I’m certainly not telling him that,” he pauses to place his head back on your shoulder. “There are things he doesn’t need to know, and that is one of them.”

Out of a sudden, you can feel a sharp pain on your lower stomach where Bucky’s hand was placed. This caught him by surprise. “Did Leo just kick?” you can feel the excitement from his voice. You giggled a little in agreement “he kicks hard, aww, he is a strong boy. Just like his daddy” his voice went high pitched as he was talking towards your stomach.

Minutes pass by from the last time they kicked, and Bucky felt every little kick they did. It pained you but seeing him and the reaction he had on his face. The amusement written all over Bucky’s face was worth it, the pain they caused you. You have always thought of naming your baby girl Rebecca. You have liked that name for years. Also, you knew how close Bucky was to his sister, and you wanted her to be named by someone he holds dear to his heart.

You take a deep breath, unsure if you wanted to say anything. “Honey, if we have a baby girl. What are your thoughts on the name Rebecca?” you tense up a little, not knowing what other words to say. “I know how much your sister meant to you, and I just thought that-“

Bucky looks up at you and places his hand on the back of your head, pulling in you. Pressing his lips against yours, he gently and carefully kissed you. Pulling away from your lips, he had the biggest smile on his face. “Doll, I love that” He moves his hand from the back of your head to your lower stomach once again. “Rebecca isn’t allowed to date until she is 30,” he laughs, scrunching his nose. He loved that you considered naming her Rebecca. Bucky never thought about naming her that. He slowly moves his hand in circular motions. “Our little princess is going to be such a beautiful little girl, just like her mom.”

--------------------------------------

“Come on, cyborg, use your metal arm. You have it there for a reason.”

“Do you think that most of the time I remember that I have a metal arm? I’m fucking right-handed, Sam, not left-handed.”

“I swear to god if you guys wake her up. I am going to quit. Buck finish building the crib, and Sam paint the wall.”

Suppose the walls couldn’t be any thinner. You could hear Sam, Bucky, and Steve arguing in the room next door. You lay in bed for a couple of more minutes just listening to them. You were covering your mouth, trying your best not to burst into laughter. Before getting up, you took big breaths trying to control your laughter.

As you were opening the door, you notice Steve leaving the baby room. “See what you both idiots did? You woke her up” he sounded annoyed and irritated. He walks into the kitchen, grabbing his cup of coffee that he left on the counter. “Good morning, did you sleep well last night?” He takes a sip of coffee, placing his full attention on you.

You had the biggest grin on your face, and you tried to compose yourself, making sure you didn’t laugh. “I slept great. What are you guys doing at 9 am” you walk to the kitchen opening the fridge and gathering the ingredients to make a sandwich.

“What do you mean what we both did? It was all- oh” Bucky notices that you were awake preparing yourself food. He gets near you and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer so he can give you a brief kiss on your head. “Good morning, doll. I’m sorry if we woke you up” he takes the sandwich that you prepared and takes a bite out of it.

Watching him take a bite from the sandwich you had prepared yourself made you a bit upset. You crossed your arms and walked away with the sandwich he just bit. “First, he wakes me up, and then he takes a bite of my sandwich.” you thought to yourself. You had a frown on your face.

Steve looks in Bucky’s direction continuing drinking the last bit of his coffee with his eyebrows lifted. Then it clicked to Bucky that he had messed up, so he quickly turns around and prepares another sandwich. He opens the fridge and grabs your favorite chocolate, and speed walks in your direction. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken a bite” he hands you the sandwich he prepared and the chocolate “here you go, doll. I’m going to go finish up the crib.” He points to the direction of the bedroom.

Before he could walk away from you, you grab his wrist “can I come help with whatever you guys might be doing” you knit your eyebrows together and push your bottom lip forward, making a pouty face. “Please” you knew that he couldn’t say no to you when you did this facial expression.

He takes your hand and starts walking to the bedroom. You see Sam on a ladder with a paint roller in his hands “sorry, we woke you up” you go near him and hand him the sandwich that Bucky made for you “thank you, you didn’t have to make this for me.” he gave you a brief smile.

Bucky had a blank stare, and his facial expression read ‘really.’ You giggled a little “I didn’t make it. Bucky did,” you whisper and placed your hand on your cheek, trying to cover your lips and from what you were going to say next “so if it tastes bad, that’s why,” you whispered and scrunched your nose.

“I heard that” Bucky sounded annoyed and had a frown formed on his face.

This made you and Sam laugh for a couple of minutes.

You walk towards Bucky wrapping your arms around him and getting on your toes to kiss him on his chin. “You know I’m just messing with you.” Still pressing your lips against his skin, “You are an amazing cook, and your sandwiches are always going to be my favorite” a little smile formed on your face while your lips were still pressed on his skin.

You walk towards the dresser where a bag full of baby clothes was at and you start organizing them by pajamas, formal, underwear, casual category.

Sam and Steve both left to take a mini-break. But Bucky, he stayed with you, he wanted to make sure that you were safe, and if you needed anything, he would be there for you. Looking through the bag, you found the pair of suspender top and bottom set that came with a bowtie. You turn around to showed Bucky the little outfit. “Honey, look, Leo is going to look so adorable in this” you place the outfit against your stomach.

He had a smirk on his face and nodded. You couldn’t wait till the day comes where you can hold them in your arms.

[wheelsup]

coffee is the sixth love language | part two

Summary: Over three cups of coffee, Spencer realized his feelings for you. And over three cups of coffee, he acts on them. gn!Reader.

A/N: the italicized this time indicates Spencer’s thoughts, not reader’s. part of this story is inspired directly from these comments made by @doctorthreephds on the reblog! thanks for letting me incorporate them :)

category: fluff, sfw

warnings: technically none, but the “profiling” part is kind of a reach.

word count: 3k

     Once Spencer was firmly resolute on asking you out, he knew he wanted it to be special in a way that only the two of you could appreciate. He realized that he had yet to be the one bringing you coffee, and so it felt only right that it should be how he makes his first move. He woke up extra early on a weekday morning to stop by your favorite coffee shop on his way to work because he knew you loved their banana nut muffins and double-brewed coffee. It was an extra twenty-five minutes out of the way for work each way, so you only got to go there on the rare occasion that you had a day off and were not out of town on a case. It might have been ridiculous to drive fifty minutes for a single damn muffin, but Spencer wanted to make this perfect for you by any means necessary. This was one of the special times that Spencer drove his car, needing the extra speed in order to complete his mission.

     He picked up your regular drink order and the muffin and was anxiously on his way back to Quantico. As per his plan he arrived at the office before you did, though not too much earlier because he wanted to make sure your coffee was still hot by the time you got it. If Spencer’s calculations were correct - which they almost always were - you would arrive within a two to four and a half minute window from when he did. Spencer took out a sharpie from his desk drawer and delicately scrawled a message onto the top corner of the pastry bag holding your muffin. He thought it felt like something out of a cheesy romance novel, the kind of novels that you could find in the fifty cent clearance bins, but dammit if Spencer didn’t deserve a little cheesy romance in his life. The other benefit of this was that he thought he would almost certainly choke on his words if he had to ask you himself. He set the two items on your desk and returned to his own to sit and observe. Spencer hoped it would be the first of many coffees he could buy you.

It wasn’t until you had already walked into the bullpen and were halfway to your desk that Spencer realized he had forgotten to sign his name to the bag. How were you supposed to react to him asking you out if you didn’t actually know it was him? And oh God, he left unsealed food on the desk of an FBI agent, with no indication of who had put it there. That is infinitely more suspicious than it is romantic. He wouldn’t be surprised if she took it straight to the trash can. So long for cheesy romance, Dr. Reid.

     But Spencer was absolutely elated when your first reaction was to peek into the bag and gasp out of joy at what was inside. He watched you break off a piece of your beloved banana nut muffin and chew it gleefully, and all he could think of was how cute you looked when you were happy. Shortly followed by concern that a federal agent would so readily eat unmarked food that could have been tampered with. That’s something I should bring up to her on the date. 

     Spencer’s stomach was in knots not knowing if you would pick up on the message. You swallowed that chunk of the muffin and turned the bag over to find an almost illegible black script that you had nearly missed: Would you like to have coffee with me? It just felt like all of the air had been knocked out of your body. 

     It didn’t even take you half a second to know who this was from; there were so many tells it was Spencer. Before you even noticed the note, you knew it was from him when you saw what was inside the bag. The whole team knew what your favorite coffee shop was because you had talked about it enough times. Hell, you even owned a oversized tee with their name on it that you kept in your go bag as a sleep shirt. But nobody knew what your favorite muffin was because you never mentioned it. In fact, if you thought about it there were maybe only a handful of times over the six months you’d been at the BAU that you even elected to eat this pastry in lieu of a real breakfast. But if anyone was going to detect a pattern, it would have been Dr. Reid. Of course he would pick up on the fact that you only picked those out at cafes when you felt like having a sweet treat, or that when Penelope brought in baked goods for the office you would only indulge if you saw your favorite item in the lineup. 

     You already knew it, but in case you had any doubt, the note itself confirmed your theory twice. One indicator was the phrasing choice would you as opposed to will you. Use of would posits a hypothetical, as in hypothetically, would you have an interest in drinking coffee together, rather than a hard, come with me to get coffee. The hesitance in the tone came off as if the sender were testing the waters, wanting to put the idea out there without coming off as too strong. Because it was reserved, it gave you room to think if you would genuinely enjoy doing so as opposed to making you feel like you should oblige. That level of respect screamed Spencer to you. And though it was so glaringly obvious, if you needed some concrete evidence it was the fact that nobody else had such endearingly atrocious handwriting like Dr. Reid. It was something you always found hilariously ironic for a man who often analyzes other people’s writing styles for work. You wondered what his way of scribbling said about him, and hoped he could tell you on that date of yours. 

     You looked straight at him, finding that his eyes were already fixed on you.

     “Yes.” 

     One word was all you had to say to make the lump in Spencer’s throat disappear, replaced by the sensation that his heart was leaping out of his chest. He was going to keep that memory stored in his brain forever, just to replay the moment when the future of your relationship changed with a simple word. Little did he know that when you finished that muffin, you neatly folded the pastry bag and tucked it into your desk drawer, saving it for the exact same purpose. 

_____

     Spencer had gotten to see your favorite coffee spot already, so for your date you requested that he take you to his to make it even. It was small, but incredibly cozy under the soft ambiance provided by string lights and charm of their mismatched furniture. There was one exposed brick wall adjacent to another that was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf; it housed copies that loyal patrons left behind for others to pick up. All of those books had different colors of post-its peeking out from the pages. It was almost too eclectic and disorganized for what you would expect Dr. Reid to be into, but at the same time it made perfect sense to you.

     “You know, I think I just learned something about you.” You leaned gently into his side to tell him, both hands wrapped around your coffee cup because you were too nervous to know what else to do with them. Spencer was the kind of guy to sit adjacent to you at a table, rather than across, and you loved that about him. You loved having him as close to you as possible. 

     Spencer’s lips pulled at the edges to form a perfect, lazy smile. “What did you learn about me?” The team had an agreement not to profile each other, but under your gaze, Spencer never felt the kind of scrutiny that came with picking people apart. He trusted that whatever you had to say was going to be kind.

     “I think this place says so much about you. Something about how all those books are donations passed on from locals, and that people feel comfortable taking a book off the shelf and opening it up to read what others recommend. The fact that they leave little notes in it for the next reader to share what those stories meant to each of them. Nobody asked those people to do that, but they all chose to take part in these small actions that ended up creating an entire community.” It was one of the most beautifully human things you’d ever witnessed. A group of people engaging in understated and innocent gestures of love between perfect strangers, completely unprompted. “I think you value simple acts, the kind that can take on profound meaning without even intending to. Like when silence feels so comfortable when you’re with the right person.” You paused to take in his reaction as a gauge for how right or wrong you may be. He gave no objection to what you had posited, eyes simply glued to you in intense focus. Spencer was hanging on everything you said, wordlessly encouraging you to divulge more theories you’d developed on him.

     “And, visually, this furniture reminds me of a family home. The kind where some items were handed down for generations, some bought new, and others gifted by a distant relative who has no idea what the family likes.” Spencer’s soft laughter mirrored your own at your very accurate description of the shop’s decor. The room truly could not be more disjointed in its aesthetic, but that was entirely its charm. “It probably reflects that there are some aspects of your life that just don’t make sense to you, that almost seem to conflict with each other. For a guy so smart, I’m sure it’s scary to feel like you don’t understand something, and there are probably dark spots in that brain of yours that you try to hide from the world. But in this room, these things that don’t seem like they work together actually amount to something so lovely. And just like the charmingly hideous suede couch and the oddly fur-covered armchairs, every facet of you deserves appreciation because without them you wouldn’t make up to be the beautiful person you are overall.” 

     Neither of you could pinpoint the moment which your hands had drifted together, fingers loosely intertwined in gentle embrace. There was too much to unpack in what you had said for Spencer to know where to begin. The only thing he could say for sure was that he was astounded by how deeply you understood him without him ever saying any of those things. He considered that maybe you understood him better than he did himself and wished that he could spend his whole life observing the world through the same rose-tinted lenses with which you viewed him. At a loss for words, Spencer chose not to say any right then. The silence I have with you is the most comfortable I’ve ever had. 

_____

     After each of you consumed one too many caffeinated beverages, you still were not prepared to let the date end. You were willing to sit there and have as many espresso drinks as you could to keep talking to Spencer. 

     The universe must have been in support of your romance as the overcast skies broke and began to rain just minutes after the two of you had left the shop. Spencer was walking you back to your apartment, clearly forcing his long legs to slow down their naturally fast stride so to extend how long it took to get there. He could get an extra thirteen minutes with you this way. Spencer was given his perfect excuse to keep the date going in the form of heavy downpour; his apartment was far closer than yours, and he proposed you two should seek shelter together until it stopped. I hope it never stops. 

     Spencer held tightly onto your hand as he ran with you through the rain, giggling all the way to his apartment. He may not like wet, cold climates, but he sure did like holding your hand. Being next to you made him feel incredibly warm somehow when the temperature outside was very much not. And you felt completely at peace sitting on Spencer’s couch wearing one of his sweaters that he lent you. Truthfully, your own clothes weren’t so wet from the rain that it was necessary, but you both pretended it absolutely was just to be able to experience this. 

     It was clear that the rain would be going for a while and all you wanted to do to pass the time was continue listening to Spencer talk. You discovered that when he’s not interrupted, he loves to go on runaway tangents, often bouncing between different trains of thought as one idea sparked him to remember another. It was almost a sport to keep up with him, but it was perhaps the only one you’ve ever enjoyed. It was so easy when everything he said interested you. You loved that Spencer taught you something new every day, but no matter how niche a piece of trivia or shocking an unknown fact was, it could not beat the things that he taught you about himself. He was letting you in on so many unseen dimensions of himself whether he knew it or not, the explicit ones revealing implicit ones. 

     You had happily stayed in his home for hours, absorbing every word he spoke. What entertained you the most was the ability of your conversation to jump from deep, serious places to lighthearted stories filled with jokes and teasing and back again in a way that felt completely natural. Your favorite anecdote of his was the story of how he got addicted to coffee. It was the BAU’s favorite inside-joke that Spencer liked his coffee sickeningly sweet and you always wondered how he could tolerate it. Just looking at it made your teeth ache. When he told you why, you thought that the backstory was even sweeter than the coffee.

     As a twelve year old college student, Spencer found himself experiencing sleep deprivation for the first time in his life. The course load was more rigorous than he had in high school and even the boy genius needed to readjust to the new expectations of college. More importantly, he needed to cope with pulling late nights at the library if he wanted his first degree by the time he was eligible for a driver’s license. The Red Bulls that the other kids seem to gravitate to seemed far too aggressive for Spencer, their potent smell of chemicals a huge turn off. They were definitely not for him. 

     He remembered how often his mom used to drink coffee, always in the morning while Spencer got ready for school. Being at CalTech and away from his mother, who remained in Las Vegas most of the time due to her condition, made him so homesick that he took up a coffee habit as a reminder of her. He loved the way it smelled like every comfort he had ever known. 

     Though he appreciated its smell, Spencer, of course, was not ready back then to love the way it tasted. He was still after all a twelve year old boy who had a sweet tooth like any other kid. The bitter drink was almost offensive to him, so he always made his coffee with extra, extra sugar. He was a menace to the baristas at the campus coffee cart because they would have to refill the shaker every time he stopped by. As it turned out, Spencer was actually a little troublemaker in his youth. 

     You utterly adored this story and the way it humanized Spencer in a way that other people did not consider often enough. Yes, he was the genius in incredibly advanced classes for his age, but he was also a little kid who behaved as all little kids did. He also experienced struggle and had to cope with it just like everyone else. He was not, as some chose to believe, a complete anomaly beyond understanding. Those many misunderstood idiosyncrasies Spencer had started to feel grounded as you learned more about him and could appreciate how and why they came to be.  

     But the night was dwindling down and two of you had gone through many stories since the start of your day together. Hitting a caffeine crash, you found yourself unable to keep some rogue yawns at bay. It was only eight o’clock in the evening, not an unreasonable time for you to ask Spencer to drive you back home. The rain was letting up to a mellow drizzle. Spencer was running out of excuses to keep you here.

     But you thought about how still hadn’t heard about his first pet lizard, which he caught in his backyard, and you didn’t yet know what kind of music he listened to when he was fourteen. And you no longer thought you needed to make excuses to stay with him longer, so you told him honestly that all you really wanted was to stay the night with him and keep hearing his stories. So you asked him if he would set on a fresh pot of coffee, just so you both could sip at it, staying awake all night together.

     He happily did so, and while he set the large coffee pot on and took out two cups from his cabinet, he thought, this is the first of many wishes of yours that I’d like to make come true.

______

PART THREE

Tag list: @rexorangecounty @rachel-voychuk @snitchthewitch @spencer-blake-supremacy @happyreid187 @rainsong01 @librarymagic 

[dragon-kazansky]

Masquerade with Mads Mikkelsen

Gender neutral reader

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Word count: 2.1K

Notes: Nothing really to note other than Mads is a fool.

♡♡♡

Chapter Two - Welcome home dinner

The rest of the day had been spent up in your room reading and organizing your room a little. Since you were living here now, it was time to make this room your own. You had put the mask from the masquerade party on your bedside so you may admire it whenever you pleased. The mask was a reminder of a memorable night where Mads held you and danced with you, spending a few special moments with you.

You sigh as you sit on the edge of the bed and look at it. If you could trap any moment to play over again and again, it would be that dance. The way he looked at you. The way he smiled at you. The way he spoke to you. Closing your eyes, you wish you could feel that way again.

The knock on your door breaks your momentary daydream. You turn away from the mask and toward the door.

"Come in," you call.

The door opens wide and in steps Ben. You smile as he enters your room. He walks over to where you're sitting and settles beside you.

"Good day?" He asks.

You shrug lightly.

"Not the first day home as I expected, but I've made my room a little bit more of my own," you look around. Ben's gaze follows yours and he smiles. He likes the way you arranged the furniture and decorated the room with the few bits you have in your possession.

"You should take a trip into town and buy some stuff you like. You could really make this place home," Ben suggests.

"I'd love to. Would you take me?" You ask. Ben turns to you and smiles.

"I will if he won't."

"Did you to him?"

"I did."

"And?"

Ben sighs and places an around your shoulders. He pulls you into his side and you rest your head against his shoulder, settling like you did earlier that day.

"I didn't get much in the way of an answer. He was being very closed off with me. I tried to dig a bit, but he gave me a warning. He's a good man, but when he tells me no, I have to listen. He is my master, so to speak," Ben says, feeling bad he couldn't do better for you.

Mads wasn't Ben's master in the sense of turning him, as both of them a pure-blood vampires. Mads took Ben under his wing centuries ago. Ben became Mads right hand man, therefore he call Mads his master. He wouldn't want it any other way.

"I get it. Thank you for trying."

"Anytime," Ben gives you a bit of a squeeze. "Now, are you hungry?"

"Yeah," you nod.

"Come on, dinner will be ready soon. The others will join us. You'll have a great first dinner as a proper resident here," Ben tells you, smiling sweetly at you.

You take Ben's hand and you both get up, leaving your room.

"Will Mads be there?"

Ben falls silent for a moment and glances your way. You can already tell what the answer is.

"I invited him, but we'll see. I'm not sure he's in the mood for fun. I don't know what his deal is, but he's being a fool for being the way he is at the moment."

You nod, dropping your gaze to the floor.

The doors to the dining room are open as you approach. You smile as you get nearer and see some other familiar faces already sitting. As you enter the room, they all look up and smile at you.

"So you're sticking around then?" Oscar asks.

"I am. Sorry, but you're just going to have to deal with it," you grin.

"However will I cope?" He laughs.

Ben guides you over to the seat opposite his. You sit down and watch him take his seat. He winks at you from across the table. You pretend the empty chair at the head of the table, between you both, isn't bothering you.

He isn't here. Though you suppose there is still time.

"Am I not good enough to sit next to now?" Anson asks, laughing.

"Sorry, I've been promoted. I sit higher up the table now," you chuckle.

"Uh oh, the power has gone to their head," Jodie teases.

"What can I say? Making this my home as made me see things in a new light."

They all laugh.

"See, you fit right in," Ben says, smiling at you. You return his smile.

"Yeah. Thank you for making this feel like home to me," you say.

"I shouldn't be the one you thank, but since he's not here, I'll take it. No matter what goes on with him, I promise I have your back from now on," Ben says.

"I really do appreciate it."

The food is brought out and served. Conversation is nice as you all tuck in. Ben keeps you smiling and laughing. Anson shares his ideas for the garden, having basically been given a new slate to work with. Oscar discusses some techniques with you, offering to still be your teacher now that you're staying here. You accept his offer and look forward to more classes with him. Jodie teases those at the table, making you laugh.

This feels like a family dinner.

Dinner is over. Plates empty and removed from the table. No one yet moves. You're all still laughing and chatting. No one at the dining tables realises how much time has passed. You're all enjoying each others company.

Standing on the staircase is Mads. He leans against his cane as he listens from just outside. The doors remain open, so your laughter is clear. He intentionally did not show up. He tells himself because he has a lot of work to do, but really, it's to keep his distance from you. Yet, the pain that shoots through his heart when he hears you laughing with the others is far worse than anything he has ever felt.

He is telling himself he cannot fall in love with you, but the reality is, he already has.

It's far too late now.

Yet, he must not act upon his feelings. You can do far better than him. Mads turns his head away from the direction of the door and makes his way down the rest of the stairs. When he reaches the bottom, his cane taps against the floor. For a moment, the laughter in the dining room stops.

They heard him.

Ignoring the open doors, he walks on, aware that he can be seen as he goes past.

You turn in your chair and peer over your shoulder. Ben looks up, as do the others. All eyes on the door. Mads can be seen walking past. He does not look inside.

It hurts that he won't even spare you a glance.

Once he's out of sight, you sigh and sit back in your chair. Ben turns his eyes to you and reaches for your hand across the table. You look at him.

"What did I do?" You ask him.

"Nothing. You did nothing. I'll figure out what's up with him. I'll demand answers if I have to. Please don't take this out on yourself."

You don't say anything else.

Ben rises from his chair and comes around your side. He kisses your forehead and leaves the room. You try not to look at the others, who must be looking your way. You quietly excuse yourself and leave the room, returning to your room for night.

Oscar, Anson, and Jodie all watch you go. None of them have any idea what's wrong with their master. He has never been this way before.

Ben, with far more determination than last time, trails after Mads. The sound of his cane hitting the floor is a good indication of where he is going. Ben catches him halfway to the drawing room, which Ben finds strange as Mads doesn't often spend time in there. Not since his mother died.

"Will you just talk to me?" Ben demands, raising his voice.

"I told you-"

"No! Don't. They really think they upset you and it's making them sad. Just talk to them, please?" Ben stares at him with sharp eyes.

"I'm trying to keep my distance. You are not helping," Mads glares at him.

"Why did you change all of a sudden? Tell me that."

"It has nothing to do with you."

"I'm making it so. Tell me. Where is the Mads that let them into his home? That brought them here to fight a war they had no idea was going on? That danced with them at the party and looked at them as if they were the only person in the room?" He grins. "Oh. I see it now. Is it so bad to be in love with someone?"

"It is when it's me," Mads warns.

"Are you worried they don't feel the same? I can assure you they do. I see the way they look at you. The way they smile at you. The way they speak to you... when you let them."

"That is exactly what I'm trying to avoid."

Ben furrows his brow. "You're trying to avoid that? I don't understand..."

"I don't want them to fall for someone who will only make the unhappy. My life is miserable, you know that, you live here too."

"You're lonely, I know that. Even with us here, you're lonely. Did you one day hope to have what your parents did? I know I did. I remember your parents. I don't think any two people loved each other more than they did. I used to look up to them for that," Ben smiles.

Mads says nothing.

He remembers vividly. Everywhere he looks in this old place, he sees them. Dancing in the ballroom. His father in his study. His parents walking through the garden. Sitting together at the dining table. Playing with him when he was a boy.

They were happy.

When they were taken from him, his happiness diminished.

"Leave me be," he says, walking away.

Ben lets him go.

Now he knows. He realises what's wrong, but he won't let Mads torture himself this way. Once Mads was out of sight, Ben turned on his heel and went in search for Caine. He needed to have a word with the butler.

You were sitting up in your bed when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," you call.

The door opens and Ben pokes his head in. You smile and wave him inside. Ben closes the door behind him and stands at the end of your bed.

"Turns out Mads is planning to have his breakfast in his office tomorrow. May I recommend not joining us in the dining hall and taking yours with him?" Ben smiles at you.

"What did he say?"

"Mads believes he is underserving of your affections. Prove him wrong. Spend time with him. I won't say anything to him, so just show up and tell him you're eating with him. He won't kick you out. He might make an excuse to leave, but I'm pretty sure he'll sit there with you."

"He thinks himself unworthy of affection? But he had his house full of friends not that long ago."

"Yeah, he thinks himself unworthy of you, despite inviting you to live here," Ben says.

"He's confusing."

"I know," Ben chuckles. "Now you have a new mission. Win him over. Win his heart."

"I wouldn't go that far, Ben," you laugh.

"Why not? You're already falling for him, aren't you?"

You fall silent as you look at him. Are you? Your heart rate increasing would tell you yes. The fact that you decided to stay here for him would also tell you yes. You smile softly.

"See. Spend time with him."

"Alright. I'll have my breakfast with him in his office," you say.

Ben smiles sweetly at you, "I'll have Caine organise the rest then. Sleep well."

"And you."

Ben leaves your room, and leaves you with your thoughts. You sit there, eyes ahead, mind racing with thoughts. Yes, it was quite easy for you to say while alone that you probably were falling in love with him. It's so easy to.

But if he didn't share those feelings, you wouldn't push it. If Mads really felt this was wrong, you would think up another plan. Perhaps Michael or Lauren will let you move in with them. Both of them had a spare room going now.

Sleep did not come easy to you that night.

♡♡♡

@niceshadeofblue @meganlpie @janine-007 @multiple-fandoms-girl @mischief-siriusly-managed @moonchild-cupcake @thecursivej @bdffkierenwalker

[mrs-hyperfixed-writes]

Are You Single - 2

Tag List: @becomeunsolved @ambiguous-g @favorite-slytherin-weirdo @a-weirdperson @artist-bby

The reader makes their way through Castle Dimitrescu, encountering the Lady and her daughters. Heisenberg might just have to re-evaluate his opinion of you when you're the unexpected victor of the battles with them.

You had ran through the glorified saw trap, avoiding Lycans and giants alike as you listened to Heisenberg’s taunting. Evidently he was an asshole, but that didn’t seem to be stopping the butterflies in your stomach going mad at the way he spoke to you. Fear had briefly crawled up your spine when he had dropped the spinning log of spikes, blocking your exit and apparently sealing your fate. Thankfully there had been a crevice in the wall, big enough to drop your backpack down by your side and protect yourself. The only thing that took damage was the handcuffs. It had briefly occurred to you that it seemed a very convenient hiding space in an otherwise foolproof killing room.

You ended up back at the gate that you had been captured at, looking over your shoulder this time as you pulled the lever up. Not that you could do anything if Heisenberg or his overgrown sister decided to double check. It seemed unlikely that either of them would treat you to a meal, but you could hope. If you were being honest with yourself though, Heisenberg hardly screamed refined dining.

No, he seemed more like a man who would order a McDonalds or a Burgerking after he’d been working tirelessly all day on a machine in a tank top. All sweaty. . . you smacked yourself in the face, snapping yourself out of your fantasy. You needed to get a grip. Preferably around his throat or his-

You slapped yourself again.

You left through the gate, coming out to an unpleasant looking vineyard. Of course, Dimitrescu was far too high and mighty to get her hands dirty doing manual labour, and any staff that she may of had to maintain the vineyard were probably dead. You shuddered at the thought of so many deaths. You didn’t know any of those people, didn’t know anyone in this godforsaken village that had been put in the middle of nowhere except for the few that had just survived long enough to be brutally killed in front of you. No one would remember any of the dead. It was as if they never existed. And if you died here - which you likely would - you would likely not be remembered. Not with fondness anyway.

You were brought out of your dark thoughts by the sound of a man groaning and wood creaking. You looked up, and to your surprise found an old-fashioned wagon settled in front of the entrance to Castle Dimitrescu. The doors swung open, and someone all but rolled out. The man was massive, both in height and weight.

“I’ve been waiting for you, my friend,” he said with the attitude of someone who was excited to get down to business.

You stopped a couple of metres away, taking it all in. How was this man even alive? Then again, Dimitrescu was nine feet tall and she seemed like she was functioning better than most people. Especially given that the tallest man in history was nearly nine foot and died super young. You could come to terms with this mans existence in no time.

“Who are you? How do you know me?” You let the uncertainty show in your voice.

“Me? I am but a humble merchant,” he said as he rubbed his hands together. “And you’ve been the talk of the town recently! An unknown human outsider making their way through hordes of creatures with nothing but an axe and some second hand guns? Remarkable.”

You hated yourself for the light blush that crept up your neck at the compliment. You never blushed.

“What can I call you?”

“Ah, forgive my manners. You can call me the Duke. Your name please?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I already know it, but some people prefer to tell others their name rather than have the introduction stolen from them.”

You chuckled, deciding to bridge the few metres of distance. “(Y/n).”

“Pleasure. Now, would you like to purchase anything for the journey ahead? Medicine? Ammunition?”

“Can you tell me what’s happened here?”

“Ah, information. All I can tell you now is that Mother Miranda has seemingly abandoned the village she has spent a century ruling. Slaughtered the villagers.” He took a long drag of a cigar he had lit before releasing the smoke into the air. “It seems she’s done it for her daughter.”

“Her daughter? Dimitrescu? Or the woman in the veil?”

“Ah, Lady Donna. But no, neither of those are her real daughters. It’s doubtful she even considers them such. The same for her sons.”

Your thoughts drifted back to Heisenberg. Did he hate her for that? For not considering him her child? Questions for later.

“Then who?”

The Duke regarded you for a second. “Sell me those crystal skulls you’ve collected, make a purchase and find me in the castle, and perhaps I’ll know more.”

You blinked in surprise, briefly wondering how he knew that you had been collecting the crystallised remains of those Lycans. Truthfully you just thought they were pretty.

After selling the remains and buying yourself some extra ammo, as well as some of the strange medicine the Duke advertised that was supposed to encourage cell division, you nodded to him in thanks and turned to face the castle.

“Although I must say,” The Duke called out before you could make much progress, “why do you wish to go into that castle? You are a stranger. There is no stake in this for you.”

You took a deep breath. Why were you doing this? That beast under your skin wanted to answer. To find and tear them apart. For revenge for all the dead. To satisfy my own need for blood and pain.

Instead you said, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

You walked towards the doors.

***

The inside of the castle was. . . beautiful. Definitely a place a lady would live. Perhaps a place you would live in another life. It seemed as though everything was trimmed with gold, including the beautiful waist high vases decorated with beautiful women. The furniture was of the highest quality, the rugs and carpets plush enough to sleep comfortably on. They looked expensive enough to cost more money than you’d ever had in your entire life. You wiped your muddy boot on the rug you were standing on, leaving a dark smear.

The thing that drew your attention most of all was the portrait that dominated the opposite wall. Three women, admittedly indistinguishable from one another, sat in big dresses. The plaque identified them as the three daughters. Three daughters that loved entertaining foreigners.

A bad feeling overcame you, and you decided to tuck your handgun into your boot, regardless of the discomfort. You covered it with your jeans.

You pressed on until you came to a main chamber that had another set of double doors decorating the walls. A scream rang out, clear as day and stopping you in your tracks. The scream of a woman in terrible pain. Part of you thought that maybe you should try to find her, but something in you knew that it had been a death scream. The agonised scream of someone who wanted to live and was denied.

You swallowed, instead making your way to the double doors, wondering where they lead.

“Well, who’s this then?” an upbeat female voice asked.

You turned to look, and only found three swarms of flies buzzing closer. And right before your eyes, they materialised into three beautiful young women. The daughters. The first thought in your head was how the painting didn’t do any of them justice.

You didn’t even have time to take your gun out of your backpack before the woman on the left - a tall blonde with blood on her mouth - grabbed you by the throat and lifted you clean off the floor, slamming you against the door. She pressed her face closer to your shoulder and took a deep sniff. You shuddered against the feeling of her nose tickling your neck.

“Fresh blood,” she said, voice dripping with a desire that put you on edge.

“Mother says you have to share, sister,” said the redhead with a childish delight, the brunette nodding in agreement with a sadistic grin on her face.

That scream echoed through your head again. The blonde stared into your face, looking for the traces of fear that likely coated their usual victims. She was going to come up empty. You cleared your throat, looking down into beautiful but evil eyes that had probably been the last thing that so many had seen, and spit right in her face.

The grin on her face froze as the glob made contact with her cheek, and then dropped off altogether when her sisters roared in laughter, one of them doubling at the waist and clutching her stomach.

She threw you to the floor, tossing your backpack aside and growling at her sisters to silence them. You leaped towards it with the intention of pulling your shotgun out, deciding to keep the handgun a secret. But she grabbed a fistful of your hair, most of her materialising back into that swarm as she did so. She dragged you through the halls, her sisters flanking you. You clawed at her hand, but to no avail.

Another swarm got too close, a face materialising. The brunette. She ripped one of your arms off of where it was clawing at the hand that felt as if it was going to rip your scalp off. She held it up to her mouth and grinned. You didn’t even have the chance to scream as she sank her teeth into the side of your forearm, digging in deep. Then she pulled back, laughing. She hadn’t done it to feed, only to hurt you. The other sister came forward, her face materialising as well to lick up the blood that was leaking down your arm. She left little bites of her own up your arm. But these were more like love bites.

Suddenly they stopped, and the oldest released the grip on your hair, using her momentum to throw you into a wall.

“Mother,” she started, “I bring you fresh prey.”

Oh no.

You turned, out of breath from the hurt your body had suffered.

“You are so kind to me, daughters.” She took a deep drink of wine and rose from her chair. “Now, let's take a look at them.”

You didn’t get up from the floor, not having the energy or the stupidity to make a scene right now. Not as she fully turned and looked down at you.

“Well, well. A nobody with no name worth knowing or manners to speak of makes their way to my castle do they? Well, you escaped my little brother's idiot games did you? Let’s see how special you are.”

She beckoned to the blonde and the redhead. They each grabbed an arm, forcefully hoisting you to your feet. You squirmed a little, but their grip was like iron as they held up the arm with the bleeding bite mark. Lady Dimitrescu raised a brow and looked back at the remaining daughter.

“Cassandra? What did I say about waiting?”

Cassandra looked down at her feet, almost seeming to be ashamed. “Apologies Mother.”

Dimitrescu gripped you by the wrist and lifted you off the ground. You gritted your teeth. She closed her mouth over the wound and sucked. If you were being honest with yourself most of your blood at this point had either transferred to your face or. . .

It wasn’t important. But apparently you needed therapy.

She dropped you suddenly, and you couldn’t help the shout that escaped your lips when your knees made impact with the floor.

“Just as I thought, nothing special.”

“May we devour their flesh now Mother-”

“But I am the one who captured them-”

“Now, now girls. First I must inform Mother Miranda of Heisenberg’s failure. But soon there will be enough for everyone.” She turned to the blonde daughter. “Bela, take them to the dungeons and shove them in a cell.”

Bela grinned at you, seizing your hair again as she dragged you along, leaving the laughter of her mother and her sisters behind.

***

Heisenberg was fuming. Not that you had escaped his trap. To be perfectly honest there were several design flaws that he wasn’t going to admit to and he really couldn’t have cared less if you had exploited them to get away. If you were running through the village, then something was bound to get you eventually. That was what he had figured anyway.

No, Heisenberg was angry because that overgrown, egocentric, glorified vampire bitch had ratted him out to Mother Miranda. He could just imagine the smug way she had said it over the phone. That grin she would have. He wished he could have buried his hammer into her face.

Miranda had expressed her disappointment in him, not that he gave a shit. But it would likely mean that she would watch him for a while, at least while she had time to spare. Preparing that stupid ceremony would take her a few days at the very least. And in that time she could do anything.

He slammed his fist down on the table. With you in Castle Dimitrescu he couldn’t even entertain himself watching you scramble around the village. Couldn’t taunt you. And he didn’t want to risk working on his army, just on the off chance that Miranda caught wind.

He hadn’t even seen you before that confrontation in front of the castle gate, and he just assumed it was blind luck you’d made it that far.

He’d probably never know how you got on in the Castle, because there was no way you were leaving that place alive.

He looked at the yellow jar on his desk, tempted to just throw it and it’s contents into a pit of molten metal. It would be kinder to the kid than whatever Miranda had planned.

***

You had been shoved in the most stereotypical dungeon in the world. It was something straight out of some Frankenstein-ish novel. Bela had left, promising that she would come back soon to retrieve you for dinner. You had given her your most hate filled look, your eyes promising nothing but violence.

That must have been ten minutes ago, and you were furiously searching the cell. You had found a gap in the wall, and in it a crumpled sheet of paper. You straightened it out, beginning to read.

To whomever is trying to escape this place,

I hope this note will be of some assistance. You don’t know me but you will have to trust me if you want to survive.

First, you need to get out of this cell. Look around for the way, get on your hands and knees if you must.

Then, search for the thing you’ll need to

escape. It will be hidden where they’ll

least suspect, soaked in blood.

The rest of the note was illegible, at some point being soaked with dry blood. You hoped that whoever had written it had gotten out.

You took the notes' advice, getting on your hands and knees. There! Under the wooden board attached to the wall there was a hole that you could crawl through. You got on your belly and went through, ending up in the next cell. You tried the door, and to your relief it opened.

You took your gun out of your boot, preparing to go into the dungeon deeper for your way out.

***

Monsters had patrolled the dungeon. Horrible emaciated monsters that held swords. The first one you had encountered held a sword, and you shot it with glee, picking the sword up. A perfect chance to conserve ammo. It was in good condition too. You sliced and hacked your way through, making it to the second part of the dungeon. You could see the stairwell at the end. Your heart soared. At least until you had to wave a fly out of your face.

“I can’t believe Cassandra caused all this mess.”

Bela. Part of you wanted to turn around and fight her, but you were sadistic not stupid. Bullets against a swarm would be pointless. Instead you ran for the stairs, shooting up them until you came to an entrance that was boarded up. Because of course it was. You attempted to hack at the boards with the sword, but it was already too late.

“Where are you going little one?”

“Oh for fucks-”

You turned to be confronted by Bela, her white teeth stark against the drying blood coating the lower half of her face. She picked you up by the neck again, throwing you through the wooden boards. You lost the sword to the far wall, instead bringing out your handgun as she mounted you, desperately trying to inflict some damage on her even when you knew the bullets would be useless. She just laughed at you.

“Bullets cannot harm-”

CRACK.

You both looked off to the side, just in time to see a window shatter and let in all the cold air. She jumped off and you skittered back, getting to your feet. She was. . . solidifying, only a few lone flies breaking away from her before the cold killed them.

And she was angry.

“You stupid-”

You shot her.

She reeled back in pain, screeching. You smiled, and shot her again.

She charged at you, raising her sickle over her head to slice at you. You ducked away from her and grabbed your sword, swinging it to block her next swing. You kicked her in the stomach, putting some distance between the two of you. Then you shot her again. And again. You could tell that she was almost done. One more bullet or swing of the sword and she’d probably shatter.

You put your gun down on a table, the sword following it.

She was doubled over in agony for the moment, but she still managed to look at you with eyes filled with hatred. The perfect mirror of the look you had given her when she had tossed you in a cell. You laughed at her again, the sound ringing right through the room. You didn’t care if it could even be heard throughout the castle. The daughters had a weakness, and if they wanted to fuck around and find out how you could exploit it then that was their problem.

“It’s funny how things just switch around isn’t it?” You asked her between manic bursts of laughter.

You charged at her suddenly, tackling her to the ground. She wasn’t nearly as strong as she had been. She clawed desperately at your thighs, screaming again as the force she was using caused them to begin to crumble. It was childish, but you got a grip on her hair and pulled as hard as you could, laughing at the screams she made as cracks spiderwebbed down from her hairline down to her eyes. Then you reeled your fist back, gave her one final smirk, and punched her in the face. Her head practically exploded into pieces. You felt yourself drop to the floor as most of her crumbled. Except for one thing. The upper half of her torso had crystallized into something beautiful. You picked it up, wondering if the Duke would buy it.

***

As it turned out, the Duke had his own special room in the castle, and he did buy the torso and the sword. You also managed to retrieve your backpack. It turned out that that medicine was bordering on magical, as the only thing left of the horrible bite Cassandra had left was a scar. Even Daniela’s hickeys were gone.

To your chagrin, if you wanted to open those double doors in the hall you were going to need four masks. The Duke provided the first one, The Mask of Sorrow. He had winked at you, telling you that this would avoid another encounter with the Lady. But when you had asked for his explanation about the events in the village, he simply told you he didn’t have it all yet, but he would at your next encounter. You thought that was bullshit. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

And now here you were, reaching for the animal's skull off the wall, hoping that maybe it would have the solution to opening that grate without having to replace the mask.

“I was worried my sisters had gotten to you first.”

Fuck. You froze. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She was by the door. You looked around the room, desperate to find a solution. You had only narrowly escaped her getting into the room. Trying to get past her while stuck in here would be impossible. Then you felt it. A draft. There was a gap in the wall being concealed by a bookshelf. You moved it, looking around for Cassandra. She was still by the door, taking her sweet time getting to you. You examined the gap. There was no way this was going to be enough to petrify Cassandra. Then you remembered the weight in your pocket. You had picked it up in the dungeon. A pipe bomb.

You felt the air shift, and had just enough time to duck as Cassandra swung at you. Taking cover on the other side of the room, you threw the bomb and covered your ears. Cassandra screamed at the bite of the cold air, somehow being louder than the initial boom the bomb had made.

“You’ve ruined the hunt!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said happily. “I’m having tons of fun.”

You pointed the shotgun at her as she charged, unloading it into her face. She stumbled back. And you did it again, not giving her time to recover. The shotgun was much more powerful than the pistol had been taking care of Bela, so it wasn’t long before Cassandra was at the same stage Bela had been before you had killed her.

“I take it back. That was kind of disappointing. I thought you’d have more in ya.”

And you don’t know if she just realised she was dying, or if she just wanted to kill you so bad that she threw common sense out of the window, but she charged at you with her weapon raised. You didn’t even move out of the way, just caught he raised wrist and squeezed. It crumbled beneath your hands. She tried to hit you with her other wrist only for you to do the same thing.

“Mother!” She cried out with all the emotion of a scared little girl. “Mother!”

You grabbed her by the front of her dress, letting her see into your eyes. Letting her see the toothy grin you were giving her that was more like a snarl. The irony of the situation struck you. Whereas it would have been her eyes brimming with cruelty and madness before, now it was yours. But you had never been afraid. Not for one second. But she was. And it made you grin even wider.

She called out for her mother again as you dragged her to the wall. You kissed her on the nose, giving her a smile that someone might give a lover, and used all your innate anger and cruelty to shove the bitch against the wall.

She shattered, leaving behind only that crystallised torso.

***

His sister had said she would call Miranda when the outsider had been killed. Well, her words were dealt with properly. Emphasis on the properly apparently. Miranda was supposed to let the rest of them know when the outsider had decided to stop being a nuisance and finally bit the dust.

But no call came. From either of them. Hell, Heisenberg hadn’t heard a goddamn thing from anyone. So. . . was the outsider still alive?

He had to admit, he didn’t expect that.

Maybe he needed to change up his expectations.

***

“So you finally came to see me?”

The final daughter. Daniela. You would have preferred not to deal with her right now, given that her mother had just surprised you and evading her through her music hall had been no small task. She had been angry and seething with bloodlust. You supposed she had learned about the deaths of her older daughters. The fact that she had sent Daniela up against you after you had proved that they were practically useless against you wasn’t scoring Dimitrescu any good mother points.

You shot at the window above. But it refused to break, and the swarms had blocked the doors. You looked around, noting that on the other side, on one of the pillars was a handle.

“Everyone always falls for me.”

You ran around her, gripping the handle and swinging it down with all your might. She screamed in agony, running to get out of the direct frozen wind. To your dismay the handle slowly turned up. Who designed this?

She was running through the bookshelves, trying to hide from you. So deranged, but slightly smarter than her sisters it seemed.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I- Why are you doing this?!” you retorted.

You pumped the handle down again before chasing her, shooting her in the back. She darted around a bookcase, circling around you and trying to get the jump on you. But you were ready, giving her another one. You were beginning to get bored of these sisters.

“You three don’t really put up much of a fight do you?”

“I thought you loved me,” she snarled.

“What the fuck has that got to do with anything I just said?”

You shot her again. Then once more for good measure. You got up close and used the butt of your shotgun wo hit her in the stomach, forcing her back.

“I don’t wanna die,” she cried out, almost begging you not to go any further with the tone she was using.

“Well you know, neither did anyone in this village or this castle but shit happens I guess.”

You threw the gun down and got a grip on her throat, dragging her to the handle where you pumped it down again. Her attempts to get away from you and out of the cold were desperate, but you maintained that grip on her neck. Slowly, your grip tightened, and you thought you could see the beginning of tears in her eyes as cracks started to multiply on her throat. You did it slowly, savouring the way her throat gave under your hand. The window was nearly shut now. You blew her a kiss, then you balled your fist, crushing her throat completely.

The window shut.

***

“The entire bloodline of House Dimitrescu is done in by the likes of you?”

You smiled at her, even as she stalked you with her claws out. She had caught you while you were figuring out which mask went where. Luckily, being so big meant she was slow.

“Damn right it is.”

“Have much blood and sweat do you think it took to raise those daughter?” She swiped. “You have incurred an impossible debt!”

The genuine sadness and pain in her voice was something that might have swayed someone else, but not you. Not after the Duke had explained what those monsters in the dungeon had really been. Not when you knew the secret ingredient of that wine. Not when that scream rattled around inside your skull.

“What? You want me to feel sorry for you? Want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness while you slice me apart? How many daughters have you murdered and turned to slaves?” You slotted the third mask in before darting just out of her reach. “You didn’t consider how many fathers and husbands you bled dry in your dungeons. Your daughters deserved to die! You deserve to die! None of you get a free pass just because I’d have sex with you!”

She made a noise of disgust and sliced downwards, narrowly missing you. You darted to the last statue, putting the mask in. The door opened and you bolted.

***

You pushed open the coffin, finding an old corpse clutching a beautiful knife. You picked it up, testing the weight. That is, before you were spun around and lifted by the neck again. Evidently this family had a choking kink.

“You ruined everything!” She screamed.

She got ready to plunge her claws deep into your stomach, but you were faster, instead driving the knife into her chest. She screamed, throwing you through the window behind you. You accidentally let go of the knife, and it tumbled off the side of the building.

You looked back at Dimitrescu. She was in pain, and obviously weakening. But large, fleshy wings sprouted out from her back, a tail soon following.

And then she was crashing through the wall, nothing but a female torso and head on the back of what looked like a dragon straight out of one of your nightmares.

“Flesh! Bones! I will devour all of you!”

“Bring it on, bitch!”

***

“Curse you.”

And those were her last words. It hadn’t been easy, but you had done it. And you smiled at her as you did so. Given that same demented smile you’d given her daughters. You still wore it.

You looked around, still half mad from the bloodlust. The only thing of note was a yellow flask, so you snatched it up, grinning even wider as the wall opened into the outside.

***

Dimitrescu was dead. Heisenberg grinned. Well, he certainly didn’t expect to watch you walk out of the castle through the camera he’d placed in the area. He hadn’t even expected you to have lasted five minutes, but evidently you were made of sterner stuff. He was impressed.

You were covered in the dust of her dead daughters, as well as Dimitrescu's own blood. It made your damaged clothes cling to your form, and as you got closer he could see the grin you were wearing, could see that deranged look in your eye. And then you looked up at him. Not just at his camera, but at him. As if you knew he was watching. Your grin turned into something else, and you brought your palm to your mouth, kissed it, and then blew the kiss at him.

He didn’t expect that to get his blood pumping. Didn’t expect watching you walk away coated in blood get it pumping even harder. What was this feeling? It wasn’t fear. It was almost like adrenaline. Almost like-

He looked down at his lap. “Fuck.”

He needed to talk to you. He would talk to you.

Hopefully he could lick the blood off of you after.